Like Ink On Paper, Like Red Wine On White Silk ( The Taste Of Honey Chapter 4 )
like ink on paper, like red wine on white silk ( the taste of honey chapter 4 )
pairing: young aristocrat hyunjin x f!reader | wc: 32.4k | genre: 19th century au, arranged marriage, romance, smut | warnings: period-appropriate themes & customs including sexuality and beliefs ; virgin!reader ; mutual pining ; slow burn ; heavy angst ; anguish and dark thoughts ; view all compiled warnings here. This work is for adult audiences only. This work portrays explicit sexual content and themes & actions that might trigger some, reader discretion is strongly advised. @cb97percent, dearest, this one's for you.
You had seen a tiger only once in your life but it was quite memorable. It might have been domesticated but it was still the largest cat you had ever seen. You wouldn’t forget the look in its eyes as it descended to devour the carcass the circus workers had left for him. A beautiful beast, too thin, locked in a cage. Hyunjin had the same look in his eyes tonight. What a beautiful beast he was, too, only his prison did not have bars.
The morning of your thirteenth birthday, you found yourself barefoot on the back porch of your family’s villa, throwing nuts on the ground for your favorite squirrel. You liked all the squirrels, of course, but this one had a special place in your heart because its tail was missing. Not only did it stand out, but he was also noticeably less dexterous. He moved slowly and rarely reached the same spots as the others that sometimes roamed the property.
You named the squirrel Henry. And it wasn’t that big of a deal either. It was just that your family could most definitely spare a few nuts here and there and this tiny rodent could use them. It made you smile, though, to see him and his unusual hopping as you went on your days. It gave you a thing to look forward to—and you had very few of those.
You were nervous that your mother would find you here. Like that. Because of Henry and because of other things, too. At that point, it was the second year he spent around the villa and your mother was well aware that you had taken a liking to him. There were things, like Henry, that she tolerated. The beehives, for example. She let you spend some time every other day with the old beekeeper, Mr. Ito, and you had no idea why. She was so strict and unyielding about everything else that it made no sense to allow you something as beautiful as that.
Sometimes, you wondered if it was so that you would not hate her. Perhaps she thought that if she let you have the beekeeping and a garden, it would keep you strong for the rest of it. For the endless lessons—etiquette, manners, dance, embroidery, reading, sewing, singing.
In a couple of years, you’d be learning about politics—a woman, especially not a lady, did not need to be very knowledgeable on the matter, not to the point of forming an opinion about any of it.
However, she would need to know enough to entertain some conversation with her husband, and maybe even some of his business partners, while the men sat around a table to discuss such things. A lady would not be at her place sitting at the table but she would be expected to make a brief appearance—it gave her husband a good reason to show her off, especially if she made one or two witty remarks and was generous on the wine or liquor they drank.
Your mother made you write that down. All of her lectures. All of her lessons. She said it made you practice spelling and your calligraphy at once, and that written words are engraved deeper into the memory of girls. In your bedroom there was a large dresser made of cherry wood and one of the drawers was almost full to the brim with sheets of paper. The words your mother made you write down. The standards she expected of you.
Like, a lady should know better than anybody how to run her house—including her husband. For that, your mother regularly made you join the staff in their chores. You had learned how to wash, dry, and fold laundry. You had learned how to store food, and how to make preserves. More lessons would come. Your middle drawer was full of loose sheets with everything and anything on them. Recipes for soups or cakes or venison. Lists of the best brands of specific products, from cleaning supplies to liquor. Reputable clothing brands.
There were a few songs among those sheets, too. These, you didn’t mind. You liked music. Out of all the lessons, singing was your favorite one, partially because it bore your mother enough that she never stayed around for the entirety of it. But also, and most importantly, you were good at it, and music made you feel alive. You stood near the piano while your teachers played, and you sang along while working on your pitch. Sometimes, the teachers even let you play a few notes on the piano.
You often sang to the bees. The hives and Mr. Ito were your usual audience, and they were easy to please. You were too young to execute some of the harvesting steps, Mr. Ito said, but you were welcome to watch as closely as you wanted. He said that you enthralled the bees, that they remained calm when you were around.
The morning of your thirteenth birthday, you woke up before the rest of your family, although you could hear the staff already at work. The night before, it had been Lillie, the Head Housekeeper, who put you to bed. Your parents were hosting a big dinner to celebrate your sister’s engagement to the son of a wealthy man and you had to be excused from the festivities due to a stomach ache. So it had been Lillie who put you into your sleeping gown and brushed your hair. She pressed warm towels on your belly to make the stomach ache go away. You liked Lillie. She was kind and always treated you with tenderness and love, the way a mother would, the way your mother never had. You only figured the belly ache came from all the stress you had that day, in anticipation of your birthday. It seemed like thirteen was such a big number, even if it was just one more than twelve.
Your sister was seventeen. She and her fiancé would get married soon after she turned eighteen.
You questioned your mother about that one afternoon. “Mother, you said that we would begin our journey to Hwang Estate not before I turned twenty, maybe after.” Already, at your age, you were aware that it was unusual. “Why is Kimi’s marriage at eighteen, then?”
Your mother liked it when you asked direct questions. “Because your marriage is more important,” she told you. “When he is of age, Lord Hyunjin will become a more powerful man than Mr. Hughes, so I want you to be more prepared. More… ripe. When I send you over to him.”
But you had visited the lumberyard owned by the Hughes with the rest of your family. It was huge. The whole place smelled like freshly cut wood, but it was very dusty. When you pointed out to your mother that it looked like this place was rather busy and that it must be important, she shook her head. “Hwang Estate is one thing, my daughter. The estate itself is large—I told you, it is surrounded by a beautiful pine forest. But the Hwangs own the land beyond that forest, too. More acres than your brain can comprehend without seeing it. There are farms on it. He also owns a factory.”
In any case. You weren’t exactly sure you understood what importance was, not in the context related by your mother. Because to you, none of these things were important. Not the size of the Hughes’ lumberyard, not the size of Hyunjin’s estate or the farms around it. To you, all that mattered was that one day, you would go over there and get married to your friend. Your only friend.
You turned thirteen today.
That morning, you woke up with something sticky and warm between your legs. For the first few seconds you assumed you peed the bed, which seemed properly impossible, and yet. Then, after frantically pushing the covers off you, you found yourself in a small puddle of your own blood. You stared at it for a long time, tears running down your face. You tore the sheets off the bed and realized that it had stained the mattress, too, but you wiped it as well as you could and put fresh covers back on. Nobody would guess, and your bed wasn’t due for a change for two more days, so it would give you time.
It was too soon. You had been told to expect it a few years from now.
Your mother had prepared you for that day. The day you would become a woman. You knew what that entailed. Your mother had prepared you for that, too—the consequences of it all. The monthly bleeds were part of the cycle that would allow you to have a baby inside you one day. It would be Lord Hyunjin who would put it there. The baby. And your mother had taught you all about that too, saying that Lord Hyunjin was like a gardener. He would plant his seed inside you on the days when you did not bleed out of your entrance. She called it like that. An entrance—a garden.
The act is a lot more pleasurable for men than it is for women, she also said. They sometimes have special demands or requests—it is expected of you to comply. You are pretty, you are young, you are a maiden, and the most precious thing you have is this purity that you keep between your legs, that your husband is waiting to break. For this reason, it is expected of you to keep your garden unsullied until your husband plants his seed inside it.
Unsullied.
But that morning, you washed yourself up and hid your soiled clothes underneath your bed with the bedsheets. You shoved your least favorite cotton shirt into your undergarments and put another nightgown back on—this way, nobody would know what happened. You needed time to process.
You had never had much of it. Freedom. But from the moment your mother would find out you were bleeding from between your legs, you would have none.
You hated the feeling of it. The dampness, the sharp pain, the nausea spells taking over you. But you stayed outside nonetheless because you were waiting for the mail.
Your heart jumped at the mere thought of it. If you were lucky enough, you would be able to intercept Mr. Greene—the villa’s Head Steward—before he brought the mail back into his office, and he would give you Hyunjin’s letter.
Year after year, it was the only thing you ever looked forward to. Your birthday, and the words Hyunjin sent you.
However, that morning, it wasn’t the mail that you intercepted, but rather a conversation between your parents. They hadn’t seen you on the back porch because the curtains of the parlor were drawn, but one of the windows had been left open to let some fresh air in. It very soon became obvious that you weren’t supposed to hear that conversation at all but you could not move without the risk of the creaking of planks to betray you.
“Are you seriously going to refuse Lord Grover’s offer?” your mother scolded in a tone that was usually reserved for you. “An Earl, Ian! An Earl! Are you out of your damn mind?”
A silence followed during which you heard your father let out a long, tired sigh. “We made a promise and I intend on keeping it,” he said in the end. “I’m a man of honor.”
“You may be a man of honor, but Hwang is no longer of this world to complain about a broken promise,” your mother retorted with disdain. “Because he had no honor at all and it caused his demise. Do you really want your daughter to marry into that family?”
Your heart sank to your stomach as your brain was working at inhuman speed to process everything you were hearing. You may have been only thirteen, but you weren’t stupid—you knew what this conversation was implying. You knew of Hyunjin’s father and the shame he had brought on his family—Hyunjin had sent a letter that year, telling you he would understand if you no longer wished to marry him. But to you, his father’s wrongdoings meant nothing.
Because it was him that you liked. Hyunjin. And you knew he wasn’t like that, like his father. You knew from the letters he sent, and because you were very much unlike your mother.
“I want our family to be able to keep its head held high,” your father said. “It would bring dishonor to us if we were to annul the betrothal. What Hwang did doesn’t change the fact that our daughter will marry into a wealthy, comfortable life, and we still keep our word.”
“Your word. It was your word, not mine.” Your mother clicked her tongue. “I don’t think it would bring us dishonor at all. I don’t think the Hwang boy would have much trouble finding himself a wife. With his mother’s connections, he could probably marry some royal relative, even. For all we know, it’s what he’s going to do anyway. He’s getting older now, an orphan, and he’s responsible for himself. Who’s to say he won’t wed some girl and impregnate her, completely disregarding our arrangement?”
You pressed your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound of your sobs, which you could not control. The inside of your body felt cold like a winter day. You felt so little all of a sudden. Insignificant. Stupid. Unsightly. Revolting. With blood sticking to your thighs and tears rolling your face and your hair tangled and unwashed, with the scent of nuts and corn on your fingers after feeding Henry.
She was right, your mother.
Hyunjin was your friend. Your only friend. He was all that you had and you didn’t even have him yet. He was kind and sweet in the letters he sent you, but nothing about it promised you a happy marriage to him or a marriage at all. Even if he said he couldn’t wait for you to come live with him.
He was reaching an age where boys wanted certain things and thought a lot about girls and their gardens.
“The exact same could be said about Theodore,” your father retorted. “He could impregnate two or three princesses by the time our daughter is of age.”
Theodore—Lord Grover’s son. You did not know him but he and his parents had been guests for the dinner last night, their family being close with the Hughes. It was an honor, your mother said, to host an Earl and his family for a meal, and it had been why she had been so quick to send you away last night when you felt ill. She’d rather you disappear than embarrass her with your childish pain, which, in the end, had been caused by something that was anything but childish.
He was sitting a few seats down from you during dinner—he had been seated by your mother, not too far from your brother. Surely, she wanted him to become friends with the future earl. Theodore was a tall boy of almost twenty years old, with dark eyes and chestnut-brown hair that had a touch of cinnamon in it, which you could only assume came from his mother, whose hair was the color of copper. He was very outgoing and talked to everybody with just the right amount of respect and politeness expected of him. He was handsome even, in the way a boy his age could be. Not quite a man yet but no longer a child.
“He wouldn’t do that! He’ll be an earl,” your mother insisted. “Don’t you want your daughter to marry an earl?”
You could no longer control yourself—the nausea hit you so hard you became dizzy and fell to your knees. You cried, just waiting for the lightheadedness to pass, unable to help your sobs. The pain in your lower abdomen was so sharp it felt like a knife but the pain in your heart was sharper. You didn’t want any of that. You wanted Hyunjin. You had known all your life that you would be his wife someday. And you didn’t want it any other way.
“What is this?” You heard your mother as she approached the nearest window. You couldn’t stand in time, but you managed to wipe some of your tears and your mouth before her face appeared through the glass.
A strange expression, one that you had never seen on her, appeared on her face. It crept up slowly, almost like she was resisting it. Your father appeared by her side—you heard him talk to her in a very irritated voice but couldn’t make out the words as you were too taken up by the mere effort of stopping your cries. Your mother hated it when you cried.
She stormed outside but by the time she was on the porch, you had run away, not minding the destination. All that you wanted was to go far from here. You wanted to be yesterday when you weren’t a woman yet. You wanted to be years from now when you wouldn’t live here anymore but on a pretty estate surrounded by a pine forest.
If Hyunjin wanted you at all.
Your mother caught up with you when you tripped over a rock and fell face-first into the soft grass growing around the property. The soil absorbed most of the shock but none of your shame or your sorrow.
“Get up! Someone will see you!” She grabbed at your gown, attempting to pull you up. “What have I told you about eavesdropping? What have I—”
Her sentence was cut short when she saw blood in the process of tugging at your gown. It left her speechless long enough for you to stand on your own and escape her grip. “I don’t want to marry him,” you managed through your tears, but it was difficult to speak with how tight your throat was. “Please, Mother. Not him, not Lord Grover’s son,” you begged, and you had never begged before in your life. “Please, Mother, I don’t love him, I don’t want to, please, please—”
She raised a hand in the air and used it to strike you in the face hard enough that you almost lost your balance again. It effectively caused you to stop crying as you stared at her, bewildered. It wasn’t the first time you got a strike to the face, but it had never been this hard before. The pain spread underneath your skin like spilled ink on paper.
There were tears in her eyes, but that happened when she was really angry. “How dare you speak to me like this! How dare you show yourself in such a way when we have guests in our home!”
The sting became an ache on your cheek. You knew it would become red and swollen, which meant you would spend the next several days locked in your room, away from prying eyes.
“You’re not worthy of the Grovers, clearly,” your mother commented with disdain. “The wife of an Earl does not act like a spoiled child.” She scoffed. “I doubt they will retain their marriage offer after they hear of your little tantrum.”
You did not know what kind of life you would live. But if you ever had a child, you would not hit them, not even if they misbehaved.
“You said I was going to marry Hyunjin,” you muttered, averting your gaze. “He’s my friend.”
“Friend? He’s your friend?” She lowered herself to look at you from up close. “You know, they say he has his father’s demons in his eyes.”
“No,” you said. Then, “I don’t care. I love him.”
Your mother broke into a burst of hysterical laughter—it echoed in the quiet morning. You noticed Henry nearby, alarmed by the sound, scuttling away.
“Mother,” you murmured. “Please, stop.” She looked scary. You just wanted to return to your room. “Please. Stop.”
She didn’t stop yet—instead, the laughter slowed down, punctuated by deep breaths. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, following your gaze. “Were you feeding that vermin again? What did I tell you about this?”
“He’s not vermin! He’s… he’s my friend.” Henry had reached a tall oak tree and disappeared among the branches.
“He’s your friend,” your mother repeated, her eyes filling with angry tears again. “Let me guess. You love him, too? Have you ever had a fondness for something whole? Why is it that whenever you love something, it’s broken, or crippled?”
She grabbed you by the nape of your neck and dragged you back home, lecturing you about the responsibilities of a girl who became a woman and how you had to be stronger than this, stronger than your willingness to help out a squirrel that didn’t have a tail, stronger than the strange feeling brought by your first bleeding. You had to be stronger than those stupid little childish feelings of yours. “You’re a fool for loving him, child.”
The year you turned thirteen, your mother was so angry at you—or at your father, or both—that she did not allow you to read Hyunjin’s letter. She burned it in front of your eyes, and if a gift had come with it, she never told you. “You will learn to behave like a woman. Like a lady,” she said as the paper turned to ashes. “You could have been the wife of an earl, but instead you will be the wife of a deranged man. Maybe he will be despised by all—maybe that is what you want. To be stained by him.”
He was all that you had. Hyunjin. He was all that you ever wanted, because all this time, he had been the only thing that made you feel like a person and not a lump of clay to be fashioned into something. And you loved him—as broken as he might be.
The sky was blue and clear and the air was cool, the breeze carrying the scent of fall with it. The grass you lay upon was cool too, but soft and comfortable, heating up slowly under the sun as the day advanced. There was nothing around except for the pine forest on one side and a secluded corner of the lake on the other. You could hear the gentle waves flapping on the shore. You heard a few birds, too.
The scene may have been beautiful and serene, but it was the last thing on your mind at the moment.
Hyunjin, your Hyunjin, towering over you, his shirt half-unbuttoned and his hair undone, occupied every molecule of your brain, of your soul. He looked like a feral thing like that, but perhaps it was just because you couldn’t wait to feel him even more.
“Open your legs for me darling, will you?”
His voice echoed through you like an earthquake, starting from your scalp, running all the way to your extremities, but not without coating your core with something warm and heavy. Your lips were raw and swollen from the past hour spent kissing him. On the mouth, in his neck. His hands, his jaw.
You locked eyes with your husband. You never wanted to look at anything but him. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
His fingers dug themselves deeper into the plush flesh of your thighs, waiting, eager. He didn’t need to ask you to do it—if Hyunjin wanted, he could open your legs at any moment he wished. He was stronger than you were, and you wouldn’t resist him anyway.
But he liked asking. And you liked it when he asked. When he begged.
His honey skin was warm, warm enough that you did not feel the wind. You only felt him. And his hands on your thighs, so close to your pussy that you swore he could feel how wet you were.
Slowly, you parted open your legs, just for him, and met no resistance. Hyunjin’s expression changed, turning grave and contemplative as he watched. As you offered yourself to him.
He bit his lower lip. “Oh,” he murmured, his voice low, evoking the same honey as his skin. “Baby, you’re soaked…”
You would never get used to it.
Hyunjin lowered himself between your legs, wasting no time before he left wet kisses over your thighs, holding you still. He had hitched up your skirt a while ago already and the contrast between his body and the cool air gave you goosebumps.
It never quite felt real. When he touched you. When he held you. When he looked you in the eyes and called you darling, at any time of the day. You kept waiting for the moment you’d wake up from this dream and return to reality where Hyunjin avoided you like the plague. Yet, months passed, and it never came, allowing you to make a home out of this dream-like life you were in.
You did awaken in the morning but the dream kept on going because you were in your lord husband’s bed and his arms were usually wrapped around your body. If they weren’t, you were holding him, and if you weren’t, he was pressed so close to you that you could feel him, all of him, over all of you. His scent, masculine yet delicate, now lingered on you always, following you wherever you went like a reminder of his love.
You liked it. When you woke up like that, in Hyunjin’s bed, his hard, straining cock pressed on your lower back. You liked it so much that you usually made a point of not waking him up to make the moment last longer. You let it permeate you like ink on paper. Like red wine on white silk. Keeping your eyes closed, you usually registered every little detail you could. Where his hands were. The rhythm of his breathing. His pulse. The little sleepy noises spilling from his lips.
But came a time when it was no longer enough, when your soaked pussy ached for him in a way that could not be put into words. Sometimes you woke him up by taking him into your mouth. You liked it so much. His deep, bitter taste, stronger in the morning. His musky scent. You rarely felt as connected to him as when his heartbeat pulsed through his cock onto your tongue. He watched attentively as you sucked him off, as you massaged his balls just the way you knew he liked. You loved feeling him resist the urge to fuck your throat—the restrained thrusts, the whimpers, his fist in your hair.
Sometimes, he’d tell you that he loved you as he emptied himself in your mouth, and you were certain that this was as close as you’d ever get to a miracle.
This morning, it had been Hyunjin who was up before you. He woke you up with a kiss on your bare shoulder, pulling you back against him. “Let’s have breakfast by the lake, darling, while the weather still allows it.” Some trees were losing their green and turning yellow—you knew that soon, what wasn’t a pine or a spruce would be bright orange or red, and that days would be cold, and nights even colder.
This was Hyunjin’s secret place, he called it. It was quite a walk from the manor but worth every minute of it. It was private and comfortable and pretty. He liked being with you here.
He liked eating your pussy here.
Your breakfast—fresh bread, cheese, and autumn strawberries was left untouched in the basket you carried it in. Hyunjin had decided he wanted to feast on something else.
You shuddered when his hot breath caressed your glistening folds, but you arched into him when he used one of his hands to part your pussylips open. You never reacted gently to him—every little contact felt like a thousand kisses, or a thousand little flames, or both at once.
Heat rushed to your core when Hyunjin gave your pussy three kisses. One on your mons, one on your entrance, and lastly one directly onto your clit. You moaned, biting into your fist, knowing that you were out of sight but not necessarily out of earshot.
“Darling.” He did not need to say anything more—one word, this one word, was worth a lifetime of waiting.
Hyunjin gave your cunt a few tentative, bashful kitten licks, moaning when your taste melted on his tongue. He accentuated the pressure he applied by bobbing his head, licking and lapping at you.
Your hand found his hair. So that you could anchor yourself to something. So that you could keep it there, right there, and rub yourself all over his face. “Yes, yes, yes…” Your voice was no more than a desperate whine. Hyunjin responded by moaning louder into your cunt, reacting to how needy you were.
“My darling wife,” he murmured, pulling away just a little to breathe. He looked at you from there, his gaze piercing and heavy, his pink, pillowy lips coated with your slick. “You become such a wild thing when you get your pretty pussy eaten, don’t you?”
You clenched at that, at the sound of his voice, at his hooded eyes. Propping yourself on your elbow to make sure you’d see as much as you could, you watched as Hyunjin returned to your folds, licking at you with fervor, as though he was running out of time, or patience. It was sloppy, and the sounds of his mouth as he tasted you were making you dizzy.
He slurped and slurped, his smooth tongue running all over your folds before he lingered at your entrance, teasing you, then pushing it within you. A stronger wave of pleasure took over you every time. And he knew it. Hell, you could feel his pleased smile against your pussy as he fucked you with his tongue in long, slow licks, savoring you, swallowing every drop of you that he could. It was too much. It wasn’t enough.
You wanted him in every way one could have somebody. If it had been possible, you would have woven your soul to his so that the two of you were never apart. He belonged there. Between your legs. In your heart.
And you belonged there too, in his embrace, in his heart. You belonged to him.
You wanted him. To feel him, to feel him against you. You tugged at his hair and yet Hyunjin did not budge—he moved from your hole to your clit, flicking his tongue gently all over it, bringing you closer to the edge. You moaned with your mouth wide open, your voice echoing over the lake, disappearing into the pine forest. You moaned again, louder, pulling harder at your husband’s silky hair so that he would come find you here. “Please,” you pleaded, your face contorted with pleasure and impatience alike.
He was handsome in the purest way possible. In the most sinful, depraved way. His mouth remained agape as he caught his breath, his lips and cheeks and chin wet with your juices. His breath smelled like your cunt. Some of his hair stuck to his temples—you pushed it behind his ear as you caressed his flushed cheek.
He was so hard—his trousers did very little to conceal the bulge his cock formed in them. He rubbed himself onto your cunt, staining his pants with your cream.
You took his face in both of your hands, pulling him into a kiss. He took your lips and kissed you hard with his pussy-infused mouth. You loved your own taste, especially like this. He whispered your name and you breathed it in, whispering his in return.
Hooking your knees on his waist, you rolled Hyunjin until he was on his back and you straddled him. He was even more beautiful like this, sprawled onto the soft grass, lips swollen, the tent in his pants beckoning you. You took no time pulling his pants down, exposing his length. Finally.
You loved his cock. You just loved it. The way it looked. The way it tasted, the way it smelled. The way it felt under your tongue or in your hand or anywhere else on your body. You wrapped your hand around his base, eliciting a hiss from Hyunjin, his head falling back to rest on the ground.
You loved your husband, you loved his cock. And you wanted him badly. You wanted him in ways he would never take you—how often did you desperately rub your clit at the thought of him fucking you? Of him claiming you by stuffing your tight cunt with his cock, filling you with his cum? You often wondered what it felt like. To be made whole by your husband’s seed, dripping slowly out of your fucked out hole after he was done with you.
He throbbed in your palm. You secured yourself on top of him, guiding his cock at your pussy but not at your entrance. He moaned when you coated it with your creamy slick, grunting at the sensation of his smooth, hot cock rubbing onto your soaked pussy. He touched it, grazing his fingertips on the places where his length touched you, your pussy, the soft, pillowy skin there. One morning you woke up to him sketching you, using his dominant hand to draw you naked on his bed and the other to stroke his leaking cock. He refused to let you touch him—you weren’t to move, he was drawing you. To practice. He really wanted to learn. He drew you well, down to your slick sticking to the soft trimmed hair of your pussy. And then he made you cum with his tongue two times, and he blew his load all over your face just to watch it drip onto your tits.
You loved him. You rubbed your soaked pussy all over his length, using him the same way you sometimes used a pillow to relieve your urges. He was so hard. God, so hard. For you. Just for you.
He tugged at the shirt you were wearing, undoing enough buttons to free your tits. He kissed them, he caressed them, he twisted your nipples until he felt your pussy throb at that.
His eyelids fluttered when you found your rhythm, rutting against him with your hips rolling in ample waves. “Baby—” he let out with a strangled voice. “Use me. Like that.”
And you were using him a little. Once you felt his cock, nothing could stop you. It drove you crazy when he was this hard, when he was looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world. It just felt so good. Him, there, between your folds, throbbing against your clit. You leaned over to kiss him again, harder this time, your tongue following the same tempo as your hips. You knew that Hyunjin would cum soon because his breathing was shallow,because his fingers were digging themselves into your waist.
You were close too. You wanted to appreciate the moment, the feeling of your cunt on him, your slick dripping onto him, but your mind kept wandering to your most profound desires. You wondered what it would feel like if you were riding him like that but with his cock inside you. How deep it would reach.
You could. Fuck, you could guide him inside you right now—you were so wet it couldn’t possibly be difficult for him to stretch you open, but you’d love it if it hurt. You wanted it to hurt. You wanted Hyunjin to drill into you. You wanted him to use you, to fuck you so hard it brought tears to your eyes. You wanted to be used and loved and fucked by him.
The ripples of pleasure in your core became waves and then a monsoon—surging from within, warm and intoxicating. You could no longer control your moans as they spilled from your lips in loud, staccato breaths. You moved faster, rubbing yourself harder on Hyunjin’s cock, like an animal would. It was too good, too warm, too wet—you couldn’t hold yourself up. Collapsing onto his chest as you chased your high, you buried your face into his neck. Just fuck me just give me your cock… please please I want you to cum inside me—
You realized you were speaking out loud when Hyunjin put his hands on your arms, pulling you away so that he could look you in the eyes.
You had never seen this look on his face before. A glare. Something worse.
For a second—just a second—he frightened you. Like he was a lion and you were a gazelle in the moments before he ripped your throat open. And yet you did not love him, or want him, any less because of it.
His grip on you tightened and before you knew it, you found yourself pinned on the ground underneath him, his cock dangerously close to your hole. You couldn’t move. You could barely breathe underneath the weight of him, dazed from the manhandling.
Time came to a stop. Hyunjin took in the sight of you and you of him. A strand of hair fell in front of his face. You could hear nothing except your own panting. His hand rose slowly and he reached for you. It looked, almost, like he was going to caress your cheek.
Instead, he grabbed your face, holding you like that. He spoke to you then, his voice low, more a snarl than a sentence. “Stop. Fucking. Tempting. Me.” He gave one powerful thrust, his length buried not into your hole but within your folds as he rubbed himself onto you so hard it made you sink into the soil a little.
Sparks ran under your skin—you were too close to the edge, trapped underneath Hyunjin’s weight. Your eyes rolled back. “Please,” you heard yourself say but your mind was being separated from your body, your consciousness leaving you. “Please,” you said again, fire taking over your insides, your cunt dripping. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Not that he scared you. Not the ache in the places where his hand held you in place. For an instant, you wondered if the imprint of his fingers would remain on the skin of your face.
Hyunjin let out a noise that was something between a growl and a moan. “I know.” His face was flushed and angry and beautiful. He held your face still as he kissed you hungrily, as his rutting became erratic. “Give it to me, just cum, just fucking cum.”
Something sank within you—an ache spread from your lower back to your pussy under the relentless rubbing of Hyunjin’s cock onto your clit. Your hips stuttered as your release finally reached you and you dissolved into pleasure, moaning uncontrollably. You arched onto Hyunjin and he was all over you—biting your neck, your shoulder, the soft flesh of your breasts. His free hand was groping and squeezing you everywhere while the other forced you to look at him while you came.
The flutters of your pussy reached his cock in shockwaves—he throbbed so hard that you felt it, and his expression changed—his fury melted as deep, low moans escaped from his parted mouth, and you did not think he could really see you, not with his eyes glazed over like that. He was murmuring words that you could not make out, and as your aftershocks hit you, he flooded your mons and your inner thighs with his cum, hips bucking as he emptied himself all over you. It was so wet, so lewd, that it prolonged your orgasm almost painfully as you clenched around nothing, your vision blurred.
Hyunjin collapsed onto you, spent, finally letting go of your face. The ghost of his grip remained as your bliss faded. You slid your hands under his unbuttoned shirt, embracing him like that. You gave his temple a little kiss. Then another. His cock was softening, locked between your two bodies, resting on your lower stomach.
Shame took over you. Like ink on paper. Like red wine on white silk.
Lips trembling, you caressed Hyunjin’s thick, soft hair. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice evading you.
He said nothing and it made you want to disappear. You had come to realize that Hyunjin’s silence was far worse than his rage.
“I’m sorry Hyunjin,” you repeated.
He pulled himself off you but his face was turned away so that you could not see him. And you felt so little then, so stupid, laying half-naked on the grass, your cunt sticky with your husband’s cum.
“I’m so—”
When you went to apologize for a third time, he did turn to you then—his expression was solemn and he silenced you with one look. Then he gave you a kiss, a soft one.
“Don’t,” he spoke against your lips before kissing you again. “Please, darling, don’t.”
He reached for one of the handkerchiefs you had put into the basket along with the breakfast. It was one of those you had embroidered with Ha-ri and her daughters, an activity you found a lot of enjoyment—and peace—in. It had little bees on it, with Hyunjin’s name just below.
He used it to wipe his cum off you. You flinched—being caressed by him could never leave you unfazed, not even in this situation. You were still sensitive from his licking, his rubbing, from him. Your handsome lord husband, the only thing you had ever wanted.
The only thing that could make you soar as high as a bird and fall as hard as the coldest downpour. He was much like a storm, with violent winds, with darkening skies, with menacing thunder. Beautiful and intriguing enough that you wholeheartedly ran outside, bare and uncovered, and let the rain drown you one or a hundred times.
He said nothing—he left you there as he rose, buttoning his trousers back up and making his way to the lake so he could rinse out the handkerchief. His hair floated in the breeze and a couple of ducks floated by, their quacks echoing over the water. The pleasure between your legs mutated into something else—you were sore, and the cool weather was affecting you a whole lot more without Hyunjin’s body to warm you up. You brought your knees close to your chest, hugging your legs as you sat there, watching your husband ignore you.
You realized now the mistake you had made—it wasn’t even that you lost control today and said certain things. It was that a few months ago, after the whole ordeal at Lord Jeon’s place, you and Hyunjin hadn’t really talked. Not about this. Never about the specifics of it. He ate your pussy often, and you rubbed or sucked his cock just as often. He’d say things like careful there, it’s going to leak after he spilled himself a little too close to your entrance. But then he’d usually just lick his cum off you, and it normally ended with you having a second or third orgasm, so you weren’t going to complain.
He showed the affection he had for you, not just in bed. He was visibly more comfortable around you. He’d often say that he loved you. He’d make little surprises for you—flowers picked around the property, more thread for your embroidery, or a freshly painted scene he made for you.
He called you darling. Almost all of the time now. Even around others. You still remembered the first time he did so in the daytime with an audience—you were visiting the Bangs, whose property was on the other side of the lake, for Lady Bang’s birthday celebration. It had been a small, intimate affair—unfortunately, Lady Bang’s health issues had been making her life more difficult, but she seemed to enjoy her birthday anyway. Changbin and Ha-ri were there as well as Lord Han and his wife, who was also rather close with the Bangs.
The celebration began outside with light snacks and beverages. You were having tea with the other women while the men were a little farther, standing by the lake and discussing real estate—a topic that bored Hyunjin to death, so you knew he would try to divert it sooner rather than later. You had become accustomed to it—no more than that, you loved it. This little habit of his. When he came to you to help make his current conversation—business or not—more interesting.
Darling, he’d said from across the yard, his voice loud enough that you—and everyone else—heard him. What are those plants that grow by the water on our side of the lake? The ones that smell so good? I’m trying to convince Lord Han that he wants some for his new cottage home.
The fragrant herb grew naturally in a few places on Hwang Estate, its scent made stronger on days where it rained right before the sun warmed up the earth. You remembered warmth spreading on your cheeks as you fumbled with your words—and your needle. Mugwort, my love, you replied, and Hyunjin raised his cup of coffee at you with a smile before turning to the others again. You remembered even more the lightness in your chest and Lady Bang’s knowing smile. Ha-ri’s, too. Not a word had been said about it, except for Lady Bang’s gentle remark, Your husband seems healthy these days, Lady Hwang. It looks like having you around is good for him. You look well, too.
So you knew that what had happened at the Jeons’ place had done something to soften his heart. Except you had thought that it was open. And that it would keep opening over time, like the petals of a flower unfurling slowly under the sun as spring became summer.
But you realized now that instead of opening, his heart had cracked open—just enough to let some of his love trickle out and spill, to allow some of his light to warm you up, but not enough that he would ever be yours. Not in the way you wanted him to be. And it went so far beyond the act of him putting his cock inside your pussy. It was the thought behind it, his will to never, ever do so was a symptom, a manifestation of something that was festering within him. Like one who had the flu would have a fever and a cough—he recoiled if the tip of his cock even grazed your entrance.
Or at the sight of a newborn baby, an event that happened two weeks ago in town when a mother—the wife of a farmer who worked on his lands—approached him to present him her daughter. A beautiful little girl, soundly asleep in her mother’s arms, all pretty and snug in a bundle of blankets. He barely acknowledged the woman before running away, leaving you with her. You had been more than happy to chat with her and to praise the little angel in her arms, but when she asked if you wanted to hold her, you realized that you just couldn’t. You froze in place, finding yourself unable to take the baby in your arms.
Like a manifestation of something festering inside you. A testimony of everything you didn’t have, and never would.
That morning, as the autumn breeze caressed your hair and the places where your skirt did not cover your legs, as you watched your husband soak a cum-stained handkerchief in the lake, you thought of your mother. And of all the ways in which she had warned you.
She had been right all along. Your heart was drawn toward anything that was broken, and the worst part was that you couldn’t help it at all. Out of all the wretched, damaged things you had loved, though, Hyunjin was by far your favorite.
Hyunjin helped you up when he came back. It seemed that his hand lingered on your forearm a little longer than he needed it to, but perhaps it was just your imagination.
He did not say a word, not one word, as you walked back to the manor. He disappeared into his bedroom, locking the door behind him. You knew he would wash up before joining Changbin and others in the parlor, where they would hold a meeting about Hyunjin’s upcoming business trip. In the city.
Some things just never changed. You hated it, still, when he left for that place where he used to be so acquainted with the brothels.
Some things just never changed. You had been a fool for loving him before, and a fool you still were.
That day, Ahnjong came to help you with your bath and your gown but you refused her—you told your maid that you were feeling sick, that your stomach was a little upset, and that you wished to rest for a few more hours. She believed you, mentioning that she had seen the breakfast return completely whole after your walk with Hyunjin.
You did bathe—in water so warm that it burned your skin. Yet it was not enough to cleanse the shame off you.
You only went outside in the afternoon to check on your beehives. With winter approaching, they weren’t very active and no longer produced enough honey for you to harvest it. Instead, you just made sure that everything was clean and in order so that they could keep getting ready for the cold season. You envied them. They could not know it, but their setbacks would be temporary. The snow and the ice would thaw and spring would bring with it new flowers and warmth for them to enjoy. But for you, it seemed, the cold would be everlasting.
When Ha-ri mentioned she was going to visit the town for a few errands, you immediately asked to join her. Just to put some distance between you and Hwang Estate. Between you and Hyunjin. You hadn’t even seen him after returning home and yet you needed to be away.
“My lady,” Ha-ri said, keeping her voice low to make sure that the coachman wouldn’t hear her. “What is troubling you like that?”
You kept your head turned toward the small window, watching the scenery outside. The soft, green grass, the trees and their coloring, the clouds floating in the sky. It was all too beautiful—it did not make sense to be witnessing it when your heart was in such a state of disarray.
Not giving her an answer would be worse. You took a deep breath, and as you did, the feeling of Hyunjin’s rage came back to you. His firm grip. And you, the stupid fool who did not want to escape it, who relished every moment of it.
“It always worries me when our husbands leave for more than a day or two,” you responded. “You know that, Ha-ri.”
She leaned over so she would be a little closer to you, observing you. “Is that really it?”
“Yes.” You nodded, turning to her. She was studying your face carefully, looking for hints that you were hiding something from her. You could only hope that all of your mother’s lessons hadn’t been useless, that you could still make your face tell something other than what was in your heart.
Ha-ri sat back on her bench, crossing her arms over her chest with a frown on her brow. She did not believe you. “Changbin came to see me during a recess. He told me that Lord Hwang was particularly short-tempered today.”
You ran your tongue over your teeth, inhaling as if to give yourself some time to think this all over. Ha-ri was a friend now, a true friend. The kind of friend you never had except for Hyunjin through his letters when you grew up. She knew a lot about the things that went on between you and your husband. She knew enough to properly humiliate both of you if she ever wished, but you knew she’d never do such a thing. You knew you could trust Ha-ri with your secrets. She didn’t even tell them to her husband.
A heavy silence fell between the two of you. Ha-ri was, also, the kind of sister you never had, despite having been brought up in a household with two of them.
You felt tears in your eyes as you were choosing your words. You didn’t even know what to say to her, and yet you couldn’t possibly not tell her. You would go crazy if you didn’t. It seemed like you couldn’t see ahead, like you were stuck in the middle of a field on a foggy day, and you didn't know where to go to reach home.
When Ha-ri caught sight of your tears, she covered her mouth in surprise before handing you a handkerchief. This one was also one that you had decorated with her, and the sight of it was enough to make the tears roll down your cheeks. You hid behind your hands as you wept.
“Oh, my lady…” She put her hand on your thigh, patting you there gently. Lovingly. “You don’t have to tell me—I think I know anyway…” She pushed a strand of hair away from your face and you removed your hands to look at her.
She was right—you didn’t need to tell her, because she knew it was about Hyunjin, and also probably guessed it had something to do with the distance he insisted on keeping between you and him.
So, that afternoon, Ha-ri brought you with her on her errands, making sure to occupy the silences when they went on for too long, talking about this and that. Nothing too interesting and nothing too boring either. She decided, on the spot, that she would be making new dresses for you for the winter and made you choose your fabrics and colors. Ha-ri was a good friend, and you only felt worse for not being comforted by all her efforts. As though you didn’t deserve her—and maybe you didn’t. Maybe you didn’t deserve any of this.
Your mind was too busy with memories from the morning to properly appreciate Ha-ri’s friendly chat as she explained to you her ideas for the dresses she wished to make. In your mind, all that existed was Hyunjin and his fingers sinking into the delicate skin of your face, his weight on your body, keeping you pinned down on the soft soil. His skin hot and feverish and his beautiful face contorted with fear and resentment. And lust. And love.
After the fabrics, Ha-ri informed you that she needed to stop by the Apothecary to replenish her stash of fever cures—she knew that in the winter months, her little girls would surely need some, and let you know that she always hoarded as much as she could during the fall. You made a few purchases yourself, a little distractedly, mostly to reassure Ha-ri. To give the impression that you weren’t in fact hearing in your mind Hyunjin’s feral groans as he aggressively rubbed his cock on your pussy. Like he couldn’t resist it. Like he wanted to be done with it—with you—as quickly as possible.
You thanked the apothecary and followed Ha-ri outside, answering her questions about honey even though both of you were very much aware that she already knew how beneficial honey could be for a sore throat or even a light cough.
She was already seated when you stopped in your tracks, your gaze going blank as you went to climb back into the coach. Suddenly, it was no longer Hyunjin's desperate release you were thinking of, it was Lee Minho.
And a promise you made to him—and your husband—several months ago already.
“I’ll be right back, Ha-ri,” you heard yourself say. You even felt a smile appear on your lips. And you knew it was convincing by the face your friend made when you spoke to her. “I forgot something—some oils, for my hair.”
Of course she believed you and it made you feel like you were the worst person alive, taking advantage of Ha-ri’s good heart.
“My lady,” the apothecary, an older gentleman, said when you reentered his shop. He had just concluded a quick sale with a young man who had been waiting in line after Ha-ri and yourself. “Is there a problem with your purchases?”
You had always been burdened by the thing between your legs, whether it was about the bleeding or the piece of flesh inside you, the one that you so badly wanted to keep whole so that Hyunjin could claim you. You remembered the day you became a woman and the feeling of the blood dripping from you, the smell of it, too. It had been so violent, especially for a child of that age. And yet, you had come to see it as a blessing. Every month, your body reminded you that one day, it would welcome within it Hyunjin’s heir.
But that was before knowing it would never be the case.
“No, no, there isn’t a problem,” you replied, crossing the small room to meet the old man at the counter. “I’ve forgotten something that I’d like to buy, if you have it in your possession, of course.”
This seemed to unsettle the apothecary a little. He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean, my lady?”
You took a deep breath but that did very little to stop your lips from trembling. “Can I trust that our conversation will remain private?” When the man went to respond, you raised a hand, insisting. “Truly private. At any cost,” you added. “You may not tell my lord husband, or the doctor in our employment, or anybody.”
The apothecary’s gaze lingered on you for a few seconds, then he bowed his head low. “Of course, my lady. I am at your service.”
Maybe you trusted him, maybe you didn’t—the truth was that in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because you simply wanted to have a bottle or two of it in your possession just in case. Perhaps it could be some sort of safety net. A hail mary.
It was Sookie who told you about it, many years ago. At the time, it had appeared to you as one of the highest offenses, as one of the worst things a woman could do. But Sookie had insisted that you would understand one day—you just didn't believe her.
But that was before.
You cleared your throat and did your best to look like you weren’t wildly nauseous. “Sir, do you remember the… the tea you sold me, a few months ago?”
The apothecary’s posture changed immediately, and so did his facial expression—he stood straight, looking very solemn, crossing his hands on the counter. “Yes, my lady. I dared not ask, of course, but I noticed you stopped buying it.”
You nodded. “Yes. Of course, I’m sure you understand.”
He nodded, too. “I understand.”
In your chest, your heart fluttered and it felt, for half a second, like you were freefalling. “I’d like to purchase something like it, only stronger, more potent. I was told of such a product by somebody who I trust, who was familiar with it.” Because she used to work in a pleasure house—but you didn’t need to tell him that. A man his age must have seen all kinds of things. “I’m sure you understand,” you said again.
He did not avert his gaze, staring at you in the eyes with a mix of surprise and sadness, which you did your best to ignore. “I understand,” he echoed, his voice a little more faint. “Stronger, you say…”
Some poisons were just strong enough to eradicate a life growing inside a woman’s body without harming her too much. But, according to Sookie, it could destroy her womb if there was nothing to kill inside of it, so one should be absolutely certain to be pregnant before starting the treatment.
You felt tears returning to your eyes but you fought them. “Yes. A bottle, please.”
The man sighed. It took a few seconds before he finally disappeared at the back of his shop. You took this opportunity to wipe the corner of your eyes while he was searching for what he needed.
You wondered if god existed, and if he did, if he would ever grant you forgiveness for what you were doing.
All that you had ever wanted was to be a good wife to Hyunjin. All your life you had waited for it, for the day you would marry him and then for the wedding night that would follow.
And now it just felt all like a big failure. You understood him and his wishes and his fears, yet it did not stop you from wanting to be his wife, really his wife, without him being ashamed or afraid.
It was all that you had ever been allowed to be—Hyunjin’s betrothed. You owed it to him and to yourself to try and make this marriage whole.
The apothecary returned, putting a small bottle made of dark glass on the counter. “A woman should take a few capsules as soon as she notices her monthly bleeds are late,” he said in a low voice, barely audible even in the quietness of the shop. “She should take a few more a day or so later while she is still bleeding. To… ensure the job is finished.”
You took the small vial and stored it safely in your bag, exchanging it for a generous amount of gold coins. But the man did not touch them, he only stared at them.
“I would prefer if you did not pay me for this, my lady.” He pushed the gold back toward you. “I do not hold judgment—I do not need to know the reasoning, but I won’t accept payment, not for this. I simply can’t.”
His words were just like blades, each of them sinking into your chest deep enough to draw blood. You collected the coins with shaky hands and left the store without a word.
The days were shorter now—the sun disappeared faster than you expected it to. It seemed like you saw less and less of it, noticeably so, every day. You went for a walk around the estate after your errands with Ha-ri, letting it drag much longer than you needed to, more than you should. It just felt good to be alone with the exception, occasionally, of a small forest animal.
At dusk, you came across a squirrel who looked a lot like Henry, except this one had a tail. The bottle was tucked in the inner pockets of your jacket and it felt as though it weighed a ton. You remembered Henry and how he had simply stopped visiting you one day. Lillie had told you he might have found a partner but you just knew he was dead.
It didn’t matter that it was dark outside—no matter where you went, the lights inside Hwang Manor shone bright enough for you to see in the distance. All you had to do was walk towards them and hope not to put your feet in the wrong place. Only, maybe it was exactly what you wanted. Maybe you didn’t mind slipping and falling into a creek and hitting your head. Maybe you didn’t mind tumbling into the lake and being swallowed by it, only to never be seen again.
You used to believe that nothing could be as painful as that, as difficult as that. To be Hyunjin’s wife and not knowing whether he loved you or not. How foolish of you.
This was much worse. Knowing that his heart, indeed, beat for you, and yet he kept a reasonable distance between you two. On purpose. According to his wishes. You had done nothing to soothe his wounds, because, in fact, you had made them worse, like rubbing salt onto them instead of kissing them softly. Because you were a stupid little girl, and your mother’s relentless teaching had done nothing to prepare you for this. It had done nothing to make you enough for him, for Hyunjin.
After all, he wasn’t just a lord. He was Lord Hwang, but he was intelligent—very, very intelligent. He knew much about the world and about literature, or art. He took good care of the business he oversaw. He had refined tastes—he liked beautiful things, complicated things. Things like him. An intricate meal, a detailed painting, an interesting conversation. He liked silk sheets and lavish wine. He liked unusual books.
And you…
He loved you. But you were too simple, too uncomplicated to permeate him the way he did for you. To hold any weight where it mattered.
He loved you.
But marrying you had not been an option. He had not chosen you.
You heard them calling out for you sometime after sunset. You quickly made your way back as you did not wish to draw any attention to you. It was Seonghwa who welcomed you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. “My lady,” he said with concern in his eyes. “Supper will be served shortly, I… Are you alright?”
You hadn’t cried—the sorrow you felt was too deep for that. The tears would take longer to make an appearance. You felt like a beehive in the winter. Alive somewhere inside, but sluggish, inactive. You wondered what exactly Seonghwa was seeing in you to inquire about your well-being. You wondered if the shadows haunting you had begun spilling from your eyes, or perhaps your lips. They, for sure, had spilled from your heart, hurting Hyunjin in the process.
“I’m alright. Don’t let them wait on my behalf, Seonghwa. Have the chef serve dinner whenever he wishes and I’ll join as soon as I can.”
You let Ahnjong take you to your bedroom so she could brush out your hair for dinner. You remembered, then, that the Bangs were visiting tonight. It happened often and those dinners were usually rather spontaneous. Normally, you were delighted.
She brushed out your hair and put it in a braid and you felt nothing. Your mind was elsewhere. “My lady,” the young maid mentioned, “there’s mud on your gown.” And there was. You let her undress you, removing all the layers that had been soiled by the damp autumn soil. You let her choose your new gown and she went for the deep red one. “His lordship’s favorite,” as she pointed out.
When she wasn’t looking, you took the small glass bottle from your jacket and hid it underneath your pillows. Your hands were still shaking and you realized it was because you didn’t want to face Hyunjin again. You didn’t want to see the bitterness in his eyes, didn’t want to feel his resentment behind the facade that he would surely put up.
You stared into your mirror, taking in the sight of you. Your parents were wealthy but you had never owned beautiful clothes such as this gown before you came here. You hadn’t been allowed that—for soirées, your mother would borrow a gown from someone else. She didn’t want you turning ungrateful, she said. She wanted to remind you of what you were worth. You could see it now—all of it. In a way you never had. You could be wearing the queen’s dress but it wouldn’t make a difference. It wouldn’t change you as a person, wouldn’t add to your value. It wouldn’t complicate you.
Not once before had it occurred to you, not in a way that reached you so deep within your bones. That you weren’tHyunjin’s choice. You were his father’s choice—or rather, a way for him to settle the matter quickly. After all, when he and your father made the arrangement, he was already engaged in his extra-marital affairs. Perhaps he knew that it would end badly. Perhaps he could sense that he was risking a lot and that his family was likely to lose its reputation sooner rather than later, so he just took the first offer he got. And you were that. The first offer, or the more convenient one.
It had never occurred to you before because you had never, not once, felt like Hyunjin would have wanted it any other way. Until now, it had simply felt like fate had brought the two of you together. Maybe, in some vain, arrogant way, you had believed that he would have picked you if given a choice.
But he had not chosen you.
Dinner was already ongoing when you descended the stairs. You heard your guests first. Maybe Hyunjin had decided not to attend. Maybe he didn’t want to see you. Maybe—
“We shouldn’t be gone for more than three or four days,” you heard him say in the dining room. “I’m thinking, after we’re back, we should go on a hunting trip. The three of us.”
Your heart dropped. At least now you knew he was at dinner, so he wasn’t completely disgusted with the idea of eating at the same table as you.
But he wasn’t even gone yet and he was planning to leave again once he returned.
“What an excellent idea!” Lord Christopher exclaimed, after which you heard a thump, as though someone had punched the table.
“What, me too?” Ah, so Changbin was there as well. Which meant…
“My lord, are you planning on stealing my husband away from me?” Ha-ri asked playfully. Only you knew she sort of meant it. And you knew, maybe, that she thought having Hyunjin close would comfort you.
“Of course not,” Hyunjin responded, and you heard wine or liquor in his voice. “It’ll be just a few days.”
“Maybe I could meet with you in the city the day after tomorrow,” Lord Chris offered. “The land on the West has quite a lot of deer, or so I heard. Should we ask Lord Jeon to come along, too?”
A short silence followed. By then you had made it to the dining room but waited behind the door before you entered.
“Maybe we could,” Hyunjin said in the end. “I know he’s rather busy, but asking would, at the very least, be polite.”
You chose this moment to make your entrance, hoping that the conversation between the men would be engrossing enough that you wouldn’t be noticed. However, naturally, every head in the room turned to you, all five of them, and also the maid who was pouring wine into everyone’s glass.
“Oh no, stay seated,” you told them when they went to stand for you. You walked around the room—they had given you a chair next to Hyunjin’s. Of course they would—the housekeepers didn’t know any better. A million thoughts were going through your mind and yet you somehow managed to remain composed, even trying to smile. “It’s lovely to have supper with such friendly guests. Please excuse my tardiness.”
“Oh no, the pleasure is ours, my lady.” Lady Bang was glowing tonight with her hair held at the back of her head and a stunning periwinkle gown. “I was afraid you were ill.”
You went towards your seat as you tried to come up with a believable lie, something that would be neutral, something that would not hint at anything. You knew the maids were listening, and even though they had no bad intentions, it seemed that they liked to analyze everything that was said between you and other guests of the manor. If you lied about where you had been, they would know, and it meant everybody would know you were hiding something.
But how could you make them understand that it wasn’t a tangible thing that you were hiding? Not an affair or criminal activity. It was your sorrow that you wanted to keep secret. Because you didn’t want anybody to know. And above all, you didn’t want Hyunjin to know that you were gloomy. It would only make things worse.
As you reached for your chair, Hyunjin pushed himself up rather abruptly, and for an instant, you believed he would leave dinner and your heart skipped a few beats. Instead he pulled your chair for you, dipping his head. “My lady.” He did not look at you when he spoke, but you sat down anyway, doing your best to keep your breathing steady. But the truth was that your head was much like an apiary in the summer—buzzing and lively, with every part of it sparking and working.
You wanted to cry. You wanted to sit down with Hyunjin and talk to him calmly. You wanted to slap him in the face maybe. You wanted to tell him that you loved him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to watch him paint. You wanted to have a nice dinner with your friends and get drunk on wine and you wanted your heart to be lighter than the petals of a rose. You wanted to cry. You really wanted to cry. You wanted to ask Lady Bang and Ha-ri to follow you to your bedroom so that you could tell them everything.
Yes. Yes, that was it.
The burden had become too heavy and now it felt as though you were suffocating. As though you were drowning in it.
You were given a glass with wine in it as well as a bowl of soup. The others were halfway through theirs—you tasted it, partially to warm yourself up and mostly to delay the moment you’d have to talk. Nobody had said anything after you sat down—but it was obvious that Lady Bang was still expecting a response.
“I went for an evening walk and lost track of time,” you told her. “I always get a little confused at this time of the year. The days are getting so short.”
“You shouldn’t go alone,” Lord Christopher said with a frown. “Especially at this time of the year—the wild animals are looking to feed in ample amounts to prepare for the winter.”
You took a large sip of wine—it was good, sweet but still strong and tangy. “Oh, I doubt I would become anything’s dinner, my lord.”
“I must insist. There have been sightings of wolves in the mountains nearby. I would hate it if anything happened to you, my lady.”
You almost choked on your wine but it went largely unnoticed when Changbin echoed Lord Christopher’s advice and the attention was all turned to him. You managed to swallow the wine and ate some soup to soothe your throat, but now your mind was tainted with Christopher’s words. He was right—something could happen to you out there. Anything. You could come face to face with a bear or a wolf or a hunter could mistake you for the game he'd been tailing for a day. You could slip and fall and crack your skull open on a rock.
You felt it all happening—you became aware of the danger and you waited for the moment you would be afraid, only, it never came. Instead you were invaded with the urge to return out there and walk blindly into the forest, waiting for it to decide your fate. Maybe it would be a relief for Hyunjin—maybe he would get to choose who sat next to him for supper and who woke up in his bed in the morning.
“Thank you for your concern,” you told Lord Christopher, hoping he wouldn’t notice how weak your voice was. “I’ll keep that in mind should I want to be out again after dark.”
Ha-ri went to say something but she was interrupted by the loud knock it made when Hyunjin put his empty wine glass back on the table—a lot harder than he needed to.
“No. You will not anymore. Never again.” He spoke at low volume but he enunciated every word very clearly, making himself heard. His voice was coated with quiet rage, turning your stomach to lead. He did not look your way but he went on. “You will not venture away from the manor after dusk. Never again. It isn’t safe. There’s nothing to gain from it. And if you must do it in the daylight, you will do so in the company of someone else. Is that clear?”
The silence that filled the room following Hyunjin’s statement—or rather, command—was so heavy that you could almost feel it permeate your lungs as you breathed in. You dared not look away from your bowl of soup, wondering what you ought to do next. That had never happened before, not like that at least. Hyunjin had never been the kind of husband to exert his manly rights—quite the contrary, in fact. You could tell he always tried to be anything but whatever his father had been like.
You did raise your head then, at the same time as Hyunjin did—the guests were very interested in their own soup all of a sudden—and you saw them. In his eyes. You saw those demons you had always heard about, those you had been warned against most of your life. You had never been frightened of Hyunjin until today. Until this morning, when he lost himself. Until now, when he didn’t look like himself.
And yet you could not look away. And yet you could not love him less.
You stared into them, into his eyes, searching for the ones you had come to know. The ones that were like molasses on a slice of pound cake. They were still somewhere in there, weren’t they?
Hyunjin tried so very hard not to be like his father. As for you?
You—you were the result of years of coaching from your mother. She had taught you all about that—what to do when your husband would give you a command, whether it was to get him a glass of liquor, to help him change his clothes, or to get on your knees so he could have his way with you. Your mother might have forced these thoughts into your mind, but she was far from being the submissive wife she had tried to fashion you into. Tonight, if she were you, she would have snapped at Hyunjin for his comment, in front of their guests. Things would have escalated later. You used to hide your head under your pillows so as not to hear your parents yell at each other. And other things.
You tried so very hard not to be like your mother, too.
You took one deep breath, then another. You reached for Hyunjin—he recoiled at first, a faint scowl adorning his brow, but you simply took his hand in yours and squeezed it gently.
“Of course, my love.” You gulped, but the knot in your throat remained. “You’re right. It was reckless. I shall be more cautious in the future.”
He stared down at the hand you were holding as though he couldn’t believe what you were saying. You figured the moment might have lasted a thousand years if it weren’t for the maids who came to swap the bowls of soup for dinner plates, which were filled with a roast that looked and smelled fantastic.
Lord Christopher commented on it, echoed by Changbin, and dinner went on. It went on around you but you took no part in it, simply responding to questions when you were talked to and smiling when someone said something humorous.
They spoke about politics. Lady Bang inquired about Ha-ri’s dressmaking. Changbin asked Christopher about the renovations that were taking place on their estate. Lord Christopher asked if you had any plans to go and visit your family back home sometime soon and you made up some lie about it.
Ha-ri suggested that everyone went outside before dessert—just to get some fresh air. You followed her as she took your hand and invited Lady Bang to come with while the men could go wherever they wanted. But really you knew she just wanted to get you away from Hyunjin.
Only you didn’t really. He was angry at you—more than he had ever been. And you were his wife and you were supposed to make things right.
Ha-ri led you and Lady Bang to her sewing room, where she opened the door of the balcony to let in the night air. You stood there for a moment while she was showing Lady Bang her new fabrics for the winter, but your mind was wandering elsewhere. Your thoughts had been sent a few days from now, when your husband would be in the city. He was so angry at you that he might just go see if any brothel had something to offer. Perhaps he would fuck once or twice until he was pacified, and then return to you.
He did choose them. Those women. He asked for them and was given some time and pleasure with them in exchange for money. But you? He never asked for you and he got nothing in exchange. Nothing at all.
You thought nothing could make your night worse—and then two maids entered the sewing room with a teapot and cups. “Mr. Seonghwa sends us,” one of them, Salma, said. “He said the ladies might want a warm drink.”
You watched as the two young women prepared the tray and the tea, your mind far away from this room. You were listening more to whatever was outside than what was occurring here, searching for Hyunjin’s distant voice in the night, wondering what he, Christopher, and Changbin might be talking about. You would not be so bold as to suggest he would ever talk about you with them, but, selfishly, you wanted to hear some kind of sorrow in his voice—the same that inhabited you. Or maybe you had it all wrong. Maybe that anguish, that desolation, didn’t live within either of you—perhaps it was the other way around. Maybe, instead, it embraced you, contained you, like a cursed sanctuary. Maybe it had become your home, one that you weren’t sure you would ever escape.
You thought nothing could make your night worse—and then, when the maids were done setting up the small table for tea, they glanced at each other with knowing smiles and pink cheeks.
“My lady,” the other one, Emi, told Lady Bang, dipping her head very low. “Pardon the intrusion, I—” She took a deep breath, as though whatever she was about to say was terrible.
Inquisitive, you took a few steps towards the scene.
“We were simply wondering if what they say about you is true, my lady,” Salma added, also dropping her head, her cheeks darkening. “It would be such wonderful news.”
You instantly knew what this was all about when you saw Lady Bang react to the question by instinctively pressing a hand on her stomach.
A few seconds passed, during which Ha-ri stared at you, and only at you. Slowly, Lady Bang turned to you with a complicated expression on her face, making you wonder how much she knew. How much she had guessed. And that made you wonder how obvious it all was.
It made you wonder what the maids were saying about you.
It made you wonder if they could hear your heart shattering in your chest.
“Well,” you made yourself say, knowing very well you weren’t fooling anybody but pushing through regardless. Let them talk. The maids and the stewards and the apothecary and everyone else. Let them say whatever the fuck they wanted. “Is it true or not, my friend?”
She hesitated, biting her lip, but not moving her hand from her stomach. “Yes, it is. I found out last month, but I wasn’t sure it would hold so I didn’t—”
You raised your hand. It made you wonder if they noticed how badly it was trembling. “There’s no need to explain yourself, my lady. What lovely news! Congratulations!”
It was her, Lady Bang, who pulled you into an embrace, not the other way around. You vaguely heard Ha-ri dismiss the two maids, doing so politely but firmly as your friend held you against her. Despite the numerous layers of fabric both of you were wearing, it seemed, almost, like you could feel it. It radiated from her, from her belly. The life that she bore. The miracle, the blessing she carried inside of it. You allowed yourself to cry, figuring at first that it may look as though they were tears of joy. And really, they were. But there was so much more to it.
“I didn’t want you to hear about it like that,” she whispered into your ear. “I’m so sorry.”
You didn’t respond, prolonging the hug more than you needed to.
And then you saw everything so clearly it was like looking through a window. You understood everything. When they told you who you would marry and when, and how, and why. When they decided for you. You understood why your mother had tried to put an end to the betrothal, why she had been so adamant that you should marry somebody else.
You understood why she had warned you against broken things. It was not because she hated you, not because she resented you or despised you. It was because she was protecting you. Out of love. The way a mother only could love, which is to say, violently. Had she known? She couldn’t possibly have known, at that time, the exact details of it all, but she must have guessed that one day you would find yourself in such a challenging situation. She didn’t want you to get attached to Henry because he was a tiny squirrel, smaller and weaker than the others, and he was likely to become a hawk’s dinner or freeze to death much sooner than you expected.
She didn’t want you to get attached to Hyunjin because she knew that once a woman had opened her heart to a man, he held the power to destroy her.
You understood everything. You understood why you were so ashamed of it—that Hyunjin refused so categorically to ever, ever fuck you. You understood why it hurt you so much, why that shame lingered, why and how it had stained you. Like ink on paper. Like red wine on white silk.
Because your mother had not seen that coming. And she had promised you that when a lady made sure her garden remained unsullied, it would be the one thing her lord husband would without a doubt love about her, that he would desire it, that he would vulgarize it to his heart's content. She had made it seem as though there was no way this would ever fail. That if you were still pure on your wedding day, your husband would plant his seed in your garden, and there was no other option. She had made you feel as though it was the worst of offenses when a man wanted nothing to do with his wife’s garden.
She had made you feel as though you would fail, as a woman and as a wife, should you not be touched by your husband.
And even if you understood Hyunjin’s struggles, his fears, his complicated feelings towards his father and even fatherhood itself—you couldn’t undo the lectures that had been given to you, that had been carved onto your mind. They had become a part of you, intrinsically so. If you could, you would cut your skull open and pick them from your brain to discard them, but it would mean losing pieces of yourself. And you were okay with that. If, somehow, you could turn into a blank canvas, if you could be unmade, you would let Hyunjin fashion you into a wife that would be enough for him. That would be enough to heal his wounds instead of making them worse.
You thought of the old beekeeper, Mr. Ito, and of the day he showed you how to make sure honey was pure. He said that if one day, you were no longer able to produce your own, you should at least know how to procure the real thing.
“If honey is pure,” he had said, using a match to light a candle, “it will burn.” And he had shown you all the steps—wrapping cotton around a stick and coating it in honey before dipping it into the flame. You remembered the scent of it, sweet, sweet, sweet, and the way the honey, pure and unadulterated, caught on fire.
You wanted to run back home. It was not possible but you wished for it anyway—you wanted to see the villa from afar and run barefoot on the grass again. You wanted Henry to be still alive. You wanted Mr. Ito to be still alive. Even just for an instant, you wanted to be more like that little girl again, the one who held hope in her heart, the one who wasn’t afraid to burn.
“You ladies enjoy your tea,” you murmured, pulling away before anyone could see your tears. “I will go see how dessert is coming along.”
Neither Ha-ri or Lady Bang tried to stop you even though you weren’t particularly convincing. You walked away, ignoring the staircase as you passed it—you had no intention of checking on dessert or on anything. Hell, you weren’t even sure what you were doing at all until you made it to your bedroom and caught sight of your bed. You barely took the time to close the door behind you, crossing the room until you were sitting atop your soft mattress, feeling the linen and silk sheets laid on it. All white. Oh, how badly you wanted to stain them red.
You reached under your pillow, finding the small bottle obtained from the apothecary earlier. The label only had a skull and crossbones on it and, underneath in a thin font, Diachylon.
What had he said? The apothecary? That you should take it after noticing a pregnancy. He couldn’t have known, of course, that you had an entirely different objective in mind.
You wanted to be more than this.
You wanted the state of your garden to be anything but a problem. All this time, all your life—it all had been about this, hadn’t it? So much had been forbidden—running, ice skating, horse riding. Freedom. All this time you had believed, subconsciously or not, that your fucking garden should remain unsullied. That Hyunjin would be a happy husband as long as you managed to offer yourself to him in the purest form you could. That he would be displeased should your garden be anything but immaculate.
There was one thing you hadn’t even considered, though.
What if you didn’t have a garden at all?
What if you set fire to it? Would it burn? If it was pure, would it burn?
With trembling hands, you pushed the lid open, looking at the contents of the bottle. It was difficult to make out in the dark lighting of your room, but it was half-full with capsules. You held one between your thumb and your index, inspecting it. It seemed to be dark in color and had a thick consistency, just like honey. A strong, unpleasant scent invaded your nostrils when you breathed in—this had nothing to do with the little teas you brewed yourself a few months ago. This had the power to make a barren, lifeless place out of your womb. You brought the capsule to your lips after pouring yourself a glass of water from the pitcher on your nightstand.
Knock knock knock. “Darling? Darling, are you in there?”
You stopped breathing, motionless, your heart picking up a pace.
He couldn’t know. He couldn’t ever find out about what you were doing. You knew it would destroy him. You knew that on some days, he wasn’t much more than a castle without bricks, a tree without leaves, a canvas without paint. And today was one of those days.
It took exactly three seconds for you to bury the bottle under your pillow. You would remove it sometime later when it would be safe, after you had ingested the pills. When you would be absolutely certain that nobody would ever find out. You would never tell anybody. They would presume. Hyunjin would, Dr. Lee, even Ha-ri. But you would die before admitting the truth to anybody. You wouldn’t even tell Cloud. You wouldn’t even tell the bees. You wouldn’t even tell the wind about what you had done.
“Darling?” Hyunjin said again, his voice lower now. “Can I come in?”
You stood, figuring that not responding would only make things worse, but before you could cross the room, he let himself in—you hadn’t locked the door, apparently. Just two seconds later and he would have caught you shoving capsules of poison down your throat.
It took your breath away. You wondered if you would ever not be moved by him, by his presence, his existence. He stood there, his back on the closed door behind him, staring at you with his eyes like ink on paper, his lips parted, plush and raw from whiskey, like red wine on white silk.
“Yes.” The words spilled from you without you having any control over them—like one part of your brain was constantly on edge, ready to make you Lady Hwang at a moment’s notice. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to make our guests wait, I just—”
Whatever excuse you were going to make up, he didn’t let you say it out loud. He pushed himself off the wall, darting towards you—for an instant, it looked a little like he was going to attack, to pounce like a tiger. You had seen a tiger only once in your life but it was quite memorable. It might have been domesticated but it was still the largest cat you had ever seen. You wouldn’t forget the look in its eyes as it descended to devour the carcass the circus workers had left for him. A beautiful beast, too thin, locked in a cage.
Hyunjin had the same look in his eyes tonight. What a beautiful beast he was, too, only his prison did not have bars.
He did not lash out—when he stood just a few inches away from you, he stared down at you, cupping your cheek in his big hand. “Darling,” he whispered. His breath smelled like whiskey and like wine. His hair smelled like the outside air. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
It was not the first time it happened. The last time, he had gotten angry because you had drunkenly made a risqué comment during dinner. Even if it was an intimate dinner with people from the estate—Changbin, Ha-ri, Dr. Lee, Seonghwa, and Su-jin. It was always the same thing. You keep tempting me, he had said. And then he kissed you hard but you kissed him harder and he ate your pussy all night.
“Don’t be sorry,” you murmured, caressing his perfect face. “It’s okay. Do you want to lie down?” He was very drunk—he was holding on to you as though he was afraid to collapse.
“No, I want—I want—” but he couldn’t say it. Whatever he had in mind remained there as he frowned, his gaze not once moving away from your lips. “I want to stop being like that,” he uttered finally.
You wanted to tell him that it would be alright soon.
But he kissed you.
He pressed his lips onto yours, taking your mouth in his, claiming you once again. You kissed him back as his hands descended on your waist so he could pull you closer. He buried his face into your neck, biting you gently, suckling on your skin. He gently led you towards your bed, his lips not once leaving your skin, his tongue like flames licking at you.
He’s too drunk, you told yourself as he lifted you just enough so he could sit you down on your mattress. But it felt too good. And you loved him too much.
“Don’t let me talk to you like that again, darling,” Hyunjin said as he followed you onto the bed, on his hands and knees above you. He kissed you again, his hands scrambling to lift up your skirt. “Please. Promise me you won’t let me ever again.”
Your mind was all over the place, so much so that you didn’t know what he was referring to. After the breakfast fiasco, he had barely acknowledged your presence.
“You were right though, I shouldn’t have stayed out after dark,” you pointed out, taking his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eyes.
His had tears in them. And it broke your heart.
“My love.” Your throat was shutting itself tight but you fought it. “You can be mad at me, it’s alright. This is what a marriage is like.” And you meant it.
Hyunjin froze in place, one hand squeezing your thigh, the other somewhere near your head. “Mad at you?” He frowned deeply, staring at you like it was the first time he ever saw you. “Mad at YOU?”
You felt even more foolish then, your pussy already wet just from a few kisses and even fewer touches, realizing that you had misunderstood him.
“None of that anger, or hatred, is directed at you,” Hyunjin managed slowly. “I love you. My beekeeper wife. I love you. I love you. I love you—” And then he was back on your lips, his tongue gliding in between yours.
How could you tell him? How could you tell him that he was his own worst enemy, that he was the only thing keeping himself on a leash?
“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that tonight, but that's not all. This morning too.” He spoke to you between kisses, feeling the damp linen over your cunt with his fingertips. “I shouldn’t have… touched you like that. It’s wrong.”
And yet you clenched around nothing remembering the way it had felt when he pinned you down, when you had been trapped underneath him. When he held you in place, his grip unforgivable and strong. It would have been factually wrong to say you hadn’t been frightened at all. And yet you feared nothing from Hyunjin—you trusted him with your life.
“I liked it,” you breathed, losing yourself in him already.
“It’s wrong. Baby, it’s wrong,” he insisted, his voice somewhere between a moan and a grunt. “Don’t ever let me do this to you again. Hit me if you must.”
You moaned too when he rubbed your folds through your underskirt in slow, lazy circles. You reached for his trousers, attempting to undo the button. Hitting him? No. Taking his cock in your mouth and letting him fuck your throat? Yes.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned when you squeezed him through his pants.
Here’s what would happen—you would have drunken sex during which Hyunjin would open his heart to you, during which he would pleasure you, shatter you, devour you. He would finish in your mouth and you would welcome the sting at your throat and your sore jaw because they felt just like kisses. It wouldn’t be the first time such an event occurred. Tomorrow, you would talk it out. And progress would or wouldn’t be made.
Or so you thought, until Hyunjin stretched his arm a little to pull your pillow closer, perhaps to lay it under your head. He stopped everything, motionless, and you could only watch in horror as he pulled the vial from where you had hastily hidden it. He looked at the label and then he looked at you. You remembered the morning of your thirteenth birthday—the day you became a woman. Waking up in a puddle of your own blood, afraid, ashamed as though you had done something terribly wrong.
Hyunjin pulled away, standing next to the bed, still gaping at the bottle he was holding, his tented pants unbuttoned.
One thing about Hyunjin though was that he kept his promises. He had hated speaking harshly at you that morning so, tonight, he did the opposite.
“Darling,” he said in a strangled voice, softer than you ever expected. “Wh—” He lost his words again and you sat down on your bed, shaking. “I forbade you.” The look of betrayal on his face was, perhaps, the worst thing ever inflicted on you, worse than any insult your mother might have hurled at you. It would have hurt less if Hyunjin had hit you in the face.
“Please,” you began, but you were in a panic, dizzy and tired and drunk and scared, and it seemed like you had lost all ability to speak. “Hyunjin—”
Not once did he raise his voice. “Come.” He grabbed at your arm and did so in an exceptionally delicate manner. It would not have been different if you two were walking in a wildflower field on a sunny day. “Here, darling. Did you take these just now?”
Before you could give him an answer, he dragged you to the lavatory, making you stand right in front of the sink. The mirror showed you a bleak reflection. You could barely recognize yourself.
“Throw them up. Now. Please.”
“Hyunjin, I—”
He pressed his hand at the back of your head, forcing you to lean over the sink, but not really forcing you. He would have done the same motion should he have wanted to show you a beautiful flower on the ground. “Do you want me to do it for you?” he asked calmly, bringing his fingers near your lips. “It’s okay baby, it’ll be over in a second.” Before you knew it, his fingers were in your mouth, reaching for your throat to stimulate your gag reflex. And he knew exactly how to do so—he was very intimate with the aforementioned gag reflex.
He was so gentle with it that you weren’t sure what brought the tears to your eyes exactly—maybe it was his distress, or the pussy-laced fingers invading your mouth. Or maybe it was shame and regret.
In one swift motion, you grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist to pull him away, freeing your throat. You coughed, choking on your own spit.
“Darling,” Hyunjin began, and you raised your hand to quiet him while you caught your breath.
You wiped the tears at the corner of your eyes, but one glance at the mirror revealed the mess that you had become. “I didn’t take it. I’m fine.”
“You didn’t take it,” he repeated slowly, almost like he didn’t understand. “You didn’t take the medication. Are you lying to me?”
“No. I didn’t.” You left the washroom, returning to your bedroom before he could get ahold of the capsules. While Hyunjin stood there, you quickly closed the lid on the bottle and set it on the small table by the window.
You noticed the droplets of water sticking to the glass. As though they were beckoning you, you made your way to the door leading to your balcony. The rain was light but cold, the sort of rain that was almost snow but not quite. Everything was dark, so dark that you could not make out the mountains on the horizon.
Hyunjin joined you in the cold, his eyes darker than the rainy night.
You wished, almost, that he would scream, that he would be enraged. You wished, almost, that he reacted violently. But instead, he held you. Close. He pressed your head on his chest and held you there, caressing your hair, rocking you ever so slightly in a comforting motion. You couldn’t tell whether he was trying to comfort you or himself.
“Darling,” he whispered, his voice blending with the rain in the exact same way he blended a deep red with true black on a canvas. “I would kill any man or woman who laid a single finger on you. I almost did so once and I would and will do it again if I ever need to.” He held you tighter. He was warm, feverish, and his heartbeat was irregular. “In this case, I’m the one who’s hurting you. So tell me, darling. Tell me what I’m supposed to do.”
You wanted to tell him that he wasn’t hurting you but it would have been a lie. As reluctant as you were to admit it. You had never admitted it to yourself before. You swallowed a sob, wrapping your arms around your husband, holding onto him.
He pulled away so he could look you in the eyes, holding your face in his hands. His pretty traits were twisted in anguish. You watched as a raindrop rolled from his temple, where his wet hair stuck to his skin, down to his jaw. He waited patiently until you were strong enough to look him in the eyes, too.
He caressed your lips with his thumb—he didn’t seem drunk anymore, as though the shock had sobered him up.
“Darling,” he said nonetheless. “I’m begging you. I’m begging you. I’m nothing without you. Nothing, do you hear me? Your absence would cause my demise, in one way or another. And yet I do not want to die. I want to be alive. With you. I want to hear your laughter, I want to wake up by your side. I want to taste your honey. I want to paint you, and travel with you, and—” He paused, overwhelmed, while your heart swelled with love and something even deeper than that, something that didn’t even have a name. “I’m sorry I’m not enough. I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want. But please, don’t—”
You put your hands over his—he was trembling. He was digging a hole in your chest.
“I’m sorry I did that this morning. I’m sorry I got angry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You had never seen him like that. He was broken.
“I told you I liked—”
But he didn’t let you finish your sentence. He shook his head and a few more droplets of rain rolled down his cheeks. “You don’t know what was on my mind. Terrible things. Disgusting things. I almost…” His gaze became unfocused as he replayed the scene in his mind. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. “It won’t happen again. I won’t let it. I won’t hurt you, I won’t—”
“Hyunjin.” You thought about all of the colors in your heart, about all of the words in your mind, about all of the sorrow in your veins. You wanted—no, you needed—him to understand. “All my life, they told me I needed to do this and that and be this and that and not to do this or that. And not to say this, but to say that. And I know that your childhood was awful, a lot worse than mine, but you will never understand what it is to have been born a woman.”
That seemed to unsettle him and to ground him at once. He straightened up a little, looking at you inquisitively, listening as the rain kept on pouring on the both of you.
“Every day, from the age of six or seven years old,” you went on, “I was reminded of how important it all was. I was told that if I did well—if I was intelligent enough, pretty enough, if I took care of my hair, of my body, of my—” You gulped, finding it harder to breathe. “Of my garden, I would become worthy of bearing your heirs. Hyunjin, it’s the only thing that was allowed to define me. My entire life. The beekeeping was just a distraction from that reality. I was made to be the mother of your children more than I was made to be your wife. I don’t know what I am without that. I’m nothing if I’m not that. And yet I understand you, and I respect your wish to never have children. I love you, Hyunjin. I just wanted… I think I just wanted to get rid of that burden. I told myself it was to relieve you of it, but really, it was for me. I wanted to be something more.”
Slowly, Hyunjin lowered his face just millimeters away from yours, ghosting your lips with his, his hot breath spreading on your skin like ink on paper, like red wine on white silk. His forehead pushed onto yours gently.
“My pretty, pretty wife.” He kissed you—a deep, languid kiss, his tongue caressing yours, his fingers closing into fists in your hair. “Can’t you see? Can’t you see what I see in you?”
Another kiss followed—this time, however, he pulled you with him until his back hit the wall behind him. It rained a little less here, close to the manor, but a shiver went down your spine anyway.
“It was never about what I want or don’t want,” he continued, his lips caressing yours with every word. “I do want it too. More than you would ever expect. I want to fuck a baby into you. I want to make love to you and I want to see your belly swell with the life that I put inside it. I want to hold the baby we made together and kiss its little baby forehead. And then, when it’s big enough, I want to fuck another into you. And another. I want to love them the way my father never loved me. I want to love you, and them, forever. It’s not about what I want or not. I want it. I just cannot, in good conscience, let it become reality. My blood is tainted. The fairy tale would turn into a nightmare, and I would hurt you, and our family.”
Traumatized. Your husband was traumatized.
And maybe, probably, so were you.
You buried your face in the crook of his neck, where the scent of his cologne was stronger. He held you in his arms for what might have been a minute, or perhaps an hour. He only moved when he noticed your body trembling not from emotion, but from the cold—he took your hand then, leading you back inside.
“I’ll go ask for a bath for you.” He kissed the top of your head. “You need to warm up. I’ll make sure our guests are comfortable for the night, too.”
You didn’t let go of his hand when he took a step away—he turned to you, head tilted to the side. “I want to have my bath here.” You took a deep breath. “And come back to me. Don’t lock yourself in your room.”
“I’ll come back.” Normally, on the evenings before he left for a business trip, Hyunjin went to bed early, often in a room separate from yours since he didn’t want to wake you up in the morning.
“Okay.” You touched him, his toned chest, letting your fingers linger on the buttons of his shirt. He left the room and you almost collapsed, barely making it to your bed.
You lay down. You just lay down, your eyes fixated on the ceiling above. You were still there when the two maids came in—it was Salma and Emi. You remembered that Anhjong was off duty until tomorrow morning.
“Lady Hwang,” they said in unison, dropping their heads. Salma was holding Cloud in her arms. As soon as she saw you, the cat jumped on the ground so she could join you in bed. “His lordship said you were to have a bath,” Emi added.
You gave them a simple hm hm, caressing Cloud’s soft fur as the almost fully-grown cat rolled into a ball next to you, her purrs echoing in the quiet room. You closed your eyes, trying to breathe at the same slow pace as her.
“Should we add anything to the water, my lady?”
“Just some jasmine oil, Salma. Thank you.”
“You seem tired, Lady Hwang. Should we stay? I can wash your hair if you wish,” Emi offered.
“I am tired,” you admitted. “But I’ll be just fine. After you’ve filled the tub, please return to your quarters and enjoy your night.”
You were eager to plunge into the small but comfortable copper tub of your lavatory—while Hyunjin’s was more spacious, yours felt, well, like yours. You liked this room and everything about it. The balcony, the view in the morning, the furniture, the rich wood adorning it. In any case—for some reason you couldn’t quite explain, you craved Hyunjin’s presence in a space that wasn’t his. Almost like you feared you would overdose on him.
He was far by now. Most likely, he was back downstairs with Lord Christopher and Changbin who were having late-night drinks, as they usually did when the Bangs visited. Normally, you would be with Ha-ri and Lady Bang,somewhere in the manor, chatting and doing lady things. It did not matter, however, how far away Hyunjin was—you could still feel his hands on your body, his lips on your skin. You could still hear his voice in the air around you.
Can’t you see what I see in you?
You wondered what it was that he saw. You wondered if any of it came from you, really you, or if it was all just more attributes forced onto you.
It was never about what I want, or what I don’t want.
Apparently not. None of what Hyunjin had told you tonight felt real—you would be able to recite each word but your mind simply could not believe them.
Hyunjin had not chosen you, he had not chosen to be engaged or married to you.
But neither had you. And it did not change one thing about the amount of love you held for him, or how profound that love was.
I want to fuck a baby into you.
You pressed your thighs together, clenching around nothing. You hadn’t lied to him—it was true that you had been built into a baby-making wife. But what was also painfully true was your hunger. Your yearning. And it had nothing to do with childbearing. It was not the sort of thing a lady should ever have on her mind, let alone act on. They locked women in asylums for thoughts far less lewd or offensive.
You wanted Hyunjin that way because you desired him. You wanted him like he was a part of you that was missing—and maybe he was. Maybe he was exactly that. It didn’t matter how it would happen. He could hastily take you from behind at some event, unable to help himself. Or he could take his time, sinking into you over the course of several hours. He could, if he wanted, hurt you. He could pull your skirt up at any moment and take you, claiming you for good. He could, if he wanted, fuck his demons into you. You would gladly rid him of them. He would not need to be kind. He could pin you down, tie you up, pull your hair. Nothing that he would do to you would hurt as much as the absence of him did.
But you loved him.
You loved him enough to give up just about anything if it meant you would be together. The edges of his soul were sharp, but so were yours. He had given you quite a few cuts just like you had done to him. He had never chosen to marry you. You had never chosen to marry him.
But you had fallen in love with him.
And you had chosen to let that happen.
No amount of tears, of pain, of frustration would ever make you regret that, or make you wish your life had taken another turn. Often, others kept their hearts closed—they made sure to stay at a safe distance from the things they liked out of fear of those becoming things they loved. But you weren’t like that and you had never been.
Once, your mother had told you, Why is it that whenever you love something, it’s broken, or crippled? And you did not have an answer to that question. You loved what you loved. Period. She had tried to paint you as weak because of it, and for a long time, you believed her. You could see it clearly now. No love, certainly not the honest, unconditional kind, was the symptom of a brittle heart. On the contrary—only the bravest ones allowed it to permeate their souls.
One day, a traveling merchant visited your family’s villa—he was selling strange wares, something you had never seen before. Plates, vases, cups, teapots—except they were not new. He had said that these pieces had once been valuable and that they had been discarded by their owners after shattering. This man, an old man, explained to your father and to you how he had made it his life’s purpose to repair these objects so they could be beautiful again. So that they could fulfill their purpose.
He used gold to reattach the pieces together. The practice had a name, only you couldn’t remember what it was called.
You loved Hyunjin exactly the way he was—as broken or crippled as he might be. And one day, maybe, he would let you become the string of gold that held him together, something that made him whole again.
A delicate scent of jasmine reached Hyunjin’s nostrils as soon as he pushed your bedroom door open. He almost dropped the tray he was holding when Cloud snaked in between his feet, dashing out of the room with one of her characteristic—and very loud—meows. At this hour, she usually liked to hang around the kitchen. The staff fed her some meat and she liked to nap by the oven while it was still warm.
“Is that you?” you inquired. Your question was followed by gentle splashes of water, indicating that you were already bathing.
You didn’t need to say his name. He knew when you were speaking to him because your voice sounded different then.
“It’s me.” Without wasting time, he went to you.
The air was thick in the washroom, heavy with the humidity created by your apparently very hot bath. You didn’t seem bothered by the heat one bit, laying in the water like a siren, head resting on the edge of the tub. It was too dark for him to see you nearly as much as he’d like, but he could make out your silhouette under the water, familiar and enticing.
His heart still beating unevenly after tonight’s events, he sat on the chair near the bathtub, setting the tray on the counter next to him. You observed him in silence, your hair floating around you, your fingers tracing circles in the water, creating ripples on the surface of it.
“I brought you some food.” His voice was still shaking. He couldn’t stop seeing it in his head. Those awful capsules you kept. The look in your eyes when he found you. The look in your eyes this morning when he almost violated you. “You haven’t had dessert.”
You remained quiet, your eyes not leaving him once. He had stepped out just short of half an hour, long enough to let things settle, to digest at least some of it. Long enough to hear the staff talk excitedly about the big news, which had just become public. Literally moments ago, apparently. It was with tears in his eyes that Christopher confirmed it to be true. And it was with tears in his eyes, too, that Hyunjin embraced him and congratulated him. If there was one man Hyunjin had no doubt would be a wonderful father, it was him.
Hyunjin rose from his seat, grabbing one of the pieces of honeycomb he had brought. They were a part of your last harvest—while you insisted they should be reserved for presents to your friends or guests, he didn’t like thinking that you worked so hard to take care of your bees, all summer, only to give away all of the yield.
It was sticky on his fingers. He lowered himself right by the tub and brought the sweet treat to your lips. You took a little bite from it and more honey spilled on his hand, dripping on your collarbone. Hyunjin ate the rest, savoring each second of it, the chewy beeswax and the unique taste of your wildflower honey.
“Do you want more, darling?” he asked softly, licking his fingers clean so he wouldn’t waste a single drop.
“No, Hyunjin. Thank you.”
He stood again, wincing in pain—the injury to his knee had healed well but his leg had never been quite the same since—and returned to the counter to get you something else. Your lips curved into a smile when he brought you a small glass of port. You went to hold it but he didn’t let you. Instead, he pressed it on your lips, helping you drink it.
“Oh, it’s the good one,” you commented after the first sip.
“Only the best for my darling wife,” he replied with a smile that was a little somber.
This time, you didn’t let him—you took the glass from him, allowing him to drink his own. It was really warm here and the fabric of his shirt stuck to his skin in places, or maybe it was just the curve of your bare shoulders.
Your free hand broke the surface of the water and you held it palm up towards him. His heart jumped a little when he understood what you were asking for, but he held your hand, squeezing it gently.
“I apologize, Hyunjin,” you uttered slowly. “I’m sorry I…” You sighed, drinking a small sip of port while you found the right words. “I’ve been so selfish.”
He almost choked on his drink. “Selfish? No, that’s me, I’m selfish. I keep doing what I think is right because otherwise my conscience couldn’t take it. I should have realized before that it has consequences. That even if we think something is right, it doesn’t mean it is.”
He had repeated the pattern you had been used to—putting you through his own issues and pacifying you with an apiary. Wasn’t this exactly the same as your childhood? He still remembered your letters from then—he remembered all of your letters—and how surprised you were that your parents would allow you to learn the beekeeping trade. His intentions mattered little here—of course he had done it to make you happy. And it had made you happy. Only it was like making you lick honey off the stem of a rose—the taste would be sweet, yes, but the thorns would cut your tongue nonetheless.
You sat upright, pulling yourself closer to him, your chin resting on the arm you kept on the edge of the tub. “We’re sick in the head, aren’t we?” you whispered, sorrow written all over your face. You sighed. “I had a very unladylike idea. And you had the very unlordly reaction to shove your fingers down my throat to make me throw up. All of that just because I’m too… concupiscent for my, or your, own good.”
“Concupiscent?” He swallowed the last of his port but barely, coughing it down.
“Yes, concupiscent!” you repeated, but this time, your traits had softened and the ghost of a smile appeared on your lips. “Both in the literal and Christian sense of the word.”
“You’re exaggerating, darling.” He became serious then. In his head, his thoughts danced in circles, too fast for him to grasp onto one. The truth was that he couldn’t stop thinking of the moment he saw you with these evil pills.
You had it all wrong. He had failed to make you see the love he had for you. He had failed you as a husband. As a friend. Because if you knew the extent—the magnitude—of his devotion, the thought wouldn’t even have crossed your mind. Because then you would have known that any harm you caused yourself was inflicted tenfold onto him.
You were the only thing in the world that mattered. He would give up on it all if it meant that joy had made a home out of your heart.
“I’m not,” you went on. “I’m humbly asking for your forgiveness.”
“There is nothing to forgive. Darling. Nothing.”
You looked into his eyes. “You’re wrong. There is. I am asking for your forgiveness. Please give it to me.”
He discarded his empty glass. “I dare not ask for your forgiveness, but—”
You cut him off. “I forgive you.”
The air had been kicked out of his lungs—for a few seconds, he could only hear a ringing in his left ear. He didn’t deserve you. He never had. You had too good of a heart—it should love something other than him. In a perfect life, you wouldn’t be Lady Hwang. You wouldn’t even know of his existence. In a perfect life, you would be a princess, or perhaps even a queen, and your husband would have a soul that didn’t have holes in it.
But life wasn’t perfect. Which meant that his life was absolutely perfect.
Because it had put you on his path. Because you were his sweet, sweet wife, living under his roof, because you took his name, because you were his. He knew he held no ownership over you and yet you were his woman. No matter how hurt, no matter how deranged either of you were, Hyunjin was your man and you were his woman.
“And don’t tell me not to,” you added. “I’m not taking it back. Can we try again? Please?”
“Try what, darling?” he caressed your hair. Most of it was damp.
“This. All of this. Our marriage.” You thought about it. “I don’t want to erase what we had, but I want to move past tonight. I made a mistake and… I want to outgrow it.”
He sighed, kissing your forehead. Your skin was warm—the warmth spilled inside of him, traveling from his lips, spreading within his body. “Then, I do forgive you.” He still didn’t see anything he ought to give you forgiveness for, but if it was something you needed to hear from him, then he ought to say it. “Promise me you will never hurt yourself? You’ll never only hurt you if you do so.”
You nodded, tilting your head to the side, inviting him in for a kiss to which he did not resist. Hyunjin kissed you slowly. Your mouth tasted like honey and port and you smelled like jasmine and he was so in love with you that sometimes it felt like he was dying. It had to be what death felt like, right? Frightening and peaceful at once.
You deepened the kiss, breathing your sweet air into his lungs. He moaned when you rested your hands, dripping with hot scented water, onto his shoulders to pull him closer. Only he was as close as he could be. You owned him. He was little more than a marionette dictated by your existence.
He melted into the kiss, warmth spreading in his belly. Your fingers, sneaky and agile, began undoing the buttons of his shirt. You smiled against his lips as you undressed him lazily and he, himself, took care of his trousers. Clothes seemed so futile when he was with you—any moment spent without the contact of your bare skin on his was wasted.
It took no time for him to step into the tub with you. Only, this one was much smaller than the one in his bedroom so he had to squeeze himself there. Fortunately you found a solution to the problem when you came to straddle him, your ass resting on his thighs, your arms around his neck.
He kissed your lips again, then your neck. He licked the honey off your collarbone, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips. The warmth you had sparked within him had turned into something else. It felt, almost, like something was vibrating at a low frequency in his lower abdomen.
“Baby, we don’t have to,” you murmured into his hair, holding onto him. “I just needed you close.” Maybe you were feeling him grow hard against your thigh—Hyunjin had no way to resist you. But it was becoming difficult. To resist.
Because, before tonight, he had never admitted to anybody—not even to himself—the things he told you. In some ways, he became aware of them as the words spilled from his lips. He couldn’t explain his panic. You wouldn’t be the first woman to use this substance to prevent or stop birth. He was well aware of the practice.
How could he explain this to you?
He recognized the bottle in your hands from across the room. He had seen it before, or something similar enough anyway, in his mother’s bedroom cabinet. He couldn’t explain it to you because he had no way of proving it anyway, but he knew that his mother had suffered numerous miscarriages. That he was the only baby who ever held inside her.
Had she wanted him at all?
Had she tried to get rid of him, too? Had she tried to prevent him altogether in preparation for whenever his father might want to unleash himself onto her next?
Maybe, what he had seen at that moment as you sat on your bed, holding the medicine in your hands, was the reality he had been avoiding for so long—by trying so hard to be unlike his father, he was becoming indistinguishable from him. He was becoming him, only in a different shade perhaps.
He wanted to be more than that. He wanted to be more than trying to be something, or someone. He wanted to deserve you. Really deserve you.
And it was difficult to resist. His willpower was weakening the more time he spent with you because it just meant he loved you a little more each day. And every day, it was a surprise because he had never imagined he would have the capacity to love you more than he already did.
And yet.
“I’m right here darling.”
He let his hands travel along the paradise that was your body, stopping only to cup your breasts. He played with your nipples in slow, relaxed circles, using his thumbs. The rest of his fingers squeezed you, eliciting a little breathy moan out of you that was so alluring it made him dizzy.
You caressed him, too—his neck, his arms, his forearms, holding onto his wrists, your face twisting in pleasure with every new touch despite how you seemed to want to fight it. He didn’t want to fight it. He didn’t want to fight anymore. He had fought his inner demons his whole life, and for what?
“I’m right here,” he said again, his eyes gliding over your body. “God, look at you. My pretty wife… and those tits…”
You blushed violently so he did not let you turn away—gently pushing your chin upwards with two of his fingers, Hyunjin watched as your skin became a canvas on which color was spreading, deep and vivid and moving, better than any masterpiece.
“Lovely,” he commented, peppering your face with little kisses.
You giggled under your breath, taking his mouth for a deep kiss. Your lips were smooth and warm—he kissed you back, desperately, losing a bit more of his sanity with each second.
“Why are you laughing?” he questioned, amused and endeared and aroused. “Did I say something funny?”
You shook your head and took a few instants to give him your response, during which he admired you some more. Your eyes like stories, telling more than an entire library ever could, your flushed cheeks, your lips, raw from kissing.
“No.” You bit your lip, sinking onto him a little more, the weight of you delightful on his hardening cock. “You make me feel beautiful.”
Maybe it was his life’s calling—maybe he had been put on his Earth to serve that one and only purpose. To serve you, your heart, and your beauty. To be the mirror in which you saw all of those things that made you the ravishing woman that you were. From your smile to the way you pronounced his name, or your sweeter-than-honey voice. Your mind,stronger than mountains and your heart. Your heart, which was much like an ocean—grand, full of life, and deep. Your heart held so much that sometimes he worried you would collapse under its weight. But no, not you. Because you were you. His pretty beekeeper wife. And there was nothing he wanted more than to drown in that sea.
“You are beautiful, darling.”
He throbbed when you rolled your hips just a little, seeking friction. Your lips parted open but no sound came out of them. What a shame—he ought to change that.
He, too, bucked his hips, but a little harder, and this time you blessed him with your voice, moaning as you let your head fall in the crook of his neck. He was going to be fully hard soon if you kept going. If he kept going. He slid his hands at your back to rest them on your ass, keeping you close. The feeling of your hard nipples against his chest was enough to drive him crazy. There was no space between your body and his, and yet it wasn’t even enough. He needed more. He needed you closer even.
“I wish I had understood all these things before,” he confessed, massaging your ass, rubbing his erection on your thigh and the soft skin of your cunt.
“We said we were moving on,” you reminded him, kissing his jaw. “I just want both of us to be happy.”
Moving on. Something he had never quite done before. His entire life, Hyunjin had been haunted by the ghosts of his past and some days, he still felt as though he was the little boy hiding in his room—in this room—to escape fury or despair.
But he would do any one thing you asked for. His defenses had all been annihilated tonight. He was finally allowing his heart to tap into his deepest, most secret desires, to turn silence into words, to let them take flight. He hoped it wasn't too late, but it was tonight that he realized that love would always be stronger than fear.
“What else do you want, baby?” Anything. You could ask for anything and he would give it to you.
Your lips crashed on his for a passionate kiss—you let go of his shoulders to shove a hand underwater, wrapping your fingers around his cock. “Let me make you feel good,” you said between kisses, squeezing him, making him see stars already. Heat pooled between his legs and he suppressed a whimper when you fondled his balls in the most tender, sensual way you possibly could.
He groaned in your mouth as you alternated between palming and pumping his length. “Close your eyes,” you whispered, pushing his head back to expose his neck. You kissed him there too.
You thumbed his tip skillfully, using just enough friction, touching him in all the right places. “Oh fuck.” You knew him by heart, didn’t you? He was a slave under you, obeying each of your commands.
“I want to ask you something.” Your voice was low. “I want you to tell me what you were thinking about this morning when you…”
He throbbed in your hand at the mere memory of it. You felt it, adjusting your pace accordingly.
“No,” he managed, his breath hitching. “It’s not… right.”
Your languid massage came to a halt—instead, you squeezed him so hard that his entire body jerked forward, pleasure and pain becoming one, spreading under his skin.
You went on. “I want to know what it would be like. If we…”
He tried to steady his breathing but you made it very difficult by literally holding him by the balls and looking like a goddess on top of him.
“We never have to do it,” you added softly with a smile. “But I want to imagine it in my head.”
We never have to do it only Hyunjin had reached the limit. Of what he could prevent. Of his self-control. His temperance had run out.
“No man should say these things to his wife.” It was too lewd. Too honest. “I fear I would feel compelled to act upon my words. And it wouldn’t be right to do so tonight, would it, darling?”
“Not if you do it to silence me,” you breathed. “It would only be right if you did so because you wanted it so bad that you couldn’t help it. Isn’t that what almost happened, earlier? Is that why you were so angry this morning?”
He throbbed again—harder this time, moaning as you gave his cock a gentle squeeze. “Baby—”
Fuck this.
He had enough of it all. Of trying. Of resisting. Of pretending, even to himself, that he wasn’t obsessed with it, with you. He should have loved you hard on your wedding night. He should have loved you hard every night after.
“Tell me,” you insisted. But instead of telling you, he lifted you off him—you stared at him surprised, retreating a little farther.
He pushed himself up, splashing water all over the floor in the process, getting out of the bathtub. You turned to him, reaching for his cock again—hard, straining—and opening your mouth to take him between your lips, but he stopped you, cupping your face instead. “Get up, darling.”
Your eyes widened with anticipation and he had to force air into his lungs as you stood, graceful and sinful at once, your skin covered in goosebumps. Water rolled down your body and he followed it with his gaze. He liked the way the drops slowed down around your stomach before they continued their course, disappearing in the trimmed, silky-soft hair covering your pussy.
You stepped out of the bathtub, your arms around his neck to kiss him—he kissed you back but wrapped your legs around his waist as he lifted you. He should have done so on your wedding night. He should have done so every night after.
“A—Are you sure?” you managed, grinding almost painfully on his erection, kissing and licking his neck, leaving a trail of spit behind. “You’re not doing it just to—”
He lay you in your bed, dampening the sheets immediately but he didn’t care. He held his cock, giving it a few lazy pumps as he kneeled over you. “No, I’m not doing it to silence you. Or whatever.” He kissed you. Your thighs. Your mons. Your waist. Your breasts. Your neck. Your lips. “I’m doing it because I can’t fucking resist you anymore.”
You whined when he pushed onto your knee to spread your legs for him, holding onto his arms like you were afraid to fall. Were you scared? Turned on? Eager? You looked eager—disheveled, with your eyes glazed over, your chest rising and lowering with your small, shallow breaths.
You let out a loud moan when he cupped your pussy, feeling how wet you were and it wasn’t from the bath. Your juices stuck to his fingers and the palm of his hand as he massaged you, the tip of his fingers teasing your ass.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—” You sighed, head falling at the back, arching your back. “Yes, please—”
It would be a lie to say he hadn’t thought about this moment a lot. Because he had. Before meeting you and after. Sometimes he was imagining long, elaborate scenarios, and others simply picturing the moment he would work you open and the context didn’t matter.
Except it mattered. Context was everything. Context was more important than the act itself. It was with shame that he was towering over you tonight, the flames of the candles around your bed lighting only some parts of you—your left breast, your waist on the left side, too, your face. You had granted him his forgiveness a little too quickly and it didn’t feel quite deserved now. So he would keep begging you for it until he was satisfied. Until he knew he earned it, really earned it.
He clicked his tongue at the sight. “Darling.” He pressed two fingers at your entrance and he swore he could feel your pulse there. He caressed you, smearing your slick all over your pussylips. “Not so fast.” He needed more time.
He would keep begging until he knew he deserved you, which was to say, he would keep begging until his last breath. He didn’t need to use words for it. He would put his mouth to a better use than that, whispering his pleas into you.
He lowered himself between your legs, in this sacred place, kissing your inner thighs. Your skin smelled like the jasmine oil you had bathed in but the scent of your pussy was better. Sweeter.
“You want to know what went through my mind this morning?” He inhaled you, pressing his face between your legs, your slick coating his face. You writhed under him, your fists finding his hair. “It might offend you to know I was frighteningly close to forcing myself onto you.” He lapped at your cunt, teasing you, letting your taste melt into the tip of his tongue. Just little kitten licks, but each of them sent a jolt of lightning directly to his crotch. Each of them made you moan louder than the last.
It was true and it felt good to say it while tasting you. It felt good to say it, period.
“I wanted to keep you there and spread you open,” he went on, tilting his head to the side a little so he could reach your entrance better. Your cunt fluttered on his tongue, forcing a grunt out of him. “I wanted to watch myself sink into your tight cunt. Wanted to bury myself as deep as I could.”
You cried out, your hand closing into a fist in his hair, pressing him closer, rolling your hips to meet his tongue, to rub your clit onto his nose. You were hungry for more but he was hungrier. A craving that could not be explained with words.
“I wanted to break you open.” He used two of his fingers to expose you to him. “I wanted to fuck you. And ruin your pretty pussy.” Hyunjin pushed his tongue into your tight hole, licking you, fucking you with it. He did it because he knew you loved it, he knew you lost it every time he did it. But the truth was that it was an out-of-body experience to feel your cunt flutter around his tongue. You arched into his mouth, your voice filling the quiet room. “I thought exactly the same thing the very day I met you. We weren’t even married, darling, and I already wanted to ravage you.”
He quickly returned to your cunt, kissing it, fucking it sloppy with his tongue. You were meant to be worshiped. Could you feel that? Could you feel that each swirl of his tongue was a new prayer?
He barely heard you over the lewd sounds of his own mouth on you, but he could swear you muttered something like please fucking do it, which made his legs go limp a little. He groaned, taking himself in one hand to soothe the aching pressure he felt at his core. Eager. So fucking eager, and impatient. Acting innocent earlier with your we don’t have to do it, knowing fully he would. Knowing he had no wish for restraint anymore.
No, of course, you weren’t like that, were you? You wouldn’t torture him this way. But you were hungry for cock, and it was driving him properly insane.
He emerged from between your legs out of breath, your juices dripping all over his chin. “You really don’t know, do you?” God, you were so fucking wet. And he wasn’t even really drunk anymore—yet he felt lightheaded, like he was barely more than a cock and a mouth and a heart that loved you endlessly. “You ask for something but you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle it.” He meant that. As though to prove his point, he lay his tongue flat on your folds, taking one firm lick, slurping on you like you were the most extravagant dessert. Which, well, was exactly what you were. He was certain he could live off your cunt and only your cunt. You were the only sustenance required to keep him alive. “If I had my way with you, you would have blacked out while I made you mine.”
You clenched around nothing, pressing your thighs together, pressing his head harder in between them. Concupiscent his ass. You were straight-up horny. But he had known this about you for a while now, hadn’t he? He just hadn’t let that information sink in—truly sink in—in order to protect you. Or himself. Both, perhaps.
“I have to relax you before,” he explained. He was leaking already. “Do you understand, darling?”
He glanced at you in time to see you nod—you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him, making it impossible for him not to smile. Even in this light, he could see your beauty. Hell, it could have been daylight or completely dark that it wouldn’t have made a difference. Your beauty transcended all human senses.
“Don’t hold back,” he warned you, returning to his post, his purpose, his home. He pushed a single finger into your dripping hole—farther than he ever had before, just past the second knuckle. He felt it in his crotch when you clenched around him, writhing and whimpering desperately.
He gave your clit a kiss first, a gentle one, massaging your walls with his finger.
And then he unleashed himself on you.
Hugging your clit in his plush lips, he licked and sucked onto it, regularly changing his tempo, fucking you with his finger at the same time, speaking sins and miracles into your cunt. The way you pulled his hair to fuck yourself onto his face made him want to die or something like it. He almost came when he felt a deep throb within you. You were close, too.
He rotated his wrist, inserting a second finger inside—and almost lost his sanity because of it. How tight were you even? You wouldn’t be able to take his cock, would you? He wouldn’t even be able to put half of it in your virgin pussy.
Your voice turned into pretty staccato moans when he found the soft spot he was looking for. You couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers, so he licked at your clit, obeying its demands, wishing nothing but to fulfill his function.
“Yes, oh yes, oh my god—” You weren’t making much sense, but the sound of your voice almost brought tears to his eyes. Beautiful.
His wife. His woman.
He applied a bit more pressure in both places—your clit and the sensitive spot inside your cunt, moaning with you as you ascended, rubbing his cock onto the mattress.
He did not stop when you came—you were convulsing almost violently on the bed, pleasure taking over you, crying out, your cunt pulsing under him. You gushed onto his face, coating it with your sweet, sweet, sweet cream. He stopped breathing, becoming one with you, letting your orgasm move him, too. Letting the high tide take him. Gradually, you came to a stop and he followed you into stillness too, only removing his fingers once he was certain your high had receded.
You collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily, the scent of your cunt all over him and this room.
He was well aware that simply thinking such a thing was a cardinal sin, but he knew that if angels made love and had orgasms, they looked just like you when you did. Sounded like you. Felt like you. Tasted like you, too.
He couldn’t see it in the dark, but he knew that a special treat was now pooling at your entrance. His special treat. His reward for helping you reach rapture. He waited a few seconds while you were resting before selfishly lapping at your entrance once more, collecting your juices, slurping and swallowing them, swallowing you.
You came back gently—he felt your hand in his hair again, caressing him lovingly now. He smiled as he drank the last of you, not wasting any time before he climbed up onto you so he could share your taste. You looked fucked out, your skin was hot and feverish, and he kissed you hard. He could feel you tasting yourself, seeking the sweetness in his mouth. He throbbed at that. He was no longer reigning over his own body for you were the queen sitting at the throne.
You pulled away, looking him in the eyes as best you could in the dark. You touched his face. He was feverish too, sweat pooling at his temples, his hair stuck in all sorts of places.
“We don’t have to,” you whispered for the second time that night, with a sweet smile on your lips and, if he wasn’t making things up, tears in your eyes. “I love you, Hyunjin.”
“I love you too, darling.” His leaking cock rested on your pussy, as it usually did when he was making an approximation of love to you. “You know I love you, right? Don’t lie to me.”
He appreciated that you took a few seconds to think about it. You nodded, wiping the corner of your eye. “I do.”
Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead. And then he kissed the tears on your cheeks. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer.
“Are you saying we don’t have to because you don’t want to, baby?” He gave your lips a kiss, too. “Because it’s okay.”
You shook your head vigorously. “No! No, I want to.” As though to prove your point, you wrapped your legs around his waist, the two of you becoming completely intertwined. But it was more than just your bodies—it was your souls that were entangled, too.
“But you’re crying.” He hated it when you cried. It was as though each tear was a thousand years of torture.
“I’m crying but I’m not sad.” You held his face with both hands. “I’m not even scared. I'm happy.”
He sort of wanted to cry, too so he understood what you meant. Tonight really was special. It was strange to know he was currently creating one of the most beautiful memories in his life, one that he would cherish even when he would be old. Perhaps especially when he would be old. He smiled. “You’ll have to tell me if I hurt you.”
“You will hurt me,” you said with conviction. “I want it to hurt.”
He grunted, burying his face in your hair while he recovered from that lethal plea. You caressed his back, his waist, his ass, dragging your fingernails along his skin, tickling him all over.
There wasn’t much left of the flames on the candles, which meant he had limited time. Because if there was one thing all of his fantasies had in common, it was that he truly, profoundly wished to look into your eyes as he fucked you. When he claimed you.
“Darling,” he began, “I want you to look at me.”
You did, your eyes finding his when he positioned himself. His heart skipped a few beats when he spread you open. He guided himself near your entrance but stayed there. “Keep looking at me. Don’t close your eyes.”
He could not wait anymore. It felt like he had waited a thousand years. It felt like it was the only way, maybe, you would truly understand the love he had for you. If he fucked it into you.
“I love you,” you said again as he ever so slightly pushed the tip of his cock inside you. Barely. Not even an inch.
But he caught on fire nonetheless.
It took all of the composure in the world not to buck his hips violently—he had reached nirvana. He had ascended somewhere higher than heaven. Somehow, he could taste love and lust. He could hear colors maybe.
“I love you,” he managed, his cock throbbing dangerously.
He moved a little, sinking deeper into your heat, his cock engulfed by your tight warmth. His eyelids fluttered as blood rushed to his crotch but it felt like his heart was sinking and was beating somewhere there, astray but more powerful than ever.
You were so wet, so snug around him, your eyes not leaving him, your pretty mouth parted open as you took more and more of him. It was becoming difficult for him to move now. “Relax baby,” he muttered, retreating a little.
“Do it,” you begged, your fingernails sinking into his back. “Take me, please.”
He caressed your folds, each of his moves slow and purposeful. “Again.”
He sank into your warmth once more, not forcing it but making sure all of his tip had disappeared. “You’re so fucking wet,” he commented, hissing through his teeth.
He kissed you, deeply, trying to say something with his tongue for which he could not find the words. You kissed him back, undulating your hips gently.
He made sure it was as unhurried as it could possibly be. Hyunjin guided his cock into your intimacy, sinking into your dripping hole.
“Deeper,” you whined, spreading yourself more for him.
“Shhh, baby.” He caressed your cheek, thrusting into you with more strength finally, stretching your virgin cunt open, moving in shallow thrusts, patiently. Yet impatiently. These few seconds appeared to him much longer than all of his existence so far.
It was better than anything he had ever thought it would be. Not because you were tight and not because you were soaking wet for him, and not even because you were a virgin and he was about to claim your chastity, the crumbs of innocence you had left. You were better than any whiskey, making him drunker than liquor ever could. Because he loved you. Because he had you. And he wouldn’t want his life to be any other way. It didn’t matter the pain that he went through if it meant that he got to be with you in the end.
If given the choice, he would do it all over again so that he could be here with you, tonight, his aching cock forcing itself inside you.
You cried out when he met resistance—he came to a stop, his heartbeat echoing in his ears.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he breathed. “Just look at me.”
He pulled away a little only to thrust back into you. And then he did it again. And again. Kindly. Slowly. You struggled with keeping your eyes open but you did so anyway, your moans more beautiful than any music as he fucked you into his woman.
He would compare it to the feeling of jerking awake in the middle of the night, feeling like he was falling from the sky. That strange feeling of losing his balance, his senses, of not knowing where he was or where he was going.
Yes. It felt just like that when he breached you open.
He saw it in your eyes for just a second. Pain, pleasure, surprise. Ecstasy. You gasped, clenching around him, your fingernails cutting the skin of his back. He observed you the way some observed masterpieces in galleries, taking it all in, noticing the subtleties, engraving the beauty in his mind so that it would remain there forever. You looked at him like you had been falling, too, and like he was the only thing you could hold onto. You looked at him like you were seeing him for the first time. For the thousandth time.
“FUCK—” Nothing could even compare to you. How tight you were. How well you took him. How beautiful you were with your flushed cheeks and the tip of your tongue resting on your bottom lip.
Hyunjin moved inside you, stretching you some more, finally bottoming out. He looked down, barely seeing anything but enough to be aware that his cock was buried deep inside you. He stayed there, returning to your face, to your mouth. Just lips on lips, your breath tickling his skin, the spasms of your pussy calming down with you as you adjusted to his size.
“Are you okay?” he asked under his breath, not sure whether he was or not. “Talk to me.”
“Y—Yes.” You inhaled and exhaled a few times but it didn’t seem to have much of an effect. Hyunjin could feel your pulse through your skin. “Fuck me, Hyunjin.”
You would kill him someday.
“Spread your legs a little more for me, yeah?” He adjusted himself to be more comfortable as he kissed you. Your mouth, smooth and wet, still tasted like your pussy.
He didn’t break the kiss as he resumed his thrusts, barely moving at first. You jerked your hips underneath, attempting to fuck yourself onto him. He didn’t let you—not right now. He held you down by your waist, slowly pumping in and out of you, and the dance began. Because it was much like it, a dance—but so was just about everything beautiful, wasn't it?
Hyunjin remained calm for a while, fucking you slowly yet relentlessly, his body over yours and your hands all over him, feeling him, his abdomen, his arms, even his cock as he fucked you with it. Like you were trying to learn him the way you would learn a language or a trade. Or a dance.
“You’re so—so big,” you moaned before biting into his shoulder as his fucking picked up a pace. As he slammed into you a little harder, but not nearly as hard as he could, or wanted to.
He had thought it would be easy to ruin you but he had been wrong. You were the most precious thing in this world, and each cry tortured him to no end while, also, filling him with the highest pleasure he had ever experienced.
“Fuck me. Like that. Yes—”
He did, obeying your command as he was meant to, stuffing you with his cock. His gentle thrusts blended into another shade of red when your gasps turned into long, erotic moans. He danced with you harder, faster, pounding into your dripping pussy, driving himself insane, driving himself close to his high.
“Take it. Take my cock.” He was begging you in strangled groans.
“Yes, please, yes!”
He didn’t want it to stop. He never wanted this moment to end—he was ready to explode but he wished this night would last forever. It was all he ever wanted. To be balls deep into your cunt, your voice echoing in the room, the lewd sounds of your bodies colliding like music to his ears. He slowed down, taking some time to kiss your neck, your bare shoulder, to inhale the scent of your hair, to taste your pussy on your lips.
“Baby.” You pressed your hands on his ass in an attempt at pushing him into your pussy again. Eager. So eager. “Don’t stop.”
He needed a minute or an eternity. He was experiencing true bliss for the first time in his life, buried into your wetness, making his peace with whatever demons had been haunting him before.
When he failed to give you what you wished for, you did something that surprised him beyond words—you hooked your leg around his, rolling over and taking him with you until he was lying flat on his back. At one point in the maneuver, he slipped out from your soaked cunt and the air felt cold and brutal around him. He missed you immediately. It felt like he was lacking something, like he had lost an organ.
Before he knew it, you were straddling him, panting, reaching for his cock to put it back where it belonged.
It dawned on him then. As if he could see it all clearly, finally. You were his wife. You were the girl he had written letters to all his life. You were the girl who sent him letters all his life, too. You were the woman he married, the woman he had desired for years. The person he had loved all this time, the one he belonged with, the one he belonged to. And you were on top of him, claiming him just as much as he was claiming you. Time came to a stop when he realized that his wildest dreams had come true.
You sank onto his straining cock, taking more of it inch by inch, getting used to feeling him this way. You came to a stop when you were completely sitting on him, clenching violently. You were going to milk him. You were going to fuck his soul out of him.
You rolled your hips tentatively once just to see what it was like. Then you did it again with a little more determination. And again. And again—soon enough, you were riding him in powerful, needy movements, accompanied by equally needy moans. Fuck. He was doomed.
Hyunjin snapped when you lay your hands flat on his chest, using another angle to take even more of him.
“Already greedy,” he muttered, fucking you from below. “Look at the way you take my cock.”
Like a pro. Like your body had always known his.
“Take it. Use me, baby. Take what you need.” Hyunjin was close—his cock throbbed every two or three seconds and he couldn’t hold for much longer, certainly not with you on top of him like that, bouncing on his cock.
He squeezed your tits, caressed your tummy, held your waist. He cried out when the speed of your riding increased, when your voice turned into desperate little gasps.
“Take it.” You were using him. Abusing him. Edging yourself on his aching cock. “Cum on my cock, darling.”
He grabbed your waist to guide the rolls of your hips, pushing you up and down on him, using you the same way you were doing with him. He was close. His vision was blurred—he had already started to melt into the mattress beneath him, his entire life dictated by the intoxicating sensation of your tight cunt undulating up and down his length.
His pretty wife. His beekeeper wife. No longer a virgin but a cock-hungry, desperate seductress with whom he was hopelessly in love.
The pressure in his abdomen became too much—his muscles tightened as he felt himself toppling over the edge. He saw sparks. He felt them, too, all over him.
Hyunjin let out a long, drawn-out moan when he came, back arching into you, hips stuttering, pleasure shattering him in pieces. He spilled himself inside you, spurting thick ropes of cum and filling you with them. You fucked it all deeper inside you as you came, too, your pussy fluttering, your upper body collapsing onto him, your hips moving with your orgasm, obeying it. He didn’t think this amount of cum ever came out of him before—he was still twitching and leaking when you came to a stop, spent and content and exhausted. Much like him.
Neither of you moved for a long time, long enough for all the candles to run out of wax, turning the room completely dark in the night.
It wasn’t just dark. It was quiet—very quiet. And Hyunjin realized it was the same in his mind, too. For the first time in a long, long time—there wasn’t a voice shouting or whispering vile things in his head. There was nothing, only light, only love. Only you.
You climbed down his softening cock but it was only so you could curl up in his arms—still, it felt just as erotic as making love to you when his seed dripped out of you, some of it landing on his skin, lukewarm and sticky.
He held you close, the both of you sweaty, beautiful messes.
“I hope I didn’t hurt you too much, darling.” He smiled, kissing your forehead.
It wasn't just that it was quiet in his mind—his chest was lighter, too.
You hummed softly, your eyes closed, lulled to sleep by the rush of pleasure you experienced. “Not too much.” You opened your eyes but barely. “I didn’t think it would feel this big inside me,” you admitted. “But I loved it.”
Hyunjin blushed, pressing you against him, keeping you there. If he could have it his way, neither of you would ever have to leave this bed.
"Did I do alright?" you asked sleepily.
"Alright?" He held you tighter, kissing your forehead. "You fucked the life out of me, darling."
You giggled, the both of you comforted.
His slumber was dreamless, and yet he never ceased to feel your presence, even in his sleep.
It was sunlight that woke him up the next morning—for a few seconds, he thought it all must have been a dream, that it couldn't possibly have been true. Except you were still exactly in the same spot, naked, with light bruises on your waist where he held you, last night, as he rammed into you. There was more coloring at your neck where he sucked the skin too hard.
You woke up too, smiling as you remembered the night before. He was about to kiss you when you looked at him with wide eyes like you had just gotten an epiphany. You sat up in your bed quickly, pushing yourself to the side, observing the mattress.
“Oh my god,” you uttered, your voice raw from all your pleased screams and moans of the night before. “Hyunjin, we really did put way too much.”
He didn’t get it at first. Only when he sat up, too, did he see the same thing as you, which was the faintest—and it was really, really faint—pinkish-red stain on your white silk sheets. There were a lot of other stains, and to him it looked no different than staring at a piece of art, for they were remnants of his lovemaking with you.
Still, he chuckled with you, amused by your shock and at the way you covered your mouth, remembering your wedding night and his subterfuge. “Oh,” he simply said, admiring your body now. He had never felt any particular way when he entered a church, no matter how much he had been told of the sanctity of this place. But, looking at you, he understood what he ought to have been feeling all this time. His holy place. You were the goddess and the church at once, absolving him of all his sins, forcing him into sinning, hearing his grateful prayers and making him plea for mercy.
The same pinkish-red spread on your cheeks, delightful to see. “I’m so embarrassed now,” you pouted, hiding your face in your hands. “Everyone saw it! Oh no!”
He couldn’t help but laugh, following you into your lavatory as you fled the scene as though it would diminish your shame. He chased you, catching you by the waist and lifting you onto the counter to sit you down there. He kissed you—your mouth tasted like old water and the ghost of your pussy had lingered on your lips. “You’re okay, darling. They don’t matter.”
And he meant it. Hell, for the first time, he really did mean it.
That adorable pout didn’t leave your face. However, you played with his hair while he covered your breasts in kisses.“We need a bath,” you pointed out. “We’re disgusting.”
Your bathtub was still full of last night’s water. Hyunjin was supposed to leave for his business trip soon, but he had more important things to do, which were to wash up and have breakfast with you.
Or have you for breakfast.
He had never in his life before felt so alive. He had never before wished for immortality. He would not have enough of a mere mortal lifetime to love you.
“Let’s get dressed and have a bath in my room, yeah?” he suggested. “And then we can—”
You bit your lip, looking somewhere down his chest, smiling coyly. “Can we… you know? Again?”
“Yes, my darling. Again and again.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, taking in the sight of you. He had seen you wear luxurious gowns, he had seen your hair braided elegantly. But you had never been as beautiful as you were now.
That day was the first day in Hyunjin’s life where he felt absolutely no dread, no gloom. From the moment he woke up in your cum-stained bed to the moment he fell asleep much later at night, in a different city after painfully parting from you, all that he held within him was peace. Peace and elation.
He had held you close, very close, and you hadn’t broken into pieces. It had been distance that almost ruined it all, and Hyunjin would die before he let anything get in between you two again.
“You really are a little too cheery, brother.”
Hyunjin glared at Jungkook, elbowing him on his left side to shut him up. “Don’t call me that in front of people,” he muttered between his teeth. “Actually don’t call me that at all. Ever.”
“You’re no fun at all, Hwang.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, turning to the rest of the group who were having a completely unrelated discussion and not paying them any mind.
It was a splendid autumn evening, with a descending sunset and a cool breeze, making the walk from the hotel where he, Changbin, and Christopher stayed, quite pleasant and even invigorating. After three days of mentally draining business meetings and futile dinners with investors, Hyunjin had decided to prolong the trip a little, to go hunting among other things. Well, he didn’t really want to at first, but you insisted.
“It might be the only opportunity you get to do such a thing with Lord Christopher before he becomes a father,” you pointed out. “Knowing him, I doubt he will stay away from his wife and child much.”
You were right, of course. So Chris had joined him, Changbin, and Jungkook for a short hunting trip, and Hyunjin was trying very hard to focus on all of that instead of remembering how it felt to sink inside you…
“Are you even listening to me?” Jungkook waved his hands just inches short of Hyunjin’s face to bring him back to the present moment. “Damn. Are you sure you’re quite alright?” He turned to the other two. “Did he hit his head or something?”
Changbin shrugged while Christopher hid his smile. “He’s not telling us either, so I don’t know what his problem is.”
Jungkook gave Hyunjin a look that was a little too knowing, but he couldn’t possibly know anything about his current state of mind, so Hyunjin brushed it off as regular jungkookesque behavior.
“I’m listening,” Hyunjin said impatiently. “I said I didn’t mind going, I just wish you would have told me about this dinner before I left. We would have packed better, more appropriate clothes.”
Jungkook waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. Teddy isn’t like that. I’ve known him a long time and he's even less lordly than I am.”
“Well he mustn’t be very lordly at all then,” Hyunjin pointed out, causing Chris and Changbin to burst into laughter. Even Jungkook smiled reluctantly at the joke, pretending to be offended by it.
After spending most of the day outside hunting—and not catching anything, not even a hare—Jungkook had declared that the four of them had been formally invited for dinner at the residence of an old friend of his. He hadn’t really called him his friend, suggesting he was mostly an acquaintance. To Hyunjin, he had admitted to meeting him at a sex party. “But he had a girl on his cock and another was on the girl’s cunt, so we didn’t talk all that much.”
Which did not make Hyunjin eager at all to meet Jungkook’s not-friend, but he apparently had a great collection of weapons that both Chris and Changbin really wanted to see. He had longswords and maces and even a few katanas, or so Jungkook claimed. Hyunjin figured, considering the man’s political influence, that he might be able to negotiate something out of it, or at least to make a good impression. Maybe it would serve a purpose one day.
Which brought him to tonight. He followed the three other men, listening a little to Jungkook’s insane sex parties stories or his personal description of a few of the weapons they were about to see. But really Hyunjin was wondering what you were doing. It would be your birthday soon and he had found lovely gifts for you. He couldn’t wait to give them to you, to share them with you.
It took little time to reach their destination, which was a large townhouse in a posh neighborhood of the city. They were greeted by Jungkook’s friend himself, and despite his discontentment with the outfit he was wearing, Hyunjin made sure to use his best manners.
“I am so pleased to meet you, Lord Hwang,” the man said as he let them inside, away from the cold air. He was tall—taller than him even—and had chestnut-brown hair. “I heard a lot about you.”
“I have also heard a lot about you, Lord Grover.” Hyunjin dipped his head politely. After all, it wasn’t every day that he entered the home of an Earl. “Thank you for hosting us. I only wish we dressed more appropriately for the occasion.”
“I see nothing wrong with the way you are clothed, gentlemen.”
The house’s steward made an appearance then, bowing deeply as he saluted his guests.
Grover turned to him. “Isaki, have you prepared the parlor as I requested?”
“Yes, my lord,” the young man—a boy, really—replied. “I’ve also brewed some tea.”
Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t like Grover when he failed to thank his steward, letting young Isaki walk away after announcing tea. His gaze crossed Christopher’s and he saw the same displeasure as his own in it. The two of them seemed to have the same taste when it came to people.
Jungkook and Lord Grover caught up while he was giving them a tour of the house. This was only his secondary residence, which he kept for business and political purposes. He had a large estate in the countryside, somewhere a little down south.
“Isn’t this the region where your lady wife is from, Hwang?” Jungkook asked as they walked into the empty dining room. And Hyunjin knew, from the shape of his mouth, that he almost called him brother again.
He tsked, letting his reaction pass as something other than annoyance. “Yes, yes it very much is,” he managed, observing the many paintings adorning the walls. Two of them were by famous masters and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t impressed.
“Ah, yes, indeed!” Lord Grover grinned. “As she might have told you, Lord Hyunjin, she and I have met on one occasion and attended the same events a few times. Naturally, her chaperone wouldn’t let her anywhere near me at that point,” he added.
Hyunjin felt that new information fall into his stomach like a rock into a lake. He stayed still, his eyes still fixated on the stunning nighttime scenery painted by James Wright he stood by. The moon, and the light radiating from it, were absolutely stunning.
“I wouldn’t think she told you of the time we met,” Grover went on. “But I wish to congratulate you on your wedding, no matter how late. Have you been enjoying married life? Or is married life the reason you’re visiting the city? There are many reputable… tourist spots.”
Hyunjin clenched his jaw, focusing on the details of the painting. Each leaf was painted in detail, it seemed, giving the impression they were swaying in a soft breeze. Was he crazy, or was this man taunting him?
“We’re here for business, Lord Grover,” Changbin responded in his place. “I must say, Lord and Lady Hwang form a strong pair.”
“Seconded,” Christopher added. “Lord Grover, is that what I think it is?”
Christopher pretended to be fascinated by an antique chair in a corner, giving Hyunjin some respite. He was doing everything he could to stay calm, only, he could never be calm when it was about you. He didn’t like that you had met this guy before. When exactly? And in what circumstances?
Why hadn’t you told him?
He forced himself to take a deep breath. Of course, you couldn’t possibly have listed every person you ever met. The reason Hyunjin never heard about him, most likely, was that the encounter wasn’t particularly significant. Right?
Before he could finish ruminating over this, the short tour of the dining room was over. “Teddy, they really wanted to see the katanas,” Jungkook said with a smirk.
“With all due respect, Lord Jungkook,” Christopher began, a playful smile on his face, “I believe you expressed quite a lot of excitement at the idea yourself.”
“I swear to god these guys don’t give me a single break.” Jungkook sighed dramatically. It was at that moment that Isaki made a second appearance.
“Tea is ready, my lords,” he said, dipping his head and keeping his eyes on the ground. “The parlor is this way.”
“We’ll dine in the parlor if you gentlemen don’t mind,” Lord Grover explained. “It’s a simple, casual meal, and I’d much rather we all make ourselves comfortable.” He paused, his big, dark eyes dancing from him, to Jungkook, and back to him. “Lords Jungkook and Hyunjin—my mother expressed the wish to meet you. She is aging and very ill, so she will not be joining us for supper.”
No matter how upset he was, Hyunjin could only feel empathy for that fact. He knew that a son never really got over the loss of his mother—and Theodore had lost his father about ten years ago or so, becoming Earl when he was only twenty-one. He could relate to that, no matter how untrusting he was of the man.
“Of course,” Jungkook said at once. “Teddy, tell me—has her condition worsened?”
Grover gave him a nod, a grave expression on his face. “The doctor says she doesn’t have much time left. At the risk of sounding heartless, I have to admit I’d rather it didn’t last for too long. There is no need for suffering when there is nothing to gain from it.”
“I’m terribly sorry to hear this.” Hyunjin dipped his head politely. “Let’s go meet her so that she can rest for the night afterward.”
“Isaki, can you please show Lord Christopher and Mister Changbin to the parlor? Don’t wait up, too—drink the tea while it’s hot.”
The group parted in two halves and Hyunjin followed Theodore into a narrow corridor to the left. Jungkook walked with them, the three of them remaining quiet, out of respect. Hyunjin couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his chest, like a darkness looming, and he didn’t like it. He tried to blame it on Jungkook’s insane stories about those parties he attended with Grover, only that didn’t help much.
They quickly reached their destination, which was a large bedroom in which Theodore’s mother lay on a single bed. The rest of the room was furnished with couches and armchairs, suggesting the woman was accustomed to welcoming guests into this room. It was dark at first, so Hyunjin helped Theodore when he lit up a few oil lamps.
“Hello, Mother,” he told her as he brought one of the lamps to her bedside table. “Were you sleeping? Our guests are here.”
The woman was thin and her skin was pale with a waxy aspect to it. Her son helped her sit up in her bed while Hyunjin and Jungkook waited politely behind. She seemed rather unwell yet she gave Theodore a smile when he adjusted her pillows. The entire room smelled like illness and camphor.
“Lady Grover.” As the eldest, Jungkook spoke first, going as far as getting on one knee.
Hyunjin mirrored him, out of respect for the woman who was visibly at the end of her life. “Good evening, Lady Grover.” Her hair was somewhere between gray and copper, but it was dull and frizzy, lacking care and health.
It took quite a while for her to say anything—by the time he and Jungkook were standing upright again, she was squinting, staring at both of them intensely as if she was trying to decode them. Theodore remained by her side but let her speak first.
Then, finally, her gaze came to a stop, lingering on Hyunjin. “By god, Teddy, he looks exactly like him.” She brought a weak, shaky hand over her shriveled, dry lips. “Come closer, young man. Please.”
Hyunjin was aware of the way Jungkook was gawking at him from the side, only he was too preoccupied to try and translate his body language. It wasn’t the first time such a scene occurred and yet he despised it every single time. He would sometimes be at an event, having dinner with clients, and a complete stranger would come up to him to strike up a conversation, mentioning how they knew exactly who he was because he looked so much like his father.
But he knew better than to disrespect a lady like her, so he crossed the room, coming to stand next to Lord Grover. He couldn’t find a single thing to say.
“Oh, heavens!” Lady Grover’s eyes filled up with tears and unrest took control of him, the weight of this invisible, impending doom now tangible in the air. “Closer, young man, let me see you.”
He didn’t initially react—too surprised by the situation, Hyunjin stood there, quiet, the gears of his mind going faster with each passing second. At that moment, he remembered that fateful visit to Jeon Manor a few months ago and coming face to face with Lady Myeong in a hallway, moments before dinner. The look on her face had been quite unforgettable, like she had just seen a ghost. You have your father’s eyes, Lord Hwang, she had told him. And his allure, too.
Hyunjin twisted his neck, searching for Jungkook’s eyes, trying to see if he was thinking the same thing he was. And by the looks of it—he was, indeed, sharing his fear.
Before he knew it, Lady Grover grabbed his hands, squeezing them in hers. Nothing about the gesture was inherently wrong—she held him lovingly, even, and he didn’t mind the cold of her skin or the fact that he could feel her bones through her flesh. It was the look on her face that frightened him.
“Oh, truly…” He lowered himself closer to the woman, unsure of what to do. Big tears were rolling down her bony cheeks. “You might just be even more handsome than he was, but it’s undeniable,” she told Hyunjin. “I have missed your father every day since the last time he and I were together.”
He heard footsteps behind him—Jungkook had come closer yet remained at the back respectfully.
“They all said such atrocious things about him,” Lady Grover went on, her shoulders shaking with her cries. “But they didn’t know him like I did.”
“My father made bad decisions,” Hyunjin conceded. That had been a response that Christopher taught him when both of them were still young Back then, Hyunjin was under his tutelage after his father’s death.
She shook her head. “No, child. They did not understand him. How could they understand him when he never let them see his true colors? The colors of his spirit?”
She looked somewhere behind him. “You too, Lord Jeon. You have the eyes and the cheekbones.”
She was jumping from one topic to another and yet making her point very, very clear, without having the need to speak it out loud. It was obvious that this woman had known his father intimately. Very much so. How many women like her were there?
“Nobody knew him better than I did,” she let go of Hyunjin’s hands, gesturing weakly at the empty space by her bed. “They took him away from me. Away. I didn’t have a choice.”
Her cries intensified, causing a violent episode of coughing—Hyunjin retreated while Theodore attempted to help his mother drink some water. A couple of nurses rushed into the room, asking them to leave. Stunned, Hyunjin’s feet managed to get him out of the room but he stopped when he found himself in the hallway with Jungkook and Theodore.
“What’s the meaning of this, Teddy?” Jungkook inquired. He looked upset and he wasn’t easily moved, which said a lot about the gravity of the situation.
“I heard so much of this Lord Hwang after my… father passed,” Grover said with a shrug. “It only made sense to me that my mother met his son while she still can.” The intonation with which he said the word son didn’t please Hyunjin. “Thank you for indulging her. Shall we join the others for dinner?”
Hyunjin walked slowly, staying behind, deep in his thoughts. The implications of his short encounter with Lady Grover were quite evident. She had clearly known him intimately—in a way nobody else, not his mother, not himself, had. The new piece of information left him speechless, although Hyunjin knew he ought not to be surprised by it. How many mistresses did he have? Did they all believe he loved them? That he wasn’t using them?
How many illegitimate children had he fathered?
He could not stop staring at Theodore now, not even after they reached the parlor and sat down on plush armchairs around a coffee table covered with food. It wasn’t just in the way he looked. It was in the way he held himself too, and the shape of his mouth when he smiled. It was unequivocal though, and he could not unsee it. The deep shade of brown of his eyes and his honeyed skin.
Hyunjin spoke very little and ate even less, letting the others fill the conversation and only talking when directly spoken to. He was trying to put his thoughts in order. He was trying to convince himself he had nothing to fear from Theodore Grover—that should they have the same father, there would be no consequences to it.
The plates of food got emptied and maids came to clean up the table while Isaki was serving scotch, but Hyunjin was still trying to imagine all of the ways he could harm him, should the earl decide to. It would make no sense to even tryanything. Hyunjin’s estate prospered well, sure, but if Grover somehow came after him, claiming to be a Hwang, he would lose everything. His title, his land. Hell, his reputation too.
As the other men drank, Hyunjin sat there, wondering what would compel Grover to claim anything he owned as his.
The response came to him when Theodore invited them to follow him to his roofed terrace. He liked to smoke a cigar after dinner, apparently. “And Jungkook knows I get the best imported cigars,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, because you control the docks.” Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“If that’s alright with you, Lord Grover,” Chris began, “I’ll stay behind. I have no wish to smoke any cigars, and I do enjoy looking at your stunning collection here.”
Grover nodded. “Of course. Then perhaps I should ask the entertainment to come in now instead of later?” He turned to his steward who was standing quietly in a corner of the room. “Isaki, get them.”
The women entered the room as Theodore was grabbing his smoking paraphernalia from a drawer. Five of them—no, six. Young and obedient, they listened to the earl’s command when he asked them to stand in a row before them.
Hyunjin averted his gaze, fighting a strong spell of nausea. He had to get out of here. He had to get the fuck away from this man.
“Choose whichever you like, gentlemen,” Grover said with a smirk. “They’re all quite skilled—I tested them, so I’d know.”
A very heavy and uncomfortable silence grew in the room. It felt like Hyunjin had something stuck in his throat preventing him from breathing as much air as he needed. He hated this. It wasn’t even the first time such a thing happened, but it was the first time since, well, you.
His unease did not stem from a desire to spend time with any of the prostitutes. What he feared was that you would hear something that you wouldn’t like and that you wouldn’t believe him if he told you nothing had taken place. He couldn’t bear to lose you.
He couldn’t bear to hurt you. Not any more than he already had.
“I’m leaving.” Hyunjin stood, the words escaping him before he could really think about it. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Grover, but I will return to the hotel.” He was quite certain that both Christopher and Changbin would follow him.
He was right—they stood, too. But before they could speak, Grover turned to them, making his way towards the girls, all of which wore excessively revealing clothes.
“You don’t have to worry about a thing, Lord Hwang,” he uttered slowly. “I heard of your… unique tastes. I requested Mindy here especially for you. Right, sweetheart?” Pushing open the loose robe she was wearing, he revealed her belly, small but round—she was visibly with child.
“Lord Grover!” Christopher started, but Hyunjin raised his hand to quiet him.
With a calmness he didn’t know in himself, Hyunjin reached into the pocket of his blazer to find his gold. Ignoring Grover, he crossed the room, giving each woman a substantial amount of money. “Thank you, ladies,” he said politely. “I believe this pays for your evening and more. You may leave.”
They all looked at each other, visibly frightened, but Hyunjin did not look away from Grover’s eyes, who was staring back with a defiant expression on his face. It took quite a while before he told them, “You heard the man. Leave. I’ll simply let your madam know that she ought to send me something better next time I host these guests.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Hyunjin retorted as the women quickly scuttled out of the room. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lord Grover. I shall pray for your mother.”
Without waiting for a response, Hyunjin turned his heels and walked away. To his surprise, Jungkook was also going after him as well as Christopher and Changbin.
“You haven’t even asked me how I met her,” Lord Grover exclaimed with a joyless laugh. “Your wife. I wish you had at least asked me, I was dying to tell you.”
Hyunjin stopped right in his tracks, very well aware that he ought to be better than this. That he ought to display more class than this bastard.
“Let’s go,” Changbin muttered through gritted teeth, but Hyunjin did not budge.
He faced Grover once again. “You met her. What about it?” he asked him. “My wife is quite remarkable, I’ll agree—I understand how she would have made a strong impression on you. My lord.”
“Oh, she is remarkable. And grew into a radiant, exquisite young woman, no doubt.” Grover chuckled, but Hyunjin’s anger was slowly rising within him, reaching dangerous levels. “I went for a visit to her family’s villa, you see, with my parents. She was still a young girl, properly trained and yet feral. I knew she would never be fully tamed. I noticed her for it, of course. She showed up to the villa barely an hour before the feast would be served, her hands dirty, her hair sticky and messy with honey.”
He leaned against the wall behind him, crossing his arms over his chest, acting out a little too dramatically in his pondering man pose.
“In any case. First thing I hear after dinner is how her mother wishes to break off her betrothal to a certain Lord Hwang. Her mother comes to my mother, and I just so happen to be in the next room over, from which Mother calls me and asks if I would be inclined to offer this young lady a proper home, should I take her as my wife. What was I to say? I liked her, as undomesticated as she might have been. Too bad her father—”
Hyunjin didn’t hear the rest of his story. He had thrown himself at Grover before he could utter even one more word. His fist closed around the velvet of his collar. His other fist slammed into that classless bastard’s face. There were shouts behind him, even hands trying to grab at him, but Hyunjin did not let go of Grover, not even as he retaliated and punched him back a few times.
He did not register the impacts as pain. He did not register them at all, and yet Grover got him square on the lips, almost breaking some teeth in the process, and got his nose, too. How could he. How dare he keep a memory of you at all? You were not his to remember. He was nothing to you.
Hyunjin pinned him against the wall, hard enough that the back of Grover’s head hit it, dizzying him momentarily. He had a few weak attempts at punches but Hyunjin dodged them all. Had he ever truly wished to be engaged to you? Had he used those hands to give himself pleasure with the thought of you on his mind?
“If you touch my wife—” Hyunjin groaned when the taste of blood invaded his mouth. He spit on the ground at Grover’s feet, holding him at the wall with his forearm against his throat. “If you touch even one strand of her hair, if you dare put your foul eyes on her even just once. You’ll regret it. You’ll fucking regret it—”
Hyunjin’s threats were cut short when Christopher successfully pulled him away from Grover.
“Take him outside,” Changbin told Chris as though he wasn’t even there. “Don’t let him come back here.”
His soul didn’t feel like it was quite tethered to his body. He had very little control over the slander and threats he shouted on his way outside, held firmly by Christopher. Not even the cold night air calmed him down, not his friend’s pleas, and certainly not reason.
The only thing he remembered was you and the secret promise he had made.
He meant it. He would die before he let anything get in between you two again.
... to be continued.
Author’s note: Where do I even begin? I looked at the date of the last release of this story and just… What can I say. To those who are here today, reading this—thank you. Thank you for being so patient and for understanding the stupid ways my inspiration works. Thank you for urging me to prioritize my health. I realize now that it’s a lot because I do feel safe taking my time, resting, etc that I’m able to write happily. This chapter was challenging and a lot of it was by pure fear to disappoint my faithful readers. I hope it was at least a little satisfying. I’m very glad to be releasing this today.
Thank you to those who reblog, who send messages, who interact meaningfully. It is thanks to you that I’m still on here and that my stories aren’t confined to my computer. Please know that your kindness goes a long way for me and to other authors as well. It’s appreciated and it motivates me every day. Lots of love 🤍
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More Posts from Valreifang and Others
"Forever"
✰—-summery: seungmin has been realizing that he wants a forever with you. Honestly in whatever way you’ll have him. And maybe little domestic things like kisses on cheeks, lacing fingers a shared lived in home and a big ass ring on your finger, but now so overcome with love, he’s coming to realize he also wants to breed you. He knows no kids are on the radar for now… but a guy can have a fantasy right? And a guy can dream right?
✰--- approx: 30 min read
✰--- A/n i really have noting to say. I’m gonna continue my smutober series in the coming couple weeks yall trust 🙏🏼I have a few more smut fics that I’ll be getting to over the next couple weeks so think of it as an expansion of my lil smutober;)
✰— warnings/info: kissing, smut with sort of a plot ig, cursing, fluffy lovey dovey, tooth rotting fluff basically, breeding kink, raw fucking (do as I say not as I do wrap before u tap yall) ummm sex dream? As always bad spelling. Think that’s it
~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper.” This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~
if you don’t have an age indicator saying you’re not a minor in your blog then I will be blocking you! So minors dni!!
•••••••••••••••••••••
Seungmin can't count how many times hes fallen in love with you. from every time you laugh to the way you smoothed our your shirt that one time and have never done it since but for some reason hes been thinking about for two months.
hes a guy of repetition. he likes having a routine, he loves that youre a part of it. and for him, thinking about you is always a part of it. but so much so that he sometimes finds himself daydreaming and distracted, he should be embarrassed, having to ask people to repeat themselves because "oh wow y/n likes that shade of green that they're wearing" but he really doesn't care. but at the same time you make him work that much harder. make him want to do better to either make you proud or impress you like some eighth grader he doesn't know.
he loves his job, he really does, but all he wants to do sometimes is come home to you. it makes him not only work faster sometimes but harder. maybe because he wants to be good enough and worthy for you and your love or maybe just because you bring that side out of him more than it already is. whatever it is he knows you just make him better. and its cheesy and mushy but you really do complete him
his arm looks better when you hold it, his pictures feel empty when youre not beside him, and you feel the same way too-- the bed always is unreasonably cold when he isn't behind you holding you close to his heart. or when hes not inside you, lets be honest.
he laughs at the members when they tease him about you having "girlfriend privileges". and tells him he doesn't see it. but at first he really didnt. now he sees it so well he hears it. he prides himself in making you happy, being the best boyfriend he can. thats one of the things you love about him he takes everything on with a passion, devoted to his goals.
sure he still pokes fun at you and is a lovely little menes but lets be real he lovey dovy with you a lot of the times too! and you get away with so much more with a lovesick puppy look on his face than anyone else. he wouldn't go all aspiring poet and say youve changed him but youve just... brought out another side of him. and as much as he gives you hard time you both know he loves it.
and you secretly love it when he says ew when you kiss him then he tackles you peppering your face with them a mintute later
the slight obsession with you is borderline concerning he thinks at this point-- once someone flirted with him at a bakery and the only thing he could think about was how they were standing in front of that dessert he knew you liked and he politely just asked them to move cause "I think Im gonna buy that for my parter I want to take a closer look". needless to say the person got the message.
though he didn't even fully realize they were flirting with him until he told you the story of how "a week ago when I was at that bakery someone was talking to me but I wasn't paying attention cause they were standing in front of the cold case." he though they were, with the over the top smiles and that little giggle. but sadly he was easily distracted by the thought of how "yn would like this"
The downside to how much he thinks of you is that at some point during the day if he isn't careful hes gonna get half hard. he feels like some pre pubescent boy that can't control himself and he hates it. nevertheless, the girlfriend privileges continue-- with the playful banter between you two and how much you tease him. not many other people could get away with poking seungmin in the cheek and saying "poke" for a full minute without him saying something.
in fact, hes smiling.
and not that youre complaining one bit when sees you after a long day and pounces on you, trying to rip your clothes off. but make no mistake, as stated before hes soft for you. well, mentally at least, cause most of the time he can't seem to control his boner around you. but all this overwhelming feelings of love has to go somewhere... right?
and it just so happens to be expressed and poured out so wonderfully in bed. you think you noticed it before he did, but there has been a pattern with him as of late--
it all started with a team a out you. noting too out of the ordinary. you started on top of him, as he helped you bounced on his cock, so hard and leaking for you. somehow you needed up beneath him after you came, but seungmin wasn't done yet, still pumping into you, somehow deeper than before trying to reach spots he never breached. "damn I love you so much. mhm, gonna fill you up" he breaths out in his dream. your eyes rolled into the back of your head in pleasure, "you gonna put a baby in me? please?" you moan, cupping his cheek and holding his hand in such a sweet and domestic way that it should offset the way he was filling you up with his cum, slipping out of you then plugging your pretty hole with his fingers, thrusting anything that leaked out back in. gotta make sure it takes right? make sure you get nice a round a swollen in a few months
but it didnt, the look of pure love you gave him as he was babbling about breeding you? fuck that really got to him. dream you wanted this too? dream you loved and trusted him so much and wanted forever with him just as he did with you? So when he woke up, still hard and cum leaving a dark stain on his boxers. he didnt know what to do. usually he'd know the answer or honestly go to you to help him. but this was... different, uncharted territory. sure there was always the thought of something like this in the back of his mind but it was never this strong. let alone had he ever had a dream about it.
He turns to the clock, 3:43 sharp and after tossing and turning, flipping his pillow over three times and realizing it felt better on the first side he still can’t fall asleep. He lets his eyes graze over your sleeping still figure, you’re faced away from him body covered by the blanket. But the curves and dips of your are still visible. It’s dark but he feels like he can still see you so clearly. He could probably feel every bit of your too over that thin little blanket. If you could even call it that I mean it wasn’t really doing much to warm you he was sure. That’s when he pulled you close by your middle, pressing your back up to is chest, his fingers dipping under your shirt like it always does when you two cuddle (though when you’re awake it sometimes slides higher than others) god your skin was cold.
He subconsciously moved you closer moving his hips flush with your ass. Though in hindsight that might’ve not been the best idea. Seeing as he was now fully hard from his dream and your body settling into his wasn’t doing him any good. “Min?” Did you really have to call him that right now? But against his better judgement since it very much was 3 am in the morning right now, he stayed glued next to you. “Min?” For once he fumbles, “yeah?” “I know you’re awake.” He bends his neck down to peck the top of your head “doesn’t mean you have to—“ “thank you, I was a little cold” you interrupt him while turning your body around to face him, hooking a leg over his”
well if you didn’t know before now you do. He thinks. “I was already half awake don’t worry,” he sighs “I figured” you smile at the fact that by now he knows all your little ins and outs all your little quirks. “You we’re kinda loud” you chuckle, and before he gets a chance to respond you’re reaching over him to turn on the light, it’s something so mundane so normal but somehow he’s still enamored by you. And with the way you’re basically on top of him, titties in his face he’s not getting soft anytime soon. “I think you’re hearing things.” He playfully scoffs “I think I should schedule you an ear appointment. My grandma knows a good one, maybe you can get matching hearing aids” you chuckle “and I think you still have a hard on”
that shut him up quick enough. you smile to yourself, you swear the man was all bark no bite sometimes when it came to you. seungmin glances over to the clock again. "sweetheart its so late its early..." he mumbles, sliding a not so sneaky little hand up your torso. his hands finds the side of your breast, then your collar bone, then settles back down on the neckline of your sleep shirt, playing with it.
"your dream sounded interesting," you peck his cheek and he flushes as if he didnt just dream about pumping you full of cum a second ago, "what was it about?" you ask, ignoring his comment about the time. you lace your fingers with his and he brings your hand with him under the blanket, settling it on his now painfully hard feeling cock straining against his boxers without a word, just that mischievous little devils grin.
you peck his lips this time, seungmin craining his head to chase you, lips still slightly smelling of that chapstick you always put on before bed. his tasting salty like the light sheen of sweat that coats his face from his dream. though you plan on making him much hotter in the next coming minutes. he pulls you back down to his lips by the back of your neck. a gentle but firm touch that mad you go crazy. the kisses are needy, lustful, but somehow also full of pure love and passion. he doesn't quite know how to express all the good that he feels for you, he isn't sure he ever will, but whenever he kisses you like this of late, he hopes his feelings will get through to you.
and you feel the emotion he pours into it when it happens, you really do. he pulls away a little later, never tired of kissing you and hand down in-between your legs rubbing your soaking pussy. "I just" he smiles through his gasps of air, "love you so much" it was sad really, that that was all he could say but he felt something for you that words cannot express in the English language, or Korean, or any language hes come across.
his eyes look like that one begging emoji. he just... he needs you to understand. he doesn't know why he just blurted it out. but you had just made this cute little face of pleasure. pleasure he was giving you. you felt good because of him. and it had just slipped out!
you didnt realize how much you wanted him, how desperate you were until in a matter of minutes youre gasping and whining for him. "fuck, breed me, make me yours" you say, barely over a whisper into his ear, chin on his shoulder. your sleep shirt bunched up around your hips that raped around his, his arms are laced behind your back, hugging you a keeping you close chest to chest as you bounce and rock yourself on his dick. so caught up in the moment, he misses the smirk on your face when you said it, blissfully unaware that you knew full well what he was dreaming about. and how hot you found it.
he whines, "no dont say that youre gonna make me cum... not--" he breaths out when your cunt tightens around him just so, "not now--" he already had you close to cumming earlier, when he was guiding your wt heat along his leg, grinding you on him. but he wanted to take care of you first ya know? be a gentleman. but he knew he wasn't going to last long if you kept talking like that. he reaches down to your core and swollen bud, rubbing it just how you like.
"well fill me up then min." you accentuate your words with a long, languid rock of yourself on him, his leaking cock hitting just where you want him to. god you feel so full, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head thinking about how full you'd feel with all his warm seed inside you.
"no baby please dont say that either." his voice is strained, his words are lazy unlike how he usually sounds. thats hw you knew he was already close. "no please, I wanna feel so full." you pout, and his mind goes almost blank. he moves his free hand to your hip bone, guiding you as you impale yourself on his cock ever time you lift up and slam back down. though he wasn't really doing much guiding as he was mostly enjoying the soft squeeze of your skin, fingers on your plush thighs. he subconsciously nibbles at your collarbone, surely it'll leave a mark later you said you wanted him to make you his right?
"but you already have my cock in you baby. dont you feel it?" he wonders aloud, meeting your pumps up n' down with renewed vigor. "its so hard for you, god you make me so hard" you still your movements, letting him do most of the work thrusting up into your pussy, making wet squelching noises that fill the room.
"mmhm so big n' hard. cum inside me? I know you'd fill me up so good."
"oh god." that nearly sent him over the edge. you look down to where your bodies meet and his hand is rubbing you, fuck his hand looks delicious, fingers perfectly long and hand with veins popping out. "I need you to cum with me." and not long later you do. you cm hard, knees shaking and out of breath. you'd asked him to cum inside and thats what he does. you feel your insides flood with warmth. damn he must've cum a lot.
he stays inside for a moment and is about to pull out when you stop him, hand on his bicep, "keep it inside." you tell him, and this time he catches your smirk. And seungmin just laughs, kissing your neck in a manner so sweetly you almost forget about his dick inside you. “You heard my dream?” Though he already knew. “Mmhm” “I love you so much” his nose presses into your neck “I wanna spend forever with you” “aw me too min” “hm was it good for you then too?” “So you didn’t hear me moaning for you? Guess not” you tease and he scoffs. “I did. And I think the neighbors heard too. We’ll have to talk more in the morning and do some googling I guess. But thank you” “you’re thanking me now?” You laugh. “Yeah I—“ “I think it’s hot too don’t worry. That’s why I want you to stay inside. We want it to take huh baby” he shivers, running his palm up your spine.
seungmin was a reasonable guy, he knew that this was alll fantasy and having kids wasn't on your radar right now. but he still loved it. He didn’t know what it was, maybe it was just you two growing together, growing intertwined. But as of late, he’s just been wanting or maybe finally realizing just how much he loves and cares for you. how much he wants with you. seungmin hasn't really thought of it before, but maybe he wants and already cherishes those cute little things with you-- like the kisses on cheeks when one of you greet the other at the door, the waking up next to each other at dawn, and everything in-between.
and maybe one day, if you'll let him, he wants to put a big ass ring on your finger. well, some day.
and you loved it too. And him. The way he took his time with you no matter what it is no matter if he already did it a thousand times. Just like a second ago, he caressed every curve and did of your body. Constantly wanted his hands on you, kissing from your neck to your lips over and over.
“Why are you so silent? Don’t you want it too honey?” He smiles from ear to ear “ugh sweetheart you’re amazing” he mumbles before kissing your lips.
~end
thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed please leave some love like comments or a reblog if you did!
★ ── LE SEXE, JE VEUX DIRE !
what happens when you give the hyung line an aphrodisiac 。 。 。?
꒰୨୧ ꒱ pairing。stray kids hyung line x fem!reader genre。 pure smut , pwp warnings。 aphrodisiacs , sex while intoxicated , breeding kink , primal play , vaginal fingering , oral (m. rec) , deepthroat , unprotected sex , creampies , masturbation (m. rec) , phone sex , diy porn , sex while filming
a/n ⸝⸝ requested skz version of my txt drabble! i’m lowkey not a big fan of this… but here it is anyway lol. [ 1. 0k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]
𝔅ANGCHAN
chris is completely sure the aphrodisiac candies you purchased wouldn't do a thing, just a silly marketing gimmick printed all over the foil packaging he turned over in his hands. but you had gotten them as a surprise, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt your feelings– so he casts aside his doubts and eats his share with a smile, ready to put on his best show of pretending to be affected. he wouldn't even be really acting, since you can get him going no matter what... yet to his complete shock reduced to a mess within minutes, panting and squirming above you, his hips canting up to press the swell of his clothed cock against the curve of your ass. his control slips when you grind back against him, pussy drunk and unable to think of anything other than fuck, claim, breed as he flips you over and mounts you like an animal. he’s definitely having you get more of these.
𝔐INHO
minho’s immediate response to you showing him the chocolates was to scold you for wasting money on worthless placebos. there was no way you believed that they would actually do anything, right? but he eats them with you anyway, because you’re very persuasive when you’re pouting. he’ll tell you they did nothing for him at all, as he’s knuckle deep in your pussy, your hot little mouth swallowing his cock to the hilt. he didn’t feel a thing, as he’s lining up his weeping tip to your entrance. he’s completely unaffected, watching with dark hazy eyes as his thick cum leaks out of your hole. those stupid chocolates had nothing to do with how he fucked you until the sun came up. and you let him believe it, because it gives you an excuse to try it again.
𝓒HANGBIN
changbin always finds some way to derail your plans… you had hidden some aphrodisiac chocolates your had bought in hopes of surprising him with them later, but you were never the best at hiding things— your boyfriend finds them within the first day. mistaking them for regular candy, he eats them without a thought; and hours later he calls you desperately from the studio, hiding in the bathroom with his pants around his knees as he fists his aching cock. the lewd wet sounds echo against the tile and harmonize with his pretty low moans, all filtering directly into the phone’s speaker and making your pussy throb. “i need you so bad,” he whimpers, his hand speeding up, “need your pussy so bad…” detailing in a needy groan every nasty little thing he planned to do to you once he got home, the growl in his voice enough to make your legs shake. you hated to ruin the mood, but you just had to know; “binnie, did you eat those chocolates in the pantry?” “um… maybe?”
𝓗YUNJIN
the candies were his idea, actually— he figured they were a perfect addition to the films he liked to make. you couldn’t even call them sex tapes, with how careful and artistic hyunjin was in filming them… but he loved to film often, and was always coming up with new ways to keep things new and exciting. sharing candies between kisses on camera, hands wandering as you lay tangled together on the hotel bed. the both of you growing hotter and needier as time went on, gentle caresses turning into rough manhandling, tugging at each other’s clothes til you were both bare in eachother’s arms. hyunjin looks straight into the camera with a smirk as he flips you over onto your hands and knees, your face buried in the pillow to muffle your scream when he slides his thick long cock into your wet pussy with one firm thrust. he reaches over to pick the camera up off of it’s tripod, angles it down so it gets a clear view of your asscheeks bouncing against his abs from the force of his thrusts, his big hand pressing down on your arched back as his cock splits your creamy cunt open. neither of you last as long as usual, deeply affected by the aphrodisiac and desperate for release— he makes sure to get the best possible angle of him pulling out and cumming on your ass, pearly white ropes of cum decorating your flushed skin like a painting. you’re his favorite work of art, and he just can’t get enough of showing it off.
curious of you
pairing ot8 stray kids (seperate) x fem reader synopsis in which the dads successfully get seducedᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ⊹cw/ tw suggestive, borderline smut, alcohol, taboo situations, pet names, cheating, mentions of sexting, smut (hyunjin’s) food play with whipped cream, oral fixation, nipple play, mentions of fingering, talks about cunnilingus, lowkey smut (felix’s) foot job, kinda public sex, mentions of a vibrator, smut (jeongin’s) blow job, spit kink wc 10k +
library
mocha note it’s been two days and i’m already on a part three of these helwsjk, can you tell that I love seungmin LMFAO, also the edit i’m referring to for jeongin’s is linked here
୨୧ bang chan
Chan was confused
He couldn’t wrap his head the idea of Y/n genuinely, a young woman in her twenties being interested in him, a man with two kids and hair that was more than likely soon to be fully gray before the decade ended, and like he always did when his overthinking got the best of him, he pulled away, abrupt and hard
Y/n really couldn’t understand why he pulled away, she thought it was clear that she really did like him, pepper hair, two kids and all, but she understood, she wasn’t the older one in the situation, she would feel the same way if the roles were reversed so she did the only thing she could do, wait
Unlike the boys in my age group, I found myself getting to know Chan for a person, and not for what was in his pants, he believed in making genuine connections with a person before even crossing the line of sexual. I soft sigh bubbled past my lips at how intimate he was, he never did anything ultimately sexual in nature, but his firm hands gripping onto my arm to prevent me from falling, or the way he held my hand while simply staring into my eyes
Chan was a man of many love languages, one being physical touch, in our private studying times in his office, his hands was always somewhere on my body, it didn’t matter, they could be kneading my thigh, or intertwined with mine, while reading the textbook to me so that I would understand it better
Not to mention the phone calls we used to have before he did a complete 180, no good morning texts, no texts making fun of my assignments, and no contact in real life either, when I came in early for my Friday lecture, he simply ignored me and threw himself into making assignments for the next month instead
I rolled my eyes at the thoughts of him flooding my mind even though I promised myself that I would give him space, if he was confused about how he wanted to handle things with me, I wasn’t going to interfere, the phone works two ways and when he was ready to act like the man he was, I would be there to console him
“Fuck this”
I immediately walked into my closet, deciding to head to a bar since I had no classes tomorrow, and a bit of soju never hurt when I found myself overthinking. My once clean roomed turned into a jungle of clothes and shoes strewn wildly against any crevice possible, I had an outfit in mind, and I couldn’t find the perfect bra to pair it with
Fifteen minutes of searching, I later found it in my dirty clothes hamper, making me scream at how unlucky my life was at the moment, but the good thing about me was that I always had a back up, and my back up came in the form of a strapless black tube dress and a pair of chanel heels my mother gotten me for my twenty first birthday a couple years back
I stepped out into the living room of the apartment I shared with my younger brother, my purse and flats in hands “I’m going out Jakey, don’t stay up too late for me” My younger brother scoffed and asked why would he wait up for me, he didn’t care that much, I giggled and raised my middle finger in retaliation and before he could say anything else, I was already out of the front door and walking to my car nearly parked in our drive way
“Have fun tonight Y/n, don’t let him ruin this for you” I didn’t know why I was reminding myself, deep down I knew that he ruined any man who wasn’t him for me, I knew that I would quickly find the bar boring, heading home before I could even explore my options, he was that important to me
Thoughts of Chan began to dwindle as I finally arrived at the bar, heels clicking against the asphalt while my body swayed, cat walking into the ever lively bar, the moment I stepped in, I knew I caught the attention of some people, but they weren’t interesting, they weren’t him
Loud music reverberated against my ears, while the red and blue lights flashed violently in tandem, I made my way towards the bartender who recognized me and immediately got started on making me a whiskey sour, it wasn’t like I enjoyed whiskey, but it wasn’t a soju type of night, and I wanted to feel tipsy
“Here you go madam, should I put that on your tab?” I shook my head, and pulled out the three hundred won the glass costed and thanked him, taking a seat on one of the chairs facing him. It hasn’t even been a minute, and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a guy, who looked to be about my age, approaching me
I let my eyes drift forward, trying to ignore the soon to be awkward encounter, but he took that as me being shy, and asked to buy me another drink “No thanks, I still have this one” I smiled sweetly thinking that it would be enough to get him to back off, but instead he shocked me by taking my glass and finishing it for me
“What drink, how about you let me buy you another one baby” My eyes deadpanned and I rolled my eyes “How old even are you” The male puffed up his chest and immediately replied with ‘21’ which made me ick faster than him snatching my drink did “And you cutie? How old are you”
“She’s too old for you”
Chan needed to de-stress, taking on grading multiple assignments so he wasn’t stuck daydreaming about a girl he was supposed to mentor taxed on his body a lot harder than it should’ve, so he found himself calling his ex wife asking if she could retrieve their sons just for the night and he would pick them up in the morning, being the nosy woman she was, she inquired about his reasons, to which he laughed and told her that he would see her in a few
After dropping off his sons at their mothers and having his ex wife interrogate him in person, he silently drove his car to his destination. Chan felt stuck, he couldn’t turn on his radio because every song reminded him of the woman he was currently avoiding, her beauty was was unmatched, he often found himself getting lost in her features more than not, her voice was a symphony, a symphony that warmed his heart and melted his walls
But that didn’t stop him from being scared, he’s been married once, and engaged three times, he’s sworn off on relationships, and now a college student has him rethinking his decisions. “I'm fucking screwed” images of Y/n smiling into his chest raided his mind and he arrived at the bar faster than he expected, having blanked most of the drive out because his mind was busy
Chan didn’t know what he was expecting when he had walked in, but he sure didn’t expect to see you, getting flirted with by a boy who he was sure was only trying to get into your pants, and before he knew it, he was on his way to make his presence known
My heart thumped wildly at the familiarity of the voice beside me and noticed Chan, of all people staring down the poor boy who walked off, claiming that I was too ugly for him anyway “Well hello to you too Chris” The older man didn’t say anything, but his eyes told me everything I needed to know, my hand left my lap and began to travel onto his thigh while maintaining eye contact “I missed you… a lot”
I didn’t mean to immediately be clingy, but with the way his eyes dilated, I knew it was well received “Y/n, let’s go” I arched my brow but allowed him to lead me out of the bar, all the way to his car. Chan opened the passenger door for me and as if he could read my mind, he told me he would drive me back later to retrieve my car when it was less busy, and we were less likely to be recognized
Only then did I remember that this wasn’t a random dude I met and fell for, this was my Chemistry teacher and a lot of things rode on us not being together, being in a relationship, he could lose his job, and I could lose the degree that I spent the last four years grinding for, but as his hand traveled dangerously from my thigh inwards, the repercussions started to seem worth it
Anything was worth it if it was for Christoper Bang’s heart, and as we messily made out in his car, parked in his driveway, I began thinking about what it would be like to stake my claim on him “I’m so fucking sorry Y/n, thank you for coming back to me, I just needed time to figure things out…” He trailed off but his eyes never left mine, and I smiled, cradling his face in my hands “My poor baby, I’ll always wait for you” He cursed under his breath and hastily opened his car door, just to appear next to the passenger side, opening my door and leading me inside his house
“I don’t deserve you” He was mumbling now, but the moment the door closed, he pinned me up against it, nipping against my skin, leaving a trail of heat in his movements “Baby, we deserve each other, we just met in an interesting predicament” He pulled away to chuckle against the skin of my neck before starting his ministrations again “We’re about to get in an even bigger one baby” Before I could question him, he took hold on my body and threw me over his shoulders as if I weighed nothing, proving that his muscles weren’t just for show
“And ‘m gonna show you how much I appreciate you”
୨୧ minho
I found myself stuck between a rock and a hard place, the rock being my morals, and a hard place being my little’s father. Minho obviously didn’t make it easier on me, despite never reaching the step of penetration, we indulged in many activities that should’ve made me feel guilty, but instead it made me feel ensnared by the trap of Lee Minho’s body
Of course he was fit, he worked out every morning at five o’clock, and he ate meals fit for kings, it also didn’t help that he aged like fine wine, one drunken night and a couple of sloppy kisses later and he was pulling out a photo album, complete with baby photos of his two daughters and himself, and he definitely had multiple glow ups despite never needing them
Young dad Minho had nothing on the Minho right now and I could only hope to age like him if I ever was ever given the chance to have children and a husband and Minho knew he looked good, having said so an eye- rolling amount of times. Lately I found myself sleeping in one of the Lee’s households guest rooms even after the kitchen was repaired, Minho said it was because he had a feeling it wasn’t fixed up to standard, but I knew that it was because he liked having me around
Tonight was no different, Minhee was bar hopping with a couple friends who I deemed responsible enough to hang out with, so I didn’t feel the need to go, and while she was out, doing young adult activities, her 10 year old sister Minju had decided to sleep over her moms since as apart of the divorce proceedings, Minho had her every weekday, and his ex wife, her mother had her for every other weekend, this weekend being one of them
So it was just Minho and I in the house together and the thought of that sent a chill up my spine, I checked my phone and saw that it was only 8 pm so Minho was either taking his shower since he took walks every day after dinner and since he ate while out at work, he had to wait until he got home to do so or taking his nap. I told him multiple times that he was getting old, having needed atleast one nap just to function through out the day
I hummed softly as my hands moved in a rhythm that was comfortable to Soonie since he was laying in my bed, purring softly as my fingers rubbed against his ears “Do you think that your daddy is asleep or in the shower” Of course the room went silent after I asked a literal cat about his opinion, but that didn’t stop me from taking his silence as an answer
“Me too Soonie, me too” The tabby cat immediately began stretching and then moved away, having gotten tired of the petting and wanted to be left alone “You’re just like your father Soonie” If the cat could understand me, he didn’t make it known, because like always he sat unbothered and simply ignored me
“Well since i’m hungry, ‘m gonna go fix me some food” I smacked my head against my forehead and groaned, it seemed that the longer I stayed at Minho’s house, the more I began talking to myself “I am literally going insane” I shrugged and then remembered that I was still in my clothes from earlier and should change into my pajamas
A devious grin etched onto my face as I raided the drawers of the guest rooms dresser for the pajama set I packed on a whim, it was sheer and a beautiful pastel mint, it was a tank top that appeared more like a bra than an actual tank top, but the shorts took the cake, literally, they were ruffled and cupped my ass nicely, letting the underside of my rear peak through just enough to invoke indecent thoughts from the father of two
I stepped out of my room, clad in the pajamas and a pair of rubber gripped fluffy socks since his house was majority hardwood and I refused to slip and fall in front of Minho, instead of helping, he would more than likely stand there and call me an idiot, making me feel even more embarrassed
My sock covered feet muffled the steps I took from my room, all the way into his kitchen, It was only 8:17 and I haven’t eaten all day, so fixing the leftover gamjaguk, that Minho had made for dinner yesterday seemed like the best option “Where the fuck did they put the ladle” I searched every drawer and noticed that the ladle I was looking for seemed to disappear from the kitchen, I frowned and dipped down to check one of the small cabinets closer to the floor
thwack
A loud squeal erupted from me causing me to jump due to the pain arising from the left side of my behind, a loud snicker from the culprit made me roll my eyes, and as I turned around, I was met by the grinning face of Minho “What the hell was that for” he chuckled and shrugged without moving his eyes away from me “Why not it was right there” I rolled my eyes and massaged the area where his palm connected and whined
“But it hurt” Minho cooed and placed his hand on the exact area where it hurt “I can make it feel better for you b-” He was cut off by the front door opening and immediately backed away, while I began searching for the ladle once again, not even thirty seconds later, Minhee walked into the kitchen and headed straight for the refrigerator, grabbing a water bottle, then giving her father a kiss on the cheek, having greeted her dad, she made her way to me and engulfed me in a large hug, and while I usually enjoyed her bear hugs, I felt nothing but deep guilt, even moreso since I was staring into the intense eyes of Minho, her father, right behind her back figuratively and literally.
She pulled away and immediately went to the fridge, and there was the ladle, literally sitting on a shelf in the fridge for no fucking reason “you have to be kidding me” Minhee and her father both looked at me, silently questioning me, to which I briefly the fiasco where I was searching for the ladle so I could enjoy leftovers only to come up empty handed “Oh my bad, I left it in there because I didn’t want to misplace it” I stared at Minhee and placed my thumb across my neck, slowly drawing it across in a threatening manner making the girl raise her hand in mock surrender and running to her room
I cursed mentally at how awkward the atmosphere had become, less than a couple of minutes ago, it was hot and heavy, I was literally about to get intimate with my friend’s father. Our eyes met and shared a secret that only we could understand, whatever we were doing it was wrong, his long slender legs slowly moved until they our thighs were plush together, his hands that rested themselves on my waist, more than likely knew my body better than my ex
“This is wrong” Minho nodded, his eyes never leaving mine “It is” I moved my hands to place the palms of them on his chest “We should stop” His hands began to travel south towards my ass and he nodded again “We should” For a few seconds we held eye contact that only got hotter the longer we stared, my hairs curled themselves in his hair and leaned in “This isn’t right Minho” he then leaned in, his breath tickling my ear “But it feels right”
And I was putty in his hands, gamjaguk forgotten as I undressed her father in the middle of the kitchen, while she was less than a few feet in her room, literally able to walk in at any moment “Be a good girl and keep it down” He kissed my jaw and sucked lightly drawing a harsh breath from me and then pulled away chuckling “Then again it’s me, not many people can keep quiet with me around”
I rolled my eyes and traced my finger against his god chiseled jaw “Well that’s big shoes to fill Mr. Lee, are you all talk or are you actually going to be able to back up your statements” The male smiled, tongue coming out to lick his lips while his hands worked on pulling the straps of my tank top down- drawing a sharp breath having felt the warmness of my collarbones with the tip of his fingers
“Keep being a good girl and you’ll be able to find out”
୨୧ changbin
It wasn’t hard to predict what was going on through Changbin's head, he always seemed present, but never present in the moment. Over the span of two whirlwind months, we've always been together, only separating when we have to work, or he has to go to the gym and it was to the point that Eunha had some of her things at my house since she was frequently over
Today Changbin decided to take Eunha and I out to the movies so that she could see inside out two, after the movie, he would have to drop Eunha off at her mothers house because his ex wide requested to have their daughter for a week, with a heavy heart he agreed and understood that whatever happened between the two of them had nothing to do with Eunha, and she deserved both parents in her life
While he agreed, that didn't mean that I couldn't pick upon how he really felt, so while Eunha was napping before we left out for the movies, I began massaging his shoulders "It’ll be okay Binnie, Eunha is still here, let’s just make sure you two have the best time before her send off” Even though my hands worked deftly to knead his shoulder “She only takes Eunha whenever it benefits her, I don’t know what she’s planning but I don’t want my daughter hurt” I nodded and trailed my hands up towards his hair, massaging the roots
“And since she has a wonderful father like you she, I know you won’t have to worry about that, besides she has no filter, so she’s definitely going to tell you every small detail that happens” I stopped and dipped my torso down, looking at him upside down and giggled “Let’s enjoy Eunha while she’s still here, she hasn’t left yet hon” I kissed his forehead and held his face in place since he had a tendency to look away
“Plus Eunha said she didn’t like her mom all that much, so you’ll probably have your princess back before the week ends” I placed a feathered kiss onto his nose and stood upright again, after a few more minutes of talking and coaxing him to relax, he was finally smiling again
“You’re so good to me Y/n what would I do without you” I shrugged and chuckled “Suffer, but it’s okay, I think we’re a good pair” I pat his shoulders and sat down on the couch beside him, laying on his shoulder enjoying the atmosphere between us
Ever since Eunha started asking me to come over a lot more, I always somehow found myself wrapped in her fathers embrace, and much to much dismay it never went farther, probably because Changbin didn’t really know how to go about flirting, and he didn’t want to make it weird, but I would let him put me in a headlock if he wanted
“You’re so cute like this Binnie” I placed my hand on his thigh and trekked it closer and closer until his breath hitched “You’re not slick Y/n” I lifted my head from his shoulder and put on the most innocent face that I could muster “But i’m not doing anything, absolutely nothing Binnie” My fingers trailed higher and were now playing with the strings to the waistband of his sweats, I toyed with them debating if I should untie them but before I could even decide what to do, he immediately straightened and pushed my hands away
“Hey wha-” His eyes were telling me to look behind me and only then did I remember that Eunha was still here and she called our names, signaling to us that she was awake and was in need of our attention, a knowing look painted his face and he stood up, awkwardly fixing his pants and opening his arms, waiting for his princess to jump into his arms
Eunha ran, but before she could reach he father’s open arms, she jumped onto the couch and straight into my lap, causing a grunted noise to wind through my chest “Hey baby, how was your nap” Changbin sulked about being denied by his own daughter, but she could care less “It was good, can we go to the movie now” I held her for a moment and asked her father should I began getting her ready and he shrugged, saying that he was going to get dressed and I should head over to mine so that I could as well
It was finally time for the movie, and we walked in, hands linked and Eunha on my hip, making people stare in admiration and or envy, my heart swelled at the idea of people thinking that I was a mother, or better yet, Changbin’s wife and I found that I liked the sound of that better than being his neighbor who hung out with his daughter occasionally
I wanted to be in their daily lives, and I wanted to be an important role in their lives like they would be mine. It was finally time to say goodbye to Eunha for a week and being honest, it hurt me too, my schedule began filling up with the beautiful girl. Tears welled up in my eyes and I couldn’t help but sniffle, the little girl even cried in my arms while her mother angrily watched on
“Are you okay Binnie?” It was silent on the way home to the apartments but I knew that he was focused on not being upset due to not being able to physically see his daughter for an entire week “I’m fine i’ll just miss my baby girl” His hand slipped down onto my thigh as the car slowed because the light turning red “Yeah?” He turned his head and held eye contact “Yeah” His hand inched dangerously closer, hesitating to go completely “M’kay” I took his hand and trailed it up myself
“My poor baby’s so needy that she’s tryna fuck herself against my fingers, while i’m driving? tch” I smiled and giggled, not hiding the fact that he was correct “Well get me home fast enough and I wouldn’t be this needy honey” He chuckled, driving one handedly since his less dominant hand was occupied, I wasn’t one for assuming things, but with the way he stepped on the gas, attempting to stay on the legal limit made me think that he was actually excited about fucking me, but it wasn’t me if I didn’t tease him through it
My fingers busied themselves with unzipping his pants palming him, and at every red light, I applied a bit of pressure “You’re hard baby, but i’m the needy one apparently” He ignored me, but with the way his jaw began tensing, I knew that I was in for it, not that I would want it any other way
୨୧ hyunjin
It was tense in the Hwang household, Somi was never home, making Hyunjin disappointed in his children’s mother, but that wasn’t the sole reason for the change in the house. Ever since his drunken confession that lead to the start of our cyber affair, he’s been trying hard not to step out of his marriage in front of his kids, outside we were nanny, and a tired father who had a mutual understanding of the lovely three kids
That still didn’t stop Hyunjin from initiating acts that showed me that whatever we talked about over text, was serious, I know I should’ve felt guilt having sent a video of me pleasuring myself to a married man with two kids and a baby that wasn’t even one yet, and I would’ve, had he not sent back a video of his release, moaning my name with it as his milky white orgasm coated his stomach and thighs
Careful touches that held their own conversations was now the norm between me and Hyunjin, touches as simple as our fingers accidentally touching after Hyori wanted to be passed between us sent signals through the both of us, it was wrong, but it was everything I wanted. We also started doing things for each other that would only make sense to us, I would walk around the house in his favorite colors, and he would do the same for me, even though my favorite was his least favorite, I also had a bath ready for him the moment he came home, no words had to be exchanged, we were on the same wavelength, even if that wavelength was a marriage ruining affair
“Something smells delicious” I looked up and gave the sweetest fake smile I could muster, Somi was finally home, and it was because Hyunjin’s mother requested her two grandsons for the weekend, Hyori would have went too had she not have started a new phase in which she began only wanting to be near me or her father when he came home from his job as a celebrity interior designer and a model
“Well I’m baking a cake, the boys asked for some and since I didn’t have time to while they were here so, i’m surprising them with one when they get back” I was making a chocolate cake, but the Hwang boys were vocal in their disdain for regular frosting, so I was in the middle of hand whipping chocolate whipped icing for the boys enjoyment
Somi’s face scrunched as she scoffed “Could you not have brought a cake? Why take on more work than you have to?” I shrugged, of course she wouldn’t get what it was like to see someone who you loved get excited over something you did for them, and since my love language was acts of service, I didn’t mind doing it, in fact I preferred it, but again, she wouldn’t understand anything that wasn’t her husbands pay check
“The boys don’t like store brought cake, and besides homemade is healthier” Somi began speaking about how she knew what was her sons liked since she was the one to give birth to them, so I bit my tongue, I was not about to start and argument with the woman who was married to the man I was a mistress to, that would make me a stereotypical mistress
“Well i’ll let you finish your unnecessary cake, I think you forgot that little boys eat anything and everything and they would most definitely not care if a cake was homemade, or if it was store brought, cake is cake” I rolled my eyes and physically bit my tongue, it didn’t matter if she was they boy’s biological mother or not, she put no effort into learning her children
“Well, i’m out, I just had to tell Hyunjin that I wouldn’t be back until next week, i’m going to Japan with one of my fellow mommy friends” I smiled and wished her farewell and being honest I wouldn’t care if she didn’t come back until next lifetime “Have fun and be safe, safe travels” She thanked me and the house fell silent for a little bit until the tell tale sign of Hyori crying rang throughout the house
Usually I would’ve rushed to her, but it was nearing her bed time and Hyunjin requested that whenever he was home that he’d be the one to put her to sleep, and who was I to deny a man who actually enjoyed spending his time with his daughter
The cake was almost finished, but I felt that it needed a touch of regular whipped cream, so I trekked over to the large stainless steel fridge, everytime I seen it, I was reminded at how rich Hyunjin was, he had enough money to spend on a refrigerator with a built in tablet that connected to his and my phone. I giggled and shook my head as a reminder that I needed to grab whipped cream not to fawn over a refrigerator
I grabbed my spatula, grabbing one last scoop of the chocolate cream “Whatcha’ making” I forgot that I was in fact not alone in the house and having not heard him walk into the kitchen, I squealed and dropped a little bit of the chocolate icing on my chest, thankfully not on my white tank top
Hyunjin’s eyes turned to slits as he stepped closer to me, eliminating any of the space that was previously between us “I was making a chocolate cake for the boys, but you scared me” I pretended to be upset and immediately broke my demeanor, giggling while trying not to stare directly into his eyes, but he had another idea entirely
His middle and index finger moved from their place hanging idle by hips and scooped up the fallen cream from my chest, my eyes widened while his locked onto my face, sticking the two fingers and sucking on them, moaning while his tongue swirled around the digits, my panties were damp at this point, his eyes never leaving my body
“Your cream is delicious baby, have you tried it?” My eyes widened at the innuendo, and I shook my head while my bottom lip slipped between my teeth, keeping me from spewing some desperate nonsense “Try it” His fingers swiped into the bowl directly at this point, his other hand cupped my jaw, gently prying it open so he could stick his long slender fingers between my lips
I opened my mouth for him and eagerly sucked on the digits, moaning at the way he pressed them against my tongue, I popped off for a brief moment onto to take the chocolate cream covered digits, my eyes never left his, not even when I finished with an audible pop “It really is good” Hyunjin chuckled and licked his lips, his eyes telling me that he wasn’t done
“You still have some on your chest baby” Hyunjin was quick, immediately dipping down and letting his mouth suckle at the area, whines of pleasure couldn’t help but ooze out of my body while his tongue lapped at the area like a starved man, his hands holding a death grip onto my hips, most definitely leaving bruises to match the hickies forming on my chest
“Let’s not let this go to waste no?” Before I could even question him, he picked my body up with ease placing it back down onto the counter, with efficiency, he took my tank top off, leaving me in nothing but my panties and shorts against his kitchen’s island countertop
He groaned while smearing the chocolate cream all the way from my collarbone down to the waistband of my sleep shorts. In seconds I was turned into a moaning mess when he latched his mouth onto my left breast, teasing the nipple with his teeth, while his other hand busied itself groping my right breast
“Stop teasing Hwang” instead of verbally replying he bit down on my nipple, causing me squeal out in shock and a teensy bit of pain “Oh baby don’t tell me what to do, that’s my job for you princess, got it?” With haste, I immediately shook my head in confirmation making the man stand up and chuckle making me tilt my head in confusion
He kept his eyes on mine while removing his wedding ring, which sent even more waves of pleasure to my cunt that was already sopping, begging for any kind of friction
“Oh baby, i’m not going to stick my fingers in you with another woman’s ring on”
୨୧ jisung
Jisung and I gotten really close over the span of a couple weeks, most of our conversations being over facetime since we were both too busy to meet up, him with producing, making music, and being a father, and me doing the same things except switch the parenting part with dancing
I was currently on facetime with the male because not only was I struggling on my concept for the next comeback I would have, but my fans loved the sexual nature of Sticky, making my company force me into writing a song of the same nature
"I don't know Jisung, I don't like how the chorus sounds and it's about to make me tweak out" A deep but very chuckle sounded from my speakers while Jisung tried his best to convince me not to do anything that would get me caught up in a scandal
“I’m not good at writing sex songs, I literally haven’t had sex in lord knows how long” I didn’t realize that I was just blabbing now, but Jisung went silent and then began making fun of me for my lack of sex to which I cursed him out
“Not all of us can be the J.One, we all can’t be sexy like you Jisung” I rolled my eyes making sure that my phone was propped up where it could see my notepad and crumbled papers of failure surrounding my work space “You’re right, not all of us can be me, but if you play your cards right, you can get a piece of me” He winked and I scoffed folding my arms over my chest
“Oh please, I didn’t forget about you texting me about how proud you are about being a munch Jisung” The male shrugged and then told me he wasn’t denying the truth “If you’re such a munch then why are most of your songs about receiving and not giving baby boy, plus when I sent you my location the other day, you didn’t eat me out, we literally made out and that was it” The males face turned red and he screamed about me being wrong
“Okay so first things first I literally had a plan on how I was gonna fuck you Y/n how was I supposed to know that my baby mama was gonna call me, besides just because I like giving head doesn’t mean that I give head to every girl I fuck, not everyone has been worthy of my talent” I scoffed and shook my head at the male who was now in his kitchen, cooking stir fried rice with his shirt off, showing off the planes of well sculpted abs “Oh so i’m worthy of your talent”
The other side of the phone went silent but I could hear the sizzling of spam in his pan “Of course, just wait till we’re less busy babe, i’ll make you feel so good that you can’t help but have enough material to write sex songs” I didn’t respond and I also wouldn’t admit to him that talking about him giving me head was actually motivating me, just not in the way I needed it right now
“And how would you eat me out Mr. J munch One” He chuckled and added an egg into the pan, immediately popping the yolk and spreading it around with his chop sticks “Well for starters, i’m kissing you, your thighs, your stomach, and your hips, i’ll bite down every now and then making sure that your skin is blossoming with my marks”
My eyes widened but he didn’t even look up from the stove and continued “Then, i’m finger fucking fucking you until I find your g spot, then i’ll make sure anytime that I finger you, i’d abuse that spot until you cum all over my fingers” He looked up at the camera and then back at his food “Then after you cum like the good girl that I know you are, i’m gonna put my fingers in you again, this time adding my tongue, i’ll make sure to lick up every drop of your essence baby”
“After sucking your cunt clean, i’m tongue fucking the shit out of you until you squirt all over my face, and I won’t stop until I have you squirting baby, If i’m not covered in you by time we’re done, then I failed” He wasn’t done speaking but I couldn’t just stay quiet, especially now that he was turning me on “Yeah? and how would you have me after that”
Jisung smirked, knowing that his words were getting to me “I’d make you sit on my face next, if my girl is squirting, it better be while i’m underneath her” My eyes widened and he smirked “My face is your chair babe, put all your weight on my face I can handle it, if i’m able to breath you’re not doing it right”
“What if i’m too heavy for you Jisung then what” The male stared at me as if I offended him and I almost felt like apologizing “I work out for a reason, i’m literally made to pleasure you baby, not to mention the fact I could bust your pretty little pussy open on my cock”
I gasped and immediately asked him how would he have me given the opportunity and he chuckled saying that he’d fuck me in missionary, not because he was boring since he was quite the opposite, but he wanted to leave hickies on my breast and see how good his cock made me feel
“I’d fuck you so good that I could literally fuck a baby in you” I rolled my eyes and jokingly told him that I doubt that anyone could make me want a baby by them and he shrugged “You see i’m a dad already, that’s literally the one thing I can prove” I shrugged and laughed “No, all that tells me is that you have a weak pull out game”
The male rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone, and put it down after a few seconds, and after a couple more, I realized he texted me his address and he remained nonchalant while shrugging “Seeing that you’re struggling with material and i’m struggling with a boner, you should come over”
“You wish” He smiled and said that he in fact did, and I rolled my eyes, grabbing my keys and locking down the studio, “Keep your word Han Jisung”
“Oh baby i’d do more than keep my words”
୨୧ felix
| 9:28 pm from Felix (flora)
Hey are you on your way? Bitna is asking if you forgot, don’t worry if you’re busy we can reschedule! I don’t want to impose on your time
I smiled at the notification from Felix, but immediately dropped it once I realize the text was a way for his wife to nag him about my presence. About two weeks ago, Felix informed me of his wife wanting to meet the woman who her daughter has been around lately because it was and I quote “A mothers duty to know the people she’s friends with” and had it not been for Felix’s eyes silently begging me to accept the dinner offer, I would’ve declined
I hated Bitna. I never met the woman but if she could leave her child in the rain because she was mad at her husband, multiple times, then it said a lot about her and I wouldn’t ever associate with someone of her caliber, but since she was married to the sweetest man on earth and the mother to the sweetest child i’ve ever met, I would mind putting up with her. She told Felix th
I knew this was a way for her to insert herself into a place where she had no business in, because based off how Flora described her and how apologetic Felix was after being her lapdog, I knew she was nothing less than a narcissistic bitch- not that I would ever voice that, yes I wanted her husband, but I wasn’t going to spew hateful things to him about the mother to his daughter, I wasn’t evil
I didn’t reply to the message since I was already at the door of the restaurant, asking the server to direct me towards a table reserved under “Felix Lee” With a few steps, we were already there, and I thanked the man who looked closer to my man than not for leading me to them
“You’re late” Before Felix could even greet me, his wife spoke and I already could tell that she wasn’t fond of me, if her scowl and crossed arms were anything to go by of course. Felix’s face turned red and he began to apologize causing me to shake my head, never letting my eyes wander from his witch of a wife “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize, I wasn’t offended Felix” I sat down in the chair directly across from Felix since Bitna placed her feet in the chair in front of her
The joke was on her I wanted to sit in front of Felix any fucking way
“Well, how’s working at a cafe, how does that even pay the bills if you don’t mind me asking” I stared at the woman, fighting the urge to roll my eyes, picking up the menu instead “Well I wouldn’t know, I own the cafe I don’t work there” Without looking up from the menu I could tell that her face was even more scrunched up, showing her true personality right off the bat
“Oh well, luckily for me, I married a man who started his own makeup line from the ground up, if you’re ever lucky enough to get a man, get a man who can support you as a stay at home mom” Felix’s face was awkward and Bitna’s eyes were staring at him weirdly making me scoff
“Well not all of us want to be stay at home mothers, I have a business degree for a reason, I enjoy the cafe” Bitna rolled her eyes and waved her hand in physical dismissal of me “You’re saying that because you don’t have a kid yet, but when you do you’ll want to listen to my advice”
Sensing that the tension was only going to build until Bitna tipped me over the edge, Felix stepped in by clearing his throat and smiling at me with warm eyes “Thank you for coming out tonight Y/n, Flora’s a bit upset that we’re having this meeting without her to be honest” I chuckled and shook my head before answering
“We’ll be prepared to grovel-” “Which is stupid, when she does that shit, I tell her i’ll take her out of ballet and then she chills out, the fuck are you groveling to a little five year old girl for” My eyebrows furrowed and Felix awkwardly cleared his throat “Let’s just order, I know the owner, the food is to die for”
Bitna started to say something but she was cut off as a waitress came out our table, requesting to know what we wanted, and because she couldn’t live with not being the first for once in her life, Bitna gave her order
Having enough of Bitna’s attitude, I began slipping my foot out of confinement inside of my heel, I mentally thanked the lucky stars for being at a restaurant where the table covers covered the table, no one would be able to see nor know what I was doing, except for Felix. My foot began gently caressing his leg, causing him to look up at me with wide eyes in shock, but a quiet sign of encouragement as well
“Well i’ll have the chicken parmesan and your finest wine please” I finished ordering, ignoring Bitna’s tiny comment on my plate, causing another devious idea to cross my mind, I stopped my ministrations and trailed my foot until it was directly on his bulge, he pinched one of my toes as a warning, but I ignored that and pretended to be interested in the wall decor
“And for you sir?” The moment Felix began speaking, I applied pressure onto his cock, feeling it harden the moment he took a deep breath, accidentally raising his voice an octave higher “I’m sorry, i’ll have what she’s having” I smiled and began to let my other foot loose, I wasn’t satisfied with how easy he deflected me
“Good choice Felix” He chuckled, eyes still warning about what I was doing, to which I ignored again, this time pushing both feet down “You keep calling him us by our first names… do you not care to call us by the respectful terms? I do believe we are older than you” My eyes left his and I immediately began my fondling again, not paying attention to how he was squirming
“Well there’s not a big age gap between us and neither one of you are my bosses nor grandparents, so let me ask you this, do you call your friend’s wives by their surnames?” She went quiet and I happily accepted my silent victory “Hold on babe, i’m gonna ask the waiter about the hold up on our food” Had I not been rubbing her husband under the table I would’ve reminded her that it has only been five minutes and the moment she got up Felix scowled
“What if she saw us then what Y/n” I remained cool, knowing that he was trying to make me slow down on my little game but I shrugged “You could always pull your pants down and let me rub the actual thing for you babe” Felix’s eyes widened and he looked around, then finally down to where the tablecloth did in fact cover his groin “Fine” In a split second, he adjusted his dress pants and boxers, allowing for his cock to spring free
To everyone else, he simply adjusted himself but we both knew the truth. “Good boy” Felix rolled his eyes and punched my toe again “Oh no, i’m letting you do this so I can have a reason to fuck the shit out of you darling, don’t take my placidness for weakness” He moved my feet to where he wanted me and I looked at Bitna, who was on her way back, having realized what we already found out
I ignored her whining and immediately began using my feet to jerk him off, keeping a rhythm where I sped up occasionally only slowing down when his thighs began shaking “What’s wrong honey you don’t look so well” I immediately looked at the duo and asked were they okay to which Felix nodded “I’m just hungry”
A couple moments later, our waitress came back and gave us our plates, but I couldn’t focus on my food knowing that the man in front of me was about to cum, I felt droplets fall onto my feet and had I not looked at him, I would’ve thought he came, rather than it being his precum. The moment he began eating, I sped up, helping his chase his orgasm until he moaned, shoking both Bitna and me
“The food is just too good I can’t” Cum was covering my toes and my foot, but I couldn’t care less, Felix stared at me, motioning for me to check my phone to which I did with a poorly hidden smirk
| 10:45 pm from Felix (flora)
Just wait Y/n. I’m gonna breed your pussy until you’re begging for me to stop, and then when I feel like you learned enough of a lesson, you’re gonna walk around with my cum inside you until I fuck more into you
୨୧ seungmin
It was the summer so to no one’s surprise, many of the neighbors were throwing barbecues, this time it was a neighborhood cookout where we would all meet up at the Choi’s house, I sat in my room in front of my vanity debating on dressing up because Seungmin texted me earlier today to ask if he should bring food or deserts
I sighed at the dilemma I selfishly placed myself into, I was engaged for fucksake, but I was getting ready to look good for another man entirely, said man being a (not happily) married father of two kids both under the age of five. I rolled my eyes, pushing the thoughts of morals to the back of my mind, besides if wasn’t like Seungmin was completely innocent either
The other day, he knocked on my door at five in the morning, and having been woken up by my fiancé who made me check it, I forgot I was clad in a bra set with matching panties that were barely covered by the matching robe, only then did I remember what I was wearing when Seungmin failed to meet my eyes, holding eye contact with my breast that were spilling out of their confinements due to the fact I breast fed
“How may I help you Seungmin” I smiled sweetly making sure that anyone who might’ve driven by weren’t flashed by the sight of me in my robe talking to another’s woman husband so early in the morning “Oh I um- fuck, I was making breakfast for Minseok before I left for work and I realized I had no eggs, and I came to see if you had any to spare?”
Since I was the one who did the grocery shopping, I mentally had a checklist of everything I had in my refrigerator and since I would be going shopping later on today, I decided to let him have the five eggs I had left “Of course, let me go get those for you i’ll be back in a moment” I took longer than needed to walk to my kitchen, making sure to sway my hips since Seungmin seemed like an ass man, and if my hypothesis was correct, I was gonna make sure he enjoyed every last bit of it
"Well, aren't you lucky, here you go" My breast jiggled when I handed the man who looked more like a cherub than himself the over half empty carton "Thank you so much Y/n, you really are an angel" I shook my head chuckling "Maybe you'll get to see my bad girl side one day, goodnight Seungmin" I waved the man goodbye, and immediately yawned, too tired to even reflect on my actions
Which brought me to me to current situation, we were all gathered at the Choi’s enjoying the weather, but Seungmin came with his kids without his wife, making the neighbors gossip, believing that he and his wife we’re separating since they haven’t been seen together since they moved into the neighborhood, if only they knew that his wife was a grumpy hag who liked to slam the door in the faces of people trying to warn her about her four year old son wandering off
“Have you seen the new neighbor? He’s so sexy” The comment came from Hana, one of the older moms in the neighborhood, but not quite Seungmin’s age, I rolled my eyes and told the woman to behave because not only was Seungmin married, she was literally ten feet away from her husband, how hypocritical of me
“I don’t look at other men, I have a child to focus on miss ma’am” my comment held no malice behind it, but it was clear that I wasn’t going to join in on the thirsting behind Seungmin, that’s something I did in the middle of the night with my magic wand plus on the highest setting “Oh boo you’re no fun, you’re still so young and set on settling down, when I was your age, I was having threesomes”
Hana shrugged and took a sip from her red solo cup making me roll my eyes “I’m gonna see if Mrs. Choi needs help in the kitchen” I stood up, leaving the mother of four alone to her cup of ‘juice’. I walked inside the kitchen, closing the sliding door behind me, slightly thankful that hers had blinds that blocked the hot sun from coming in
“Oh hey Y/n you’re here” Instead of Mrs. Choi, I was met by a wide eyed Seungmin who slightly smiled, probably finally seeing the one familiar person besides Mrs. Choi at this event. I waved and gave a greeting back and it went back silent “You’re babyless today” I smiled and shrugged “I am, but so are you” He also shrugged saying that he had to see if the neighbors would even like him before exposing his child to them which was honestly fair
Me on the other hand, forced Heeseung to spend time with his daughter, because it felt like the only thing he did for her was make her. It was silent, I was silently scrolling on my phone while Seungmin was sitting on the other side of me, eating some of the food I made which caused flutters inside my heart at the mundane gesture
“Y/n”
I looked up from my phone and saw how we was staring at me, indescribable emotions swirling in his eyes “It’s too many people here, follow me” Even though I was confused, I followed him as we left the Choi’s house through the side door rather than the back where the sounds of laughter and sizzling grills began fading into the background as Seungmin and I slipped away from the bustling cookout.
I was severely confused as our steps began speeding up as my hearts began wildly pounding with a mix of excitement and guilt. I arched my eyebrow as he led to me a secluded spot he found behind a large oak tree in the woods behind our houses
Seungmin leaned against the rough bark, running a hand through his hair as he caught his breath. I stood close, but gave him rough distance where he wouldn’t feel overwhelmed, even though the proximity sent a thrill down my spine. I glanced around one last time before meeting Seungmin’s eyes, my resolve finally wavering
“This is crazy” I failed to meet his eyes finally realizing the moment he pulled me away from the cookout “I know” Seungmin replied, his gaze intense. “But I can’t stop thinking about you and I know it’s the same for you”
My heart ached at his words, the forbidden nature of our taboo attraction making it all the more irresistible. Without another word, I closed the distance between us, my lips capturing his in a heated kiss. The world seemed to blur as out lips moved in perfect sync, every touch and caress igniting a fire that neither of us could nor would control.
Seungmin’s hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer as our kiss deepened. The urgency in his movements spoke of the inappropriate moments we cherished, the secret desires we wouldn’t ever voice. My fingers tangled in Seungmin’s hair, my mind racing a mile and minute with a whirlwind of emotions.
“I need to be inside you now Y/n, if you say no, i’ll stop right now” His pupils were blown, but I kept my lips sealed, figuratively and literally sealing the deal “Fuck me Seungmin”
୨୧ jeongin
It’s been too long since Jungwoo had seen me and he only grew more and more upset about it as the days passed. It wasn't that I didn't want to see the toddler again, but it wasn't that simple, my schedule as a professional volleyball never seemed to match up with his fathers profession as an international designer brand ambassador model. Literally, the one time I was available, Jeongin and Jungwoo flew out to Italy for some fancy photoshoot
Today Jeongin and I were determined, the facetimes were getting harder and harder to manage because of time differences and whenever it was nap time for the boy, it always seemed to be the only time that I had available. Luckily for me, it seemed that luck was on my side because when Jeongin and Jungwoo went to France, my coach told me that I had a game around the time his shoot was, meaning that I would finally get to see the foxlike boys
I told Jeongin’s manager the news, wanting to surprise the male since I haven’t seen him in four months, and everytime he called me, he whined about Jungwoo throwing a tantrum because his new favorite person wasn’t there for him. The moment my flight landed, I ignored my teammates recommended activity of a group exploration trip to the catacombs which was an automatic no, why waste my time with dead skeletons when I could hang out with a cute baby and his sexy ass father
His hotel staff having known of my arrival, gave me a keycard to his room and the moment I made it inside, I could tell that he barely had time to unpack, his and Jungwoo’s suitcases being tossed in font the bed, not even unzipped. I chuckled, imagining the dad and his son coming into the room only to be immediately taken to another photoshoot location
“Poor babies” I immediately looked around the hotel scanning the area for a hiding spot, settling in on the kitchen since I knew Jungwoo liked to have his snacks the moment he came in through the door or he would scream until he tired himself out, I got comfortable sitting on the countertop, knowing that I wasn’t visible to those who came in unless they walked into the kitchen
Thankfully I wasn’t waiting long before I heard the tell tale sign of a keycard being scanned, and my smile grew wider at the idea of finally being able to see my two favorite boys. Only to be greeted by Jeongin with no Jungwoo
“Oh my god?? Y/n?” I pouted, disappointed that one of the reasons I came to the hotel, but got up to hug the man nonetheless “Where the hell is Jungwoo” Jeongin chuckled and wrapped his muscled arms around my waist cooing at me “His mom lives in France, so I let him kick it with her one day” I awed in realization, he was in fact correct, I remember seeing it on celebrity news that the model moved to France to escape the “hardships” hardships being her toddler
“Well I guess I can forgive you” I rolled my eyes making him smile “What the hell are you doing here anyways” We pulled away and I shrugged “I have a game coming up, we’re playing against France” Jeongin nodded and told me he was going to take a shower since he felt hot having been out in the sun for a swimwear collection photoshoot “Well hurry up before I get bored Yang”
The male told me he would be out soon and I went into the bedroom, making myself comfortable on the bed scrolling through my social media to interact with fans, I giggled seeing an edit of me and and my teams setter practicing, the comments were filled with admiration for me and Aisha
“I can hear you giggling what’s so funny” Jeongin came out the shower, sweatpants hanging dangerously on his hips since he decided to forego the shirt, my comeback got caught in my throat, turning it into the sahara, while my panties were turning into the pacific, I realized that I was staring and locked in, showing him the edit making him arch his eyebrow
“That is the most tame edit I’ve seen of you” Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrow and question him as to what he meant, only for him to go onto tiktok and type in “Y/n edit” and tap the first one that appeared, it was an edit to candy by doja cat, it was clips from my most recent match against Spain, and since I was in the middle of the game, I wasn’t able to grab my sweat towel, so I lifted up my jersey, revealing my abs, the next clip was a video of me licking my lips in a live I did awhile back and then the edit closed with me footage of me cat walking into the met gala
“That was still pretty tame Jeongin, your edits are so much worse” He asked for proof and I immediately went to my camera roll forgetting that he was looking at my phone, the audio rolled in and his eyes began to widen and how the video started with saying “slut me out” of all things, it then switched onto clips of his abs, showing his armpit muscle, and his work outs, the edit stopped and his grin grew
“You want me so bad” I rolled my eyes and tossed my phone onto the bed “Fuck you mean by that?” Jeongin chuckled and brought up the fact I had that edit saved in my camera roll for awhile, I mentally began cursing apple for saving date and timestamps on the camera roll items “I want you too, baby, I can slut you out right now and make you my personal cock whore” He took hold of my wrists, eyes locked onto mine
“Get on your knees” I listened and followed through with what he said without a second thought, the way he looked down at me made me feel hornier than it would’ve with anyone else. I was living my dream come true, my teenage fantasy was finally happening with the man who invoked my wet dreams
“Don’t be shy” He bent down halfway, an iron grip on my jaw “open” my tongue lolled out against my chin and my eyes focused in on how he smiled, gripping my chin tighter “you’re always such a good listener, make me cum and i’ll fuck your cunt like I know you want me to” Jeongin smiled cockily once he finished speaking, he shocked me by spitting his warm saliva on my exposed tongue, a moan escaped as he refused to remove his grip, undoing his drawstring with one hand, sweats falling to the ground with a soft thump
“Spit” His cock sprang free from its entrapment inside of his boxers and I couldn’t help but gawk at the sheer size of him, he was big, whatever he lacked in girth, he made up for in length and it intimidated me “Dumb lil’ baby already doing stupid I said spit” I immediately followed his directions, spitting on his penis, smearing the mixture of my spit, his spit, and his precum all over his cock
“I’m about to ruin every other cock for youbaby, open your mouth for me real wide”
💃🪩
strawberry cake.
kim seungmin × fem!reader — high school! au, childhood friends to potential lovers, fluff
summary — seungmin only needs one present on his birthday, and it isn't the sugary dessert you made for him.
word count — 1.1K
warnings — fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!
author's note — happy seungmin day 🩷 i actually managed to post a fic on a member's birthday, who am i. initially thought of my baseball ksm fic but i know i'm not gonna finish that lol and his instagram posts were very inspiring. i think i watched this happen in some movie or tv show i watched, i don't remember 😭 but i thought it was really cute, lmk what you guys think <3
please consider leaving feedback in the comments or reblogs as they really make my day 💕
Kim Seungmin didn't like celebrating his birthday that much. Sure, he liked receiving a few gifts from his friends and a happy birthday here and there, but he didn't like the blowout parties that you loved. On your birthday, you would plan this whole thing, inviting friends from school and neighbors to celebrate your birthday. You were a social butterfly, so he understood why you did that. You loved being surrounded by people you cherished. Your birthday was just an excuse to call everyone over and spend time with them.
Seungmin, however, liked keeping his celebrations more reserved. His mother greeted him in the morning, making his favorite breakfast to eat and favorite lunch to take to school. His dad handed him some cash to buy something to eat after school, which he usually didn't do and opted to save it for a better cause. His sister offered to take him out for lunch on the weekend.
Of course, being the wonderful and amazing best friend that you were (your words), you always went out of your way to do something. Like this year, you presented him with a small cake slightly smushed in your lunch box with haphazardly thrown purple sprinkles.
“I made it from scratch,” you added with a big grin as you sat in front of his desk. His friends had left a few moments ago to play on the school grounds. He'd stayed back, finishing up the last of his lunch and letting it settle in his stomach before he ran around playing soccer. A small smile formed on his face; he could never dislike your enthusiasm for his birthday.
“It looks... artistic,” he said in an amused tone, looking up from the lunch box to your face, which was scrunched up in a frown.
“I didn't know the box would be small... And hey, I baked this for you; at least show some appreciation!”
Seungmin laughed. “Sorry, thank you for making this cake for me.” He meant that; he knew that you knew it too, because your shoulders relaxed, and you prompted him to take a bite and tell him how it tasted. There was a little too much sugar for his liking, but he didn't tell you that, instead nodding his head in approval and eating more of it. It was strawberry-flavored, his favorite. It warmed his heart that you always went out of your way to do things the way that he liked.
When he looked back at you, you were tucking a strand of hair back as you ate a spoonful. The longer he looked at you, the faster his heartbeat went, his body feeling hot right up to the tip of his ears. It was a weird feeling, but not foreign. Lately, it had been happening more often. He started seeing you in a different light, something other than a friend—not just any friend, but a childhood friend. He wasn't naive; he knew what crushes were, and he knew he had one on you.
It was a realization he had come across a few months ago when his family and yours went to the carnival over the summer and the two of you had gotten separated. He came home that day, heart tap dancing in his ribcage and a never-ending smile on his face from the way you jumped with excitement after you worked together to win the obviously rigged carnival games and winning a plushie.
Some part of him knew that. You liked him back as well; he hoped his brain wasn't playing tricks on him when he saw the way your eyes lit up after seeing him. The innocent friendship you two shared was morphing into something different—a good different.
That evening, while the two of you were walking home after the extra classes you had, the crisp evening air sent a tingle down his spine as he walked along the pavement, listening to whatever you were talking about and adding his own insights whenever he felt like it.
“Oh, hey, look! Tteokbokki!” You said excitedly, pointing to the food cart run by a middle-aged woman serving the steaming hot spicy rice cakes to a few customers. With a tug of his arm, you dragged him over and ordered one spicy one for both of you to share. He didn't like eating spice as much as you did, but he didn't want to say no to you. After a short debate, he used his birthday money to pay for the food, and the two of you walked along the riverside slowly as you ate.
“Mm, these are good,” you let out a satisfied hum and continued eating.
“They are,” he agreed. The spice was present at the back of his throat, but it was weirdly good after the oversweet cake he had during lunch.
“It tastes good after eating that sugar monster I made, right?” Seungmin turned his head to look at you. “What? Don't give me that look, that cake was so sweet, how did you even finish the whole thing? It tasted like I dumped a whole box of sugar in the batter.”
“True… But you made it, so I wanted to eat it,” he admitted, feeling his face flush lightly. If you teased him about it, he was going to brush it off and blame it on the tteokbokki, but your own cheeks mimicked his, tinging red at his sudden admission.
“Still,” you protested, “I'll have to make a better one that doesn't taste like cavities.”
“I like the oversweet one. Maybe I'm an extra sugar kinda person.”
"No, you're not.”
“It wasn't even that bad.”
“Now you're just lying.”
The two of you dissolved into laughter, finishing up the last of your food. The walk home continued in relative silence for a while, him mulling over his words and wondering if he made you uncomfortable because you were too quiet. Before he could make an apology, you spoke quietly.
“I'm glad you liked it, but I still wish I could've given you a better birthday present.”
He stared at the path in front of them, the streets lit up by lamps and porch lights. “You already gave me the perfect birthday present.”
You tilted your head to the side. “What?”
“You,” he blurted out, regretting his words the next second, but once he saw your flustered reaction, his nerves calmed a little. “Now let's go home and act surprised at whatever my parents planned.” You giggled in response and nodded, your footsteps falling in sync as you walked beside him.
“Happy birthday, Seungmin.”
“You said that like ten times today!”
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AND OH ITS HARD TO LEAVE YOU, WHEN I GET YOU EVERYWHERE.
Kinktober Day 23: Breast Worship
[kinktober masterlist.]
🔞 warning: smut below! mdni.
pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Han Jisung x reader
•
Hyunjin’s arms wrap firmly around your figure as you lean back against him in bed, his slender fingers toying with the buttons of your Henley tee. He traces them one by one, reaching lower and lower until he’s at the valley of your breasts, and then he dips a finger into the hem of your shirt, lightly caressing over the mound of your left breast.
You let out an amused chuckle, glancing down to observe his still-traveling fingers, and then you turn to meet the growing smirk on his face.
“Sorry,” he voices simply. “I’m a bit distracted.”
“I can tell,” you say to him, leaning further back into him. He takes the opportunity to cup both of his palms over your mounds, massaging them in circular motions as he tries to draw his attention back to the movie playing on the television across from you, yet failing miserably.
Before you can comment about his visibly failing attempt at distracting himself, he tugs your shirt down over your chest, exposing your chest and allowing his palms to sprawl out over your bare flesh. You let out a soft moan at the sensation of the air conditioned room grazing your skin, your nipples already erect at the gentle breeze that caresses them. And then you let out a little gasp when Jisung now turns to face you, beginning to say something about the movie, yet pausing his speech at the sight of you and Hyunjin.
His eyebrows furrow at first in a state of what you initially presume to be confusion, until he lets out an audible whine, gesturing to Hyunjin frustratedly.
“See, this is what I mean,” he begins. “Every time you get to sit next to her, you guys leave me out.”
“No one’s leaving you out,” Hyunjin responds with a light chuckle.
“Sure feels like it,” he retorts.
“Hey,” you chime in gently, reaching out to caress his toned arm. “Why don’t you join in on the fun?”
“And share with him?” Jisung whines, running a hand through his hair. “You know I don’t do threesomes.”
“Suit yourself,” Hyunjin replies plainly. And before Jisung can protest any further, Hyunjin is leaning down to take your breast in his mouth, sucking gently around your nipple and kneading your flesh with the palm of his calloused hand.
Jisung observes as your lips part in pure ecstasy, your body arching up into him almost instantly at the contact. He feels his heart quicken as he watches Hyunjin’s plump lips wrap around your nipple with such purpose, emitting a light sucking noise when he pulls away to litter your skin in kisses. And you don’t miss the way his eyebrows arch up in a desperate manner, as though he’s hoping Hyunjin will provide some form of invitation a second time.
You know not to embarrass Jisung, refraining from reiterating that he’s welcome to involve himself in the dirty little act. Instead, you coax him with a simple wave of your hand, gesturing to your vacant right breast while Hyunjin works on your left.
Jisung doesn’t protest it this time around, scooting toward you on the bed to assume a position in front of your seated figure. He leans down so that he’s face-level with your chest, positioning his right leg in front of him to shift his weight comfortably against the mattress. And then his glistening lips part over your right nipple, before taking you in his mouth, too.
An audible gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of both their mouths working you at once, sucking generously around your erect nipples as though they might coax fluids from you. Hyunjin litters your flesh in wet kisses before taking you in his mouth again, humming softly against your flesh as he kneads your skin in comfort motions.
Jisung’s pace is much quicker, his tongue swirling around your nipple in rapid flicking motions, trailing over your mound and tracing little patterns along the goosebumps that arise with their sensual touches. He moans against you, muttering something about how good you are to him, though his words are barely audible when his lips are suctioned firmly around you.
Your hand reaches down to cup around the back of his neck, tangling in his silky tresses and tugging lightly to break his contact with you. When he’s effectively parted from your chest, drunk on the feeling of your perfectly sculpted breasts in his mouth, he meets your lips this time, indulging you in a wet, needy kiss. His lips work against you much like they worked your chest- quick, desperate, with every intention to taste you and pleasure you. And he pulls away just as quickly as he’d captured you in a kiss, bending down to take your chest in his mouth once more. He feels entirely whole with your nipples gracing his tongue, as though he’s meant to be here feeding off your chest for his own pleasure. His eyelids flutter shut in a state of pure bliss, humming softly against your skin when he lets his teeth graze against you, emitting a soft moan from the back of your throat.
At the same time, Hyunjin now breaks the contact, pulling away to observe the way your nipple glistens with his saliva. A long thread of his own saliva connects his pink lips to your nipple still, dissipating against your chest when his lips pull into a satisfied grin. And then he gathers a wad of spit in between his lips, letting it trickle down over your breast and coat your flesh in a sheen layer of moisture.
You let out a fervent moan when he does, throwing your head back slightly as you relish in the sensation of your chest feeling even colder now. His fingers plunge toward your chest to gather a bead of saliva before it can find purchase on your Henley shirt, pressing firmly against your skin as he rubs it into you in soothing motions. Your shirt is already a mess of drool, both his and Jisung’s, as the pads of his fingers tweak your nipples and trace the convexes of your mound.
Then he’s taking you in his mouth again, his motions much gentler than Jisung’s, yet intentional, as he begins to suck you again.
The pleasure is overwhelming now, your legs squirming beneath you as their hot breaths swirl against your skin, their hands groping every inch of you while you arch up into them. They take turns uttering affirming words when they pull back to gasp for air, chuckling lightly when you massage their tresses in encouraging motions.
“So sexy,” Hyunjin remarks, tracing kisses along your mound as his hands work you eagerly.
“God, I fucking love your tits,” Jisung chimes in, rutting against the mattress with every slight motion of his mouth.
Your head throws back when they quicken their pace to suck at the same speed now, the entire room filling with lewd, wet noises and soft moans. Your legs cross over each other to calm the rhythmic ache between your legs, chasing the sweet friction of your pajama shorts against your aching clit.
And before you can ask them to touch you elsewhere, you feel it at last- a gush of fluid when you reach your orgasm, your entire body contracting as their tongues flicker over your sensitive nipples and suck little bruises along the flesh of your mounds.
Hyunjin is the first to pull away, embracing you for a drooly kiss, before uttering his thanks to you and glancing down at Jisung. When Jisung pulls away, he’s red in the face, his mouth glistening with saliva, heavy breaths escaping his parted lips. He mutters his own thanks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he turns his attention back toward the television and makes an effort to ignore the raging erection he now sports beneath his jeans.
Hyunjin’s hands dance along the hem of your shirt again, tugging it back up over your chest and adjusting the buttons once more. Your shirt is littered with dark spots of saliva, your nipples still protruding against the tight fabric, as Hyunjin leans down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, keeping his lips pressed against the shell of your ear for a passing second.
“We’ll pick this up again in a little bit,” he remarks, wrapping his arms around you as he had before. And your breathless gasps are almost louder than the movie playing, languid bodies tangled with each other, as you anticipate a second round of pleasure.
*
Always You
Pairing: Best friend! Bangchan x Afab! Reader
Summary: It’s hard to enjoy a party when your best friend who you’ve been in love with for years turns up with his girlfriend…
Warnings: MDNI, dom!chan, sub!reader, possessive!chan, unprotected sex (don’t be like them) dirty talk, cum eating, multiple orgasms (f!rec) fingering (f!rec) mentions of mastubation, spitting (chan spits on it yk..) tummy bulge, creampie
Wc: 2.7k
a/n: did I write and edit it this in one sitting? yes I did,,, is this also my return to writing fics after 5 years bc I’m so attracted to chan idk what to do?? Also yes 🤪
‘‘Lixieee watch my drink, I nearly dropped it’’ You roll your eyes and smile at Felix as he practically jumps on you. His parties were always rowdy, especially when Jisung wormed his way into the planning. Colourful lights strewn around every pillar and doorway, countless bottles and cheesy red cups littering the granite countertops in the dorm kitchen, the air thick with smoke and the sickly sweet scent of liquor.
Part of you loved how committed the boys were to throwing the most stereotypical frat parties, the perfect way to unwind from the stress of uni life. You scan the room for that all too familiar face but find no sign of him, your shoulders dropping slightly, the disappointment in your chest too strong to ignore.
You and Chan had been best friends since you were 12, your parents pushing you together as an unlikely duo. You'd immediately become inseparable,spending every second with each other. People had always questioned your relationship, everyone thought you must be dating if you were so close, but you and Chan were just friends, at least that's what you convinced yourself it had to be.
You first started having feelings for Chan at 18, you were university freshmen starting the next big chapter of your lives together and you couldn't get him out of your head. His deep brown eyes that sparkled when he spoke about the things he loved, his soft curly black hair that you loved ruffling to annoy him and his dimples that became impossibly deep when he smiled. Being around him was both torture and comfort. Three years later and you were still completely in love with someone who views you as his best friend, nothing more. In other words, you're utterly fucked.
‘’Lix, have you seen Chan tonight? I thought he was coming’’ Felix still clinging to you in his tipsy state. His messy blonde hair slightly covering his eyes and freckle-dotted cheeks, a pink blush dusting his skin thanks to the many drinks he’d already knocked back.
‘’Nah not yet, he said he's coming later after his date’’ he slurs his words a little, all giggly and happy, not knowing the ache his words cause you. You hum in response, suddenly feeling less sociable than a few minutes ago.
‘’Ahhhhh speak of the devil’’ Felix laughs and nods toward the doorway, Chan's broad shoulders making it look tiny. His hand interlocked with hers, observing the room and briefly locking eyes with you before looking away.
Chan had been dating Euna for a few months, but it never got easier seeing them together.
They'd met in one of your classes, Euna was sweet, pretty and very popular with both the students and teachers. It hadn’t taken Chan too long to fall for her and spend less and less time with you. He swore nothing had changed between you two but you knew better. It wasn't long after they started dating that Chan began cancelling your plans because ‘Euna planned something’ or he ‘just couldn't make it that day’ You wanted to believe that it would all go back to the way it was soon enough but that day never came, Chan drifting further as time passed.
You missed his smile, the way he would make you laugh, the way he would bring you your favourite food when you were tired or upset. You thought that maybe one day you would be together, that Chan would see you as more than just his best friend. Sometimes it felt like more between you two.
He and Euna weave their way through the crowd, her trailing slightly behind, Chan looking back at her every so often with a smile, the sight of them making you nauseous though you wish it didn't. Chan lets go of her to pull Felix into a hug, Euna eyeing you awkwardly as the two of them catch up. Euna had never been rude to you, never made a snarky comment about you being friends with Chan, but she never really said much around you if you were honest.
‘’Your dress is super pretty’’ you squeak out attempting to break the silence between you two, She offers up a small thank you and a tight smile and turns to Chan as he pulls her into his side, his attention now on the two of you instead of the tipsy blonde Aussie
‘’Hey y/n’’ Chan smiles as he lets go of Euna and pulls you into a quick side hug, letting go as quickly as he’d pulled you in, his soft musky scent filling your senses. The four of you make small talk, Chan's eyes catching your own as Felix rambles to Euna about his current pc build. The air starts to feel suffocating, his glances making you feel trapped. You quickly make an excuse to leave, Chan's smile faltering as you excuse yourself from their conversation and disappear into the crowd of bodies.
It was impossible to think while Chan was standing there, his arms wrapped around Euna unapologetically. The jealousy burning more than the straight tequila sloshing around in your cup, you start to sway to the music begging yourself to forget about him and enjoy your night. You feel a pair of eyes follow your silhouette but you continue to drink and dance, the alcohol making its way through your system and drowning out every thought.
You feel a figure behind you grabbing your hips and swaying with you, turning your head to see the blurred outline of Hyunjin, his hair in his eyes, a pair of red sunglasses perched on his nose. You let yourself melt into him, you'd always found him attractive anyway. You and Hyunjin move together perfectly, his smooth movements guiding your own as he whispers the lyrics to the song in your ear, his plump lips catching your skin slightly. You finally move your eyes to Chan still feeling someone watching you, secretly wishing it was him. You’re met with a sharp glare, his eyes never leaving you and Hyunjin, his jaw locked in annoyance, you roll your eyes at him and turn around to face Hyunjin winding your arms around his slender neck.
You turn back to glance at Chan to find him charging your way, ripping you from your dance partner's embrace and towards the stairwell.
‘’Chan what the fuck are you doing?’’ you yell, trying to wriggle your wrist from his strong grip as he pulls you upstairs and into one of the empty bedrooms.
‘’What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are YOU doing y/n? Grinding all over Hyunjin like that’’
‘’We are not doing this right now, why does it have anything to do with you, Chan? Why do you even care?’’ venom coating your words, attempting to open the door and leave but being stopped short when he stands in the way, eyes burning into yours. Chan had never been like this with you, what had gotten into him?
‘’What? Are you suddenly into Hyunjin?? We both know he's not right for you y/n’’ his eyebrows knitted in annoyance.
‘’And how would you know what's best for me Chan? We hardly talk anymore!’’ you run your fingers through your hair, easing the tension building up behind your eyes.
‘’Of course we still talk, you know i've been busy’’ he fires back, disregarding how much space really had built up between the two of you.
’Give it up Chan and go back to Euna, what I do with Hyunjin has fuck all to do with you’’ you can't deal with the confusion, why is he acting like he's jealous of you and Hyunjin? Why does it matter to him?
‘’’I’m your best friend y/n of course it has something to do with me, he's not right for you’’
‘’Oh my god get your head out of your ass chan, just like you said, you're my best friend not my boyfriend. You can date but I can't? I'm not gonna wait on you to notice me for the rest of my life’’ You turn your face away from him, your confidence and fire slipping as Chan studies you intensely, the room silent apart from your breathing.
‘’My god you’re an idiot’’ Chan mumbles before grabbing your chin and smashing his lips onto yours, you melt into the kiss at first before snapping out of it and pushing him away
Chan what are you doing?’’ You feel dizzy as you maintain your balance, your hands still pressed against his toned chest. your lungs heaving in time with the thud of the music coming from below.
‘’You really have no idea, do you? I’m fucking in love with you y/n, why do you think I even started dating Euna in the first place, I wanted to get over you, why else would I jump into a relationship with a girl I hardly knew??’’ The annoyance in his voice evident as he goes on, he runs his hand through his hair repeatedly, messy waves falling in his face.
You stare up at him stunned, your lips parted in surprise, he pulls you back in, his lips covering yours as he presses you into him with fervour. He deepens the kiss and walks you backwards, his hands pressing into your hips, his hold nothing like hyunjins. He pulls away his eyes searching yours for something, anything.
“Tell me to stop, if you don't want this I’ll walk away” his voice is breathy and pained, evident that the last thing he wanted was for you to say now.
You've waited too long for this, for him to need you, touch you. You know it's wrong, his girlfriend just a floor below but you’ve wanted and waited too much to stop and walk away, you can deal with your moral shortcomings tomorrow.
‘’Please, Chan’’ you whisper, desperate for him to touch you again, clenching your thighs together as heat pools in your lower stomach, your insides on fire for him. He watches how desperate you are for him, your answer clear.
‘’Fuck you’re perfect’’ you look at him pleadingly and he can't hold back anymore, he’d thought about you like this too many times to count, in dreams and when awake. When he can't sleep and he fucks his fist wishing it was you, how pretty your moans would sound as he rocked into you, how tight you'd be around him, how his cum would leak out of your fluttering hole. He was too far gone, a man possessed.
You gasp as he pushes you back on the bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress perfectly, he licks and nips at your jaw, his hand finding your soaked underwear under your skirt, circling your puffy clit through the slick fabric.
“You’re so wet for me baby, bet Hyunjin could never have this effect on you. Gonna fuck you so good you'll forget he exists’’ his words making you tingle, his fingers exactly where you need them.
‘’Only want you’’ Your voice comes out breathy and fucked out even though he’s barely touched you and it sends a rush of blood to Chan's already rock-solid cock, straining against the tight fabric of his black jeans.
He sinks two fingers into your tight pussy and you scream in pleasure and pain at the intrusion, his fingers so much thicker and longer than yours, the stretch taking your breath away
‘’Yeah be a good girl and take my fingers in that tight little cunt, I know you can’’ The way he whispers as your pussy stretches around his fingers and wet squelches echo through the room has you throwing your head back, Chans other hand finding your tits as he stretches you out for him. You shake as he moves his fingers in and out of you, the stretch now dissolved into intense pleasure. He can tell you're close, your eyes closed in pleasure as you sigh out his name.
‘’cum for me pretty, cum around my fingers’’ You moan his name over and over as he rubs your soaking clit and plunges his fingers into your sopping hole, your back arching in pleasure as he works you through your high. Shouting his name as you cum on his fingers. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean. The sight alone already making you needy for more
‘’Need you so bad baby, need to feel you milk my cock’’ he breathes out as he undoes his belt, desperate to be inside of you. You spread your sticky thighs, your glistening pussy on full display for him. His cock springs free from its confines, his pink tip leaking down onto the rest of his thick veiny length. It was no surprise he had the prettiest cock you'd ever seen. He gives it a few pumps, slapping your clit with his bulbous tip, and you moan in pleasure at the sting.
‘’Take it, baby. Gonna stretch you out so good, gonna make you mine’’ his voice shaky as he presses into you, your pussy spasming around his hard length splitting you open, he slowly bottoms out with a moan stilling inside you. His cock making your stomach bulge with his size
‘’Fuckfuckfuckkkk you're still so tight, such a perfect pussy’’ his words coming out more like a mantra, the feeling of you around him making him pussydrunk. He fucks in and out of you grabbing your thighs, spreading you wider for him, watching where you’re joined as he takes you.
‘’talk to me baby girl, tell me how I make you feel’’
‘’Love it when you fuck me Channie, love your cock so much’’ your voice strained and whiny, writhing against the sheets as he sets a rough pace. He spits on your pussy, the liquid dripping down to where you meet, the sight only aiding his pleasure.
‘’Bet you thought about this huh? Thought about how good it would feel when I ruin you, hmm baby? Bet you’d touch this little clit thinking about how good I would fuck you?’’ His thrusts become sloppy as he nears his orgasm, his fingers coming to circle your clit. Your moans getting louder as you get close for the second time.
‘’Cum with me baby, wanna cum in this pussy, fill you up with my cum’’ his thrusts getting more erratic and desperate as you orgasm together. You scream his name, your nails digging into his toned back muscles. Chan stills as he spurts his hot release into you, his cum painting your insides a milky white. He collapses onto you, his muscled chest pressed against your fucked out form, both of you breathing heavily.
‘’Fuck you're mine, just mine’’ he whispers, his cock still inside you, both your release leaking out around his still hard dick..
‘’Yeah just yours, Channie’’ you breathe out dreamily, still coming down from your high
You both lay like that for a while, Chan's face tucked into your neck, leaving gentle kisses, his cock stiffening again inside of you, the party coming to an end downstairs. Things had happened so fast you hadn't realised Chan brought you to his own room, the purple lights giving his skin a lilac hue.
‘’Chan. What happens now?” You hesitate not wanting to ruin the moment, praying you didn't just fuck everything up with him with a simple question.
He sighs into your skin snuggling closer ‘’I meant it when I said you're mine y/n, Euna knows she and I are done, she knew I was in love with you. I want this, I want you’’ his voice soft and sleepy.
Your heart nearly explodes, ‘’I love you too Chan, I want you too’’ you kiss him passionately, his tongue fighting yours for dominance, smiling into the kiss as he begins moving inside you again. It feels like a dream and you can't believe he's in love with you too, that he wants you like you want him. Now you have him you'll never let him go, you have always been his, even if he didn't know it.
‘’It's always been you y/n’’
-ty for reading!! Alr working on more hehe
Crave you
pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader
genre: smut, fluff
synopsis: you wake up craving your boyfriend.
wc: 1.3k
warnings: oral (m), somnophilia, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: i usually don't do requests, but an anonie sent in an ask for their birthday and i wanted to write something for them, if you're reading this i hope you like it and it's what you wanted🫶🏻 happy bday💕
~masterlist
The warmness of the sun was peeking through your curtains, warming you up even further than you already were.
With all the blankets thrown over you and the warm body pressing against your backside, you were more than comfortable.
Your lovely boyfriend finally had a few days off and he wanted to spend them attached to your hip, which of course you were excited about.
As you were slowly waking up, your eyes still closed, the familiar smell of you and Hyunjin was enveloping your senses and making you tingle.
Hyunjin had his arms around you, his hand on your breast of course, 'for emotional support', as he'd say and you pushed back into him, your core throbbing with want.
You listened to his slow deep breaths, realizing he was fast asleep, not moving a muscle but still as you wiggled your ass against his crotch, you could feel him getting hard, his cock pressing against you.
Arousal pooled on your panties, waves of hotness running over your body, you were needier than ever.
You managed to slither out of his arms somehow (after lots of struggling because he didn't want to let go of you), turning towards him as he grunted a little, smacking his lips before continuing to sleep.
Perfect, you thought, your eyes raking all over his frame, he looked so beautiful, angelic even, a vision of everything you love right there in your bed.
You didn't want to waste much time as you felt impatient, your hand reaching out for his bulge as you grabbed it gently, palming him for a few moments.
Hyunjin moaned in his sleep, pushing up into you without even realizing it.
You hooked your fingers in his boxers and slid them down, his cock slapping against his abdomen, hot and heavy, so delicious just for you.
You leaned in as you wrapped your fingers around the base, your tongue darting out to pick up the pre cum oozing out of his tip.
The salty liquid woke your taste buds up, spurring you on as you started swirling your tongue around his head.
Hyunjin's breathing became ragged but he was still asleep, his fingers twitching by his side as you played with your tongue, dipping it into his slit and down his sensitive underside.
Hyunjin's legs trembled as you wrapped your lips around the tip, sucking on it, your free hand fondling his balls.
"Mm... ah!" he moaned, jolting into you when you squeezed him, slowly taking more of his length in.
His hips moved involuntarily, lifting up to meet you half away as you started sucking on him slowly, the tip of your tongue running over the prominent vein gracing his entire length.
"L-love..." he was waking up now, blinking before looking down at you with a mix of lust and confusion that almost made you laugh, but he was too deep inside your mouth so you just hummed around him.
"Oh! That feels good." his head fell back into the pillow, his voice deep and laced with sleep, his hair a mess around his face which was now twisted in pleasure as you started bobbing your head faster.
"Fuck, darling!" he whined, his hand tangling in your hair as you kept taking him in, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water but it only made you even more hungry to have him inside you.
You lifted off of him and he whimpered, looking at you like he was completely lost in you and the pleasure you were giving him, his brain still in the state of sleep.
"I need you, Jinnie." you slid your shirt off, before hooking your fingers in your panties.
"I'm right here baby." he said, lifting up but you pushed him down with your hand on his chest.
"Lay back, lover." you smirked at him and he groaned, his head hitting the pillow once again.
Tossing your panties somewhere behind you, you threw your leg over him, grabbing his cock and running it over your wet folds.
"Ah please, put it in." Hyunjin whines, hot and bothered from the way you woke him up.
You moan in response, slowly sinking down on his cock, the stretch is always delicious as you take him in all the way until his tip kisses your cervix and you sit on him, circling your hips a little to adjust.
Hyunjin's eyes roll back, his hands on your thighs as he grips the flesh.
You start to slowly move your hips, lifting up only a little and Hyunjin is already a moaning mess, his eyes falling down as he stares at the place where the two of you are connected.
He looks mesmerized as you fuck yourself on him, his big hands running all over your thighs to your waist and up to your breasts as he squeezes them, playing with your perky nipples.
Your eyes flutter closed as you lose yourself in the feeling of Hyunjin filling you up perfectly, his cock stretching you just right and touching you in all the right places, like it was made just for you.
You start fucking on him harder, lifting up more as your juices coat his length and drip down into his trimmed bush, you keep taking him in deeper as your hips smack down on his deliciously.
Hyunjin groans, his eyes shut tight, brows furrowed, his middle lifting up into yours, meeting your movement as his skin glistens with sweat.
You look down as you keep rocking on him, your eyes caught on the little hairs sticking to his sweaty forehead, the way his eyelashes lay on his skin, the way he keeps licking and biting at his lips, little moans and gasps of pleasure leaving them.
Your eyes fall to his neck, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows and you clench around him, making him whine.
Hyunjin opens his eyes and looks at you, almost crossed eyed from the pleasure and something burns inside his soul when he sees the way your eyes travel all over his body, the way you fuck on him, taking him so well, your titties bouncing with every movement.
He grips your hips and starts fucking up into you harder, the bed creaking under you and you almost fall apart when he starts abusing your hole like that.
A string of loud moans and curses leave your lips as you become putty in his hold, your pussy clenching around him, his pelvis stimulating your clit as it keeps rubbing against him.
You cry out as you come, squirting on him with tears of pleasure gathering in your eyes and Hyunjin groans, fucking up into you hard twice before you feel his cock twitch followed by hot spurts of cum filling you up to the brim.
You whine, riding out your high as you keep moving against him, milking him dry.
"B-baby..." Hyunjin whimpers, his whole body shuddering against the bed and you lean down to capture his lips in a passionate, loving kiss.
You lay on top of him as he slips out, and you can feel his cum seeping out of your fucked out pussy, both of you wet but you don't care, you need to be close to each other.
His arms wrap around you as he gently caresses your hair, carding his fingers through it, leaving little kisses on your head.
You listen to his heartbeat, almost falling asleep against him until he giggles.
"What's gotten into you? Not that I'm complaining, just curious." Hyunjin smiles cutely as you look up at him.
"I just needed you." you pout and he chuckles again.
"My sweet girl. You can take me whenever you need me." he grabs your face gently, guiding you to his lips. "I love you."
"I love you so much, Jinnie." you mumble against his lips.
"That was the best way to wake me up, but tomorrow morning I'm returning the favor." he smirks and you laugh happily, kissing him again.
You're in no hurry to get up, even if you need to wash up and eat because stealing as many moments as you can with Hyunjin is more meaningful than anything.
~taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @jeonginslefthand @porangporangmeong @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana
the way I loved you
── .✦ content warning : SMUT! MDI!! fem!reader; academic rivals; enemies with benefits; one bed trope; angry love confession in the rain; explicit sex; oral (f and m receiving); dry humping; unproteced sex; litgh degratation; public sex; kinda sub seung;
✮⋆˙ pairing: academic rival seungmin × fem!reader
✮⋆˙ word count: 14,4k
✮⋆˙ synopsis: “We were academic rivals — until we weren’t. Now I can’t tell if I want to outscore him or ride him until he begs.”
✮⋆˙ A/N: heyy!! I had so much fun writing this one cause I kinda reunited all my fav tropes together, so I hope you guys enjoyed it!! please reblog it and lmk what you think ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
I hated him. Absolutely hated.
Hated those stupid, wide puppy eyes that tricked everyone into thinking he was harmless. Hated the way his hair flopped perfectly over his forehead like he was in some damn shampoo commercial. Hated those stupid, plump lips that probably got away with too much just by existing.
But most of all — I hated that smile. That pretty, cocky smile he flashed like he knew something I didn’t.
Every time he looked at me with that skeptical little tilt of his head, the one that screamed “I'm better than you haha” — yes, I could hear the cartoon villain laugh — I knew, deep in my soul, that I could strangle him.
Still debating tho if I’d prefer to do it with my hands or my thighs.
The worst part? It wasn’t just rage pooling low in my stomach.
It pissed me off how he could make me hate him and want him at the same time.
Fucking disgusting.
When Professor Lee handed back our essays and Seungmin’s stupid name was sitting pretty at the top with a shiny gold “A+”, I didn’t even think.
I whipped my head around, caught his eyes across the lecture hall, and mouthed: “Rigged.”
His mouth curved into that slow, infuriating smirk, the kind that crawled under my skin and set it on fire.
He leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head like he owned the goddamn place, and mouthed back, exaggerated and slow: “Don't be mad just because you’re second best, sweetheart.”
Complete with a wink.
A goddamn wink.
I could feel the heat rising from my chest to my ears. Rage. Or something dangerously close to it.
Seungmin tilted his head, still watching me like I was a particularly amusing science experiment. His eyes glinted, and I knew — I knew — he wasn’t going to let this go.
When class ended, I shoved my notebook into my bag and bolted for the door, hoping he’d get the hint. Of course he didn’t.
He caught up easily, his steps lazy, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets like he hadn’t just declared academic war ten minutes ago.
“Rough day, princess?” he asked, voice dripping mock-sympathy.
I didn’t even look at him. “Bite me, Seungmin.”
“Careful,” he said, his voice dropping half an octave. “Might take that as an invitation.”
I stopped walking and turned to him so fast he almost collided with me. He did collide, his chest bumping into mine with a low thud that made both of us stiffen on reflex.
For a second — a stupid, reckless second — we just stood there. Breathing the same air. Close enough that I could see the tiny mole in the middle of the bridge of his nose. Close enough that I could smell the faint hint of mint gum and something warm and boyish underneath.
His eyes flickered down to my mouth — fast, involuntary. My heart hammered against my ribs. Not from fear. From something far worse. He caught himself a beat too late and pulled back a step, but it was already too late.
I smirked.
“Problem?” he asked, trying to sound bored, but his voice was rougher now. Edgier.
“You wish,” I snapped, shoving his chest lightly with my hand.
It wasn’t enough to move him, but it made him smile — that crooked, infuriating, I-know-you-want-me smile. I wanted to punch him. Or grab him by the hoodie strings and crash our mouths together. Maybe both.
“Tell you what,” he said, hands sliding casually into his pockets, pretending like his pulse wasn’t visible on his throat. “Winner of the next project challenge picks a punishment for the loser. No rules.”
I raised an eyebrow, chest still rising and falling too fast. “You’re serious?”
He nodded, slow, like daring me to back down. “Afraid to lose?” he teased, voice pure poison wrapped in honey.
I narrowed my eyes. “You're on.”
His smirk stretched wider — a flash of sharp teeth and gleaming mischief. “Try not to cry when you lose, princess.”
“Worry about your own dignity first, loser.”
He stepped closer again — not touching, but close enough that my body registered the heat pouring off him. “Oh, princess…” he murmured, low and deliberate. “You’ll be begging me for mercy by the end of it.”
Then, without waiting for my reply, he turned on his heel and walked away, hands in his pockets, whistling some stupid upbeat tune like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb between us.
I stood there, heart pounding, palms sweating, fists clenched at my sides. Already plotting how I was going to destroy him.
Or how I was going to let him destroy me.
Maybe both.
If working in the same room as Seungmin was supposed to be a punishment from hell, it was starting to feel a lot more like slow torture.
The worst kind. The kind where you like it.
We weren’t even officially working together — our articles were separate — but somehow, like roaches or debt collectors, he always managed to appear wherever I was: library, café, empty classrooms.
And every time, the same thing: Provocations. Smirks. Stupid bets.
We sat across from each other now, laptops open, papers strewn everywhere. My screen glowed under the cheap library lights, reflecting the blank document I hadn't touched in twenty minutes.
Because Seungmin was there. Existing. Breathing. Tapping his stupid pen against his stupid mouth like he had no idea how distracting he was.
I chewed the end of my pencil, glaring at my thesis statement like it was all its fault.
“Need help, princess?” he drawled, spinning lazily in his chair.
“I'd rather set myself on fire,” I muttered, not looking up.
He chuckled under his breath — that soft, infuriating laugh that always made my skin prickle.
I refused to glance at him. Refused to notice the way his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, veins visible on his forearms. Refused to notice how he tapped his pen in an unconscious rhythm that somehow matched the way my heart stuttered when he leaned back and stretched like a smug little shit.
Focus. Focus.
I bent lower over my keyboard, typing harder than necessary.
He reached across the table to steal my highlighter, and his fingers brushed mine — quick, electric. My body jolted before my brain could catch up.
He smirked. Saw it. Filed it away for later.
I hated him. Absolutely hated.
If hating him included wondering what his hands would feel like pressed somewhere else, well — that was between me and my rapidly deteriorating sanity.
Three hours, five insults, and two coffee runs later, we submitted our articles
I stood stiffly at the front of the lecture hall, arms crossed, waiting for the verdict. Seungmin stood next to me, too close. His shoulder brushed mine once. I moved. He moved closer again.
Asshole.
Professor Lee shuffled through the papers, humming thoughtfully.
Finally, he smiled — a slow, proud smile. “Excellent work from both of you.”
I exhaled. Barely.
“But…” He held up one article.
And I saw it. My name. Bold. Clear. Victorious. I blinked. Once. Twice. I won.
The shock punched through me, followed by something molten and dizzying: triumph. I turned slowly to Seungmin, ready to gloat.
His face was unreadable — that blank, impassive mask he wore when he didn’t want anyone to know he was losing his shit inside. Which meant he was furious.
I smiled sweetly. Sickeningly. “Aw. Better luck next time, loser.”
He tilted his head, mouth twitching like he was fighting a smirk.
“Don’t get too cocky. One win doesn’t make you better.”
“No, but it makes you worse.”
He stepped closer, enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. Enough that I could feel the heat coming off his skin again.
His eyes dropped to my mouth — quick, instinctive — and I hated how it made my pulse jump.
Before either of us could say something, even dumber, Professor Lee cleared his throat. “Both of you — a word, please.”
We turned, startled, as if remembering there was a whole room watching.
He led us to his desk, his expression serious.
“You two have been selected to represent our department at the International Academic Congress next weekend.” He paused for effect. “An honor. Only given to our best.”
My brain blanked.
Congress? An entire weekend?
With Seungmin?
I felt my stomach flip in the worst way.
Beside me, Seungmin shoved his hands in his pockets, feigning boredom — but I caught the twitch of his jaw. He hated surprises. Almost as much as I hated liking the idea of being trapped with him somewhere far from rules and reputations.
“You’ll be presenting your articles separately, of course,” Professor Lee continued. “But you’ll be traveling together. Hotel accommodations are arranged.”
I nodded, tight, pretending not to panic.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Seungmin turn his head, studying me carefully. Like he knew exactly what I was thinking. Like he was already plotting how to use this against me.
I gritted my teeth and forced a tight smile. Seungmin smirked, slow and lethal.
This was war.
And I was already losing.
The conference was supposed to be an exciting opportunity. At least, that’s what I told myself when I boarded the plane. A few days away from the usual routine, presenting my research for relevant people, making connections—sounds like a dream, right? In theory. The reality? Well, the idea of spending two days in close proximity to Seungmin was a *little* less appealing. But hey, I was here for the experience. And because I didn’t have much of a choice.
The flight was long, and Seungmin had already made himself an expert at finding ways to annoy me.
He sat one row behind me, but naturally, he ended up next to me when the seatbelt sign was switched off. Classic Seungmin move. “Mind if I join you?” he asked as if I had a say in the matter.
I didn’t even bother to look at him. “Please, make yourself at home.” I said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in my voice.
Seungmin didn’t waste any time. He slid into the seat beside me like we’d been lifelong friends, his shoulder brushing mine in the process. "You know,” he said, stretching his legs out a little too far into my space, “I actually enjoy these long flights. So much time to read, think, or just bother you.”
I pretended to focus on the screen in front of me, but it was hard to ignore him when he practically moved in. “Lucky me,” I muttered, trying my best to be invisible.
He grinned, clearly unfazed. “You could at least pretend to enjoy my company. I’m doing you a favor, really.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you are.” I said dryly.
Seungmin leaned in closer, like he was about to share a deeply profound thought. “I think you’re just afraid of my charm.”
“I’m not afraid of your charm,” I said flatly. “I’m just trying to survive the flight without having to throw you out of the window.”
“You'd kill all of these people if you opened that window, you know that, right?”
Of course I knew, who whe thought I was?
I could practically hear him smirking, even though I refused to look at him. He was annoyingly good at finding ways to make my blood pressure rise with minimal effort.
By the time we landed, I was exhausted—not from the flight, but from keeping my cool around him. The conference itself? That was going to be cakewalk compared to this.
We finally made it through the airport and to the hotel. The city was exactly what I expected: bigger, louder, and more chaotic than I needed. I then with that all my excitement died and I was so ready to be done with everything.
The lobby was eerily quiet, the kind of place where every sound felt exaggerated. When we approached the reception desk, the receptionist greeted us with a smile so practiced it almost looked fake. I wasn’t in the mood for polite exchanges. The way she glanced at Seungmin—almost too interested—made my skin crawl.
She typed something on her keyboard while keeping her eyes on the screen, then lifted her gaze to us with that same, professional smile. “Good afternoon. How can I help you?”
I stepped up first, handing over my conference credential with a formality I didn’t really feel but was trying to project. It made me look like I had my life together, something that wasn’t going to be ruined by an unexpected trip with my academic rival.
“Hi, we’re from the Department of Social Sciences at National University. We're here for the research congress.”
She glanced at the screen for a moment longer, tapping away before meeting our eyes again. “Ah, of course. Everything’s set for you.” She grabbed a key from behind the desk, placing it on the counter with that same pleasant smile. “Here’s your key. You’ll be in room 325.”
I grabbed the key, but something felt off. The way she handed it to us made me stop, the words almost caught in my throat.
“Just one key?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, hoping the confusion I was feeling didn’t show too obviously. It didn’t make sense that she was giving us a single key for both of us, especially since I knew the rooms were supposed to be separate.
The receptionist looked at me like my question was perfectly normal. “Yes, one key for each couple of participants.”
I blinked, mouth slightly open. A couple? Did she just assume…? I glanced over at Seungmin, who was casually leaning against the counter, an eyebrow raised.
He caught my look and immediately let out a low chuckle. Of course, he found this funny. “What? You didn’t think we were a couple?” He gave me a wink, his voice dripping with that infuriating confidence.
I felt my face flush with a mix of annoyance and… something else. I wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand, but honestly, why was the receptionist so sure of that? Was I really giving off those kinds of vibes?
I couldn’t suppress my irritation.
“We’re not a couple,” I snapped, a little too harshly. “We’re just… two students who happened to be presenting at the same event.”
The receptionist merely nodded, completely unfazed. She didn’t seem to think anything was out of the ordinary about the situation. “Oh, I see. Well, the rooms are all prepared. Would you like me to change the key?”
Before I could open my mouth to say anything, Seungmin was quicker. He grabbed the key off the counter with an air of ease that only made me more frustrated. He was enjoying this, I could tell.
“No, it's okay,” he said smoothly, his eyes flicking to me with that self-satisfied gleam. “We’re fine with it.”
He turned to me, the smugness on his face practically radiating. Of course, this would be his idea of a good time.
I shot him a death glare but said nothing. He was always so quick to take charge of situations that were inconvenient for me. It annoyed the hell out of me.
The receptionist, apparently oblivious to the tension, gave us a polite nod. “Enjoy your stay!”
I didn’t bother replying. Instead, I grabbed my bag and turned away, trying my hardest to ignore Seungmin’s amused expression as I walked to the elevator.
“I can’t believe you’re okay with this,” I muttered under my breath, trying to sound angry, but I knew I wasn’t fooling anyone.
Seungmin followed behind me, taking his time.
The elevator ride up to the third floor was a quiet one, and as we stepped out into the hallway, I could already feel the weight of the situation sinking in. The reality of having to share a room with Seungmin was a lot less fun when you were actually facing it.
Seungmin, still as calm as ever, walked ahead of me toward room 325. His hand was already on the doorknob when I caught up.
I hesitated, then turned to him. “I seriously don’t think this is a good idea.”
Seungmin paused, his back to me, then slowly glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. For a second, there was no hint of a smirk. “What’s the worst that could happen?” he asked quietly.
I wanted to answer— everything —but he was already opening the door.
The door swung open, and I stepped inside, Seungmin trailing right behind me. The room was… fine. Clean, neat — boring in the way all conference hotels were. But then my gaze hit the bed.
One. Single. Bed.
A king-size, sure. But still — one bed. No second mattress tucked in a corner. No pull-out couch. Just that massive betrayal sitting right in the middle of the room like it knew exactly what it was doing.
I froze, dread pooling in my stomach.
Seungmin bumped into me from behind and cursed under his breath. “Wait. Are you fucking serious?” His voice was low, disbelieving.
I didn’t even look at him. I just stared at the bed like it had personally betrayed me.
I turned to him slowly, my face blank with disbelief. “Well, unless you’re planning on summoning another bed out of thin air, yeah, we’re serious.” I waved my hand dramatically toward the offending mattress.
Seungmin stepped around me, eyeing the bed like it had personally insulted his family. “They expect us to sleep in the same bed?” he asked, incredulous.
“Apparently ‘academic excellence’ comes with complimentary sexual tension. Maybe they'll even throw in some rose petals and a bottle of champagne while we're at it too.” I muttered, folding my arms.
He snorted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
“No shit. You think I did?” I snapped. The sarcasm was practically a second language between us at this point.
The room already felt too small, the air too charged.
He looked at me, his expression sharpening into something defensive. “Don’t flatter yourself, princess. I’d rather cuddle a cactus.”
I gave him a slow, sarcastic smile. “Cute. I was about to say you could sleep outside with the stray dogs. You’d fit right in.”
He threw me a sideways look, half a smirk playing on his lips. “If it’s that unbearable, I can sleep on the floor. Wouldn’t want you losing sleep over me.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I practically saw my brain. “The floor’s probably cleaner than whatever germs you’re carrying anyway.”
The tension crackled between us — electric, unbearable. We both stood there, stubbornly glaring at the bed, as if sheer willpower would make it disappear.
Seungmin shook his head, glancing once more at the cursed bed like it might suddenly sprout another mattress. “This is unbelievable. Who the hell organizes a conference like this?”
“Maybe it's a new academic technique.” I deadpanned. “See who survives forced proximity without committing murder.”
He actually snorted at that, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He shook his head, still clearly pissed off. “This is ridiculous. What’s next, sharing a toothbrush?”
I snapped back, my sarcasm sharp as a knife. “Oh, I’m sure that’s exactly what’s going to happen. They’ll give us matching PJs next, too.”
We stood there for another long, heavy beat, neither of us moving.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Seungmin exhaled sharply and said: “We’re not gonna survive this if we keep acting like kids.”
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Screw it. We'll put a damn pillow wall in the middle. Switzerland rules: you stay on your side, I stay on mine.”
“Fine. But if you snore, I’m suffocating you with a pillow.”
“If you steal the covers, I’m kicking you onto the floor.” I shot back.
He met my glare with one of his own, but there was something else beneath it now.
Something heavier. Thicker. Neither of us said it, but we both felt it. The heat. The pull.
I slung my bag over my shoulder, already moving toward the door. “Let's just get through the conference first. We'll deal with... this trainwreck later.”
Seungmin didn’t argue this time. He just muttered under his breath, low enough that I almost missed it: “Yeah... easier said than done.”
We step off the elevator and into a wide, polished corridor leading to the conference rooms. The air smells faintly of burnt coffee, new carpet, and desperation. The walls are covered in generic modern art — squares inside of other squares — like they were trying very hard to seem sophisticated without actually having a soul. I already feel the weight of expectation pressing down on me like a headache.
Seungmin walks beside me, hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking unimpressed with life itself. His hair falls messily into his eyes, but he doesn’t bother fixing it. Typical.
His eyes dart around the hallway, scanning faces like he’s already categorizing who’s worth ignoring. “Ready to pretend we care?” he mutters, voice pitched low enough just for me.
“Thrilled,” I deadpan, not even glancing at him. “Can’t wait to have my brain melted by endless talks about sustainable quinoa farming.”
He snorts, biting back a laugh. “Sounds like your dream date.”
“Yup. Right up there with tax seminars and dental surgery.”
We keep walking, moving with the flow of the crowd. I can see the bright lights of the conference rooms ahead, and it's all I can do to not roll my eyes at the sheer formality of it all. The event feels more like a display of ‘look how important we are’ than anything else.
He grins — a real one, small and crooked — before drifting off toward a group near the front, already blending in like a professional social chameleon. I roll my eyes and slink toward the back, sinking into an empty chair, pulling out my phone just to avoid making small talk with strangers who all think they’re smarter than everyone else.
The speaker drones on about something to do with regenerative soil or whatever. I zone out, letting the words wash over me like white noise.
That’s when I notice him — a guy standing near the refreshment table, dressed casually enough to look out of place among all the tight blazers and forced smiles. He’s got a lazy grin, a coffee cup in one hand, and the vibe of someone who definitely isn’t taking this seriously.
Our eyes meet by accident. I immediately look away, pretending to be fascinated by my own shoes.
Too late.
Footsteps approach, and a moment later, he’s there, leaning on the back of the chair next to mine like he owns the place, like he’s got nothing better to do.
“Hey.” he says when he’s standing in front of me, offering a slight, disarming grin. “I don’t know if you’re as bored as I am, but I swear this place feels like a corporate zombie apocalypse.”
I glance up at him. His voice is light, teasing, and there's a mischievous glint in his eye that reminds me — alarmingly — of someone else I know. He's charming, but not in the typical, obnoxious way.
I can’t help a small smirk. “I’m pretty sure zombies would be more interesting. At least they’d be honest about their intentions.”
“You look about as thrilled as I feel,” he says with a grin.
“Is it that obvious?” I say, tilting my head. “I thought I was hiding it so well.”
“Subtle as a brick to the face,” he deadpans, smiling wider.
I snort before I can stop myself. Okay, he's funny. Dangerous.
“Chan,” he says, holding out a hand like we’re not at the most painfully formal event on earth.
“Y/N,” I reply, shaking his hand briefly before pulling back.
Chan smirks. “So, Y/N... what's your poison? Boring keynote speeches or awkward networking attempts?”
I fake think about it. “Mmm... death by boredom sounds slightly less painful.”
He chuckles. “Agreed. I’m just here for the free coffee and questionable snack trays.”
“You’re brave. I think those pastries have been alive longer than some of the speakers.”
He laughs — a real, full laugh — and leans closer like we’re already conspirators. “Survival of the fittest. Or the most caffeinated.”
I smirk, feeling a little lighter despite myself.
“Guess I’ll see you at the coffee table battlefield later, then.”
“Only if you’re prepared to fight dirty.” He winks. “I swear, if they put any more bland hors d'oeuvres out there, I might start questioning why I even left my house for this.”
I can’t help it—I actually laugh at that. “Yeah, I’d rather be at home, in my pajamas, eating cereal. At least I know it’s not going to taste like cardboard.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, so you're one of those people. Respect.”
There's a beat of silence, and for a moment, we just stand there, awkward in the best way. But I don’t mind it. It's kind of refreshing to talk to someone who isn’t immediately making small talk about "networking."
Nick shrugs, his eyes glinting with a bit of humor. “So, what’s your take on all of this? The conference, I mean. I’m assuming you’re not here for the food production knowledge either.”
I think about it for a moment before responding. “Honestly? It’s not exactly what I expected. I thought it’d be more... engaging, that I'd have a great opportunity to talk about my research, but it’s mostly just people trying to sound important.”
Nick nods knowingly, looking amused. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the vibe I’m getting too.”
I’m about to fire back something sarcastic when the temperature of the room shifts. I feel it before I see him — that tightening sensation in the air.
I turn slightly, and there he is.
Seungmin.
Standing a few feet away, arms crossed tight over his chest, shoulders rigid. His mouth is pressed into a thin line, but it’s his eyes — sharp, dark — that give him away.
He's staring at Chan like he’s a mosquito buzzing too close.
Chan notices too, casting a casual glance over his shoulder. “Didn’t realize you had company,” Chan says easily, raising an eyebrow at Seungmin.
Seungmin’s smile is a weapon — all teeth, no warmth. “Yeah. She’s with me.”
She’s with me.
My eyebrows shoot up, but I say nothing.
Seungmin’s jaw clenches, and he steps forward, his gaze still fixed on me, but the edge to his voice has softened slightly as he addresses me. “Y/N, we should go.”
Chan shrugs like he couldn’t care less. “Right. I’ll catch you later, Y/N.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, feeling the weight of Seungmin’s presence beside me. “Later.”
He flashes me one last grin before wandering off, utterly unbothered.
The second he’s gone, Seungmin steps closer, his body language screaming tension. His glare burns into me, his jaw flexing as if he’s chewing on all the words he can’t say out loud.
The air between us is thick, but I can’t help it. I need to poke at him, need to let him know that I see right through his little act.
I cross my arms, matching his posture. “You gonna tell me why you look like you’re about to start a bar fight?” I ask sweetly.
He huffs through his nose, looking anywhere but at me.
We head back toward the front, the noise of the conference around us feeling a hundred times louder. The tension doesn’t seem to let up, and I know this is just the beginning of whatever this is between us, the silence between us thick enough to choke on.
I can’t help myself.
“You know,” I say, tilting my head toward him. “you’re acting like I committed a crime by talking to someone with a better haircut than you.” I lied, Chans's haircut isn't better than his long bangs that falls onto his eyes.
Seungmin’s jaw tightens, his eyes flickering toward me, but he says nothing. His lips are pressed together in a thin line, and the way his fingers flex against his crossed arms doesn’t escape me. He’s annoyed.
I grin to myself, enjoying this just a little too much. “I mean, it’s not like I invited him to a romantic dinner or anything,” I continue, my tone teasing. “But I did notice your death stare. If looks could kill, I think I’d be six feet under right now.”
Seungmin's head snaps toward me, eyes narrowed. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” I tease. “Because from where I’m standing, it looked a lot like jealousy. Like… borderline ‘punch a guy over a coffee joke’ levels of jealousy.”
He stops walking abruptly, forcing me to stop too. He steps closer — too close — and lowers his voice so only I can hear.
“I’m not jealous.”
I tilt my head, giving him a sidelong glance. “Really? Because it kind of seemed like you were about to challenge him to a duel or something.”
Seungmin glances at me, his expression unreadable, but I can tell he’s getting more irritated by the second. He stops walking again, and his eyes narrow in that way he does when he’s not sure whether to get sarcastic or serious. “I don’t care, okay?” he finally says, voice sharp. “But you could’ve at least told me you were—whatever—you know, talking to him.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “Oh, so I’m supposed to run my social interactions past you now? Got it, boss.”
Seungmin’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t smile. “It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it about, exactly?” I prod, stepping closer to him. “You sure you’re not feeling a little... territorial?”
“Territorial?” He glares at me, clearly trying to keep his cool. “What, like some caveman marking his territory?”
I raise an eyebrow, smirking. “More like a chihuahua, actually.”
Seungmin glares, his ears pinking. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re adorable when you’re angry,” I shoot back, my grin widening.
He lets out a short, frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Keep pushing, princess. See what happens.”
I arch an eyebrow, leaning closer, letting my shoulder brush his for just a second longer than necessary. “Maybe I’m counting on it.”
For a heartbeat, we just stare at each other — the conference noise fading into the background — locked in this stupid, electric standoff.
Then he huffs, muttering under his breath as he turns to walk ahead of me: “You’re gonna drive me insane.”
I smile, slow and wicked, before following him back into the crowd.
The second the door to the hotel room clicked shut behind us, the weight of reality hit again — one bed.
Still just one.
I sighed loudly, dropping my bag near the dresser.
Seungmin tossed his hoodie onto a chair and stretched his arms above his head, way too nonchalant for someone about to sleep three inches away from their mortal enemy.
“Guess we’re really doing this,” I muttered, staring at the bed like it was a battlefield.
“What’s wrong, princess? Afraid you won’t survive one night without jumping me?” he teased, kicking off his shoes.
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.
“Please. I’m more worried about you crying because I stole all the covers.”
He laughed, short and sharp. “In your dreams.”
We stood there for a second, facing the bed like it killed someone of our family.
“Truce?” I offered reluctantly, lifting a pillow.
“Temporary ceasefire.” He smirked. “Until you start snoring and ruin my life.”
I flipped him off without ceremony and started building a pathetic little wall of pillows down the middle of the mattress.
He watched, arms crossed, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “Very professional. I feel safer already.”
“Good. Now if you so much as breathe on my side, I’m kicking you out.”
“Looking forward to it.”
I grabbed my pajamas and locked myself in the bathroom before I could throw something at his smug face. Changing into my satin slip felt almost ridiculous. It wasn’t even that revealing — thin straps, low neckline, cut just short enough to be a problem if you looked too long — but somehow, the second I caught my reflection, I hesitated.
Why the hell did it feel like I was getting ready for something? I shook off the thought and stepped out.
Seungmin was sprawled across his side of the bed, now wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, no shirt. His skin caught the soft hotel lighting, warm and distracting. He was tapping away at his phone, pretending not to notice me.
He looked up when he heard the door click.
And froze.
Just for a second.
Eyes raking over me in one quick, betraying sweep before he schooled his face back into something vaguely unimpressed. “Nice pajamas,” he said casually. “Planning to seduce the minibar?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Planning to murder you in your sleep, actually.”
He grinned — wide, wolfish. “Kinky.”
I gave him my middle finger again and climbed into my side of the bed, tugging the covers up to my chest like armor.
Seungmin tossed his phone onto the nightstand and settled against the pillows, arms behind his head. The faint glow of the bedside lamp carved shadows down his chest, and I hated — *hated* — that my eyes kept betraying me, sliding over the lines of his collarbone, the dip of his stomach.
I turned off the light with an aggressive click. The darkness didn’t help.
We lay there, stiff, silent, breathing the same charged air. The pillow barrier might as well have been made of tissue paper.
Minutes stretched. The kind of minutes where you feel everything — the brush of fabric, the shift of weight, the tiny creaks of the bed under him.
I couldn’t sleep.
Neither could he.
I could hear his breathing, shallow and uneven. The bed felt too big and too small all at once.
The shitty pillow wall between us was a joke now — some flimsy excuse to pretend there was still a line we hadn’t crossed.
Neither of us spoke for a long moment. The air was thick. Every shallow breath I took, I swore I could taste him on my tongue. The silence wasn’t peaceful. It was tense. Ticking. Waiting.
I couldn’t see him clearly in the dark, but I could feel him — every shift of weight on the mattress, every small movement that jolted straight through my body like static.
Finally, Seungmin’s voice broke the stillness — low, rough around the edges: “You keep fidgeting.”
I scoffed quietly, turning onto my side to face the vague outline of his body. “Maybe because I’m stuck sharing a bed with my worst enemy.”
“You flatter yourself,” he muttered, and even in the dark, I could imagine that insufferable smirk of his. “You’re the one who built a wall of pillows like I’m going to jump on you or something.”
He shifted closer, just enough that the mattress dipped between us, erasing another inch of space.
“Well, I've heard of your uncontrollable violent behavior, Kim Seungmin.” I lied, I heard nothing, but anything, now I might just witness it.
He laughed under his breath, sharp and derisive. “You're so full of yourself, it’s a miracle your head fits in this room.”
He didn’t say anything else immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch — heavy, charged — until I was practically vibrating from it.
Then, almost too casually: “Bet you think about it though.”
I blinked, my heart stuttering. “Think about what?” I asked, my voice coming out sharper than I meant.
“This,” he said simply. “Us. Fighting, fucking... whatever.”
I opened my mouth to snap back — some scathing insult on the tip of my tongue — but nothing came out.
Because the worst part? He wasn’t wrong.
The silence between us roared.
Seungmin shifted again, close enough now that the heat of his body seeped through the covers. “What’s the matter, princess?” he teased, voice dangerously low. “Cat got your tongue?”
I hated him. I hated how my skin burned under his words. I hated how badly I wanted to wipe that smug tone off his mouth — preferably with my own.
I swallowed thickly. “You’re delusional.” I said, but it lacked bite.
He laughed quietly, a deep, rumbling sound that curled low in my stomach. “Am I?” he challenged, voice pure sin.
Then, the tension snapped.
I pushed the stupid pillow barrier away with one aggressive swipe, grabbed a fistful of his face and yanked him toward me.
Our mouths crashed together like a fucking car wreck — brutal, messy, unstoppable. We kissed like we were trying to prove something. Or maybe like we were trying to forget something.
He groaned into the kiss, grabbing my waist like he’d been waiting for permission he was never going to ask for.
I gasped when he rolled over me, pinning me down into the mattress, his hips pressing between my thighs with a hunger that sent a shudder straight through me.
His mouth was everywhere — jaw, neck, collarbone — as if kissing me could somehow make up for all the weeks of tension we’d spent pretending we didn’t want this. His hands gripped my thighs, my waist, like he couldn’t decide where he needed me most.
His hips pressed down, slow and firm, and I felt the friction hit just right — enough to make me gasp into his mouth. He did it again. Purposefully this time. Pressing against me like he wanted me to feel just how hard he was. Like he needed me to know what I was doing to him.
Then he started grinding.
Desperately.
There was nothing careful about it. It was all friction and hunger, his sweatpants dragging against my panties, the pressure building every time our hips met. He was breathing heavily now, panting into my neck, his hands gripping my waist like he was trying to keep himself from losing it completely.
I arched against him instinctively, my hands sliding up his back, under his shirt, nails digging in just a little when our hips met again. The fabric between us was too much and not enough at the same time — the pressure maddening, delicious, torturous. Heat pooled low in my stomach, and I hated how easily he made me feel like I was unraveling — so I did what I always did when I felt too much.
I smirked. “Wow.” I whispered, my voice low and venomous as my lips brushed his ear. “I couldn’t imagine grinding was your way of begging.”
He groaned — like the sound had been ripped out of him — and ground harder, sharper, until I could feel all of him pressing against me.
Hard. So fucking hard.
And that’s when I laughed — breathless and wicked — dragging my nails down his back just enough to make him hiss. His breath was shaky against my collarbone, his lips dragging a trail of heat along my skin. He was already panting, his hips grinding into mine like he couldn’t stop himself, like he needed the friction just to stay sane. I felt him — hard, throbbing against my center — and it only made the smirk on my lips grow sharper.
“You’re really down bad, huh?” I murmured against his ear, dragging my nails slowly up his back. “You barely touched me and you're already losing it.”
He groaned, a sound that came from deep in his chest, and buried his face in the crook of my neck. “You’re not helping.” he muttered, grinding against me again, slower now, desperate.
“Then beg better.” I whispered, my voice deliberately calm, teasing. “Maybe I’ll take pity on you.”
He pulled back just far enough to look at me, eyes wild, jaw tight, completely wrecked.
“You think this is funny?” he asked, his voice a growl now. “You think I can fucking control myself when you're like this?”
“No.” I whispered, rolling my hips up slowly, deliberately. “That’s the fun part.”
Something snapped in him after that. He thrust against me again, this time rougher, more desperate, and I swallowed a moan as his mouth found mine once more. I felt him everywhere — in the way his body moved, in the way his hands clutched at me like I was something he couldn’t hold onto fast enough, in the way our hips met again and again, friction making it hard to think, hard to breathe, hard to do anything but feel.
My fingers slipped into his hair, yanking just enough to make him hiss, and I couldn’t help the smug little grin that curled at my lips. He pulled back just enough to look at me, flushed and breathless, pupils blown wide.
“You're dangerous.” he whispered, his voice low and reverent.
“You love it.” I shot back.
He crushed his mouth back onto mine, swallowing my gasp, and his hand slipped down between us to pull at my panties like he couldn’t stand one more second without being inside me. The kiss deepened, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, hands roaming recklessly.
Seungmin kissed like he fought — relentless, stubborn, like he had something to prove.
And fuck, I loved it.
His hands slid under my nightgown, fingertips dragging up my sides, rough and needy. I arched into him, desperate for more contact, for anything to ground me against the chaos exploding under my skin.
He pulled back just enough to mutter, breathless: “Still think I'm delusional?”
“Shut up.” I gasped, dragging him back down to me.
He grinned against my mouth — cocky, victorious — and then kissed me even harder.
“This is purely academic.” I said, smirking into the dark. “Data collection. Stress relief. Killing time.”
“What, like a science experiment?”
“Exactly.”
“Uh-hum, of course.” he agreed mock-seriously.
Clothes became obstacles. His hands found the hem of my slip, pushing it up, bunching the silky fabric at my waist.
He kissed down my neck, slower this time, like he was trying to savor every inch of skin. My shame was long gone, and so were the layers of sarcasm I wore like armor. His mouth trailed lower, over my chest, down my stomach — and when he reached the waistband of my panties, he paused. Looked up. Eyes dark. Lips swollen. Breath unsteady. Like he was about to kneel at an altar. And I was the altar.
“Don’t look at me like that.” I muttered, trying to hold onto some control.
“Like what?” he said, voice low, his fingers already sliding down my panties.
“Like I’m the answer to a question you didn’t know you were asking.”
He smirked — not his usual cocky kind, but softer, full of want.
He kissed down my stomach slowly, like he wanted to memorize every inch of skin. There was something almost reverent in the way he did it — not rushed, not greedy — just hungry, in a quiet, desperate kind of way.
When his fingers hooked under my panties and slid them down, he didn’t say a word. But his eyes — God, his eyes were wrecked. Like he’d been waiting for this since the day we met and couldn't believe it was finally happening.
I let my head fall back against the pillows, biting my lip, trying to stay composed. But the second I felt his breath on my inner thigh, I knew I was in trouble.
And then his mouth found me.
The first lick was slow. Soft. Testing.
He groaned like he was the one being touched, and the vibration made me shiver.
I grabbed a fistful of his hair on instinct, trying to ground myself. He didn’t stop.
His tongue moved in careful, messy circles, as if he was learning me — like every stroke was a question and every moan was an answer. He sucked gently, then harder, switching rhythms like he wanted to see what would make me break first.
I hated how good it felt. Hated how easy it was to melt under his mouth.
So I did the only thing I could do — I mocked him. “You’re really putting your whole heart into this, huh?” I breathed, voice shaky but laced with sarcasm.
He pulled back just enough to look up at me, lips already wet, face flushed. “I’ve been dreaming about this since the first time you yelled at me in chem lab.” he said, voice rough. “So yeah. I’m not fucking around.”
Then he went back in, hungrier than before. His hands slid under my thighs, pushing them further apart. He moaned into me like I was something he couldn’t get enough of — and maybe he couldn’t.
I gasped without thinking, barely able to form the words. He looked up at me with a crooked grin and shook his head before diving back in. And I couldn’t stop myself anymore. My hips rocked against his face. My hands tangled in his hair. My breath stuttered and caught.
My body arched. My breath stuttered. My control cracked. “Fuck—” I gasped, rolling my hips into his face. “You’re gonna make me—”
He sucked harder. His tongue flicked just right. And I did. I came with a whimper I tried to swallow, thighs trembling around his head.
Still, he didn’t move — didn’t stop — not until I was squirming away from the overstimulation,
‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
dragging him up by the hair and breathing like I’d run a marathon.
He looked wrecked. And so fucking proud of himself. “You should’ve insulted me earlier.” he whispered, kissing the inside of my knee. “I think I’m kinda into it.”
“Shut up.” I said, pulling him into a kiss.
I pulled him up by the hair, still panting, and crashed my mouth into his. Tasting myself on his lips only made it worse.
My hands roamed his bare back — warm, solid, lean muscles flexing under my touch — and I scratched lightly down his spine, earning a low, broken noise from deep in his throat.
He retaliated by sucking a bruise into the hollow of my throat, making me gasp and tangle my fingers in his hair, yanking just hard enough to hear him groan again.
Somehow, he managed to shove his sweatpants down just enough, the condom appearing – from God knows where – clumsily between kisses, torn open with shaky fingers. Even stoned on adrenaline and lust, we managed — barely.
When he finally slid inside me, it wasn’t gentle. It was desperate. Raw.
We both gasped — harsh, ragged — the sudden connection knocking the breath out of our lungs. Seungmin pressed his forehead to mine, breathing hard.
“Fuck.” he whispered. “You're gonna be the death of me.”
I laughed — sharp and breathless — grabbing his hips and rolling mine up to meet him, forcing a groan from his mouth.
He moved inside me — slow at first, testing, then harder, deeper, each thrust sending little shocks of pleasure ripping through me. I clutched at him, nails digging into his shoulders, my body meeting his rhythm without hesitation.
The world blurred around the edges — just his breath against my neck, the creak of the mattress, the wet, filthy sound of skin on skin.
The tension in my stomach coiled tighter with every rough drag of his hips, every filthy word he muttered against my skin when he thought I couldn’t hear.
“So fucking tight.”
“So good like this.”
“Mine tonight.”
I whimpered, burying my face against his shoulder, biting down just enough to make him hiss and drive into me harder. The buildup was brutal — slow and fast at the same time — until I was clinging to him, gasping his name like a curse.
He felt it too, I could tell — the way his thrusts became uneven, ragged, the way he cursed under his breath when my nails raked down his back.
I shoved him away, straddling him. “Lie down.” I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, letting my thighs press against his bare skin.
He looked wrecked — eyes glazed, mouth parted, like he couldn’t believe this was real. He obeyed instantly. Hair a mess, chest heaving, lips red. Completely at my mercy. He lifted his head, eyes wild, completely wrecked — pupils blown, lips parted. He looked at me like he didn’t know whether to kiss me or cry.
“Please.” he said, barely a breath. “I need you." He whimpered. “You're so fucking beautiful.” he whispered, almost like he hated himself for saying it. “Like a dream I shouldn’t be allowed to have.” His fingers brushing my hair.
The words made something flutter in my chest, but I ignored it. Instead, I pushed him down by the shoulders, forcing him to lie back on the mattress. He obeyed instantly.
“That's right, pretty boy.” I said, straddling his hips slowly, my fingers dragging over his chest.
His breath hitched at the praise.
I leaned down, lips brushing over his ear. — “You’re gonna keep your hands to yourself.” I said softly. “Just for a while. Got it?”
He nodded quickly. Too quickly. His restraint was paper thin.
I rolled my hips down against his again, this time without any barrier. His sweatpants were already low on his hips, and I could feel how badly he wanted it — the way his whole body arched up, chasing friction, chasing me.
“Fuck, Y/N…” he gasped, trying so hard not to move.
I shifted down slowly, kissing along his stomach, watching the muscles tense under my lips. When I reached the waistband of his boxers, I heard him whisper my name again — like a prayer. Desperate. Soft. Shaky.
But instead of going lower, I came back up, hovering over him again. His hands clenched at his sides. He was trembling. He looked like he was losing his mind.
And I loved it.
“You want me to fuck you?” I asked, voice still soft, like I was offering something sacred. He nodded again, eyes locked on mine. “No, Seungmin.” I said, smile sharp. “I want to hear it.”
He swallowed hard. “I want you.” he said. “Please. I want you so fucking bad.”
Only then did I slide down onto him — slow, torturously slow. We both gasped. His hands flew to my hips on instinct, gripping tight, but he didn’t move — like he remembered my words. His head fell back. A sound tore from his throat — low, desperate, guttural. — “Fucking hell…”
I started moving, hips rolling in deep, slow circles. He looked wrecked — eyes fluttering, head tilted back, mouth open.— “Shit.” he choked out. “You’re gonna kill me.”
I leaned down, brushing my lips over his. “You’re lucky I like you needy.”
He grabbed my wrist, eyes locking with mine again — glassy, overwhelmed. “You’re in fact a dream.” he whispered. “You’re a fucking dream, I don’t wanna wake up.”
He was completely under me — wide-eyed, overwhelmed, needy. I rode him slow and deep. He reached up, fingers trembling as they gripped my thighs. “Fuck… you’re unreal.”
I leaned forward, dragging my lips down his jaw. And I kept going. Until he couldn’t speak. Until he was all moans and gasps and praise whispered into my skin. Until the only thing either of us knew was this — us — messy, out of control, too much and never enough.
And this time, I didn’t tease. I kissed him — slow and deep — as I kept moving, feeling him tremble beneath me, completely undone
It hit me like a wave — hot, violent, overwhelming.
I came with a cry I couldn't bite back, my body clenching around him so hard it ripped a guttural moan from his mouth. A few more frantic, desperate grinds and he followed, coming with a rough, broken sound against my ear.
We collapsed together, sweaty, shaking, our bodies tangled messily in the sheets and in each other.
For a long moment, we just lay there — breathing hard, the air heavy with sex and everything we weren't saying.
He didn't move away.
Neither did I.
I woke up tangled in the sheets, the faint light from the window cutting through the darkness of the room.
The room was cold, but the heat of his body next to mine made it almost unbearable.
I shifted under the covers, blinking against the soft morning light bleeding through the curtains.
Seungmin was lying on his side, facing me. His hair a mess, his mouth slightly open, his arm carelessly thrown over the invisible line that we had so dramatically ignored the night before. He looked criminally good for someone who had completely ruined my ability to think straight.
For a second, I just stared at him. At the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. At the faint scratch marks I’d left on his skin.
It should’ve made me feel guilty.
It didn’t. It made my stomach flip in a way I refused to name.
I shifted under the covers, careful not to wake him. Not because I cared. Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the smugness that would explode across his stupidly handsome face when he realized he had officially broken my sanity.
But of course, the bed creaked, and his eyelids fluttered open. He blinked slowly at me, his mouth curling into a lazy, dangerous smirk. “Good morning, sunshine.”
I rolled my eyes hard enough to sprain something. “You drooled on my pillow.”
“You moaned on my neck.” He said it so casually I almost threw the remaining pillow at his face.
I rolled over with an exaggerated huff, pulling the blanket up to my neck.
The bed shifted a second later, and a raspy voice muttered: “You're staring. Creepy.”
I snorted without turning. “Dreaming. About how much I regret this.”
“Sure.” He stretched, the covers sliding lower on his body, revealing way too much bare skin for a casual glance.
I refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I tossed a pillow at his head.
It hit him square in the face. He grunted. “Assault. That's how you say good morning?”
“You should thank me. I could’ve done worse.”
He laughed, low and rough. God, that laugh should be illegal before 9 a.m.
“You already did worse last night.” he teased, flashing that stupid grin that made my chest tight for no good reason.
“Delusional much?” I snapped, pushing the blankets away and standing up, my satin slip sticking to my thighs.
His eyes dropped — quickly, involuntarily — and when he realized, he immediately smirked wider.
“If I'm delusional, at least it's a nice view.”
I threw another pillow at his face and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door harder than necessary.
Behind me, his laugh chased me like smoke under the door.
The last day of the conference loomed over me like a thundercloud. People buzzed around the lobby and corridors, all polished shoes and stiff blazers, pretending not to be nervous while clutching folders a little too tightly.
I sat at the back of the auditorium, my hands cold and clammy around my notes. My stomach twisted itself into knots. My brain, usually so quick and sharp, felt sluggish and heavy.
What if I mess up?
What if they laugh at me?
What if I open my mouth and nothing comes out?
A quiet nudge at my side snapped me out of my spiral. I turned sharply — already defensive — only to find Seungmin sliding into the seat next to mine, a crooked grin on his face. “You look like you're about to pass out” he said under his breath, eyes glinting with amusement.
I scowled. “Thanks for the support, Seungmin.”
He smirked, unbothered. His arm brushed mine as he leaned back casually, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, I was over here two seconds away from vomiting.
He studied my face for a moment, his smile fading slightly. “You’re gonna kill it.” he said, voice lower, more serious.
I blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. “Wow. High praise coming from my archnemesis.” I said, raising an eyebrow.
Seungmin snorted. “Don’t get used to it.” He tapped my folder with the back of his hand. “But seriously. You’re smarter than half the people in this room. Probably smarter than me, too. Not that I'd ever admit it out loud.”
My chest tightened strangely at that. I tried to cover it with sarcasm. “Aw, how cute. If I didn't know better, I'd think you actually cared.”
He rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Don't flatter yourself. I just don't want to be associated with someone who faints mid-presentation.”
I let out a shaky laugh despite myself, some of the weight on my chest easing. I glanced at him sideways, heart hammering for a different reason now. “You think I can really do it?” I asked, my voice smaller than I intended.
Seungmin’s gaze softened. He didn’t tease this time. He didn’t smirk.
He just nodded once, firm and certain. “I know you can.”
Something in me cracked a little at that. Before I could embarrass myself further by actually tearing up or something equally pathetic, the coordinator called my name.
I stood up too fast, my knees almost buckling. Seungmin reached out instinctively, grabbing my wrist lightly to steady me. His touch was brief, casual — but it set my skin on fire.
“Go show them why you scare the shit out of me.” he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.
I managed a breathless laugh, clutching my notes like a shield as I walked toward the stage.
His gaze followed me the whole way. I could feel it — hot and unwavering, like a tether pulling at me even across the room.
And somehow, because of him, my hands steadied. My voice, when I finally spoke, didn’t shake.
When I finished my presentation and stepped off the stage, heart still hammering, my eyes found his immediately.
Seungmin sat casually slouched in his seat, arms crossed, looking every bit the cocky bastard he always was. But when he caught my gaze, he gave me the smallest nod. Barely there. But it hit harder than a standing ovation.
I looked away quickly, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too wide. I shouldn’t have cared. But fuck — I did. More than I wanted to admit.
By the end of the last presentation, I was vibrating with tension from the happenings of today and yesterday. I couldn't help myself but let my eyes wander to him every second.
Then suddenly, Chan — the guy from the day before — found me again, appearing with a crooked smile and two cups of coffee. “We really survived it, huh?” he said, handing me a cup. "Yeah..." I took it automatically, forcing a smile.
But my eyes weren’t on him. They were locked across the crowd, watching Seungmin sling his backpack over one shoulder, heading toward the exit without even glancing back.
Something inside me twisted violently.
I barely heard Chan say something else. I just shoved the coffee back at him with a muttered excuse and slipped into the crowd, my body moving on instinct.
I followed Seungmin. Out of the conference center. Down the hall. Toward the elevators.
He didn’t turn when he heard my footsteps. He just stepped inside the elevator. Waited.
When I caught up, panting slightly, I saw the look in his eyes. Tense. Dark. Dangerous.
He hit the button for our floor, and the doors slid closed with a soft ding. The elevator was filled with nothing but heavy breathing and electricity.
Neither of us spoke. Neither of us had to. As soon as the room door closed, I acted on pure instinct. I shoved him. Hard.
Seungmin stumbled back against the wall, his eyes widening in shock — and something hotter — before narrowing with a slow, dangerous smile.
I didn't wait. I closed the distance, grabbed the front of his hoodie, and yanked him into a kiss.
This wasn’t soft. It was furious, messy, teeth and tongue clashing as I pressed him back harder against the wall, claiming him. He grabbed my hips, hauling me closer, but I was faster — shoving him backward until he hit the bed.
I pushed him down, climbing on top of him with a wicked grin.
He stared up at me, breathless, pupils blown wide.
“You like being bossed around, huh?” I teased, grinding down on him mercilessly.
“Only when it’s you.” he rasped, his hands gripping my thighs like he was seconds from losing it completely.
Fury and need and regret crashing together in a way that didn’t make sense but at the same time felt like the only thing that did.
Campus looked the same. Gray, busy, loud.
But everything felt different.
We didn’t talk about what happened. We didn’t even look at each other.
Pretend. Pretend. Pretend. Pretend we weren’t carrying around the memory of each other’s bodies burned into our skin
In class, he sat two rows behind me. I could feel his eyes burning holes into my back, searing a path down my spine. Every. Single. Second. By the end of the lecture, I was practically shaking with frustration.
I grabbed my notebook, marched out into the hallway — and waited.
When he passed, I grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the nearest empty classroom, slamming the door shut.
For a second, we just stood there, staring at each other, the tension so thick it felt like drowning.
“Problem, princess?” he asked, mock-innocent.
I shoved him lightly. “Yeah. You're breathing again. What the hell is your problem?” I hissed, arms crossed.
Seungmin leaned against the wall, lazy, unbothered, like this was amusing. “Problem? I don't have a problem.”
I stepped closer, glaring. “You stare at me like you want to burn me alive and then act like nothing happened.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I do want to burn you alive.”
I shoved him hard. He didn’t even flinch.
Just smiled — slow, infuriating — and let his eyes drag down to my mouth.
My chest heaved with fury. “Stop looking at me like that!” I snapped.
“Like what?” he said innocently, gaze dropping to my lips again.
I groaned and rolled my eyes before grabbing the front of his hoodie and kissed him.
Hard.
He responded immediately, hands sliding to my hips, slamming me back against the door.
The kiss was brutal, messy, full of months — maybe years — of frustration detonating all at once. Starved. Wild.
We stumbled back against the teacher’s desk, knocking over papers and god-knows-what, neither of us caring.
When we finally broke apart, panting, he whispered against my mouth: “You’re fucking annoying.”
“Takes one to know one.” I whispered back, yanking him down for another kiss.
And somehow...
It became a habit.
It wasn’t supposed to become a habit. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.
But suddenly, he was everywhere. In my bed. On his bed. In the backseat of his shitty old car, the windows fogged, the gearshift digging into my thigh as he moved inside me, rough and desperate. In the abandoned book storage, under a dusty skylight, where he bent me over an old desk and muffled my moans with his mouth. And now, in the farthest corner of the library.
He had me pinned against a bookshelf, one hand gripping my hip, the other tangled in my hair as he fucked me from behind. The worn wooden shelf rattled with every thrust, the sound obscene in the silent library.
My skirt was bunched up around my waist, panties forgotten somewhere on the floor. His jeans pooled around his ankles.
I couldn’t hold back a shaky moan when he lifted my leg higher, the new angle making me see stars.
His mouth was pressed to my shoulder, muffling his moans against my skin, teeth grazing whenever I clenched around him. He grabbed my wrist, guiding it to his mouth, biting the heel of my palm, making me gasp, as he fucked me harder.
Seungmin growled low in his throat, and I smirked wickedly, whispering breathless: “Can't handle it, can you, baby?”
He growled low in response, fucking into me harder, faster, more desperate, making it clear who was really in control.
And it wasn’t him.
The orgasm hit so fast it almost knocked the breath out of me, my forehead pressed against the dusty shelf to stay standing.
He followed a second later, groaning my name like a curse, collapsing against my back for a few shuddering breaths before pulling out, carefully, his hands trembling slightly as he tucked himself back into his jeans.
We straightened ourselves quickly — or as quickly as two wrecked, sweaty people could in the middle of a goddamn library.
He grabbed his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder like nothing had happened. I smoothed my skirt down, pretending my legs weren’t shaking.
As we walked out of the library, Seungmin shoved his hands into his pockets and said, almost casually: “I... bought that soju you said you liked once.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Was thinking... maybe you could come over. Study. Drink a little. Then…” He shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “You know.”
I blinked at him, caught off-guard.
“Wait. That soju? How the hell did you even find it?”
He scowled, defensive. “I just found it, alright?” he muttered, like he hadn’t spent two hours scouring online stores for it.
I raised an eyebrow. “You scoured the internet for it, didn’t you?”
He rolled his eyes, ears pink. “Whatever. Just... if you want to come over later. Study. Drink. Maybe…” He shrugged.
I grinned wickedly. “I'd love to drink myself into a coma with you.”
He grumbled something under his breath but didn’t hide the way the corner of his mouth tilted up.
And maybe...
Maybe I was already too far gone to care
When I stepped into Seungmin’s apartment, a gust of cold air followed me inside, swirling around my ankles and raising goosebumps along my arms. The windows rattled faintly, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear the low rumble of thunder, soft but persistent, like a warning. The faint smell of clean laundry and takeout lingering in the air.
It was neat, tidy — almost aggressively so, like he had scrubbed it just to have something to do with his hands.
Seungmin closed the door behind me a little too quickly, shutting out the cold — but not the tension that immediately filled the room.
He didn’t even bother with his usual sarcasm. He just moved toward the kitchen, hands stuffed in his pockets, shoulders stiff. In that brief moment, I could tell something was off.
I kicked off my shoes and shook the chill off my skin, frowning slightly as I watched him.
Something was wrong. Something more than the storm brewing outside.
“Hey.” I said, having him help me take off my coat and eyeing him suspiciously.
He gave a grunt of acknowledgment and motioned toward the living room, where the bottle of soju sat already open on the coffee table.
We moved to the couch, cracking open our notebooks, pretending we were actually there to study. At first, we did — sort of.
I read over a few pages. He pretended to make notes. We sipped soju in between, the alcohol smoothing the edges of the tension, but not erasing it.
It only grew heavier, thicker. He barely looked at me. His jaw clenched every time I shifted closer.
After nearly half an hour of fake studying and awkward silences, I slammed my pen down dramatically.
“Okay.” I said, turning fully to face him. “Spill it. What the hell is going on with you?”
He didn't answer immediately. Just scribbled something meaningless in his notebook, avoiding my eyes like they were lethal weapons.
“Nothing” he muttered.
I snorted. “Bullshit. Come on, Min. You’re a lot of things, but a good liar isn’t one of them.”
I reached across, closed his notebook slowly, deliberately, and stared him down.
“You’re acting like someone kicked your puppy. You’re moody. You’re stiff. And not even in the good way.”
His lips twitched slightly at that, but he still didn’t meet my gaze. “I said it's nothing.” he repeated stubbornly, but his tone cracked halfway through.
It was almost adorable.
Almost.
I leaned in closer, so close that our knees bumped. “You’re not getting away with it.” I said in a mock-sweet voice. “Not tonight.”
I let my hand trail up his thigh slowly, watching the way his breath hitched. He didn’t stop me. Didn’t move.
“If you're not going to talk…” I murmured, holding his gaze, sliding off the couch and kneeling between his legs, “then I'll just have to loosen you up another way.”
His eyes widened slightly, but he still didn’t say a word — stubborn even now.
I tugged the drawstring of his sweatpants loose, my fingers moving with slow, calculated intent. He was already half-hard — a clear sign that no matter how much he was pretending to be unaffected, his body wasn’t lying.
I freed him with a slow, deliberate motion, my hand wrapping around him. He groaned, low and desperate, his head falling back against the couch.
I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the sensitive tip, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin. He shuddered, his hand immediately sliding into my hair, not pushing, just... anchoring.
When I took him into my mouth, slow and deep, his head fell back against the couch with a broken groan.
“Fuck, Y/N…” he gasped, voice already wrecked.
I set a slow, torturous rhythm, hollowing my cheeks, dragging my tongue along every inch of him, savoring every helpless sound he made. His thighs trembled under my palms, and the way his hand tightened in my hair made me smirk against his skin.
His free hand came up, brushing the hair gently away from my face so he could see me — see everything. And then, in the middle of a particularly deep stroke, he whispered it — raw, desperate.
“I saw you…” he rasped, pushing the hair gently away from my face, his thumb brushing my temple tenderly. “At the library... talking with that asshole… laughing… looking so fucking pretty”
I hummed around him, and he let out a strangled sound, his hips bucking slightly.
“Fuck, Y/N... I hated it, it made me crazy.” he admitted, his voice cracking as he stroked my cheek. “Wanted to punch him.” he gasped. “Wanted to drag you away... claim you…”
The words sent a sharp pulse of heat through me. I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my hand stroking him lazily. My heart pounded at his raw honesty, but I didn’t let up. If anything, I doubled down — moving faster, stroking the base with one hand while my mouth worked him expertly.
He was unraveling. Completely. And he didn't even try to hide it anymore.
“Fucking jealous.” he muttered, his head tipping back, exposing the long line of his throat.
I felt him tense, his thighs trembling slightly. Before he could lose it completely, he tugged me up by the shoulders, pulling me into his lap with a growl.
“Get up here” he ordered, voice rough, desperate.
Without another word, he pulled me up by the arms, yanking me onto his lap. I straddled him, sliding my body against his, feeling the heat of his skin under my fingers. Our faces inches apart, both breathing hard.
The soju had given him a slight flush — his cheeks pink, his chest heaving — and it made him look almost innocent. Almost. He wasn't.
I could feel his eyes on me, his gaze dark and filled with something I wasn’t sure I was ready to acknowledge. His hands were on my hips, gripping me so tightly it almost hurt, and for a moment, I let myself savor that — the way he was barely holding on, like if he let go, I might slip away from him.
I pulled my sweater off slowly, teasing him with every inch of skin that was exposed, the fabric sliding over my shoulders and down my arms, before I tossed it carelessly aside. His breath caught when my bra followed, and I couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes devoured me, like he was trying to memorize it, the hunger in them making my pulse race.
I stood up, feeling his gaze track every movement as I slowly unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my lace panties. Seungmin was breathless now, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths as he reached out to touch me, his fingers brushing against my bare thighs, reverent, sending a wave of shivers through me.
“Fuck, you're killing me…” he whispered, voice hoarse.
I leaned in, kissing him slow and deep, feeling the desperation vibrating through him. Without breaking the kiss I slid my hand between us, guiding him to my entrance, and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, I sank down onto him.
The feeling of him inside me was overwhelming — I could feel every inch of him, stretching me, filling me completely. Both of us gasped at the same time, my body shaking slightly from the intensity of it.
I stayed still for a moment, letting the sensation settle, trying to focus on the way his hands gripped my waist, his fingers digging into my skin as if he was trying to keep me grounded.
“You feel so fucking good.” he groaned, his voice low and strained. “I can’t even…”
His hands moved from my waist to my hips, his thumbs pressing against the sides of my ribs, and then he helped me move, his body matching the rhythm I set. I leaned back slightly, letting him fill me deeper with every movement, my hands resting on his chest for balance as I rocked against him. He reached up, running his hands over my waist, my stomach, my breasts, like he couldn't get enough.
His eyes never left me, watching the way my body moved over his, the way I controlled the pace, the way I made him feel like he was losing his mind. I leaned down, kissing him hard, desperate, letting him taste the hunger that had been building between us.
His hands slid up my back, pushing my hair away from my neck, and he kissed me there — soft at first, then with more urgency. The contrast between his gentleness and the rawness of our bodies crashing together made my breath catch.
“You’re fucking perfect.” he muttered, his lips against my skin. “God, you feel so perfect.”
I increased the pace, rolling my hips faster, harder, the friction between us driving both of us to the edge. He was moaning now, his hands moving to my breasts, squeezing and massaging them as I continued to ride him.
I could feel him getting closer — his movements more frantic, more desperate — and I loved the way he was losing himself in me.
“Y/N... Fuck, you’re incredible…” he groaned, his hands slid under my ass, guiding me, helping me move faster, deeper.
I felt my own orgasm building — the pressure, the heat, the way our bodies were in perfect sync, like we were both caught in the same storm.
I leaned down, kissing him again, this time slower, more tender, as I continued to move on top of him. He pulled me closer, his hands sliding up my back, pulling me into him as if he couldn’t get close enough.
“God, you’re beautiful.” he praised me again, his voice cracking. “You're a fucking dream, Y/N.”
That broke me. The words, the way he said them with such vulnerability, the way he couldn’t hide how much he cared — it was too much.
I came first, my body shaking as the pleasure coursed through me, and Seungmin followed right after, his whole body tensing beneath me as he groaned my name.
We collapsed together, both of us gasping for air, trembling from the intensity of it all.
Seungmin’s hand found my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek as he pulled me into a slow kiss, still out of breath but somehow still wanting more. He pulled back after a moment, his forehead resting against mine as we both tried to catch our breath.
I smiled, my fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as I looked down at him.
The slow kiss between us deepened, his forehead pressed against mine, so close I could feel the soft flutter of his eyelashes against my skin, his arms still cradling my waist, his body still warm and heavy inside me. Seungmin's hand traced slow, lazy circles along my spine, as if he had no intention of letting me go.
As if I belonged there.
With him.
The world outside blurred into nothing — just the soft rumble of thunder far away and the faint tremble of Seungmin's breath against my lips.
And somewhere, in the middle of all that… my heart stuttered violently. But it wasn’t like before — not the rush of lust, not the usual reckless thrill.
It hurt.
A sharp, aching kind of pain that made my chest tighten and my lungs forget how to breathe.
And that was when it hit me.
I loved him.
The realization knocked the air out of me, heavier than the storm clouds gathering outside the window. Panic flared instantly in my chest, hotter than anything I had felt that night. The thought sliced through me with terrifying clarity.
I tried to breathe, tried to ground myself, but my mind betrayed me — flooding with every moment, every memory that led me here.
The way he encouraged me before the presentation and said — in the most nonchalant way possible — “You’re gonna kill it.” and “You’re smarter than half the people in this room.” Like it was the most normal thing to say to the girl you're supposed to hate.
The way he used to sit across from me in the library for hours, flicking tiny crumpled paper balls at my forehead every time I started to lose focus, pretending it was just to annoy me — but never leaving until I finished every last page.
The way, after the first time at his house we crossed the line, he wordlessly pulled me up from the messy bed, his arms steady and sure, carrying me straight to the bathroom. No teasing, no smirking — just warm hands steadying me under the shower spray, his fingers gently untangling my hair like I was something precious.
The way he disappeared into the kitchen afterward, reappearing fifteen minutes later with a grilled cheese — tragically burnt, awful grilled cheese — because he thought I might be hungry.
The way he always had some sarcastic comment ready to throw at me — just to see me roll my eyes and smile.
The way that when we were alone his fingers always found my wrist, my waist, the small of my back — little touches so casual they could have been accidental, but they never were. Like he needed the reassurance that I was real and still there.
The way he never once made me feel like I owed him anything in return.
The way he just... stayed.
All of it crashed into me at once, a kaleidoscope of moments that I hadn't realized mattered so much until now.
I opened my eyes, searching his face. He looked so peaceful. So real. His hair messy from my fingers, lips swollen from my kisses, a faint pinkness staining his cheeks from the soju we’d shared earlier. He looked like something I could never deserve but stupidly still wanted. No — needed.
The love sat heavy in my chest, raw and suffocating.
I love him.
I loved his stupid sarcasm. I loved his soft touches hidden behind gruff words. I loved his messy hair, his crooked smile, his smartass mouth. I love his little mole on the bridge of his nose. I loved the way he fought me, pushed me, infuriated me — and still made me feel seen in ways no one else ever had.
Panic clawed at my throat. This wasn’t part of the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
No.
No, no, no.
I wasn’t supposed to feel this. I wasn’t supposed to love Seungmin.
Reality slammed back into me.
I shifted slightly, pulling away just enough for the space between us to feel vast again. Seungmin's brows furrowed, his hand tightening instinctively on my waist.
Leaning away from him, my body trembling as I scrambled off his lap. I could feel the sudden chill on my bare skin as I grabbed my discarded clothes, pulling my sweater over my head with frantic, clumsy hands, avoiding his confused, sleepy gaze.
“Y/N?” he called softly, his voice was thick, confused, still hoarse from our kisses. “Where are you–”
I didn't answer. I grabbed my skirt, slipping it back on quickly, reaching for my bag like the room was on fire.
“Where are you going?” he asked, standing up, his brows furrowing.
I didn’t even look at him. I needed to get out. Out of that room, out of the weight pressing down on my chest. I needed to breathe.
Before I did something irreversible. Before I begged him to love me back.
He moved toward the window and then froze. Outside, it had started to pour — sheets of rain hammering against the glass, the sky flashing briefly with distant lightning.
“It’s's raining.” he said, voice cautious. “Why don't you just... stay tonight?”
I shook my head frantically, shoving my feet into my shoes, my fingers trembling. “I can't.” I choked out, barely able to breathe, my throat closing.
He reached for me but I bolted, slamming the door behind me, running down the hallway, the sound of my footsteps echoing against the walls, my heart breaking with every step.
I ran down the stairwell, skipping steps as I sprinted downward, my heart racing, my vision blurring. The sound of rain getting louder, closer, until I burst through the front doors into the storm.
The moment I pushed the exit door open, the cold rain hit me like a wall, instantly soaking me to the bone — I had forgotten my coat —. I stumbled forward blindly, tears and raindrops blurring together on my face.
I barely made it a few steps before I heard him.
“Y/N!”
His voice, sharp, desperate, cutting through the downpour.
I ignored it. Kept walking. And then suddenly —A hand grabbed my arm and yanked me back, spinning me around.
Seungmin stood there, drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, chest heaving like he had just run a marathon, anger and hurt twisting his face into something almost unrecognizable.
His other hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back slightly so I had to look at him. We were soaked, trembling, our breaths steaming in the cold night air.
His face was wild with frustration, with something deeper, something raw and terrified. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he shouted, his voice cracking with anger and something else — fear.
I shoved him. Hard.
My hands slamming against his chest, tears spilling from my eyes. “This is your fault!” I screamed, my voice raw, breaking. “Your stupid hair– your fucking smile– your goddamn eyes–”
I shoved him again, sobbing now, my fists hitting his chest uselessly. “I wasn't supposed to feel this! I wasn’t supposed to love you!”
Seungmin grabbed my wrists, holding them tightly, forcing me to stop hitting him. His hands were rough but not cruel — desperate. “You think this was easy for me?!” he shouted back, his voice cracking. “You think it didn’t fucking kill me to see you every day and pretend you weren't everything I wanted?!”
I struggled against him, tears streaming down my face, mixing with the rain.
“You think I didn’t want to scream every time someone else looked at you like you weren't mine?!” he gasped, voice hoarse with the weight of everything he had been holding back. “I wanted to tell everyone. I wanted to grab you and say— she’s fucking mine.”
The rain pounded harder, soaking through our clothes, making our bodies slick against each other.
I tried to pull away again, but he gripped my shoulders tighter, pulling me closer, locking his burning eyes to mine. “You felt it too.” he whispered fiercely. “Tell me you felt it too, Y/N.”
I shook my head weakly, trying to pull away from him, the rain blinding me, my heart pounding so loud I couldn’t think. “I can't–” I gasped, my voice barely audible.
But he didn’t let me go. He stepped closer, almost shaking with the effort of keeping himself together. “Look at me.” he demanded. “Look me in the fucking eyes and tell me it wasn’t real. Tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t love me.”
I opened my mouth. Tried to speak. Tried to lie.
Nothing came out, not a single curse or remark. Nothing except a broken sob.
“Tell me you don't feel it, Y/N.”he shouted. “Tell me you don't love me.” His voice broke on the last word, and for a second, the world around us went silent except for the rain pounding against the pavement.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My throat closed up, the words stuck somewhere between terror and heartbreak. “I don't– I–” I tried, but I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t lie.
The pain on his face when I faltered nearly broke me in half. He saw the truth in my eyes before I could even say it.
We crashed into each other. The kiss was brutal, angry, full of tears and frustration and all the love we were too scared to admit. Full of every unspoken word, every feeling we were too terrified to say out loud.
His hands tangled in my hair, yanking me closer, desperate, like he needed me to breathe. My fists clutched his soaked shirt, pulling him down to me as if I could tear him apart and rebuild him at the same time.
Tears mixed with the rain on both of our faces, the salty taste of heartbreak on our lips as we clung to each other in the storm, drowning in everything we had tried so hard to deny.
We kissed like we were drowning. Because maybe we were.
We were soaked. We were shaking. We were real. And for the first time, we weren't hiding anymore.
He pressed his forehead against mine, rain soaking us, his hand trembling on my waist, his breath was shaky against my lips.
“You're messy, infuriating, impossible — no one never would wreck me the way you do. But I'd let you, a thousand times over, cause that's the way i love you.
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