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#any and all feedback would be so so appreciated! much love <3
crosshairlovebot · 20 hours
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falling for mr. batchbury (part two) / hunter x f!reader
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pairing: hunter x f!reader
description: your long-awaited reunion with mr. batchbury has finally come, and so do you.
REGENCY AU
word count: 8,107
warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. loss of vriginity (f). p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). lots of kissing. handj*bs. biting. unprotected s*x. cr*ampie. outdoor s*x. partly clothed s*x. religious comparions.
thank you so much for your support on part one.!! the regency hunter/bad batch art that has come from this has been amazing to see i love it so much!! i got v carried away but i enjoyed writing this sm, so i hope you enjoy reading it <3
also posted on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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PART TWO
According to his letters, Mr. Hugo Batchbury earned the nickname “Hunter” due to his uncanny ability to seek out enemy ships and find hidden encampments during the war. You had always known his senses to be more attuned than a normal person, so it seemed fitting for him. And it was why you ventured into your estate’s gardens, knowing he’d be able to find you with ease.
You hurried down the stone steps, lifting the skirt of your gown so you wouldn’t trip as you left the din of the ball behind you. 
The ball had been to celebrate your father’s return from war. Of course, that meant the Batchbury Brothers had also returned, each with a nickname of their own. William had come to be known as ‘Wrecker’ due to his enthusiasm with the ship's cannons. Thomas became ‘Tech’ as his knowledge of engineering and other contraptions was second to none. Carlisle’s superior aim with a pistol had bestowed him with the name ‘Crosshair’. You had read it all in Mr. Batchbury’s letters, which were frequent enough that missing him was only agonising, not excruciating. 
In the years that passed while they were at sea, writing was the only comfort you had – and knowing they served under your father who was a master at his profession. Your heart raced when the footman brought in the post and there was a letter from Mr. Batchbury. Usually, he would write two – one for you and one for Meg. 
His letters to you varied, sometimes they told you of what he’d been doing, sometimes they held a tale from the decks of the ship, some mischief played as they rode the waves. But each contained his voice through written script, the words of the sentences so familiar you could hear them in his voice as you read. 
You fell more in love with him through his letters, and he with you. Each one he sent would always detail his love for you, his eagerness to come home and love you at a nearer distance, his wish to marry you when he returned. It all sent thrills and pangs through you.
My thoughts of you only seem to increase the longer we are apart, he’d once written. My sketchbook has run out of pages, and until I can find a new one to fill, I draw your face in my dreams.
Your entire being longed to be with him.
You would write to him too, but the time between letters being sent and arriving for both of you seemed to grow more extensive as the months and years went on. 
What was it they said, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well, your heart's fondness for Mr. Batchbury was so strong it ached. You even requested he send you a self-portrait, just so you could see him face. He’d given it in his next letter – his face so beautifully etched in charcoal, his brow strong over intense black circles of eyes, the curve of his jaw shaded with his birthmark. You had to be careful you didn’t drop tears on it when you gazed upon it.
Meg missed him too – she missed all her brothers dearly, and she followed the papers diligently for news, thrumming with excitement when she received a letter from any of them. She had grown so much in the years that had past. Now eighteen, she had matured into a young lady; she was kind, compassionate and amiable. She was as tall as her brothers and seemed to have absorbed all their best traits too, even if they were far away. 
You had been with her as she watched from the window, waiting for their carriage to arrive the afternoon just gone. She bounced on her toes in excitement while you sat on the lounge nearby, just as excited but simultaneously so anxious to see Mr. Batchbury you felt like you might be ill.
What if he saw you and you were not as he remembered? Or what if he saw you and his feelings for you were merely spurred by distance, and now were non-existent? You knew his heart to be mountainous, but mountains did fall victim to erosion when weathered by strong winds.
When you heard Meg squeal, you had jumped from your thoughts. “They’re here! They’re back! They’re here!”
She raced from the room, and you gaped for a moment before following her, your footsteps just as quick. Despite your anxieties, you were still desperate to see him.
And you father, too. You couldn’t forget about him.
You followed her outside and watched as Meg skidded to a stop as the carriage slowed and the horses stilled. The carriage door was thrown open as William– Wrecker emerged. You knew it was him from his build. He guffawed as he wrapped his arms around Meg, lifting her up and spinning her. You heard Meg laugh as you approached. 
You realised Wrecker now sported an impressive scar from his ear and across one side of his face, an eye patch covering one eye, his head completely shaved. The other brothers filed out of the carriage, Thomas– Tech had a limp and now held a cane on his left side, Carlisle– Crosshair had a burn scar on one side of his head, the same side as the smattering of port wine that splashed over his right eye. He also had a wooden attachment on one hand to replace one he had evidently lost. 
They each had been changed by their time at war, but they still gathered Meg into their arms, their love for their sister eternal.
Your breath hitched when you saw Mr. Batchbury– Hunter move down the carriage steps, his boots crunching on the gravel. 
His hair was longer, and the bandana had changed from bright red to a rich colour that matched his port wine birthmark, but apart from that it was as if no time had passed. How was it possible he looked exactly the same? In fact, he looked even more handsome, as if the time spent in the sea air had not weathered him, but ripened his beauty.
You watched as he held his arms out for Meg, who jumped into them. He smiled into her neck, arms wrapping around her tightly, squeezing. You heard Meg begin to cry into her older brother’s shoulders, her own shaking. Your heart squeezed for her. 
Though her brothers were everything to her, there was something different about her bond with Hunter. He was more than her brother, he was her guardian too, the one she always turned to, the one who had taken her in and cared for her no questions asked. Hunter was Meg’s mountain, and being without him had been harder on her than she liked to admit. Hunter soothed her with gentle shushes, one of his hands running up and down her back. 
“It’s alright, Meg. I’m here now,” you heard him console her gently. “I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 
You felt your eyes sting with tears at the heartfelt reunion. They pulled away, and you watched Hunter wipe away his sister’s tears with the pad of his thumb, a smile matching his misty eyes. You watched his hands grab hers as he took a step back, seeing her stand at his height.
“You’re so big now,” his voice cracked.
Meg laughed lightly, wiping her eyes. “You missed a lot.”
“Too much.” Hunter shook his head. “Never again.”
“Never,” Meg agreed.
“Hey!” Wrecker’s loud voice boomed when he spotted you. “Look who it is!”
You held your breath as Hunter’s eyes landed on yours. You watched the way his eyes and shoulders softened, his mouth parted. You watched his mouth turn up at the side, and the stain on his cheek darken at the sight of you. It appeared his penchant to flush at the sight of you had not changed either.
You flushed. Why had you even been worried again?
You cleared you throat and took a step forward. “The Batchbury Brothers have returned.”
“You bet!” Wrecker cheered. “And in one piece!”
“Speak for yourself,” Crosshair sneered, his remaining hand gripping the wrist of his prosthetic.
“We are, mostly, unharmed,” Tech adjusted his glasses with his free hand. “Hunter is the only one of us to remain unscathed.”
Hunter sighed and shook his head. “We all survived. That’s what matters.”
“And we’re rich!” Wrecker laughed proudly.
“I heard about your acquisition of prizemoney,” you said. “Congratulations. It is a great accomplishment for you all.”
“It gives us many opportunities now,” Hunter said carefully, meeting your eyes knowingly. You felt your heartbeat pick up.
Did he…mean…?
You felt your expression lift as you gazed at him hopefully, and you watched his birthmark darken again as he smiled softly at you. The smile conveyed all the love he held for you, steadfast and immovable even after five years, even through a war. Your heart squeezed and you felt as though you might faint.
He did mean that.
“Is my father on his way?” you inquired, slightly breathless as his words danced around your head, the realisation so fanciful it hardly seemed real.
Hunter nodded. “He said he had some paperwork to drop off in London, but he should arrive by this evening.”
“Wonderful,” you breathed, smiling at him with what you hoped conveyed the same amount of love, if not more. 
Now, under the cover of the moon and the ball long behind you, you raced through the maze to the centre of it; the very maze where your love for each other had blossomed. You were breathless, and you could feel the bones of your tight corset cutting into your ribs, but you didn’t care. 
He would be here soon.
“Hey,” you heard his smoky tenor from behind you. You whirled around to see him standing there, holding a lantern he had taken from the courtyard adjacent to the ballroom. Along with a grey waistcoat, he wore his newly tailored dresscoat, black with some red embroidery stitched into the cuffs and collar. His black boots glistened in the light of the moon, and in lieu of his bandana, he wore a red cravat instead.
He looked dashing.
“Mr. Batchbury,” you breathed as you took in the sight fo him.
How was it fair that he looked beautiful in all lights?
He chuckled. “Are we still using such formalities?”
You were unable to hide your smile. “What shall I call you then? ‘Hunter’?” you teased lightly.
You watched as he inhaled sharply, hands that were once relaxed now clenched. “Yes,” he rasped, his eyes never strayed from you. “Hunter is perfect.”
“Very well…Hunter,” you smiled. You liked the way it sounded on your tongue, and Hunter seemed to as well, returning a closed-mouth smile at you as he continued to gaze longingly at you. Your face felt hot as you fiddled with your fingers awkwardly. The moment of silence passed through you both. You looked at him before tittering nervously. Hunter cocked his head. 
“What is it?”
“All these years, I thought I would be gushing with things to say, but words have seemed to escape me,” you joked.
Hunter chuckled, a hearty sound, and walked towards you slowly with the lantern before setting it down on the stone bench beside you both. Now, in the dim orange glow, you were close enough to see those familiar brown-grey eyes, unchanged despite the time that passed. 
“It’s been a long time. Far too long,” he murmured, eyes travelling across your face like a caress. You swallowed, flustered by his attentions. 
You wished you were more articulate, but you had missed him so much, it was taking everything in you not to just kiss him, to instead prelude such a thing with pleasantries so it would not be so forward. It had been a long time, and you had only a few hours together where you knew of each others feelings before he left. This whole thing was unfamiliar territory for you. You knew how to be in love with him from afar, from across an ocean, but had no idea how to do it in such close proximity.
“You look well,” you said. It was a severe understatement.
“You look beautiful,” Hunter told you earnestly, his fingertips gently nudged your hands and you let them latch around yours. Your breath hitched as you felt his warm touch against your hands as he held them assuredly, his thumb drawing circles over the back of your hand. “My sketches and my memory did not do you justice.”
You felt butterflies take flight inside you. “I was worried about this part,” you breathed, too overwhelmed to think about the words that now seemed to fly out of you with no hesitation.
Hunter looked genuinely confused. “Why?”
You swallowed again and averted your eyes, focusing on the concrete next to you. “Because I hoped I would still be what you desired, after half a decade.”
Hunter tilted his head as he moved into your eyeline, forcing you to meet his eye as you both lifted your heads again. His brow was furrowed as he tried to understand. “How could you think I would no longer desire you? Did you not read my letters?”
“I did but…things can change,” you told him quietly.
Hunter’s frown deepened and he searched your face before he shook his head. He let go of one of your hands so he could cup the hinge of your jaw, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheekbone, his words quiet but sure. 
“Not this,” he told you. “Never this.”
Your heart squeezed. He was not real. He could not be. You loved him so much you thought you might collapse, knees buckling because of how much it consumed you. You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes, breathing in deeply at how nice it was to hear such a thing. To know his heart remained as mountainous as it was when he left. When you opened your eyes again, you saw his brow was drawn together, his lips pressed together. You needed them on yours desperately.
“No,” you agreed, breathless.
You tilted your chin up a little, gaze falling to his lips, a silent begging for him to kiss you. You watched his eyes move to your lips and his words came out as he stared at them.
“I have something…I need to ask you,” he said slowly, like he was nervous, like he was reciting words he had practised. You felt your whole body ignite. He met your eyes once again. “I suspect you know what it is?”
“Yes,” you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper in disbelief. You knew what he was going to ask, and yet you felt yourself thrum with anticipation for hearing the words out loud. “I waited,” you told him.
Hunter nodded, a mirthful smile on his face, like he could hardly believe it either. “You waited.”
You smiled and you both gazed at each other. The warm glow of the lamp lit the side of his face untouched by his birthmark, and the ballroom felt like it was on a different planet, it was so far away. Only the stars were your witnesses above you, glowing dots painting the sky. His hands were warm on you, tethering you to him. It was just the two of you, in the maze – where you both began, and evidently, would be where you continued to be together.
“Marry me.” His husky voice spoke in the space between you, and those two little words made your heartbeat race and your stomach flip over. “Please. I…adore you. It would be my greatest honour to be wed to you.”
Tears of joy stung your eyes, and you unleashed an unbridled smile that you did not dare hold back. You nodded your head quickly, eager to tell him your answer, which you need not take time to consider, you’d had five years after all.
“Yes,” you laughed. “Yes, I will marry you.”
You watched Hunter’s face light up, joy stretching his mouth wide and squishing part of his port wine stain into a triangle on his cheek. He laughed happily as he brought his other hand to your face and pulled you in for your first kiss in five years.
Your hands moved to clutch his lapels as you kissed him back. You had dreamed of kissing him again, and it felt surreal to finally be doing it. His mouth was still as hot, gentle and coaxing as you remember, and you felt yourself pressing into him as he slanted his mouth over yours. You couldn’t stop smiling though, your mouth tipping up involuntarily with your immeasurable happiness as you kissed him. In response, Hunter’s mouth did the same, chuckling before he pulled back. He shook his head and kissed you chastely before he spoke again.
“In the morning, we’ll find the vicar. I don’t want to wait,” he said, his voice hoarse but full of conviction. 
“Neither do I,” you agreed, watching the way the moon illuminated his curls.
“It’s been long enough. To be apart from you for any longer,” he pressed his forehead into yours. “It would be agony.”
“I cannot be without you another moment,” you told him before bringing his lips down to yours again. Hunter groaned as he kissed you, his hands travelling down towards your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You moved your hands to the nape of his neck, fisting the hair there. Hunter groaned again before he wrenched himself back, breathless. Apparently, he still had things to say. Could they not wait? You had struggled with words before, why did he want to say them now when there was kissing to do?
“Your father cannot disapprove of me.” he rushed out, like he was telling himself, reassuring himself. “I am no longer poor. He will let us marry.”
You smiled softly at him. All this doubt he had held, all these thoughts and apprehensions that had held him back before, they no longer existed. There was no war to fight, he was no longer destitute, Meg was well and he’d already set up a trust for her. His brothers were safe. And so was he. Everything had been taken care of. Hunter could finally allow himself to have something that he wanted. Something completely his own that did not require anyone’s opinion or approval. He had been a mountain for everyone, and now the storm had passed, the sun shone on his heart and there was no need to be worried about his family.
Though none of it had been a burden to him, Hunter could finally breathe, and he wanted to fill his lungs with you.
You brushed some hair off his forehead. “Even if he did disapprove, I would marry you anyway. I am yours, in whatever circumstance. I always have been.”
Hunter smiled, his expression soft and full of adoration. “I love you.”
“I love you,” you told him moments before Hunter brought his lips back to yours. 
Hunter wrapped his arms around you and made a soft sound as you pressed into him. You felt his mouth guide yours open, and you let him, trusting him implicitly as he gently moved his tongue against yours. 
You hadn’t kissed him like this before, but the hot wet of his mouth was obscenely wonderful and you were quickly obsessed with how it felt. You tried to stroke your tongue against his in the same motions and felt him moan into your mouth.
“Heavens above,” you felt him mumble as he dragged his mouth away from yours, moving it down your neck as he left open-mouthed kisses across your skin. You tilted your head back, mouth open as you caught your breath, overcome with the feel of his mouth on places you had only read about. You felt between your legs begin to get hot as you cradled his head to your neck, and when you felt him nip at your collarbone, you to let out a high-pitched cry. You were sure you were going to collapse any second. 
“Hunter…” you panted. 
Hunter moved across your collarbone, kissing the swallow of your neck as he did. His hands moved from your waist to hold your ass, his palms squeezing there. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you watched him move down towards the swell of your breast which spilled up the neckline of your gown, pressed by your corset. 
He kissed the crease between them. “My love, if you will permit me.”
“Do whatever you wish with me,” you hastened to say, desperate for him not to stop.
Hunter did not need to be told twice before he kissed along the neckline, the soft flesh of your breasts meeting his lips. You mewled as his tongue lulled out and licked, before his teeth sunk into them.
“Hunter!” you moaned, head falling back.
You felt his hot breath on your now wet skin. He pulled away with a groan. 
“My love, can I…can I please?” Hunter looked at you.
You blinked, trying to remember how to speak. “Can you what?”
“Can I feel you there? I fear I will perish if I do not,” he begged, eyes pleading like if you refused him, he might actually fall apart.
“I told you, do whatever you wish with me.”
A low sound came from the back of Hunter’s throat as he lowered to his knees in front of you. “Sit down on the bench.”
You followed his instruction and then he bunched up your gown before placing a hand between your legs. When you felt his fingers brush against your extremely wet folds, you whimpered and he groaned, a guttural sound that travelled right to your centre.
“Oh, Christ, you’re fucking drenched,” he rasped, moving his fingers against your seam. You panted, clutching his shoulder as pleasure travelled like lightning through your entire body. “And this is all for me.”
“All yours,” you whispered.
Hunter groaned again and pulled his fingers away. You whined at the loss of touch and then watched as he placed his fingers, wet with your slick, into his mouth. You whimpered as he moaned, his eyes closing as he tasted you.
“God, you’re heavenly.”
“Hunter,” you said breathlessly.
He wet his lips. “Can I taste more?”
“Stop asking and just do it,” you said quickly.
Hunter moved under your gown and you slid towards the edge of the bench a little more, hands gripping the stone as you felt his breath on your pussy. You cried out loudly when the flat of his tongue licked up your folds. The sensation was obscene and you felt like you were ascending when you felt his mouth move on you. You shuddered, indecent sounds coming from you as he licked and sucked, tongue moving across your most intimate part. You said his name like a chant as he moved his mouth and tongue expertly, his arms encircled your thighs, forefingers toying with the edge of your stocking, and you felt his moan vibrate against you. 
“Hunter,” you strangled out, the sensations moving through you taking away your ability to utter anything but his name.
He placed your knees over his shoulders and continued to move his mouth on you. Your grip on the stone bench tightened as you leaned back at a new angle, your nails digging into the grains of the rock as you panted, the pleasure blooming inside you so heavenly you could barely put words to it. 
Hunter’s tongue moved through your folds before he sucked on the small nub there. You jerked, yelping as he run his tongue over it, gently sucking as he continued to pull pleasure from you. You whined as he artfully moved his mouth over you. How was he so good at this? 
You had only read about such things in novels, the descriptions making you blush and tingle all at once as you imagined what it would be like to experience it. You had experimented on your own, of course, too curious to wait until Hunter had returned home to feel the pleasure the heroines felt in your novels. But nothing you did to yourself felt as good as this. 
You clenched your knees around his head and felt your body begin to shudder as the familiar coils of heat began to build in your stomach, but this time more intense than what you’d felt on your own. 
“Hunter,” you told him breathlessly, intending to say more but the words felt like they were floating in a mist above you, and every time you tried to grasp them, they alluded you. “I’m–”
You heard him groan under your skirts, voice muffled between your thighs and under the silks. “Let go.”
You felt his tongue flick that nub, his hands on your thighs tightening as he performed one last ministration that caused that pleasure to erupt from you. You cried out, hands clutching the bench so hard you thought there might be indents in the stone as you came apart on his tongue. Your legs shook and your chest heaved as you moaned and whined, head thrown back as Hunter’s tongue lapped at you. You weren’t sure if the stars above you were real, or ones he had made you see. 
As the pleasure waned and your body’s aftershocks slowed, you felt Hunter remove your legs from his shoulders and he fumbled with your skirts as he re-emerged. His curls were a mess, and the port wine stain on his cheek was flushed a deep purple from the heat of being under your skirts. He panted, his mouth glistening with your slick, but his eyes were bright, invigorated, like performing cunnilingus on you had energised him. He licked his lips and smiled lovingly at you.
“Amazing,” he told you, his tone awed. “Is that the first time you’ve come?”
You felt heat rise up your neck. “No.”
Hunter’s eyes widened in surprise. “No?”
“Well, I got very tired of waiting for you.” You shrugged innocently despite your face flaming. “I had to take matters into my own hands.”
“Christ,” he said, the words scratching out of his throat roughly. “Are you serious?”
You met his pleading eyes. “Yes.”
Hunter buried his head in your lap and groaned. “I can’t believe I had to stay away so long.”
“Never again.”
“Never again.” He leaned up and kissed you languidly, and you could taste yourself on his lips. 
He stayed kneeling on one knee between your legs, your skirts bunched up to your hips as he kissed you, his hands moving up your body back to your breasts. You gasped when his fingers curled around the neckline of your bodice, fingertips brushing the swell of your breast, skin burning. 
“Can I take this off?” He tugged on the edge of the neckline. “Please.”
“Yes. Yes, please,” you practically begged him. 
You felt his hands go to the ties at the back of your dress, and he deftly tugged them loose as he brought his mouth to yours again. You felt the fabric of your dress loosen before he retreated to pull the dress off from the front, moving it down your arms. You watched as Hunter rumpled the fabric and threw it to the side so it was out of the way. 
You were glad the night was warm, now that you were only in your corset over your chemise and stockings. You watched the garment fall to the ground as Hunter let out a growl of frustration.
“Why are there so many layers? I need more of your skin on my mouth,” he grumbled. You giggled as he started to unlace your corset.
“What is it they say? Patience is a virtue?”
“I’ve never been virtuous and I’m not about to start now,” Hunter rasped as he opened your corset, your breasts falling to their natural position under your chemise as they were no longer held up by your stays. You let out a breath of comfort. 
Hunter smiled ruefully. “Better? How tight did your maid tie you up?”
“Tighter than usual. I had someone to impress.”
Hunter grinned and kissed your breasts through the thin cotton, your nipples tightening and pointing through the fabric. “I’m always impressed by you.”
You smiled and kissed him once more before pulling away. “It hardly seems fair that I’m almost indecent while you’re basically fully dressed.
Hunter laughed heartily, a sound that made your chest squeeze. He kept smiling at you, still on one knee between your legs as he pulled off his coat, bunching it up and throwing it into a pile with your dress. He pulled off his cravat roughly and started to unbutton his waistcoat when your hands reached out to stop him.
“Let me,” you told him quietly and your fingers brushed his. You started undoing the buttons of his waistcoat, quiet between you. You felt his eyes on you as you unbuttoned and when you looked up to slide the garment off his shoulders, he was gazing at you with this look you couldn’t decipher. Perhaps it was adoration. 
You threw the waistcoat on the pile and Hunter was only left in his shirt, breeches and his boots. You smiled as you ran a hand slowly down the neckline of his shirt, your fingers touching his sternum and the nest of dark curly hair there. You remember watching him train in this years ago, and now here you were.
You met his eyes and watched his eyes smile at you, softening at the sides as he started to untuck his shirt and unbutton it, his eyes never leaving your face. 
You watched, mesmerised as Hunter shrugged the shirt off and revealed his bare chest. You took in a breath as you realised how muscular and broad he was. The tendons of his shoulders and collarbones were taut and strong, and his stomach flat except for the raised muscles in a six formation. His hair extended across the expanse of his chest and down into his breeches, but what surprised you the most was the port wine stain that appeared on his face also travelled down his torso, painting one side of his chest a beautiful burgundy across his brown skin. You traced your fingers across the outline and watched the way he shivered under your touch, goosebumps erupting across his skin. He was sculpted by the Gods; Michaelangelo had surely modelled the statue of David from him. 
“You’re beautiful,” you breathed, fingers trailing down his chest before you met his eyes, a small smile tugging the corners of your lips.
Hunter’s eyes widened for a moment at your declaration before his lips twitched, like they itched to smile. He placed his hands on the sides of your thighs, the thin cotton a poor barrier for the heat of his hands as he rubbed circles into your skin. 
“You think so?” he replied quietly, like he didn’t quite believe you.
“Yes,” you told him, your smile turning big. “Heavenly. That’s what you are.”
Hunter studied for face, his expression pensive before he spoke.
“I’ve heard people say this–” his fingers skimmed his face and down his chest, knocking yours, “–is the mark of the devil.”
You frowned. “Who said that?”
“People. When we were children. I…faced ridicule. And in turn, it marked my brothers. It got worse when Crosshair was born, and the stain across his eye became known. We were outcasts already, but this made it worse.”
Your heart broke thinking of Hunter as a child, facing ridicule for something he could not control, for something that made him unique. If he was protective over his family now, you could only imagine back then. What a silly superstition. How could anyone look at Hunter, see how he was with his family and with others, and think he was anything but an angel? No mark upon his face should dictate who he was. 
You shook your head and pressed your hand against the centre of his chest, right above his heart. You felt it beat steadily under your palm, the rhythm matching yours. You met his eyes.
“They could not be more wrong,” you told him softly in earnest.
You felt his heartbeat speed up underneath your palm, making you smile. You watched an expression pass through his face. Was it relief? You felt his hands on your thighs squeeze before he captured the hand that lay on his chest between both of his and kissed your palm softly.
“That’s…very nice to hear.” You heard his voice break a little as he spoke, his mouth pulling into a sincere smile that conveyed so much love, you felt you might burst with it.
Hunter leaned in and captured your lips in his once more, this kiss slow and passionate as it told you without words the depth of his feelings for you. You pulled him closer as you deepened the kiss. You let him drape your arms around his neck, and he shifted so his hands grabbed your hips. He pulled away only for a moment, his lips murmuring into yours.
“‘M gonna switch us,” he mumbled. You only nodded, and a laugh rippled from you as Hunter hoisted your body against his. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he swiftly switched your places, so he sat on the bench and you straddled his lap. Hunter pulled you in so your centre was pressed against the ties of his breeches. It was a scandalous feeling that flowed through you as felt Hunter’s bulge against you. You gasped as he let out a strangled sound. You pulled back to look at him, a mix of an amused and tortured smile on his face as he looked up at you.
“Oh, I like this position,” you told him.
“Yeah? Me too,” he said and buried his head in your neck, kissing there as he pulled your body against his again, rocking you into the hardness of him through the cotton of your chemise. You moaned, feeling your folds slick again, despite only coming a mere five minutes ago.
“Hunter, I need you,” you told him. 
Hunter groaned into your collarbone. “I need you too. I’m out of patience.”
You felt him shift his hold on you, so one hand held you at the small of your back and kept you from sliding off him, and the other quickly untied the fastenings of his breeches and shifted them down slightly. You slid a hand down between you, fingers knocking against his as you felt his cock spring up against his stomach. You gasped when your fingertips brushed his length, the skin hot and hard. He groaned and wrapped his hand around your wrist.
“Please.” His voice practically trembled. 
You looked at him and watched the way his eyebrows had slanted down at the ends, his mouth parted. You slowly grazed your fingernails against his length and he jerked underneath you.
“Christ,” he panted.
You wrapped your hand around his length, the way you’d read about, and you heard him groan. Both his hands went to your back, clutching the gaping fabric of your chemise. The way he was reacting only made your stomach tighten and your folds flood with wetness. And you’d barely touched him. 
You looked down between you and saw the head of his cock had pooled with precum already. You circled your thumb over the small slit there, coating it and Hunter hissed, head burying in your neck and teeth biting the meat of your shoulder. You moaned, heat running through you. The hilt of his cock was nestled with dark curls and you shifted your hand down and up. Hunter cried out, head falling back as he looked at you, eyes bleary.
“My love, I’m so worked up right now, I will not last if you keep doing that.”
“What?” You feigned innocence. “This?”
You moved your hand again the same way, squeezing a little this time, and Hunter’s eyes screwed shut as he yelped again, shifting your body closer to his. Your centre chaffed against your chemise which rubbed against his cock.
“Christ.” His neck strained before he reached up and smoothed a hand over your hair. “I need to be inside you.”
Nerves and excitement fluttered through you at his words. You had read about such things, of course, and had wanted so badly to experience sex with Hunter, but now being presented with the very situation you had dreamed of happening with Hunter filled you with uncertainty. You wanted this to go right, for him to enjoy himself with you.
“I need that too,” you told him.
“It…It might hurt a little at first,” he said, hand smoothing your hair again. “We’ll go slow. And you tell me to stop and I will.”
You smiled at his concern, his care. “I trust you.”
Hunter smiled at you and pulled you in for a lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Lift up for me, sweet girl.”
You placed your hands on his shoulders and raised yourself on your knees, the stone bench beneath them digging in a little as butterflies swooped in your stomach. Hunter lifted you against him, hands under your thighs as he moved you both to the ground.
“Next time we do this, it will be in a bed,” he told you, his voice light with mild annoyance. You laughed as he lay you back against the pile of clothes you had created, a makeshift mattress out under the stars.
You looked at him as he leaned over you, body in between your legs, dark curls falling over his shoulders and hanging down. The lantern by the bench provided a warm orange glow, but the moon did most of the work, lighting up his hooked nose and gorgeous face. With the stars behind him, you placed his hair behind his ear with a smile, in awe of him.
“What is it?” he asked, mouth lifting into a smile. You felt the lines of his smile stretch under your hand on his cheek.
“I love you,” you told him simply because it explained everything.
He smiled, and you felt his skin heat before he bent to kiss you once more. He kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours before he pulled back. His eyes stayed on you, a soft reassuring expression as he bunched your chemise around your hips, spread your legs so you were completely open to him and positioned himself. Your heartbeat quickened as you felt him at your entrance.
“Are you ready, my love?” he asked, his voice as soft as his eyes.
You let out a shaky breath before nodding and biting your lip.
Hunter nodded and in a hushed voice, told you to try and relax as he slowly pushed in. He moaned, face screwed as he sunk himself inside you, hands tightening on your hips. Despite your slickness, the stretch caused some pain to bolt through you and you hissed, your hands curling around his forearms.
Hunter immediately stopped, eyes flying open as he looked down at you with concern. “Are you okay?”
You nodded and took a breath. “Keep going.”
Hunter watched your expression as he slowly moved further in until he was fully seated inside you. You screwed your eyes shut, fingernails digging into his arms, and you felt one of his hands rub up and down your thighs as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. It was full feeling, but not overly uncomfortable. The books you’d read glossed over this part. 
You felt embarrassed, waiting a moment for your body to be okay to keep going and opened your eyes as you rushed to say, “I’m sorry, I’m just–”
“Hush,” Hunter told you, silencing you gently, his expression soft. “We have all the time in the world.”
You let out a breath before he continued, mouth tipping up at the side. “Though the way you’re squeezing me…”
You grinned, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Good?”
“Incredible,” Hunter sighed.
You both laughed together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Hunter brushed some strands of hair back as he looked down at you and you felt yourself and your anxieties ease. He was so incredibly special.
You shifted underneath him as your body had grown used to him. “I think you can move now.”
“Nice and slow,” he confirmed with you.
Both you and Hunter made sounds of pleasure as he started to rock into you, pulling out a little before moving back in, the movement becoming more fluid and easy as he kept going. Hunter’s grip on your hips guided the movements, and you moaned as the nub of your folds bumped against him.
“Christ, you’re so pretty like this,” he told you as you moved your hips against him to match his thrusts. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”
He bent to kiss you once more as he slid inside you again. His hips rolled into yours in easy languid motions, his cock moving in and out of you. You moaned, fingers clawing his back as he began to quicken his movements, thrusts now steady and hard as the pleasure built inside you. You stockinged legs coming up and sliding around his waist, one ankle pushing in at the small of his back to pull him in deeper. 
Sex with Hunter was much better than anything you had ever read, better than your own fingers. His thrusts confident yet never painful, his hands firm but never hurting. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you was unbelievable, and you were so glad you were able to experience such a thing with him. That he survived the war, and your love for each other had endured. And now, under the stars, he took you in a way that showed all his love for you. 
You’d both been patient for this, and he may have said he had never been virtuous, but the way he was making you feel right now felt religious; the feverent way he held you and loved you was almost sacramental, the angel he was. 
Hunter’s grip on your hips tightened and you watched the way his need for you eclipsed his features. It was an expression you liked and wanted to see more of. His pupils blown, mouth parted, hair messy. It pleased you to know that you made him like that.
The only sounds that filled the night were both of your moans and groans and the slap of Hunter’s hips against the backs of your thighs. Hunter’s movements increased, as did the husky sound that came from the back of his throat with each one. Hunter’s grip moved to take your hands from his shoulders, pressing them next to your head as he laced your fingers together. Each thrust buried him inside you, the hilt of his cock brushing your nub enough that you felt the heat in you rising, coiling in your stomach. It was intoxicating, and you never wanted him to stop.
“I’m…I’m so close, my love,” Hunter panted, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow in the moonlight.
“As am I,” you told him breathlessly, hands squeezing his.
“Where?” he asked, and you felt him twitch inside you, on the cusp of it.
You were familiar with the question; your novels prepared you for this part. “Inside,” you told him without an ounce of hesitation.
Hunter groaned, his pacing stuttering. “Are you certain? It could–”
“Yes,” you cut him off. “Please. I know the risk and I am unbothered by it.”
Hunter’s face fell into your neck, groan vibrating against your skin, teeth nipping there gently. “Christ,” you heard him mumble. “You’ve ruined me.”
After several deep thrusts that you felt hit the furthest part of your core, he faltered and you heard him cry out as he stilled, and you felt him spill inside you. His hands tightened on yours, palms pressing together they may as well be fused. 
You gasped, moaning as he shuddered above you, no longer able to hold his weight fully, he let himself drape his body on top of yours. Warmth pooled between your legs, and you rolled your hips against the hilt of his cock. Hunter hissed at the moment as he caught his breath, lifting his head to look at you with hooded eyes. Hunter stayed seated inside you as he slowly unlaced his hands from yours so he could shift off you slightly and lift himself up enough to slide a hand between your bodies. 
“Your turn,” he told you before he slanted an open mouth kiss over your lips as his fingers brushed your nub, making you jerk and gasp into his mouth. 
His fingers circled there slowly at first before they increased, rubbing with his fore and middle fingers which were coated in your slick. You felt the pleasure rising rapidly and you barely had time to say anything before you fell over the edge, that pleasure erupting from you as you cried out, mouth open under his and eyes shut. You shuddered and writhed underneath his body as he drew out your orgasm, legs trembling as you squeezed his length still inside you, making him moan into your mouth. The feeling was indescribable, more intense than your previous orgasm had been, and you clutched at his forearm and shoulder, wishing this feeling never came to an end.
You were completely his, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Then his fingers slowed, and your body came down from its peak, limbs feeling like jelly. You opened your eyes to see his brown ones staring back at you, noses knocking as you both smiled, feeling each other lips stretch with your own.
Hunter placed one last kiss on your lips before he pulled back. You laughed lightly, too happy to fully conceal it. You pushed his hair back and bit your lip. Hunter smiled down at you, birthmark flushed, then bent to kiss your cheek. 
“So beautiful,” he whispered.
Your face heated as he slowly slid out of you, the loss of him a dull ache as your body readjusted to the empty feeling. Hunter rose to his knees and tucked himself back into his breeches before reaching out to adjust your chemise, hands running down your stockings once he had. He smiled and shook his head at you.
“You should see how you look right now,” he said, a rueful expression painting his face.
Your hands flew to your cheeks, pressing your fingers against the hot skin. “Why?”
“You’re an angel,” he said, fumbling for his cravat to wipe you and his fingers with.
“No, you are,” you told him as the silk fabric slid across your folds.
Hunter laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Did I go too hard?”
“You were perfect,” you assured him, the soreness between your thighs a common symptom post-coitus, according to your books. 
Hunter lay next to you and propped up on his elbow and you turned a little to face him, smile unable to leave your face. He smiled lovingly at you, and you at him. He opened his mouth when a deep baritone bellowed from somewhere outside the maze.
“Hunter! You better get back here! The Commodore’s looking for his daughter!” Wrecker’s voice carried over the hedges.
You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. Hunter smiled and shook his head.
“We better go,” he said, sitting up then standing and holding a hand out to you.
“How long have we been gone?” You asked, taking his hand. Hunter pulled you up with such strength you fell forward into his arms, pressed against his chest. He caught you easily.
“Long enough,” he said. “Can’t keep him waiting.”
You looked up at him reassuringly when you saw his expression turn thoughtful, hands on his upper ams and circling the skin there with your thumbs. “He will be pleased.”
Hunter smiled at your words and you returned it before pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I’ll need your help to lace me up.”
Hunter’s smile turned into a grin, his teeth white in the moonlight. “I’ll be gentle.”
“You always are,” you told him placing your lips to his one last time before the secret of the two of you would be revealed, and your always with Hunter began.
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this is the last part of falling for mr. batchbury, but please let me know if you would like to see more of the batchbury brothers...because these are a delight to write! otherwise, i have more fics coming so stay tuned! thank you for reading and supporting me!
🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook @burningfieldof-clover @queencousland101 @clonethirstingisreal @skellymom @hopelessromantic727 @rebel-ezra @lulalovez
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ja3yun · 1 month
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The Doll House | Park Jongseong
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doll!jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft dom!jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), punishment, pussy slapping, begging, slight choking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, princess), mentions of fire and other supernatural elements, anything else lmk! wc: 10.3k synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion after a month but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house and how they came to be. sunghoon | masterlist | heeseung a/n: hi! with this being the third instalment for this series, it's finally answering some questions while also posing some more! i truly enjoyed writing this chapter and i hope the little word plays and everything get your gears turning with theories! i enjoy hearing your theories so much like i can't even describe it <3 thank you so so so much for the love, i am forever grateful. likes, reblogs, feedback etc are all appreciated!
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The doorbell chimes through the air, pulling your attention away from putting away the dishes in the kitchen, and a grin effortlessly spreads across your face. Mia's visit today after a month apart fills you with an immediate sense of joy. Though Jaeyun and Sunghoon are great company to keep, nothing quite compares to the presence of your best friend.
Her absence has been so obvious; her infectious energy seems to breathe life into everywhere she goes, which is a much-missed aura in this mansion; her presence has the power to dispel the shadows and chill that cling to the brick walls.
"Who could that be?" Sunghoon's voice interrupts your thoughts as he strolls around the kitchen island.
"It's Mia, remember? The friend I came here with. I told you she would be coming," you remind him gently, accepting the cup he just dried.
Sunghoon and Jaeyun both offer their assistance with the chores, but their motivations are drastically different. Jaeyun's assistance comes from a place of actually wanting to help and spend quality time with you, whereas Sunghoon is helping because the faster you finish, the sooner he can fuck you in whatever room you wind up in.
Despite your initial concerns, their dynamic surprises you as they seamlessly work in tandem. Rather than competing for your attention, they've embraced the idea of sharing you - an unexpected but pleasant development.
Jaeyun's bright smile at the island warms the room, his anticipation evident, "Will Mia be staying for the last month?" he inquires eagerly.
“Why? Is Y/N not enough?” Sunghoon jabs playfully, his eyebrow arching at his brother's question. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close so your back is pressed against his chest as he leans his head on your shoulder, "If you'd rather be with Mia, I’m more than happy to have my baby girl all to myself," he murmurs against your neck, planting a gentle kiss on the nape.
Your skin tingles with a mix of excitement and affection as Sunghoon leaves a faint mark, a delighted expression dancing across your face.
“No, no! I was just curious," Jaeyun protests with a pout, his posture relaxing into a slight slouch.  He’s so cute when Sunghoon teases him like that, you’re almost reluctant to stop it. 
But before you can say anything, Sunghoon gently turns you to face him, his expression softening as he meets your gaze, "Remember," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of seriousness, "you can’t tell Mia about us, yeah?”
Of course, you knew that telling her would be disastrous no matter the outcome. She would either think you were crazy and lost your mind, or she would tell the world. Your best friend was never the best at keeping secrets.
“I know, don’t worry,” you offer the simple words as reassurance to him, which paired with the sincerity in your eyes, he gladly accepts.
Leaning in, Sunghoon lands a soft kiss on your lips, his kind gesture relieving any remaining anxieties, "Good. Now, once she's finally fucking gone, come find me in my room," he says with a sly leer, his fingers slithering teasingly over your sides - a familiar trick he uses to make you weak. You should reprimand him for speaking so dismissively about your best friend's arrival, but he just has the power to make you forget.
Sunghoon's demeanour takes a brief shift as he addresses Jaeyun, a hint of authority creeping into his tone, "And you," he gestures towards Jaeyun behind you, his expression momentarily serious, "if you're staying here, you stay absolutely still, got it?"
"Okay, Dad, jeez," Jaeyun retorts, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance at the implication that he needs to be reminded.
You grasp Sunghoon's concern, especially given that you're currently aware of the doll's secret due to Jaeyun's loose lips. However, Sunghoon's tone feels unnecessarily harsh. Jaeyun holds a special place in your heart, and you find yourself fiercely protective of him. It irks you to see Sunghoon address him in such a condescending manner, as if he's incapable of handling himself.
Feeling defensive of Jaeyun, you push against Sunghoon's arm, shooting him a stern look, a firm reminder that he should catch his tongue because both of you know how it affects Jaeyun.
The bell rings again, drawing all three of your attention back to Mia's imminent arrival. Sunghoon excuses himself to his room, and Jaeyun settles comfortably into a chair, leaving you to answer the door with the unspoken reassurance that Mia won’t uncover their secret. But then again, what if you slip up?
It's a nagging worry in the back of your mind as you approach the door. Mia knows everything about you - every hook-up, every situationship, even mundane details like what you had for breakfast each morning. She's your confidante for everything, even the embarrassing stuff like bursting spots on your backside. With her, nothing is off-limits.
You remind yourself to keep your wits about you, to guard your words carefully in Mia's presence. The last thing you need is to accidentally let slip the truth about the dolls and your illicit affairs with them. 
You need to keep your wits about you.
As you swing open the door, greeted by the radiant presence of the angel you call your best friend, every worry and concern fades into the background. Her infectious smile and warm embrace envelop you, dispelling any lingering doubts or anxieties.
"Baby!" you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement as you wrap Mia in a tight embrace, swinging her from side to side. Though it's only been a month since you last saw her, it feels like an eternity.
Mia reciprocates your enthusiasm, squeezing you just as tightly, the warmth of her embrace filling you with a sense of homecoming. Both of you laugh and struggle to breathe amidst the suffocating love you shower upon each other, relishing in the joy of being reunited.
"God, I've missed you. It's so boring back in the city without you," Mia confesses, her words honest as she finally draws back to assess you. Suddenly, she pushes you to arm's length, her hands gripping your shoulders as she scrutinises you with a sceptical expression. With a flick of her finger, she motions for you to turn around, and you oblige, doing a quick twirl to indulge her curiosity.
You give her a quizzical look, tilting your head in silent inquiry as to what she's up to. "You're glowing, like literally, you look fucking amazing," she observes, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.
"Don't I always?" you jest in response.
"Obviously, but you've got that honeymoon glow," Mia insists, walking into the house but not before nudging you with her shoulder. "Is there a hot gardener here that I don't know about, hmm?"
Laughing, you shake your head, dismissing her playful insinuations. You make a conscious effort to maintain the facade, concealing your unconventional relationships with the dolls from Mia, despite her keen observations. 
They must be fucking you good for her to notice a change within a minute of seeing you. 
Mia follows you to the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the various porcelain dolls scattered throughout the hallway, just as she had when you both met Soonyeol for the first time. You sense her unease, evident in the hurried pace of her steps as she tries desperately to evade the watchful eyes of the dolls. 
What she finds unsettling, you've grown to find some comfort in. Each time you clean them, you develop a newfound admiration for their intricate beauty and craftsmanship. Sometimes, Sunghoon will even tell you stories about certain dolls and their origins, adding to the mystique surrounding them.
Entering the kitchen, you find Jaeyun still perched on his seat, his usual joyful smile replaced by a stoic expression as he takes on his doll persona. 
It’s weird to see him like this now, especially because you’ve seen him convey every emotion possible on that beautiful face of his; the solemn look he wears now just feels wrong.
"I brought non-alcoholic wine," Mia announces, reaching into her bag and producing two bottles of white wine. Since she’s driving, she’s bringing you along in her sobriety for the day. If it was easy to get an Uber in these parts, she certainly wouldn’t be settling for 0.05%.
You chuckle at the sight, "Seriously? Gary Barlow wine?" you tease, unable to resist poking fun at her choice.
Mia feigns offence, placing a hand dramatically over her heart, "I'll have you know this is my idea of a very nice day out," she retorts, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone as she quotes his TikTok video, struggling to suppress a giggle. "That, and it was £2 off with my clubcard."
You both burst into laughter, her tension from earlier dissipating as you share a lighthearted moment. Grabbing two large glasses, you place them on the table, inviting Mia to pour some for you both.
"How was the drive?" you inquire, taking a small sip of wine.
"It was fine, although longer than I remember," Mia replies with a huff, sinking into a seat opposite Jaeyun. You notice her discomfort as she eyes him, face contorting in a form of disgust, "How has it been here?" she asks, wishing to know how on earth you’re coping in a mansion with such watchful eyes.
"It's a big house, lots to clean. All in all, it's been good.” You sip your wine, struggling to maintain the facade of normalcy. 
The urge to confide in Mia, to unburden yourself of the secrets weighing heavily on your shoulders, is almost overwhelming. You want to tell her about the dolls, the ominous door that almost blinded you, and the sense of anxiety you feel sometimes when you roam the hallways. But you swallow the truth down, burying it beneath layers of false smiles and empty reassurances. It's a lonely feeling, knowing that you can't share your fears and anxieties with your closest friend. But for now, it's a burden you'll have to bear alone.
Mia accepts your answer with a sceptical expression, her eyes never wavering from Jaeyun's impassive face, "It's so fucking creepy," she murmurs into her glass, her discomfort evident in her tone, "Do you actually have to place them around the house? Can't you keep them locked up or something?"
You glance at Jaeyun, hoping for a flicker of reassurance in his eyes, but they remain devoid of emotion, sending a shiver down your spine. It's unsettling to see him so detached, his usual warmth replaced by an eerie emptiness.
Gathering your resolve, you pick up your glass and move to stand beside Jaeyun, offering him a supportive smile before responding to Mia. "It's part of the job, Mia. Soonyeol entrusted me with the responsibility of caring for them," you explain, your voice tinged with a mixture of obligation and fondness.
Mia scoffs at your explanation, "Girl, you're in a mansion on your own, just clean up on the last day. It's not like she would notice," she suggests, her nose upturned in disdain. You can tell that this whole situation is deeply unsettling for her, a puzzle she can't quite solve without knowing the full truth. She will never understand until she’s in your shoes.
"It's... nice, to look after them like this," you say wistfully, casting a fond glance down at Jaeyun as you speak.
Unable to resist the urge to offer him a comforting touch, you reach out to tuck a loose strand of Jaeyun's hair behind his ear, a small gesture of affection. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to nuzzle himself into your touch but Sunghoon’s words are still ringing in his mind.
Mia observes your interaction with a mixture of curiosity and concern, her eyes flitting between you and Jaeyun as if trying to decipher the unspoken language passing between you. You’ve only ever looked at one other man the way you look at him and it was your high school sweetheart.
The connection you share with Sunghoon and Jaeyun is utterly unlike anything you've ever known. They resonate with your soul in a way that defies rational explanation, leaving you convinced that they must be otherworldly beings. There has to be more to them than just kindred spirits trapped in the shell of these dolls; no mere human soul could evoke such a profound hold over you.
She scoffs and laughs in disbelief at your act of affection, “You’ve lost it, completely lost it. Being in this house alone has driven you to insanity,” she shakes her head, crossing her arms.
You retract your hand from Jaeyun and look at her in wonder, “What do you mean?”
It’s completely lost on you how this could look to her because for you this is normal. Soonyeol was strange in your eyes when you first arrived, Mia also accused the owner of being crazy, but now you understand Soonyeol and her attachment to her dolls.
Mia's incredulous gaze flickers between you and Jaeyun, her words dripping with disdain. "Look at you fixing that stupid doll's hair!" she exclaims, her voice laced with exasperation as if your actions are the epitome of absurdity, "You're going to turn into that creepy bitch who lives here."
Her words cut through the air like a knife, slicing through the fragile peace of the moment. You can’t feel it but you know Jaeyun would be tensing under her words if he had the ability to. Jaeyun doesn’t like it when people talk bad about his owner, especially since the reason Mia finds her so creepy is because of him and his brothers. 
He does understand to an extent that Soonyeol being so young and cooped up with four dolls in a mansion that can only rival the one in Saltburn might be seen as weird, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about it, considering the passing comment is from someone who knows nothing about her.
You place a calming hand on Jaeyun's shoulder, your protective instincts kicking into high gear. "Listen, if you're going to run your mouth, just fucking go," you retort harshly, your voice fueled by your need to shield Jaeyun from Mia's unnecessary commentary.
Mia's eyes widen in disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and frustration. "Y/N, listen to yourself," she chides, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment, “You've gone stark crazy... maybe you should come home-"
"No!" The word bursts from your lips in a panic, cutting off Mia's well-meaning suggestion before she can finish. The thought of leaving sends a wave of fear coursing through you.
Mia recoils at your outburst, taken aback by the intensity of your reaction. "Y/N, I don't think it's good for you here," she pleads, her tone softening as she reaches out to touch your arm.
But you pull away, shaking your head vehemently. "You literally said I was glowing all but 10 minutes ago," you snap back, narrowing your eyes at her, "Just fucking go."
There's a moment of tense silence as Mia processes your words, her expression shifting from concern to anger. She knows there's no reasoning with you when you're in this state, and she can sense the wall you've built around yourself.
"Fine. I'll see you when you screw your head back on," she spits out at you, her voice dripping with ire and disappointment. With one final, venomous glare at Jaeyun, she grabs her bag and storms out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the halls.
You're left standing there, the echoes of her departure ringing in your ears. Despite the sting of her words, you can't bring yourself to regret your decision to kick her out. At the end of the day, this is the dolls’ house and you wouldn’t like it if someone came into your flat and disrespected you or your belongings.
But you can’t help but process her words as you calm down. You know she is just looking out for you, showing her genuine concern because she knows what isolation can do to someone and their mental state, and maybe she is right. You are attached to the dolls way beyond your own comprehension and it’s taken you just now to truly realise it. 
You cussed out your best friend to protect the feelings of a doll. It's a sobering thought, one that fills you with a sense of unease and self-doubt. 
Maybe you should have gone with her, go back to your normal life, and forget about this place.
In the silence of the room, you turn to Jaeyun, and suddenly any wish to leave vanishes. Just like that. His face now upturned to look at you with sorrow. He looks so beautiful in this light that his being is almost angelic.
You cup his face with your hands, using your thumbs to stroke any semblance of comfort into him before speaking, "She doesn't mean it, Jaeyun," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the room, "She just doesn't understand."
Jaeyun nods slowly, knowing that you’re trying to appease his mind but what’s said has already bruised him. 
Kissing Jaeyun's nose, you offer him a tender smile before gently patting his cheeks. With a sigh, you reluctantly release your hold on him, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, "I'll go check on the others," you murmur softly,  "I'll be back in a bit."
_____
You shake off whatever you’re feeling and head through the mansion to help the other dolls. Admittedly, your task for moving them around has become much easier now that Jaeyun and Sunghoon move freely except for dinner time, which has freed up a good chunk of your time.
Each step you take echoes softly off the aged floorboards, their worn surfaces groaning beneath your weight. Sunlight filters sparingly through the windows, casting long shadows that dance across the dimly lit passages, adding to the eerie yet enchanting atmosphere of the mansion.
Sometimes you wonder about its history and its owner. How did a 20-something obtain such a grand house and why does she live alone? Of course, she has the boys but even then you can’t exactly take them on a night in the town. It’s so strange to see someone your age devoid of the usual life a young person would lead; no mobile, no wi-fi, not even a computer in sight. 
The more you stay here though, you understand her a little bit better. There’s a comfort in the way this mansion takes your superficial worries away, like how many likes you have on your Instagram post or how people perceive you in general. The eyes that follow you here can’t pass judgment on you, which at the beginning was terrifying but now brings you a strange sort of solace.
As you navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, you can't help but feel a sense of companionship with the dolls scattered throughout. With each step, you offer a soft greeting to your porcelain companions, their frozen expressions seeming to acknowledge your presence in return. If Mia stayed that day, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so threatened by them. 
"Hello there, lovely," you murmur as you pass a doll perched on a velvet chaise longue, her delicate features bathed in the subdued sunlight streaming through the window. You straighten her white-laced dress and smile politely.
Even though the porcelain girl remains silent, you know she’s thankful.
You asked Sunghoon if it was just the four of them who could talk, curious about the dolls that decorate the shelves of the house. He informed you that they aren't sentient beings but each one has a complex past and represents an identity in their own way. Ever since then, you’ve started to view them differently, a new appreciation for them blooming.
While you’re fixing a doll standing regally on the shelf by a towering grandfather clock, her elegant gown billowing around her like a ghostly mist, a faint melody drifts into your ears. It's a common occurrence, though typically happens in the dead of night. Sometimes, in the quiet hours, the strains of a piano tune or the gentle plucking of guitar strings would echo through the halls, adding to the mansion's eerie ambience. 
On your first few nights here, it made you quiver under your bed quilt but now you’ve come to find it a beautiful lullaby.
Following the source of the music, you're drawn to the open doors of the music room, their inviting stance beckoning you inside. Peering around the wall, you catch sight of one of the dolls seated with a guitar, fingers moving across the strings with practised ease.
His head hangs low, a curtain of dark brown hair obscuring half of his face, yet you recognize him instantly. It's Jongseong, his broad shoulders and golden complexion a telltale sign, along with his sharp jawline drawing attention to the almost heart-shaped mark on his neck. 
You can't help but admire the striking beauty that emanates from him, even in this quiet moment of solitude. Sunghoon and Jaeyun's stories about his kindness flood you and memories of his selfless gestures are etched vividly in your brain. 
You recall the time when Jongseong risked getting caught just to offer you a simple plaster for your pricked finger, his compassion shining through despite the potential consequences. And then there are the small, subtle acts of care that he continues to bestow upon you, like the glass of water that mysteriously appears by your bedside table each morning, a silent gesture of his thoughtfulness. 
Then there's the delicate daisy that sometimes rests on your pillow before you go to bed for the night, a token from the front garden that Jongseong must have plucked with care, knowing how much you adore its simple beauty. Every day you go outside and admire the flower as it basks in the summer sun, its life a brightness to contrast the otherwise dreary house.
Jaeyun and Sunghoon both deny any involvement in the sweet actions, leaving Jongseong as the only possible culprit.
“You can come in you know,” his voice suddenly speaks over the gently strum.
Your breath catches at the unexpected sound of his voice, and you freeze in place, startled by his acknowledgement of your presence. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if you imagined it, but the gentle strumming of the guitar persists, a soothing backdrop to his quiet words.
With cautious steps, you inch further into the room, the rhythmic thud of your heart echoing in your ears and adding percussion to his song. Jongseong's gaze remains fixed on the strings of the guitar, his hair casting shadows across his face that do little to mask his smirk.
Now how does he know that you know about him?
Jongseong suddenly screeches the guitar to a halt, his eyes lifting to meet yours with an air of knowingness, "You seem in shock for some reason," he observes, his voice soft yet perceptible in the stillness of the room. With careful precision, he returns the guitar to its glass cabinet.
Your heart skips a beat, torn between maintaining the facade of ignorance and embracing the truth about Jongseong's secret. As his gaze holds yours, uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving your voice hesitant and faltering. "I... I am?" you manage to utter, the words tinged with a hint of doubt.
Wow, so convincing, Y/N, you internally chastise yourself for the lacklustre response, feeling the weight of your indecision bearing down on you. But before you can gather your thoughts and make a quick save for your fumble.
"Jaeyun and Sunghoon are terrible liars," he remarks, his voice calm and composed. "And I saw you just there, comforting Jaeyun because of what your friend said."
His candid admission catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Just like Sunghoon, Jongseong quickly discerned the truth, his thoughts solidified by Mia's careless words and your instinctive need to shield Jaeyun.
Exhaling slowly, you release the tension that had knotted your muscles, allowing yourself to relax a fraction. "She really doesn’t mean it," you clarify to Jongseong, hoping to ease his mind as you had done with his brother.
"It’s okay, you look fucking crazy, to be fair, fussing over some dolls," he replies, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, much to your relief. Considering Jongseong’s caring nature, you wouldn’t want her words to bruise his kind spirit.
You bristle at his casual reference to them as 'dolls,' unable to bear the thought of diminishing their significance, "You aren’t just 'some dolls,' Jongseong," you protest, your voice laced with compassion.
Rising from his seat, Jongseong offers a faint smile as he approaches you with unthreatening steps. "We know that, but she doesn’t. Don’t be too hard on her," he reassures calmingly, his words like a balm to the part of your brain that had been feuding with Mia, now quieting and subsiding under his simple wisdom.
As his hand gently strokes your hair, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you, his touch soothing the lingering unease in your mind. His fingers then trace down to your chin, his touch tender, "You’re good with him, you know, with Jaeyun," he observes softly, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that draws you in.
"He brings out a protective side of me, I don’t really know why," you admit quietly, your eyes locked with Jongseong's as you speak. His half-smirk in response only deepens the adoration reflected in your widened pupils. He closes his eyes like he knows something you don't.
Jongseong playfully pinches your chin before withdrawing his hand,  "Yeah, Soonyeol has been the same ever since she got him," he remarks.
"Have you been here longer than him?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued as you gesture towards the kitchen where you left Jaeyun.
"I’ve been here for…a long time," Jongseong reveals, his voice tinged with a hint of reminiscence, "Heeseung for 8, Sunghoon for 4, and Jaeyun just over a year.."
The weight of his words swirls in your mind, each year marking a chapter in their shared history within the mansion's walls. You find yourself marvelling at the depth of their experiences, each doll carrying different memories and stories within their hollow frames. It now makes sense why Jaeyun knows so little.
That nugget of information must also mean that Jongseong knows everything there is to know about this place, about each of his brothers, if he has been here for so long. Maybe asking him will unlock the mysteries of this place.
"I'm not trying to pry," you begin tentatively, causing Jongseong to lift his brow in curiosity, "But how can you guys...how are you able to talk?" Your voice trails off slightly as you pose the question, a hint of apprehension colouring your words.
To your surprise, Jongseong chuckles softly and smiles wider in response, "Sunghoon mentioned you were snooping around when you arrived," he remarks, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he lets out a long breath, contemplating his next actions before continuing, "You won't give up until we tell you, will you?"
His words catch you off guard, a mixture of relief and curiosity flooding through you. Despite your initial hesitation, Jongseong's casual response reassures you, hopefully paving the way for an open and honest conversation that can curb your nosiness.
“Come on and I’ll show you.”
_____
With intertwined fingers, Jongseong leads you into the library, your mind buzzing with anticipation at the possibilities of what he could be showing you. You grip his hand tighter, excitement coursing through your veins as he pulls you towards the far end of the room.
But as you near that god-awful painting of the sheep, a sense of dread washes over you, sending a chill down your spine. Suddenly, you release Jongseong's hand, the realisation of what he's doing hitting you like a ton of bricks.
"Oh, no, no, no," you protest vehemently, shaking your head in refusal, "I am NOT going near that room."
Your mind flashes back to the burning sensation in your eyes, the eerie red light searing into your retinas. Over the past few weeks, you've actively avoided that creepy room, refusing to even glance in its direction. Your curiosity may be insatiable, but you draw the line at risking letting out whatever is in there just in the name of discovering a secret.
Your irises mirror the turmoil within you, reflecting the fear and trepidation that grips your heart. You've made a vow to steer clear of that door and any other painting in this place, focusing your investigations on less ominous artefacts like locked cupboards and hidden pages within books.
Jongseong looks at you with concern, his brows furrowing in disbelief as he processes your words, “You know about this door?" he asks incredulously, wondering how on earth you ever managed to find it.
"Yes, and I am not going near it," you retort defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest like a stubborn child, "It almost blinded me!"
As you stand your ground, refusing to budge an inch, Jongseong's expression softens, his concern evident in the gentle gaze he fixes upon you, "I promise you, Sweetheart, there is nothing in there that can hurt you, not when I'm with you, okay?" he reassures, his hand finding yours once more as he brings it to his lips, kissing away the surge of fear that threatens to engulf you.
You can see the sincerity in his eyes, knowing that he will protect you from whatever dangers may lie beyond that wooden door.
With a hesitant nod, you allow Jongseong to lead you forward, you trust him but you’re still cautious enough to keep your wits about you, trailing two steps behind him.
Reaching the top of the wooden panel that frames the door, he takes the spare key and unlocks the door. It was really in front of you the entire time and you had no clue; you’re no Sherlock Holmes, that’s for sure.
You let out a breath and scrunch your face, being ready for anything as he swings the door open. Yet, you’re met with darkness - no red light, no flickering flames, nothing like what you saw through the keyhole.
But why does that scare you more?
Jongseong pulls you in, his grip on your hand loosening as he flicks on some lanterns. The room, once plunged with darkness now has a soft glow from the lanterns as they gradually illuminate the space, revealing its secrets in flickering shadows.
It's a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, with its black stone walls absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. The air feels heavy with the weight of something you can’t put your finger on, every corner whispering tales of those you’ll never understand or know.
In the centre of the room stands an altar, its surface weathered with age and a stone bowl resting atop it like an ancient relic. Symbols etched into the stone tell stories that you can’t translate, the old language lost on you.
As you take in the sight before you, a shiver runs down your spine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity coursing through your veins. Where did the red light come from if everything in here looks like it belongs in the Addams Family house?
"What is all this?" you ask, your curiosity overcoming any sense of apprehension as you creep closer to the altar. It's reminiscent of ones you've seen in movies depicting satanic rituals, yet even with its eerie aura, you can't resist the urge to touch it, your fingers tracing the lines of its rim.
"The office," Jongseong replies casually, as if this were a mundane space for everyday tasks like taxes and emails. He flicks on the last lantern and shuts the door firmly, ensuring privacy and avoiding suspicion from any passersby.
As you stand mesmerised by the ceremonial bowl, Jongseong notices your admiration and smiles, "This is the ceremonial bowl," he begins to explain, his body now behind yours, his presence both comforting and electrifying as he presses slightly against you. His fingers intertwine with yours, guiding your touch along the edge of the bowl, "This is how we were summoned"
"Summoned?" you echo, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn to face Jongseong, your eyes wide with disbelief and intrigue.
“Oh, Sweetheart, to bring a doll to life, you need to give it an entity.”
“An entity as in…”
“Any form of life; angel, demon, human, that sort of thing. Someone calls and we answer”
The revelation sends a chill down your spine, the idea of imbuing a doll with the essence of a supernatural being is both fascinating and terrifying.
As you process this new information, you can't help but wonder about the origins of the dolls in this mansion, and the entities that dwell within them. They all possess such different charms and energies that you can only imagine each of them comes from different channels of spirits.
“So what are you then?” you ask Jongseong, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of trepidation.
“I’ll leave you to guess that one,” he replies cryptically, pressing himself up against you until your back meets the edge of the altar. The cool stone digs into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
"But you aren’t scared of me, are you, Sweetheart?" he continues, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. You shake your head, unable to deny the truth, "Then that will give you some clue," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air between you like a tantalizing riddle waiting to be solved.
You stand locked in this intimate embrace, his presence gentle despite the surroundings. 
“What about your bodies?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you even though you're not entirely sure what you're asking. Obviously, they didn’t come from the pits of hell or wherever they're from, but you're curious about how Soonyeol managed to choose four dolls, each so perfectly suited to their personalities.
Jongseong tilts his head slightly, considering your question before responding, "Our bodies are vessels," he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, “We were crafted by the hands of Soonyeol, infused with the ashes of her loved ones.”
Jongseong's response sends shivers down your arms and legs, his words so compelling that they leave you speechless for a minute, "Infused with the ashes of her loved ones?" you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your head whirling, your throat dry as you attempt to swallow your nerves.
But before you can fully process what he said, Jongseong breaks out laughing, the sound reverberating off the walls of the poorly lighted room, "She just ordered them online," he says between laughter, his tone lighthearted. "That part isn't as evil unless you count the CO2 emissions from the planes."
Relief floods through you as you realise he’s just joking. You can't help but join in his laughter, the tension melting away as you shake your head in disbelief.
"Oh, you had me going there for a moment," you admit with a chuckle, feeling foolish for having been momentarily taken in by his playful deception.
Jongseong grins mischievously, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "I can give you the link to the site if you want? I know how much fun you’ve been having with the younger ones," he remarks, his laughter fading into a sly grin.
Your cheeks burn crimson at Jongseong's implication, and you shy away slightly, feeling a familiar wave of embarrassment wash over you. It's the same feeling you experienced when Sunghoon called you out for your rendezvous with Jaeyun, a reminder of the unconventional nature of your relationships with the dolls.
You can't shake the nagging feeling that at the end of the day, you're still fucking dolls, no matter how much Sunghoon and Jaeyun reassure you to embrace it. To be fair, the embarrassment hasn’t stopped you yet.
Seeing your flushed face even in the dim light, Jongseong's expression softens with understanding. He cradles your cheeks in his palms, his touch gentle as he strokes your flushed skin, "I'm not judging you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice tender. "I'm just feeling a little left out." He says playfully, making it hard to tell if he is serious or not.
But still his words catch you off guard and you meet his stare with a mixture of surprise and confusion. At that moment, you realise that Jongseong embodies the best of both worlds - the kindness and empathy of Jaeyun, coupled with the confidence and assurance of Sunghoon, coupled with his charm. It's a combination that draws you to him even more, creating a sense of longing.
Throwing caution to the wind, you act on impulse, letting go of any lingering doubts or hesitations. With a surge of boldness, you lean up and press your lips against Jongseong's, catching him off guard with the suddenness of your actions.
His eyes widen in shock at your sudden boldness, but they quickly darken with unmistakable hunger as he responds eagerly to your advance, smothering your mouth with his.
The kiss is electric, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you both, leaving you breathless and craving more. His lips are soft yet demanding against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he pulls you closer, his touch somehow searing hot through your skin.
Jongseong groans as he dances his tongue with yours, the artificial buds on his muscle soaking in your taste. You suck on his tongue softly, eliciting a low snarl from him, his hand coming up to grip your hair roughly, while yours slide up his t-shirt, feeling the bumps of his toned tummy.
Drawing back from his lips, you see his entity burning with desire, his grip on you tightening, “Have you ever been fucked on an altar?” he asks, a smirk obvious on his face even in the dull lighting.
“No,” you breathe out, your chest heaving from the kiss.
“I’ll change that for you…if you’re a good girl,” he teases, the hand wrapped in the strands of your hair pushing your head down until you’re slowly following his guidance, sinking to your knees. From this angle, he looks like a god, a being worth worshipping as his aura glows white.
You know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give it to him without question.
He undoes his belt with one hand, whipping it off hastily and placing it on the altar. You start to undo his trousers but as you move to assist him, your actions are abruptly halted by a sharp tug on your hair, forcing you back with a gasp.
Tears threaten to well in your eyes as the roots of your hair protest the forceful grip, but Jongseong's touch softens as quickly as it had hurt you, his hand now tenderly soothing the discomfort he caused.
"I need you to be good for me. It’s important to be good," he asserts, his voice commanding yet soft, "Only act when I say so, understood? I don't want to have to punish you, Princess. You don’t want that either, do you?"
His choice of words and gentle warning only add to the dampness in your pants, the material fully sticking to your wet cunt. You swallow hard as every word, every touch from Jongseong ignites your sense of being.
Shaking your head, you wonder if you want to obey him and avoid punishment as part of you wonders how far he could go with it.
Jongseong’s a gentle soul with kindness pouring out of him, you question whether it’s a facade to hide something more demanding underneath. Either way, you trust him, so even if you wanted to get a little bratty, you know he would cause you no real harm.
Both his hands are now on your cheeks, trapping you to look at him, “Words, Princess, use them,” he orders.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, licking your lips as you anticipate his cock laying firm on your tongue. 
“Sweetheart, I’ll let you off this once, yeah? Just make sure you listen from now on,” Jongseong offers you a smile, patting your cheeks lightly before continuing, “If you ever want to stop, or I go too far, you tell me immediately. No amount of my pleasure is worth your discomfort.”
Smiling, you nod and quickly remember his instructions, “I will, Jongseong.”
Jongseong's gaze relaxes further with an accepting nod, and his touch is delicate against your skin, "Good girl," he says, his words a quiet affirmation of your submission.
He gives you the go-ahead to continue undoing his trousers which you eagerly do, your fingers quick to release the silver button and pull down his zip, leaving his trousers pooled at his ankles. You can see his member in the protruding silhouette of his boxers. Out of all the dolls, you’ve been most impressed by Jongseong, his cock is everything a person could dream of; girthy, long, like something off of Love Honey in the best seller’s section. 
You discard his boxers next, leaving his member to spring into action. He is so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, admiring every part of the craftsmanship that went into making such a wonder. Raising your hand, you go to wrap your hand around him gently but you pause, realising you probably need to be told that you can indulge yourself.
Jongseong notices your hesitation and lets out a chuckle, his smile morphing into a knowing smirk as you meet his gaze with eager anticipation, "You're free to go, Princess" he announces, much to your delight, and you need no further encouragement.
Grabbing the base of his shaft you pump him a few times, the soft feeling of his skin welcomed along your fingertips. You open your mouth, staring at him as you lick the tip of his shaft a few times, each time pulsing in your hand. The mechanics of these cocks is a wonder, how realistic they all are.
He gathers your hair in his hands, brushing the wispy strands from your face adoringly, careful not to be too rough with you just yet. You look beautiful to him right now, your tongue swirling around his head, the saliva trail you’re leaving behind every time you remove your plump lips to gather your breath. Soonyeol is beautiful, but you’re like his dream come true. There’s a pang of guilt as he thinks about it but when you start sucking his cock lightly, every thought goes out the window.
Hollowing your cheeks, you pump his cock and use your tongue to massage his bell in your warm mouth, the sensation of his cold cock in contrast to your warmth adds a new layer to your pleasure, already excited to feel him deep in your heat. 
His size makes it difficult to fully take him in, so you use a combination of hand and mouth technique. You see the small subtleties in Jongseong's expression - the wrinkle of his brow, the tightening hold of his fist that inadvertently tugs at your hair again - and realise he doesn't mind how you are approaching it, he maybe even loves it.
It gives you a flutter in your tummy as you see his jaw slacking and his hips subconsciously twitching with pleasure. You’re an overachiever, have been your whole life, and while this is doing him wonders right now, you know you can do better.
Popping off his cock, you tap him on your outstretched tongue, grinning widely when his eyes meet yours. With his attention on you, you force him back in your throat, gagging slightly but relishing in the burn, your hands gripping his muscular thighs.
He hisses as with each bob, he hits your throat, “Fuck,” he grits out, pushing slightly to test the boundaries, and when you gag loudly, saliva dripping down your chin with a spurt, he instantly retreats, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he soothes, his hand lifting your chin.
But you liked it, weirdly, the feeling of choking on his cock stirred something inside you, and your thighs become sticky with your arousal that is dripping down - and Jongseong noticed.
“Wait did you like it?” he asks, tightening his hold on your jaw, “You want me to fuck that beautiful throat of yours wide open?” 
God, yes.
With a nod and eyes full of want, you silently express your desire for him to completely ruin you. However, as you resume, a swift smack to your cheek jolts you, rendering a grimace as you look up at him, perplexed.
"Words, Sweetheart, be a good girl," Jongseong prompts, his voice carrying both authority and care. A flicker of understanding crosses his expression as he reaches out to stroke your cheek where his hand had landed moments before. "I'm here to give you what you need," he reassures, his touch tender against your skin, "But you have to tell me."
With a deep breath, you muster the courage to voice your desire, "I want you to fuck my throat," you whisper.
"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" he murmurs, his tone gentle as he encourages your honesty. ain some ways, submitting to a man like this is embarrassing, yet you can’t help but feel completely in control at the same time. He’s giving you the option to have whatever you want, something the other two don’t let you do. Jaeyun lets you take control but it’s all for his pleasure, not for your own, and Sunghoon doesn’t let you do anything on your own at all.
As Jongseong begins to push into your mouth, an upsurge of sensations overwhelms you: the hardness of him filling your mouth, the taste of him combining with your saliva, and the sting of tears welling up in your eyes. Despite this, a pleasure runs through your veins, sparking a burning yearning within you, you want more of him, desperately.
Jongseong's voice cut through the veil of your shared satisfaction, "You're doing so well, Sweetheart," he says, his words a calming symphony contrasting to the burning in your throat.
You respond with a muffled moan, your mouth full as you eagerly take him in, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. 
"I love how you take me," Jongseong whispers, his voice laced with reverence and desire, "You're so good for me. You were born to suck on my cock.”
His words alone are making your clit throb and you can’t take the emptiness, so, you reach down and dip your hand into your panties, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. He continues chanting your praises, so lost in the feeling of your mouth that he hasn’t noticed you seek your own pleasure.
As Jongseong continues to revel in the pleasure of your mouth, a sudden interruption jolts him from his trance-like state. Feeling the subtle shift in your movements, he realises what you’re up to.
With a swift motion, he withdraws from your mouth, his grip firm on your head as he pulls you up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, a mix of desire and admonition as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and needy, beneath him.
"Sweetheart, what do you think you're doing?" he chides, his voice low but commanding, “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, did it?"
“N-no…I just need you so bad, Jongseong.”
Your quivering voice of desperation makes Jongseong’s knees weak, that playful yet needy glint in your eye begging him to take you on the altar. He knows he has to punish you but you look so fucking sweet with your lips plump and drool on either side of your mouth that he’s almost forgiving you. You speak about the power the dolls have, but you have no idea the power you hold over them.  
But he knows he can't let your transgression go unpunished. With a sigh, he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm. "I understand, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tinged with feigned regret, "But rules are rules, and I can't make exceptions."
You accidentally let out a groan of frustration, rubbing your thighs together, hoping the friction can tide you over until he touches you.
sighing, Jongseong reaches out to caress your trembling thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive, "I know you're desperate," he murmurs into your neck, teasingly hovering over your nape with his lips, “So get on the fucking altar.”
With a whimper of surrender, you comply without hesitation, the anticipation of what's to come heightening your senses as you hoist up on the alter, positioning yourself on the edge. Every nerve in your body hums with anticipation, the need for his touch driving you to the brink of madness.
You’re glad that you wore a sundress today, planning to have a fun girls' day with Mia had its benefits even if it went horribly wrong.
In an instant, he rips off your panties, tossing them in the alter bowl haphazardly and hikes the skirt of your dress to your waist. Your pussy looks so delectable that he thinks prolonging stuffing you with his cock might be a punishment to himself rather than you.
But Jongseong is a man of his word, and if he doesn’t let Soonyeol away with anything, he certainly can’t let you. 
He slaps your thigh sharply, a red mark appearing instantly against your skin, “Move back,” he demands, slapping your thigh once again. His tone is authoritive so you do as you’re told, not wanting to disappoint him anymore.
You spread your legs without direction, hoping your compliance will warrant an early yield in your punishment, whatever it may be. Jongseong licks his lips and smiles triumphantly, falling into your trap.
Yet, just as you begin to feel a glimmer of relief, Jongseong's hand comes down with brutal force, striking your pussy with a harsh slap that echoes through the room. The pain is searing, making you cry out in shock and agony, the sound reverberating off the walls as your body recoils from the impact. Each consecutive smack creates a new wave of pain, coupled with a surge of stimulation that makes you dizzy with sensations.
With each hit, Jongseong's expression regret, yet his actions are a contradiction of brutality, "I'm sorry, Princess," he says between strikes, his voice heavy with sorrow, even as his hand strikes you again, "I know it hurts but every act of defiance deserves punishment," Jongseong whispers, his voice an odd soothing balm, "We’re almost done, just two more, you can handle that right?”
His question, paired with the gentle caress of his fingers against your throbbing pussy, relaxes you, knowing that he meant it when he said he would stop if you wanted him to. Even now, as he looks at you, he's silently permitting you to end this.
But you don't want to. Not yet. The ache between your legs, the desperate need for him, drives you to endure just a little longer, "I can take it, Jongseong," you utter, your voice steady despite the trembling of your body. With a slow exhale, you brace yourself for the final two strikes, determined to prove your endurance and earn the reward awaiting you.
Jongseong's gaze softens with admiration, his hand hovering momentarily before delivering the next blow, "You're so strong, Princess," he murmurs, his voice laced with genuine admiration, "I'm proud of you."
The words, spoken amid your ordeal, fill you with a sense of validation, a reassurance that despite the pain, you're still cherished and valued in his eyes. Even though he warned you this would happen and you disobeyed him, he still gives you praise.
He delivers the last smack with force, putting punctuation on the end of your punishment, hoping that you’ve learned your lesson. And by fuck you have.
Bringing you forward, he sits you up straight, "You've done so well," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead, "Now, let me take care of you."
Without hesitation, he takes his cock and slides himself inside your throbbing pussy, the sensation being both a culmination of need and a reminder of the pain you've endured. 
But as he begins to move within you, the rhythm of his thrusts slow and deliberate, you find yourself surrendering to the pleasure that washes over you. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming as you finally get what you've been craving for.
You moan softly, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.
But just as you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy, Jongseong pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for more. "Please," you whimper, your voice thick with need.
Jongseong's fingers find their way to your throbbing clit, flicking it with expert precision, "Not yet, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, "I want to make this last."
The sensation is electrifying, sending you reeling with desire as Jongseong teases you mercilessly. "Jongseong," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for more but he only chuckles, his touch driving you to the edge of sanity as he pushes you closer and closer to the brink.
And then, just when you think you can't take it any longer, he plunges back inside you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the edge of oblivion once more, "Yes!" you cry out, your body arching against his as pleasure consumes you.
Just as you're about to tip over the edge, Jongseong grips your throat gently, his touch both commanding and reassuring, posing no real threat, "You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he grabs your attention, "Yet, you've been so bad. Snooping around, looking at things you shouldn't, fucking things that aren't yours." There’s a sly grin on his face as he pulls out again, leaving your hole clenching around nothing, tears threatening to fall as your impending orgasm is ripped away from you again.
Jongseong continues to torment you, his words cutting through the haze of desire, you can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, "Was the last punishment enough for everything you've been up to?" he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of warning.
Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his stare, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. You know that you've pushed the boundaries, looking around the mansion even when you promised Sunghoon you wouldn’t, and indulged in pleasures that were not yours to claim.
With a shaky breath, you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, Jongseong," you murmur, your heart pounding in your chest, "I've learned my lesson."
“Oh, yeah?” he smirks, looking at the ceremonial bowl prettily decorated with your frilly underwear, “You sure?”
Your desperation mounts as you chant a series of "Yes's," your pleas echoing in the cold air of the room. Every fibre of your being screams for him, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.
And just when you think you can't bear the anticipation any longer, Jongseong plunges back into you, his gaze still fixated on your underwear. The intensity of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure running through your hot veins, yet beneath it all, a nagging curiosity tugs at the edges of your consciousness.
If you were in your right mind, you would question his fascination with the garments adorning the ceremonial bowl. As he picks up the frilly underwear with his middle finger, a spike of anticipation plagues you, mingling with the pulsating waves of pleasure emanating from his touch. And then, his voice cuts through the air, commanding and authoritative.
"Spit on them, Sweetheart," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Without hesitation, you comply, summoning every ounce of saliva you can muster before releasing it onto the delicate fabric. The sight of your saliva coating the underwear sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of arousal and confusion swirling within you.
But before you can question his motives, Jongseong's touch intensifies, driving you to the brink of ecstasy once more and rips it away as he tosses the underwear into the bowl once more. 
“No! Please, please, don’t stop fucking me, Jongseong. I promise I won’t snoop around or do anything without you telling me to.”
Your voice is desperate but you don’t care, if he denies you of your orgasm even just once more, you might die on this altar you’re perched on.
Jongseong's eyes light up with expectation, his hand tightening around your throat in a possessive hold while his other lingers over the ceremonial bowl, his muttering casting a dark spell in a foreign language.
Then suddenly, the crimson light floods the room, the same flash of red that almost blinded you. Terror holds you like a vice, pulling at your senses while flames lick hungrily in the air. Instinct urges you to go, to escape the flame that threatens to engulf you, but Jongseong's grip holds you tied to the altar.
There is no escape.
"Shhh, Princess it's okay, it won't hut you. I just need you to beg me," he says, his stare penetrating through the chaos with uncompromising focus, his left hand now sliding to tap on your clit with planned precision, sending waves of thrill surging through your body as he continues, lips hovering yours in a whisper, “Let Hell hear how much you need my cock.”
Hell.
The fire that is burning your skin beside you, that’s what you saw that day through the keyhole, you came face to face with the underworld. And now Jongseong’s opened it up beside you.
Summoning every ounce of courage you possess, you meet his gaze, your voice a trembling whisper as you utter the words he demands. "Please, Jongseong," you beg, the desperation in your tone echoing through the dimly lit chamber, "Fuck me, I need your cock so fucking bad."
His grasp on your throat tightens somewhat, a subtle acceptance of your surrender. With a hungry grin, he moves in closer, his breath hot on your ear, whispering pretty promises, and as his hand continues to work its magic on your clit,  you totally yield to him despite the fear rising inside you.
Kissing you, he fucks back into you, letting go of your throat and focusing all his attention on making you feel good, his hands finding home on your hips. 
The more you moan, the more intense the fire becomes, some of the flicker burning your arm. Jongseong notices your unease and focuses your eyes to look only at him, “It can’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them,” he whispers, his words causing more confusion but you’re already so far gone, lost in the feeling of his cock punching into your cervix that you can’t question him.
"You're doing fucking amazing, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "I want you to scream my name, let all those fucks know what a good girl you are, that you’ll never be like them.” His jab at those below you in the underworld makes your skin tingle.
With each thrust, pleasure courses through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending and leaving you breathless with ecstasy. And as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, you heed Jongseong's command, your screams echoing through the chamber as you give yourself over to him.
The flames in the bowl seem to dance to the rhythm of you and Jongseong’s passionate encounter, with each blow of his cock piercing your open, the more you cry out, and that excited the crimson glow.
As the intensity of your pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, every fibre of your being yearning for release. And with one final, desperate cry, you let go, surrendering yourself completely to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that wash over you.
Jongseong feels you coming undone and follows suit, his cock twitching inside you and hips pushing him as far as he can reach inside you. 
Once the fires begin to fade, leaving just embers blazing gently in the darkness, you feel yourself returning to reality, your senses gradually returning to you. You notice the air is thick with the odour of burnt cloth and the remains of the fire that previously raged around you.
With a shock, you look down and notice the charred remains of your underwear smouldering in the ceremonial bowl, the flames having eaten them in their fervour. Panic grabs you for a minute, but suddenly Jongseong's voice breaks through the quiet, his words a calming salve.
"I get why the others are obsessed with you, Y/N," he says, his tone filled with admiration and longing, "You belong here, I know you do."
Despite his assuring words and gentle touch as he slips out of you, his hands soothing where he has left marks, lingering questions gnaw at the edges of your mind. "Jongseong," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "what was that fire? And what did you mean by 'those fucks' down there? Was it hell?"
Jongseong’s expression softens, his fingers gently caressing your thighs, his actions were stupid and selfish in the name of his brothers and Soonyeol. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but he just had to show you off, let everyone know that you were his at least once, “Y/N," he says softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and concern, "there are some things you're better off not knowing. Trust me."
His words give you pause but you’re sick of the secrecy now, “Tell me, Jongseong. I will find out one way or another,” you press him, hoping your tone is half as commanding as he was, “Just tell me, what the fuck was that?”
“Go to Heeseung. He can explain it far better than I can and to be honest, I don’t want to see your face when you find out,” he says suddenly, his tone firm but gentle. Confusion flickers in your eyes, but before you can question him further, Jongseong presses a tender kiss to your forehead, “I will warn you though, Sweetheart, he won’t take kindly to being last.”
taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre
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jaylaxies · 2 months
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INTO YOU
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PAIRING: jay x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, slight gun play, mentions of smoking, usage of nicknames, fingering, pussy slapping, breeding, enemies to possible lovers.
SYNOPSIS: everyone knows that your families hate each other, being the biggest rivals in terms of business, however, you both don’t seem to care much about it.
WC: 1.9k
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, loves! happy jay birth <3 i had to write something for my man cmon, i hope you guys will like it :3 (not proofread) all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
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Blinding chandelier lights, fancy gowns, fake laughs paired with endless supply of sparkly champagne. Countless camera flashes, and an even faker demeanor as the guests pose and show their best game. 
It was yet another weekend; yet another charity ball organized by someone so filthy rich, who didn’t mean to do any charity, but rather, put up a façade well enough simply to expand their business connections. 
You watched it unfold from afar, like always, judging everyone as you swirled the drink in the delicate glass which rested on your fingertips, looking for something , or rather, someone to appear and get this boring excuse of an event going. 
Your family was close with the Kims, meaning, you’d probably, just probably spend your night with no drama at all, not expecting the Kims to invite the family which is your so-called rival. 
So you decided to mingle along, putting on your sweetest smile as you strolled through the big ball room, the slit in your dress allowing the cold air to grace your legs in the otherwise warm room, until it didn’t. 
The warmth of a hand encasing your wrist was enough for you to stop, the scent itself was a giveaway of the identity of the one who stopped you in the middle of the crowded floor, a sly smile draping your face with his action. 
“Getting into a party without an invitation is rude, don’t you think?” You asked. 
He scoffed, which came out as a breathy laugh, “that is exactly why I made sure that Mr. Kim would deliver the invitation personally to me,” he clicked his tongue. 
You rolled your eyes, turning your head to the side, looking right into his dark eyes before giving him a once over, almost in a condescending manner as if you were judging his entire existence. 
He had another one of his proud smirks plastered on his face, specs perched on his strong, pointy nose, his lips the perfect shade of pinkish-red, resonating perfectly with his melanin. Clad in a black tuxedo, he stood there as if he was the most important man in the room. 
Park Jongseong. 
“That desperate for what? A party?” You clicked your tongue as a challenge. 
His hand only shifted from your wrist to your waist, pulling you closer to his chest effortlessly, earning a gasp out of you, “for a party, yes. You know it, princess.” 
That’s exactly when you heard a louder gasp as you pushed him away. Your mother dearest had spotted his mother in the crowd, both of them coming along to meet right where you were standing. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Your mom asked, trying to put on a fake smile so as to not alarm others. 
“We were invited, of course,” the lady spoke up, a sick smile on her face. 
“Or yet, begged Mr. Kim to be invited here,” you smiled back, looking at Jay right after, who was only amused. 
But none of your family members were amused as they scowled, “stay the fuck away from her,” your mother said, pulling you back from Jay. 
“Ask her to stay away from my son,” Mrs. Park spat, pulling Jay back. 
“Who even wants to be with him?” You scrutinized him again with a bored expression. 
“You do, princess,” he winked, making you scoff in disbelief as he said it in front of your mother. 
“Shut up!” Your mother said, having had enough. 
You both had the corner of your lips upturned by the time your mothers pulled you away, far from each other, his eyes shining as you bit your lip. 
Your mom was frustrated and it showed, especially when she reached out to your father, filling him in with the events of what happened a few minutes back. 
However, you didn’t care, simply getting away from your family as you started roaming around yet again, patting your thigh gently to feel your gun in its holster—something you kept for safety. 
Everyone around you did. 
The party didn’t feel as boring anymore, not when you got out of the main ballroom, opening the door towards the secluded balcony; which you were sure would be empty. 
And you were right. It was small, secluded, facing the grand gardens of the villa, two big vintage lamps keeping the balcony well illuminated as you took out the cigarette you had hidden in your pocket along with your heart shaped lighter. 
A dress with pockets? A blessing from the lords. 
Holding the stick between your glossed up lips, you flicked the lighter, bringing it closer to the cigarette as it burned, your eyes closing the second you inhaled the smoke, using your middle and index finger to hold it away as you leaned against the cold marble wall.  
Park Jongseong. 
Your wrist still burned from when he gripped it, your waist still feeling the warmth of his hand as your silk down did nothing to hide your figure. You found yourself thinking about him again, the proximity was enough for his scent to invade your senses. 
Your body became hyper aware as you found yourself close to the similar scent again. 
“Smoking is bad for your health, princess,” he spoke, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. 
You smiled, not opening your eyes as you lifted your hand to take another puff of smoke, only for Jay to snatch it up, standing right in front of you, his free hand gripping your chin, your eyes opening to find his face inches away from you. 
“Getting too bold, are we now?” He asked. 
“Maybe,” you shrugged, challenging him. 
“Yeah. I don’t fuck you for one night and you turn into a fucking brat? Is that how you want it, princess? Want me to fuck some manners into you?” He came even closer, turning his head to take the cigarette between his lips, breathing the smoke in before he threw it away. 
Grabbing your chin harder, he tilted your head ever so slightly, causing you to gasp and open your mouth, dazed. 
He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled it all in, blowing it out of your nose while not breaking eye contact, another shiver running down your body as his fingertips traced your thigh, inching upwards to where your holster was. 
“Jay—” you breathed out, biting your bottom lip. 
“Shh, princess. Who would even want me, right? I’ll show you exactly how much you need me,” he chuckled, his lips touching your ear. 
He was quick to get your gun out, your mind too blank as you were sandwiched between him and the wall. The cold muzzle of the gun was pressed against your inner thigh now. 
“Please,” you begged. 
“Please what?” He urged you to speak up, the slit of your dress allowing him to graze it up your thigh and near your panties which were starting to get wet. 
“I want—” you started and he only pressed the gun right on your clothed cunt, your eyes closing again, your body felt as if it was on fire, a low whine leaving your mouth. 
“Say it, princess,” he groaned, his lips near the corner of your mouth. 
“I want you, I—I need you,” you managed to speak up, your whimpers were enough for his cock to start hardening, even more now that his body was pressed against your. 
He moved the gun in slow circles, your wetness dripping down on it till it reached his hands, as you held on to his arm for support, not being able to stand straight. 
“See? It wasn’t too hard, was it?” He asked, pressing the gun right where your hole was, stuffing it in slightly through your panties, your whines turning into moans as he grabbed your jaw again, “never forget that you belong to me,” was all he said before pulling you in a deep, rushed kiss. 
His free hand held on to your wrist, curling his fingers around it hard, his teeth nibbling on your lips before he spit in your mouth, not wasting a second before he shoved his tongue in your mouth. 
You could barely breathe, whimpering out his name desperately, trying to move your hips to get even a fraction of more friction from the gun. 
“That’s it baby, keep making those noises for me, yeah?” He spoke in between the kisses, finally having had enough of the gun as he kept it aside. 
It didn’t take him a second to push your panties to the side, covering his fingers in your dripping juices as you bit back a moan, which didn’t last for long as he stuffed you full of his fingers, making you lose control of the last bit of your sanity. 
Your wetness was enough for his fingers to slide in easily, which wasn’t enough for Jay as he curled them inside you, “tell me who you belong to, princess?” 
“You—you.” Your eyes watered as you moaned it out, and he slapped your cunt right that second, your eyes rolling back at the pain which felt more like pleasure than anything else, your breathing hitched as he did so again before he stuffed three of his fingers into you again, fucking you deeper than ever while kissing your neck, harsh enough for it to bruise later. 
He had been going at it for minutes and yet it felt like mere seconds before he took his fingers out, licking them and turning you around, your cheek resting on the cold wall. 
As much as he wanted to tear your dress off, he didn’t do that, and you could feel your tears streaming down your face, frustrated as he stopped right before you were about to cum, your cunt clenching around nothing as you heard him undo his belt. 
You knew his cock was thick and veiny, but it still shocked you, especially when he lined up his cock to your entrance, rubbing his tip, soaking it with your wetness which dripped down your thighs. You could barely breathe anymore, especially when his cock slid right in with how wet you were, reaching the deepest spots in you, his big hand spanking your ass right as he bottomed out. 
Broken moans were all that your mouth could let out by now, along with his name, which you kept on repeating like a broken record. 
His thrusts were brutal, almost as if he was using you like a doll and you were simply taking it like you were meant to. 
It felt too good. 
“Such a good girl, you’re taking me so well.”
The way your pussy sucked him in was driving Jay crazy as he groaned near your ear, biting your shoulder right after, his balls slamming against your ass and he didn’t bother slowing down, not when you were clenching around him like that. 
He held you up, knowing that your legs couldn’t keep you up anymore, not when your mind was blank and you were crying, begging for release. 
“Cum for me, princess,” he whispered, pinching your nipples as you let out another moan, which sounded like a scream with how frustrated you were, his thrusts getting faster and faster. 
“I’ll fill you up good, yeah? Gonna keep my cum in your cunt?” He asked, his voice even deeper as he hit your g-spot. 
You nodded, letting out a broken yes in reply, which was all it took for your eyes to close again, your legs shaking as Jay filled you up the very second you came all around his cock, creaming it beautifully in the essence of your unadulterated pleasure. 
“You were right,” you breathed out, holding on to him. 
“Yeah?” He asked. 
“Yeah. I need you, always.” 
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
TAGLIST: @jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @hyacandoit @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl @dopedels @kaykay11sworld
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godslino · 4 months
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PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.
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pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.
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chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡
a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3
“Dude, I think it’s clean.”
Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?
“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”
Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”
That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.
“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”
“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”
“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”
“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.
He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.
“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”
Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.
🏠
The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.
“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.
“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.
“You look hot.”
“I look hot.”
“She’s gonna say yes.”
“She’s gonna say yes.”
“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”
“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.
“Wait, what the f—”
“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”
Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.
“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”
Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”
The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.
“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.
“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.
Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.
He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.
With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.
“Min? What’d you say?”
Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.
By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.
“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.
A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”
Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.
But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.
“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.
Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”
“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”
“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.
“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.
Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.
“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”
Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”
“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.
It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.
He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”
“An arm and a leg?”
“What? No—I meant some water.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.
Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”
“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”
Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.
“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.
This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.
“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.
This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.
Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.
“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.
Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.
Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.
He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.
“Okay.”
“O…kay?”
“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”
The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.
Y/N [10:34am]
so
when do you want to do that date?
🏠
Are candles too much?
Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.
He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.
Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.
But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.
He needs to find another stain to scrub.
By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.
One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.
(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)
He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.
He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.
As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.
“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.
“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”
“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.
I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.
Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.
Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.
Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.
“How are your cats doing?”
Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”
“You’re cute.”
Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.
“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.
It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.
“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.
“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”
Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.
“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.
Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”
“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”
Oh.
Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?
You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.
Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.
“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.
His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.
“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”
Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.
“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.
“…Oh.”
Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.
He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.
It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!
At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.
Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.
“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”
Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”
“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”
The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.
“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”
You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.
“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.
Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”
You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.
“Min! Can we play Jenga?”
“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”
“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.
“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.
“We make up our own rules.”
The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.
Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.
Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”
He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.
Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.
“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”
He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.
“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”
“And if the tower falls…?”
“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”
Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”
Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.
“Deal.”
“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.
The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.
“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”
“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”
“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”
“One question at a time, princess.”
He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.
“What’s one thing you regret?”
“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”
Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?
“Why?” He chances.
“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.
You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”
Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.
“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”
Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.
You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”
Wait, what?
Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”
This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.
Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”
“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”
I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.
“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”
You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”
Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.
Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.
“Can I kiss you?”
Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”
“You didn’t pull out a piece.”
He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”
Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”
The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.
Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”
Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.
“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”
He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.
There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.
He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.
After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.
You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”
Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.
“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”
“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”
“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.
🏠
In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,
“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”
When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.
Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.
He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.
Yang Jeongin Fanclub
jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]
chan: AWWWWWWW
jiwoo: i’m gonna cry
changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?
hyunjin: FINALLY
hyunjin: wait
hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?
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[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]
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© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.
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scarletlizzard · 4 months
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Older
Music Series
Pairing: professor!Wanda x fem!Reader
Tags Minors DNI: older/younger (college), mommy kink, smut, choking, fingering & strap on use (R receiving), little overstimulation, praise or degradation kink? why not both, just shameless smut sorry
A/N: This is based on the song Older by Isabel LaRosa! This was requested. Thanks for reading, gladly appreciate any feedback. Thank you! 😊🩷
Masterlist
Wanda watches from her chair as you lean across the desk in front of her, your ass in the air with your skirt pulled down. Her hands reach out to caress your hips, touching the soft skin she can see. When her fingers reach your panties, she begins to pull them down, seeing a sticky string of wetness on your thigh.
"Please, Professor... I need you so bad," you moan and look back at her. Wanda stares in your eyes, her fingers dipping inside of you. You were soaking wet, and she knew it was all for her, your hot walls squeezing her fingers as she thrusted them inside you.
"Ohh, God! Miss Maximoff! " You moan again, Wanda feels herself becoming wetter as you push your hips back against her.
"Miss Maximoff..."
The image of you bent over her desk begins to fade.
"Miss Maximoff? " She hears your voice again.
Wanda blinks and clears her throat, her eyes meeting yours. Only this time, you're standing in front of her desk instead of lying across it. Students around the room were packing their bags and heading towards the door.
"Yes, Miss Y/L/N?" She asks and blinks a few more times, looking up from the papers she was supposed to be grading.
This had been happening more often the closer to the end of the semester came. Wanda was a professor at the university you attended. She had been a professor for a while now and absolutely loved her job, the life she was able to live with the money it paid, and being able to teach young minds. Every semester, she saw hundreds of faces, sometimes not being able to remember all of the names.
But then you walked in the first day of this spring semester with a cute smile on your face, eyes sparkling up at her as you greeted her.
Something about you and the way you acted towards her had Wanda questioning all of her morals.
To be fair, you couldn't help it... when you saw Wanda Maximoffs name on your schedule, you knew what you wanted. Your friends had told you all about her from when they took her class, and you'd seen her walking around campus before. She was exactly what you needed after failed relationship after relationship.
Someone older, someone as hot as she is.
So as the semester went on, you began wearing more revealing clothes, leaving very little to the imagination. At the end of every class, you would find yourself leaning over her desk, watching as Wanda struggled to keep eye contact with you.
"I don't think I really understood today's lesson. Do you think you could give me some extra help?" You would ask her, batting your eyelashes. Wanda swallowed hard and looked around the empty room, running a hand through her firey hair.
"My last class gets out at 3:30. You can meet me back here at 4." She said with a smile, muscle tensing in your grasp as you touched her arm.
"Thank you so much, Professor. .."
And that was how you started your extra 'tutoring' sessions with Wanda. Every day at 4, you would meet her in her class and shut the door behind you. You were a straight A student, clearly not needing any help, so the entire time was spent flirting and laughing, lots of lingering looks and touches.
As time went on, you couldn't help but stare at the ring on her finger. One afternoon, she caught you and gave a soft smile, finding herself needing to explain it to you. But as she opened her mouth, she realized you were her student and nothing more.
"It's complicated," she sighs, deciding not to share. You nod and rest your hand on top of hers, using your other hand to flip the pages of your book. She didn't move away.
'It's complicated' was good enough for you to want - no, need more from her.
So the next day you showed up to her classroom after hours, and when you shut the door, you strutted over to her where she sat at her desk.
"Hey Y/N, what -" Wanda said with an eyebrow raised. She watched as you moved between her and her desk, situating yourself between her legs.
"How long are we gonna play this game for?" You asked in a sultry voice, your hand playing with the top button of her blouse.
"Y/N... this is highly inappropriate. I-I don't know what you're talking about," she spoke sternly, but the look in her eyes and the way she didn't move away was all you needed to continue.
"I'm talking about where we pretend you don't want to fuck me." Your hands moved to the bottom of your skirt, fingers pulling the fabric slowly over the skin of your thighs. "Cmon, Wanda, I can be your little secret... I know you think about me. Do you imagine fucking me right here?" You asked and bite your lip, watching her hands ball into fists.
"I told you to call me Miss Maximoff." Wanda said, not denying a word you spoke.
You leaned forward, hands moved to rub her thighs as your lips touched her ear.
"I'd rather call you mommy..."
Wanda groaned at your words, and in a quick second, she had you bent over her desk, your hands behind your back as her hips pressed against your ass. A moan escaped your lips as your cheek hit the wooden surface. Your hips moved back against her, causing another low sound from Wandas throat.
Before she could do anything else, she quickly released you, panting from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Wanda runs a hand through her hair and straightens out your skirt, stepping away from you. You frown at her actions, hating the way her hands weren't on you anymore.
"You're my student, Y/N. I can't risk it," She said with a cold tone to you, eyes dark with lust.
"Only for a little longer!" You argued her, frowning and crossing your arms.
"You're too young," Wanda said softly and shook her head. Her fingers ran over her lips after she spoke.
You didn't have anything to say at that. You ran out of the room with tearful eyes and an ache in your stomach, not stopping when she called out your name.
That was two weeks ago, and you hadn't been back to her class after hours since. Though every morning Wanda greeted you with that charming fucking smile and a, "Good morning, Y/N," slipping off her tongue in the nicest voice.
Which brings you back to today, standing in front of her as she stared at you with those same dark eyes from two weeks ago. You raise an eyebrow at her demeanor.
"I just wanted to say thanks for all the..." You eye the students leaving the classroom. "...extra help this semester." You clear your throat and adjust the bag on your shoulder. Wanda nods slowly, the image of her fingers inside of you now stuck in her head.
"Of course, Miss Y/L/N. You're a very bright young lady, you know that? Wise beyond your years," Wanda says with a smile, and she truly meant it. You sigh softly with a nod and head towards the door as everyone else had left.
"I'd like to go over your final paper with you, if you don't mind?" You hear her say, and your heart begins to race.
"4?" You ask, turning your head to look at her. She nods.
***
You hear the wood creak as Wanda closes the door. The clicking of the lock makes you squeeze your thighs together as you sit in the chair she put in front of her desk.
You take in her appearance, a white blouse hugging her top and dark slacks on her lower half that she usually wore. She took her red hair out of the bun she had and let her hair fall down her shoulders. She always looks so effortlessly beautiful, always so perfect.
"Is something wrong with my paper?" You ask tentatively, watching her sit across the desk from you.
Wanda folds her hands together on the desk, studying your face carefully. "It was brilliant, Y/N. One of the best I received, actually," she chuckles a little. You blush at her praise and watch as her smile slides into a smirk.
"Thank you, Miss Maximoff." You swallow hard, feeling the tension between the two of you grow in the quiet room. You hear the clock on the wall behind Wanda ticking almost as loudly as your heart was beating in your ears.
"Since I'm no longer your teacher, you don't have to call me that," she says and leans back in her chair.
"Oh, so I can call you Wanda now?" You say playfully, taking in the way she slides the ring off her finger and puts it in a drawer of her desk.
"I'd rather you call me something else," Wanda says, and you can feel your body heat up, realizing she was quoting your last conversation.
You stand from your chair and walk around the desk, feeling her eyes on you as you do. "Something specific?" You tease, standing between her and her desk, once again.
"Are you going to make me ask?" She says and tilts her head, looking up to you. Her hands reach out to rest on your hips as she stands from the chair. It's your turn to look up to her.
"Maybe," you tease again with a shrug, a gasp leaving your mouth when she lifts you easily onto the desk.
Wanda puts herself between your legs, the space between the two of you filled with her presence. You could smell the expensive perfume she wore and the mint on her breath as she leaned in. She chuckles lowly at the goosebumps that arise on your arms.
"I'm not going to be the one begging," she whispers in your ear, a finger under your chin as she leans back and forces your head up.
The two of you lean in at the same time, lips moving in sync as your arms move to wrap around her. Her lips are softer than you could have ever imagined, and you could taste the mint you smelled earlier on her tongue as she explores your mouth.
"I've wanted to kiss you like this since the first time you walked in this room," Wanda groans into your mouth and you can only whine in reply as your hands move to unbutton her blouse.
Her hands make quick work of undoing your jeans, and you wish you hadn't stopped wearing skirts after she told you she couldn't be with you. But those thoughts are quickly replaced with watching Wanda slide your pants and panties down together.
Wanda can't help but moan quietly at the sight of your already wet thighs, sticky with your arousal just like in her dream. She looks in your eyes as two fingers press onto your clit, your mouth parting at the feeling.
"So wet for me already, and I haven't even done anything yet..." She sighs, rubbing circles as your hands grip desperately onto her now open shirt.
"Please, Miss Maximoff... I need you so bad," you moan her name. She almost thinks she's dreaming again until she slips her fingers inside of you, feeling your warm walls squeeze her fingers just as she thought they would. Even better than she imagined.
"What was that, baby?" Her fingers stay still inside of you, her eyes watching your red cheeks.
"Please... mommy?" You ask and bite your lip, her fingers suddenly moving inside of you was all you needed to know that was what she wanted to hear.
"You hear that? You hear how wet you are for me?" She asks, the filthy sounds of her fingers pumping in and out of you fill the empty room. "Fucking gorgeous sounds baby," Wanda groans at the feeling of you squeezing her fingers.
"Yes, mommy, I-I'm so wet for you! Your fingers feel so good," you moan and buck your hips pathetically against her hand.
"You feel so good clenching around my fingers, taking me so well, baby.. you gonna cum already huh?" Wanda says in a condescending tone with a smirk on her lips. Her fingers pick up pace, and you moan at the feeling of her knuckle deep inside of your pussy. The fingers you had imagined so many times inside of you, finally curling and drawing an orgasm out of you. Your body shakes as you come, stomach tightening as you soak her fingers.
"Fuck - Wanda!" You let out, feeling her fingers pump inside of you through your climax.
When she sees your body calm, Wanda removes her fingers, a whimper leaving your mouth as you clench around nothing. Your legs squeeze Wandas hips when she puts her fingers in front of your lips.
"Open up, sweetheart. Taste yourself, see how good mommy made you feel," she says and moves her other hand to cup under your chin.
You comply and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. When she puts her fingers in your mouth, you suck hard and look up at her with innocent eyes. Batting your eyelashes, you lick between her fingers, a low moan illiciting from the back of her throat.
Something seemed to snap inside of Wanda as you did that, and she quickly removed them and lifted your shirt over your head before taking a step back. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra only drove Wanda more crazy.
"Turn around, baby, and stick your ass up... let me see that pretty pussy," she says with dark eyes, her hands unzipping her slacks to pull out a red strap. Your eyes widen at the sight and she chuckles. "It's okay sweetheart, you can take it. We'll make it fit, won't we?" She asks and watches as you nod and turn around.
You bend over the desk, lifting your ass up and looking back at her, always so fucking innocently. Wanda hums at the sight and guides her strap up and down your wet pussy, sliding part of it in easily.
"I've dreamed of this," she says, and you didn't know she literally had.
You grip onto the wood in front of you, eyes squeezing closed as she pushes herself deeper inside of you. Her hands rub your back and hips soothingly.
"Mommy -fuck- want to take all of you," you whimper out.
"Oh don't worry, sweetheart, you will," she coos and fills you up completely, the fabric of her pants rubbing against your ass as you push back onto her hips.
Once she's bottomed out, she reaches forward to grab your hands, placing them behind your back and holding them there tightly with one hand. Again, all too familiar from your last meeting with her, only this time you've gotten your way. Her hips begin to move slowly at first, but once your whimpers turn into moans, she can no longer hold back.
"This is all you wanted, isn't it, sweetheart? To be fucked and filled with mommys cock like a good little slut," Wanda breathes out as she rails into you.
"Yes, mommy! I-" You stop mid sentence and half moan half whine as your cheek rubs against the wood with every thrust, her hips hitting yours roughly. You clench around the length of her cock, every word driving you closer ro another orgasm.
With one hand holding yours behind your back, the other smacks your ass sharply. "You can't even talk, can you baby? Is mommy fucking you dumb? What happened to my smart girl?" She chuckles, again in a condescending tone.
But she wasn't wrong. You were at the point of whining, and gasping breathes with each thrust feeling deeper than the next. All your teasing and taunting Wanda through the semester, and this was all it took to finally shut you up.
Not that either of you would complain.
The desk scratches against the floor as she pounds into you, the sounds of the wood creaking underneath the weight of you and her fucking into your wet pussy fill the room, accompanied by your whimpers and half sentences.
"Feels so -"
Another moan.
"So, so good, mommy!"
Another whimper.
Wandas hand palms your ass cheek roughly before you feel her nails digging into your hips. She feels more resistance as she pumps in and out of you, your walls clenching tightly.
"You're close, aren't you, sweetheart?" She groans at the whimper that leaves your mouth, and she pushes herself harder into you. For a second, you feel like the desk would break. "Alright baby, you better be a good girl and cum for mommy..." She says and the praise is all you need to release all over Wandas strap, your wetness spreading and dripping onto your thighs.
The scrapping of the desk stops as she slows her thrusts, her hand releasing your hands from her grip. The two of you sit there for a moment breathing heavily, and Wanda leans forward to kiss your cheek.
"Such a good girl for me, you took me so well, baby... that's it. Just take a minute." Her hands move to lift you up, not removing the cock from inside of you. She sits down in her chair and brings you with her, sitting you in her lap.
"I-I can't take anymore," you breathe out and shake your head, wincing at the feeling of how full she felt inside of you, the way she stretched you out completely.
"Shhh," Wanda coos in a soothing voice, placing sweet kisses on your back and shoulder. "Just one more baby, one more for mommy. There you go, baby just like that," she says, guiding you to move your hips.
Any pain had quickly turned to pleasure as you moved in her lap, your back pressing against her front as you leaned back. Her hips met yours with every bounce, and you tears threatened to escape with how good you felt.
"Such a good girl for mommy, aren't you?" She asks, you feel her left hand grope your breasts, fingers squeezing your nipple as her right hand moves up your side slowly, gripping your throat.
"Y-Yes, mommy, just for you. I'm -oh fuck- I'm so close," you whine as her fingers squeeze either side of your neck. You feel the air escape your throat just enough to feel your chest tighten.
Wanda moans at the feeling of your pulse quicken under her thumb. She was practically holding you up at this point. Your head falls back onto her shoulder, and her left hand moves down to rub your swollen clit. You let out a gasp at the pleasure of the overstimulation of it all.
"That's it, baby, just like that. You're doing so good for mommy," she praises in your ear, her lips moving against the skin just underneath. Wandas hips move more roughly up into you, her grip tightening around your throat.
Your hands move up to grip onto her arm, nails digging into the sleeves of her shirt as she forces another orgasm out of you.
"Mommy, I'm coming!" You whine as your body trembles against her, your legs failing you as she holds you up tightly in her lap.
"Fuck sweetheart, just-just hold on mommy's gonna cum too," Wanda groans against your neck and continues to pound into you from underneath you as she chases her own high. You were beyond overstimulated at this point, and the tears that threatened to fall from earlier flowed freely down your cheeks now.
Wandas thrusts begin to waver, and as she moans against your skin, her hand squeezes your throat again, the muscles in her arm tensing as she comes.
She removes her hand from your throat and clit and instead wraps her arms around you securely. You bury your face against her neck, feeling vulnerable and exposed as you sit naked in her lap. Wanda had taken any weight you carried off your shoulders, you had never felt more relaxed or well-fucked in your life.
You feel her lips kiss your cheek, and you respond by peppering her neck and jaw with kisses back.
"You okay, darling?" Wanda asks, her voice soft. You could see a bright smile on her face as you look up at her and nod. "Use your words."
"Yes... never felt better." You sigh contently and smile back at her, leaning over to kiss her on the lips.
Wanda helps you off of her strap, your legs weak underneath you as you reach for your shirt as she tucks the strap back into her pants. She reaches out to grab your panties and jeans.
"I don't want you to clean yourself off until you get home. Understand?" She asks with a smirk as she pulls your pants over your wet and sticky thighs. "I want you to think about me for the rest of the night," Wanda whispers and buttons your jeans, pulling up the zipper. You stand uncomfortably but nod, the thought and feeling only making your stomach burn all over again.
You look at Wanda and take in the sight of the smirk on her red, swollen lips, her red hair cascading down to lay on her breasts that peak through her open blouse. Her hands move to button up the shirt, but the sight of her empty ring finger reminds you of a certain fact.
"Will I see you again?" You ask, not being able to hide the disappointment on your face. The smile that takes over her face is enough to relax the features on your own.
"We've got all summer," she chuckles, her hands cupping your cheeks as she kisses your forehead.
Someone older was definitely what you needed.
And having Wanda for the summer? You would do everything prove to her that age was just a number, and figure out just how 'complicated' her marriage was. Because when she walked out of the classroom with you next to her, she left the ring in the drawer of the desk she had just fucked you on.
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wwilsonbarness · 11 months
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i can't do this anymore
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pairings: bucky barnes x y/n reader  
summary: You overhear Bucky’s conversation with your friends and assume the worst but you couldn’t have been more wrong. 
warnings: ANGSTTT, fluffy ending, mention of marriage, more angst “I’m sorry i can’t help it), miscommunication. 
word count: 3665
a/n: I’m in serious need of miscommunication fics (I'm a sucker for angst) so I’d be grateful for any recommendations!! Enjoy <3 
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
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“Buck? Can you pass my clothes?” You had just stepped out of the shower and realised you left your clothes in your room, but Bucky didn’t answer. “Buck?” He still didn’t answer so you wrapped your towel around you and headed through to see the room empty. You begin to get dressed before you hear Sam’s voice from the living room, he wasn’t supposed to be here for another half hour. Every week Bucky and Sam took it in turns to host dinner for the three of you and Sam’s girlfriend, Olivia. This week was yours and Bucky’s turn to host and you were super excited to serve your new recipe. Hearing the voices made you even more excited, but stressed as you still had some cooking to do before they were supposed to be here. You finish getting dressed and apply a little bit of makeup as quickly as you can. These dinners weren’t formal so it didn’t take long to get ready, they were mostly just so Sam and Bucky had some comfort after their missions, especially recently with them having to deal with John Walker. You take one last look in the mirror before heading through, until you hear something that stops you in your step.
“I mean I can’t say I’m surprised.. one look at you two and it’s obvious,” Sam tried to whisper but failed. “how are you gonna do it?”  Do what? You were confused what they were talking about, part of was tempted to interrupt but your curiosity took over. 
“I don’t know.. It’s just..” Bucky was stuttering which he only did when he was nervous, this really made you worry about what they were talking about. “It’s just she’s different from other girls, you know? And I know we haven’t been together that long but I can’t do it anymore. Do what anymore? “It’s not like I don’t love what we have but I just feel like I need more” More? You couldn’t help but overthink what you were hearing. They were talking about you, you weren't enough for him. I mean sure you’d thought that about yourself so many times but hearing it from the man you truly thought was the love of your life hurt. 
“I know what it’s like when you find the one, it’s the best feeling in the world.” You couldn’t see this but Sam had kissed Olivia’s head after his words. “This is gonna be good for you man, I’m happy for you.” 
You couldn’t bring yourself to hear anymore, the tears were already fighting their way out. You quietly walk back into your bedroom and try and calm down, you just had to get through tonight, just tonight and then you and Bucky could talk. You were at your happiest with Bucky, you thought Bucky was too but.. you didn’t even want to finish that thought. Bucky’s happiness was the most important thing to you, and if that meant he wasn’t with you anymore you would have to find a way to get through that. No matter how hard it would be for you, you just wanted him to be happy.
You took a few minutes to compose yourself,  your eyes were red and a little puffy but not enough for anyone to notice. You hoped anyway. This time when you left your bedroom you made sure to close the door loud enough so they could hear you coming and hopefully change the subject. 
“Hey guys, you’re early.” you said as you walked in, Sam and Olivia both stood up to give you a hug as you came in. 
“Yeah sorry we were just a couple blocks over and it didn’t make sense going all the way back home just to come out again,” Sam replied with a smile. “Buck said it was okay.” 
“Of course it is, you guys are always welcome, you know that!” You were surprisingly good at keeping how you really felt hidden, but with your words you couldn’t help but think you would lose Sam and Olivia as friends when Bucky ended things between you, they were technically Bucky’s friends first but you’d grown to see them as practically family as your relationship grew. You tried to push that thought away, you just had to get through tonight you kept repeating to yourself in your head. 
“You okay doll?” Bucky asks as he wraps his arms around you. You plaster on a smile hoping he wouldn’t sense anything being wrong. 
“Course! Just need to check on the food.” Normally Bucky’s touch helped you in situations like this but with what you heard his touch was only making you feel worse. You manage to untangle yourself from his arms and head to the kitchen. You notice that the ingredients and glasses were still laying out for the drinks you’d planned to make. “Do you guys want any drinks?” 
“Yes please!” Sam and Bucky replied at the same time. 
“I’ll help you.” you heard Olivia say through the wall. It only takes a couple seconds before she’s standing next to you in the kitchen. You and Olivia were like best friends, and she’s the reason you and Bucky were together. You had worked together for a few years, you drifted a little when she left that job but it only took one reunion dinner to get your friendship back to normal. That was 2 years ago, and from that night on she had insisted on setting up you and Bucky. It took a while for the meeting to actually happen but once it did you knew he was the one for you. Was. Not anymore. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Olivia asks quietly, she was aware of Bucky’s super soldier hearing and wanted to talk to you alone. 
You nodded and forced another smile. “Just a busy week, my boss is still being a dick.” 
“Ugh, you deserve so much better than having to work for that guy. He’s a creep.” She said at a normal volume now. “You should send Bucky after him, make him know he can’t treat you like that just cause he’s the boss.” She brings her hands up to put air quotes around ‘boss’, as he’s only technically the boss for the month while your real boss was on vacation. 
“I’ll manage.” You tried to play it off, you wouldn’t have Bucky there to help you soon, and you needed to stand up for yourself. 
“You know he would do anything for you.” 
“You think?” 
“Yep. I mean have you seen the way he looks at you?” 
“Hmm.” you mumbled. “Here,” You pass her two glasses with drinks in it. “take these and I’ll bring the other two once i’ve checked the food.” 
“Okay,” She starts to walk about but turns at the last minute, “It smells good by the way, I can’t wait.” 
“Thanks” you laughed as she walked away. She could tell there was something different with you tonight but she couldn’t figure out what was wrong, it felt like it was more than just your boss being a dick. 
You tried to take as long as you could checking the food without it being too long that someone would notice. After just under 10 minutes you walk through. “Dinner should only be a little longer.” You pass a glass to Bucky and keep one for yourself, normally you’d sit close to Bucky but tonight you kept your distance, opting for the armchair in the corner. Bucky thought this was weird but he kept it to himself. 
“So, what did I miss?” You hoped they would somehow be able to explain away what you heard but your hope didn’t last long as they started to talk about Sam’s plans to get a lizard. 
“Sam, we’re not getting a lizard,” Olivia replied, “if you insist on getting a pet why can’t it be a normal one like a cat or a dog.” This only reminded you of the plans you and Bucky made to adopt a cat, this was torture. Everything was reminding you of what you were about to lose. 
“I’ll look after it babe, you won’t even have to touch it.” Sam tried pleading. 
“And when you’re away on missions?” Olivia argued back playfully. 
“Okay, you got me.” You laughed a little at Sam releasing this was one battle he was going to lose. “What about you guys? You still planning on getting a cat?” 
Bucky looked at you as Sam asked the question, how were you supposed to answer this when you didn’t even know the answer anymore, luckily Bucky notices the panic on your face and jumps in to answer.” 
“Yeah man, we just have to find the time to get to the shelter.” 
“See,” He turns his head to his left, staring at his girl, “Y/n let’s Bucky get the pet he wants.” He was only teasing, he knew logically he couldn’t get a lizard but it was fun to pretend. 
“Lizards and cats are not the same thing.” 
“Y/n/n help me out here please” Sam pleads to you. 
“Sorry Sam, I’m on Olivia's side here.” You reply whilst laughing. 
“Traitor” he mumbles under his breath making everyone laugh. Bucky noticed it wasn’t your real laugh but he wasn’t sure why. Normally you loved bantering back and forth with them. 
You kept on chatting for 20 minutes before the oven timer went off, just in time as Bucky was about to tell an embarrassing story about you.
“Ah! Saved by the bell” you joked. 
“Don’t think I won’t forget to tell it after dinner!” Bucky shouts through, and you can’t help but laugh before thinking about it deeper. Was that one of the things he couldn’t do anymore, was he really embarrassed by you? 
You tried so hard to push those thoughts away and focus on getting through the dinner, you started plating up the food you were so excited about only an hour before. But you got lost in your thoughts again and picked up the hot tray with your bare hand, burning yourself in the process. “Shit.” The tray fell to the floor, luckily you had already plated everything and you were just moving it to the sink. Bucky rushes through and sees the tray on the ground and you gripping your hand towards your chest. 
“What happened?” He comes towards you but you walk back away from him. “What’s wrong?” You could see the worry in his eyes but all you could think about was his words earlier. I can't do it anymore. 
“I’m fine, Bucky.” You didn’t mean to but you snapped back at him. 
“You’re not fine.” he moves closer and tries to reach for your hand but you pull it closer to you, he notices and steps back. “Y/n?” You don’t say anything. “Look please just run your hand under some cold water at least, please?” 
“Can you just take the food through, I’ll be there in a minute.” You tried to hide the shakiness in your voice but he could hear it. This brought him back to the start of your relationship, you both struggled to open up to each other but he thought you had both gotten better at it, which is why he was extra worried.
He nodded, you hated yourself for being the reason he was sad, he didn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s okay doll, just know I’m here for you okay?” You nodded but kept your gaze to the floor. He first grabs the tray with his left hand and puts it in the sink then picks up the plates and brings them through, having to make two trips. He doesn’t want to leave you but he wants to give you the space you asked for. You run your hand under the cold tap for a couple of minutes before drying it off and making your way to the table. 
“You okay y/n?” Sam asks as you sit down next to Bucky, there were only 4 seats at the table so sitting next to him was your only option. Bucky turns to you, concern filling his eyes, he sends a smile your way and you try to send one back. He went to put his hand on your thigh but you see him stop himself and bring it back to his leg. 
“Yeah, all good, just burnt my finger on a tray. How’s the food?” 
“It’s amazing as always.” Olivia answers.
 “Thanks again for having us over.” Sam adds
“It’s a new recipe, and no need to thank me. You know you are both welcome here anytime.” You reply, happy that they like it. 
“Tastes great Doll.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, almost like he was scared to speak, he had a slight smile growing as you turned to him. 
“Thank you Bucky.” 
The rest of the night went just like that, the four of you spoke about planning a trip to New Orleans, you felt yourself get excited about it but then grounded yourself, reminding yourself that it probably wouldn’t go ahead. Well, it maybe would, you just wouldn’t be there. Sam and Olivia stayed for a couple more hours, they couldn’t stay as late as usual as Olivia had picked up an early shift at work the next day. When they left you saw Sam and Bucky whisper something to each other, but you were too far to hear anything. 
Now you and Bucky were alone, it had just been the two of you for 10 minutes and none of you had broken the silence until now. 
“Y/n?” Bucky asks quietly, testing the atmosphere. You took the shakiness in his voice as a sign he was angry, when it was really because he was worried about you. You don’t say anything but bring your head up so you could see him. “Can we talk?” Oh god. This was it. He was gonna do it right now. You weren’t ready, you never would be but you couldn’t do this right now. 
“Bucky, I’m really tired, could we talk in the morning?” You were desperately hoping he would say yes. 
“Yeah..” He stands up and walks towards the bathroom, stopping slightly at you but speeds up again after a moment. “I’m gonna quickly shower then I’ll come to bed.” 
“Okay.” Almost a whisper but he heard it. 
You go through to your room and get changed, ignoring the mess in the kitchen. That was something you’d worry about tomorrow. You crawled into bed, facing the wall and tried to force the sleep to take over. It doesn’t take long for Bucky to come in next to you, you feel him hesitate but he wraps his arms around you and brings his mouth around to kiss your forehead. “I love you.” 
You hoped he’d think you were sleeping, and not know you were pretending. You tried to find comfort in his touch but it only reminded you that this time tomorrow you probably wouldn’t have him wrapped around you. You could feel your eyes growing wetter as you thought about this but you forced yourself to stop before it turned into a full meltdown. That would for sure wake Bucky up. So you sat there in silence, sometimes you could hear a quiet mechanical murmur from Bucky’s arm, and sometimes the one big deep breath he takes every few minutes. By the time morning comes you only got about an hour of sleep, you were exhausted and anxious for what was going to happen today. 
“Doll?” he pauses for a minute waiting for an answer, “Are you up?” 
“Yeah, I'm up.” You don’t turn around to face him like you normally would, you keep your eyes on the wall. 
“I was thinking we could go to your favourite cafe today? The one with the-” You interrupt him and turn around to face him, sitting cross legged. 
“It’s okay Bucky.” He’s confused about what you mean so he stays quiet hoping you'll continue which you do. “I heard you talking with Sam and Olivia..” Bucky’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. 
“You heard us?” Shit. He wanted it to be a surprise. 
“I did. So can you just do it now? Get it over and done with, so we can both move on.”
“What? You want me to do it right now?” 
“Yes. Please, just do it.” You knew you were coming across harsh but you needed this torture to end. 
“Erm. Okay..”  He stood up out of bed and walked over to his dresser, and started to dig through one of his drawers. “This isn’t really how I pictured doing this and I thought you’d be more excited but..” Excited? Why would you be excited over losing him? Once he finds what he was looking for he walks back over and brings himself down to his knees beside the bed. 
“Bucky what-” 
“My turn to talk doll..” What the hell was happening. “Y/n, you have been the best thing in my life since the very first day I met you. It might sound cliche but you’re the missing piece I always thought I’d never find. I know this might seem fast but..” He pulls a small box from behind his back. Oh my god. He was proposing. What. You wanted to stop him but the words wouldn’t come out, it was like your mouth was glued shut. “.. I don’t think I could ever feel happier than I do right now with you but It would mean the absolute world to me if you-” 
“Wait!! Stop!” Bucky’s smile dropped. He’d been scared to ask you but he didnt think rejection was actually a possibility. 
“What?” You stood up and started pacing back and forth, panic setting in. 
“Oh my god Bucky. Stand up!” He stood up slowly and closed the ring box, the loud click making things even realer. “Bucky, what were you talking about with Sam and Olivia?” 
“I thought you heard me? I was telling them I wanted to propose, I want to spend the rest of my time with you. This definitely isn't how I wanted it to go. I’m sorry if I.. I thought you’d want this too.” 
“Oh my god Bucky. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry, I messed up.” You were beginning to lose control of your breathing and your eyes were starting to burn, you were still pacing back and forth. “I thought you wanted to end things, I thought you were done with us.”
“What?! Why did you think that?” He had never been so confused in his whole life. 
“You told them you wanted more, and.. that I wasn’t like other girls.. and..” The tears had escaped now and it was hard to talk properly. “and you said you couldn’t do this a-anymore.” 
“Oh baby.” Bucky walks over to you and pulls you gently to the bed, he sits next to you but keeps one of his arms wrapped around you. “I did say those things but not in the way you think. Did you listen to the rest of what we said?” You shook your head, which only made your growing headache worse. “When I said I wanted more I was talking about marrying you, in case you haven't figured that out by the -I don’t even know if i can call that a proposal- but doll, I want to marry you, I wanted to show you how much I love you and how serious I was about us.” He tries to turn himself slightly so he can see your face properly. 
“I was right when I said you aren’t like other girls, I don’t want you to be like anyone else. I want you to be you, my girl. The girl I fell in love with the first day I met you. I’ve been planning to propose for a while but I couldn’t keep it in any longer, that’s what I meant when I said I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t wait any longer to ask you. I love you so much, doll.” 
Oh god. You were so embarrassed. You had gotten everything so wrong. “Bucky, I'm so sorry. I didn’t, I don’t want things to end with us. I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s okay baby, really it’s okay. I just wished you’d talked to me about it. You can come to me about anything, you know what right?” 
“I do, I promise. I just panicked. I thought I was going to lose you.” Your breathing had started to slow down and you felt like you had control over it again.
“Nope. You’re never getting rid of me. I love you too much for that,” He brought his face down to yours and brushed your noses together before wrapping his arms tightly around you. “And I missed you way too much to ever let go of you again.” 
“I love you too, Buck, so much.. but you’re squeezing me.” For the first time since you heard their conversation you had a real smile on your face and you laughed at him holding you so tight. You were happy. Bucky was happy. 
“There’s the laugh I missed so much. Oh and,” he pulled away just for a second to look into your eyes, placing each of his hands on your shoulders and with a serious voice spoke again, “don’t for one second think that’s how my real proposal will go, I’m gonna make it special, just like you deserve.” he pulls you into his arms and lays you both down.
“I can’t wait, but before you do that..”
“Mhmm?”
“Can we go to the shelter today? I think it’s about time we got that cat.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me doll” 
Maybe it wasn’t healthy how much yours and Bucky’s happiness relied on each other but for you two it worked. Things were perfect. 
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yukinss · 5 months
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and they were roommates | mv1
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pairing: max verstappen x fem! reader summary: in which fans are in love with max’s roommate . . . but not as much as he loves her. note: hi hi! this is my first ever doing a smau so apologies for it being kinda short and a little rushed, i’m still getting the hang of it. truly never thought i would be making one of these instead of reading one, but here we are! feedback is always appreciated! <3
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ynusername
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ynusername life recently 𝜗𝜚
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user JIM AND SASS
user i’m so in love with you
maxverstappen1 your obsession with bows and ribbon has gotten out of hand
⤷ ynusername oh so you hate me
⤷ maxverstappen1 don’t put words in my mouth.
⤷ user she’s just a girl
⤷ ynusername exactly. thank you user <3
⤷ user HOLY SHIT SHE RESPONDED
charles_leclerc that’s a horrible angle of him
⤷ maxverstappen1 you’re a horrible angle
⤷ ynusername that doesn’t make any sense, maxie
⤷ charles_leclerc she got your ass
user i need to know where you got that bag
user oh to be yn
⤷ user of to be yn?? you mean oh to be max! imagine being able to see HER everyday 🥰
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 a photo dump or something like that
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ynusername or something like that 🤓☝️
⤷ maxverstappen1 i’m locking you out of the apartment
⤷ user IJBOL
user YN 🥰🥰🥰 … and he’s there too ig
user MOTHER
landonorris not the neon shoes …
⤷ maxverstappen1 get out of my mentions
⤷ ynusername i tried to warn him :/
redbulluk 💪💪
danielricciardo petition for yn to be featured on your account more often
⤷ ynusername ily danni 🫶
⤷ maxverstappen1 i’m working on it
⤷ user HELLO⁉️ WBYM YOURE WORKING ON IT⁉️
⤷ user more yn content coming soon!!!
⤷ user HE’S JUST LIKE IS FR
user yn being a miffy enjoyer means so much to me
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user second picture looks a little suspicious
ynusername danni when did you take that??
⤷ daniel3.jpg who’s danni??
⤷ ynusername 😐
maxverstappen1 can you send me that picture?
⤷ user ???
landonorris how was third wheeling??
⤷ ynusername LANDO
⤷ user WHAT
⤷ maxverstappen1 never telling you shit
⤷ user so it’s confirmed
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 i love my roommate more than you
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ynusername and i love my roommate <3
⤷ maxverstappen1 you have a crush on me for something??
⤷ ynusername you’re blocked
ynusername I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU
landonorris you’re welcome 😁
⤷ danielricciardo wdym?? i did all the work
⤷ maxverstappen1 neither of you did anything
victoriaverstappen so when are you guys visiting?
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maxverstappen1 i love you so much … even if you wake me up at ungodly hours of the night
⤷ ynusername you’re done.
charles_leclerc barf
landonorris mama y papa
danielricciardo no photo credit?
⤷ ynusername 👎
redbullracing mom in the paddock when??
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Forest Adventures: Exploring New Boundaries [M] — Kim Mingyu
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✧ Because who said camping couldn’t be fun?✧
A camping trip is the last thing on your mind when your husband suggests taking you away for the weekend. But when you suddenly find yourself standing in the middle of the forest, it becomes clear that this is Mingyu’s way of cashing in the bet you made. Just one problem – you absolutely hate camping. So, now it is up to Mingyu to show you just how much fun camping with him can be.
✧ Genre: domestic AU; camping AU; SMUT [18+], fluff, established relationship ♥ Pairing: chubby female!reader x husband!mingyu ✧ Word count: 22.7k+ ✦ Warnings: reader is plus-size with big boobs and a big ass!, ass-man!mingyu, sweet hubsand!mingyu, mention of bugs, reader is terrified of bugs/insects/spiders/etc. (i.e. entomophobia), mentions of alcohol/drinking — pls let me know if I missed any :) ✎ Notes: 1) nsfw warnings under the cut! 2) this is a continuation of my other fic, A (W)Hole New Experience, but you can read this as a stand-alone too :) 3) and yes, I totally wrote this because I hate camping myself and thought it would be fun to write about hehe – and because I love a good outdoor fic *cough ‘F*ck My Thighs’* 4) also, the itinerary is at the end of the fic in case you're curious!! ♕ Shout out: special thanks to bestie @forsythe-lll for always supporting my crazy ideas!! and ofc @wonustars for being my nr1 hype-woman for this fic 🤭 also thank you to @gyuswhore and @cheolism for beta-reading this thing for me ^^ and lastly, thank you to the members of @svthub for helping me brainstorm some ideas for this fic 💜 couldn’t have done it without all of these wonderful people!
♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡
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nsfw warnings: big dick!mingyu, soft dom!mingyu, outdoor/public sex, mentions of anal, skinny dipping, spanking, dick sucking, fingering, raw sex (reader is on birth control), squirting, overstimulation, light choking, light food play (pls let me know if I missed any!)
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“Let’s have a ramyeon cook-off.”
The words had left your mouth before you could even properly think it through – courtesy of host Yumi and her endless wine refills that you couldn’t seem to escape from. Not that you wanted to, though. It was the expensive kind of wine that left you with a relaxed and cozy feeling after every sip, something you welcomed after a rather stressful and hectic workweek. However, it also made you a little more impulsive than you normally were, hence your response to your husband’s claim that his ramyeon was the best.
“A cook-off? With me? Right now?” Mingyu asked with a raise of his brow, almost as if he was trying to assess whether you’d been serious.
You grinned and leaned back in your seat, fully aware that everyone in the room had stopped whatever they were doing to hear what you had to say.
“Yes. Unless you’re scared to lose.”
“Scared? No way.” Your husband snorted before a mischievous look took over his features. “Bring it on, baby.”
For a split second, the rational voice in the back of your mind tried to remind you of who you were going up against – aka your husband, the person who cooked most of your meals, the person whose cooking skills were out of this world.
The sudden realization caused a tinge of regret to wash over you, but it was already too late to back out.Because Jeonghan, who’d watched the entire thing unfold, saw his chance and took it before you could try to play it off as a joke.
“I hear you two are in need of a kitchen.”
The older man was quick to jump up from his seat to get himself involved in the matter. It was no surprise, really. He loved chaos, drama, and competitions, so a cook-off starring two of his good friends was a perfect combination of everything.
Mingyu nodded, the corners of his mouth slowly forming into a cocky grin that was meant for you. “You heard it right, Hyung. My wife here thinks she can make better ramyeon than me.”
“I don’t only think I can, I know I can,” you retorted as you imagined how satisfying it would be to wipe that damn smirk off his face.
“Ooh damn, Mingyu. You better watch your back,” Sora giggled from beside you, which earned her a playful glare from the man in question.
“I’m not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when my wife is the one challenging me,” he stated, after which he threw a wink in your direction.
The audacity of this man.
Jeonghan smiled triumphantly and clapped his hands. “Great! Then that’s settled. We’ll have a cook-off.”
Yumi, who was just as excited about the prospect of an impromptu contest as her husband, practically sprinted out of the room while yelling, “I’ll go prepare the stuff!”
No one in the room was even slightly fazed by the woman’s sudden outburst. If you’d learned anything about Yumi, it was that she tended to get super excited about things, which – in combination with a little bit of alcohol – usually resulted in her yelling and jumping all over the place. You were just glad Seokmin and Soonyoung weren’t here to egg her on, because you couldn’t afford any distractions right now.
You needed to win this thing and prove your husband wrong once and for all.
“What about the stakes?”
Everyone turned their attention to Wonwoo, who’d been observing the whole thing quietly while sipping his beer. The man had a point though. What was a contest without a reward?
“Right! That’s the best part,” Sora agreed with her husband.
“Good point. Can’t forget about that now, can we?” Jeonghan teased as he turned back to you and Mingyu, a devilish smirk replacing the grin that had been there just a few seconds ago.
“Well? What’s it going to be?” Sora asked impatiently when neither you nor Mingyu spoke up.
“Yeah, baby. What’s it going to be?” your husband taunted with a raise of his brows.
“The loser grants the winner a wish.”
That pulled a chuckle from Mingyu, who was sitting across from you.
“You sure about that? You know you’re gonna lose right? Might want to choose carefully.”
It took everything in you to remain calm and keep a straight face upon hearing those words, but you managed to catch yourself just in time. The last thing you wanted to do was give Mingyu the satisfaction of seeing the effect his words had on you. He was not getting you today.
Instead, you forced a sweet, narrow-eyed smile as you spoke. “Has no one ever told you that bragging results in bad luck? Might want to think twice before you start acting all cocky.”
“Now where’s the fun in that? Besides, you’re hot when you get all worked up.” Mingyu smirked as he leaned closer, your faces only inches apart.
“You’re insufferable, Kim Mingyu!” you huffed before starting to rise from your seat to avoid his heated gaze. Unfortunately, he anticipated your move and pulled you down into his lap before you could voice your disapproval.
“Am I? You screaming my name every night seems to imply something else though,” he mumbled into your ear as he snaked his arms around your waist.
“Yah!” you hissed, feeling both embarrassed and frustrated with Mingyu for revealing such an intimate detail in a room full of your close friends. However, you couldn’t stop your thighs from clenching ever so slightly, something which your ever-observant husband didn’t fail to miss.
“What was that, baby?” he mused, lowering one of his hands to teasingly squeeze the flesh of your denim-clad thigh with his large hand.
Just as you were about to open your mouth, the feeling of something hitting the side of your head interrupted your train of thought.
“Hyung!”
“Ow!” you exclaimed, turning your head to see Jeonghan holding a rolled-up newspaper in his right hand, a murderous expression adorning his face.
“Serves you right! No one wants to see you two tango on my couch!”
“It’s just a little warm-up,” Mingyu grumbled as he let you get up. He followed shortly after.
Sora, who was watching the scene with an amused expression, met your gaze and gave you a thumbs up – her way of letting you know that she’d definitely witnessed the little moment between you and your husband. You just shook your head at her, already knowing that you’d be hearing about it during your next girl’s night.
“Are we doing this thing or not?” Jeonghan’s voice sounded, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. The cook-off.
“Yes,” you and Mingyu responded in unison.
“Then shake on it and let’s go. We don’t have all night and I’m hungry.” Jeonghan looked at the two of you expectantly.
“Mrs. Kim.” Your husband held out his hand.
“Mr. Kim,” you responded, your eyes locking with his dark brown ones as you shook his hand to seal the deal.
With all the formalities finally out of the way, Jeonghan practically pushed the two of you toward the Yoon family’s spacious kitchen, where Yumi had set up a variety of ingredients, pots, pans, and kitchen utensils for you to use.
As the remaining part of your friends piled into the space to watch the spectacle, Mingyu took that opportunity to steal your attention.
“You really think you can beat me, baby?”
You rolled your eyes in response. “Not this again. I can and I will, Gyu.”
“Getting a little too confident, I see,” he snickered, which earned him a glare in return.
“Look who’s talking, Mr. Bragger.”
“At least I brag and win.”
“You w—”
“Alright! You ready?” Jeonghan interrupted your little squabble before it could take off, and it was probably for the best. You knew your husband well enough to know that this was his way of trying to rile you up in the hope you’d get distracted and start making mistakes. It might have worked before, but you weren’t about to let him get his way today.
“Let’s do this,” you said and gave your husband one final look before taking your place behind the enormous kitchen island.
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Thirty minutes later you watched anxiously as Jeonghan collected everyone’s votes.
You’d opted for a rabokki-style dish, which was a mix of Shin ramyun noodles with rice cakes coated in a sweet and spicy sauce, complemented with sausages, fishcakes, and mozzarella cheese to top it off. Mingyu, on the contrary, had gone for a much more simplistic version – Shin ramyun, an egg, mozzarella cheese on top, and some toasted seaweed on the side.
Initially, you’d wanted to go for something basic as well, but then you’d thought about it and decided that with competition as tough as Mingyu, you needed to come up with something fancy if you wanted to have a chance at winning this. But now, as you watched Jeonghan collect the last vote – Wonwoo’s to be precise – you suddenly weren’t so sure if you’d made the right choice.
“Let’s announce the winner!” Yumi jumped excitedly before trying to pull the glass jar from her husband’s hands.
“Careful, honey,” Jeonghan scolded playfully, though he did nothing to stop her from taking the jar.
In the meantime, Mingyu had latched himself onto your side, one of his hands going to your ass as usual.
“Get ready to lose, baby,” he whispered before gently patting your soft buttock.
Your jaw clenched at his taunt, already feeling more than a little annoyed with the man’s overconfidence – it was a trait in your husband you both loved and hated at the same time. At the moment, however, it definitely made him look like a cocky little shit.
“Don’t test me, Gyu.”
You knew he was dying to say something else to get on your nerves, but fortunately, Yumi had just pulled the first piece of paper to call out the first vote.
“Attention everyone! So, the first vote I have here goes to…” te both of you for a second. “Mingyu!”
Your mood instantly soured at that revelation. Of course the first vote had to go to him.
“What was that again, baby?” Your husband squeezed your ass gently, but you refused to look at him because you just knew that he had a big fat smirk on that pretty face of his.
Three more votes to go. You still have a chance, Y/N.
Yumi thrust the glass jar back into Jeonghan’s hands, deciding that it was more convenient to have him hold it while she pulled out the next piece of paper.
“Aaand vote number two goes to…” She smiled before shifting her eyes in your direction, “Y/N!”
“Ha!” you exclaimed, turning your head just in time to spot the look of surprise on Mingyu’s face. “Not so cocky now, huh?”
“That’s just one vote,” he grumbled. It might have been onhe vote, but it was enough to give you a little bit of hope again.
“Next vote,” Yumi announced as she unfolded the third piece of paper. “Goes to… Mingyu!” She shot an apologetic look in your direction.
“Told you,” your husband teased.
You crossed your arms as a frown took over your face. “We could still tie.”
At least, you liked to believe so.
“Alright!” You watched as Yumi took out the final piece of paper and opened it. “The last vote goes to… Mingyu!”
As soon as your husband’s name had left her mouth, Wonwoo and Jeonghan started cheering for their friend, walking up to him to congratulate him while you could only sigh in frustration. Mingyu had won fair and square – you knew that – but you couldn’t help but let that fact make you feel even more disappointed in yourself for losing the bet.
You’d been so confident that today was going to be the day you beat your cocky husband at his own game. But now you just felt stupid for assuming that victory would be yours for once.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I tried.” Yumi’s lips were formed into a pout as she approached you.
You shook your head, offering her a small smile. “It’s not your fault, Yumi. Thanks for having my back as always though.”
“Not that it makes anything better, but I did actually prefer your dish over Mingyu’s. Unlike a certain someone…” Her eyes drifted in Sora’s direction. Said woman was trying to sneak out of the kitchen in the hope no one would notice, but you and Yumi had caught her right in the act.
“Sora, you traitor!” you called, which made her freeze for a second before she hit you with the puppy face.
“I’m sorry, Y/N! I just wanted to be honest. Please don’t be mad!” she begged.
“Yeah, don’t be so hard on her, baby,” your husband’s voice sounded in your ear, after which you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind. “I’m just that good.”
Your jaw clenched at his taunt. “How good can it actually be, though? You just made some simple ass ramyeon.”
“Why don’t you have some and tell me before you start doubting me?” Mingyu chuckled and squeezed your side.
“Fine, let’s have it,” you grumbled and leaned forward to pull the pan containing Mingyu’s ramyeon closer so you could have a proper taste. Yumi handed you a pair of chopsticks, which you used to shove a good amount of noodles into your mouth.
“Well?” Jeonghan asked from beside you, which made you realize that everyone had quieted down to listen to your verdict. “Good enough for you to accept your defeat?”
“It’s… decent,” you mumbled after swallowing the bite of food. That was definitely a lie. It was freaking delicious, but you weren’t about to say that out loud and feed your husband’s already huge ego even further.
“Well, it just so happens that the majority of our friends preferred my decent ramyeon over yours, which means you owe me a wish, baby,” Mingyu said before he kissed your cheek.
“Don’t remind me,” you groaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “Just tell me what you want already.”
“I’ll keep it a surprise for now. You’ll know when you need to know.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” you responded, twisting your head to look at him.
Mingyu just grinned, his eyes sparkling with joy as he shrugged. “Hmm, sucks to be you then.”
“I guess it does,” you sighed, wondering just how bad it could actually be.
Little did you know that in only a few weeks’ time, you’d find out just how horrible of a punishment your husband had in store for you.
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DAY 1
This was bad. Really bad.
You were pretty sure that you were experiencing a real-life nightmare because you were definitely not standing in this huge ass forest right now – although the sight of your husband’s shit-eating grin told you something completely different, something you’d not at all been prepared for.
Fuck.
“Kim Mingyu, this better be a damn joke or I swear you will be sleeping on the couch for a week.”
“What happened to being excited to go on a trip with me?!” your husband exclaimed with wide eyes, clearly surprised by your sudden threat.
“Exactly! A trip. One where we rent a hotel room or an apartment with a comfy bed and a proper bathroom. Not one where we sleep on the goddamn forest floor!” you nearly cried as your eyes scanned the trees and bushes surrounding the two of you.
The light rustling of leaves here and there sent shivers up your spine as you imagined what kind of terrifying creatures could be hiding in there. You’d never been a fan of bugs, so being here, in the middle of the forest where they were no doubt crawling all over the place, definitely didn’t do your sanity any good.
Mingyu was very much aware of your little phobia. At least, until this moment that’s what you thought. Either he had mysteriously forgotten about it, or this was his way of pulling a prank just to get a reaction out of you. You doubted it was the first option, so you settled on the second one. Because you didn’t want to believe that your sweet husband, the one who always wanted nothing but the best for you, was really this cruel to put you through a full weekend of camping when he was well aware that this was the last thing you wanted to do.
But, upon hearing the words that left his mouth in the next moment, that little bit of hope you had started to crumble right in front of your eyes.
“You lost the bet, baby. And if I recall correctly, we decided that the loser will have to agree with whatever the winner wants,” your husband pointed out as he wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulder.
Your body automatically stilled in response, everything suddenly falling into place. So that’s what this was all about.
That stupid ramyeon contest you had suggested.
Looking back on it now, you just wanted to laugh at yourself for even thinking that you could have stood a chance against the Kim Mingyu. He was the better cook out of the two of you after all – something you should have known with you being his wife – so why did you have to open your big mouth and shoot yourself in the foot with that bet?
You definitely blamed it on the liquid courage of that night. There was just no way you would have suggested such a thing if you had been sober. Sober you knew damn well that no one had ever managed to beat your husband in a cook-off. Those who had tried had failed miserably, so what the hell had possessed you that night? The whole thing had literally been doomed from the start.
It had been nothing but a moment of weakness, and right now, especially right now, you regretted it more than ever.
If you were honest, you had fully expected him to use his win as an opportunity to get you to do a striptease for him – a thing he had been begging for for a few weeks now. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to – because you were more than happy to do it – but you had wanted to save it for a special occasion. Though at this moment, you weren’t even sure whether he was ever going to receive that striptease.Because this? This certainly wasn’t it.
To say that you had been blindsided by his idea of a ‘fun trip’ was still putting it mildly. And the worst part was that you didn’t even have a say in the matter – a deal was a deal and that was that. Besides, you were pretty sure that your husband would never let you live it down if you tried to get out of it. You hadn’t forgotten about that time he made you eat a plate of escargots, all because you had refused to do a week of morning runs with him in the aftermath of another bet you’d lost – you really needed to stop making bets with your husband.
That memory alone was enough to make you think twice about stealing the keys and making a run for the car. Still, that didn’t mean that you couldn’t at least try to convince your husband that it wasn’t too late to change your plans. Yes, that’s how desperate you were.
“I’m aware of the rules we established, but… but you know I hate camping, especially the bugs that come with it. Why would you do this to me? Just why, Mingyu?” you whined, a small pout adorning your lips as you looked at the man beside you.
“Trust me, baby. I’m gonna make it worth your while,” he assured you before gently tapping at your pouty bottom lip. He thought you looked absolutely adorable trying to get out of it. And although he hated to see you upset, he couldn’t help but enjoy it a little bit… maybe a little too much.
“You can make it worth my while by taking me to a nice hotel. Doesn’t that sound much better than this, hmm?”
Mingyu chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, “You’re not getting out of this,” he whispered, which was followed by a soft whine of defeat from your side. “You gotta try to explore new things. And what better way to do that with me, your husband?”
“I’m pretty open to anything but this. Do you seriously want me to sleep in a tent with you while we’re in the middle of nowhere? There are bugs everywhere! And what about snakes? Have you even thought of that?”
Mingyu playfully rolled his eyes at your dramatic display. “You haven’t even tried, baby,” he stated before his lips morphed into a devious smirk. “Besides, just a few weeks ago you thought you weren’t into anal either, but look at you now. You can’t get enough of my cock in your ass.” He winked and lowered his arms to grab two handfuls of your plump ass.
“Shut up, Gyu,” you whined, trying to wiggle out of his grip. Despite the slim chance of you encountering another human being in the middle of the forest, you still felt at least a little embarrassed about your husband’s sudden show of affection. “That’s totally different and you know it.”
“Is it though? It’s just something unfamiliar right now. But who knows? You might like it more than you think.”
“I hate you,” you groaned, leaning your forehead against his chest as you thought it over. Technically he was right. You had never even given it a shot, so why was it so hard to just suck it up for a few days?
Mingyu laughed and gently put one of his hands underneath your chin to get you to look at him. “No, you don’t. You love me.”
“After today, I’m not so sure anymore,” you mumbled, your lips shaping into yet another dramatic pout.
“At least promise me you’ll try. Please, baby. You owe me that much at least.”
You sighed deeply, still not entirely having convinced yourself. “I don’t know, Gyu.”
“I could always make you another plate of snails,” he teased, pinching your squishy cheeks in between his fingers.
Your eyes widened at the threat, your body tensing up at the same time as you immediately recalled the awful taste of the dish he’d prepared.
“Oh, hell no!” There was no way you were going to relive that shit again.
“Just kidding,” your husband grinned, leaning in to softly peck your lips. “I was actually going to suggest taking you on a proper trip next month.”
That immediately got your attention, the threat he’d just made already long forgotten at the prospect of a more ‘luxurious’ trip in the near future.
“You would?” Mingyu hummed in response, his dark brown orbs sparkling as he looked at you with adoration. “Ugh, I guess I can’t say no to that. It’s not like you’re going to let me leave anyway,” you finally sighed, accepting defeat. The only way you were going to get through this was to accept your fate and try to enjoy it.
“You know me so well, baby.” Your husband smirked triumphantly.
“But if I die out here, I swear to god I will haunt you for the rest of your life,” you warned, jabbing your index finger into his toned chest.
He was quick to catch your finger and lifted it to place a gentle kiss on it. “As if I would ever let anything happen to my queen.”
“You better keep that promise, Kim Mingyu.”
“Trust me, baby. You won’t regret this.”
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With your camping adventure now officially confirmed, Mingyu was quick to drag you back to the car, where he opened the trunk to reveal all the stuff he’d been hiding from you up till now. No wonder he’d told you to take a long nap while he went to load up the car.
“So, you really thought of everything, didn’t you?” you mused as your eyes scanned the equipment. Despite everything having been stacked meticulously, you could spot the outlines of a tent, as well as some camping chairs, two sleeping bags, and a crate full of what you guessed were snacks at the top of the huge stack.
“Yep,” Mingyu smirked as he started unloading the overfull car.
“Can’t believe I didn’t see it coming,” you muttered, watching in amazement as your husband pulled various bags, coolers, and boxes out of your shared SUV. “How did you even manage to keep this all a secret?”
“Believe me, it wasn’t easy with you being around the whole time. But then again, I’m just that good, baby,” he said and winked at you before grabbing ahold of another box.
“As if,” you huffed while stepping forward to grab a few bags of your own. If you were going to be here, you might as well make yourself useful while you’re at it. Besides, the sooner you got done unpacking, the sooner you could relax – although you wondered how ‘relaxing’ it could be with all those bugs lurking in the shadows.
Still, you tried to shake off those thoughts as you and Mingyu moved all the stuff to your designated camping spot to set up what would be your camp for the next few days.
It turned out that unpacking wasn’t half as bad as you’d expected it to be. In fact, you found yourself rather enjoying the whole process as time flew by. It was exhausting, sure, but getting to spend quality time with your husband after a few busy weeks made you happy and excited. Plus, with Mingyu constantly cracking jokes, and his cute habit of checking up on you whenever you were doing something out of your comfort zone, it wasn’t very hard to momentarily forget about all the downsides of camping.
After completing about ninety-five percent of the work, Mingyu practically ordered you to make yourself comfortable in one of the large camping chairs – he didn’t have to tell you twice – which is where you were currently sitting with your feet tucked underneath you, happily munching away on some spicy rice cracker snacks while you watched your husband make some final adjustments to the huge tent the two of you had set up together.
You had to give it to him. Despite it being a simple camping trip, Mingyu had made sure that everything was top quality, the tent in particular. It was a beige, pentagon-shaped family tent with a double-sided wall, five screened windows, and a transparent roof, which Mingyu said would be perfect for stargazing – you couldn’t help but agree.
The interior was just as nice as the exterior. It was bright and open – courtesy of the many windows – and definitely large enough to fit another three or four people if necessary. But with it only being you and Mingyu, there was still lots of space left after setting up your two-person sleeping mat with matching sleeping bags and pillows.
The remaining space had been divided into a storage section, containing your luggage, the coolers, and other kitchen and camping supplies, and a ‘relaxation corner’ as your husband called it, which consisted of a small side table and two small but comfortable-looking inflatable bean bags. And if that wasn’t enough, Mingyu had also put up several sets of fairy lights, both in and around the tent, in an attempt to make the entire space feel homier and less tent-looking.
All in all, you weren’t mad at the final result. You had pretty much everything you needed to get you through this weekend.
At least, that was until a sudden thought occurred to you.
“Wait a second,” you started, which immediately gained your husband’s attention, “how could you let me pack my things without giving me a single clue? I didn’t prepare for this camping trip at all! I’m gonna be fucking freezing, Gyu,” you whined, your snack now completely forgotten as you thought about the clothes (or lack thereof) you’d packed in your purple carryon. “You could have at least packed me an extra bag or something.”
“You mean this bag?” Mingyu asked, holding up a large backpack which no doubt contained whatever you hadn’t accounted for.
“I— what? You packed a bag?”
Your husband grinned as he made his way over to where you were sitting. “You didn’t think I’d let you freeze to death, right?”
“Well, no but…”
“I got you, baby,” Mingyu said and crouched down in front of you, placing his hands on the tops of your thighs. “Stop worrying and let me take care of you this weekend, hmm?”
You nodded slowly, covering his hands with your own. “Alright, I guess I can do that.”
“Good.” He smiled and leaned forward to kiss you softly. “Now, how about some dinner?”
“Yes! I’m craving a nice warm meal,” you said and allowed Mingyu to pull you up from the chair. “Oh, and I need to pee. Please tell me we at least have a decent bathroom nearby.”
Please, please, please, don’t tell me I have to—
“Yeah, about that,” your husband began, his expression suddenly turning serious and his eyes avoiding yours at all cost, “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to find a bush somewhere, baby.”
He better be lying.
“Are you serious?” you asked nervously, already feeling your heartbeat increase when your husband didn’t say anything. “Gyu!”
At your desperate cry, his serious façade vanished, now replaced by a devilish grin. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Gosh, I should have taken a picture of your face.”
“Mean, mean, mean,” you pouted, glaring at the man in front of you while you poked his sides. “Scaring your wife like that! Just show me where I can goddamn pee.”
“Alright, alright!” he giggled, grabbing ahold of your wrists to stop your tickle attack. “I’ll show you.” He then left your side for a moment to grab a roll of toilet paper before reaching for you once again.
“Come on.”
He ended up guiding you down the path and towards a little house that looked decent enough in your eyes. There were two bathroom stalls, two shower stalls, a couple of sinks, and a big mirror, all of which seemed to be rather clean. At least your husband had made sure to give you that, because you were pretty sure you’d rather pee or shit your pants than crouch down behind a bush to do your business.
“The place is cleaned at least once a week, and we also seem to be the only ones using it this weekend, so we should be good. What do you think?” Mingyu asked, looking at you expectantly.
You nodded and turned to him when you were finished with your inspection. “It’s… good.”
“That’s what I thought.” He smiled and pulled you into his side to kiss your temple. “You think you can handle it from here? I’ll go start on the food.”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
As your husband took his leave, you carefully opened one of the stalls, half-expecting a spider or insect to jump at you. But to your surprise – and much to your relief – the stall was completely void of them, which allowed you to go about your business with some peace of mind.
The absence of creepy crawlers definitely helped you feel slightly more at ease, and for just a moment, you thought that spending a weekend in nature maybe didn’t have to be so bad after all. But that thought was instantly abandoned when a huge spider made its presence known just as you were about to reach for a paper towel to dry your hands.
The scream that left your body could no doubt be heard by anyone in a one-mile radius, but that was the last thing on your mind at that moment. You needed to get the hell out. The paper towel was long forgotten as you made a beeline for the door, running back to the camp as fast as your legs could carry you, all while screaming out your husband’s name.
Said man was immediately on high alert at the sound of your voice echoing through the trees. Add in the look of terror on your face and he was about ready to fight whoever or whatever had caused you to react like this.
“What’s wrong? Talk to me, baby,” Mingyu urged as you ran into his arms, completely out of breath.
“I-In the bathroom… spider… huge,” you panted, not being able to stop a shiver from running through your body at the thought of that thing.
“Wait what? So you’re not hurt?” Mingyu asked, moving you back a little so that he could examine you for injuries.
“No! But I’m traumatized!” you exclaimed with a frantic shake of your head. “There’s no way I’m going back there by myself. No fucking way.”
Mingyu could only laugh as he wrapped you back up into his warm embrace. “How about I go with you then next time? I’ll make the evil monsters go away,” he chuckled, which earned him an arm pinch in return. “Ow!”
“Serves you right,” you huffed, but couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “You didn’t see it just chilling there as if it owned the damn place. The most terrifying thing I’ve seen in my life.”
“Can’t have that now, can we? I’ll make sure to let it know,” Mingyu smirked as he led you over to the little table that had been set up. “But first… food! It’s almost done, so get comfortable.”
“What are we having?” you asked and leaned over to peek at whatever he’d been cooking inside the large pot on the portable stove.
“Just some decent ramyeon,” Mingyu grinned.
You gave him a pointed look at the reference, but he only winked and draped a tea towel over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the stove.
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Later that night, you watched Mingyu with envy as he slept soundly beside you. His semi-long dark hair was all over the place, his leg was bent at an odd angle, and his mouth was slightly open, but despite how silly he might have seemed, he looked so calm and peaceful – the complete opposite of you.
Whereas Mingyu had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, you just couldn’t seem to fall asleep, no matter how hard you tried. Normally, you didn’t have any problems falling asleep – even in unfamiliar settings – but not even the sound of Mingyu’s soft, comforting snores could help you this time.
You had a feeling it had something to do with having to sleep in a tent that allowed you to hear everything around you. It was like every little sound was amplified, leaving you hyper-aware and very much attuned to your surroundings. From the leaves rustling in the wind to the crickets chirping, and the frogs croaking in the distance, you heard it all… and it was driving you nuts.
Mingyu no doubt had something planned for the both of you, and you feared that if you didn’t manage to get at least a couple of hours in, you wouldn’t be a very fun person to be around for the next twenty-four hours. Your husband didn’t deserve that kind of treatment, especially not when he’d worked so hard to arrange everything for this trip.
Letting out an annoyed sigh, you lazily reached for your phone and tapped the screen to check the time.
2.53 AM. Fuck.
You turned around with some effort and propped yourself up on your elbows, opting to read something on your phone in the hope that would do the trick. But just as you’d selected a kindle, some movement to your right caught your eye.
Right there, stuck to the outside of the tent, was what you confirmed to be a large insect that seemed to be nearly the size of your palm.
Your first instinct was to scream for Mingyu, but you caught yourself before any sound could leave your mouth. Did you really have to wake him for this? It was stupid, honestly. You were aware of that. The thing wasn’t even inside the tent, but still. The fact that it was just there, right beside your head, was enough to tense up your whole body.
Ignoring it was what you should have done, but with your entomophobia, you knew that the voice in the back of your mind wouldn’t allow you to do so. Besides, you were pretty sure that sleep would also be out of the question if you didn’t do something about it.
That’s how you found yourself reaching out for the sleeping man beside you after some consideration.
“M-Mingyu,” you mumbled, nudging your husband while keeping an eye on the ginormous bug that was stuck to the outside of your tent.
“Mingyu, wake up,” you said, this time raising your voice a little as you nudged him again. Only it did exactly nothing. The man remained dead asleep, snoring away without a care in the world and totally oblivious to your state of panic.
It was only when the bug moved that you decided you’d had enough. With a simple flick of your fingers against Mingyu’s forehead, you managed to pull the man from his deep slumber, much to his annoyance.
“Fuck,” your husband groaned as he grabbed onto his forehead in pain. “What the heck was that for? You okay, baby?”
You turned on the flashlight on your phone and aimed it at the side of the tent. “No, I’m not! Look at that thing, it’s huge!”
Your husband took one look at the bug before letting out a tired groan. “It’s on the outside of the tent, nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t give a shit. It’s right beside my head. W-what if it breaks through the tent and crawls inside?” you stuttered, scooting further into Mingyu’s side when the thing suddenly decided to move again – barely an inch, but still.
Your husband decided that was the moment to start laughing, his chest rumbling as the deep sound reverberated through the tent. You, however, didn’t think there was much to laugh about. You were more concerned about the bug that was still there.
“Mingyu, please,” you begged. “It’s not funny!”
“I’m sorry, baby. You’re just too cute.” He chuckled and propped himself up on his elbow before reaching over to deliver a solid blow to the tent wall. The impact caused the whole tent to shake for a few seconds, and when it stabilized again, the bug had disappeared.
You released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.
“Better?” Mingyu asked as he laid back down.
You nodded, finally allowing yourself to take your eyes off the tent wall. “Much. Thanks, Gyu.”
“Now try to get some sleep, okay? We have a busy schedule tomorrow.”
“I’m trying, but I can’t,” you groaned, plopping your head down on your pillow.
“Is that so?” You hummed in response, watching as the corners of your husband’s mouth shaped into a bold grin. “You’re in luck then because I know just the way to help you with that.”
You felt panic wash over you at his implication, very much aware that you were in the middle of the forest with nothing but a few layers of tent shielding you from anyone who happened to be in the area.
“Gyu, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? I promise I’ll be quick.” He was already out of his sleeping bag and hovering over you, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he waited for your answer.
“Because…” you started, momentarily distracted by the hand that was trying to wiggle underneath your hoodie. Not to mention the lips that had suddenly attached themselves to your neck. “Gyu, we’re in the middle of the forest and this tent is not sound pro— ah!”
Mingyu removed his teeth from your skin, placing a gentle kiss on the mark he’d left before moving his lips toward your ear.
“That’s too bad because I don’t give a fuck,” he whispered, which was followed by his teeth teasingly scraping along the outer shell of your ear.
Oh boy.
Your eyes automatically closed at the action, goosebumps forming all across your skin as your husband gently nibbled on your ear lobe.
Even though you didn’t want to admit it, everything he was doing had the desired effect. Your nipples were hard as rocks and your panties were sticky with arousal from only a few simple touches. As your husband, Mingyu knew your body like the back of his hand, so he obviously knew what buttons to push, and where to touch you to reduce your mind to mush and bring you intense pleasure. But that also meant it was ten times more difficult to say no to him.
“S-still, I don’t think we should,” you stammered, surprised to feel the hand that had originally been trying to get inside your hoodie now inside your underwear, so close to where you wanted him… needed him.
His movements halted for a moment, but at the small whine of protest that followed from you, he felt more than encouraged to continue with whatever he had in store for you.
“You want me to stop?” he asked, watching with a grin as the feeling of his fingers brushing over your swollen clit sent a series of shivers down your body.
Of course you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to make you feel good, you wanted him to make you cum all over his fingers, over and over again until you had nothing left to give.
“Do you?” your husband pressed once more when you’d failed to answer his question. He took it a step further this time and used his thumb to gather some slick before rubbing it against your clit in slow circles.
Your mouth clamped shut as you tried to fight the whimper that threatened to escape. You were this close to losing it and Mingyu knew it, which is exactly why you didn’t trust your voice at the moment. So instead of answering his question, you simply shook your head.
“Use your voice, baby. Do you want me to stop?” He dipped two of his fingers into your heat without warning and your first response was to open your legs wider for him. His digits found their destination almost instantly, tips pressing against your gummy walls just the way you liked.
Your will to resist vanished completely with that. You couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted this, right here, right now – tent or not.
“N-no. God no. Don’t fucking stop,” you whined and bucked your hips, eager for some more friction.
Mingyu couldn’t hide his little victory smirk.
“That’s my girl.”
It was fair to say you slept like a baby when he was finally done with you.
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DAY 2
The next time you opened your eyes, light was streaming into the tent and Mingyu was nowhere to be seen. His sleeping bag was already neatly folded and stacked on top of his pillow, which told you that he’d probably been up for a little while.
Reaching for your phone, you noted that it was 7.45 AM – way too early for your liking. You would have loved to sleep a bit longer, but you were glad for the little bit of sleep you’d managed to get. Your husband had lived up to his promise, being quick to tire you out with his skillful fingers, after which you went out like a light.
You almost didn’t want to admit it, but the whole idea of anyone being able to catch you in such a compromising position had excited you more than you would have thought.It made you wonder what else your husband had in store for you, and if there was a possibility the two of you could repeat last night’s events.
The sudden sound of leaves crushing, and metal clinking against metal, made you sit right up in the makeshift bed. It was followed by a loud sizzling sound which indicated that someone was cooking.
Leaving the thoughts of your husband’s fingers on your body in the back of your mind, you got up and folded your sleeping bag before putting your small stack right next to the other one. You then shuffled to the front of the tent to step into your shoes and reached down for the big zipper.
“Gyu?” you called as you unzipped the tent, only to be greeted by your husband happily dancing behind the portable stove. “Gyu,” you giggled, walking close enough to touch his arm.
He tensed up for a moment, but when he noticed it was just you, he quickly relaxed.
“Oh! You’re up!” He beamed, taking down the headphones he was wearing.
“You’re awfully cheery this morning,” you chuckled, mimicking the shimmy move you’d seen him do just a moment ago.
Mingyu couldn’t help but smile at your cute imitation.
“How can I not? It’s going to be a beautiful day and I get to spend it with my pretty wife,” he said and pulled you in for a warm hug. You were more than happy to oblige.
“Hmm, I guess so.” Your smile widened as he pressed his soft, plush lips against yours. “What time did you get up anyway?”
“About two hours ago, I think?”
Your eyes widened at the statement. “Two hours ago?!”
“It’s no big deal. I just did some research and made some preparations for today,” your husband assured you.
“I could have helped with that, you know?”
Mingyu shook his head. “No way. I’ve got everything under control, baby. Besides, you looked so adorable sleeping and I wanted you to get some rest.” He smirked. “Speaking of which, did you sleep well?”
“I did. Thanks to you,” you mumbled, a small grin plastered onto your face as you once again recalled last night’s events.
“Glad to be of service,” he snickered and lowered his hand to softly slap your ass. “Now, on to actual business. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. There’s already some coffee on the table, so please have some. You’ll need all the energy you can get for today.”
Walking over to the small table, you sat down in one of the chairs and reached for the large thermos bottle.
“And what exactly is it that we’re doing?” you asked while you poured yourself a steaming cup of coffee.
Mingyu took his eyes off the stove to throw a cheeky look your way. “Patience, baby. I’ll show you after breakfast.”
Your eyes narrowed playfully. “Why do I have a feeling you’re having a little too much fun with this?”
“Because I definitely am.”
“Give me strength,” you muttered before carefully sipping on your coffee.
Five minutes later, Mingyu joined you at the table with two bowls of kimchi fried rice. The two of you ate in silence for most of it, just opting to enjoy each other’s company and the sun that was starting to break through the trees.
Mingyu’s cooking skills never failed to amaze you. He could make anything work, even with limited cooking supplies and ingredients available to him. The flavors and textures were always so on point, and this kimchi fried rice was no exception.
You were sad to finish the last bite of the delicious meal, but that feeling was quickly overshadowed by the realization that Mingyu was finally going to tell you what he had planned for the day.
“What’s this?” you asked, observing the large white envelope your husband handed you.
“Open it and find out.”
Mingyu watched expectantly as you peeled the envelope open and pulled out a laminated A4-sized piece of paper.
You gasped, your eyes scanning over the paper titled ‘Camping with Mr. & Mrs. Kim’. Mingyu had made it pretty clear that he wanted to make this trip as comfortable as possible for you, but you’d never expected him to create an entire itinerary to go with it. He’d truly thought of everything, from the layout to the colors to the activities and the time schedules.
When the hell did he have time to come up with all of this?
“Wha— Gyu… You made this?” You traced your fingers over the cute little stars Mingyu had added to the paper.
“You like it?”
“This is amazing! It’s ambitious, for sure… but I can work with this,” you nodded, offering your husband a grin.
He beamed, seemingly relieved with your positive response. “Glad my efforts weren’t for nothing. I know this trip isn’t exactly what you expected, but I hope you’ll like what I have planned for us.”
You released a breathy chuckle and leaned across the table to kiss his lips. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Unbelievably amazing? I know, right? It’s hard to be me sometimes, I’ll tell you that,” he sighed dramatically.
“Don’t push it,” you warned, noting the smug look that had taken over his features. “The trip isn’t over yet.”
“Trust me, baby. You’ll want to go camping again after this.”
You let out a snort. “I doubt it.” You then looked back down at the itinerary, your eyes stopping at the time slot named ‘surprise activity’. “Are you going to tell me what that surprise activity is about though?”
“Nope. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise then, would it?” He winked and moved to get up from his chair, bowl in his hand.
“Oh, come on! Please, Gyu,” you begged, quickly grabbing your own bowl to follow after him, determined to find a way to get him to spill the beans.
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At precisely 9 AM, the both of you set off for Mingyu’s scheduled forest hike. How you’d managed to make that happen was a mystery to you.
Between trying to convince your husband to let you in on the surprise, cleaning up the dishes, changing into an appropriate outfit, and being greeted by yet another giant spider that had decided to hide in your shoe, you were certain that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. But of course – Mingyu being Mingyu – he had managed to convince you to put aside your fears for today after lots of sweet kisses and words of encouragement.
So, here you were, trying to conjure up all the positive thoughts you could find to make you forget about the eight-legged creature you encountered earlier this morning, or the fact that the leggings you were currently wearing were just a little too tight around your ass for your liking.
When Mingyu told you that he’d packed you an additional bag with all the necessities you would need for this trip, you’d expected to find an assortment of your favorite items. But instead, you discovered that he’d packed most of the bag exactly to his liking… including several pairs of leggings that you hadn’t worn in forever. It wasn’t like you didn’t like the pieces – or you wouldn’t have bought them – but they did nothing to hide the dips and bumps on your legs and butt, which is why you preferred not to wear them in public.
Although you were aware that Mingyu loved everything about your skin, and that you had absolutely nothing to worry about with the way he praised your body every day, you were still more than a little salty about this sneaky move of his.
“You really couldn’t have chosen a different pair of leggings, huh?” you grumbled after you’d been walking for about fifteen minutes.
“I could have, but these happened to be the first ones I saw.”
“You’re such a liar, Kim Mingyu!” you exclaimed, which was followed by a loud snort. “I haven’t worn these in ages, which is why they were in the back of our closet.”
“Oh, really? Someone must have misplaced them by mistake then, I guess.” He shrugged, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
You threw him a pointed look, letting him know you thought he was full of shit. “Yeah, that someone being you. I know you too well, mister. You chose them because you like the way my ass looks in them.”
“Well, when you put it like that…,” he peeked down at your ass with a satisfied smirk, “your ass does look amazing, baby, bigger even. I can see every jiggle this way.”
You rolled your eyes, wondering how you’d ended up with such a shameless husband.
“Perv,” you muttered, but still loud enough for Mingyu to hear.
“What was that?” Mingyu ripped his eyes away from your behind to stare at your face in disbelief.
“You heard me,” you dared, noticing the way his eyes darkened at your response.
Oh oh. You knew that look. And it usually meant nothing but trouble… for you.
Mingyu suddenly leaped forward, reaching out both of his hands in an attempt to grab you, but you anticipated the move and were able to jump out of the way, leaving only the feeling of his fingers grazing your bare arm as you took off without another thought.
“Yah! Come back here! You’re gonna regret saying that!”
“You’ll have to come and get me first then!”
You turned around and giggled at the sight of your struggling husband, knowing there was no way he’d be able to chase after you with all the weight he was carrying on his back. Mingyu had insisted on being the one to carry most of the heavy load, which included a few liters of water, food, his camera, and God knows what else he was hiding in his backpack.
“Just because you’re faster now doesn’t mean you’ll always be faster, baby.”
You grinned and waved him off before happily continuing your way, not at all feeling affected by his threat.
“I can’t hear you from over there!”
The rest of the walk was rather peaceful, with you and Mingyu snapping pictures here and there, and him pointing out pretty flowers and blossoming trees every so often. At one point, the two of you even spotted a small family of rabbits huddled together, grazing on some grass and blissfully unaware of you and Mingyu watching them from afar. Upon your request, Mingyu took a few pictures with his camera to commemorate the moment and then you were back on your way, leaving the fluffy creatures to enjoy their mealtime.
Despite nearly having your day ruined by an enormous spider scaring the living shit out of you so early in the morning, you were very glad you’d let Mingyu convince you to tag along. You’d never been a big fan of long hikes in general, but you sure wouldn’t have wanted to miss this for the world – getting to experience the fresh, earthy forest air for the first time in forever, the feeling of the warm sun on your skin as you walked through the beautiful scenery, and most importantly, the quality time you got to spend with your husband.
You’d never seen him as excited as he was now, practically dragging you down the path and stopping at everything that seemed noteworthy, all too eager to tell you about the little forest facts he’d read up on with the biggest smile on his face. That alone was enough to get you just as excited.
It was only when you neared the end of your three-hour hike that you were in dire need of a break. Your legs were starting to cramp, and your shoulders were becoming sore as a result of the small backpack you were carrying, your body not quite used to the additional weight.
With Mingyu being the observant husband he was, he was quick to notice the change in your expression and the way you’d subtly slowed down your pace, which eventually led him to suggest a short and much-needed drink break. The words hadn’t even left his mouth and you’d already dropped your stuff on the brown, leaf-covered forest floor. You then lifted yourself onto a sizable rock and let your legs dangle freely, happy to let your sore feet rest for a few minutes.
“You okay, baby?” Mingyu handed you a bottle of water, which you all too eagerly accepted.
After quickly screwing the cap off, you took a few big gulps of water before you felt good enough to respond.
“Yeah, I am now,” you gasped as you handed the bottle back so that he could drink from it too, “but everything freaking hurts!”
“We’re almost at the lunch spot, though. You’ve been doing well so far.” He placed the bottle down beside you and took his position between your legs, his hands on either side of you, caging you in.
The rock you were sitting on gave you more than enough height for Mingyu to look you in the eye without him having to bend down.
You took that opportunity to roam your eyes over your husband’s impressive physique. The white t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to prevent you from seeing the toned pectoral muscles hidden beneath. Neither did it stop him from showing off his muscular arms, which were glowing as a result of the rays of sunlight shining down on them.
Being this close, you were able to see every little detail. The little hairs and freckles on his forearms, the flex of his muscles as he shifted his weight, and not to mention the prominent veins you loved to see – they ran from his wrists all the way to the crease of his elbows, where they disappeared into his smooth, tan skin.
All those mornings spent at the gym had certainly paid off.
“I do have to admit that I’m enjoying this more than I would have thought.” You smirked, allowing your eyes to trail back to Mingyu’s, which were already glistening with mischief.He grinned triumphantly.
“See? You’re already becoming a camping enthusiast.”
“Hmm, I wouldn’t go that far,” you said, noticing that the distance between the two of you had become smaller during the time you’d been admiring him.
“Maybe you just need a little extra convincing,” he mumbled, leaning forward so that his chest was pressed right against yours, his breath hot against your face.
Though you felt gross and sweaty from the intense walk, and your first instinct was to push Mingyu off your damp form, the hands grabbing onto your ass and his semi-hard dick pressing into your crotch made you want to do the complete opposite.
“Maybe I do,” you whispered, trailing your hands over the front of his shirt and past his shoulders to cup his face. At the same time, Mingyu closed the little bit of distance between you.
Warmth instantly consumed you the moment his lips touched yours, the pain in your joints pushed to the back of your mind as you let yourself get sucked into a haze by the man wedged between your thighs. His plush lips were soft against your own, moving gently, coaxing you to part your lips to let him in for a taste. Mindlessly, you obeyed, a series of tingles washing down your back as you allowed his tongue to slip past your eager lips. You let out a whimper to voice your approval and tightened your legs around his waist to feel him even closer.
From then it was like a switch had turned. What had started as gentle and soft was quickly becoming heated and intoxicating with the way your husband was kissing you – scratch that – devouring you. He was like a starved man scoffing down a meal, almost as if he was afraid that someone would come and snatch it away at any moment. You were all too happy to respond, though, returning his kisses with the same hunger while one of your hands found its way into his black hair.
Mingyu’s own hands had not yet moved from your ass, but you didn’t mind one bit. His large, warm hands covered every bit of your soft flesh – caressing, squeezing, and delivering the occasional slap to pull a needy moan from you.
You welcomed every single touch, every kiss, every shiver that ran through your body as you relished in the heated moment between you and him. Your mind was completely fogged up, his perfect woodsy, sweaty scent invading your nostrils, overwhelming you and making you lose the ability to think clearly for a few blissful moments. At one point, you even stopped caring about the fact that you were still very much in public, dry-humping your very sexy husband on top of a rock, for everyone to see.
A particular hard slap to your backside was what eventually pulled you back to reality. You gasped at the impact, tugging harshly on the thick, black locks you’d gathered between your fingers in a reflex.
This time it was Mingyu’s turn to moan, his lips losing their vigorous rhythm momentarily at your unexpected move.
Your lips curled up into a grin. It wasn’t often that you were able to catch your husband off guard, so you felt extremely satisfied with the reaction you’d managed to pull from him.
But your euphoria was short-lived when Mingyu pulled away, leaving you to chase after his lips like a desperate puppy, eager for more affection. You didn’t want it to stop, and he had not given you the feeling he wanted to either, so you were quite taken aback by the abrupt ending.
“What are you doing?” you whined as you opened your eyes, lightly tugging at the locks again in a futile attempt to reconnect your lips.
Mingyu just chuckled at your pouty expression and gently untangled your fingers from his hair.
“We have a schedule to get to, what else?” He then lifted your fingers to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the digit that carried your wedding band.
“Are you serious? You’d rather go back to the schedule than back to our tent to finish this?”
“And miss out on the rest of the itinerary? No way, baby.”
You looked at him as if he’d grown two heads, wondering who the hell this Mingyu was.
“You can’t tell me you don’t want this. You got me all hot and bothered for nothing,” you groaned.
“Then are you gonna let me fuck you right here, out in the open and for everyone to see?” Mingyu’s eyes went from playful to hungry in the span of a few milliseconds, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as he watched you intensely.
Your mouth opened only to close again as you processed his words, finding it very hard to ignore the nagging ache between your slicked-up thighs with his captivating stare burning right through you. Just a second ago you probably would have said yes to his proposal without another thought – truth be told, you probably would have let him do anything he wanted – but now that the cloud of arousal had already cleared for the most part, and your rational side had taken over once again, you were suddenly very aware of your surroundings… and yourself.
At your stunned expression and your lack of response, Mingyu’s eyes morphed back into their playful state before he threw his head back to let out the loudest laugh yet.
“Don’t look so scared, baby. You can keep your clothes on. I’m just kidding.” He grinned and leaned down to grab the large backpack from the ground, which he swung onto his back with some effort.
“Jerk!” you grumbled, though you also felt slightly relieved at the same time. You weren’t sure whether your poor heart could have handled any more of that sexual tension.
“Were you really kidding though?” you asked carefully after you’d hopped down from the rock to retrieve your own backpack, wondering if he could have been serious after all.
He grabbed your hand and gave it a light squeeze before throwing one of his cheeky smirks your way.
“Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”
Wait and find out… or whatever that was supposed to mean.
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Lunch was relaxing and relatively uneventful. Mingyu had picked out a pretty spot in a large, open field where he laid down a sizable blanket for the two of you to sit on.
Not surprisingly, your husband had prepared a generous spread of food, including a few rice balls, some egg rolls, and a variety of your favorite kimbap, all of which he insisted on feeding you himself. That led to the necessary back and forth, with you arguing that you were “a grown woman and perfectly capable of feeding yourself” and Mingyu claiming that he just wanted to “spoil his pretty wife”. Of course, you had no counter-argument to that – you loved it when he spoiled you.
That’s why you eventually gave in and let him feed you as you sat in between his legs, secretly enjoying every second of the princess treatment.
When you were full and satisfied, Mingyu leaned you back against his broad chest to give you another moment to rest. You took that time to bask in the sunlight, allowing the pleasant warmth of the rays to seep into your body. It was probably the most at peace you’d felt in months – no work, no calls or messages, absolutely nothing to distract you… well, except for your husband, who couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you.
You jumped at a sudden tickling sensation on your arms and opened your eyes in a panic, only to relax when you realized that it was, in fact, not another bug coming to traumatize you but Mingyu, who was lightly running his fingertips over your exposed arms.
Goosebumps erupted all across your body as he traced random patterns into your skin. His fingers very slowly made their way up your arms before eventually moving into your hair, gently massaging your scalp for a few minutes. You were in absolute heaven, completely enthralled by his electric touches in this blissful moment. It felt so good that you even dozed off for a few minutes.
After what felt like way too soon, however, Mingyu nudged you awake to announce your departure for the next item on the itinerary. You were less than thrilled to get up from your comfortable position, but you also knew that you still had quite a bit of a journey ahead, and you didn’t want to disappoint Mingyu by throwing in the towel before you’d done everything on his list.
Much to your disappointment, the so-called ‘surprise activity’ was still very much a surprise. Despite your continuous begging and your obvious attempts to get him to slip up, Mingyu had refused to budge. You wondered what could be so special that he wouldn’t just let you in on the whole thing. Because how many things could you possibly do in a forest?
You’d thought of a few things such as birdwatching and fishing, neither of which sounded particularly exciting to you. Mingyu knew you weren’t a big fan of birds – you still hadn’t forgiven that goddamn pigeon for pooping on your head in the middle of your date – and as far as fishing was concerned, you just didn’t see the point in waiting for some poor fish to take the bait, only to end up throwing it right back where it came from.
No thanks.
With those options eliminated, you had one other potential idea – a scavenger hunt to be precise. You wouldn’t put it past your husband to come up with something as cliché as that. It seemed like he’d done more than enough research for this trip, so the thought didn’t seem too crazy. Besides, you liked games and puzzles, especially when they involved competitive components. And who were you to say no to a little healthy competition between you and your husband?
The man in question currently had his nose buried in a small notebook that he held in his left hand, a map in the other. Mingyu had hardly said a word since you left the lunch location, only speaking when you needed to take a left or a right, which was more than a little frustrating.
If only he would let you look at whatever he’d written down in that little notebook of his. So far, every time you had tried to sneak a peek, he’d caught you and told you off.
“Are you finally going to tell me what this surprise is?” you asked impatiently when he still hadn’t told you after forty minutes of walking.
“Give me a moment, baby. I’m looking for the right spot,” he answered, not taking his eyes off the map in his right hand.
Right spot? Right spot for what exactly?
It took another ten minutes before Mingyu finally stopped walking.
“Okay, this should be it!” he exclaimed excitedly, folding up the map before stuffing it back into his pocket.
You stood in the middle of the forest path you’d been following, taking in the rows of gorgeous oak trees lining it, their vast canopy protecting you from the bright and burning hot sun. It was a pretty sight, for sure… but you also wondered what was so special about this spot in particular.
“So… what exactly am I supposed to see?” you questioned when nothing in particular caught your eye.
“I’ll give you a hint.”
Mingyu then lowered his large backpack to the ground and opened it to pull out several empty Tupperware boxes. You suddenly understood why he’d chosen such a ginormous backpack for your hike – anything smaller wouldn’t have been an option with the amount of stuff he’d brought along.
He handed one of the boxes to you, and you studied it carefully for a few seconds, not quite knowing what to do with it.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I still don’t get it. It’s empty.”
“Yes! And it will be our task to fill it.”
“With…? Leaves? Stones?”
Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head at your incorrect guesses. “Not exactly. We’ll be collecting ingredients for tonight’s dinner. Isn’t that cool?!”
Well, that wasn’t quite what you’d expected.
“Excuse me? You want us to pick some random plants and eat them?”
Your mind was already imagining the worst possible scenario – a one-way trip to the morgue because you’d accidentally eaten something poisonous. That didn’t sound particularly appealing to you.
“You really think I’d propose this without doing the proper research?” He raised the small notebook he’d been studying before giving you a pointed look. “Baby, you should really know me better by now.”
You really should have. Because when he finally showed you the contents of said notebook, you realized just how much time he’d actually taken to look into this. He’d written page after page of detailed notes about where to find what plant, which plants were safe to eat and which ones weren’t, and much more, all with corresponding pictures for easier recognition.
The more Mingyu explained, the more at ease you felt, and the more excited you became at the prospect of making a dish with ingredients you’d collected yourself. It was far from the surprise activity you’d expected, but in all honesty, he couldn’t have chosen better. You and Mingyu boIth loved anything food-related, whether it was cooking or eating, so this was the perfect little activity for the two of you.
“Have I told you I love you already?” you asked when he finished speaking, overcome with a sudden surge of love for your husband.
You honestly didn’t know what you did to deserve someone as caring and thoughtful as Mingyu. He was always so selfless, never asking for much, never taking but always giving to everyone around him. It was one of the things that made you fall in love with him, and now, five years later, you felt like you were falling in love with him all over again with all the emotions welling up inside you.
You loved Mingyu with all your being, that much you knew already – and so did he. But knowing that he’d gone through all this effort just for you, thought about every detail from start to finish, and did it all with a smile on his face, filled you with a sense of awe and admiration for the man that was simply too much for your heart to handle right now.
“You might have, but I don’t mind hearing it again,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close, allowing his scent to envelop you like a warm, comforting hug.
“Well, in that case… I love you Kim Mingyu,” you mumbled with a small smile, and leaned in to briefly press your lips against his as butterflies fluttered around in your stomach.
“I love you too, baby. Very…,” he leaned in for another short kiss, “…much.”
“Thanks, Gyu… for trying to make this experience as fun as possible for me,” you said, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt.
His eyes momentarily softened at your words. “Anything for you, baby.” Then, his lips tugged into a smug grin as he leaned in close again. “But if you’re looking for a way to thank me, I could think of a few things.”
“Way to ruin the moment, Gyu.” You rolled your eyes, jabbing your finger into his toned chest.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he snickered, which let you know just how not sorry he was.
“Just show me where these damn plants are before I change my mind,” you huffed and shoved the empty box into his hands before crossing your arms over your chest.
“Okay, okay! Let’s go pick some plants!”
From then on it was back to serious business. Naturally, Mingyu took the lead and started your hunt for ingredients. The plants you were specifically looking for were Korean wild chives, also referred to as dallae, and ssuk, better known as mugwort. According to Mingyu – and the hundred sources he’d consulted during his preparation – this time of the year was the most ideal for harvesting because the flavors were supposedly at their peak.
Both of you diligently scoured the fields and riverbanks for the two vegetables for a good while before Mingyu spotted the first ingredient – ssuk. He made you study the plant for a few minutes and nearly short-circuited your brain when he flooded you with another batch of facts, which, clearly, you were never going to remember anyway.
Only after that did he let you wander off on your own with your empty box in hand, carefully looking for ssuk plants with young and tender leaves as Mingyu had instructed you – these would apparently bring out the best flavor of the ssukguk he had in mind.
It didn’t take long for you to fill up your container. With the continuous sound of the cicadas roaring in the background, and the calming rustling of the oak trees surrounding you – their leaves clashing and fluttering around from the impact of the breeze – your body had gone into autopilot, hands sorting through dozens of bundles of ssuk, not stopping until you’d found the most perfect-looking ones.
Mingyu came to find you just as you were closing up your container. His own container, just like yours, was filled to the brim with the plant, and you were fairly certain that there would be more than enough ssuk for at least three or four batches of ssukguk.
Your husband took it upon himself to doublecheck your collected batch – for your and his safety – and when he was satisfied with what he’d seen, he bestowed you with sweet praises and then continued to pull you into an unexpected mind-numbing kiss that made every inch of your skin flush hot. The butterflies that had been dormant came back to life, swirling around in your stomach until you felt dizzy and weak in the knees. Your mind felt like it was slowly melting again, gradually succumbing to the irresistible force trying to suck you in. And you weren’t doing anything to stop it from happening.
Mingyu, who was either completely oblivious to your suffering or simply chose not to acknowledge it, pulled away all too soon, once again leaving you with a need for more. The subtle quirk of his lips and the cheeky grin that followed at the sight of your pouty expression told you all you needed to know.
That little shit.
You refused to talk to your husband the entire way to the dallae field, much to his annoyance. It was funny, really, to see him so desperate for your attention while you gave him absolutely nothing. No look, no smile, no reaction at all, which, honestly, was hard enough as it was. But he was the one who wanted to play games, so that’s what he could get. Maybe then he’d stop trying to start something he wasn’t planning on finishing.
It was only when Mingyu dropped to his knees in front of you – very dramatically – and begged for your forgiveness, exclaiming his love for you at the top of his lungs, that you decided he’d been punished enough – you also may or may not have used the opportunity to get one of his famous foot massages out of it. Mingyu didn’t care, though. He was all too happy you were talking to him again, so a foot massage was a minor compromise in his eyes.
With that little hiccup out of the way, you two were back to the task at hand: gathering dallae. The field it was located in was huge and dense with all types of plants and bushes that you didn’t recognize at all. Feeling completely lost, you turned to Mingyu for help, hoping that he could make sense of all the different kinds of flora.
It came as no surprise when he told you that he’d already spotted the second and final ingredient you’d be collecting, nor were you surprised when he excitedly dragged you along to give you another one of his crash courses. You watched him in amazement as he spoke passionately, noticing the way his hair slightly stuck to his forehead from all the hard work he’d been putting in, and the way he cutely scrunched up his nose as he studied the dallae from up close.
It was a sight for sore eyes, which you unfortunately didn't get to enjoy for long as Mingyu reached the end of his short lesson. You were somewhat disappointed because it meant you had to stop ogling your handsome husband, but you accepted a new Tupperware box anyway, forcing yourself to focus on your given task.
Filling up your Tupperware with dallae went much faster than collecting ssuk. After only fifteen minutes of you plucking bundles of fresh green dallae for the jeon you’d be making, you came looking for your husband to show him your inventory. This time, he only praised you after briefly inspecting your container, thinking twice about rewarding you with another one of those breathtaking kisses. It was amusing, watching him try to restrain himself from touching you when that was all he wanted to do.
You were no different, longing for his touch, your body itching to feel his hands back on your skin, grabbing you, squeezing you. But for the sake of the itinerary and your sanity - the latter in particular - you ought it best to steer clear of Mingyu... at least while you were out and about.
That's why you pushed those sinful thoughts to the back of your mind for the time being, although you were fairly certain you'd be revisiting them sooner rather than later.
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The hike back to the camp went surprisingly fast, mainly because you’d already walked quite a bit of it during your ingredient hunt, so the final part of the walk wasn’t as bad as you’d expected it to be. That didn’t mean you were any less tired. Your feet were killing you, you were sweating all over and you were pretty sure that if you didn’t get another dose of caffeine soon, you’d fall asleep before even getting a taste of your husband’s ssukguk.
Mingyu, who was able to perfectly read you, already had a steaming cup of coffee waiting for you when you returned from the bathroom, clad in a fresh new outfit that was much more comfortable than the one you’d been wearing during your hike.
“Thanks, Gyu,” you sighed, immediately feeling much better when you finally let the warm, caffeine-filled beverage glide down your throat.
“I could tell you needed that,” Mingyu said while moving over a few big chunks of wood in preparation for the campfire.
“Wait, you brought an axe?” you sputtered, eyes widening slightly when he suddenly pulled the object from a large sports bag.
Mingyu beamed, propping the sharp object against his shoulder like it wasn’t able to slice through his skin with one wrong move.
“Sure did! Isn’t it a beauty?”
“Do you even know how to use it?” you asked, worry etched on your brows as you tried to recall an occasion where you’d seen Mingyu using an axe – there were none.
“Seungcheol Hyung taught me how to use it. He’s a pro at chopping wood, remember?”
Yes, you did remember something about Seungcheol being good at wood chopping, but that didn’t make you feel any less anxious about your husband handling such a dangerous tool.
You nervously bit your lower lip. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t wanna see any chopped-off limbs.”
“I promise.” Mingyu smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be right here so you can watch me. How does that sound?”
“Good, I guess,” you mumbled, still not entirely convinced, but choosing to trust your husband.
It was fair to say that you’d been completely wrong to doubt Mingyu about his wood-chopping skills. While you cleaned the vegetables you’d collected, thoroughly washing them with water and carefully laying them out to dry on a small drying rack, your husband was splitting the wood pieces like a professional, each hit precise and calculated, as if he’d been doing this his whole life.
Distracting… that’s what it was. You found it hard to keep your eyes away from the man, not because you were worried about him accidentally chopping off his fingers, but because he looked like a goddamn snack the whole time. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his white t-shirt, showing off even more of his perfectly sculpted arms. Not that you were complaining, though. You were practically drooling at the sight before you, your own task long forgotten as you ogled the flexing muscles on his veiny arms like a kid in a candy store.
You had to hold back a groan when you noticed the first few beads of sweat starting to roll down the sides of his face, watching with immense focus as they slowly slid down along the curve of his chiseled jaw, his smooth throat, and finally dipped inside the neck of his shirt, leaving the rest up to your imagination.
Your thighs were subconsciously rubbing together, slick beginning to stain your panties as you let your fantasies take over, arousal swirling inside you. Mingyu was none the wiser – at least you hoped so – splitting wood piece after wood piece while you, his wife, were thinking of all the ways in which you wanted him to fuck your pussy raw with his big dick.
“Everything okay there, baby?” Mingyu asked out of nowhere, catching you by surprise. He quickly put down a new wood chunk and raised the axe in the air, muscles pulling and coiling beneath his white t-shirt as he brought down the object with a loud grunt, the sound of which almost made you drop the bundle of dallae you were holding.
“I’m fine,” you squeaked, praying that he hadn’t caught you gawking at him. The last thing you needed was Mingyu teasing you for the rest of the night. “Nearly done here,” you added, your voice much more controlled.
Your husband set down the axe, stretching his hands above his head, which provided you with a tiny sneak peek of his robust abdominal muscles. It took everything in you to tear your eyes away, but you managed – barely, failing to notice the mischievous glint that crept across his features.
“Good, because I’m ready to get this campfire started.”
Setting up a campfire turned out to be a piece of cake for someone as prepared and as handy as Mingyu. It was a win for you, honestly, because you were able to sit back while he did his thing, only handing him the occasional chunk of wood or kindling. And then next thing you know, you had a full-on sputtering, crackling fire blazing, the heat of the flames warming the air while the sounds of dying branches gasping for their last breath filled the camping grounds.
It was a beautiful sight, especially with the sun starting to set and the enchanting, lively greenery surrounding it, and by the time you and Mingyu had finished dinner, it had become even more magnificent. With the sky now fully darkened, and radiant stars lighting it up like tiny snowflakes in the night, the campfire seemed to echo the starlight, its golden glow brightening up the entire area like a luminous supernova.
The two of you were enjoying all of it, cuddled up beside each other, gazing at the beautiful night sky as you lounged on a large blanket that you’d laid out earlier this evening. It was the perfect way to end the action-packed day.
“Psst!” Mingyu suddenly whispered, interrupting the peaceful atmosphere you’d been relishing for the past thirty minutes.
“What?” You lazily turned your head to face your husband, who was no doubt scheming something based on the impish look he gave you.
“Don’t think I didn’t see you ogling me when I was chopping up that wood.”
You quickly averted your eyes at his brazen confession, mentally cursing yourself for having been so obvious.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you finally said, choosing to play dumb.
“Are you sure about that?” You could feel his warm breath hitting your cheek now.
“Very sure,” you breathed, your body tense as you tried to keep your expressions under control.
“Why are you lying to me, baby?”
“I’m not. I— wait, what are you doing?” You frowned, caught off guard when Mingyu suddenly sat up to pull off his dark green hoodie, revealing a black t-shirt that was hugging his body in all the right places.
“Oh, don’t mind me.” He threw you a cheeky grin. “It’s just getting a little hot here with the fire and all.”
You let out a snort. “That’s such a lie, Gyu. You’re doing this on purpose, just admit it.”
“If I admit to that, will you also admit that you were ogling me this afternoon?” he mused.
“I was not ly—” Mingyu raised his brows, challenging you to deny it again. “Okay, fine! I admit it. You were driving me fucking crazy this afternoon. You and your stupid arms, hands, everything!” you groaned, throwing your head back in defeat.
“My hands and arms, huh? Tell me what you were thinking about, baby.”
“It’s embarrassing,” you whined, and attempted to hide your face in his chest, but Mingyu wouldn’t have it.
“Tell me,” he demanded, his voice dropping dangerously low as he grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“Your hands… on my body,” You swallowed thickly under his heated gaze, “and your dick inside me, you fucking me till I can’t walk.”
Mingyu’s gaze darkened even more, his grip on your chin slightly tightening.
“Is that so?” he muttered, to which you gave a little nod. “Then how about we finish what we started this morning so I can do just that?”
“Right h-here?” you stammered.
Mingyu smirked, his eyes twinkling in the light of the campfire. “I don’t see why not.”
“Don’t you think we should go inside the tent?” you whispered, your eyes darting around nervously.
“I’d say fuck the tent. But it’s up to you, baby.”
Right, the choice was up to you. Because if it was up to Mingyu, he would fuck you wherever he pleased, not worried in the slightest about being seen. The only one worried about getting caught was you. But what was the big deal? As far as you could tell, the camping area was completely empty aside from you two, so what was holding you back from going through with it? You weren’t exactly sure either.
Come on, Y/N. Be a little wild for once.
Mingyu, who’d been patiently waiting for your answer, was definitely not expecting you to pounce on him without warning. You pressed against his clothed chest to force him on his back, barely giving him enough time to breathe before your mouth molded with his, kissing him with a startling vigor that left his mind reeling for the first few seconds.
But then his hands were on you, wandering with purpose, skimming under your hoodie in search of your naked skin. Everywhere he touched left a trail of fire in its wake, and every single one of your nerves came to life under his skillful fingers. You struggled to keep up with his lips, the press of his toned body against yours stirring up a storm of desire inside your gut that you weren’t quite prepared for.
Your fingers desperately tugged at the shirt he was wearing, and Mingyu wasted no time to comply with your non-verbal request, briefly disconnecting your lips to take off the clothing piece to reveal his impressive build.
You bit your bottom lip harshly to fight back a groan that threatened to escape, momentarily distracted by the breathtaking sight that was your husband.
Goosebumps formed on his perfect skin as his torso was exposed to the cool night air, drawing your attention to his taut, brown nipples. You let your fingers trail over them, watching with a newfound excitement as he twitched underneath your soft but teasing touches. Mingyu let you, urging you to explore more of him with a demanding groan and a squeeze to your backside.
You did exactly that, shifting your focus from his chest to the prominent lines on his abdomen, which were now even better accentuated by the light coming from the smoldering campfire beside you. Your nails carefully scraped over the well-defined muscles, lightly applying pressure, but not enough to leave behind marks.
Mingyu was a shivering mess by the time you reached the little happy trail below his belly button, his chest heaving, his cock fully hard, and his mind swirling with arousal from your administrations. You’d taken over every inch of his thoughts, slowly fogging up his brain with your magic touch, and his hands were itching to take the lead.
It wasn’t long before Mingyu gave into those impulses, no longer able to fight the impatient demon trying to claw its way out. His hands abruptly halted your movements, and his back lifted off the blanket to work you out of your clothes, not stopping until he’d ripped every single item off your body.
With your clothes now in a pile on the other side of the blanket, he guided you back on top of him with an easy strength, his eyes drinking in every inch of your bare skin, from your full, heavy breasts, to your soft tummy, all the way until he settled at the chubby mound between your plush thighs. It was a sight that made his dick twitch with anticipation.
“God, you are so fucking sexy,” he groaned, grabbing onto the fat of your hips before pulling your bare cunt down onto his very noticeable erection.
You were quick to bring one of your hands up to your mouth, trying to muffle the moan that you weren’t able to hold back in time as your walls clenched reflexively at the new sensation. But Mingyu ripped it away before you could, allowing the sound to resonate into the dark night.
“Don’t hide those pretty sounds.” He gently trailed a finger along the base of your throat, sending a series of shudders down your spine. “I wanna hear you… all of it”.
“Oka— shit!” you whimpered when Mingyu suddenly grabbed a handful of your breast, his fingers applying just the right amount of pain and pleasure as they dug into the squishy flesh.
“That’s more like it.” He grinned as his hand came down on your ass… hard, the sound of his palm hitting your supple skin loud enough to alert anyone in the area.
“Gyu,” you gasped when he did it once again, your hands finding its way into his hair, pulling insistently to express your delight while at the same time pleading for more.
Mingyu slid one of the hands resting on your ass up your back and reached around your neck to pull you in for another toe-curling kiss, pressing your body flush against his as he pushed his tongue past your lips for a second time tonight. The moans vibrating at the back of your throat were swallowed by Mingyu as he deepened the kiss, the hand on your ass continuing to knead and rub your pudgy flesh with the intent to bruise.
You were already too far gone to care, more concerned with the burning ache between your legs. Your hips shamelessly rolled against Mingyu, providing some sweet relief as you rubbed your throbbing clit against his clothed erection, your glossy slick staining his grey sweatpants, and the coil inside you winding tighter and tighter with every drag.
And then suddenly it snapped, the impact that followed striking you like a bolt of lightning, every muscle in your body drawing taut as you released with a muffled cry of your husband’s name, your cunt desperately clenching around nothing. Mingyu was right there to catch you, both of his strong arms wrapping around your waist to steady your convulsing body while his mouth caught your little sounds of pleasure.
“You made such a mess, baby,” Mingyu said as his fingers brushed through your puffy folds, being careful not to bump into your sensitive clit while he assessed the wreckage you’d left behind.
“You’re mostly to blame, though.” You managed to sit up with a little bit of strength, splaying your hands across his chest for support as you offered him a grin.
“Yeah? I made you this wet?” he mused, eyes sparkling with hunger.
“You tend to have that effect on me,” you whispered as you leaned down, your lips brushing against Mingyu’s for a moment before you caught his bottom lip with your teeth, gently nipping at the skin until he was squirming beneath you.
One of your hands wandered between your bodies to palm him softly through the fabric of his sweatpants. You observed your husband’s handsome face closely, noticing the way his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, followed by a buck of his hips and a series of breathless curses.
Feeling confident, you scooted down further, tugging off his pants along the way, only to discover that he’d gone commando.
You licked your lips at the sight, quickly throwing the stained pair of sweats onto the clothing pile.
“All prepared, huh?”
“For you? Always,” he returned with a wink.
“I see,” you hummed, licking your lips once again as you repositioned yourself between his strong thighs, taking in the bulging veins forking along his aching girth. It drooped hard and heavy against his pelvis, with large beads of pre-cum leaking steadily from his angry, red tip.
Your mouth watered at his sheer size, warm slick continuing to pool between your thighs as you imagined your husband stretching out your walls, molding you into the shape of his cock like he had done so many times already.
“You have such a nice cock,” you sighed, reaching out to wrap your fingers around the base of it, gently sliding him through your fingers a few times before leaning forward to get a taste of the salty substance you’d come to love, your tongue teasingly sliding through his slit as you lapped it all up.
Mingyu was in no state to respond. His breath left him in a sharp hiss at the feeling of your wet muscle teasing his sensitive tip. All conscious thoughts vacated his brain the moment he felt your warm breath fan against the base of his length. One of his large hands fisted into your hair when you began pressing a series of open-mouthed kisses along it, your gaze hot and heavy as you watched his every move from under your thick lashes. It was such a provocative sight that Mingyu had to stop himself from jamming his whole cock down your throat when you finally sucked the head between your luscious lips.
A loud groan sounded from Mingyu’s lips at the sudden wetness that surrounded him. He watched ardently as you took him in, not being able to stop another groan when your tongue started tracing the throbbing veins adorning his length. When he felt his tip press against the back of your throat, he automatically tightened his fist in your hair, his teeth clenching at the terrible things your mouth was doing to his thoughts.
You swallowed greedily, catching your husband by surprise as your throat constricted around him, suffocating his cock to the point where he momentarily lost control of his body. The jerk of his hips that followed forced another inch or two of his length down your throat. You gagged in reflex, placing your hands on his thighs as you abruptly pulled back to cough.
“Fuck,” Mingyu immediately released your hair, “sorry, baby.” His eyes were apologetic, although the sight of the drool spilling from your lips made him want to shove your mouth right back onto his throbbing cock.
“I’m fine,” you gasped, digging your nails into the flesh of his thighs as you lowered yourself again. “You know I can handle it,” you grinned before you wrapped your lips back around him.
Something about your words and the way you hollowed your cheeks as you began to suck him ignited a fire in his gut. Without realizing it, Mingyu had his hand back in your hair, eagerly guiding your head up and down in a steady rhythm, which was occasionally interrupted by you choking and spluttering whenever he tried to force just a little too much of his cock down your throat.
The view forced Mingyu to throw his head back at some point, his eyes clenching shut and his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as a debauched moan escaped from his lips. One more look at you with your mouth stuffed full of his cock and he was positive that he would explode in an instant.
You were thoroughly enjoying yourself, letting your tongue work your husband the way you knew he liked, your hands filling in wherever your mouth couldn’t reach. Your eyes did not leave his face once, wanting to catch every little change in his facial expression, every twitch, every gasp, and every moan. You were utterly delirious with the sounds you pulled from the man between your lips, arousal continuing to drench your inner thighs as you hummed around him in approval.
The moment you felt Mingyu start to tremble, you reluctantly forced yourself to retreat, which resulted in a frustrated and unexpected whine from the man himself. It made you pause for a moment, not because you didn’t like it, but because Mingyu hardly ever whined.
Your mouth had wrecked him good… and you were extremely pleased with that.
“Baby, please,” he rasped, his dick twitching as you released him from your lips with a wet plop. He reached for your face, his fingers trailing down to grasp your jaw as another whine left him.
Your lips quirked as you pulled your head back to escape Mingyu’s wandering fingers. Before he could complain more, though, you quickly moved to straddle his thighs once again, hovering your neglected cunt above his drooling cock.
Then without saying anything else you reached down to grab ahold of him and guided the tip to your entrance. Both of you held your breath as the engorged head slid inside, the stretch it caused sending a pleasant burn through your lower half. You placed your hands on his chest for support while you slowly sank further, your eyes meeting Mingyu’s blown pupils as you felt him throb against your walls.
Mingyu’s hands immediately found their way back to your hips, squeezing the flesh roughly as he tried to stop himself from burying his entire length inside in one go. It was so easy to get lost in the feeling of the warm wetness of your walls surrounding him, and he wanted nothing more than to slam his hips up to feel all of you and get drenched in your slick. But he held back for your sake, letting you go at your own pace, even if it meant he was starting to get slightly lightheaded with the way you were squeezing him so tightly.
“So full, Gyu,” you whimpered when your ass finally met Mingyu’s pelvis, his cock now completely buried inside you, filling you up to the point where you felt like you were going to come undone from just that alone.
“You feel amazing, so warm… and wet,” Mingyu sighed dreamily, his eyes lazily trailing over your voluptuous body before they fixated on your swollen clit, his tongue coming out to lick his lips hungrily.
You were not prepared for what came next. One moment, your husband was taking you in in all your naked glory, and the next one of his thumbs had attached itself to your clit, pressing firmly against the little nub.
“W-wait,” you stammered, arousal licking up your spin at the sudden wave of pleasure. “Oh fuck!” you squeaked when he began to move his digit in slow circles. Your hips began to move on their own accord, allowing your body to take the lead as you tried to chase the blissful feeling.
Pretty soon, your debauched moans resounded through the area as you continuously lifted yourself off Mingyu’s lap before firmly sitting back down, your breasts bouncing heavily with every movement. Mingyu ground into you as you rode him, meeting your hips with his own while his thumb rubbed sloppy figure eights into your clit.
Your face was pointed at the sky, eyes clenched shut and your fingers flexing against Mingyu’s burning skin as you drowned in the euphoric sensation. It was more than you could handle – the slide of him inside you, the finger teasing your throbbing clit – it was too much. And Mingyu could no doubt sense it.
“Cum,” his rough voice ordered, after which he slightly increased the pace of his thumb while his free hand came down harshly on your ass.
Something unraveled inside you and exploded at his demand, your nails digging into his toned chest as your silky walls uncontrollably clamped around his cock. You cried out his name, chanting it like an oath as you were completely thrown over the edge. Mingyu fucked you right through it, never letting up and following your jerky movements with his thumb to watch you spasm and convulse on top of him.
“So fucking pretty when you cum for me,” he rasped, delighting himself in your pathetic whimpers, which he recognized as a sign of you becoming overstimulated.
You shook your head frantically. “I c-can’t… too much,” you gasped, letting your body sag as you attempted to pull your husband’s eager hand away from your abused clit.
Mingyu listened, removing his hand to give you a little relief, but that didn’t mean he was done with you yet. He stilled his hips momentarily to bend his knees slightly and planted his feet firmly onto the ground. Next, he wrapped his iron arms around your back, forcefully pulling you down and pressing you tightly against him, leaving you with no way to move.
Then he was back to fucking you, thrusting up his hips in a toe-curling rhythm, this time chasing his own orgasm. Your walls were still fluttering in the aftermath of your orgasm, your creamy slick gathered at the base of his cock and slowly dripping down to his balls, drenching his skin. It only drove Mingyu to fuck you faster, rougher, deeper as he longed to spill his seed inside your greedy cunt.
You were a crying, moaning mess as you let your husband have his way with you. Fat tears had started to roll down your cheeks from the intense overstimulation he was subjecting you to, and you were almost ashamed to admit that you were loving every second of it.
Your senses were going into overdrive, rapidly clouding your brain with lust as Mingyu’s hips frantically bucked into you, the sound of skin-to-skin slapping loud in your ears. A familiar sensation was quickly building up inside you, pulling tighter and tighter until your body began to tremble, and you felt yourself get thrown over the edge for a third time. Your back arched, and the fingers trapped at your sides curled into tight fists as you felt wave after wave of pleasure crash over you.
Mingyu felt like he was drowning. He was delirious with the feeling of your gushing pussy soaking his cock with every thrust, the hot and sticky essence inviting him to release inside you.
“Gyu, please… please!” Your walls spasmed uncontrollably as they tried to milk Mingyu of his cum. You were more than ready for him to fill you up, and you didn’t care if you sounded pathetic begging for it. You’d happily beg for the rest of your life if it meant being able to experience the feeling of your husband’s warm cum spraying your insides.
Mingyu relished in the sounds of your desperate pleas. They spurred him on to put even more power in his thrusts for this final stretch. He was clinging onto you for dear life, hips frantically rutting into you, and little choked moans escaped from his lips as he felt the tension in his stomach near its peak.
“Shit, shit shit, I’m cumming!” His orgasm hit him in full force at once. His hips jolted erratically before he buried himself deep inside your walls with a loud grunt, filling up your puffy cunt with balmy spurts of cum.
Mingyu shuddered as he slowly felt himself come back to reality. He released the iron grip he had on you and let his eyes flutter open to peer down at your naked form. You were a limp mess against his body, no doubt exhausted and fucked out by the sounds of your heavy breathing. Your face was hidden in his shoulder, but he thought you couldn’t look more beautiful than this, splayed across his chest, covered in a thick sheen of sweat that made your skin glow oh so prettily.
“You okay, baby?”
“Well… that was more intense than I thought it would be.” You released a breathy chuckle against his shoulder, feeling perfectly content like this… in Mingyu’s arms, right where you belonged.
“It was,” Mingyu agreed as he soothingly ran a hand up and down your back. “Probably one of the hottest things we’ve ever done, though.”
You lifted your head, briefly meeting his eyes see him already grinning at you. With all the strength you could muster, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to get a proper look at his face.
“Agreed.” You chuckled and reached out to remove the sweaty hair from his forehead.
“So…” Mingyu started, letting his hands slide down to your ass to give it a comforting squeeze.
“So…?” you returned, wondering where this was going.
“Now that we’ve almost reached the end of the day… how did I do?” he asked, a sheepish grin adorning his handsome face.
“Not bad at all, I’d say.” His grin quickly dropped at your disappointing response.
“Excuse me? Not bad? That’s all you have to say? Really?”
You failed to hide a smirk, hoping to cover it up with a fake cough.
“Yep.”
He immediately caught on. “Oh, I see how it is, huh? How about I prove myself some more?” You felt his dick come back to life between your walls. “I got way more tricks up my sleeve.”
“Yah! I was just joking, Gyu,” you sputtered, suddenly fearing for your poor nether regions.
But Mingyu didn’t buy it. He had you flipped over in a second, his huge form now hovering over you as a devious look crept across his features.
“Well, I’m not, so gear up, baby.”
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DAY 3
Waking up the next day was complete and utter hell. It all started when you decided to ignore the alarm Mingyu had so kindly set for you. And then when you still hadn’t made a move to get up after a first, a second, and a third warning from your husband, he decided that ripping off your sleeping bag and not-so-gently dragging you out of bed was the only way to get you moving.
Yeah, you were not happy with your husband… and that was you putting it lightly.
He did redeem himself a little bit with the steaming coffee and egg-fried rice he had waiting for you when you reluctantly emerged from the tent, but it didn’t take away that you’d missed out on a big chunk of sleep… or that you were currently experiencing the effects of that.
Your nightly activities really did a number on you. Mingyu had stuck to his word – that being fucking you till you were no longer able to walk – and only then, when you were completely spent and stuffed full of his cum in every way possible, he’d let you go.
It was some of the best and most exciting sex you’d had – with you being out in the open and all – and you had absolutely no regrets in that regard, but with you currently feeling the way you did, you just wished Mingyu would have taken that into account and cut you some slack this morning.
But no, there was no time for that. After breakfast and changing into some fresh hiking attire, it was straight back to the schedule. No amount of begging or moaning from your side was going to get Mingyu to divert from the itinerary he’d so carefully planned out. Although you hated his persistent nature at the moment, you also admired that about him. He’d gotten even less sleep than you had, again preparing all the food and whatnot, and he still looked like the happiest and fittest person on earth. How was that even fair?
A small consolation was that the lake hike wasn’t as intense or as long as yesterday’s hike. The path was a lot less rocky and sloping, and combined with the slight drop in humidity and the additional break here and there, it made the walk a lot more bearable.
It also allowed you to conserve most of your strength – or well, the little bit of strength you had left. Your body was still sore from all the activities you’d engaged in – both the scheduled and unscheduled ones – and you were pretty certain you’d need a few days to recover from it all. You were hurting in places you didn’t even know could hurt before today. How people managed to do this for more than two days was beyond you.
Fortunately, you were able to push aside some of your pain when you reached your destination, too mesmerized by the view to register anything else for a few minutes.
The lake looked absolutely ethereal.The dark blues and greens of the lake stood out against the bright greens and browns of the oak and maple trees lining it, giving it a deep hue that was further emphasized by the beaming sunrays hitting the clear water.
Small ripples slowly danced along the sides, softly hitting the lake’s edges with every motion due to the soft breeze wafting through the air. There were no sounds aside from the familiar roaring of the cicadas and the heavy echo of birds chirping in the distance, which created a sense of peace and calm you welcomed with open arms.
It was like a page right out of a nature book, only this was very real, and right in front of your nose.
“This is beautiful,” you breathed, hand placed in Mingyu’s as he guided you closer to the lake.
“It is, isn’t it?” He smiled, taking in every single one of your cute expressions as you reacted to the view. “I thought you might appreciate it.”
“You were correct,” you affirmed, turning your head away from the pretty scene to throw your husband a small smile of appreciation.
The two of you stopped in front of a large oak tree, which put you a good twenty meters away from the water. Mingyu crouched down and placed the ridiculously large backpack onto the grass, moving to open it.
“I also hope you’re hungry because I brought a lot.”
“Another feast?” Your eyes lit up. “Hell yes, I’m starving,” you moaned, raising one of your hands to rub at your empty stomach. You then motioned for him to hand you the red picnic blanket he’d just pulled from the backpack.
Mingyu laughed at your eagerness and placed the object into your hands before reaching inside the backpack again. “Alright. Then let’s set everything up so I can feed you, hmm?”
Your stomach growled loudly in response to his statement.
“Me and my stomach agree,” you said, not able to stop the fit of giggles that followed. Mingyu couldn’t hold it in either, laughing along with you and nearly dropping a couple of the Tupperware boxes he was carrying, which, naturally, sent both of you into another fit of laughter.
Once you’d calmed down enough, you got back to work, quickly arranging all the items Mingyu had brought along on the picnic blanket. And when that was all done, it was finally time for the feast he’d promised you.
Oh boy, some feast it was. You didn’t think he’d be able to top yesterday’s lunch, but you were wrong. Mingyu had truly gone out for your final meal. On top of the ssukguk and dallae jeon leftovers from yesterday’s dinner, there were also servings of tteokbokki and bibimbap, kimchi and pickled cucumbers, chocolate cake and grapes, and a whole bunch of your favorite snacks and drinks.
He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d brought a lot.
“I’m now convinced you’re actually insane,” you said as you gawked at the spread in front of you.
Mingyu, who was seated beside you, reached into the container with the tteokbokki and picked up two pieces with his chopsticks.
“I will take that as a compliment.” He chuckled and brought his hand up to your mouth to offer you a bite.
You gladly opened your mouth, instantly closing your eyes as you savored the sweet and spicy flavors coating the chewy rice cakes.
“How did you even manage to do all of this?” you asked when you’d swallowed, your eyes following Mingyu’s chopsticks as he picked up some cucumbers.
“I’m full of surprises, baby.” He winked, about to raise the chopsticks to his mouth. But before he could have a taste, you quickly cut in and stole his bite. “Hey!”
Serves him right.
“How’s that for a surprise?” Your voice was muffled due to the food in your mouth, but Mingyu heard you loud and clear.
“You’re lucky we’re both hungry,” he grumbled with a shake of his head and reached for the cucumbers once again.
You decided to leave it at that, choosing to take care of your empty stomach rather than tease your husband, the man who had worked so hard to put this food together, the man who wouldn’t let you eat your lunch in peace unless he got to feed you. Unlike yesterday, you had absolutely no problem with that. You happily accepted bite after bite of delicious goodness, now more than ever grateful for your caring husband and his incredible, mouth-watering cooking abilities.
The only downside was that he wouldn’t stop feeding you. Despite your claims of being close to exploding, he refused to believe you. He was like a typical grandma, afraid that you would starve if you didn’t finish everything on your plate. While you appreciated his concern, you told him that you didn’t look forward to puking your guts out because you’d eaten more than you could handle. That eventually got him to back down. Your stomach couldn’t be more relieved.
After that little squabble and a quick cleanup, you went back to enjoying the view that was the shimmering, blue lake. If it were up to you, you’d stay here all day, listening to the calming sounds of the water and the rustling of the trees without a care in the world. But you knew that it was only a matter of time before Mingyu would announce your departure.
“Wanna go for a quick swim?”
Okay, maybe it wasn’t after all.
“A swim?” You briefly glanced at the water and then back at your husband, who was looking at you expectantly. “I didn’t pack a bathing suit, though.”
Mingyu leaned back onto his hands, his dark eyes shamelessly roaming your body.
“Who said anything about needing a bathing suit?” he said, his lips slowly tugging into a smirk.
You raised your brows. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”
“And what if I am?” he challenged.
You shook your head and released a snort. “I’d say you’re crazy.”
“Hmm, if I recall correctly, you didn’t have a problem taking off your clothes for me yesterday.”
Right.
“That was different.”
“Oh really? How so?” he mused before popping a grape into his mouth.
“Well… you know. It was jus- because we- it just was, okay?” you stuttered, knowing damn well your argumentation was complete shit.
“Very convincing, baby.” Mingyu snickered. “Just say it if you’re too scared to join me.”
“Yah! Who said anything about being scared?” You glared at the smug look on his face, already feeling your competitive side start to come out at his taunt.
A confused look crossed Mingyu’s face as you abruptly stood up. “Woah, where are you going?”
“What does it look like?” You grabbed onto the hem of your shirt and swiftly pulled it over your head, revealing your black and white sports bra. “I’m going for a swim. Now are you joining or what?”
Mingyu felt his dick kick in his shorts at the provocative look you sent his way.
“Say no more.”
In the next few seconds, clothes were flying as you and Mingyu raced each other. What you had not considered, however, was the fact that your leggings would be a serious obstacle. Whereas Mingyu had no problem yanking his shorts down, you were struggling to take off your final clothing pieces. The tight fabric clung to your legs, putting up a serious fight as you attempted to roll them down.
Meanwhile, Mingyu had just pulled off his underwear and was already sprinting towards the water, leaving you cursing under your breath as you finally managed to tug off the forsaken pair of leggings.
By the time you reached the edge of the lake, Mingyu was already in the water, watching you with twinkling eyes.
“About time, slow poke,” he teased.
You huffed, crouching down to get a feel of the water temperature. “You try wiggling out of a tight pair of leggings before you start calling me names.”
Mingyu slowly moved in closer, his eyes zoning in on the hand submerged in the water. “I’ll pass. I prefer watching you.”
“Of course you d— Gyu!” you squealed, totally ambushed by the hand clasping around your wrist and yanking you forward. You screamed as you lost your balance, landing face-first into the cold, icy water.
Your husband was having the time of his life, his head thrown back and his hand clutching his stomach as he laughed uncontrollably. You emerged a few seconds later, with your hair completely drenched and messed up from your fall.
“I hate you,” you sputtered, shooting daggers at the man in front of you.
“No, you love me.” He pouted, his eyes wide as he grasped your face between his hands.
“Stop giving me those eyes. I can’t believe you just did that.”
He smirked, dropping the puppy act just like that. “I told you I was full of surprises, didn’t I?”
“Little shit,” you hissed as you decided to hit him with a taste of his own medicine.
With a little wiggle, you escaped from his grasp and scooped up a huge handful of water before throwing it right in his face. Then when he was momentarily immobilized, you jumped on him and pushed him under, making sure that every single bit of him was submerged before you loosened your grip.
Mingyu appeared from the water with a loud gasp, his eyes instantly darkening as they settled back on your form.
“Oh, it’s on.”
From that point onward it was a full-on battle between the two of you. The once quiet and peaceful lake district was now filled with your screams and the repeated sounds of water splashing as you aimed for each other. Mingyu wasn’t making it easy for you, using his strength to trap you in his arms at every chance, splattering you with water until you were squirming in his grip.
You were just as ruthless, though, using your knowledge of his body and ticklish spots to lower his guards for the perfect strike. More often than not, it got you a few good splashes in before he regained his composure and the whole thing started all over again. It was easily some of the most fun you’d had in a while.
Currently, you were in the middle of tickling your husband’s underarms, giggling as he writhed underneath your touch, begging for your sweet mercy.
“Okay! Okay! Truce!” he heaved when he’d managed to escape from your clutches.
“Fine.” You chuckled at the sight of his flushed face. “I guess I can cut you some slack.”
“I was doing just fine actually,” he returned, grabbing you by the waist to pull you closer.
You smiled as you hooked your arms behind his neck. “Whatever makes you feel better, Gyu.”
“You’re lucky I love you, baby,” he mumbled, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours.
“I sure am,” you agreed, stealing a kiss from his pillowy lips.
“Remember how I said I’m full of surprises?”
“Uhu…”
His hands moved down to your legs, wrapping around your plush thighs as he wrapped them around his waist. “I got one more.”
You shivered at the way his dick brushed against your clit. “What’s that?”
“Why don’t you let me help get out, and I’ll show you?”
“Okay,” you breathed, already liking where this was going.
Mingyu offered you his hands after he’d hoisted himself out of the lake and you took them without hesitation, your gut clenching at the prospect of yet another surprise. He then led you back to the blanket and made you take a seat.
Your skin was covered in little goosebumps as you lowered yourself onto the blanket. The sudden change in temperature combined with the subtle breeze made you feel somewhat chilly, but it wasn’t unpleasant or unbearable in the slightest.
You waited patiently while Mingyu busied himself behind you, making sure to stick to your promise to not sneak a peek until he’d found what he was looking for.
When he finally spoke again, your body was tight with anticipation, and your mind had gone over about a hundred different possible scenarios – nearly all of them involving Mingyu’s large hands on your supple skin.
“I saved the best for last.” He took a seat behind you, his legs stretched out on either side of you. “Close your eyes, baby.”
You felt a jolt deep in the pit of your stomach as you did what he asked.
“Now lean your head back as far as you can.”
Again, you did exactly as he said. You only stopped moving when the back of your head hit what you assumed was his chest.
“Open your mouth.” His voice was low in your left ear, the deep sound sending a tingling sensation all the way down to your throbbing cunt.
Carefully, you parted your lips. A shaky breath left your lips as you awaited his next move. God knows this was Mingyu’s way of getting back at you for teasing him. It was a possibility you had considered, but you didn’t want to believe that your husband would ruin your good vibes by making you eat something disgusting.
The moment of truth arrived when your tongue came in contact with something… bumpy? And was that a hint of sweetness you detected? You resisted the urge to open your eyes. Instead, you slowly moved your tongue as you dared to explore further, now convinced that this was not one of Mingyu’s stupid pranks.
Feeling brave, you bit down, your teeth sinking into the juicy fruit you recognized as a strawberry. Your favorite. A little moan left your lips as you reveled in the flavors of the berry, the mix of sweet and sour prickling your taste buds in all the right places.
Mingyu watched closely as you enjoyed the treat, the fruit coating your succulent lips with sweet red juices. He never would have thought that the sight of you eating a regular strawberry could be such a turn-on, but here he was, hard as a rock and wishing he was that strawberry.
Not being able to control himself, he moved one of his hands to your chin and lowered his head before pressing his hungry lips to yours. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip to get a taste of the sweetness, and then he pulled back swiftly, which drew a needy whine from your throat.
“Good?”
Your eyes opened and you nodded, licking your lips to clean up the remaining strawberry juices. You didn’t miss the way Mingyu’s eyes flickered to your lips, or the sudden sharp intake of breath and the way his dick twitched against your lower back.
“Want another one?” You never nodded faster in your life.
Mingyu chuckled and grabbed another berry, this time allowing you to keep your eyes open as he brought the bright red fruit to your lips. Your eyes didn’t leave each other as you bit down, the sexual tension in the air only increasing with every fleeting second. The whole act made your pussy tingle all over, and you were having a hard time keeping your thoughts sane as Mingyu looked like he was seconds away from devouring you whole.
A couple of drops of strawberry juice escaped your lips as you chewed, trickling down the corners of your mouth and neck before you could realize it. Mingyu was quick to catch some of the droplets gliding down your neck, slowly trailing his index and middle fingers back up along the same path they came from.
You swallowed thickly when he pushed at your bottom lip. Your mouth automatically opened, your lips welcoming his fingers with a gentle suck while your tongue lapped at the juice he’d collected. Mingyu was a gone man as he watched you with a mouth stuffed full of his fingers. The way you were sucking and licking at his digits reminded him of the way you’d gone down on him just yesterday and the way you’d made him see stars with just a few simple touches. He couldn’t wait to return the favor.
Mingyu pulled his fingers from your hot mouth with a wet plop and immediately replaced them with his mouth, his tongue dancing with yours as his hand slid down to your breast. A shudder filled with arousal racked through you when his fingers closed around your stiff peak, softly tugging at it until your hips started to lift off the blanket.
“Easy, baby,” he grunted as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle to hold you down.
“Please, Gyu,” you wailed, grabbing onto the back of his neck to ground yourself.
His other hand dropped to your stomach, where he started to pinch your supple flesh. “Tell me what you need, baby.”
“Your fingers on my pussy.” You were so wet, that you were pretty sure three of his fingers could slide in without any resistance.
“Yeah?” He slid his hand to the inside of your thigh, his fingers caressing the skin for a moment before moving to circle your quivering nub. “Like this?”
“Shit, yes!” you cried, letting yourself fall back against your husband as you bent your knees up to your chest.
“What else?” he mumbled into your ear, his fingers slowing down ever so slightly as he awaited your answer.
You released a frustrated moan, your wide eyes moving to meet Mingyu’s ravenous ones. “Need you to put your fingers inside me and fuck me hard,” you breathed, feeling heat seep into your cheeks.
Mingyu shuddered against you as you spoke so brazenly. His cock was a leaking mess, dripping embarrassing amounts of pre-cum against your soft back as he thought of the ways he could make you come undone with his fingers. It was enough to get him into gear.
You released a high-pitched squeal as Mingyu gave you exactly what you needed. Two of his fingers greedily dipped inside your dripping cunt, curling against your slick walls until he’d found the spot he knew would make you fall apart at the seams.
“That what you wanted, baby?”
“Yes! Fuck, yes!” You shook, your body drenched with heat as you felt yourself already close from just a few rough strokes of his fingers.
“Listen to that sopping cunt.” Mingyu sped up the pace, his fingers hammering into your pussy with a strength that made the tension building up in your gut nearly unbearable.
“S-shit,” you hissed as a hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to look at the man who was currently knuckle-deep inside your walls.
Mingyu growled as he applied a little pressure. “Cum on my fucking hand.”
And then suddenly you were flying, not able to hold back any longer. A string of curses left your lips as your legs began to tremble like crazy. Your nails desperately clawed at the skin of Mingyu’s neck, needing something to hold on to while the muscles of your vagina violently pulsed against the thick digits that were still pounding inside you.
It was too much, and you weren’t sure your sensitive cunt would be able to keep up in this state. In a feeble effort for mercy, you reached down to push at his strong arm, immediately feeling the way his muscles tightened as you applied some force, his bulging veins taunting you.
“Gyu,” you whined, trying to close your legs around his arm. But he quickly draped his legs over yours and ripped them back apart, his fingers never faltering as they sopped into your pussy.
“Be a good girl and take it,” your husband snarled, leaving you a whimpering mess in his arms.
In an attempt to even the score, you blindly reached behind you to grab onto the cock that had been firmly pressed up against your back this entire time. Your fingers squeezed tightly, sliding up from the base before pressing down on his leaking slit and spreading the gooey pre-cum all over the swollen head.
Mingyu choked on a moan at your unexpected move. The muscles in his abdomen tightened and the fingers locked inside your walls halted momentarily so his brain could register the sudden blissful sensation.
You stifled a giggle, biting down hard on your lip to try and hide your satisfaction.
“You think that’s funny, huh?” Mingyu mused darkly, lightly tightening his grip on your throat.
Oh oh.
You quickly shook your head. “No… no— fuck!”
But it was too late. Mingyu went right back to his brutal pace, pulling moan after moan from your lips while you wiggled in his tight hold. Your hand was weakly rubbing at his cock, your mind way too fogged up from the overstimulation that you could hardly control your limbs. Mingyu didn’t care, though. All he cared about at that moment was your pleasure and making you cum again with his fingers.
It didn’t take long before you reached said ecstasy once more, the pleasure hitting your body like a tidal wave breaking through the shore. A stream of arousal followed with it, gushing out of your cunt and completely drenching your inner thighs and Mingyu’s hand. You tightened your grip on his cock in response, triggering his impending orgasm as he began to shoot rope after rope of hot cum against your back with a sharp hiss.
The both of you laid there for a while, just basking in the warm afterglow of your highs, not saying a single thing as you tried to calm down your racing pulses. It was only when Mingyu’s watch started beeping that he shifted behind you.
“Is it time to go already?”
“I’m afraid so,” He carefully wiggled out from underneath you. “We still have quite some work to do.”
“Ugh, you’re right,” you sighed as you got up too, already dreading having to walk back and pack up.
Before you knew it all evidence of your raunchy sexcapade was gone, and you were back in your hiking gear, ready to make your way back to the camp. Mingyu took your hand inside his large one, giving it a gentle squeeze as he studied you for a moment.
“Ready to go?”
You nodded with a smile, allowing yourself one final look at the lake before you let him pull you along.
“I still can’t believe we did all those obscene things in public, by the way,” you said after a few minutes of walking.
“Oh believe it, baby. We did and it was fucking hot.” Mingyu wiggled his brows.
You laughed at his silliness. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I liked it more than I thought I would.”
“Yeah? Does that mean we might be doing this camping thing more often?” he asked hopefully.
“Possibly.” You shrugged. “It was a definite no at first, but these few days have kinda made me see things differently.”
“That’s the spir—” Mingyu abruptly stopped talking. You looked at him to see his eyes glued to the top of your head.
“What?” you asked nervously, turning your whole body to face him. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”
A grimace took over his features as he slowly raised his hands. “Okay, baby. Don’t panic, but there’s a little something in your hair.”
Dread filled your body.
“What?! What’s in my hair? Oh my god! Oh my god! Gyu, get it out!” you screamed, feeling like you could cry from the immense fear you were currently experiencing.
It took you at least a whole fifteen minutes to recover from the shock. Only after multiple thorough checks of your body and countless reassurances from Mingyu, were you able to calm down enough to resume your hike back to the camp.
“So…” Mingyu started after another few minutes of walking, “about that next camping trip…”
The terrifying look you threw him told him all he needed to know.
“If you think I want to go camping again after that shit, you’re out of your mind Kim Mingyu!”
Oh well, he tried.
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AND THAT’S ANOTHER WRAP!
I’m so glad I managed to finish up this fic and share it with you all!! Hope you enjoyed this next chapter of husband!Mingyu hehe! Would be amazing to hear your thoughts on it 🥹
Feedback/comments/reblogs are highly appreciated!
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elllisaaa · 7 days
Text
TEACHER'S PET - J. YUNHO
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SUMMARY : being a fan of Jane Austen's novels, you should have guessed that your attraction for complicated love stories would put you in trouble at some point. but you wouldn't have imagined that the trouble in question would be named Jeong Yunho - your favourite professor.
-> pairing : literature professor!yunho x student fem!reader
-> words count : 30.4 k
-> genre : college au, smut & angst
-> warnings (w. some spoilers of the plot) : soft!dom!yunho x sub!reader, teasing, dirty talk, praising, marking, hair pulling, doggy, protected and unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, use of 'good girl' and 'slut', oral (f. and m. receiving), deep throating, cum play, manhandling, fingering, begging, riding, semi-public sex, yunho has a big cock, hand kink, facefucking, drunk sex, yunho is calling reader angel (yes, that's a warning), age gap (8 years), mention of fwb relationship w. san, cheating, mentions of family issues, self-depreciation
+ the way i'm depicting yunho does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.
-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language
-> author's note : should i say sorry for the enormous word count ? maybe. will i apologize ? not at all because i'm so fucking proud of this fic. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written, i quite fell in love with reader this time lmaoo. i started the process of the plot back in january, and it took me more than 3 months to write this but it's amazing in my opinion, so i hope you'll like it as much as i loved writting it ! also that is such a detail but yes, prices are in euros in this fic because i'm french and i cannot physically write dollars and not feel weird, i'm sorry, bear with it. i should also say sorry for the angst but it don't wanna either, i already cried to myself when i put it into words, it's your turn to suffer.
-> playlist : older by isabel larosa - white mustang by lana del ray - crazy in love by sofia carlberg - middle of the night by elley duhé - reflections by the neighborhood - daddy issues by the neighborhood - babydoll by ari abdul - easier by bernard park - i love you by billie eilish
-> masterlist | ateez masterlist
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Jeong Yunho had been the big sensation and the object of all conversations since he started teaching at your university. It was during your freshman year that he joined your college as the new professor of British literature. And honestly, just knowing that you wouldn’t be forced to listen to an old man repeating the same story about how he almost won the Pulitzer Prize twenty years ago over and over was already a relief. But the fact that your new teacher was also very attractive did get you even more interested in his classes. 
Of course, at first, you were like all the other girls on campus, gushing over how handsome Mr. Jeong was, and how well the suits he always wore were perfectly fitting his tall frame. But you quickly discovered a dedicated and very good professor. He helped your whole promotion to go over all the things your old teacher should have presented to you, and thanks to him, you passed your exams. So even if you couldn’t ignore that he was very, very hot, you were mostly glad to have a professor as passionate as you about literature - his handsomeness was only the cherry on top. 
Every time you had a class with him, you knew that this was about to be a good day, because they were always stimulating and never boring. And maybe, just maybe it was because you were always trying to contradict him. In your defense, Mr. Jeong always led you to approach a new subject with an interesting or controversial point of view, and you were often disagreeing, or had things to say about it. And since not many people in your class were really interested in British literature and were only here to admire your teacher for one or two hours, it was not rare for him and you to end up debating about anything and everything. And today was no exception.
“- What do you want me to say Y/N ? This is how things are, I can’t change them.
- Then you’ll have to convince me, Mr. Jeong.”
Your professor chuckled while shaking his head. You were always like this, always trying to get him to surrender and admit that you had the right answer. Yunho didn’t really understand if it was because you liked to be right or simply because you loved a little bit of challenge, but either way, he appreciated how attentive you were to his classes, and how you were trying to question everything every single time. It was stimulating for the class, for you, and even for him. 
“- In this precise case, it is not my job to do that. The fact that you have your opinion on the subject is a very good thing, but there is no right or wrong answer. What we are trying to do here is simply to interpret what message Poe wanted to convey, we can never be sure if our interpretation is the one he had in mind. And I would love to continue this debate but it’s time for you to go, so don’t forget to read the extract of Wuthering Heights I gave you and I’ll see you next week.” 
You rapidly packed up your things to run back to your dorms. Friday often meant a girl’s night out with your two best friends, and you wanted to have enough time to get ready. You three always got to the same bar where you met each other, one of the first nights you went out during your first year of college. You crossed paths with Lola first, the barmaid having messed up both of your cocktail orders. And both of you clicked instantly, despite her being two years older than you. At one point, while you were dancing together, you noticed a girl alone being clearly annoyed by a guy who repeatedly tried to touch her. So your new friend and you acted like you knew her and forced the guy to go away. It turned out that the girl you had kind of saved, Dia, was in the same major as you. You ended up spending the night all together and you kept in touch after that.
And despite Lola having finished her studies before Dia and you, she stayed around the city because of her work. So once in a while, you took the opportunity to go out at the bar where you met. And tonight was one of those nights, and after the exhausting week you had, you kinda needed it anyway. Your roommate, Dajeong, helped choose your outfit and you got ready together because she was also going out with some of her friends, chatting about your days and the new rumours about the basketball team. And of course, you had to dress up a little, putting on a skimpy, little black dress that did wonders to underline the curves of your body. During these concert nights you were going to, there were always a lot of pretty attractive men playing instruments, and that kinda got you going. So you didn’t put away the thought of finishing the night in someone else’s bed. 
Dia picked you up to go to the bar where you joined Lola and immediately ordered your favourite drink. It felt good to finally rest after the awful week you had. It all started on Monday, when you slept in and missed your first class of the morning. And because you had to rush to the second, you forgot your lunch at home and the charger of your laptop. On Thursday, you forgot about the work session you had with some of your classmates for a group project and arrived late. And finally one of your professors claimed to be disappointed in you because you handed him your assignment one hour late because you had an unplanned class at the due date. So yeah, you really needed this drink with your friends. 
“- So I didn’t warn you beforehand, but I’m gonna sing on stage tonight !”
You looked at Lola, dumfounded, while Dia squealed excitedly beside you. Your older friend had tried to make her music known for the past year and it was finally starting to work out for her. Lola was incredibly talented, so you were certain that she would succeed and you were also very very happy for her, a big smile stretching your lips as you gave her a hug.
“- Girl ! That’s incredible ! I’m so proud of you, you deserve it !”
Dia joined your hug, the three of you giggling.
“-  I’m so fucking exited, we were waiting for it !”
It was still a little early, but the bar was already filled with people, and even if it was still pretty cold outside, you were immediately hit by a wave of heat as soon as you stepped in. You really loved the atmosphere of these kinds of nights, where everyone was friendly because they were only there to spend a good time. Lola had to go backstage to get ready, but you quickly stumbled on some of Dia’s friends with whom you talked for a while and since the vibes matched, you decided to stay together to enjoy the concert. One guy had particularly tried to get your attention, and you weren’t mad about it with how good he looked. He was very tall, and could seem intimidating but whenever he smiled or laughed, you could see how kind and sweet he was. While he was saying something to one of his friends, you quickly tapped on Dia’s shoulder.
“- Hey, what’s the name of your friend that’s very tall ?”
She answered you with a smirk, and mischievous glint in his eyes when she leaned towards you.
“- Why ? Does he interest you ?
- Maybe. So ?
- His name’s Mingi. Have fun girl.”
You slapped her arm lightly, rolling your eyes at her comment. But truly, you didn’t mind the playful bantering between the two of you, loving it even. You let her go back to her conversation while you offered yourself and Mingi another drink since you had finished your beer long ago. It happened that Mingi was just as interesting as you thought he would be, and you even spent the first few performances of the night simply talking with him, too immersed in the discussion to acknowledge your surroundings. It’s only when Lola got up on stage that you started to pay attention, cheering for her after she introduced herself to the public. 
And honestly, she nailed it, hyping the crowd like she did that for her whole life. Dia and you surely clapped and screamed for her the loudest. Lola came to you as soon as she got off the stage, hugging both of you and thanking you for coming to see her and cheering for her. She looked the happiest when she was singing, and you couldn’t be more proud of her as all of Dia’s friends were congratulating and praising her. And from this point on, you didn’t have many clear memories, only knowing that you got drink after drink, getting more comfortable with each one. 
Usually, you wouldn’t be all over someone you had just met, but Mingi was really a good guy, he was attractive and you were drunk, so you didn’t mind the way he was kissing you shamelessly, only kissing him back and letting him roam his hands all over your body. But as always when you were tipsy, your mind was jumping from one thing to another. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t see neither Lola nor Dia around anymore, all you wanted was another drink right now.
“- I’m gonna get one more beer, want one ?”
Mingi tried to stop you when you got up, stumbling a little while standing on your feet, the world spinning all around you.
“- Don’t you think you already drank enough Y/N ?
- You’re cute worrying about me ! I’m okay ! I’ll be back in a minute !”
You were practically screaming, and even with the loud music and voices of people around you, you were very loud, making your way over to the bar while chuckling to yourself the whole time. You dropped onto one of the stools in front of the bar, ordering yourself another beer. It’s only when you turned your head on your right side that you noticed someone you knew quite well. 
“- Mr. Jeong !”
The said Mr. Jeong was straddled by your loud voice and even more by your body colliding with his as you kind of dropped your weight on him, circling him with your arms as if you were trying to hug him. For a few seconds, your teacher remained frozen in place, not knowing how to react, before his brain seemed to reactivate again, and pushed you off of him, holding you by your shoulders. Only a quick look at your flushed cheeks, lazy smile and glossy eyes was enough for him to guess that you were drunk. 
“- Y/N ? 
- That’s me ! What are you doing here though ? Teachers are not supposed to go out !”
Yunho couldn’t help but laugh quietly at your behaviour. You were always so neat and put together during his classes, always so focused and organised. So to see you let loose like this, wearing a skimpy little dress, obviously very drunk and your speech so slurred it was actually hard to understand you, was really a shock. 
“- You’ll be surprised to know that I have a life outside of being your teacher.”
Yunho knew that he shouldn’t find the pout on your lips cute, but he did. 
“- ‘m not surprised, you too hot to be a teacher.”
He blamed the alcohol for the way his heart started beating faster at your comment, and even more when you leaned against him once again, breathing in his scent. 
“- ‘m so tired… 
- Where are your friends ? Maybe they can get you home.
- Don’t know…”
You were starting to feel really dizzy. And not the kind of daze when you’re just feeling the agreable effects of all the drinks you had, it was the kind of daze when you’re starting to feel bad, when your head starts to hurt and all you want is your bed and silence. Yunho tried to observe the crowd and spot the friends he usually saw you hanging with around campus, but no one was in sight. So he stood up, paying for his last drink, before helping you walk towards the exit. 
“- Where we going ?
- I’m driving you home. You’re clearly drunk and you lost your friends, it’s not safe for you to stay here alone.” 
You were too far gone to be embarrassed about your behaviour, or to resist too much, so you let your professor drag you to his car and help you get inside, even buckling up your seat belt for you. You only find it in yourself to give him your address, and text Dia to warn her that you were getting home before dozing off. Yunho had to wake you up when he parked in front of your dorm. 
“- We’re here, Y/N.”
You whined, claiming you were comfortable and didn’t want to move, that it was cold outside and the heat in his car was far much better. Yunho sighed while getting out of the car. Helping one of his drunk students get home was not really on his bingo card of the week, but he couldn’t risk you getting in a dangerous situation. He opened the car door on your side after having taken off his jacket, handing it to you as he helped you get out of the vehicle. No words were exchanged as you put on the black leather jacket that was obviously ten times too big for you, drowning your silhouette inside of it. But you could feel the warmth that Yunho’s body had left, and it made the cold of the wind outside less chilly. 
“- You will be alright to get inside alone ?”
You nobbed your head, the nap you took during the way back to your dorm having sobered you up a little. Now, all you wanted was to wrap yourself in your sheets because you were starting to feel the second-hand embarrassment of this whole situation. 
“- Thank you Mr. Jeong.
- You’re welcome Y/N, drink water and take a lot of rest, okay ?”
You nobbed once again, feeling your cheeks heating up when he pressed your shoulder lightly. You didn’t find anything to answer so you decided to simply get inside, not seeing how Yunho kept an eye on you until he was sure you got inside, and only did he drive off. When you pushed the door open, Dajeong was not back from her party yet, so you were met with a silence that instantly eased your headache. You rummaged through the drawers of the kitchen to find some painkillers and a glass of water, gulping the medication down before heading straight to your room. You hadn’t the energy to take off your makeup, nor your outfit, slipping in bed with Yunho’s jacket still on. But it smelled good, it was so warm, like a little cocoon you loved to be wrapped into. And maybe that was why you dreamed of him that night.
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The days after this hell of a night, you were hit with the most terrible feeling of embarrassment and guilt you’ve ever felt. Embarrassment because it was definitely what you should feel after having to be driven home by one of your teachers because you were too drunk, and at that, a very attractive and smart teacher - and also your favourite one. Also to be seen in a state like this by him had you mortified. You always tried to remain serious and professional in front of Mr. Jeong, and you never wanted your personal life to interfere like that with your studies. Guilt because he was certainly there to enjoy his own night out and you wrecked that by forcing him to look after you like a little child. You even threw a tantrum because it was too cold, and every time you saw the jacket you even had the audacity to sleep into, you felt even more bad and ashamed of yourself. You didn’t even dare tell Dia and Lola who helped you get home, claiming it was only a guy you knew. 
You also didn’t want rumors to spread. They were fast to go around students, and if you handed Mr. Jeong his jacket back after his class, it would have been enough for people to believe that you two were in a relationship. So you decided to go and see him after his classes in his office, to be sure that you wouldn’t be bothered. You had buried his jacket at the bottom of your bag, as if everyone had X-Ray vision and could see what was inside, walking as fast as you could through the hallways. You had done nothing wrong, but it still felt like it and you had to mentally prepare yourself for the conversation that was going to happen. 
The door was open when you arrived at his office, but you still knocked on it lightly to signal your presence. Mr. Jeong immediately looked up from the assignments he was grading, smiling when he saw it was only you.
“- Come on in Y/N, and close the door behind you.”
You were fairly unable to utter a word, sticking to nodding your head as you did what he told you. Usually, when you came to his office, you would immediately sit down, but you didn’t feel at ease at all today, too shameful to even look at Mr. Jeong in the eyes. 
“- Do you feel better than this weekend ? You didn’t seem very well yesterday either.”
The fact that he was still worrying about you was making you feel even more uncomfortable. 
“- Uh, yes, thank you. Actually I came by to apologise for my behaviour. I was very drunk, and I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. Thank you so much for driving me home, and again, I’m sorry for how I acted and if I said anything disrespectful to you. And here’s your jacket, I washed it for you. And again, I’m so, so sorry.”
You got the jacket out of your bag, putting it on his desk, neatly folded. Your heart was beating unsteady and your breathing was loud. You couldn’t even remember if you actually said anything weird to him, but knowing you and how you had no filter when you were wasted, you surely did. Mr. Jeong stood up to get his jacket back, hanging it on the back of his desk chair. The smile on his lips was reassuring and sweet, and he didn’t seem mad at all, but you couldn’t help the anxiousness from taking over you.
“- It’s not that bad, it has already happened to everyone to be drunk and do stupid things, believe it or not, it happened to me too.
- To bother your teacher because you were completely wasted ?”
Yunho chuckled at your remark, and he was happy to see a small smile spread on your face too. You were always trying to not look him in the eyes since the beginning of the week, and you seemed very embarrassed when Yunho didn’t want you to be. He did that out of kindness, because you were one of his favourite students and also because he couldn’t let you alone when you were in this state, he couldn’t have looked at himself in a mirror if he had let you without anyone to look after you when you were so vulnerable. 
“- Maybe not, but you get my point. It didn’t bother me, and you didn’t say anything strange, don’t worry. We can just forget all about that if you prefer, but I can assure you that you did not do anything wrong Y/N, I’m just happy I was able to get you home safely.”
Your shoulders immediately relaxed, and it was as if you could breathe more easily. You knew that your professor was honest, that he wouldn’t lie to you about something like that. 
“- Thank you so much for taking care of me. I gotta go for my next class now, but really, I’m very grateful Mr. Jeong.
- No problem, just be more careful next time.
- Of course. Have a good day !”
He greeted you back, watching as you left his office and closed the door behind you. And finally, Yunho allowed himself to slump back in his desk chair, sighing loudly. He didn’t lie to you, didn’t tell you that to make you feel better. Except the fact that you did say that you found him hot. That compliment really messed up with his mind. You were always so serious and focused during his classes, and of course, it was obvious you wouldn’t spend your weekends locked up in your room, but seeing you like this was so new, so unusual. The way you looked at him, the way you touched him, the way your dress was riding your thighs up, the way his jacket was now smelling like your intoxicating perfume - the scent of you invading the room little by little. Everything about this was making him see you in a whole different light. 
The only thing Yunho promised himself when he became a professor was to never, ever, find one of his students attractive. Maybe it was because he was young, and much closer to your age when he started teaching, and that he quickly noticed the eyes some of the girls were giving him. Anyway, he swore on his dignity and morals that he would never have this type of thoughts about a student. But now that he got to see you in your skimpy black dress, which was hugging every one of your curves perfectly, while looking him in the eyes and confessing how hot he was may have him reconsidering his decision.
He knew he shouldn’t see you this way, he knew he shouldn’t search your profile on instagram, knew that he shouldn’t look at your photos nor check you out in your pretty little outfits that you loved to post. But he did it anyway, scrolling through your account as if he was a teenager all over again. And when he stumbled over the photos you posted this summer, body on display in your little bikinis, he knew he had to stop before his thoughts started to drift to places he shouldn’t. Because it was dirty, it was disgusting and he shouldn’t think about you, his student, this way. This should have been enough to stop his mind from going back to this night, but it didn’t. And Yunho felt incredibly bad for not being able to control himself.
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You felt a little better since your conversation with Mr. Jeong, reassured that you did not say anything weird to him, and that you haven’t made him uncomfortable. That didn’t ease your mind from the fact that you slept in his jacket and even had the nerves to feel cosy because you were surrounded by his scent. But you tried your best to forget it all, just like he advised you to, even if you had to be honest and admit that you did often think about the way he held you by your waist when he helped you walk to his car. 
You shook your head as you tried to concentrate back on the synopsis of the book you had in hand right now. You decided to go to a book shop with Dia this afternoon after your classes. It was something you loved to do together from time to time, always promising yourself that you won’t buy anything but coming back home with at least one new book anyway. You were not paying attention to your surroundings, entirely focused on the book you were looking at, and you didn’t feel it when someone came up behind you. 
“- I see that you’re very dedicated to my classes Y/N.”
You turned around quickly, not needing to see him to recognize the familiar voice of your teacher. He was standing there, dressed more casually than the usual suits he was always wearing for class, only in black pants and a creamy sweater. You tried not to make the blush on your face obvious as you composed yourself before answering. 
“- Well, your recommendations are always great Mr. Jeong, so I might listen to you once again. But only if it gets me one bonus point on my next assignment.”
Yunho couldn’t help the cheeky smile that spreaded on his face whenever you teased him. It wasn’t the behaviour students should have towards their teacher, but he liked it too much to ask you to stop. 
“- You know very well that I don’t get corrupted this easily. 
- And if I bring you some chocolate ?
- Then I might reconsider your proposal.”
You were ready to add something when you were interrupted by the loud ringtone of your phone. You excused yourself and turned around to answer the call. Yunho didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation with a certain “Sannie”, but at the same time, if it was that private, you would’ve walked away, right ? He wondered if you were used to giving surnames like that to every one of your friends or if this guy could be your boyfriend. But why would that interest him in the first place anyway ? It wasn’t like he cared if you were single or taken. And it was none of his business, but still, the question slipped past his lips when you hung up. 
“- Was that your boyfriend ?
- Oh, no, not at all ! San is my best friend, he has been since we were kids.”
Yunho only nodded, already feeling the second-hand embarrassment of asking such a personal and inappropriate question. He needed to get out of here so you didn’t notice the way his ears were heating up, and you gave him the perfect opportunity to do just that. 
“- I have to go but I’ll get this one. 
- Feel free to share your thoughts about it. 
- I’ll do it, thank you. Have a good day Mr. Jeong. 
- You too Y/N.”
And you left with a warm smile, asking yourself if you would have a stranger interaction than this one in your life. How come that one of the most handsome men you’ve ever met, who also happened to be your teacher, wanted to know about your love life ? You didn’t know how to handle this fact, didn’t know why he asked you that either. But it was messing with your head, making you think about things you shouldn’t, about things you never even considered before this night. Well, that was a bit of lying to yourself. Because you did think about him in this light before, did dream about him touching you in such inappropriate ways for a teacher and his student. But you pushed these thoughts away, not ready to dig into why he was making you feel like that and wouldn’t leave your mind.  
And Yunho couldn’t help thinking the same : how he didn’t see you like that before having you all pliant in his hold, before seeing you wearing your little black dress, before hearing you calling him hot. But if he was honest with himself, he did think that you were pretty during the first class you had with him. He did think on numerous occasions that you were smart and the kind of person he would love to go out with. But he couldn’t. Because he was your teacher, and because he was a lot much older than you. It would be inappropriate. 
Even with all of these considerations in mind, Yunho couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you every time you stepped a foot into his classroom. He tried to be as subtle as possible because he didn't want to make this situation even weirder than it already was, especially for you. Little did he know you did the same, observing him every time he wasn’t looking your way, struggling to not blush whenever you felt his eyes on you. And Yunho kept telling himself that he couldn’t do that, that it was not right to look at you the way he did, to think about the things he was thinking about every time his eyes landed on you. But he couldn’t stop it. It felt wrong, but for some kind of reason, he was unable to forget about you. 
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“- Did the Mr. Jeong hype finally get to your head ?”
You wiped your head towards Dia, heart beating unsteady. She couldn’t know about what happened almost three weeks ago, right ? No she couldn't have guessed, except maybe if someone saw him driving you home. But your friend only chuckled and slapped your arm when she saw the defeated expression on your face.
“- You look like you saw a ghost ! It’s alright bestie, I wouldn’t judge you for finding him handsome, it’s a fact everyone already established.
- Why are you saying that now ?
- Because you’ve become very distracted whenever we have classes with him, and you don’t participate as much as before. Is it because you finally see him like we all do ?”
You groaned and shook your head, but Dia was too close to the truth to not unsettle you. You knew that you did nothing wrong, that it was normal to think that your obviously very attractive teacher was, in fact, very attractive. But you couldn’t kill the guilt creeping in every time you looked at his hands handing back the papers a little too long, or when you caught yourself wondering if his skin smelt as good as his leather jacket did. 
“- First, I’ve never said that he isn’t good looking, and second, I have enough decency to not drool over him during said classes.”
Lie. It was a complete lie. But Dia didn’t need to know that. She didn’t need to know that your professor had invaded your thoughts in a way you didn’t think would be possible, and in a way that was definitely not appropriate. 
“- Decency doesn’t exist when he enters the equation.”
She was not entirely wrong, but you couldn’t let her win, because it would be like admitting to yourself that you did thirst over your teacher, more than you would like to. Luckily for you, Yunho quickly started his class and strangely enough, for the first time since the bar incident, you succeeded in following everything he was saying and not getting too distracted by his hands, or by his smile. 
“- Before I let you go, I wanted to inform you that I decided to create a debate club. I’m aware of what you must all think about these : that they are boring and never pick the subjects you want to discuss. That’s why you’ll be the ones to propose the subjects we will tackle, and you’ll be free to talk about anything you want. It can be music, politics, literature - anything. As long as you respect each others’ opinions, it’s okay for me. If you’re interested, write your name on the sheet on my desk before leaving and that’s all for today. Thank you for your attention, and have a good day.”
Conversations about Mr. Jeong’s propositions were already erupting all around the classroom. You spotted some serious students you already had study sessions with writing down their names, and a bunch of girls who just wanted to check out the teacher for one more hour per week. Dia already warned you that she didn’t have the time to engage in such activities, but you thought it couldn’t be that bad of an idea. After all, you really loved to discuss with people, and this was the perfect occasion to do so. And no, it was not because your professor will be there. Not at all. It only happened that he will animate the whole thing, it was only a coincidence. You got a pen out of your bag and started to write down your name when his now familiar voice interrupted you.
“- I could’ve bet on this.”
You didn’t dare lift your head and meet his gaze, because locking eyes with him in class was one thing - he was far away from you - but having him so close to you suddenly made you nervous. 
“- Am I so predictable ?
- A little, but I’m not complaining. I know that at least one person will actually come and that I will not be alone.”
This time, you had no other choice but to look at him as you had finished writing your name and had no excuse to look at the piece of paper anymore. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this, but your heart still missed a beat when your eyes finally dived into his. You quickly avoided his gaze, pretending to put your pen back in your bag while you searched in your brain to offer him a clever response. 
“- You know me, I’m always here when it comes to debating. 
- I wouldn’t have expected less from you Y/N.”
The way he said your name shouldn’t have made you blush, but it did. You rapidly excused yourself before literally running away from the classroom and all these feelings that shouldn’t invade your mind. It even made you hesitate on your decision to join the debate club. But you didn’t want Mr. Jeong to think that you were not serious. So you went anyway. And even if, as you predicted, not that many people showed up, you still had a good time. You were even able to not think about him in ways you shouldn’t too often. That was until he insisted on giving you all his personal phone number, so he could organise things more easily and give you the opportunity to see museums or expositions you could later discuss on. That was a perfectly sensible decision, obviously.
However, that night when you laid in your bed and couldn’t fall asleep, your fingers hovered over his contact. It was stupid to even think about it. Why would you even send him a text ? And to say what ? Ask him if he had a good day ? Or if he planned anything for the next reunion ? It was stupid, yeah. But you were one click away from sending a text. You threw your phone to the other side of your bed, running your hands over your face. You were so stupid. Stupid for thinking about Jeong Yunho as anything else than your teacher, stupid for thinking that he would even look your way, stupid for thinking that you were any different from all the girls who were swooning over him. You were just like them and even worse. 
The next meeting with the debate club came too quickly for your liking as you were not mentally prepared enough to see the teacher you couldn’t help thinking about all day long. But this was not what occupied your mind today. No. It was this one girl who thought that she was always right just because she said so. Ever since Mr. Jeong announced that the subject was going to be about music and the sense of community it could create, she hadn't shut up, interrupting everyone as if her opinion was more important. And she wouldn’t stop whining about the fact that music was too commercial these days and that there was nothing original anymore, when her playlist was essentially composed of trending songs and Taylor Swift (not that you had something against the girl, you loved some of her songs, but she was far from not being commercial.) And when you tried to argue that, no, music was not only commercial, that there were still good artists and groups that did it because they truly enjoyed and loved making music, she would get mad. Everytime someone else would defend your point of view, she would accuse them of teaming up against her. 
And you were actually a little mad at your teacher for not jumping in and telling something to this girl who was clearly being unreasonable. You ended up saying that you didn’t want to talk anymore, because even if you were not one to give up, you clearly noticed that you couldn’t win this time. You spent the rest of the debate sulking and stealing glances at Mr. Jeong, who was just observing the chaos. You didn’t understand why he would not intervene, and yes, you got that he wanted to let everyone express their opinions, but was it relevant in this case ? You packed up your things rather quickly ; this whole situation put you into a bad mood, and you just wanted to forget it. 
“- Y/N ? Are you alright ?”
His voice straddled you as he came closer to you, letting all the other students go out behind the two of you.
“- Oh, uh, yeah, I’m good. Just a little frustrated, but it’s alright.
- I understand, but this moment is also made for that, even if you’re not agreeing with her, you have to respect it. 
- I know, I don’t have a problem with her not being on my side, I just don’t like it when people victimise themselves to make me feel bad and let them have the last word. That’s not what a debate is about.”
You tried to stay focused on your bottle of water in your hands, and to not stare at him too much. He was wearing one of his black suits once more, and even more since the bar incident, it was doing something to you. 
“- Well, I can’t say you’re wrong, but not everyone here is as mature as you are. You have to take it into consideration. And it is by talking with people like you that people like her will get it and grow up.”
You shrugged, turning your head to the side because you couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. You knew deep down that he was right, but you were too frustrated to admit it right now. 
“- I’ll let you sleep on that Y/N, but don’t let it deter you from coming next time, your interventions are important and I value them. A lot.”
You nodded before saying your goodbyes and quite literally running away from him, once again. He couldn’t make you feel so frustrated you wanted to break something, and the next second made your heart beat like crazy. Because his words surely did. You knew by the way he was often relying on your answers in class that he must appreciate you as a student, but to be aware that he also liked who you were as a person was something else. It was getting bad, really bad, because you couldn’t keep under control the feelings he made appear in you. And you knew it was wrong, knew that he was your teacher, knew that he probably - surely - didn’t feel the same, but you were already in too deep. 
And Yunho couldn’t help thinking the same as he watched you go away. He shouldn’t feel such attraction for his students, and he shouldn’t try to get closer to you, and he shouldn’t try to do all these things that led you to be alone with him. But still, he chose the next subject because he knew he would get a reaction out of you, because he knew it would get you all passionate about it and he loved when you were like this. 
He didn’t miss his shot because you were the first to talk when he announced that today’s session will be about Jane Austen and feminism. Yunho knew she was one of your favourite authors as you often quoted her in your assignments and used her novels as examples, so he was even aware of your opinion on them. Thus as he was regularly doing during his classes, he decided to go against your views, just to see how you would react. It was wrong to do it only to see you get passionate and involved and slightly mad at him - because you both knew that he already told you that he agreed with your ideas. 
“- I understand what you’re saying Y/N, but the fact that Austen never got married but still insisted on talking about marriage in every one of her novels could also show that it was a dream of hers, and not feminism.”
Again, you were feeling so frustrated against your teacher. But this time, it was directed straight to him. You couldn’t figure out why he would do this, nor why he was so dedicated to debating with you in particular, and not with all the other students that were agreeing with you. 
“- On this aspect, her personal life has nothing to do with it. On the contrary, it reinforces what she’s showing. In Pride and Prejudice for example, Lizzie doesn’t accept Darcy’s proposal until he changes and really proves that he loves her. Plus Darcy doesn’t do all these things so she would agree to marry him, he does it only because he loves her truly. She depicts marriage as something you should do out of love, the only happy marriages in her novels are the ones where the two parties are in love with each other. Like Jane and Bingley, and you can contrast with Lydia and Wickham and how their union is never shown as a good thing, for either them or the Bennets’. I think she never got married because she despised the men of her era, and that they wouldn’t meet her expectations, because she wanted a marriage of love, not of arrangement, or relationships or money. That’s why she is showing them so much in her books, because it reflects how she didn’t like the view on marriages during the Victorian era and the sexism she was surely enduring because of her being a writer and not trying to hide it.”
You barely breathed in between your sentences, and when you finally stopped talking, you felt like you just ran a marathon. Mr. Jeong’s gaze never left yours as you spoke, and the intensity of it was making butterflies come alive in your stomach. It was as if you could feel the tension emanating from him, from his eyes staring down at you. He seemed to snap out of his haze when someone voiced out their agreements to your little speech. And after that, he quieted down just as you did. But you could still feel him stealing glances at you, and you couldn’t help doing the same. 
He was wearing another one of his suits - a three piece grey suit, with thin, white strips on it. He had let go of the jacket a long while ago, and had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. And you knew you shouldn’t find that attractive, but you did. You did and it was wrong ; because he was your teacher, and because you were supposed to be a little mad at him for refuting the obvious. 
So like a replay of last week, you stayed back, taking your time to pack up your things and waiting until everybody else left to talk to him one on one. Maybe it wasn’t what a good and well behaved student should do, maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to do when you were feeling so attracted to him. Maybe. But you still carried on with your plan, trying to not get distracted by his handsome face, and his pretty hands arranging some papers on his desk. 
“- Why do you keep on pushing me to justify myself like that ? It’s embarrassing, and everyone was so silent afterwards, it was as if I said something wrong, and it’s not agreeable to feel like you are being ridiculous.”
You never had enough nerves to talk to one of your professors like that, but maybe it was the fact that you had a pretty shitty week, or that the way he was looking at you had you feeling some ways you didn’t want to, but you felt a sudden rush of energy and courage coursing through your veins.
“- You did not say anything stupid Y/N, it was very clever on the contrary. And the reason I keep doing that is because I know you have it in you to argue with me and produce this kind of well organised speech. That’s where I want to bring all of my students, but you can always improve and develop your skills. This is what I’m training you for.
- I’m not practising to go to war, Mr. Jeong. All this is not necessary if it makes us feel bad. And why would you do that in front of other students when we already talked about this in class and they all saw you agree with me ? 
- I told you, it’s only because I want you to be able to justify your answers with precise examples like you did today, because it’s important for your future assignments, for your thesis and even just in everyday life. 
- But you know I’m already able to do all that, so why would you seek out my responses everytime ? It feels like you’re targeting me.”
Your cheeks were heating up as time went on, not only because you felt hot from the way all his attention was entirely focused on you, but also because you were so frustrated you could’ve yelled at him. But you had to remind yourself that he was your teacher and that you couldn’t be that disrespectful, that this was the closest you could get to having an argument with him without getting kicked out of your university. He had come closer to you as the discussion progressed, and the sudden proximity between your two bodies didn’t help with your red cheeks. 
“- Yes, I’m targeting you, because I know you’re capable of coming up with things like this, and that you teach a lot to other people by doing so. I love to see you being passionate and invested in the subjects you’re talking about, it makes it fluid to listen to and to understand. Plus, that’s a debate club, disagreeing with you is my job here.”
You wanted to stay calm and collected so bad, wanted to stay as composed as he always was but you couldn’t help how he heightened all your emotions by his mere presence. And the compliments he was giving you didn’t help you relax either. 
“- Yes, okay, but not when you said you approved my views two weeks ago just to change your mind now and make me look like I’ve been talking nonsense all this time. 
- Don’t rely on me and my opinions Y/N, rely on you and what you’re thinking. Do not let other people dictate what you should think on a subject you know and love. 
- I know that, I’m not dumb, but you’re not just everyone else. You’re my teacher and you know what you’re talking about while I don’t. I’m only making assumptions and theories when you give us facts. It’s not the same. 
-  I don’t know it all, what we're making when talking about books and authors who are not here to confirm or deny is always assumptions. You know that I agree with what you said, you know my opinion on Austen and that’s all that matters. 
- But you made it look like what I was saying was irrelevant, you made me look like a fool and I don’t like it, especially when it’s coming from you.”
The two of you had gotten closer and closer, and you were now facing each other, with nothing in between to separate you anymore. Suddenly, you felt an overwhelming need to breathe in his scent, to take the step ahead that was distancing you from him and cut off the act. 
“- What do you mean especially when it’s coming from me ?”
Your breath accelerated when Yunho stepped forward one more time, getting way much closer than decency would allow. But you didn’t make any movement to escape. Because deep down, you wanted this, you craved this. You saw his hand coming up to your face before feeling his fingers brushing against the skin covering your jaw, leading you to raise your head and dive into his eyes. You’ve never seen him from this angle, but with the light of the late afternoon casting shadows on his face, he had never looked prettier.
“- I asked you a question, Y/N.
- I… It’s inappropriate, I shouldn’t say it, I shouldn’t even think about it.”
Despite your words that should deter him from going any further, he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, smearing your lip gloss. You could hear your own heart beating, aware of every breath you took and every movement of your body. When your eyes met his once again, it was as if adrenaline was spreading through your veins, a sensation that gave you the impression that you were flying. Your gaze flicked down to his lips one second too long for him not to notice and that was Yunho’s last straw as he let his hands drop down to your waist. 
“- I don’t think I should think about what is on my mind right now either.”
As if it was the hint you needed, you grabbed his neck to pull him down to your level. Your lips brushed against his one time, and the next time they met, it was for a real kiss. Yunho squeezed your waist tighter, tugging you closer to him as he let his desire take over his reason. He shouldn’t do that, but your lips tasted like the vanilla chapstick you were always putting on during his classes and that he was dying inside to kiss away. 
It was like your mouth had a mind on its own, kissing your teacher like your life depended on it. You weren’t thinking about the fact that anybody could come in and interrupt you, you weren’t thinking about the fact that what you were doing was forbidden. All you felt was the softness of his hair between your fingers, his large hands on your lower back, and his tongue playing with yours. It all felt too good to stop. 
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“- Where are you going ?”
You were putting on your shoes when Dajeong’s voice interrupted you, a knowing smile on her lips. She knew very well where you were going every time you left late at night, during the weekends, she just wanted to tease you.
“- San invited me over, I’m gonna stay the night.
- Of course you are.”
She gave you a little slap on your ass before going back to the series she was watching on the living room TV. Usually, you would’ve laughed or been as excited as her to see your friend but not today. When San had proposed to you to come to his apartment to fool around, you weren’t surprised. It happened often, when neither of you wanted to be alone, when you needed someone to relieve the pressure. And most of the time, you really enjoyed the time you spent together, fooling around without any feelings. But tonight, it was for more selfish reasons that you said yes. 
Because when San was touching you, you were only able to think back to how Yunho’s fingers squeezing your waist felt. And when he kissed you, you could only think back to the way Yunho’s lips made your whole body come alive again. And when he fucked you, you wished it could be Yunho instead. You felt bad, both because you were using your friend to quit thinking about someone else, and because that someone else was your teacher. 
It shouldn’t have felt so good to kiss him, it shouldn’t have sparked a flame and made you crave more, it shouldn’t have made you want to drop to your knees for him. You should’ve been disgusted with yourself and what you did, you should’ve been apologising to him the very next day. But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate this moment, nor to forget it. It was engraved in your memory, enough for you to search him up on social media even when San was holding you in his arms, both of you still naked. It was wrong, once again, but you already crossed the line too many times to count, so who cared anymore ?
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For a few weeks, you didn’t even dare to look at him too long, afraid to remember once again how delicious his lips felt on yours. And you didn’t feel his eyes following your every movement like you grew used to. It felt weird, to not have his gaze focused on you, and to see him avert even looking your way during each one of his classes. You stopped going to the debate class, and you stopped answering every one of his questions during lectures. 
And Yunho felt like he had fucked everything up. He should’ve stopped when he started to be attracted to you. He should’ve stopped when he started to seek out your presence even more. He should’ve stopped before kissing you. After you ran away last time, he considered sending you a text to apologise, and ask you to not say anything about what happened. But he didn’t, he wanted to let you breathe and have some time for yourself. Except that he started to get worried about the situation. You hadn’t tried to talk about it with him, you hadn’t come to the debate class since this incident. He spent all his time trying to figure out how to handle the mess he created. That was the question going through his mind once more when you stepped into his classroom for the debate club, looking around to see that no one except you and him were here. 
“- Uh… I’m sorry, did I miss something ?”
Yunho turned to you, and for the first time in weeks, he really looked at you, taking in your silhouette and your outfit - one of the little skirts you loved so much, and your signature black, thigh boots. He should’ve been stressed to see you again, anxious to have to talk to you about this kiss. But instead he felt relief wash over him, and it was like he could breathe again. He looked down at the paper covering his usually organised desk, realising that he had to answer you, even if his voice was shaking a little. 
“- I cancelled today’s reunion, I wasn’t feeling very well.”
You nodded your head, looking around the classroom as if you were searching for something. You debated in your head if you should address the subject with your teacher or not. You were too nervous to talk about it, afraid that he would act like it didn’t ever happen, or worse, as if it didn’t mean anything to him. You were about to go away, to run away, like the other time, when you heard his voice behind you, loud and clear. 
“- Wait ! Please, wait. We need to talk.”
You hesitated for a few moments, your hand hovering above the doorknob. Yunho saw your arm drop by your side before you turned around, taking some steps in his direction, and he was already relieved that you weren’t going to find him disgusting or scream at him. He didn’t need much time to figure out what he was going to tell you, having replayed this exact scene again and again in his head, too many times for his own good. 
“- I have to apologise for what happened last time. It was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, or to scare you away. And I’m also sorry for kissing you like that, it was wrong of me, I should’ve never done that. We can forget all about it, or you can do whatever you want because I’ve done enough to make things worse.”
You stayed silent, for seconds that felt like hours for Yunho. He prayed inside that you were going to forgive him, that you were going to tell him that it was okay, that you would simply not talk about it ever again and let him feel guilty about this for the rest of his life. 
“- It’s okay Mr. Jeong, it was a mistake, it could’ve happened to everyone. And I have some parts to take in this too. But I understand. It was a mistake anyway, it didn’t mean anything.” 
It didn’t mean anything. These were the words he unconsciously hoped you wouldn’t pronounce. Because even if he tried to deny it, it meant something to him. It meant so much that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It meant so much that everytime he sat at his desk, he thought back to the moment he kissed you. It meant so much that even weeks later, he still didn’t forget the taste of your lips, the feeling of having you so close to him. And he craved it. He needed it again. 
“- It’s okay if you want to think about it as a mistake.
- Why are you saying that ?
- Because for me it wasn’t.”
His eyes crossed yours, enough for him to see this little spark he noticed before he captured your lips last time. Maybe it wasn’t only a mistake for you either. Maybe he didn’t fuck it all up. Maybe he still had a chance to make this right, if there was any way to make all of this right.
“- It did mean something to me. I… I haven't stopped thinking about it. I can’t focus on anything else other than you.”
It was as if your breath was knocked out of your lungs again. He did that too much lately. But the intensity with which he was staring at you and your lips, and his confession had your heart feeling weak. And surely, you shouldn’t indulge in your fantasy. Surely, you shouldn’t let yourself get seduced by your teacher. But you were already in too deep, and you couldn’t ignore anymore the way he was making you feel. 
“- I can’t either. I think… I think you should kiss me again, maybe it’ll help.
- Maybe you’re right.”
Yunho bypassed his desk, and you joined him, throwing yourself in his arms. He cradled your face between his hands, and this time he didn’t hesitate when he put his lips on yours, sighing in relief when the taste of your vanilla chapstick invaded his senses again. And the way you were tugging at his suit jacket to pull him closer to you told him everything he needed to know. 
“- Fuck… I missed you so bad Y/N, thought I had messed up everything.”
You stared up at him, now able to see the lust, the desire he had for you going through his brown eyes, and it made your inside flip. You had dreamt about this so much, even if you would’ve rather died than admitted it. But it was true. You were dreaming about having him so close to you, about having him tell you how much he wanted you, about having him just like this. 
“- You didn’t, not at all.”
That was all the talking that was made. Because you already talked too much, and even if he loved hearing your soft voice, all Yunho needed right now was to taste you again, to drown himself in your body and your addicting, intoxicating scent. You didn’t stop him when he reached for your thighs to lift you up and drop you on his desk, not caring about the assignments sheets you were sitting on. 
You discovered the way his lips against yours felt again, savoured the way his tongue played with yours again. And you loved it just as much as the first time, maybe even more. Because this time, you were truly desperate to feel as much as him as possible. You reached to grab his waist, spreading your legs and bringing him even closer to you. And Yunho complied, because he was just as desperate to finally have you all for himself. He let his hands wander from your back to your thighs, and feeling up your bare skin under his fingers was already driving him crazy. 
You tilted your head to the side when Yunho displaced his kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your jawline and then the side of your neck. He was almost devouring you, but you weren’t complaining : it was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed. You felt his hands creep up higher, reaching for the hem of your skirt, and his hot breath hitting the now wet skin of your neck. 
“- Do you know how bad I wanted to do this every time you walked in my classroom wearing those skirts and these boots ? Do you know how hard it was to not think about doing exactly that whenever you were looking at me ?”
You let out a moan, not really knowing if it was because of what he just told you or because of the fact that he just gave you a hickey. Your heart was beating too fast, adrenaline rushing through your veins as Yunho kissed down your clothed-covered body, making his way to where his hands were still laying. But it was only when he dropped on his knees and pushed your legs apart some more that you realised what he was doing, your words getting stuck in your throat and being replaced by a pathetic whimper when he kissed the inside of your left thigh instead.
“- Is that okay ?
- Y-Yes Mr. Jeong.
- Call me Yunho, will you ?”
You quickly nodded your head, already far too gone because of his feather like touch everywhere except where you needed him the most. 
“- Good girl.”
And as if it wasn’t already enough to get another noise out of you, he pushed your skirt higher up your thighs, revealing your soaked panties to his hungry gaze. Immediately, he dived in, licking a strip of your arousal through the material of your underwear. This time, another moan escaped you and it encouraged Yunho to push the piece of clothing to the side and taste your juices for real. The groan he let out against your folds had you shivering ang trying to close your legs around his head. But he was holding them with an iron grip, making it impossible for you to move. 
You threw your head back when he sucked on your clit for the first time, one of your hands flying to take a hold of his hair, keeping him just where he was. He ate you out just like he kissed you - hungrily, like a starved man, like it was his last meal. And you were loving it all, trying to keep down your noises because anyone walking by the classroom could hear you and decide to walk in, and you could get in trouble. But the thrill of getting caught was making everything feel so much better. 
“- Feeling good, angel ?
- Yes, so good, don’t stop please…”
The nickname had your legs trembling in no time, and the way he was lapping at your cunt had you close to the edge already. You could feel your pussy clenching around nothing as he sucked on your clit again, making more of your juices come out that he didn’t waste any time licking up. The force with which he was holding your thighs open made you wonder if he could use the same strength to put you in all the positions he wished, if he would use the same strength on you to make you unable to move and fuck you until you passed out. 
“- Yunho… I’m close…”
He hummed against you, doubling his efforts to bring you to the edge. He didn’t need to do much, because you had been waiting for this for too long, and because he felt too good to resist. As you felt your orgasm wash over you, your hand that wasn’t busy in his hair gripped the first things you could reach - one of the paper scattered on his desk, and you couldn’t even feel guilty about the way you crumpled it between your fingers, the rush of pleasure taking over you so strongly you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else. 
When you had regained enough consciousness for your legs to support your weight again, Yunho helped you come down off his desk, his hands not leaving your waist even when you were standing in front of him. You smiled when you saw how much you had messed up his hair, as they were going in every direction, and you tried to smother it a little. 
“- Let me see you this week-end if you are free. I want us to talk, and I want to take my time with you, make you understand everything you make me feel.”
And you agreed. Of course. But you started to regret it when you found yourself all alone, in the room of the hotel Yunho had sent you the address of. You were aware that you couldn’t just welcome him at your dorm, or go to his apartment either, because there were risks that someone would recognize you. So here you were, waiting for him. Despite what had happened earlier this week, it still felt incredibly wrong to be there, to do what you were about to do. You looked around the room, where nothing felt familiar and everything felt odd, as if you shouldn’t be here. You were almost ready to leave when the door opened and Yunho entered. 
He was dressed in a pair of black pants, some sneakers and a beige pullover. His casual outfit clashed with the slightly revealing white dress you were wearing underneath your trench. And you felt ridiculous for thinking that putting on something like this was appropriate, though nothing about this situation was appropriate. 
“- I’m sorry, I couldn’t find anywhere to park my car.”
Yunho’s voice broke down the heavy silence hanging in the air, but it didn’t dissipate the strange atmosphere. The room was filled with tension, with unspoken words, with something dangerous and forbidden, but so tempting. 
“- It’s okay, I haven’t been here for long.”
The moment was awkward, neither one of you knowing what to do with themselves. You couldn’t tell him that you were about to leave when he arrived. And he couldn't tell you that the real reason he was late was because he hesitated before coming. But all it took was one eye contact, one look a little too insistent at each other for your lips to find themselves once again, as if they knew better than yourselves what you wanted. And suddenly, nothing felt weird anymore, nothing felt wrong anymore, and everything was finally fitting perfectly - from the way he was holding your waist, to the way the skin of his neck felt under your fingertips. 
“- I missed you.”
The words he whispered against your lips made you feel everything you’ve been needing without knowing it. And you thought that maybe, this wasn’t such a big mistake. And when Yunho’s hands found their way underneath the skirt of your dress to caress the soft skin of your plush thighs, your brain disconnected, letting your emotions control you instead. You got rid of your trench, the material falling to the ground and soon joined by his jacket. You didn’t resist when he grabbed you by your waist to hold you flush against him and kiss you again, finally letting your hands slip under the hem of his pullover and touching his skin. Once again, the way he was kissing you left you dizzy, unable to think about anything other than him. 
“- This dress… 
- Do you like it ? Or is it too much ?
- Fuck, no, it’s…”
He took another look at the way the white tissue was hugging all your curves just right, underlining your silhouette and making you look like an angel. And the fact that you dressed up just for him made his hunger for you grow even more. So when he felt the urge to kiss you again, and again, and again, he gave into it, like he had wanted to for so much longer than he thought. 
“- It’s perfect, you’re beautiful.”
You wanted to compliment him right back, but he didn’t give you enough time to do so, mingling his tongue with yours instead. And you didn’t complain, because you couldn’t get enough of the taste of his lips, of the way his big hands were guiding you to sit on the bed, of the way he was looking at you. You watched closely as he got on his knees to get you rid of these thigh boots that were driving him crazy. Then, he helped you out of your dress, revealing your white lingerie set. 
You thought you would’ve been shy, or embarrassed to let him see you like this. But all you felt right now was desire, and confidence. You smiled when you saw him lick his lips while staring down at your body, and while he wasn’t paying attention, you started to unbuckle his belt. Yunho let you do what you wanted, obeying when you asked him to take off his pullover. When you managed to get rid of his pants, you finally allowed yourself to properly drool over him.
You looked up at him from your sitting position on the bed, while he was still standing in between your legs. It was like crossing his gaze at this precise moment made you realise how real all of this was, and you were hit with the fact that you were really going to fuck with your teacher. But you couldn’t find it in you to fight the feeling anymore. It was too late anyway, you couldn’t go back even if you wanted to. 
So you did nothing to stop him when Yunho pushed your shoulders so you would lay on the bed. You did nothing to stop him when he started to kiss your neck and covered the skin in his marks. You did nothing to stop him when his hands began to roam all around your body because he couldn’t choose only one spot to touch and focus on, because he needed all of you. 
“- I thought you wanted to talk.”
But with the way your fingers were threading through his hair as he massaged your breast over your bra, you definitely weren’t up to talk either. 
“- We’re gonna talk, but after I’ve fucked you.”
He punctuated his sentence by pushing your boobs out of your bra and leaning down to suck on your right nipple. And you couldn’t contradict him when all you were able to do was moan and ask for more. Yunho slowly made his way down to your panties, kissing every part of your exposed skin until he could remember every mole and imperfection of your body. And by the time he took off your underwear, you were already dripping wet and you couldn’t breathe properly anymore. 
“- Please Yunho, please don’t tease…
- Why’s that angel ? You need me that bad ?
- Yes, yes I need you, I want you.”
Finally hearing it from you and not from the dreams he was making did it for Yunho as he searched for a condom in his jacket’s pocket, while you were throwing away the last pieces of clothing separating your skin from his. And you couldn’t help admiring him and his tall frame, his sculpted back, the veins in his hands and arms, his abs slightly peaking out. Everything about him, every inch of him was perfect, made by the Gods. 
And you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock either, following his every movement as he got rid of his boxers and put the condom on. It was big, but just as pretty as him, and you already knew he would fill you up just right. When he was close enough to the bed again, you grabbed his hands, pulling him to lay on top of you and kissing him like it was the last time you could taste his lips. 
“- Please Yunho, fuck me…”
And he couldn’t do anything else than do it, sliding right in with how wet you were even if you could still feel the way his cock was stretching you out. But you couldn’t help the moan escaping you when he bottomed out, nor could Yunho stop himself from groaning at how tight you were clenching around him. 
“- Feeling so good around me angel, like you were made for me.”
You were ready to answer, but the force with which he thrusted inside of you stopped you from doing so, uttering a strangled noise instead that was quickly replaced by endless whines and moans as Yunho started to fuck into you. It was as if he knew exactly how to make you feel good, as if he already knew your body like the back of his hand. He found his way to your waist again, pinning your hips down to the mattress so he could do what he wanted, fuck you like he had been wanting to for far too long. 
You could feel your mind drifting far away as all the tension you accumulated these past weeks left your body, washed away by pleasure and desire, washed away by the way Yunho was looking down at you with hooded eyes, lips parted and letting out the most sinful sounds you’ve ever heard. But you needed to feel him even closer to you, impossibly closer to you. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him down against you. He reached for your legs, guiding you to bend them more until he could hit this sweet spot that made your head fall back with a cry of his name. 
“- I’m not gonna last long angel, been waiting for this for too long. 
- Me too, I’m close, please… 
- You sound so hot when you’re begging.”
You made sure to remember this piece of information before abandoning yourself to the feeling of his cock hitting all the right spots, and of his skilled fingers teasing your clit, the combination making you clench around him impossibly tight as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Your release triggered Yunho as he buried his face in your neck, groaning about how good you felt while filling up the condom with his cum. And the crazy thought of him filling you up instead crossed your mind, and it made the feeling of slight overstimulation even more intense. 
You were so out of it that you almost didn’t feel the moment when Yunho got up to throw away the condom. You had purposefully decided to not think about all the consequences that what you just did implied, you just wanted to enjoy this a little longer. So when he came to lay down with you again, you got closer to him immediately, like magnets who couldn’t resist the attraction. His fingers brushing against your cheek encouraged you to turn your head to the side, diving in his hypnotising brown eyes. You stayed like that for a moment, simply looking at each other without saying anything. And as if it was the only thing your bodies knew how to do, you joined your lips again. 
This time, it was slower, more sensual. If before you were devouring each other, now you took your time to savour the taste of his lips and tongue, to appreciate the way his hands were gliding on your skin, tracing invisible patterns on your lower back. It felt so much more intimate than what all this should have been, but it was too late, so you might as well fuck it all up completely. 
This time, Yunho didn’t rush anything, letting you decide on the pace. He let you do what you wanted when you got on top of him, let you deepen the kiss, he let you caress and discover his body. Your kisses wandered from the corner of his mouth to his jawline, going down to his neck, his collarbone, his pecks, his abs, his v-line, careful not to leave any marks on him. You could hide the single hickey he gave you, but you didn’t want to take any risk. When you reached his inner thighs, his hands had made their way to your head, his fingers tangling between the messy strands of your hair. You looked up at him, the desire pouring from your eyes making his heart beat faster. 
“- Can I ?
- Do whatever you want, angel.”
You smiled before you resumed your soft kisses along the skin of his thighs. But this time, you let them go up to his hardening dick. It was even prettier up close - and you’ve never thought you would say that about a dick one day, but you’ve never thought you would fuck with your teacher either. You kissed his length from the tip to the base, before running your tongue along the path you had traced. The action got a gasp out of Yunho, and you could feel him staring down at you as you kitten licked his flushed tip a few times. You wanted to take things slow, to remember this for as long as possible, but you were craving his taste, craving to feel him even more so you just took him into your mouth. He was big to say the least, and you could feel him, heavy on your tongue, stretching your throat as you started to bob your head up and down, stroking with your hands what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.
Yunho watched you intently, mouth slightly open and letting out sighs and grunts because you just felt that good. The sinful vision you offered was enough to make these weeks of mentally torturing himself totally worth it. Maybe he shouldn’t love the way you were making him feel, maybe he shouldn’t love the way you were whining around his shaft, maybe he shouldn’t love the way saliva was spilling out from the corners of your mouth. But he couldn’t care less when he gripped your hair harder and you moaned around his cock, eyes watering and nails digging into the skin of his thighs. 
“- Shit angel, you’re taking it so well. You’re so good to me.”
You hummed around him once more, resisting the urge to gag around him, relaxing your throat until you could take all of him in your mouth. You felt Yunho sit up straight, so he could get a better look at the way his cock was sliding in and out of your lips with ease. The sight was truly mesmerising, and he wanted to engrave it in his memory. 
“- I want to fuck your throat so bad, angel. Will you let me ?”
The pleased sound you let out after he grazed your scalp a few times let him know how willing you were to do just that. Yunho pulled on your hair roughly, forcing you to take all of him, until your nose was rubbing against his stomach and your hands were desperately pawing at his thighs. His thrusts were slow but hard, just what you wanted, just what you needed. 
“- You’re such a good girl Y/N, fuck, you’re going to make me cum. I can do it inside of your pretty mouth, right ?”
You agreed with strangled noises as best as you could with the way he was ruining your throat, but it was enough for Yunho to understand and a few seconds later, he buried himself as deep as he could one last time, cumming down your throat with a loud moan of your name. You did your best to shallow everything, some drops of the sticky substance spilling out. Yunho didn’t waste time picking them up with his fingers, sliding them between your lips instead of his cock, commanding for you to lick them clean, which you gladly did. When he finally let you breathe again, your throat was sore, but you were so wet you could feel your juices sliding down the inside of your thighs. 
“- Open your mouth for me angel, yes just like that. Good girl.”
Yunho grabbed you by your throat bringing your face closer to his and kissing you messily. He didn’t care that he just came into your mouth, he didn’t care that he could still feel his own taste on your tongue as you made out with him, on the contrary, it made everything so much more intense, so much better, so much more special. 
“- Was it good ?
- It was a perfect angel, you’re perfect.”
His hands slid down from your neck to your ass, guiding you to sit on his lap. His touch made you shiver, your back arching unconsciously. 
“- Want me to return the favour angel ?
- Yes please, I want your fingers…”
Yunho pushed you so you would lay down on the bed again, his fingers immediately dipping to your core, brushing lightly against your clit. His fingertips glided with ease against your slit, collecting your juices and spreading them everywhere. And you were hypnotised by the sight, thinking about how well his long fingers would fit perfectly inside of you, how they could reach your sweet spot so easily. 
“- You’re so wet, Y/N, you’re dripping on my hand.
- Please, Yunho…”
The way you were begging for him, the way you were calling his name, the way you were grabbing his biceps, trying to entice him in finally pushing his fingers inside of you - everything was driving him crazy, you were driving him crazy, and he was convinced that he didn’t want all of that to ever stop. His gaze was fixed on your face scrunching up with pleasure when he finally put one finger inside of your clenching pussy. 
“- Feels good ?
- Yes, so good.
- You want another one ?
- Please…”
Yunho bit his lip when he watched you take his second finger with ease, relishing in your sweet voice moaning at the way he was able to reach so deep without making any efforts. You were being so good, and he didn’t have to do anything for you to do so. You were pleading for him so easily, like it was natural, and that was making him feel even more dizzy with want and desire for you. He started to pump his fingers slowly, the squelching sounds from your wet cunt echoing through the room along with your whimpers for more. His other hand creeped up to your thigh, making sure to keep them open. Pleasure was clouding your mind, but your eyes were unable to leave the sight of the veins bulging in his forearms as he fingered you restlessly, thinking about all the ways he could control you, about all the positions he could put you in if he wanted to. 
And when it all started to feel too good, you plopped down against the pillows, not able to hold your own weight anymore from how his fingers were making you feel. Whenever he was curling them against that one spot, your brain turned to mush, and you could only whine and cry for more. You closed your eyes, already feeling close to your relief, but not wanting him to stop. 
“- Yunho… 
- What do you want, angel ?
- I-I want you to fuck me again, please…”
He didn’t let you have any time to think as he bent down to kiss you again, as a reward for being so good to him, so good for him, so perfect for him.
“- Cum on my fingers first, and I’ll fuck you as many time as you want, okay ?”
You nodded energetically, too turned on to think about anything else that wasn’t him. He let down your thigh to circle your clit, efficiently bringing you to your climax in seconds. Your nails dug into his biceps as the rush was taking over you, clenching around his fingers and moaning so loudly he was certain that the people in the room next to you could hear you scream his name. But he loved it, he was loving all of this a little too much. 
But Yunho didn’t ask himself more questions as he got up to find another condom in his pockets. He didn’t dare interrogate why it felt so good when he entered your pussy for the second time. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know why hearing you moan his name again and again made his heart beat faster. All he wanted right now was you, all he needed right now was you and your perfect body. 
This time, he wanted to feel you, to really feel you. So he purposely slowed down his thrusts, and even when you wrapped your legs around his waist, all he did was to suck another hickey in between your breasts. It was frustrating, but it also felt insanely good, the type of pleasure that made you unable to think, that made you go to another world because it just felt that good. You knew you were babbling incoherently, mewling for him to go faster, but you were already too far gone to care about how desperate you must look. 
In the heat of the moment, Yunho didn’t think twice before grabbing your wrists and pinning them down to the mattress, but you only whined and clenched around him tighter as an answer. And that made him lose control, his thrusts becoming more sloppy, without any rhythm, because you just felt that good. 
“- Yunho ! I’m gonn- Ah ! Oh my god…
- Cum for me angel, fuck, let me hear you.”
His words pushed you over the edge, the overstimulation from your two previous orgasm making this one feel even more intense and fulfilling. Your moans were high-pitched, but you couldn’t keep your voice down, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else than Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. You could hear him groan as he pulled out, throwing the condom away to pump himself on top of you. He only needed a few seconds to cum on your chest, the white fluid soon covering them and even that felt good. 
You felt so out of your own body that you almost didn’t register when Yunho grabbed some tissues to clean your skin. But the ringtone of your phone was like a brutal reminder that this was only a little bubble that couldn’t last forever. You got up from the bed to answer your phone, Dajeong on the other line reminding you of a gathering with some of your friends that you had completely forgotten, too focused on Yunho and what you just did. As soon as you hung up, you started to put your clothes back on. The awkward silence from before was coming back, but you didn’t want to end it like that. You wished you could’ve stayed with him a little longer, but you had to be realistic : you weren’t his girlfriend and you’ll never be. But when he grabbed your arm and kissed you passionately while you were fully dressed up and he was only wearing his underwear, it felt exactly like that. 
“- Text me later, okay ? I still want us to talk.”
This was becoming too serious for you and you could feel your heart beating too fast for your liking when he cradled your face in his hands to force you to meet his eyes. 
“- So you want to see me again ?
- How could I not ?”
You simply smiled and kissed him again before you left. Your legs were still weak, and when you looked at your reflections in the mirror of the elevator, it was like what you did was written all over your face - in your smudged lipstick and your ruffled hair. But it felt too good, and you were already addicted. You knew it would not be easy to stop, but you preferred to pretend that it could last forever for now. 
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You were afraid that everything would feel weird, that you wouldn’t even dare to look at him, or that maybe he would be the one putting an end to all of this. But he didn’t. And the way he was looking at you during his classes could only mean that he craved you just as much as you craved him. And stealing glances at each other was basically all you were able to do for the whole week, because you had a ton of assignments to work on, and because he had too much work. Both of you agreed through text that it was too risky to do anything on the campus, that nothing should happen again in his office. 
However, that didn’t stop your mind from coming back to when he ate you out on his desk, or to him fucking you, or to the way his cock was feeling so heavy on your tongue. And that didn’t stop Yunho from thinking back to your plush thighs clenching around his head, or to your taste, or the way you were screaming his name when he was hitting the right spot. Every night when you came back from your classes, you laid down on your bed, trying to make the aching in your core go away, but the only thing that could satisfy you was him, and you knew it. 
Your frustration reached its peak on Friday when Lola cancelled your night out because she had to work early the next morning. You knew it wasn’t her fault, that it was her colleague for calling in sick just so she could go see her boyfriend, but it still annoyed you, and it was the cherry on top. This whole week would have been stressing enough, but the fact that Yunho made eye contact with you whenever he could, and that he purposefully brushed his fingers against yours every time he handed you some documents added to your irritation. 
You didn’t think twice when you sent him a text, asking him to join you to the hotel because you needed him badly. You didn’t feel ashamed of how desperate and needy you were, because you were too horny to care about the fact that you shouldn’t miss him so much after only one week of not seeing each other. And maybe Yunho should have resisted more but he longed for you, he had wanted you all week and he couldn’t contain his desire anymore. 
This time, he didn’t even greet you when he entered the hotel room, going straight for your lips and taking control of the kiss, devouring your mouth as if you were his oxygen. Maybe you should've talked before doing this again, but lust was clouding his and your mind, none of you thinking about anything else than releasing the tension. 
Soon enough, the floor was covered in your clothes as Yunho manhandled you on your knees, ass up and face down in the pillows, two of his fingers already buried deep inside of you. If last time, he wanted to take his time, today he just needed to ruin you, to break you down, to see you cry for him. And that was exactly what you wanted him to do, what you needed him to do to you. Your brain had already been disconnected, the words coming out of your mouth against your will. 
“- Please Yunho fuck me, please wanna feel you raw, want you to fill me up, please…”
His fingers stilled inside of you for a few seconds, almost making you cry out at the loss of stimulation. What you were asking him to do was crazy, it was not safe, but the way his dick throbbed made all the thinking for him - he wanted that, he dreamt about that.
“- Are you sure about that angel ? 
- Yes, please ! I’m on the pill, I’ll take a plan B, but please I need you, please…”
It was still dangerous, it was still nonsense, but Yunho wasn’t thinking with his brain anymore, nothing logical was crossing his mind anymore. 
“- Fuck, you’re going to kill me Y/N.”
But he loved it, and he loved how tight you felt around him when he pushed his cock inside, loved how he could feel you even better like that, loved how pliant you were in his hold. He gripped your waist as he bottomed out, forcing you to stay still and all you could do was moan out his name like a prayer, because you could feel everything, because it felt even more intense like that, because his strength excited you. And Yunho didn’t hesitate when he started to pound into you, the feeling of your bare cunt around his dick making him delirious. You arched your back more, trying to fuck yourself against his cock because you always wanted more, you always craved more. 
“- You’re such a slut, angel. Fuck ! You’re letting me fuck you raw but you get shy when I look at you, uh ? You’re so fucking naughty.”
You adored it when he called you his good girl, but the way he was holding the back of your neck to keep your head buried in the pillow, and the way he was ruining you felt just as good. The adrenaline rushing in your veins had you getting closer to the edge so quickly, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were unable to say anything else than his name, choking on your words, mewling from the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. 
And Yunho wanted to talk dirty to you, to whisper all the things he knew you loved in your ears, but his mind was clouded with want, and he couldn’t think straight. All he wanted was to spill his load inside of you, do the things he imagined when he was alone, these things he forbade himself to think about. But now he could, and he never felt better than buried deep inside your tight cunt. 
“- Gonna cum inside of you, okay ? Gonna fill you up like the slut you are, angel.
- Please !”
The moan he let out when he stilled inside of you was so erotic you could’ve come only listening to his voice, but the feeling of his cum painting your insides white was what made it for you, your body growing limp in his hold. His grip on your neck and hips tightened, maybe enough to leave you with some marks but you didn’t care. Both of you had trouble coming down, but when you were finally able to, Yunho helped you lay down with him, your head resting on his chest as you were still trying to catch your breath. You felt his fingers brushing your hair away from your face and you looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat when your gaze crossed. 
“- I wasn’t too rough, right ?
- No, it was perfect, I loved it.”
You smiled at each other, and even if it felt too intimate, and even if it was what couples did and not whatever the two of you were, he leaned down to kiss your lips softly. 
“- I loved it too. I think I just want to keep spending a good time with you, I don't want things to get more complicated than they already are, if that’s okay with you. Let’s keep it as simple as possible, yeah ?
- Yeah, I’d like that.”
You were the one to kiss him this time, as if you wanted to seal your agreement, as if it was a silent promise. 
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“- Where are we going ?
- It’s a surprise. You can choose the music if you want.”
You didn’t waste any time going through Yunho’s playlist, teasing him about some songs you didn’t think he would listen to and finally settling on a Lana del Ray song. It had been a week since you decided to just do what felt right and not think too much, and he had asked you if you were free to spend your Saturday with him. Of course, you said yes, but you didn’t think that he would pick you up in his car and drive you somewhere, thinking he just wanted to change from the hotel you were always meeting up and show you another place, but it felt like he was literally taking you on a date. 
You watched the landscape unfold through the car window, casually chatting with Yunho about how your week went, about what you ate yesterday, about which book you read lately. Sometimes, you thought that the age difference between the two of you would make things awkward, or that it would clash with your opinions. But it was the exact opposite. Your conversations felt natural, as if you had known each other for decades, as if eight years weren’t separating you. You were twenty-two, you were an adult and you could make your own choices, but sometimes, you were worried about the way he was perceiving you. 
“- Y/N ? We’re almost there.”
You looked down at your phone, seeing that it had in fact been over an hour since he had picked you up and you apparently fell asleep. You yawned as you checked your makeup and hairstyle in the mirror of the sun visor, glad to see that your little nap hadn’t messed up anything. When Yunho stopped the car, you were in a narrow street, where not many stores could be seen. You were about to get out when he asked you to wait, getting out himself and making his way over to the passenger door, opening it for you and offering you his hand to help you out. And smiled up at him as you got out of his car. 
“- You’re such a gentleman.
- For you ? Always.”
His cheeky smile made you giggle, but the fact that he didn’t let go of your hand as he walked you to one of the few shops on the street made your heart skip a beat. He did nastier things to you, said words that would have made anyone feel embarrassed, but for some reason, this small gesture dusted your cheeks in a pink tone that wasn’t due to your excessive use of blush. 
“- I really wanted to show you this place, I think you’re gonna love it.”
He held the door for you, a little bell ringing as you entered a cute, little bookshop. The smell of old pages invaded your nostrils as Yunho guided you through the shelves with a hand on the small of your back. You couldn’t help looking all around, stunned by how much books were in there, by how many you recognized the titles of. The atmosphere of the whole boutique was welcoming and warm, the sunlight reflecting through the coloured glass of the front window displaying moving shadows everywhere and adding to its charm. 
“- You like it ?”
You turned to him with a big smile on your face, almost ready to squeal with excitement. 
“- Of course I like it ! If I could spend my life there I would !
- No one’s stopping you angel.”
A big smile spread on his face as he kissed your forehead and let you wander around, eyes opening wide every time you saw a title you recognized. You were fitting perfectly in the setting with the black bow in your hair, your little brown skirt and your white turtleneck. Yunho was so lost in his contemplation that he almost didn’t hear the lady holding the shop coming out of the stocking room.
“- Yunho ! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you there !
- Yeah Mrs. McMillan, I’m sorry I’ve been quite busy.”
The old lady shook her head, her long, white hair flying around as she did so. 
“- I’ve already told you to call me Isabel, honey, I’m not that old ! And you brought a pretty girl along this time.”
Yunho turned back to you, watching you fondly as you piled up books in your arms, and soon enough the stack would be higher than you. 
“- Is that love I’m seeing in your eyes ?
- No, not at all, she’s only a friend.”
Putting that label on you made his heart ache, because he knew you were so much more than that, and Isabel seemed to know it as well because she looked at him with a gaze filled with disapproval as you came to the counter, still smiling. 
“- Y/N, this is Isabel McMillan, she has been selling books here since I’ve been alive. 
- Nice to meet you Mrs. McMillan ! I have to say that this shop might become my new favourite place, there’s so many things there, it’s incredible !”
Your excitement was contagious as a smile took over the old woman's features too, softening at having someone as passionate as you to compliment her. 
“- Don’t take on your friend’s bad habits, call me Isabel, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re enjoying my hard work. 
- I really do. If I could, I would buy half of these books but sadly I cannot.”
As Isabel noted down the title of the books you wanted to buy - because she didn’t want to use technology, saying it was too tiring to learn these things at her advanced age - Yunho couldn’t detach his eyes from you. 
“- Since you’re with Yunho, and because I’m starting to like you, young lady, I’m going to offer you a little reduction. It’s rare to see people being so dedicated to literature these days, it will not do any harm to my business to encourage you to come again.
- Thank you so much ! But I’m gonna tell you a secret : I would’ve come back, even without that.”
The old lady laughed out loud, along with you and Yunho joined the two of you, because your good mood was infectious. 
“- Do you still have the book I asked you to put away last time ?
- Of course, honey, I’m a woman of words.”
She crouched down behind the counter and came up with a book she handed him. 
“- I’ll pay for it, and all the ones Y/N is taking.
- What ? No, Yunho this is almost fifty euros, it’s too much.
- Can’t I spoil you ? It’s my pleasure angel, I wanna do this for you so let me, okay ?”
The nickname had you unable to hold eye contact with him much longer, and you folded, letting him pay for your books, with butterflies coming alive in your stomach as he held the door for you again on your way out. And Isabel watched all this happen, and she couldn’t help scolding Yunho in his head for being so blind about his own feelings, for being so blind to the way you were looking at him with heart eyes. But after all, it was none of her business. 
“- Put the books in my car, then we can go grab a coffee if you want. 
- I’d like that, yeah ! And thank you for the books, you didn’t have to. 
- Yes, but I wanted to. Stop worrying about that okay ?”
You nodded as you reached his car and you dropped the books on his back seat. But before you could close the door, he handed you the book he took for himself. 
“- This one is also for you. I saw it last time and thought that you might like it. Maybe you could read it while I’m reading one of yours, and when we’re done, we could hand it back with annotations and talk about it. What do you think ?”
When you looked up at him, he looked anxious, maybe because he thought that you wouldn’t like his idea. But you did, the simple fact that he thought about you when seeing this book made you feel dizzy. 
“- I think I love this idea. Wait a minute.”
You turned around, rummaging through all your new books in search of the one you saw and that you bought for the sole reason that it reminded you of him. 
“- I picked up this one thinking about you, actually, so you might read it as well.”
You handed him the book, and he took it gladly as you grabbed the one he picked up for you too. You finally closed the car door and you both headed downtown to find a coffee shop. The first time your hand brushed against his, you didn’t dare to take it. And the second time, he didn’t dare to do it. So the third time, you took a deep breath and intertwined your fingers with his, and he gave your hand a little squeeze, both of you wearing a bright smile on your faces. 
The coffee shop you found was surprisingly pretty empty considering it was a Saturday evening, but you were glad there were not that many people. When you approached the counter, you were ready to recite your favourite coffee order when Yunho took the lead and listed down your usual as if it was written in his mind. You couldn’t even listen to the rest of the things he said to the cashier, focused on why he knew that when you never told him. He must’ve noticed you blankly staring at him, because he turned to you with a little smirk. 
“- What ? You’re surprised I know this ?
- Yes, a little. How did you figure it out ?
- Well, you always come to my classes with the same thing, it was not difficult to notice.”
You rolled your eyes, mainly to hide how flustered the information made you feel. 
“- You’re so obsessed with me.”
As the cashier put your orders down on the counter and announced the price of your drinks, Yunho mouthed “Yes” to you as he paid again for the both of you without letting you enough time to even reach for your purse. And before you could even start to protest, he effectively shut you up by kissing your cheek and dragging you along with him to find an isolated table where you both sat down. As always, the conversation flooded naturally, and you were not thinking about anything displeasing - in this instant, you were truly happy. 
And Yunho was happy too. So when you proposed to play a card game, and that the winner could ask the loser a question about anything, he agreed, even if it was silly, it was okay because it was you. You asked him what his favourite colour was, why he wanted to become a teacher, what he would say to Oscar Wilde if he could talk to him. And he asked you which Austen novel was your favourite, why you wanted to study literature, what your biggest dream was. You were so immersed in your little game that the staff of the coffee shop had to ask you to leave because they were closing the place, and the sky was indeed darker as you got out to walk back to his car. 
He opened the door for you again, and as you watched him make his way to the driver seat, you couldn’t help asking yourself if that was really all he wanted from this afternoon. After all, even if you didn’t put a label on your relationship - if you could even call it that - you knew deep down that the main reason he was seeing you was sex. And if he didn’t plan on having sex with you now, does this mean that this meeting you didn’t dare call a date was only that ? But then, it took you down a rabbit hole of never ending questions that you didn’t want to dig into.
Sensing that your mood was a little down, Yunho didn’t dare to talk too much and disturb you, even if he didn’t understand why. You had a good time, you couldn’t stop smiling and you really seemed to enjoy hanging out with him. And the thought that you could be questioning yourself about your situationship made him a little nervous, though it shouldn’t because this was what it was - a situationship. And it didn’t matter if you made his heart beat faster everytime he saw you. And it didn’t matter if you made him feel alive for the first time in years. It didn’t matter because having more with you was simply impossible. When Yunho parked in front of your dorm, all the serotonin from this day had been washed away with the doubts filling him up.
“- Thank you for everything Yunho, I had a great time.”
But your smile seemed fake, it didn’t reach your eyes as it usually did. And Yunho felt his heart clench painfully. He didn’t want you to feel sad with him. Never. You were supposed to enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed yours. 
“- Are you really alright ? If I overstepped, tell me, please. I don’t want you to keep these things from me Y/N.”
You sighed as you turned your gaze away from him, but his hands on either side of your face forced you to look him in the eyes again. Why did he have to be so perfect all the time ? It would’ve made things so much easier if he didn’t care about you.
“- You did nothing wrong, I’m just thinking too much. 
- About what ?
- I just think we should be more careful if we start going out like that because someone could recognize us. And you could lose your job, or I could get kicked out. I’m probably just being paranoid but…”
That was not the problem, but you didn’t want to talk about the real reason you were feeling so melancholic. Because it would probably ruin everything, and you needed him too much for your own good, you needed him too much to risk losing him.
“- You’re not being crazy, okay ? I understand, and if you’re afraid we might meet someone we know, we can go somewhere else next time, anywhere you wanna go, i’ll take you. How does that sound ? 
- Good. It sounds good.
- Then we’ll be doing that.” 
You nodded, and even if you still felt a little bad, one look from him was enough to make you feel better, to make your worries all go away. So even if your heart was screaming for you not to, you let him kiss your forehead, and then your lips, so softly it made you weak in the knees. But it felt too good to ask him to stop. So you didn’t, and you just kissed him back until you were out of breath. 
“- I’m gonna go, I have to work on your assignment because fucking the teacher won’t get me a free pass, right ?
- That’s the spirit angel, I’m always expecting the best from you.
- Then I have to start now. Be careful on the road, Yu.”
He nodded and watched you get out of his car, not leaving until he saw you get inside the building of your dorm. And then only did he authorise himself to let out a sigh. Because you were too sweet to be true, because you gave him a little nickname that had him feeling much more things than he shouldn’t, because your scent was still lingering everywhere and it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy, to be honest. 
And it was bad, really bad. Yunho didn't mean for things to go this far, but he felt like he couldn’t stop now. And if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to stop now that he had a taste of you. However, it still felt incredibly wrong to go home to his girlfriend when he had spent the day with you and that he didn’t think about her only once. The smell of home cooked food hit him as soon as he stepped inside, and the weight on his shoulders even more heavy as he announced that he was home. 
“- You’re coming back late, baby ! But that’s okay, at least everything is ready for dinner, I made your favourite !”
Guiltiness was creeping up inside of him with every word she said, and everything sounded so fake when he served her his lie about having an important meeting with his colleagues. She didn’t deserve this, she didn’t do anything for him to stop loving her. On the contrary, Hana was always sweet and caring, she was there for him and had been for years. But maybe it was the problem. Maybe it has been too long.  But Yunho perfectly knew the real reason, it was just too painful to admit it, and it would make things too real. 
For a while, he preferred to ignore the fact that you were making the flames come alive again in his heart. He preferred to ignore how much stronger his feelings for you were than for his girlfriend he was supposed to love and cherish and marry soon. But was it really a crime when everything she was doing, everything they were doing seemed faked, forced, done out of habit rather than because of true love and affection ? Yunho knew that he was already in too deep with you to stop, and the way Hana was not paying attention to what he was saying was making him feel a little less remorseful about the way he was only seeing your face when she was kissing him good night. 
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Work and classes have been hectic for the both of you these past weeks, so Yunho’s proposal of a getaway trip to the beach this weekend felt like a bubble of oxygen. Sure, you had seen each other, but for never more than a quickie. Sure, you didn’t stop sending each other texts and photos to keep up with your days, but you wanted to hear him calling you angel again. And even if it was supposed to be only that, even if you shouldn’t want that, you still missed spending time with him, talking with him. So you held on to the promise of this little break with him to finally breathe and relax.
When you finally spotted his car parked a few streets away from your dorm, and his tall frame leaning against the drivers’ door, the wind blowing his perfectly styled hair, your heart started to beat faster. The rush you got everytime you laid your eyes on him never flattered. And you didn’t really think about it when you ran to him and threw yourself in his arms. You could hear him chuckling as he buried his face into your neck, holding you closer to him and spinning you around. Both of you needed this hug, and Yunho couldn’t ever get tired of your addicting scent, breathing you in for a moment before he cradled your face into his hands to kiss you like he had wanted to these past few days.
“- I missed you, angel. 
- We literally saw each other yesterday.
- But not like that.”
This comment was enough to make heat rise into your body again. But you simply slapped his chest playfully as he giggled like an idiot. But he didn’t mind your teasing, it was entertaining. Like the gentlemen he always was, Yunho opened the door of the car for you. Every time he drove you somewhere, you felt like a passenger princess - getting to choose the music, opening the windows whenever you wanted, holding his hand when he didn’t need it. The weather was starting to warm up a little, and you smiled as you felt the pleasant air hit your face, making your hair fly in every direction. 
And yes, Yunho felt a little guilty for cancelling plans he had with his girlfriend to take you to the beach, but he needed it. He needed to escape from his life and his routine for just one day, but more importantly, he needed you. He didn’t want to spend his weekend with her family, he wanted to spend it with you. And as he watched you run towards the water, squealing as the cold liquid touched your bare feets, he felt like it was worth it. Your long skirt was floating around you to the rhythm of the wind, and to him, you’ve never looked more beautiful than right now - with your hair all messy, and the brightest smile he’s ever seen on your face directed at him, asking him to come with you. 
There were only a few other people on the beach, allowing you to be as affectionate as you wished. The picnic both of you had prepared was spent between sweet kisses and mindless conversation. And then, Yunho laid down to rest his head on your lap while you read another book he had given to you. You mindlessly started to run your hands through his hair, smiling lightly when he released a satisfied sigh, relaxing even more. And Yunho swore he could’ve fallen asleep just like that - with the sun warming up his body and your presence warming up his heart. 
“- It’s been so long since I’ve last gone to the beach…”
Your self-reflection steered Yunho out of his slumber, looking up at you to find you entirely focused on the landscape in front of your eyes. Suddenly, your tone was a lot more nostalgic, and he couldn’t help his curiosity. Because yes, he knew your body like the back of his hands by now, and he knew what you were liken but he knew so little about your past, about you - the you he was starting to fall in love with. 
“- But you grew up close to the ocean, right ?
- Yeah. We used to go every weekend, it was always the best day of the week and I was so excited to go every time. But when my parents started to fight, we stopped going. Apparently, it reminded them of too many memories and they had no time to do that anymore. I tried to go alone once. I was maybe eight ? I don’t remember well, but I know that I got scolded so badly I’ve never tried it again, even as a teenager. And I kinda had an apprehension to go see the ocean again. 
- I didn’t know that. I’m sorry for proposing that, we can leave whenever you want if you don’t feel comfortable, angel.”
Your eyes finally came back to him, smiling softly at him as you pushed a strand of his hair away from his forehead, your touch making goosebumps come alive on his skin. 
“- It’s okay, I’m over all that now. And when I think back about it, these trips were never perfect. My parents were already fighting back then, I was just too young to understand what it meant. But today I’m here with you, so I knew it would be nothing like that. You make everything better, Yu.”
You leaned forward, pecking his lips for a second or two, but it was enough to make Yunho smile again. He had no idea your childhood could’ve been so chaotic, and from what you told him, he could easily imagine the classic scheme through which you went. And it made sense with the women you were today - strong, independent and determined. But he also learned that you needed him to baby you sometimes, and he was always willing to let you fall into his open arms every time you needed to. And the fact that you were slowly opening up more and more to him everyday felt like a reward. 
“- What was your childhood like ?
- Well, I have a pretty conservative and religious family, and I’ve always felt like I’ve never belonged with them. My parents love me, I know they do, but it’s like I don’t fit in with them, you know ? It’s a strange feeling, but I’ve always been the rebel one : I didn’t do the studies my parents wanted me to do, and I didn’t follow every one of their rules as I grew up, and I’ve never had the same faith as them. I think that’s what disturbed them the most. 
- The feeling of being a disappointment, and of going against the flow is never easy to deal with, especially as a kid. But look where you are now. They should be proud of you for doing a job you love. At least, I’m proud of you.”
This time, Yunho made the first move to kiss you. 
“You’re really an angel, too good to be true.
- I could say the same about you.” 
Because he simply had that aura that made you feel safe, that made you feel comfortable, that made you feel at home. Every time you looked into his eyes, it was as if nothing else existed, as if he was the only thing that was real. But you didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to dwell on what it meant, didn’t want to think about the fact that this won’t last forever. Instead, you kept on talking, telling each other some childhood memories. And it all felt so peaceful, like you were all alone, like it was both of you against the rest of the world, like you were in a little bubble that could never burst. 
And Yunho really wished he could stay like that with you forever, but the sun was starting to go down and the wind was turning colder. You could’ve fallen asleep on the ride home, lulled by the way he was quietly humming to the songs of the playlist you choose. This day made you forget about everything else, made the stress go away, made all your worries disappear. But you knew it was not only because you got away, but mostly because Yunho was with you. He always had that effect on you, no matter how hard you tried to resist it. You didn’t want this day to end, you didn’t want this feeling to ever go away. So as he parked near your dorm, you kissed his lips one more time.
“- Do you want to come up ? My roommate is not here. 
- What about being careful, angel ? Anyone could recognize me here. 
- It’s Sunday, everyone is either locked up in their rooms working or spending the day out. No one will see you. Please ?”
The fact that you started to kiss down his neck as well as your pleading eyes were close to breaking Yunho’s resolve. He knew he shouldn’t let you have this much of an effect on him, but you had that effect and he couldn’t deny the way he weakly said “yes” and let you drag him to your dorm room. But the way you were giggling against his lips as you pushed him to sit down on your bed made him forget all about his doubts. As you dropped to your knees on the ground, settling between his legs, Yunho couldn’t help the shaky breath that escaped him. 
“- I think I have to pay you back for today, don’t I ?”
The smirk playing on your lips as you unbuckled his belt and helped him get out of his pants did nothing to calm his heartbeat down. And the way you were always so eager to take care of him, to have your mouth on him, did nothing to help either. But it felt too good, so he didn’t stop you and let you kiss his tip one time before you started to kitten-lick his cock. 
“- Fuck, don’t tease, angel. 
- But you look so pretty like that.”
Your pouty lips made him want to spoil you but also to be a little mean. But you were such a good girl for him, taking all of him in your mouth. Everytime you were getting down on your knees for him, Yunho couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline going through his veins.  He threw his head back when he felt your cheeks hollowing, sucking him in deeper. He wanted to stay like that forever, with you drooling around his cock, and his hands buried in your hair. But he needed to have his mouth on you too, to make you feel good. So he took advantage of your size difference to throw you on the bed with ease, pushing up your long skirt so he could dip his head under the material and lick a strip of your wet cunt through your panties. 
“- Yunho… Please, don’t tease.
- But you look so pretty like that.”
You smiled as you lightly slapped his shoulder, eliciting a few chuckles from him before he helped you get out of your underwear and finally got a taste of your cunt. You could only see the top of his head, but the way he was subtly nibbling on your clit had you closing your eyes to appreciate the moment even more. His tongue lapping at your cunt was sending you to places you’ve never been, and you couldn’t care less about the other people at the dorm who might hear you whining his name loudly. This day was so perfect, Yunho was so perfect. You couldn’t ask for more. Or you could, but you would be pushing your luck, and you didn’t want anything else if it meant you could be with him in some way. But you didn’t want to think about all that right now, so you pushed his head further in between your thighs. 
“- Don’t stop, please…”
Yunho groaned against your folds, doubling his efforts to bring you to the edge, practically making out with your pussy at this point. But you didn’t mind, not at all. You wanted him, wanted every little part of his body and soul to be yours. As you felt your orgasm approaching, you started to grind against his face, moaning at the way his nose was bumping against your clit every time you rocked your hips. And when you came with a cry of pleasure, Yunho made sure to hold your thighs open for him to eat you until he had gulped down the last drop of your juices. 
“- How do you taste better every time ? I’ll never get tired of it.
- Good. Because I don't want you to stop.” 
Both of you were still half clothed, but you didn’t mind it as Yunho came up to kiss your lips, his tongue finding yours easily and his hands grabbing your breast over your top like a second nature. Everything felt so familiar, so right, like you were where you should be. Your lips were sealed to his, from the moment he pulled out his condom to the moment his cock entered you, only separating for a brief instant when you moaned in harmony. 
And no words where needed as he made love to you. Because there was no other way to define how he was fucking you, to define the tenderness of his touch, the fondness of his gaze, the softness of his breath hitting your skin. Every sound he elicited from you was immediately drowned in his mouth, your hands tugging at the material of his shirt as you felt close to the edge again. You felt full of so many emotions you couldn’t even name them all, but you knew that Yunho was the only reason you were feeling all that. 
“- I’m close…
- Me too, angel…”
The words you’ve been meaning to say for some time almost slipped past your lips as you felt the rush of pleasure course through your body. And if Yunho hadn’t nuzzled his head into your neck, he would’ve probably been about to say them too. As you came down of your little paradise where nothing existed except for him, you realised how close you’ve been to fuck it all up. And you didn’t want that - you were going to take everything you could have from this relationship, and no matter the state you would end up in, it would be worth it because it was him. 
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“- Hey ! Watch where you’re going Y/N !”
Dajeong kept you from walking straight into the door that opened just in front of your face. You sheepishly thanked her, and tried to not get lost in your thoughts again.
“- You seem absent since yesterday. Did something happen this weekend ?”
You knew exactly why you were so absorbed, you knew it. But you couldn’t say it, you couldn’t talk about it with her. It would mean putting Yunho in a dangerous situation, and yourself too. And what would she think of you ? You were always the first one to comment on how stupid all the girls crushing on your teacher were, and now you were the one who ended up in his bed every time he needed you.
“- It’s nothing, I just… Don’t know what to do about something and I’m thinking about it a little too much.”
Your eyes travelled from your friend by your side to Yunho’s silhouette. He was standing near the door of his office, having a lively conversation with a woman you’ve never seen before but you supposed that she was one of his colleagues. You had no right to be jealous. And you weren’t. Not really, at least. You were not jealous about seeing him with someone else, you were mentally prepared for that to happen. But you were jealous of how good she looked beside him, thinking about how ridiculous you must be whenever you were going out with him. Your age difference was visible, and everything felt much more right when he was with someone his age. But you quickly averted your gaze from them, not seeing the pained look on Yunho’s face as he turned his head your way. 
“- You wanna talk about it tonight ? 
- I don’t know, it’s complicated.”
Dajeong smiled at you and grabbed you by your arm, trying to cheer you up a little. She didn’t like to see you down - you were always so energetic and joyful, it felt odd whenever you were like that. 
“- No matter what you decide, I’m here. And I’m keeping you home for a movie night anyway.
- I'd like that a lot. Thank you.
- I told you, I’m here for you.”
You thanked her again and tried not to think about Yunho for the rest of the day. You weren’t even mad at him, except the fact that you had no right feeling like that, it was mostly because you realised that you really couldn’t be with him for more than what you already were. And it hurt more than you think it would have, because even if you tried to stop yourself from daydreaming about a future with him, you still did, and you had started to believe that it could happen, that it could be true. But you had to be sensible and remind yourself that it was impossible, that even if there was the slightest chance that he loved you, he could never do it in the open, and you were not ready to stay a secret your whole life. But you still went to his office after your classes because he had asked you to. When you entered the room, Yunho was waiting for you, anxiously chewing on his nails. He gestured for you to close the door behind you and when you made sure it was locked, you took his hands in yours, confusion lingering in your eyes. 
“- What is it Yu ? Are you alright ?
- I should be the one asking you that.
- Why ?
- Because of what you saw this morning. It’s not what you think, I swear there’s nothing between us, she’s just another teacher I’m working with. I’m not doing any-
- Stop.”
And he did it, mouth closing shut as you tried to not let all the doubts and the melancholy that invaded you today be perceived in your voice or your touch. You stood on your tippy toes to kiss his lips softly, hoping that it would calm him down a little. 
“- I didn’t think anything about it, okay ? I’m not mad, or sad, or anything else. And you can do absolutely what you want, you know, it’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything. I don’t have a word to say about your relationships.”
The words hurt you, but they hurt him too. He knew you weren’t his girlfriend, he made that clear enough so you understood that nothing like that could ever happen. But it still felt wrong to hear you say that, he still felt bad at seeing the slight discomfort in your eyes. However, you didn’t let him reflect on that too much as you let go of his hands. 
“- Don’t worry about that, okay ? I have to go, I have plans with Dajeong for tonight but text me if you need anything.
- Yeah, have a good night angel.”
You smiled at him before leaving and Yunho’s heart clenched when he saw you go out one more time. Every night you spent together, you had always left before him, and every time, he wished you could stay a little more. And every time, he prayed that it would not be the last time he was going to see you. Even if everything about this was wrong, he didn’t want it to end, and for once, he wanted to be selfish. He wanted to think about himself, to put his happiness first and not everyone else’s opinions. 
That’s why when you told him you had a really bad day, a few weeks after this incident, he decided to think about what made him happier lately and put you first. So he picked you up after class, without telling you where you were going, but it had become a habit of his to never reveal the destination of your little adventures. The ride was silent, the music being the only sound disturbing the quiet atmosphere, but as soon as Yunho parked on the hill that overlooked the whole city so you could see the sunset, you bursted into tears. Yunho pulled you into his lap, running his hands through your hair to calm you down, and encouraging you to talk to him. 
“- Tell me what’s going on, angel. 
- I’m just… Everything I do, it’s never enough. There’s always someone who’s doing it better, there’s always someone to remind me that I’m enough. I’m never enough, for anything or anyone.”
Seeing you like that broke his heart, but Yunho didn’t let his own emotions overpower him. He cradled your face in his hands, whipping your tears away tenderly. 
“- You are enough Y/N, you’ve always been enough and the way you’re feeling right now does not reflect what you really are. You’re doing so much all the time, and for everyone. I promise you are enough, angel. And I’m proud of the person you are, I’m proud of you.”
You nuzzled your head in his chest, a little more serene than five minutes before, his scent soothing your heart and your mind, and his touch so soft and delicate you could’ve fallen asleep in his arms. You stayed like that for a moment, not needing to say anything else as his presence was enough to get you to relax, and you couldn’t say if you spent ten minutes or an hour like that, but you felt so peaceful you didn’t want to move. Whenever you were with him, it was like a little bubble engulfed the two of you, and that nothing else existed beside him and everything he was making you feel. 
“-  Thank you, Yu.”
And you pecked his lips to reinforce that idea. And Yunho pushed away a strand of your hair before he kissed you too, deepening it when you whimpered against his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him closer to you. And you stayed there, simply making out and quietly talking about nothing and everything. But it was enough to calm you down. And it was enough for Yunho to be sure about what he wanted to do. But not now. Not when you were so vulnerable he felt like you could break in his arms. 
“- Can you take me home ? I’m tired.
- Of course, angel. I just need to stop by the gas station.”
You nodded and kissed him one last time before getting back in your seat. Your mood was much better on the way back, casually chatting with Yunho as he drove you home with his hand comfortably resting on your thigh. You mindlessly played with his fingers, not really paying attention to the road. You only registered the notifications noises from his phone when he was out and paying for his gas. You glanced at his illuminated screen, not really wanting to know who was texting him but just out of habit, and the nickname of the person texting him was all you needed to know. “My girl 💕” was enough to understand that you weren’t the only one, that he wasn’t as invested in this relationship as you. You were aware of all these things, but to be hit by the realisation, to be faced with the truth was harsh. When he sat back down in his seat, you had to brace yourself so the tears wouldn’t spill from your eyes, so the words you were about to scream at his face wouldn’t slip out from your mouth. 
“- Are you alright, angel ?
-  Hum, yeah, I just wanna go home and sleep. Don't worry.”
You offered him a little smile and he caressed your cheek, but you had to mentally restrain yourself from pushing his hand away. You let him drive you home, forcing yourself to smile and seem normal and composed. Only when you were snuggled underneath your blankets did you allow yourself to let the tears fall freely from your eyes. You were expecting this to stop at some point, but not like that. You were trusting him, you thought he was telling you the truth, you thought that what would separate you would only be the fact that it was impossible, but not that. 
It was so unlike him, always so kind and gentle, always thinking about you and your comfort first. That was surely why you never thought he would do something like that. But after all, you should've seen it coming. This was truly too good to be true, too perfect to last. But you would've wanted it to last for a little longer, for forever. And coming back to reality was hard, it was like waking up from a dream to realise you were only living in a nightmare all this time. That night, you fell asleep with his scent still lingering on your clothes, and dried tears covering your cheeks. 
The next morning, you weren’t doing any better, if not worse. The truth was sinking in, and you were not strong enough to answer his texts yet, leaving him on read and purposely ignoring his demand to see you today. You got up from your bed either way, only because you needed to eat to compensate for your empty heart, and that what Dajeong must have cooked smelled really good. 
“- Wow ! You look like a zombie. A cute zombie, but still a zombie.”
You smiled a little, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You sat down on the stool of the kitchen, watching your roommate finishing up your meal, mind clouded with thoughts of him even if he was the last thing you wanted to think about. 
“- On a serious note, are you alright ?”
The casual question made you tear up again, and you had to take a deep breath so you would not cry again. Dajeong turned off the stove and came to sit down beside you, one hand resting on your shoulder as she encouraged you to talk to her. And you did. You told her everything about what had been going on between Yunho and you for months. It felt like it all started yesterday, like it was only a dream. But with the way it was about to end, you rather have not started this at all. 
“- I would’ve never thought that you would be the type to go out with our teacher. 
- I know. There’s just something about him that I can’t get enough of. I… I think I love him.”
It was the first time you dared to say the words. But it was true. You loved him even if you tried to resist it, even if you tried not to succumb to the temptation he was. But you gave in, and you were happy for as long as it lasted. You knew it would hurt, but you didn’t think it would hurt that much. You underestimated how important he became, how much you relied on him for everything. 
“- And it’s not even the fact that he has a girlfriend or someone else that makes me mad, I was okay with that because I had come to terms with the fact that I will never be more than what we were. But he treated me like I was more, he made me think that he cared about me just to pull out something like that. And I had to find out, he didn’t even have the balls to tell me himself. 
-  He’s a coward, I must admit. And he clearly doesn’t deserve you. He could have never loved you like you need to be loved, you’ll always be a secret with him. It’s better like that. 
- Maybe. But it hurts.”
Some tears escaped your eyes again, and Dajeong didn’t hesitate before pulling you into a tight hug, caressing your head as a way to calm you down. She knew how much a heartbreak could hurt, especially when it ended up like that, especially when it was as intense as what you had. 
“- I know, lovely. It’s gonna take time, but it’s gonna stop hurting eventually. But I think you should talk with him, ask him clearly what’s going on before completely cutting him out of your life. You need closure, you at least deserve that.”
You nodded as Dajeong proposed that you spent the day together, doing some skincare and talking again and again about the same people for the hundredth time while watching some silly movies to cheer you up. And you did exactly that, trying to not think about him for at least one day. You were anxious to go back to class on Monday, fearing that everything would be awkward, or that he would completely ignore you. Somehow, you found the courage to send him a text throughout the weekend, simply to tell him that you needed some space, some time to think about you and him. You didn’t see the point of lying to him, and you silenced his notifications just after. You were strong enough to answer him, but not to witness him pretend and care about you.
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Your resolve started to crumble when you saw how miserable he looked the next few days in class. His eye bags were terrible, and he seemed to have lost all his energy. Usually, Yunho would animate all his classes and passionately teach you his subject, but lately, he was only giving you some group work to do, keeping his interventions to a minimum. He spent his time sitting at his desk, either trying to grade some papers or zoning out, looking through the windows. Everytime his sad eyes fell into yours, your heart clenched and ached. But you didn’t have the strength to confront him about what you saw on his phone. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted him to deny, to tell you it was not what you were thinking and that you were the only one - even if you knew it was impossible and that dreaming about it made everything hurt ten times more badly. 
You missed him. You missed hearing his voice, his laugh. You missed his smile, and the dimple he had when you made a terrible joke he couldn’t help giggling at. You missed his touch, the way every time his skin was against yours everything else disappeared. You missed being in his arms, and the sentiment of security it gave you. You simply missed him, and having to see him everyday without being able to look at him for more than a few seconds was a torture. And even if you had unblocked him because you were weak, you continued to ignore every one of his texts and calls either way. It was painful, but a lot less than if he told you face to face that he had someone else, that he lied to you, that he made you fall head over heels for you before fucking it all up, before crushing your heart in between his fingers. 
One day, when you came back to your dorm, you found flowers waiting for you by the door. There was no card with it, but Yunho was the only one who knew that lilies were your favourite flowers. And you cried again when you opened the trash can only to find yourself unable to throw the bouquet away. So you kept it, putting it in a vase and placing it on the kitchen’s counter, seeing him every time you looked at the flowers. 
Another day, when you handed him back an assignment and that your hand brushed against his, it was like time stopped for a moment. Your breath was knocked out of your lungs as you looked up at him, and the plethora of emotions you caught dancing in Yunho’s eyes was enough to bring you back to when he was calling you angel, to when he was treating you like the most beautiful girl in the world. You ran away as quickly as possible, because you were on the verge of telling him that you loved him, and that it would only make things even more complicated than they already were. You felt so stupid for falling for your teacher, but you felt even more ridiculous for believing that you could be more than a side piece to him. 
However, that didn’t stop you from looking at the texts he sent to you, asking you to come meet him in his office because he wanted to explain everything properly. You heard Dajeong words ringing in your head as you took a deep breath and entered the room you had grown familiar with. His scent surrounded you immediately, and Yunho jumped upon your arrival. His glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose, and his hair were completely dishevelled. You still managed to be smitten by his ethereal beauty. But the way he was looking at you with such desperation forced you to avoid his gaze quickly. 
“- Y/N…”
His voice broke down, and your heart broke too, a little more every time he tried to start a sentence. Yunho wanted to forget everything, to hold you in his arms and promise you the world. But he couldn’t, and the way you were hugging yourself made him want to get down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. In all honesty, he would do it in the blink of an eye if you asked him, he would do anything if it meant you would forgive him. But it was nearly impossible, and he was well aware of that, but you deserved an explanation - that and so much more. 
“- What did you want to tell me ?”
Your tone was harsher than you wanted it to be, and you didn’t dare look his way, and Yunho didn’t dare make a step in your direction, afraid that you would run away again. But he had to tell you the truth, he had to be honest for once. 
“- It’s not what you think, angel.
- Please, spare me with that, I’m not blind, nor an idiot.
- No, you’re not… And that’s why you deserve to know what is going on. The message you saw the other night was from… My girlfriend.”
You knew it, but to hear him say it was different. It hit exactly the right spot to reopen some wounds that had never healed. You already felt on the verge of tears, but you tried to keep them under control, gripping the handles of your tote bag to ground yourself in reality and brace yourself for what was coming. 
“- But I don’t love her anymore, it's been a long time since I’ve stopped feeling anything for her. We met when we were in highschool, and we were a good match at that time. She was my friend before becoming more, but after all this time, there's nothing left of what I felt for her in the beginning. We were only kids, I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life and my family had already planned my future with her. They want me to marry her. But I don’t, not at all. But if I leave her, I know that they will never want to see me again. So I stayed with her but you made me realise what it was to live and be happy again, and that I don’t want to marry someone I don't genuinely love.”
While he was talking, Yunho took some steps in your direction, trying to maintain eye contact with you even if all he wanted was to slap himself in the face for how stupid he had been to think he could handle this the way he did it, to think that you would never discover his secret. At least, you were here. At least, you were listening to him. It should mean something. It should mean that everything wasn’t over yet, right ? Yunho held on to that, but when he tried to reach for your hand and you took a step back, your eyes glistening with tears, it was hard to believe that everything could be alright. And to know that he was the reason you were crying made him feel even more guilty.
“- I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, angel. I wanted to do it a million times, but I was so afraid of losing what we had, I didn’t want to freak you out. And I couldn’t lose you. You are my oxygen, my breath of fresh air in the middle of all this mess, and I need you. I promise I wanted to tell you everything the night you discovered it. But you became so quiet all of sudden, and when I looked at my phone, I assumed you had seen her text. But I swear on my life, I wanted to tell you. I should’ve never lied to you in the first place, I know that, and you can’t imagine how sorry I am.”
You were now sobbing uncontrollably, trying to cover up your voice with your hand, but the hot tears falling down your cheeks were enough proof of how affected you were. Yunho wanted to cradle you in his arms, to protect you from the world like he always did, but he couldn’t shield you from himself and his mistakes. He was supposed to be your safe place, your comfort zone, not to make you feel like that.
“- Do you understand how bad I felt when I saw this message, Yunho ? I… I knew this wouldn’t last, but to realise that you lied to me all this time was even more painful. You made me believe that we had a future together, and you treated me like your girlfriend even when I was not, even when you had someone waiting for you at home. And it hurts.”
Your voice broke down on the last words. You felt pathetic, some kind of silly, naive girl who couldn’t see what was right in front of her eyes, some kind of idiot who thought that it could end well, that it could end without you suffering too much. 
“- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. And I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising if that’s what you want. We can have a future together, I want a future with you.
- I can’t see it. I-I can’t ask you to leave her, and to turn your back on your whole family for me. ”
One tear rolled down Yunho’s cheek, and you wanted to wipe it away, but he did it himself before you could do anything. It was better like that. If you felt his skin against yours again, you didn’t know if you would be able to finish what you started. 
“- I could do it. If it’s what it takes to keep you with me I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. I love you, Y/N. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. I love you so bad it makes my heart ache. I’m ready to do everything it takes to be with you. Everything.”
You should’ve been happy to hear these words you were longing for him to say, only weeks prior. But right now, it only broke your heart more, it only pushed the knife a little deeper into your open wounds. 
“- That’s not what I want for you, you deserve better. I don’t want to fuck up your whole life, even if it meant I could love you.
- But you are my whole life, you’re the only thing I need.”
You wanted to believe him. You wanted to say yes so bad. You wanted to fall back into his touch, to fall back into his arms. But you couldn’t. Still, you let him caress your cheek, swiping his thumb against it to get rid of the tears that had dropped there. It was like you could finally breathe, as if the weight on your heart and the knot in your throat had disappeared only because he touched you. He always had that effect on you. But you had to leave, you had to leave or you would cave in and you knew it wasn’t good for you. So you took his hand in yours, pushing it away slowly, as if not to scare him away. You looked up into his teary, brown eyes. It broke your heart to see him in such a state, but you had to think about yourself too. You had to take care of yourself now that he wasn’t here to do that anymore. 
“- I’m sorry, I need some time to think. I’m… Not sure I can love you like this anymore. I’m sorry.”
He tried to smile at you, but it was joyless, without this little sparkle in his eyes that you loved so much. 
“- You don’t have to apologise, angel. You did nothing wrong, I’m the one who fucked up. I’m the only one to blame here. Take all the time you need, I’ll wait for you.”
You nodded, and you finally let go of his hand, painfully slow to feel his touch for as long as possible. You took a last look at him before turning away and unlocking the door of his office. 
“- Goodbye, Yunho.”
It felt like you were saying farewell, and Yunho wanted to run after you, to beg you to let him still be a part of your life. But he had to respect your choice. So he stayed still, standing there as if it could freeze time in place and give him the ability to come back in time and do things differently. But it was too late, and the only thing he could do was give you space and hope you would grant him a second chance, and hope you would be kind enough to forgive him even if he didn’t deserve it at all. 
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You thought that clearing up the situation with Yunho would make it easier for you to move on and forget him as you had initially planned, but you clearly were in the wrong. Feeling his eyes on you was even more painful now. But at least, he seemed to have found his energy back. It was the only thing that made you feel a little better. Because you felt like shit, even if you tried to convince yourself that what you did was for the best, that you couldn’t be together, that you had to be sensible, you didn’t want to do all that. You craved his touch, his kisses, his loving gaze. You craved him and his soothing aura. You craved his love. You wanted him back, but everything was so complicated, everything was so messed up, you weren’t even sure it could work. 
Even if Yunho respected your wish for space and time, he still hadn’t stopped texting you throughout your days - reminders for you to drink, eat and rest properly. You never answered but you saw the messages and it was all that mattered to him. And even if he tried to come back to his daily life, to his routine, he couldn’t. You had taken such an important place in his heart that everything felt empty without you and your smile to brighten his world. Nothing felt as appealing as before. Reading couldn’t take his mind out of things anymore, because he could only see your annotations on the ones you had given to him. And everytime he passed by Mrs McMillan bookstore, his thoughts immediately came back to you and how pretty you looked that day. 
So when some colleagues from the university invited him to have some drinks after work, he said yes. Yunho hoped that some alcohol and talking about anything and everything could take his mind off of you. But all it did was make it worse. With each drink, he felt the urge to call you even stronger. All he wanted was to at least hear your voice, hear his name fall from your lips, see your face, even if the pain he caused was written all over it. 
“- Angel…
- Yunho ? Why are you calling me ? Is there something wrong.”
He sighed in relief at finally hearing your voice ringing in his ears again, at finally hearing you say his name. He preferred the surname you had granted him, but he would take everything that you were willing to give him. 
“- I just… I miss you, and I need you, and I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you again. Because I feel like I didn’t apologise enough.
- It’s okay, I swear. I told you I need some time. Everything is…. Puzzling.
- Still, I’m sorry. 
- I know you are.”
There was silence, but the fact that you hadn’t hung up yet made a little bit of hope blossom in his heart. Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe there was still a world in which you could grant him your forgiveness. 
“- I can’t imagine my life without you. I tried. But I can’t. I need you, angel.
- You know that we can’t, that I can’t. You have a girlfriend, and your family, a career. I can’t just come in and mess up everything.
- I don’t care about all of that. If I’m with you it’s worth it. Please, angel, let me at least see you, even if it’s the last time I get to have you. I want you, one last time. After that, I’ll let you go if that’s what you really want, and I promise you will never have to worry about me again.”
You stayed silent for a while again, your defeated sigh being the only noise echoing through the line.
“- Okay. But this is the last time.”
However, when you joined him in the hotel room you had grown familiar with, you didn’t want it to be the last time. You wanted to stay in his arms forever. You didn’t talk, afraid of the things you could say, afraid you would beg him to stay, to come back, to do exactly what he swore he would do if only you asked him. But you tried not to think about that as you let him kiss you tenderly, as if you were going to break under his touch. And you might, because you needed him so bad it made everything hurt when he was not there.
No words were exchanged as you got rid of your clothes. No words were exchanged when you pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his thighs. No words were needed when you kissed him for the first time in weeks. It felt like you could both finally breathe, like you felt alive again, and it made all the pain go away for just a moment. 
“- I missed you, angel, missed you so fucking much…
- Me too, Yu.”
This was all you were able to say before he shut you up with another desperate kiss, making out with you as if it was the last time he got to have your lips on his - and maybe it would be. So you just decided to shut off your brain, simply running your hands through his hair and thinking about nothing else. You wanted to take your time and appreciate his touch, his eyes and the way he was moaning under your hands, but it felt like you were in a hurry, quickly discarding both of your underwear and sinking down on his cock. You gripped his shoulders, closing your eyes as you let yourself bask into the feeling of finally being full. But your desire took over you, grinding on his dick desperately.
And Yunho couldn’t look at your face, couldn’t see your beautiful eyes without thinking back to them filling up with tears the day he messed up everything between the two of you. But his body was overwhelmed by the feeling of you wrapped around him after weeks of only being able to look at you from afar, relying on his souvenirs to remember what it felt like to kiss you. He desperately wanted to engrave your face in his memories and keep it there forever, but it was too hard. So instead, he just flipped you over the bed, burying his head in your neck to not be tempted to cross your gaze anymore. But his hands still found their way to yours, fingers intertwining as he sped up the pace of his thrusts, both of you moaning in harmony. 
It wasn’t as intimate or as emotional as Yunho wanted your last time together to be like. But the alcohol was clouding his mind even more than everything he felt for you, and the urge to make you his - even if you weren’t, and that you would never be - was taking over him more and more with every clench of your cunt around him. 
“- Fuck, angel… Tell me you love me please…”
You didn’t want to, because you knew how that would make both of you feel, but the words spilled out from your lips before you could stop it, squeezing his hands tighter. 
“- I love you, I love you so much…”
It was enough for Yunho to feel a rush of emotions and desire flood through his veins, his thrusts becoming sloppy and losing any kind of rhythm. It all felt too much, from the way he was hitting your sweet spot to the way his little whines mixed with “i love you”’s that made your heart throb and your mind wanting to hear more of them. It all felt too much to the point you felt on the verge of tears as he laid on top of you, trying to regain some consciousness. But you were fully aware of everything that had just happened, and even if you wanted nothing more than to spend another night in his arms, you knew it wouldn’t do you any good. So you stayed like that until he fell asleep, murmuring again and again against your skin how much you meant to him, that he needed you. And then you ran away, putting your clothes back on in a hurry and checking out your appearance in the mirror of the elevator you had grown familiar with. Except that this time, there was nothing left from the joyful sparkle that usually brightened your eyes whenever you left the hotel. All you could see was how miserable he made you once again, all you could see were the tears cascading down your cheeks and along the marks he left on your neck. You slapped your hand on your mouth, pathetically trying to cover up your sobs. It hurt even more than that day, for some reasons. It all hurt too much to hold it in. 
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When Yunho woke up in the morning to an empty bed, he was not surprised, but he was still disappointed. He wished he could have woken up one last time to your pretty and relaxed face, he wished he could have held you through the night one last time. Even if it happened only a few times, when you were too tired to go back to your dorms, it still felt incredibly right to open his eyes and see you all cuddled up against him. Getting up and leaving the room he had so many memories in revealed to be a lot more difficult than he thought it would have been. He took his time getting dressed and making sure he didn’t forget anything before slowly closing the door behind him. Taking a quick look at his reflection in the elevator’s mirror like you did only a few hours ago was enough to notice how wretched he was. His hair were a mess, his eye bags were even worse than a few days before despite him having overslept, and his clothes were wrinkled. But the way it was written all over his face was even more telling. 
The ride back to his apartment was like a walk of shame - because he had promised to his girlfriend that he would be back before 2am, because he made you suffer again, because he felt like shit, like there was no escape from this situation he put himself in. Yunho only had time to hope that Hana was still asleep but as soon as he opened the door, she jumped from her spot on the couch where she had apparently spent a lot of time worrying, seeing how panicked she seemed. 
“- Where were you !? You told me you would be back last night and it’s fucking 10am, Yunho !”
Her anger was totally justified, but the only thing he wanted to do right now was to just be swallowed by the floor, or to curl up in his bed and not get up for the next three years. 
“- I’m sorry, baby, I…
- You what !? It’s the fourth time you’re pulling something like that on me this month, what is going on !?”
Yunho was ready to serve her another well prepared lie, the ones he kept on telling her since he started ditching her to be with you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say that they all got back to one of his coworkers apartment to keep drinking after the bar closed, and that his phone died so he couldn’t warn her about it, and that he was too drunk and out of his mind to think about borrowing one of his colleagues’. He couldn’t lie to her right now, he couldn’t anymore. And as if it was now a habit every time you sneaked into his mind, he felt tears prickling his eyes, dropping his head low like the coward he was because he couldn’t bear to see her hurt, to see her crying because of him too. And as it had become quite usual for him through the course of these last weeks, apologies slipped past his lips. 
“- I’m sorry Hana, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry… 
- Yunho… Tell me what happened, talk to me. You’ve been so distant and quiet lately, it’s not like you to be so… So absent.”
He wanted to answer, to finally tell her the truth, to tell her everything, but he couldn’t get any word to leave his mouth, only quiet sobs resonating in the hallway as he tried to stop the tears from running down his cheeks. Slowly, Hana got closer to him, taking his hands in hers and guiding him to the couch where he sat down without any resistance and let her pull him into a hug. She could hear his voice shaking and breaking down everytime he let out another apology. It took a long moment for Yunho to finally be able to calm down and find his words back. And when he did, it didn’t make things easier, it didn’t make telling her easier. 
“- I… I met someone.”
The sad but knowing smile spreading on her lips told him everything he needed to know. Because, of course, she was not dumb. Of course, she had understood a long time ago what was going on. Of course, Yunho was the only asshole, the only one to blame for everything he put her, and you, through. 
“- I expected you to say that. 
- I’m so fucking sorry, Hana. I never meant for that to happen, I hadn’t even thought about doing that before I met her. And once it started I couldn’t stop, and when I wanted to tell you everything, it was already too late to not hurt you, and I just got carried away. I’m sorry, I really didn-
- Stop ! Just… Stop.”
So Yunho did, anxiously watching her as she ran a hand through her hair, probably trying to come up with an easy way to tell him that he was a bastard. Which he was, to be honest. 
“- I’m not an idiot. I know that you stopped loving me years ago, Yunho. And I’m not blind either, I saw how you got that sparkle in your eyes back one day, and I knew very well it was not because of me. And before you say anything about being sorry, I know it. I know you are, and I know that you wouldn’t have wanted to hurt me even if I’m just a friend in your eyes. 
- Hana…
- Don’t look at me like that, it’s not a big deal. We’ve been a couple since highschool, it was impossible for us to keep on loving each other until the end of times. I stopped feeling any romantic feelings a while ago, too. Our families are simply what they are, and we can’t change them. But I’m kind of glad you gave us a valid excuse to break up.”
Yunho couldn’t help the giggles that escaped him. She always had that dark humour that he loved so much, and that nobody got except for him and her. 
“- You did not just forgive me for cheating on you because you wanna break up, right ?
- Oh, I certainly did !”
Both of them laughed it off, and it was like a weight was lifted off of his chest, like he could finally breathe a little better. Not as well as when he was with you, but it was a little less bad, now. 
“- You’re sure you wanna do this ? You know how much trouble we’re gonna get into if we break up, right ?
- I know, and trust me when I tell you that I’ve thought about it a lot before. And I’m ready, I don’t want them to dictate my life anymore. I think you can understand that better than everyone else.
- Yeah.”
Silence fell back onto the room, and Yunho never felt more at home in his own apartment than after having agreed to break up with his years-long relationship. But he knew it was better like that, knew that they both needed to finally close this chapter of their life and take a new beginning. 
“- We’re still friends, though, right ? I still need to hear you spill all the tea about your weird coworkers.”
Hana laughed loudly, and the smile spreading on her lips had never been this wide since so much time that he almost forgot what she looked like when she was happy. 
“- Of course ! And I wanna know all the updates about that girl, because she must be brave to want to engage in a relationship with you.”
It was his turn to smile and let happiness fill him again. Why he waited so much time to finally be honest with her when it was clear that they had no feelings for each other anymore would certainly forever be an enigma. But at least, they were both free. At least, Hana could find someone that will truly love her, that will love her like she deserved to be loved. And Yunho didn’t know if that would be enough to convince you that he was serious about you, that he truly loved you, but he had to try. Because you were worth every tear he shed, and all the pain in the world. He would go through these weeks of anguish again and again if it meant you would take him back. 
But Yunho had always been a gentleman - and yeah, it was ironic to describe himself like that after everything he had done - and he let you have as much time as you needed, as much space as you asked for. And even when the urge of letting you know about everything that happened was strong, he resisted the temptation to call you, or to send you a text he knew you would not read because you stopped doing that since that night. 
Everytime his gaze crossed yours in class, it was as if the first time he kissed you in that empty classroom replayed in his mind, it was as if he could still see himself wearing his leather jacket more often only because it still smelled like you and your perfume, it was as if he could still hear you say you loved him for the first time. Everytime his gaze crossed yours in class, he wished you wouldn’t shy away, he wished you wouldn’t look so hurt, he wished he could go back in time and not do all the mistakes he did, he wished he could do everything right and make you happy, and love you right. 
Still, he let you run away after every class so you wouldn’t risk staying in his presence too much. Still, he let you slip through his hands a little more every time you answered his questions about books he had given to you without that energy and passion you had when it was only the two of you in that hotel room, when everything was still perfect. But it also felt like if he didn’t do something right now, you were gonna leave and never come back in his life. He had to do something, he had to stop being a loser, he had to show you that you were never the second choice. 
You were surprised to find another bouquet of lilies on your doorstep before going to class on a random Wednesday. It had been weeks since you last talked to him outside of classes, and it had been more than two months since you last looked at his texts. You weren’t strong enough to block his number again, but you tried not to open the messages anymore. This time there was something written on a little note ; him asking you to meet him by the hill he showed you the night it all went down if you were willing to listen to him, and that if you didn’t come, he would understand that you didn’t want to see him again and that he would leave you alone, no questions asked. 
You thought that you would hesitate more, but in your heart, you had already made the decision to go as soon as you saw the bouquet of your favourite flowers he managed to remember even months after you told him. When you parked your car at the spot he had showed you, his was already there. Yunho was waiting for you, contemplating the cityscape, leaning against the hood of his car, hands in the pockets of his black pants, his white tee moving along with the wind. He looked good in anything, but these simple outfits were always making him look so cosy that you wanted nothing more than snuggling in his arms. 
The warmer wind of the end of spring hit your face as soon as you put your feet outside, the breeze making your hair and the skirt of your flowy dress fly around like you were in some type of dramatic movie. Expect that in those, it always ended well, and that you knew for a fact that your happy end was impossible. But Yunho turned to look at you almost in slow motion, and this time, you couldn’t avoid his intense stare, and this time, you wanted to dive back into whatever the two of you had. 
“- You came.”
His voice was steady, but you could still hear the relief seeping through his words.
“- You asked.”
It was as simple as that, as simple as breathing and walking, as simple as reading and writing. He asked, he called, and you were there in a heartbeat because you would sell your soul for him. 
“- We broke up. We agreed that we didn’t love each other anymore for a long time, and that it was the best decision for both of us.”
You wanted to be sarcastic, wanted to tell him something along the lines of “you want a medal or something”, but it was only because you didn’t know how to deal with that information. Because you didn’t know if it meant anything to him, if it meant anything to you. Before you could think about a kinder response, Yunho continued. 
“- I told you I was willing to do everything if it meant I could be with you, and I was serious. This is the first step, and I’m gonna go all the way even if you’re not willing to give me a second chance because you made me realise how wrong I was all this time.
- But you have a family, friends and a job. You won’t give all that up for me, I don’t want you to. 
- Angel, I’m taking all these risks because it’s for you, because I want you to see that I’m ready to do anything it takes to be with you, and that I’ll keep proving that you didn’t make a mistake by choosing me if you’re letting me come back into your life. My family gave up on me a long while ago, it’s only time for them to understand everything they put me through. And I believe that my friends will be wise enough to choose to support me, because you’re my happiness, and that’s what they should wish for me. 
- Yes, but you’ll still be my teacher. 
- I’ve been your teacher until then and it didn’t cause any problems, did it ? And even if I got in trouble, I know we would figure something out. You mean everything to me Y/N, and I will spend the rest of my life making myself worthy of you if you let me because I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else before.”
Your mind wanted you to say no, but your heart was begging for you to say yes, to give in, to let yourself be happy. And for once, you decided to stop being reasonable. For once, you decided to let things go, to let him guide you through it, to let yourself live.
“- You already are. You’ve always been worthy of me, Yu. I-I love you too, I love you so much.”
This time, when tears started to run down your cheeks, Yunho didn’t hesitate one second before pulling you into his arms, running his fingers against your back to soothe you. The way you immediately circled his waist to have him closer to you made his heartbeat pick up, and you chuckled lightly against his chest when you noticed it. And you stayed like that for who knows how long. The only thing you were aware of was that you’ve never felt as good as when you were in his arms. And maybe it was wrong, maybe it was a mistake. But it felt just right, it clicked perfectly, like the last pieces of a puzzle you had forgotten on your desk for years and that you finally came back to complete only now. When you raised your head to look him in the eyes, Yunho smiled, and you couldn’t help doing the same, especially when he kissed your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. 
“- In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
You wanted to slap him for being so cheesy, but the way your heart missed a couple of beats at the intensity with which he was looking into your eyes rendered you unable to talk, unable to think about some quote to say back to him. 
“- If you keep on confessing to me like that, I might give in, you know…
- Don’t worry about that, angel, I have a ton of citations you’re gonna love.”
His boyish grin made you smile wider, and you couldn’t help the urge to kiss him again, because now you had the right to do so. Being the teacher’s pet had its downsides, but in terms of love confessions, you were certain that Yunho would never run out of ideas. And you were okay with that, because as long as he was with you and that you were with him, there was no way something would go wrong. You smiled at him, and he smiled at you, and as the sun set behind you like in the romance movies you despised, you thought that maybe, happy endings were not so bad in the end, especially when you were the one getting kissed passionately at the end of the film.
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-> i don't allow any copies, translations or reposts of my work.
-> moon dividers by @samspenandsword
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ateez masterlist (fill in this to be added) :
@sharonxdevi @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @foxinnie8 @riraives
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astraystayyh · 7 months
Text
Echoes of love
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"to love someone is firstly to confess : i am prepared to be devastated by you."
Chapter i. to forget
genre : memory loss trope. angst. slow burn. unrequited love except you were in a loving relationship and everything changes overnight.
pairing : minho x reader.
summary : if given the choice would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.
cw : depiction of a car accident. mention of blood and physical wounds. depiction of a nightmare and anxiety attack. reader has she/her pronouns.
word count : 14.8k words.
song recs : the night we met/terrible love/black friday/cover me.
a.n: she's here, she's yours, i hope you'll enjoy reading one of the most challenging things I've ever wrote :') your feedback is highly appreciated <3
special thanks to @forlix for going through this journey with me, i love you thank you, seriously, you mean the world to me. and to @dorisnumber1fan for listening to my initial rants about this fic, and all the ones i ever write. i love you and appreciate you so much, more than i could explain <3
quotes series masterlist. next chapter.
Day 1.
You're floating in a dark void, save for the specks of light swirling around you. A peculiar serenity fills your being, a tranquility unlike any you’ve ever known. It’s as though your body isn’t your own; but rather an otherworldly vessel, calmly traversing the cosmos, dancing in constellations with the stars that encircle you.
A sudden electrifying warmth surges from your hand, traveling down the contours of your knuckles, melting into the lines of your palm. It pulsates within your being as if you’re holding the Earth's very core between your fingers. You stir from your ethereal orbit, longing to break apart from the celestial lights, to reunite with your body once again.
The warmth intensifies, causing your fingers to involuntarily clench. A deluge of radiance enfolds you, drawing you into a luminous hole. You squint your eyes, drinking in the light- your first breath.
Your eyes flutter open in a daze, your throat parched, rasping like sandpaper against your vocal cords. White encompasses you yet again, from the high ceilings to the pristine bed you’re lying on. It takes you a few blinks to grasp your new environment- an unfamiliar hospital room. You wearily close your eyes, hoping for the stillness to return, aching for the peace you felt within your bones mere moments ago.
But to no avail; only the tingling sensation remains.
You tilt your head, eyebrows shooting upwards as you notice a hand clasping yours. A figure lies their forehead beside your body, black disheveled locks tickling your palm.
The warmth, you understand where it comes from now.
You attempt to slip your hand out of theirs, prompting the man to awaken with a jolt, surprise dancing across his features as his gaze meets yours. Dark circles adorn his face- testimonies to days of fatigue imprinted upon every feature of his. Yet, all of it dissipates as he gazes at you, lips slightly parted, bunny teeth peeking out. His face transforms into a radiant smile, stirring a mysterious longing within your soul- it brushes against your fingertips before slipping beyond your reach. 
"You're awake," he whispers in awe, and your tiredness renders you mute. You point to your throat, hoping that he'll understand what you need. "Water? Is- Is that what you want?" he asks, a touch too eager, fingers running through his hair in sheer disbelief. You nod and he rises swiftly, pouring you a glass of water and bringing it to your lips.
You sip diligently as his hand caresses the crown of your hair, the warmth now traveling to the top of your head. You feel lightheaded as if the blood in your veins has thickened, the very life in you slowed to a faint whisper. Yet, a timid relief emerges as your thirst is finally quenched.
"I'll- I'll go call the doctor," he tells you, his beaming smile unwavering. It’s too bright, everything around you is, and you feel a throbbing headache growing at your temple’s base.
It's a mere minute before the man returns, a doctor and two nurses on his trail. You float within a haze as the nurse shines a beam of light in your eyes. The response of your pupils seems to please her.
"Do you remember what happened?" the doctor inquires and you frown. You've been racking your brain for an explanation as to why you're here, but to no avail. You shake your head.
"What's your name," he proceeds, lips growing into a thin line.
"Y/n, Y/l/n," you respond, your voice sounding foreign to your ears, as though it hasn’t left the confines of your throat for ages. You miss the darkness; you want to sleep again.
"What date are we?"
Your eyebrows knit together as you try to think of an answer. "The 20th or maybe the 21st September."
"What year?"
"2022."
An eerie silence falls upon the room, a stillness resembling the one of your dreams; but it isn’t comforting, on the contrary, it fills your being with an unsettling dread, one that trickles inside you with each second spent in silence. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. You close your eyes to avoid the sorry ones of the nurse.
"We need to run you an MRI scan," the doctor finally speaks up, tone somber. "It appears you're suffering from retrograde amnesia. But we have to make sure."
It takes time for the words to permeate your consciousness, for the syllables to settle in and start to make sense. Amnesia.
What have you forgotten?
“What…” you chuckle warily, fingers reaching up to soothe your throbbing forehead. “What year is it?”
"It's the 24th of September 2023. You were in a severe car accident two days ago, a drunk truck driver rammed into your car on your way home. You have a fractured rib and extensive leg injury, but no broken bones thankfully. We'll get you to the scan shortly, okay?" he speaks easily as if announcing that you've missed the rain while asleep. As if it’s not a year’s worth of memories you’ve seemingly forgotten, erased in the span of a blink, akin to footprints on sand washed away by the waves. Nothing of importance.
"So, you don't... remember me?" a soft voice quivers, barely above a whisper, and your eyes meet those of the man who’s been at your side, temporarily forgotten in the conversation.
His question is laced with a grave fear, evident in his dilated pupils and trembling hands. A lump blooms in your throat, its thorns pricking at your voice. You aren’t sure you want to answer that question.
"I- I don't."
"Oh."
You’ve never known that a human could crumble in silence, in an imperceptible gasp, so small you almost did not hear it. A crestfallen expression materializes on his face in the span of a heartbeat, features coming together in the rawest expression of anguish you’ve ever seen. You bite your lip.
"Who- Who are you?" you implore, urgency inflecting your tone, hoping that he's no one of importance. Someone who helped you when you got into a car accident. Someone minor who you wouldn't fault your brain for forgetting.
"I was... I-I am your boyfriend. Minho," he utters his name like a broken plea, eyes slightly widening to gauge your reaction. As though those two syllables hold within them a myriad of memories, ones you simply cannot forget.
You don't remember.
The doctor was right in his diagnosis. The scan showed unusual activity within your brain, characteristic of post-traumatic amnesia. You listened numbly as he cited the precautions you should take to heal your physical wounds- to rest, not carry anything heavy, ice your lungs, and go on walks. But you did not care for the state of your body, you’ve bruised it before and it has healed in its own time. It will do it again; it is a familiar path you’ve already undergone. But what about your memory? Your mind that robbed you of a year of your life? How do you get it back?
“There is no guarantee you’d remember. There is also no treatment for amnesia. We advise that you focus on healing first. Do not strain your mind,” your doctor smiled, before leaving the room. His silver wedding band shined mockingly underneath your eye. He doesn’t know what it’s like to forget the lover awaiting you at home.
Minho dutifully sat by your side, nodding along to the doctor’s words. He signed your discharge papers and settled your bills before you could protest, and he was now pushing your wheelchair through the hospital's corridors. You didn’t know what to say to him- how do you talk to a stranger who uttered your name with love dripping between its letters?  
In the hospital’s parking lot, Minho pauses, squatting before you. His eyes are puffy, red veins contrasting against the pristine whites, betraying the tears he must have shed when he excused himself to the toilet.
You suddenly want to beg for a reprieve; it is too much pain for one day, too much for one soul to bear. But it is only six p.m. and Minho's gaze holds you captive, a new emotion dancing in his brown irises- grief. He's looking at you as though you're a phantom, gone when you are still very much breathing.
“We've been together for eleven months, and we moved in together two months ago,” he licks his lips nervously. “You have a two-month medical leave, and I- I don’t want to leave you alone, while you recover. So, you can think of us as… as roommates.” The word felt heavy on his tongue, a fresh wave of tears brimming in his waterline. He swiftly blinks them away.
Your parents are in a faraway city, so is your best friend. You were the one who decided to move somewhere so far, to flee from the skeletons threatening to spill out of your closet. You don't want to burden anyone. You just want to rest.
You nod in agreement and Minho attempts to smile. It is a useless effort; one he quickly gives up. There was nothing to be joyous about.
Minho takes your hand, gently helping you to your feet. He opens the door to his car, and you settle into the passenger seat. It smells pleasant, an apple-scented diffuser dangling from the rearview mirror. Yet, as Minho closes the door, the scent suddenly suffocates you. Your lungs ignite, consuming your oxygen to douse their rising flames. You can no longer breathe inside, panic rippling in your heart violently, pushing at your ribs, begging for an escape. You open the door, collapsing to your knees as a violent coughing fit overtakes you. You blindly clutch at Minho’s arm and he tumbles to the ground with you. 
The ugly sob that had been trapped within your throat finally escapes, and passersby pay you no mind. It must be usual to hear gut-wrenching cries in a hospital parking lot. But Minho seems to care, as his hands soothingly rub your back, undergoing a steadfast path from the nape of your neck down the base of your spine. He’s not panicking and his touch appears to instinctively know how to speak to your sadness, how to soothe your sorrow with unheard words.
You imagine it's not his first time comforting you, and the thought only forces another sob from the depths of your soul, as Minho pulls you up once again. He sits your shaky figure on the wheelchair, closing the car doors.
“We can walk,” he tells you gently, and despite the quietness of his voice, it manages to break through your raging storm. A singular sun ray parting the gloomy clouds.
“It’s okay, I’ll... I’ll suck it up”
"You've been through a terrible car accident, and I won't let you sit here and panic, especially when your wounds are still fresh and your mind is trying to protect you."
His tone is resolute, eyes blazing with determination as he looks at you. You can only nod in response. So, Minho pushes your wheelchair to his house. He doesn’t huff, nor complain about the autumn sun scorching his skin, the effort to push you for the entirety of the road, and then inside his building. He only smiles when his eyes meet yours in the elevator mirror.
He’s tentative as he opens the door to his apartment, hand tightly gripping the keys before turning them, as if preparing himself for a bigger heartbreak, one that lies within what was once his sanctuary- yours too, you suppose.
Minho pushes you inside, pausing near the entrance as your eyes drink in the interior. He seems to await something, perhaps for you to remember the place you’ve called home for the past months. A few seconds pass, and he clears his throat, holding your arm to guide you forward. He avoids your gaze as you both venture in.
“This is the kitchen,” he points to a small kitchenette, where a flower bouquet seems to have wilted, much like the man near you- his emotions now diluted, eyes dimmed as they glaze over the walls. You spot your favorite mug on the racks, one that resembles a fairy mushroom. The sight of it makes your heart clench in your chest. So, this is your home, after all.
You leave the kitchen and walk down a narrow hallway when you stumble on your feet. “Easy, honey,” Minho cautions, and your hold on his forearm falters. He blinks at you before gazing up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry, force of habit.”
“It’s okay,” you reply in a small voice.
Minho leads you to the living room, cream-colored sofas with a navy blanket on top, multiple fuzzy pillows scattered all around. A tulip field painting graces the accent blue wall- your favorite flower, two matching slippers rest by the couch, racks of your novels adjacent to his collection of cookbooks, you assume. 
It is all the more evident to you that you’ve both lived here, lives intertwining so seamlessly into one another. The place radiates comfort and warmth, but it refuses to penetrate your being, as if you’re harboring a shield of oblivion, ricocheting off any touch of remembrance. You’re an intruder, standing in stark contrast to the inviting coziness that envelops you.
“I like that wall,” you say in an attempt to lighten the stuffy atmosphere.
“We painted it together,” Minho smiles sadly, and your remorse seems to liquify, blending in with the blood running through your veins.
From the corner of your eyes, you spot three furry masses bolting towards you, small paws clawing at your feet. You feel another dent add to your heart, so much you are sure it would blow away at the tiniest gust of wind. Just how much have you forgotten?
“We… We had cats?” you ask breathlessly, eyes widening as you take in the two orange felines, and the gray, much smaller one.
“These are mine, but you also adopted them, in a way,” he explains, crouching down to pet his cats, scratching the sensitive spot behind their ears. He is tender with them and they appear at ease in his presence. You realize you’ve felt the same since you’ve woken up.
“Hey, my babies,” he coos softly. “Mom- I mean y/n- is tired so let’s give her some space, okay?” he quickly corrects, before gently pushing the cats away from your feet.
Minho shows you the bathroom before leading you to the bedroom- it's a bit untidy, worn clothes thrown on the ground, some of your accessories tossed on top of the vanity. As if the room was also frozen in time, awaiting your return to resume its familiar course.
“You'll sleep here and I'll just take the couch,” Minho interrupts your thoughts as he gently sits you atop the bed.
"But-"
"I’ll make you dinner so you can take your medication, okay?” he ignores your objections, adjusting two pillows behind your back to help you sit up straight, just like the doctor cautioned. His necklace, adorned with your initial, brushes against your cheek. “Try to sleep meanwhile. You need to rest.”
“Minho this is too much-"
“It’s not. If you need anything just call me over, I’ll leave the door open,” he says, tucking you in beneath the blanket. 
“I don’t want to burden you,” you finally admit, voice slightly raised so he’d finally listen.
“Y/n, I love you.” He speaks so suddenly, fists balled on either side of your body. “And this is what I do for the person I love. I… I don’t know how to not care for you, don’t take that away from me, please. Please,” he repeats, voice faltering under the weight of his plea. 
"Okay," you concede. 
You can't quite remember that first night, the morphine injected into your veins made you ebb and flow out of consciousness, only recollecting small fragments of the hours flowing by.
But you remember the dull pain settling into your bones, one you knew would accompany you for the following weeks. You remember the thoughts swirling in your mind like a tempest- your near brush with death, how she almost trapped you into her icy hold; the year of memories gone with the wind, as if they were never yours to begin with; and the stranger whose home you are in now, the very one who took care of you throughout the night.
And you can't perfectly recall it, but you swear Minho stayed by your side until the early hours of the morning, warm hand pressed to your forehead to check your temperature, cold tears falling on your arm as he laid his head next to your sleeping body.
Day 2.
You miss being asleep the second you wake up in.
Every fiber of your being aches, as though pain has latched itself into every muscle, its grip unrelenting now that the morphine's comforting veil has lifted. You drag a hand tiredly across your face, tears of frustration welling like dewdrops in your eyes. It's only 10 a.m. Far too early for one's spirit to crumble.
A bright post-it note on the bedside table catches your weary gaze. "I went to drop your medical leave at your work. I've made you breakfast it's in the kitchen. Don't forget to drink your medicine, I'll be home soon"
What home was Minho referring to, exactly? Because this one wasn’t yours, and neither was the one back in your hometown. Were you destined to be a passerby in temporary places, always lingering near the door, ready to put your shoes back on and leave at any moment?
10:03. Still too early.
You find solace in having two months off of your work. You couldn’t bear being somewhere where everybody knew you for months, while your memories of them span but mere weeks. The expectations they would have, the pressure to conform, to mirror the footsteps of your past self was an unbearable burden. What if she was better than you? Made better choices, spoke more eloquently? What if you couldn't live up to the image they had conjured? What if you couldn't face the repercussions of your past actions?
10:07. You need to shower.
You slowly ease yourself off the bed, careful not to put pressure on your injured leg, avoiding even the slightest exhalation. You pretend as if nothing’s happening as you pick up a pair of pajamas that you recognize from the closet – a familiar relic from the life you’ve always known.
It's a charade, you’re aware of it. You're but treading on fragile ice, your pain threatening to shatter the frozen façade beneath your feet, plunging you into the frigid truth at any given moment.
You walk into the shower, attempting to rinse the day's tiredness away. But moving your limbs is a strenuous task, and you can't reach over your head to wash your hair. You let out a dry chuckle as the water runs over your back, splattering across the white tiles.
Your heart swells in your chest, an uncomfortable weight pressing against your fractured ribs. Still, it beats, and you cling with all your might to this one silver lining.
Minho has made you pancakes, not the most nutritious meal but the only one you can stomach on your sick days. He's also brewed you tea, a singular sugar cube resting at the bottom of your cup, just the way you like it. Your grip on your fork tightens, knuckles paling. You wish he had put three sugar cubes, or that he made you anything but pancakes, something to reassure you that he didn’t know you so intimately. That your mind hasn’t stolen a love where every detail of you was known. 
The door opens, keys clinking on a solid surface. The sound of it tugs at your heart ever so faintly, a distant bell ringing somewhere far- it quiets down before you even realize it is there.
“Good morning,” Minho greets, the corners of his mouth curving upward although his eyes remain downcast, redness tinging its outlines. You look down at your cup, unable to hold his wounded stare.
“Good morning. Thank you for the breakfast and for going to my work. I really appreciate it,” you say.
“It's nothing. Your coworkers wish you a speedy recovery.”
“Mm,” you murmur. “That's nice of them."
“Here,” he slides a phone across the table. “I bought you a new one since your phone’s screen was smashed in the car accident, but I took it to a repair shop. Maybe they’d manage to fix it.”
You go to protest when he shakes his head, silencing you. “Don’t say It’s too much.”
A surprised giggle escapes your lips at his accurate prediction, momentarily halting Minho in his tracks. You swallow the sound down as Minho clears his throat, dissipating your laughter into thin air. “I put my phone number there. Also, the ones of your family that I have. Always call me if you need anything, okay?” he pauses, locking your eyes with his. “Anything.”
“It's okay, I really don't want to bother you. You might be busy."
“I’ll still answer,” he quickly responds. “I’ll always answer you.” 
There is a certain sincerity that coats Minho's words, one that softens the edges of his letters, making them easier to permeate your being, to sink into the seas of your soul.
“Minho,” you call out gently.
“Yes, hon- " He inhales deeply, eyes looking anywhere but at you. “Yes, Yn?”
“Thank you, for everything.”
“Of course.”
The ensuing hours blur into a hazy dance, in which you’re only awakened by Minho’s warm hand on your shoulder, as he brings you lunch, then dinner to your room, paired with the medicine you need to take. He doesn’t talk to you, only carrying out the tray outside when he deems you asleep- as if tiptoeing near your existence, afraid he’d slip into you again, knowing you won’t be there to catch him.
It's nearly midnight when you leave your room to use the bathroom. You pause near the door when you spot Minho petting his cats. You don’t even know their names, you haven’t dared to ask, still foolishly holding on to the hopes that this is but a horrible nightmare, one clawing at your tender skin even after you rose.
“You’re sad, aren’t you?” he coos softly, and the cats respond with plaintive mewls as if understanding his words. “Mm. I’m really sad too,” his voice is barely above a whisper, as though it’s a confession he isn’t ready to speak out loud. The pain in your ribs intensifies.
“But it’s okay, she’ll remember us. We are her family, she can’t forget us forever, right?” your breathing hitches. “Right,” he adds softly, as if to reassure himself; to inflate hope in a heart deserted by you.
Day 3.
Minho threw away the wilted flowers, leaving the vase bare at the center of the kitchen table. 
You almost wish he hadn't- those lifeless blooms were the sole reflection of your faded spirit within this home. Now everything in the house seemed alive, grand windows ushering in daylight to cascade upon the living space, causing the ivory walls to glisten. Everything, except for you and Minho, two ghosts skirting along the existence of one another.
There is, was, love imprinted in this house. You could sense it though you couldn’t feel it anymore. By the two cat mugs that connect through their tails, your products intermingling with Minho's in the bathroom sink, the notes you found hung on the fridge- some with his handwriting, most with yours, reminding Minho how much you loved him.
Where did all that love go? Did it dissipate into thin air, gone as if it had never existed? Has it turned into something else, lurking beneath the surface of your skin, waiting for you to remember?
You can’t find the answers, and as Minho finishes up his breakfast, you find yourself longing to ask him about the past year. Who you were and what you’ve lived. But you know it’ll feel like salt on a wound, akin to bringing a mirror before his face, reminding him of all that's been lost.
So instead, you offer to wash the dishes. He refuses, not that you expected anything else given his attentiveness to you.
“It’s only two plates and two cups, I can do it,” you insist, but he just stares blankly at you, before motioning to your ribs, and your swollen ankle. “It’ll be quick, please. I-I want to do it.”
“Fine,” he concedes, gaze softening. “But if you feel pain you'll stop.”
“Okay,” you smile tentatively, eager for the sense of normalcy that this mundane act would bring. You haven't forgotten how to wash a cup, at least.
Five minutes pass, and you suddenly freeze, plates drying in your hands. You have no idea where the dishes go.
This was your home, yet you can't even remember which cupboard holds the plates. 
Silent tears flow down your cheeks and you wipe them away angrily. You clutch the plate in your hands so tightly you’re surprised it hasn’t shattered. You selfishly wish it did- you were tired of being the sole broken entity in this house.
A small whimper escapes your lips, startling Minho who was mindlessly scrolling through his phone. He rushes to your side, brows furrowed, concern woven into his face. 
“What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor?” he questions; eyes raking through your figure anxiously.
You shake your head as your tears double over. You can feel your heart constricting in your chest, longing for comfort, for a missing piece that was snatched from you, the void it left behind pulsating achingly within your being.
“I-I don’t know where the dishes go, and yesterday I tried to w-wash my hair and I c-couldn’t do it,” you admit through hiccups, plate still in your hands. Minho gently takes it from your tight hold, and your pinky brushes against his palm. He flexes his hand at the touch.
“It’s okay, it’s my fault. I should've shown you,” his voice is gentle, reminding you of how one soothes a child during a tantrum. You're embarrassing yourself but you can't find it in you to care. 
“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t p-put them back in their place,” you choke out, head turned down, tears ricocheting off sage tiles. You’ve always wanted a green kitchen. You’ve gotten it and you can’t remember.
“It’s okay, I’ll put them back. Shh, yn, please don’t cry.” He’s slightly panicking, hands tightly fisted near his body as if he’s afraid they’d act on their own accord, reaching out to touch you the way they’ve done the past few months. He sighs softly before taking a cautious step toward you. 
“I’ll wash your hair for you,” he offers, smiling tenderly at you, knuckles brushing ever so gently against your cheeks. “Hm? You can sit in front of the sink and I’ll wash it.”
“You’d do it?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
There is a softness that emanates from every atom of Minho, flowing from his fingertips, molding everything he touches. You were sure of it as he stood beside you, pouring shampoo over your hair with you sitting on a stool, head tilted back to the sink, your favorite song playing in the background. As he dried your hair with a warm towel, and then settled behind you on the bed, gently lathering your hair with your familiar serum, brushing your strands with care, avoiding any tugs that might pain you.
Everything Minho does is not to hurt you. 
You went to sleep with the ghost of his fingers lingering on your scalp, his warm breath still caressing the back of your neck. You found slumber came much easier to you that night. You account it to your hair finally being clean.
Day 4.
“Yn?” Minho calls out gently, his head peering through the bedroom door.  “Should we go on a walk? Just around the block, the doctor said it’d be good.”
“Sure,” you nod, glancing at the bedside clock. 9:43 p.m. it reads. 
“Dress warmly, it’s cold outside,” he advises softly before leaving.
A few minutes later, you're clad in a gray university hoodie that drapes slightly past your thighs and a pair of matching sweatpants. Minho halts in his tracks upon seeing you, his eyes racking furiously over your figure. He shakes his head, swallowing a growing lump of despair. 
“Wait here,” he whispers, vanishing into his room, leaving you fidgeting in place. An orange cat sidles up to your feet and you slowly bend down to scratch its ears. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you,” you smile sadly and he purrs in response, as if forgiving you for forgetting.
You wished you could forgive yourself too, one day.
Minho comes back, a red scarf in his hands. He steps forward until only a few inches are separating your bodies. With attentive care, he wraps the scarf around your neck, securing it in place. His brows furrow as he loops the fabric through and you release a small, shaky exhale.
There is a fog dissipating before your eyes, a misty veil lifted off your irises. In the four days you've known Minho, you always willed yourself to not look at him for too long, afraid of the pain you'd discern brewing over his figure, the shadows cast across his face.
But now, he stands so near that you cannot help but look at him. Wispy black bangs fall on top of his forehead, framing his rich honey eyes. His long eyelashes flutter with each blink, pupils dilated like a constellation-laden night sky. The smooth bridge of his high nose, dotted with the smallest mole; a well-defined cupid's bow outlining rosy, plump lips. He’s beautiful, even in his sadness; with sunken cheekbones and darkened eye circles, the hunch of his back, and the shake in his hands as he gently frees your hair from underneath the scarf.
Was it wrong of you to find beauty in his pain?
His gaze softens when it finally meets yours, his hand still holding your scarf tightly, as if it's a lifeline tethering him to you, one with which he verifies your existence, suddenly so elusive now that it no longer entwines with his.
It must be strange, surely, to grieve the loss of someone who’s still alive, breathing in the room next to yours.
Minho smiles at you, his fingers hovering above your head, as though he wished to smooth down your hair. He retracts his hand back, burying it deep inside the pocket of his black sweatpants, physically trapping it, stopping it from reaching it out to you once again. 
You’ve noticed his reticence to touch you, even when he wakes you in the morning to drink your medicine. His hand never fully rests upon your shoulder, it is only his fingertips that delicately graze your skin. It's as though he’s convinced you're but a figment of his imagination, and he fears that once he touches you, his hand will pass right through your body, shattering the illusion he foolishly held onto.
You blink and Minho’s already three steps away, grabbing his keys and opening the door.
Despite cautioning you against the cold, Minho doesn't say no when you ask for ice cream, paying for it before you can reach the counter. It's an unfamiliar brand, one that he advised you to try, and you don't regret following his choice. It’s a sweet mixture of vanilla and caramelized almonds, coated in rich milk chocolate- you can't stop the happy smile that graces your lips upon tasting it. 
You glance at Minho to find an unprecedented softness coloring his expression, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. It isn't a smile directed at you, but rather an uncontrollable display of his feelings, splashing across his face like paint on a canvas. 
You expect him to swallow this mark of affection down, to conceal it with a placid expression, but he doesn't. He only tilts his chin forward, gesturing to the ice cream.
"Do you like it?"
You hum in agreement, a grin stretching wider on your lips. "I do."
"You did too, back then, when I showed it to you," he says, almost casually, as if referring to a childhood memory that turned out to be more important to him than to you.
"You have good taste," you reply, scrunching your nose playfully at him. The smile slips away from his face, his voice somber when he speaks again. "I really do, don't I?"
Walking with Minho isn't as awkward as you had imagined it might be. He shows you the neighborhood- the nearby playground, the hidden flower shop tucked away in a corner and you make a mental note to visit it later. You point at closed shops inquiring about them- he answers each of your questions diligently.
Your accident is never brought up, and you both tiptoe around the topic, skirting the edge of a dark forest where the light no longer seeps through and dark vines cover the sun. 
You both refuse to venture into the unknown.
"Just down the road, there is a bookstore. They have really great deals and I bought most-" Shouts erupt from somewhere nearby, loud slurred voices of two men under the influence. Your hand instinctively wraps around Minho's forearm, while his hand moves in front of your body, acting as a shield. 
You freeze, letting out a shaky breath. "I- I hate yelling."
"I know," he responds simply, lowering his hand.
He knows you- it is a comforting thought, to realize that you exist beyond the confines of your own mind.
Day 5.
Minho’s staring blankly at his phone, your conversation shining dimly before his eyes. You’ve just sent him a text reassuring him that you indeed took your medicine since he wasn’t home today with you- his three days off work passing by in the blink of an eye. 
In his mind, the past week felt like a mirage, a nightmare woven with intricate threads of his deepest fears- losing you, never getting to see the glimmer in your eyes again, and then looking at it and realizing it is no longer directed at him. 
He exhales softly, tucking his phone into the pocket of his navy trousers. The salty breeze from the nearby lake grazes his senses, and he closes his eyes, yearning for a fleeting respite. 
He purposely avoids watching the sun's descent into the water, which paints the sky in hues of yellow and orange. He no longer finds the sunset unfolding before him captivating, or any other scenery, for that matter, even those he once deemed beautiful. The world, in his eyes, has become lackluster and devoid of vibrancy, overshadowed by a profound sadness he never fathomed would reside in his heart. 
He still doesn’t know how he managed to remain strong until now, tending to you, holding your gaze, and breathing near you when you don’t even remember him.
You’ve survived, he reminds himself, you were lucky enough to be able to draw these breaths. The thought of any other outcome sends uncomfortable shivers down his spine. You’re alive and you’ll be home, he clings to this truth as he starts making his way back to his apartment. 
For how long will this knowledge offer him solace? How long will it push him to face a new day? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he wants to. 
It is much deeper into the night, the sound of the TV playing softly in the background. Minho has given up on slumber since the day of your accident. He was used to the feel of your fingers playing with his hair, your goodnight kisses planted on his forehead, then his on yours. 
He doesn't know how to sleep without burying his head in your neck, your chest, your stomach, wherever he saw fit that day. And he was used to your warmth- the warmth of your body as he pressed it tightly to his, the warmth of your love as you whispered goodnight to him. And the living room feels immensely cold in your absence. 
He fixates his gaze on the ceiling, resolute in his effort to avoid scanning the room. Since every corner he dares to inspect serves as a poignant reminder of the life you both once shared, a life whose echoes still reverberate in the air around him. The sound of your laughter, the memory of your annoyed whines when he teased you a bit too fervently. Vivid recollections unfold before his eyes- your tender kisses exchanged under the fridge's light, warm hugs by the front door after a particularly long day, none of you willing to let go first. 
He remembers your delighted giggles the first time you entered the house. It was still unfurnished, save for a floatable mattress and two empty cups of ramen beside it. But you were happy, immensely so, and your joy seemed to fill every room, painting it with shades of your love. Now the house feels empty- you're here and yet you aren't, and he is still on the sidewalk where he received that fateful call from your hospital. 
The moonlight filters through the window, and Minho looks at the light without truly seeing it. It's as if darkness surrounds him entirely- a bottomless sky where the stars of your affection have fizzled out, so suddenly, leaving him alone to wander blind. He can't help but feel guilty- had he not given you a love worth remembering?
Minho sighs loudly once again, trying to coax the reluctant breaths to escape his body. He pulls himself to his feet to check on you, knowing that you had to sleep upright for the first few days so your ribs would heal properly, which is why he often found himself readjusting your body at night. 
He peeks through the door, the light from the hallway casting an ethereal glow on your body. He frowns when he notices you fidgeting in your sleep, eyebrows knitted together. A soft gasp escapes your lips and Minho hurries to your side. He's witnessed your nightmares before and he knows that this one must be particularly terrifying to elicit such startled sounds from you.
“Y/n,” Minho coaxes gently, but you don’t respond. He presses his palm to your shoulder, shaking you slightly. “Y/n, wake up.” You writhe in your place, fear evident in your features, and Minho grabs both your shoulders, growing more urgent in his attempts to wake you. “Y/n, come on wake up!” he speaks louder, and you startle awake, pushing his arms away.
“I’m... Where am I?” you ask frantically, hand running through your hair. A sharp pain seems to surge through your ribs as you clutch your chest, slightly doubling over. 
“Take it easy, Y/n. Deep breaths,” he wills gently and you raise your head, meeting his eyes. Recognition shines in them, but not love, not anymore. He never knew affection could alter someone’s gaze this much.
“Minho… I- I remember,” you gasp, tears trailing down your face at an alarming rate. He freezes in place, tongue thickening in his mouth, unable to move it.
“What... what do you remember?” he asks carefully, sitting on the edge of your bed. 
“The accident. I remember driving and I… I was going in my lane, I- I didn’t… I wasn’t driving fast, but a truck came out of nowhere and its lights blinded me, and then… it rammed into the passenger seat side of the car and-" Your hands shake as you bring them to your face. “The blood, there was so much blood coming out of me, that’s- that’s the last thing I remember, it was in my hands and my arms and-" You’re wiping frantically at your skin as if erasing remnants of the red liquid only you can see. “I bled so much but I was… I- I don’t-"
“Can I hold your hands?” Minho cuts you off, needing the panic to dissipate from your being.
“Please,” you stutter, and he promptly grabs your hands in his warm ones, intertwining your fingers together, rubbing his thumb soothingly across your palm. 
“You are safe now. You are alive and you are breathing and you are safe.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong, I drove safely, why… why was I hit?” you ask in a small, broken voice, overwhelmed by the unjust reality of the world. Minho swallows his own tears, throwing them down the pits of his pain. The one thing he wished you’d never remember was your accident, the sight of your unconscious body for those three days nearly driving him insane. 
“He was drunk. And he’s in jail now. It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t have prevented it." 
You remain silent, gaze lost on the wall. “Hm? It wasn’t your fault, right?" he presses, squeezing your hand lightly.
“Yeah.” You sigh, unconvinced. Minho reluctantly drops your hand to pour you a glass of water, and you diligently drink it, before curling around yourself in a ball. 
“No, you can’t sit like this,” he gently reprimands and you pout. 
"My heart hurts. The pressure helps."
“I know it does,” he smiles in understanding, “but we have to make sure your ribs won’t hurt more, alright?” he explains as he pulls you upright, tucking pillows beneath your arms. He grabs a hoodie from the closet and rolls it into a ball, placing it gently on your chest. 
“Here, you can hug this instead.” You giggle quietly at the makeshift plushie, but your laughter suddenly morphs into fresh tears, catching him off-guard. 
“I’m so tired, Minho. And I’m so frustrated and mad and sad. Is it possible to f-feel all these things at once?" You hiccup, burying your face into his hoodie, soaking it in tears. 
“It is,” he hums gently, “Do you think it’d help if you talked to a therapist?” He feels you tense up beneath the comforter. “Only if you want to, on your own terms.”
“I’ll think about it,” you whisper. 
“Of course,” he says. “Try to sleep again, mm?”
“I don’t think I can,” you chuckle quietly, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your cardigan. “Do you have work tomorrow?” you ask.
“I do.”
“What do you work as?” 
“Computer programming. I’m also a dance teacher on the side,” he adds quietly, feeling a bit vulnerable at revealing this bit about himself again.
“How do you manage both?” you ask in awe and he shrugs.
 “My IT job leaves me a lot of free time. And I’ve always loved dance, so it doesn’t really feel like a job, you know?”
“Mm, you must work very hard at it. That’s why your body’s so toned,” you say almost absentmindedly, as Minho lets out a surprised chuckle at your words. 
“You think my body is toned?”
“I mean- I didn’t ogle you I just… you know, you wear these fitted shirts it’s hard not to notice your muscles and-"
"You are sick and yet you’re staring at my body?” he tsks. “I feel used.”
“Hey,” you hit him with the hoodie he gave you. “Forget I said anything,” you pout. 
“It’s okay, I work very hard for these, thank you very much,” he flexes slightly, and genuine laughter bubbles up from you both. This might be the one thing he misses the most. 
You both quiet down, silence filling the room once again, but it isn’t awkward, it’s comfortable, almost as if you're the same person he's always known.  
“What’s your favorite color?” you suddenly ask. 
“Purple.”
“Did my favorite color change over this past year?”
“No,” he chuckles, “it’s still that obnoxious orange.”
“It’s not obnoxious, it’s peculiar.”
“it’s weird and it hurts my poor eyes,” he whines, covering his face as if wounded by the mere thought of it. 
“Hey, what if it can hear us and now you just hurt its feelings?”
“Colors have feelings now?” he asks, amused.
“Everything has feelings,” you nod matter-of-factly.
“Okay then think of the feelings of this bed we are both squishing with our weights.”
“Don’t say that. Now I’m sad for it,” you pat the comforter gently, a slight pout tugging at your lips. 
“I think you should sleep,” he smiles and you fake a gasp. “Is my convo boring you?” 
“Yes. Now sleep, Yn,” he brings the comforter up your body, sliding away from the bed. “You’ll be okay, right?”
“Can you… can you sleep here too? I saw the inflatable mattress in the storage room. If that’s not… too much to ask for.”
"Of course not. I'll be back." 
"Thank you, Minho" you smile, lower lip slightly quivering. "Thank you for not being mad at me."
Just how many cracks can one heart bear before breaking beyond repair? Minho thinks he's close to finding out. 
Day 6.
The lights of your dreams have returned, but they are no longer comforting, nor warm, they glare harshly, searing your eyes as they announce your impending doom. Each second draws out in slow-motion and you find yourself counting the breaths you inhale, fearing they may be your last. One in, one out, one in, one out. The moment you dreaded unfolds- the truck collides with your car, flipping it upside down.
However, this time, flames rage within. You know that your car wasn't burned, but they feel terrifyingly tangible as they latch onto your skin. The heat becomes unbearable, you are no longer sure that this is just a mere dream. You try to scream but smokey air fills your lungs instead, robbing you of your ability to speak.
You need to wake up. You need someone to rouse you from this nightmare. Minho. You try to utter his name, but it escapes your lips in a strangled whisper. The lights won.
A cool hand clasps your own, yanking you from the fiery dream, dissolving it like sugar in a hot cup of tea. You startle awake to find Minho hovering over you, brows knitted in concern, his hand tenderly cradling yours.
“Are you okay? Another bad dream?” he inquires and you sigh in response, nodding as your head falls back onto the pillow.
He brushes your hair back, some damp strands still clinging to your sweaty forehead. "You screamed my name. Was I in your nightmare?” he ventures carefully, afraid he was one of the sources of your fear.
“No, I… I thought of you, in my dream,” you reassure, although your words seem to have the opposing effect, making Minho pause in his tracks. You’ve noticed his habit of freezing around you as if needing time to process what you just said. You wonder if you’ve ever came to learn the meaning behind each of his silences, what his blinks convey in ways his tongue fails to.
“You are heating up,” he clears his throat, pressing his hand against your forehead. “Do you wanna shower? I’ll make you tea meanwhile.”
“Okay, yeah. I’d like that,” you nod, glancing at your phone- 3.47 a.m.
Twenty minutes later, you find Minho sitting on the inflatable bed, legs crossed, two steaming mugs of tea before him. He appears drowsy, eyes shutting and reopening as if fending off slumber. It’s almost an endearing sight- the way his bangs fall before his eyes, obstructing his vision, the sleeves of his pullover dangling over his hands, hiding them from your view. He brought the mattress without you asking him to. The attention brings a smile to your face.
“Hi,” you greet softly and Minho looks up, a tender smile on his face. “Hey. Here is your tea.”
“Thank you,” you beam at him, settling on the edge of your bed, legs crisscrossed to mirror his. “I’m sorry that I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep, just resting my eyes.”
“Isn't that what sleep is?” you snort and he chuckles, shaking his head. 
“I was still conscious, you know. I can’t really sleep these days.”
“Is the couch uncomfortable?” you ask, worried, fidgeting with your lower lip.
“It’s not the couch,” he says as his eyes lock on yours, a stare so intense it forces you to look down at your cup. ‘it’s you’, you read in his gaze. You have no answer for that.
“What's your favorite food?” you suddenly wonder.
“Pudding.”
“But that’s dessert?”
“I really like the one you used to make me.”
“I cooked for you? and you liked it?” you giggle. “I’m not really good at it, usually.”
“I taught you some basic skills,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows proudly at you.
“Too bad your effort is now wasted.”
“It’s not a waste if it was done with love,” he pauses, licking his lips. “And I remember it.”
A bittersweet fog shrouds the air- he remembers that memory, but you don’t. Perhaps you will never bridge that gap, no matter how much you want to. The room in your heart may remain forever locked, the gateway to that chamber brimming with your stolen memories. Maybe you're condemned to merely stand before the closed door, straining to hear the echoes of the love that resonates behind, forever just out of reach.
You don’t fall asleep again that night. And as Minho’s quiet snores fill the room, you rummage your mind in search of a pudding recipe, hoping to retrieve the memory he spoke of so tenderly, shaky hands holding his mug tightly. Silent tears trail down your cheeks and you try your best to stifle the sound of your cries. 
You want to make pudding. You want to make him pudding so badly.
Day 7.
It’s been a week since you woke up anew. Seven days adrift in a vast sea where waves of your memories lap at the shores of your mind, unable to breach the walls guarding your recollections of the past year.
Minho took you to the hospital for your weekly check-up. He sat by your side as the doctor reassured you that your ribs were healing relatively well, but you still needed time to recover, time for your body to mend, time for your memories to return. You loathed the waiting, the wasted days slipping through your fingers. You wanted a now. 
But you kept all these thoughts to yourself, thanking the doctor as he exited the room. 
Minho rented a bicycle to drive you around since the thought of being in a car made your anxiety spike. He installed a little seat for you, in that bright, obnoxious orange color you love very dearly. The sight of it nearly brought tears to your eyes this morning.
Minho idly pedaled around, choosing a scenic route, one he knew by heart from the looks of it. You closed your eyes, savoring the last sun rays of the year. Autumn was fading, winter clawing its way into the seasons slowly. You weren’t sure you could handle both the cold and the grief.
Miho took time off work for your doctor's appointment, and you both spent the day around one another, side by side on the couch, a new book in your hands, and an anime playing on the TV for Minho. 
You could see him casting occasional, nervous glances in your direction, as you flipped the pages of the book. You didn’t understand why at first.
But then you did.
You only brought it up at night, when it was past 2 a.m. and you knew that Minho wasn’t sleeping either, the screen of his phone illuminating his face. He left the inflatable mattress in the room, no longer waiting for a nightmare to occur. You weren’t complaining. You desperately needed company.
“Minho,” you call out gently.
“Mm?”
“How did we meet?”
You can hear Minho suck in a deep breath at your question, before placing his phone down, the only light source in the room fizzling out. It made talking easier that way, when only your voices were heard, carried around, as if emitting from two entities that weren’t you both.
“We met… near your old apartment block. I was going to the kimbap place near yours, you remember that one, right?” 
You hum in response.
“And I saw you crying, crouching near an injured cat. Some car had run over her leg, and she couldn’t walk anymore. And you didn’t know what to do, so I helped you. You insisted on coming with me to the vet where I take my cats. So, we caught a cab. And you were so worried, you didn’t stop crying, so the cab driver thought I did something to you,” he chuckles faintly.
“Then, the vet put a cast on her leg and reassured us that she’d be okay. And I told him I’d take her home and bring her for check-ups. But you were so worried, you begged me to send you updates about the cat. So, you gave me your number. And we talked.”
“What happened to the cat?”
“I took her to a rescue store I trusted since I couldn’t take her in. and we still visited her from time to time. And then, she found a good family.”
“And what happened to us?” you inquire softly, hoping that if your voice was quiet enough then your question wouldn't hurt Minho as much. 
“We kept in touch," he said. "And it was… easy to talk to you, I felt as if I had known you for my entire life. When you found out I had three cats, we Facetimed a lot so you’d see them, but then we just kept on calling, every day, for nearly two weeks. Being with you felt natural, you know? I didn’t overthink it. I never did."
“And then three weeks later you came over to see Soonie, Dori, and Doongie. We ended up watching three movies in a row, and you were so tired you slept on my couch.”
“That’s embarrassing,” you chuckle.
"Yes," he laughs and you reach over to swat his shoulder playfully. "But it was also cute, and endearing. Then you came over a lot, and we just cooked together. Well, I cooked and you watched.”
“Right, that sounds more like me," you instantly agree. 
“We hung outside too, whenever one of us had free time. We had a lot of common hobbies and interests so we never ran out of things to talk about. We made time for each other too.”
“How did we start dating?”
“You made the first move.”
“I did?” you shoot up from your place, hissing when the abrupt movement causes a twinge of pain in your ribs.
“Take it easy,” he giggles, as he illuminates your face with his flashlight. “You did.”
“Did you put a spell on me? I swore I’d never make a first move again after I was rejected in third grade. That was my most sacred oath."
“Well… you were ranting about this book. The one you were reading today,” he adds, and your excitement fizzles out, as the pieces of the puzzle finally fall into place. “You were sad because you had no one to talk to about it. So, I bought the book and read it. I gave you my copy, complete with highlighted passages and notes. And when I did… you kissed me, without warning,” his voice is softer now, as he fiddles with the tip of his blushing ears. "You said it was the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for you.”
“It was. It is,” you whisper, heart caught in your throat. “I saw the photograph of us both lodged between the pages of the book. Did we take it that day?”
“Yes, we weren’t dating, not yet. Because I told you I wanted to take you out on a proper date. But you wanted us to take a picture holding the book… So you’d remember.”
“So I'd remember,” you repeat, voice quivering. What good was it for in the end?
 “I looked so happy in the photograph,” you whisper, tears welling up your eyes. “I looked so happy with you,” your voice breaks as you utter that last part. "Did I love you, Minho?"
"You did," he nods softly, blinking away his own tears. 
“And did you love me?”
“I did. I still do, very much.”
“Thank you, for loving me. It sounds like I’ve lived a happy year with you.”
Minho's pain is akin to a polite guest; it lingers by the corner, speaking in whispers, hardly ever raising its voice. You'd never really notice it, unless you strain your ears, as you're doing now. Only then would you discern the tremors of his quiet sobs- broken, stifled, determined not to make themselves known, only escaping his lips when he thinks you've fallen asleep. 
Day 8.
Whenever an overwhelming emotion ran freely along the corridors of your soul, you'd often find yourself curled in a fetal position, knees drawn to your chest, like a fragile leaf.
Your teacher once explained that it reminds us of safer times in the wombs of our mothers, when the cruelty of life hasn’t yet reached us. 
It is the way you’re resting now, upon the cold, hardwood floor, dozens of books surrounding you. You decided to go through each book in Minho’s library, the need to satiate your curiosity overtaking you. You didn’t know what you were looking for, exactly. Other photographs, surely, in the hopes that one of them would spark up your memory, ignite the flame of remembrance. 
What you didn’t expect was to find Minho talking to you through books. Within the pages, amid the words, scribbled in small, dainty handwriting, threads of his thoughts all relating to you. Quotes he thought you’d appreciate, highlighted segments that reminded him of you. And dedications, so many dedicated lines you felt like you could drown in them. It felt as if Minho was on a quest to find love within every line, only to inscribe your name beside it.
Putting down the last book, you were left with a huge void, akin to a black hole eating away at your heart. So, you laid on the floor, one arm underneath your head, knees held tightly to your chest- as if trying to create borders for your sadness, to stop it from spilling out of your body, drowning the house in even more sorrow. Those four walls have had enough, more than they could contain. And so did you.
You suddenly longed for the very beginning of your life, when time was but a tranquil stream, when you were unaware of the hurtful years it would carve into your existence. Back to when your spine was still curled around itself; for it was never meant to be straightened. Your spine was never strong enough to bear your pain. 
You wanted to talk to someone, but you didn’t know who you could turn to. You didn’t know how to articulate these emotions into words, tangible enough for someone to understand them. And you couldn’t talk to Minho about it, not when he was hurting on his own. 
Because he smiled down at his cats, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. His laughter echoed around the room when he talked to his friends on the phone. And sometimes, he even hummed under his breath while making you breakfast. But this happiness never reached his eyes, behind his pupils the sadness seared itself into his veins, casting a gloomy shadow that followed him everywhere he went. It was a palpable ache, one that filled the very atmosphere with the metallic taste of grief. Making it almost impossible for you to breathe in. Even more so when you remember it was all your fault.
These are the thoughts that haunted you all day, as they have been doing for the past week. Minho must have noticed that you were feeling gloomier than usual, a silent storm raging by his side, since he put up a romcom for you. “It made you laugh a lot when you watched it months ago.”
“How do you remember all of these things about me?” you ponder, scratching the fragile skin near your nails, easily torn, just like you. 
“Does it make you uncomfortable? Should I stop?” he asks quietly, deflecting your question.
“No,” you say the truth. “It'd be weird if you were an actual stranger, but… you knew me. And I knew you. and I still feel safe around you.” 
He nods silently, but something in his gaze compels you to keep talking. 
“I mean, I never felt uncomfortable around you these days, which surprised me too. I just… I suppose that even if my mind doesn’t remember, my heart does, in a way?”
“My heart will always remember you,” he whispers, gaze adrift in a faraway memory. 
A gear shifts in your mind, a sudden light flooding your vision. You find yourself within a grand canopy bed, its pure white curtains swaying to the rhythm of a whimsical breeze, their delicate fabric brushing lightly against your cheek. It’s slightly cold from the wide-open windows, but then it’s warm, as a gentle hand finds its place on your thigh, kindling an ember deep within, setting your very soul ablaze. 
The curtains sway with the wind, obscuring your view, but you can still discern the sound of your laughter, echoing like distant chimes. And a tenderness, so delicate it seemed almost otherworldly, trailing along your skin, as warmth caresses your cheek and gently traverses the curve of your collarbones, peppering it with the softest kisses. You can't quite behold it, but it is unmistakably there, an ineffable presence that threatens to burst your heart at the seams—a memory of your love for Minho.
It is a blurry sight, like peering into a worn-out photograph, its details softened by the sands of time. But you clutch to it- to your fading laughter and hushed conversation, and then your voice ringing clearly in your mind, the promise you made to Minho. 
'My heart will always remember you'. 
You startle back in a jolt; the light and warmth have extinguished. They are now dull, withered down, sitting next to you with their head hung low. 
It takes you an inhumane effort to swallow down the lump in your throat.
Day 16.
This week has been particularly cold. Not temperature-wise, October has always harbored these same frigid temperatures and you've gotten used to them, to the relentless winds brushing against your skin. Only this time they pierced right through your soul instead.
You knew what had changed. You had felt the sadness, the frustration, the guilt- all blending into one sorrowful symphony, pulling at your heartstrings the way one does to a harp. Yet, amid these familiar emotions, a new feeling loomed large this past week- anxiety.
It arrived in sudden, icy bursts, cold beads of perspiration cascading down your spine, feet suddenly freezing no matter how fuzzy your socks were- the physical telltales, then came the emotional ones. The shadows of dread, for we fear the unseen more than that which we can touch. The growing panic gnawing at your heart, hinting that something profoundly disastrous lurked on the horizon.
Anxiety held you suspended in the air, bound by invisible ropes that compelled you to watch from above as the days drifted past you. You were a ghost haunting an empty shell, hollow and resonant with anxiety's clang, akin to an empty can's descent to the ground.
Your appetite had fled, leaving you alone to grapple with the chore of feeding yourself, mechanically ingesting food only to pacify Minho’s concerned gaze. The TV’s volume blared, since you desperately needed the voices of other people to invade your mind, to render your thoughts merciless, forcing them to put their sword-like tongues down.
And the exhaustion, not accounted to your broken ribs, for Minho had meticulously overseen their recovery. It was an emotional fatigue, a weariness that clung to your every breath, trapping them within your ribcage, far beyond their time, until they tethered on the brink of exploding in your lungs- a supernova of darkness devouring your essence. Only then did the breaths release their hold on you.
So, you patiently awaited the inevitable unraveling, because you knew this wasn’t an ordinary anxiety. Your soul whispered to you in a language your mind could no longer translate, throbbing with a message you couldn’t quite recollect, striving urgently to jog your memory of a monumental truth.
But you didn’t remember– you should have.
You should've known it was Minho’s birthday.
It is near midnight when you venture out of your room, the inflatable bed by your side unusually vacant. A dim glow draws you to the kitchen, and as you stand by its entrance, an intensified cold grips you. It chills the blood in your veins, transforming it into splintered shards that prick uncomfortably beneath your skin.
Minho is sitting by the table, a small, muted cake before him, a shoebox by his side. A solitary candle flickers in front of his face, casting elongating shadows on his chiseled features. The flame is about to fizzle out- you feel like your heart will closely follow suit.
"Minho..." you call out gently, careful not to startle him from the trance ensnaring him. He doesn't react to the sound of your voice.
"Minho, I…"
"Today was my birthday."
His tone is cold, like the darkening clouds before a stormy night. His words feel like lightning bolts piercing your core.
"It would be stupid to blow this candle out, wouldn't it? Because you and I both know my wish won't come true. Maybe it never will. And it's killing me, yn." His voice quivers as it utters your name, a slight shake taking over his lips. His cheeks are tear stained- glimmering reflections under the golden flame. You've never seen him this sad. You don't know how to comfort him in his sadness.
A rush of nausea overwhelms your being, a yearning to expel every emotion, methodically, until your heart transforms into a tranquil organ, solely pulsing life's crimson essence through your frame. Nothing more, nothing less.
"This shoe box is yours. You kept it under the bed, filled it with everything that reminded you of me. You told me..." he pauses, taking in a deep breath. "You told me that you wanted to remember everything about us, every single detail. But I... I don't care if you don't remember every date we went to. I just-" his forehead rests on his palm, as he squeezes his eyes shut. "I just want you to remember that you love me."
Hot tears are rolling across his cheeks, splattering across the table like a broken mosaic. He doesn't try to hide them or wipe them away. He's had enough.
"Minho, I’m-"
"I mean- that's not too much to ask for, right?" he finally lifts his head, locking his eyes with yours. A black abyss, a dark void. You are the one who sucked out all the light.
"You- you said you loved me. And I- I felt it, y/n, when you looked at me, when you touched me. I felt it, it wasn't- it wasn't just words, I-" he pauses, running a hand through his hair, tugging at his black locks furiously. "You loved me," his voice breaks. "Why- why can't you remember that you loved me?"
Your tongue bursts to flame in your mouth, its grey ashes choking you from within. What could you even say? How do you stop the bleeding of a heart when you carry knives for fingers?
Minho abruptly stands up, his chair scraping loudly across the floor. "We talked about marriage, a-about kids, you said- you said you'd choose me to be the father of your children, you said you wanted a big house w-with me and you-” he points at you, chest heaving, eyes rimmed red. “You said you wanted us to sit at the patio when we're eighty and you wanted us to hold hands still," he chuckles bitterly, his arms falling limp by his side incredulously. "And now you don't even remember me."
He grabs the box, rummaging through its contents furiously. "You see this?" he waves dried flowers before your eyes, their petals falling to the floor from the force of his agitation. "These are the flowers I got you for our first date. You dried them and put them here because you- you said you wanted to preserve it, to remember."
"And this, the cinema tickets from our first movie date. You were so tired you just slept on my shoulder all the time and then I- I carried you home and you kissed me." He's growing more frantic, rifling through the shoe box in a frenzy. You remain rooted by the kitchen's entrance, a sense of powerlessness holding you captive, an unbreakable vice around your being.
"This is the napkin from our favorite cat café, and look," he grabs your hand, clammy palm pressed to yours, pulling you toward the table." This is the receipt of the first time we went grocery shopping together and-" he waves it in the air, before slamming it onto the table. "And, you e-even kept this stupid rock I gave you right before I told you I love you for the first time, because you said it was the happiest day of your life, my god Yn how can you not remember?"
A broken, sob-laden chuckle escapes his lips, a sound so heart wrenchingly human, so painfully poignant that for an instant, it fills you with a bitter aversion to your own humanity- it was never meant to inflict this much pain upon someone else.
Your thoughts shatter as Minho tenderly cups your face, urging you to confront his turbulent gaze. He seeks something within your eyes, and you desperately hope he'd find it, whatever it may be, anything to stop the tremor in his hands as they anchor you in place.
"Why did you- why did you keep all of this if not to remember me.” He asks, unblinking, lip quivering. “Please, please, remember me, just- just try, okay?"
"I’m so sorry-"
"No. No. Don't- don't apologize like it's final like you could never love me again," his hands glide to your shoulders, shaking you slightly in place. "Don't you understand? I-I don't want an apology I want you to remember me."
"Minho..."
"Just look through this, it's our happiest memories y/n, okay?" he let goes of you, circling the table before shoving the box into your hands. He smiles- attempts to, it is an unnatural presence amidst his tears, so out of place it sends shivers down your spine. "Look at it, yn, please," he pleads as your hold on the box falters. "I can’t remember us alone. I’m crushing under the weight of everything we lived it’s exhausting me!"
His voice ascends pitch, the end of his words hanging into the air, searing themselves into the particles you breathe. His voice leaves a painful echo on his trail. You’re exhausting him.
You put the box down, taking three cautious step forwards.
And then you hug Minho.
He can't even hold you back, body trembling with the sobs rippling through him as soon as your chest presses to his. He sinks to the floor and you follow suit, arms enfolding his concaved shoulders tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "Im sorry, I'm so sorry Minho. I- I wish I could remember."
You want the kitchen to collapse upon itself. There is too much grief in such a small room- it stains the walls like blood droplets, absorbs his cries like a saturated sponge.
You don’t think you could ever sit at this table again.
He finally clasps your back, drawing you even nearer to him. "Can- can you pretend, just today, please? For my birthday. Pretend you still love me."
"Of course. It's okay, I’m here, honey. I'm here."
"I love you. I love you so much," he whispers, lips pressed against your neck. "And it hurts to love you, so much." He brings your hand to his heart. "It hurts so much right here."
He doesn't let go of your hand, softly caressing your knuckles. His breath hitches as his thumb hovers over your ring finger. "I... I was going to propose, you know? I even bought the ring, stored it away for when the time is right. Do you think you would have remembered if you woke up wearing it?"
He knows your answer would've been yes. You know that too, in the matching cat mugs and the book annotations and the way Minho gently held your face, even in the depths of his despair. Everywhere you look, your answer echoes back- yes, the home chants in unison, that's what you would've said. Yes, yes, yes.
Day 17.
In the cracks of concrete sidewalks, tenacious flowers manage to sprout. Just how in the depths of Minho’s pain, small joys bloomed, nestled in the vacant spaces between you and him. 
You'd greet him each time he opened the door, your voice resonating through the apartment like the sweetest sonnet. And he would always pause by the doorknob, basking in the sound of your voice that hadn’t changed in the slightest. Your tone still held that same dulcet timber, a golden honey that once dripped freely upon his soul. 
But today, Minho swung open the door and an eerie hush greeted him instead. He ventured in, calling after you, only to be met with utter silence. He anxiously checked the rooms, opening the doors hastily one by one. But you weren't there. You weren't home. 
Minho felt the familiar tendrils of worry coiling around his heart, constricting it with each passing moment. He quickly grabbed his phone, dialing your number, only to fall into your voicemail, the robotic voice chilling him to the core.
In the past two weeks, you had made sure to text Minho each time you went outside- a precaution you took due to your fractured ribs which came with frequent fits of dizziness. It was a safety measure for one person, at least, to know where you are. 
But you didn't text him today. And he had no idea where you might’ve gone to. 
Minho tried to suck in a deep breath, willing the fear to relinquish its icy grip on his body so he could think properly. Maybe you had simply forgotten, he reasoned. Yet, he knew that you never back out on your promises. They were sacred for you since they were once senselessly broken.
For the second time in a mere three weeks, Minho’s deepest fears unfurl like a nightmare before him, ensnaring him in a tapestry woven with the bloody threads of everything that went wrong yesterday. 
He carried his shame akin to heavy bricks on his shoulders, causing them to hunch forward- a coward, leaving the house before you even rose, and on his trail, your breakfast and a hastily written note. He couldn’t fathom eating at that kitchen table with you, not when his sobs still echoed around those sage walls, as did your quiet voice as you tried to soothe his cries, holding him between your tender arms. 
Minho was scared. He was terrified you’d never come back home after everything that had happened, the words he said and the way he pleaded, nearly at your feet, consumed by a sadness grander than anything he’s ever known. 
So, he storms out of the apartment in a hurry, scouring the nearby playground. But you aren’t there. The grocery store is next, the library, the flower shop, the cat café tucked in a corner that you may have stumbled on. 
You were still nowhere to be found.
A dreadful sense of foreboding overcame him, akin to how he felt when his phone rang two weeks prior- the unfamiliar number of the hospital shining before his eyes. What if something happened to you, a fit of dizziness but no one was around to help? Life doesn’t grant you a second chance. No one has ever brushed against death’s shoulder twice and lived to tell the tale. What if he receives another call? 
He couldn’t survive another call.  
Minho stands in the midst of the road, clutching his head with a tight grip, desperately searching his memory for the places that once brought you solace during the months he spent knowing you. However, he quickly remembers that you no longer know of those places.
So where could you have gone? 
An epiphany dawns upon Minho- the bridge you had pointed out to him from a distance on one of your walks, the first place you claimed as your own in the city. It towered above the ocean, suspended several meters in the air. He couldn't accompany you there that day, bound by a paralyzing fear of heights.
He prays with all his might that he's right. 
He dashes towards the bridge akin to a madman, the desperate rhythm of his pounding feet mirroring the urgency in his heart. It looms tantalizingly close, a mere 15 minutes away, and Minho, in a state of disarray, knows he's not fit to drive right now. He was never fond of running, he didn't enjoy the searing ache in his lungs, robbing him of his ability to breathe. But he welcomes the pain today- it means that he's running fast enough to reach you. He hopes, he prays.
Minho spots you from a distance, a mere silhouette standing at the bridge's edge, your figure unmistakable with the red scarf tightly wound around your neck. Relief nearly brings him to his knees - you're alive.
Minho doesn't think as he sprints to you, eyes solely focused on you and not the void beneath his feet.
"Yn!" he calls out from afar, and you startle, snapping your head back to look at him. He wonders what he must look at you, disheveled hair, the wind knocking down his jean jacket. But he doesn't care. 
Minho stands before you without pause, instantly pulling you into the shelter of his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head. He buries his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling the familiar smell of your shampoo, a constant through the months of knowing you. He clings to it, to the familiarity of your scent and the way your heartbeat seems to pour from your body to his, speaking in a language only your souls can comprehend. His arms clutch at you tightly, rugged breaths escaping his body, dew tears gathering in his eyes and dropping down your shoulders. 
Your arms hang limp by your side, confusion etched across your face at the urgency, the frenzy in which he pulled you to his chest, an emotion you hadn’t known in him in these past weeks.
You tentatively raise your hands, patting his back slowly. "Minho, what’s wrong?" you whisper, and he shakes his head.
"You weren't home. I- I thought something happened to you." 
"No, I just went on a walk and lost track of time," you reassure him and he pulls away, warm hands cradling your cheeks. 
"You're okay, right? Tell me you're okay," he pleads and you smile, nodding your head. “I'm okay, don’t worry.” 
Minho drops your face, embarrassment flooding his being at his outburst. It morphs to panic as he realizes the expanse beneath—nothing but the vast ocean, the wind slamming into his body, making him lose his footing.
"Are... you okay?" you ask cautiously. "Minho, you're shaking," you point out, a frown tugging at your lips. "Are you cold?" 
He stays silent, unable to place a word beyond the stutter of his lips. 
"Here," you hurriedly unwrap your red scarf, enclosing it around his neck. "You're shivering, Minho," you grab his hands, rubbing his fingers, blowing warmth into them, an attempt to kindle fire into him.
"I'm not- not cold. I- I’m scared of heights," he admits through a stutter, eyes tightly closed. 
"Then why are you here?" You ask, surprised. 
"Because you are." 
His confession comes out quietly, softened by the blow of his fear. His eyes remain closed, missing the tears gathering in your eyes, the ones you swiftly try to blink away. 
"Let's go, just keep your eyes closed. Hold my hand," you entwine your fingers with his, squeezing it lightly to signal you're there, as you walk across the bridge. 
You don't let go until you finally regain solid ground. 
"You're safe. you can open your eyes," you say quietly. 
"You're okay, right?" he inquires again, stepping closer.
"Why are you asking me this when you're the one shaking?" you chuckle, almost exasperated, nothing funny in the sound.
"I was worried about you, and I thought you left… after yesterday."
"Why would you- My god Minho why would you even come running across this bridge? Why would you do something like that when you're afraid?"
"Because I love you," his voice is resolute, soft as a whisper, as he states a simple truth. It only makes yours reach new heights.
"But why- why do you love me? Why would you still love me after everything I put you through?" 
"You didn't put me through anything," he shakes his head, and you take a step back, facing away from him. He can see your body heaving up and down, the weight of unspoken words making your heartbeat race. And then you snap. 
"You broke down yesterday," you pivot back, pointing at his chest. "You broke down in my arms because of me. Why would you still love me after all this Minho I don't- I don't understand." 
"I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I know I probably made you uncomfortable and I shouldn't have asked something like that out of you-" 
"No, no, Minho, you don't understand, you shouldn't apologize, I should. I’m the one who hurt you-"
"You didn't hurt me. It's something out of your control, you didn't choose this." 
“Stop- just stop being so nice and understanding for a minute. I don’t deserve it!" you shout exasperated, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. "You can't look me in the eyes half of the time you can't even fucking breathe in your own home. It's now a- a cemetery for our memories and it'll soon become yours too because I suck the life out of you, can't you see that?" 
"I'm not asking you to remember me,” he holds his hands up, in surrender, “I was wrong yesterday, you don't have to remember us." 
"There is no us!” you yell, hands thrown in the air, “Not anymore, Minho, maybe never."
You suck in a deep breath, shutting your eyes, willing your voice to ebb and flow into calmness. 
"I thought about it. It'll hurt less if you don't see me, time will pass and you'll get used to it, I'm not worth this."
"You are,” he interjects. “You don't get to pick for me, Yn." 
"Stop- stop talking like this is normal, stop being so complacent with your pain, Minho you shouldn't love someone who hurts you!"
"Then make me stop loving you. Spare me. Tear open my heart and bleed it dry at your feet or else it won't stop beating for you. Don't you understand? If you are near or if you are far, I will still love you. The only difference is that I'd worry more about you. I'd worry if you're eating, I'd worry if you're taking your medicine, I'd worry if you're drinking out of your favorite cup or if you have a spare shampoo in your drawer because you hate running out of it. I'd worry out of my fucking mind, Yn don't leave." 
It had been an encompassing sadness that made his true feelings surge yesterday, breaching the myriad of cracks in his heart. But today, it was fear that cast a revealing light upon his feelings, hidden in the recesses of his being. They surged forth in a transparency you were still not used to, the way the ocean throws on its shores the debris of sunken ships, allowing the grieving families of sailors to finally discover the terrible truth.
Still, his honesty, his soul bare at your mercy isn’t enough to make you stay.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just... I can't- I'm sorry."
You take three steps back, before turning your back to him and walking away. A numbness, like icy talons, seizes his limbs, his gaze fixated on your diminishing figure—carrying away everything he's ever loved. Paralysis envelopes his very essence, a haunting realization that the distance between you is more than a mere physical space. You're vanishing beyond the horizon of his reach, slipping through his desperate grasp. The fear of never seeing you again fractures the stillness, snapping Minho out of his trance.
"To love someone is firstly to confess, I'm prepared to be devastated by you." He shouts, making you pause in your tracks. "Isn't that your favorite quote, Yn? You told me this is what love is about. To place your heart in the palm of the person you love. And your hands are soft, Yn. I don't mind if I'm bruised by them." 
"I lied then!” You yell back, tears cascading down your cheeks akin to a waterfall, “Belcourt lied and I lied when I told you this and when I promised that I'd always remember you in that canopy bed-"
"What did you just say?” Minho quickly walks to you, chest heaving. “What canopy bed?"
“It doesn't matter now,” you speak in a small voice, avoiding his eyes, seeking refuge in the ground beneath. Yet, Minho, gentle and determined, cups your face, guiding your gaze to meet his.
“It matters to me, Yn, please. What do you mean?"
“We were in that white canopy bed, when I told you that my heart would always remember you.” 
“We were,” he whispers, eyes glazed over as the memory washes over him too. “Did you remember?”
“Not clearly, it was really hazy in my mind. But I remember that the windows were open, I was supposed to feel cold but… your hands on me, and they were warm. And I…” you suck in a deep breath and Minho smiles encouragingly, running his thumb in a tender caress across your cheek. 
“I remember feeling that I loved you,” you finally confess. “Even though I couldn’t see you. That's why I said that I'd always remember you. Because you filled every chamber in my heart, so much that it'd still hold your name even if you left it…that's how I felt.” You pause, as Minho forcibly swallows the lump down his throat. 
“But it didn't unlock any new memories and I-”
“It's okay, it’s okay. You still remembered,” he smiles and the gesture brings you to his lips, rosy, plump. Were they still as warm? Still as soft? 
“I did…” you trail off. “You also kissed me, in my memory. Your lips were everywhere and… they were soft.” You add quietly, eyes fixated on his mouth, the smile that once adorned it slipping away. 
A tentative warmth courses through your being, a subtle blaze that ignites your cheeks in a shade of crimson. In this moment, a need unfurls within you, a yearning that eclipses the delicate boundaries of restraint. The memory of his lips on your skin becomes a beacon, standing tall amidst the tumultuous winds of uncertainty. You want to taste the warmth again. You want to kiss Minho.
“I kissed you.” His hands, once gentle on your cheeks, now slip down with purpose, cradling your jaw in a gesture that speaks of both reassurance and longing.
“You did.” 
“And my lips were soft,” he repeats, his red scarf brushing against your throat. 
"They were," you respond, breathless. His mouth stands electrifyingly close, a mere hairbreadth away, as you contemplate the simple act of tilting your head, closing the tantalizing gap. All that stands between you and the echoes of the love that was is the lift of your head, a movement that could breathe life into the dormant embers of your heart.
"Yn," Minho speaks softly, his words a gentle brush against the canvas of your shared vulnerability. His minty breath tickles your nose, as you hum, a wordless acknowledgment that hangs in the air. Your eyes remain closed, your heart beating loudly in your ears, drowning out the sound of the waves nearby.
“Use me. Use me to remember.”
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jaeminify · 1 month
Text
two is better than one — lee jeno, na jaemin.
synopsis ☆ jaemin hated sharing and he hated that he had to watch his best friend get to hold you like he would in bed. but what was he to do when you liked the two of them and couldn't decide on one?
tags/warnings ☆ threesome, spit kink, cum play, slight mention of anal; rimming (jaemin... may have a kink), slight strangling kink but towards the end.
author's note ☆ was semi-inspired by that *one challengers scene, and this idea came up... not one of my best works but i enjoyed writing it with how easy the idea and dialogue came to mind. it was also great timing with jeno suddenly going shirtless 0_0 happy readings!!! i hope everyone reading this enjoys <3 feedback and comments are appreciated <3
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Jaemin loved to kiss you. To taste you, to feel you, to hold you — he loved every moment of feeling you against him. Skin on skin, sweat dripping off his arms as he touched you; he got turned on by the tiniest of things it agitated him when you weren't around.
Unfortunately for him, he wasn't the only one who strongly felt that way, for his own best friend harboured the same intensity as him.
"Fuck you Jeno Lee." Jaemin mutters behind his typical red solo cup, not daring to take his eyes off of you while you dance with your group of friends.
"What'd I do?" His best friend shows up in the flesh, holding out a cup of pistachios for both him and Jaemin to snack on.
Jaemin glares at his best friend before taking a pistachio for himself. He nods his head in your direction, feeling his breath get heavy when he notices how good your outfit looks on you. It didn't help that you were swaying your hips too.
Jeno follows his gaze and grins in acknowledgement.
"What can I say, dude." Jeno smirks when you lock eye contact with him, "We're just two lucky bastards."
"You're the bastard. I'm the lucky one."
"Wait till we get back home," Jeno's eyes darken when you blow a kiss to Jaemin but not him. "We'll both be feeling pretty lucky."
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"Jaem!" You whine, feeling Jaemin grip your hips so harshly you were sure they'd leave bruises the next day.
You feel Jeno leave kisses on the back of your neck, delicately holding your hair up in a makeshift ponytail, feeling his bare skin against your back while Jaemin is drilling his cock straight into your core. You're trying to form coherent words but the pressure is too much. Your hands are scrambling up to tug at Jaemin's roots while the other is gripping Jeno's hand.
"Yeah, baby?" Jaemin breathes out, cursing under his breath when he feels your pussy tighten around him.
"What's wrong, Sweet Girl?" Jeno whispers into your ear, making you let out a shaky sigh. "Jaemin's making you feel real good isn't he? Doing such a great job for our Jaemin."
You can't help but nod at the praises Jeno gives, losing yourself in the sensation and the words they both shower you in. It was addicting; they were both addicting.
"Kiss..." You mutter," barely able to speak up with how entranced you were by the both of them as you always are. Jeno glanced at Jaemin who was too focused on being sucked in by your cunt that he didn't hear your words.
When he feels your hand on his chest, Jaemin looks over at you. Immediately he recognises the look of your hooded eyes and clingy hands, reaching for any feeling of skin you could get. You just needed them near you.
"Hi baby," Jaemin leans forward, nuzzling his nose against yours before he showers kisses all over your jawline and at the corner of your ear. "What do you need, Angel? Want more of my cock? Need us both?" He whispers, grinning when you whimper and move your hips to meet his thrusts.
"Think she wants a kiss." Jeno smirks from behind your head, you can feel the cockiness drip out of his words. His arms tighten around your waist. "From who, baby?"
You reach out to grab Jeno's neck while the other pulls Jaemin's arm.
"Both... Both of you please..." You whine, looking completely worn out and ruined by the both of them. You feel Jeno's cock harden behind your ass and grind harshly against him as you try to not lose your rhythm with Jaemin's thrusts.
"Need you both, right now..." As if you had enough, you tug them both down to meet your lips and the three of you start relentlessly making out.
Jaemin's hot grunts are swallowed by your lips while Jeno's tongue tries to take control of both you and Jaemin.
The makeout session, dare you say was hotter than having the both of them pound into you but that thought is quickly thrown away when Jeno pulls away, allowing Jaemin to take control. Your bottom lip is licked then sucked by Jaemin before he kneads your stomach, moving his hands from your middle to your ass, unbeknownst to you, spreading your ass apart.
You let out a surprised yelp, gasping when you feel Jeno's finger prod at your second hole, causing you to nearly clamp down onto Jaemin, making him yell.
"Jesus, fuck." Jaemin hisses, quickly pulling out to cum on your stomach. You whimper when you feel something warm.
"More," You sigh, clutching Jeno's arm when you feel him rub his tip against your rim. "Jeno— Jeno please."
"Please what, baby? Use your words. Remember what I taught you."
Jaemin snickers between your legs, using his forefinger to scoop up his cum on your stomach.
"Like she can think straight when I'm here."
Before you can respond, Jaemin hovers over you with his fingers right above your lips. With a smirk, he tilts his head.
"Open your mouth for me, Angel. Could you do that?" He smiles widely when you follow his words, sticking out your tongue too so he knows you consent to what he's about to give you. Jaemin feels his cock grow hard at the sight of you.
"Such a princess, getting fed so good by the both of us huh?" Jaemin lets his cum fall onto your tongue, then leans down to kiss you.
"Fuck, okay. Can I have a moment? My cock feels like it's about to burst."
You carefully pull away from Jaemin, not without leaving one more peck on his lips, making him grin. Then, you shift on Jeno's lap.
"Need me?" You smile innocently, almost making Jeno cum right then and there but he feels your slickness with his tip and groans.
"Good, huh? Prepped our pretty girl nicely." Jaemin taunts from behind you, leaving a delicate kiss on the top of your head.
"Need you to spread your legs a little wider for me baby, can you do that?" Jeno murmurs, knowing how you'll respond. He only ever asks because he wants to hear the answer. Wants to hear it from you, especially. "You're an obedient girl, aren't you?"
You nod, helplessly going limp. "Just for you— Only for you and Jaemin."
Now that you were facing Jeno, Jaemin had the pleasure of fondling with your tits to see how you'd react to him. Of course, with such pleasure on your upper body, your natural response is to moan, whine and clench your cunt when Jeno glides himself into you, feeling himself so close to release already.
"Oh," he moans. "Oh, shit— oh baby."
"Jeno..." Your voice rises an octave higher when Jeno hits a spot that makes you grow weak into Jaemin's arms.
The latter has no issue with you almost completely lying on top of him. He's having fun playing with your clit while he kicks at your earlobe, whispering dirty words into your ears, enjoying the way you crumble under the both of them.
"Just like that baby, take Jeno's cock so well. You're so greedy Angel." Jaemin murmurs, smirking when Jeno hisses at the way you grind against him.
"Jeno... Jeno—" Youvgasp when you feel Jaemin's tongue against your rim, once again, it was always either of them taking turns to tease you when you were already on the edge.
"Fuck!" You scream, clawing your nails up Jeno's chest as you clung onto his shoulders now that Jaemin's body wasn't directly behind you for support.
His hands, however, were nothing short of greedy. He squeezed your ass, spreading them apart once again before he dived back in to taste you.
"So fucking sweet baby. Be a patient girl and take what Jeno gives you," Jaemin's raspy voice is a threat to your orgasm because right as he finishes his sentence, you're desperate to cum, and Jeno can feel that. "Let me taste you, yeah? Focus on Jeno first."
But you can't.
The pleasure from Jaemin's hot tongue frantically prodding and licking at your rim has you screaming the loudest you've probably screamed in a while, making Jeno have to clamp his hand over your lips as he rests his forehead against yours. Just as you are, Jeno looks gone. He looks so fucked out and in awe at the way you move your body that he isn't even bothered to try and hide how dazed he is. All he's thinking now is how he wants to have his cock buried in your cunt for days— as long as you'd let him.
"Like what Jaemin's doing to you, huh baby?" Jeno rasps out, his free hand sliding up to rest around your neck, making you moan against the hand that's covering your mouth.
Jeno's eyes darken when he feels you kiss his palm, licking eagerly as you thrust up to meet his cock halfway.
"There's our little slut." Jeno whispers, getting close to his orgasm while you're already on your second. You arch your back, moving slightly away from Jaemin's lips — which he dislikes, without missing a beat he wraps his arms around your hips to pull you even closer to his face.
"Babygirl loves our attention, doesn't she?" Jeno taunts, smiling when he sees tears roll down from your eyes. Without hesitation, Jeno leans forward to lick at them, swallowing your tears as he tastes them before kissing your lips.
"Don't hold yourself back, gorgeous." Jeno continues, "You don't have to pretend like you're a saint like you always do baby girl, cause deep down," He leans down to reach your ears, "you're just a little cocksleeve for Jaemin and I, aren't you? So hungry and eager to have us inside of you... Can't even function straight without wanting to fuck us."
All you can do now is moan, because the pleasure feels too good. It feels too fucking good to even try to say anything to deny his words. He was right anyway.
Jaemin gave your hole one last kiss before he stood back up behind you. When he sees your mascara running down your face, he knows you're almost gone, and he's quick to rush to your aid, cooing sweet nothings.
"There you go pretty girl, just a little bit more for us, yeah? Think you can do that baby? Hold on a bit more?"
"Don't think she can, Jaemin." Jeno grins, giving you one last thrust before he pulls out to jack his cock off. The two boys spare a split second of eye contact before they smirk at each other, understanding what the other wants with no words.
"Think you deserve an award baby," Jaemin smiles, "Want his cum?"
You snap out of the trance you're in to look up at Jeno's cock. No matter how many times you've fucked him, and how many times you've had him in your mouth, Jaemin and Jeno's lengths never failed to leave you speechless.
"Want to taste you, Jeno. Want your cum." You slur, carelessly getting out of Jaemin's grip as you crawl your way below Jeno's cock, letting it rest on your face before you start to kitty lick his tip. "Please, please Jeno. Need you, want you."
"Baby's so fucking clingy today," Jeno hisses, letting his cock rest in your mouth. "Want me so fucking bad, huh? Take everything I give you baby. Want you to swallow everything— Shit shit shit."Jeno falls back to lean against the wall he's standing by when your tongue plays with his tip, knowing that's all he needed to cum down your throat.
Finally, the three of you clean yourself up and make your way over to your bed. You, passed out in the middle, clinging onto both of their arms as you wear Jaemin's shirt to sleep.
The two boys, just as worn out as you, start to doze off with the comfort of you next to them.
"You were right.".
Jeno raises his head to look at his friend, a confused look on his face. He was still trying to get the look of your face out from his head to stop his cock from hardening.
He huffed, "what?" whispering so he wouldn't wake you.
Jaemin turns to his side to leave a kiss on your cheek, smiling when you turn to face him and rest your head on his shoulder.
"We're both just two lucky bastards."
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seungisms · 1 year
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🖇️📁 𝐒𝐊𝐙 … 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐗
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𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst and smut, do not interact if you’re under 18
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, public sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, overstimulation, edging, degradation, soft!skz, hints of degenerate!jisung (might make a longer post for him in future cause i'm obsessed)
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: had this requested a bunch so thought i’d finally give u filthies what u want - ik i said soft sex with lix would be next but uh, plans changed (aka danni is struggling to write anything that isn’t a reaction/headcannons rn) so please forgive 🧎‍♀️reblog for a kiss, feedback much appreciated!
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𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍
soso in love with the thought of turning you into the prettiest mess he’s ever seen during sex so it’s no surprise that he can get a little carried away :( doesn’t mean to though, he swears!! is just too busy lapping up the messy heaven between your legs to notice your choked begs to ‘slow down’, coaxing you towards orgasm again and again with fat licks against your pussy. lets out the m o s t obscene groans into your cunt, spit and cum covering his chin and sheets and he’s looking up at you with the most dreamiest eyes ever that it almost made you forget the stinging of your core from his relentless worship. you try your hardest to hold out, reminding yourself he wouldn’t even think about overstimulating you to this point if he knew how sensitive you currently felt, but you can’t help the safeword from tumbling out between your cries - and he’s off you within in a second. his hands are shaking, careful not to touch you and there’s so much shame and guilt swimming in his pretty eyes that you could almost cry, please just kiss this man!! will cup your face ever so softly and lean into the kiss, letting out small sniffles and apologies against your lips - and you can still taste yourself on his tongue, making you whine into the kiss and he would’ve thought it was the hottest thing ever if he wasn’t so focused on making it up to you. will overthink this so much and will spend the rest of the night doting on you, even if you insist you’re fine. no ma’am he’s gonna be loving on you until you’re sick of him <3
“oh baby, i’m so sorry :( i just get a little carried away with you sometimes.”
𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎
if there’s one thing this guy l o v e s it’s fucking you in public - just gets such a kick out of the sight of you trying your absolute hardest to hold in your whines and whimpers while he’s stretching you out real good and deep, knowing that any second someone could walk in and witness you being fucked like the slut he loves to claim you are. obsessed with risk of it all, rutting into you against some random dressing room door he pulled you into after a performance, filled with adrenaline and your pretty pussy being the only thing he could think about. every time this mf hears a voice approaching closer he’ll only fuck into you even harder, covering your whole body in his own until all you can see, taste, feel is him. normally you’d be all for public sex, clenching around and milking his cock until you were fucked dumb and covered in his hot cum, but hearing his managers and the other boys so close to the door made you panic and you couldn’t stop the safeword from coming out against his flushed skin. wouldn’t ever take your begs to stop seriously before, cause your hips rutting against his and the tugging of his hair only proved to him how much you actually wanted his dick despite your words. but he’ll do a complete 180 as soon as hears that safeword, pulling you skirt over you cum soaked thighs as you both stilled, finally hearing the voice (that he swore was jisung) fading away into another room. will be extremely pissy that he didn’t get to shoot his load (please he’ll be like a moody teenage boy) but he has to admit he does like the sight of you being left hanging, begging him to fuck you again even though you couldn’t handle the risk.
“gonna kill that mf.”
𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍
can be such a meany with you during sex sometimes, especially after a rough day in the studio. takes all his frustrations out on you and won’t hesitate to manhandle you if you’re being bratty, his only goal in sight being painting your plush walls in his hot cum and your dumb little back talk won’t stop him. angry sex will be such a blur with him, one minute he has his fingers shoved deep inside your pussy and the next they’re wrapped tightly around your neck with his cock drilling into you with so much force the only thing you could let out were choked moans and he was practically eating them up. normally you like when he manhandles you like this, but something about tonight - with his fingers pressing down on your windpipes, tears blurring your sight and the feeling of your cunt all puffy and sensitive from his constant poundings had you choking out the safeword. despite having pretty bad pussy tunnel vision, he’ll snap out of it as soon as he registers your words and before you know it the pressure on your neck has ceased and the strange feeling of your cunt being filled to the brim one minute and empty the next settling in. changbin will be soso ashamed of himself for getting so carried away to the point he made you uncomfortable - crying out the very same safeword he’d never thought either of you would ever have to use. will brush away the tears spilling over onto your flushed cheeks so lovingly and will be so attentive and caring towards you after. please this man will be so afraid to even touch you following this and will probably ban sex fo awhile so just help this stupid mf out, he doesn’t know how to handle this type of shit 😭
“were never having sex again, idc how much you want it.”
“really changbin, cause you’re always the one begging me for it??? 🤨🤨”
𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍
gets pussy drunk so fucking easily. so much time will pass without him even realising it while he’s busy playing with your pussy - please he’s been late to practice and chewed out by both chan and minho more times than he can count cause he gets so carried away between your legs. his hands will keep your pretty folds spread wide open for his tongue to leave fat swipes against your slit, nose nudging into your pussy and humming lowly as your sweet taste hit his tongue - your tummy tightening painfully as he stimulates you even further towards another orgasm. it was all just too much, you could feel him all over you and instead of that overwhelming pleasure you were so used to that makes you oh so lightheaded and pushing his head even further into your heat was instead replaced with a stinging ache, your cunt crying our for him to stop but your voice failed you yet again. as soon as you feel his long digits dip into your pussy - gathering up your wetness and spreading them around your puffy pussy lips - finally you were sobbing out your safeword. istg he’ll be so 🥺 as he pulls away from you, not even hesitating to wrap you up in a fluffy blanket and laying small kisses over your sore body, muttering muffled apologies against the warm skin. extremely understanding and accepts that this sort of stuff will happen sometimes, and you’re just so thankful how mature and sensitive he is to the whole thing. he’ll try not show it but he’ll be extra careful the next few times you have sex, his normally rough words replaced with soft touches and worried eyes, and you could just tell he was afraid of it happening again. 
𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆
#1 contributor to your misery istg. is all over you and makes sure the only thing you can see, feel and taste is him. will have a vibrator shoved deep into your cunt as he fingers work on your clit, tongue lapping up the sweat that collected between your tits from his torture and you swear this man is such a degenerate but that doesn’t stop you from spreading your legs open even further for him, even though it was all on the brink of being too much. he was eating up all your soft cries but you were just trying your best to focus on one thing, mind completely empty as he upped the speed of the vibrator and went back to rubbing your slit even harder and you were just so overwhelmed from the amount of stimulation he was putting your through that you couldn’t even think straight. as soon as you feel the pads of his fingers pinching your tender bud you were choking out the safeword. jisung doesn’t even notice at first, too caught up in replacing the toy with his fingers, muttering something about how ‘a useless piece of plastic dick’ couldn’t please you the way he could while curling his digits deep inside your swollen pussy, groaning out against your warm skin as he felt you close in around them. takes him a little while before his mind finally catches up with his ears but as soon as it does he’ll look up at you all :( - stilling his fingers inside of you for a second before slowly pulling them out. and you just can’t look into those pretty eyes of his cause theres so much worry and shame spilling over them that it almost makes you wanna cry. radiates 100% comfort and will n o t stop apologising the rest of the night, cleaning you up and holding you real close against him, almost as if he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers fort hat one dumb mistake. will defiantly be more attentive during sex afterwards and will look for signs that you’re about to crumble before it’s too late, extremely intent on you not having to use that damn safeword again in future!!
“i’m sorry sweetheart, let me make it up to you.”
𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗
this boy lives to please you so it’ll break his little heart that he made you so uncomfortable that you had to resort to your safeword, he’ll try his best to prevent it anyway possible :( no surprises that he finds himself with his head buried between those heavenly thighs of yours more times than he can count, could probably pass away feeding on your pussy and he’d die a happy man. very attentive to your sounds and he’ll perk up every time you let out a choked sob or whimper, tongue leaving slow, long licks up your slit as he keeps your pussy folds spread open for job - tongue fucking into your tight hole every now and then. probably notices right away when your pleased cries turn to whines of pain and he’ll be ceasing his worship on your clit immediately without you even having to utter your safeword yet. he could practically see it dangling from your lips. and you just wondering how you got so lucky to be with such an angel, knowing exactly what you’re feeling no matter what and having no problem to stop even if it pains him. leaves one last kiss to your puffy folds before crawling up to face you, hovering over your exhausted form before his mouth is on you, kissing you so sweetly as a gentle reminder that he’d never intentionally make you uncomfortable or cause you any sort of pain 🥺👍 you’d probably never have to resort to using your safeword while having sex with him, he’s practically obsessed with you and is so attentive to your body language and sounds - he probably knows when you’ve had enough before you even do, would be the most perfect boyfriend ever <333
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍
the meanest!! has got carried away with his cruel words on more than one occasion. will say shit like, ‘you’re such a cum slut, good for nothing but shooting my load into’ and, ‘look at you begging for my cock, such a dumb girl’ while fucking into you, fingers rubbing at your swollen cunt and the filthy sounds of your wetness coating his dick with every buck of his hips filling the room. normally you’d be eating those words right up, playing into it and looking up at him with the most desperate, cock hungry eyes ever, pussy clenching around nothing when he pulls out of you just to be mean and he’ll laugh straight in your face at the sight, slapping your aching cunt to see those cute tears stinging at your eyes. but it was all too much right now. he was working your clit so roughly and you weren’t sure you could handle it much longer, begging him to slow down but he’s soso pussy drunk rn that he’d think you were just acting up to be brat, fingers leaving bruises on your hips as he continued pounding into you, vile words still spilling from his lips. but as soon as that safeword hits his ears he’ll be stilling instead of you, his cock still twitching deep against your walls and he doesn’t know what to do at first. couldn’t take his eyes off you, you were such a mess; hair messed and limbs twitching, eyes glossy with tears and lips slick and bruised from his kisses. normally he’d get such a kick out of such a sight but all he could feel in that moment was guilt - guilt that he actually went too far this time and was late to notice. gets so soft afterwards and its such a stark contrast to his attitude from when he was fucking you that you couldn’t help but lean into every soft touch and sniffle at every gentle word, desperate for some kind of affection and he was eager to give it. you’re gonna have to assure him that you were just feeling extra sensitive cause he’ll overthink tf out of everything he did and be extremely careful with you in future, will be at least a month until meany!seungmin makes an appearance again - unless you beg prettily enough of course <3
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍
sometimes doesn’t realise how much bigger his cock and fingers are compared to you, and doesn’t work hard enough to stretch your cunt open enough to be able to take him when he’s being needy. especially now as he’s forcing two digits into your hole, pumping them into you at a pace you could hardly keep up with - your choked sobs of ‘slow down’ getting lost into the room as his lips lapped at your neck, groaning into the flushed skin when he felt how tight you were around his fingers. mutters something about ‘if you struggle this much taking my fingers i can’t wait to see you taking my cock.’ and before you know it he’s adding a third, cunt crying out for some type of relief and you just couldn’t take it anymore, the feeling of your pussy closing in around him causing you more pain than anything. so extremely distressed when he registers the safeword spilling from your lips, eyes all round and shining with worry and you wished you weren’t the one to cause that type of expression on such a pretty face. kisses and massages all your sore muscles and will run a nice hot shower for you, letting you lean into his chest as he shampoos your hair. won’t stop apologising so just kiss him to shut him up <3 sometimes doesn’t realise his own strength so he’ll be extra attentive in future, making sure to prep your pussy well and get you nice and wet for his cock before taking you, anything to make the experience more comfortable and enjoyable for you he’s doing it :(
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© 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐬 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.
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jaylaxies · 2 months
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NOW OR NEVER
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PAIRING: spider-man!sunghoon x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.
SYNOPSIS: going around the city with your massive poster which said, ‘Choke me, Spider-Man!’ was something you did for fun, not knowing that your dream might actually come true.
WC: 1.4k words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, loves! this one was requested by my anonnie and i’ve also posted this as a mark fic before! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
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“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”
You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped ever so perfect around your throat.
You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who unfortunately got stuck inside the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.
No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).
To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:
Choke me, Spider-Man!
It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.
Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.
The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused laugh, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.
This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster frantically when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you attention of any sort, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.
Crush on a superhero?
Pathetic.
He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?
Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.
Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.
Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.
The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.
“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.
Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?
Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.
“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.
His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.
“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.
“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.
You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.
He smelled so good.
“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”
“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.
He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.
“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.
He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, you could feel his fang like canines biting down on your bottom lip, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.
Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.
Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to tie them, making sure they didn’t move.
You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.
“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.
“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.
His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.
He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.
“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”
He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.
He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.
His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.
He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.
You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.
You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.
“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window, leaving you dazed.
Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl
permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!
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godslino · 4 months
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MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.
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pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around
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chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡
author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3
“So…I know a guy.”
You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.
“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”
“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.
Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.
You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.
Long story short, it didn’t.
Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.
“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.
“And what would you know about that?”
“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”
This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.
“At least let me tell you about him?”
“No.”
“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”
Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.
“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”
A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.
Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.
Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.
“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.
And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.
But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.
“What’s his name?”
Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”
“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”
He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”
“Five.”
“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”
“Four.”
“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”
“Three.”
“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”
Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.
“You swear this guy is normal?”
Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”
“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”
“No.”
“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”
“What the fuck? I just said no.”
“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”
“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.
“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”
Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.
“Deal.”
🎥🍿
Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.
You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.
When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.
Chan [12:32p.m.]
Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?
Something came up at the studio
I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time
Great. Already off to a rough start.
In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.
You [2:33p.m.]
no worries!!!
you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?
Chan [2:34p.m.]
Nope! So we should be fine
I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?
You [2:36p.m.]
sounds perfect
hope stuff goes well at the studio!!
Chan [2:40p.m.]
You’re sweet
Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)
You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.
Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.
To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.
It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.
The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.
You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.
You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.
Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.
You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.
He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.
He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”
It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.
“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.
“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”
You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.
“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”
Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.
Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.
🎥🍿
Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.
You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.
When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.
“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”
“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.
Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.
Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.
You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.
Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.
By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.
The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.
There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—
“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”
The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.
Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.
“Yup, that’s the one.”
Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.
“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”
You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”
“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.
“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.
“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”
Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.
“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”
First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.
Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.
“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.
“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.
“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”
You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.
“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”
When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”
Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.
The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.
“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.
“Doing what?”
“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”
Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.
There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.
Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.
Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.
About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.
“You okay? You look kind of tired.”
Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.
“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”
“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”
The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.
Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.
“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.
You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.
He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.
“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.
You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”
“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”
🎥🍿
“For you.”
Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.
“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.
After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.
“Oh, you don’t—”
“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”
“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”
Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”
You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”
It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.
The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.
“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”
Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.
“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”
Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.
Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.
“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.
“You don’t know me enough to say that.”
“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”
A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.
“You’re…”
“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.
“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”
You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”
“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.
“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not? I think you like it.”
Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.
“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.
“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.
“Is it bad if I say no?”
Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.
“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”
A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.
It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.
You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.
“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”
“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”
Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.
“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.
“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.
“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.
“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”
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[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]
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© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.
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Vice.
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Synopsis - Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.
Pairing - Luke Alvez x Female Reader
Warnings - smut. cursing. luke has a gorgeous filthy mouth.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 1.6k
Author's Note - my baby my baby my BAAAAAABY!! I have been in love with this man for years and years and I can't believe I haven't written more for him. if you ever have a luke request, please send it to me. love him with my whole heart <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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Vice - a weakness of character or behaviour; a bad habit. "Cigars happen to be my father's vice."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Italian food."
The entire team laughs, faces illuminated by the warm yellow lights in Rossi's backyard.
"Yeah, no shit," Tara retorts, looking pointedly at Dave. "Doesn't take a behavioural analyst to figure that one out."
"Look, you asked the question, I answered."
He reclines back in his chair and takes a sip of his wine, looking around the table.
"Okay Tara, you go. What's your vice?"
She chuckles to herself before confessing.
"Super steamy period romances."
Everyone bursts into more laughter.
"Wait, what?"
"What kind?"
She's clutching at her sides as she answers.
"All kinds! Movies, books, TV shows. If it has corsets and sex, I'm in."
Your cheeks are aching from smiling so hard. You're not sure who first raised the initial question, but it's really allowed you to get to know each other a little bit deeper.
"Okay, enough about me. Simmons, what's your vice?"
"I have six kids. I don't have time for a vice."
He sounds serious, but he's grinning as he says it.
"I think the six kids are a result of an old vice."
The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, several glasses of wine almost obliterating your verbal filter. Your team howl with laughter.
"No comment," Matt wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "Golfing is a safer option now. No risk of unplanned surprises."
"I had to change mine after kids, too," JJ chimes in. "I used to smoke cigarettes after bad cases, but I can't anymore. What kinda mom would I be if I lectured the boys about the dangers of nicotine, and then got caught chain smoking in the backyard?"
"A cool one," you shrug, yelping when she jokingly punches you in the arm.
"What about you, hotshot?" she asks, the whole team turning their attention to you. "What's your vice?"
You desperately avoid any eye contact, trying to play it cool. You just know Luke has that glint in his eye as he looks at you pointedly.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Oh, fuck," you groan, fingers threading into the dark curls of his hair.
"Shhh, honey," he murmurs, lifting his head from between your legs to look up at you. "You and I both know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught."
He dives back in, tongue gliding and flicking all the spots that make you keen. You slap one hand over your mouth, the other grappling to hold onto the leather beneath you.
"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts, condescension dripping from his tone. "The thrill turns you on, doesn't it, baby? The risk of getting caught only makes you hotter."
You whine against your palm, bucking your hips to urge him to keep going.
"What do you want, princesa? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."
He loves this. Loves hearing you beg. Loves having you relinquish complete control and let him take care of you. Loves that he can turn you, the most independent, headstrong woman he knows, into a whining, needy mess.
"Fingers," you croak out. "Make me come, Luke, please."
He grins up at you like the cat who got the cream, self satisfied smirk never leaving his lips.
"Okay, baby," he soothes. "Since you asked so pretty."
He slides two fingers into you with embarrassing ease, crooking them in the way he knows you like.
"Oh, sweet girl, what would the team think? Huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this, letting me finger fuck you in the backseat of my car in the parking garage?"
He's muttering lowly, under his breath, but you hear him clear as day. He loves to patronise you, tease you, get under your skin. In everyday life, he treats you with the utmost respect. In bed, not so much. You love it.
"Couldn't even wait until we got home. Poor baby, just had to take the edge off."
His eyes meet yours, like a magnetic force. His gaze is so dark, it has you squirming in place.
"It was the shirt," you choke out. "Fucking shirt."
"Hmm?" he hums against you, the vibrations pulling you closer to the edge.
"Your shirt," you moan as his thumb finds your clit. "Makes your arms look so, fuck, so big."
Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You can practically see his ego inflating.
"I'll let you wear it tomorrow morning, if you want. If you can still walk by then, that is."
You're right on the precipice, orgasm almost within reach. If he keeps talking to you like this, you'll be at the finish line in no time.
"Oh, I've got a better idea. Why don't I fuck you in it?"
The idea makes your head spin, sending you straight into your climax. Sharp white heat licks up your spine, curling your toes and arching your back. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans, low and honeyed.
"That's it, baby," he's murmuring. "Ride it out. Good girl."
You finally relax, melting into the leather seats. Luke crawls from his position to lean over you, resting his body onto yours. He kisses you gently at first, then dirtier as you come back to yourself.
"My place or yours?" he whispers against your lips.
"Yours is closer."
"Mine it is."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Hello? Earth to Hotshot?"
JJ nudges you playfully, grinning at you from ear to ear.
"What you thinking about?"
"Nothing," you stutter, clearing your throat. "Nothing at all."
You make the mistake of lifting your gaze from your lap. There, staring at you from across the table, is Luke Alvez. You almost wish you could slap that smug smirk off of his face.
"Come on, girl!" Tara hollers.
"Everyone has a vice," Spencer begins. "You have to. Especially in our line of work. We have to have some kind of outlet. Some sort of release."
Release. You almost choke on your wine, patting yourself on the chest.
"Yeah, no. I, uh, I like British reality TV. I guess that's mine."
The team laugh, everyone teasing you relentlessly. You risk a glance at Luke, and regret it immediately. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and chuckles, knowing look in his eye. You're petrified for a moment that he can read your mind.
"Okay then Spence. Your turn," you prompt, desperate to take the attention off yourself.
Spencer starts rambling about quantum physics, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
Relief.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Yeah, this is what you needed, isn't it baby?"
You try to respond, but Luke's huge hands wrapped around your throat are making it a little difficult.
"My poor sweet girl, just needed some relief huh? You sick of being in charge all the time? You want me to take care of you?"
His tone is low and melted, the timbre of it settling into your bones. All you can do is whine and nod your head in response.
His hips repeatedly snap into yours, his body melded to you. He's completely smothering you with his weight, but you don't mind. You like the closeness.
You lean up to kiss him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He's swallowing your moans, leaning his head forward to rest against yours.
"Fuck, you sound so pretty," he groans. "You gonna come for me, mama? Give me what I want?"
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Please, baby. Please."
"Who am I to deny you when you beg so fucking sweet?"
The hand that's not around your throat snakes between your sweat slicked bodies to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge.
Your back arches, hips writhing on Luke's soft cotton sheets. You're squeezing him so tight he's seeing stars.
"Oh fuck baby, oh fuck."
Luke goes boneless, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He releases his grip on your throat and wraps both arms around you, pressing you together impossibly closer.
"We get better at this every time," he chuckles.
You smack him jokingly, before bursting into laughter. Soon, the two of you are crying happy tears, revelling in the afterglow.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"I'm gonna get a refill. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?"
You stand from your seat and make your way inside, taking note of the replies.
"I'll help you," Luke says, rising to join you. Neither of you see the way everyone at the table looks at each other knowingly.
You're barely through the door when you feel him against you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder, murmuring in your ear.
"I'm your vice, aren't I?"
You shake your head, breathing out a laugh.
"In your dreams, Alvez."
He nips at your neck before continuing.
"Admit it. I'm your dirty little bad habit that you just can't kick."
You turn in his arms to face him, running your fingers through his hair.
"Talk the talk all you want, Luke. You and I both know this works both ways."
Your quirk your brow at him, and he leans in and kisses you chastely.
"Old habits die hard, huh?" he grins.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," you smirk back.
Outside, the team decide they'll continue to let you both lie to them for a little while longer. It's more fun for everyone that way.
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moonastro · 4 months
Text
your fs's cute habits
pick a picture
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left to right(top)-> 1,2,3
𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑how to choose an image? take a deep breath, close your eyes, RELAX, and let your intuition do the rest.
𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑remember, you can be drawn to more than one picture!!
°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes.
°Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it).
° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!
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pile one
they might have a smirk to their smile, or have this instinctive smile that they do that is unique to them. i don't know, it feels very cute though. like i see them doing it whenever they get shy or get suddenly happy. Also, along with that will be their laugh. they may have a distinctive laugh that they do. they may hit (in a friendly way) when laughing or they may get weak and pretend fall, and so on. i do see them being dramatic with it though😅. your person may randomly say what's on their mind without any context. like it will become so normal to you guys that you will either go with it or just ignore it. by random i mean like continuing a conversation you guys had 30 minutes ago and they add to it, or they purely just bring up the time when they were a kid and such. in public, i feel like they will be quite shy, they may unintentionally hide behind you especially if you are talking with someone or walk slightly behind. they may be a slow walker too, its not because they are slow but they get distracted easily. by the nature, the birds, the cars, the buildings etc etc. very much new soul vibes, taking in everything around them. they can be a collector and have a collection of little figures and items. it is their possessions and they will protect their collection with all their heart and take time to correct their positions and such when accidently moved.
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pile two
awk, this is too cute, so your partner may blush quite often. it may be from embarrassment, anger, stress, or getting put in the spotlight. you may find it cute because it can make you love them even more and it may make you feel like they are like more genuine?? anyway, they may space out quite often, probably just blanking out and staring into abyss. this may be a habit and they may have a nickname given from spacing out so much 😅. like for example, you may ask them a question and they reply with mumbles and when you say 'did you even hear what i said' they come back and go 'huh' or 'no, sorry'. you may laugh at it because you find the way they look doing it cute. you may find it cute when they get mad. they may have a face that they do or do a gesture that you notice each time. its giving me every time when they're angry you cant take them seriously and then they get even more mad. the way they eat/chew may be significant, so they may pout/ make a cute face when eating.
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pile three
okay, so pile 3, your person is giving very much clueless energy. i feel like most of the time they may not know what you may be talking about but they still contribute to the conversation so you wont feel upset about it. but i feel like you will always ask them if they know what you mean and then they'll admit that they don't! but i do see you laughing it off and telling them that they can admit if they don't get it. oh, they are really into structure and have really organised drawers, closets, shoe racks and so forth. you may find it cute how they keep it VERY organised and are serious about it too. you may find their concentrated face cute lol. they do portray this youthful energy so they might express those characteristics through their actions. they definitely don't like to argue and will let you win every single time which may feel frustrating sometimes but they just avoid it at all cost and feel there is no need for it. it can make you feel guilty about it though and make you want to take care of them. at the end of they day you laugh it off and find it cute. they may have trouble with their vision and may squint a lot- you can tend to make fun of them cutely for it. like, every minute of they day you see they squinting at EVERYTHING and that can catch you off guard and make you laugh by their cuteness. this is a very fun/ laughter couple so there is a lot of laughing and giggling involved.
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thank you dear soul for reading this!! it is greatly appreciated, and i hope you all are doing well and enjoyed this post🤍.
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