Nasty Roomate Yandere Mingi Who Just Finds Your Panties And Cant Help But Steal Them

nasty roomate yandere mingi who just finds your panties and cant help but steal them

i- i- i can't

warnings: nsfw under the cut, pervert!mingi, yandere!mingi, non-con, no actual sex, masturbation (mingi), panty sniffing, panty stealing, mingi is sooo weird but he's sooo pretty so it's okay, 0.9k wrds author's notes: ANONIE YOUR MINDDDDDDDD masterlist

in the cozy apartment you share, mingi, your exceptionally sweet roommate, is an absolute dream come true. he takes care of everything with such thoughtfulness and consideration, constantly tidying up after himself. not only that, he insists on handling the dishes, making sure you have all the hot water for your showers, and even goes above and beyond in countless other ways. and, oh, how cute he is! with his naturally pillowy lips, a tiny, hidden mole beneath his black glasses, and that endearing front tooth, just a bit longer than the rest, peeking through whenever he chuckles at your less-than-hilarious jokes.

yeah, mingi is the sweetest roommate you could ever have. however, there's a peculiar twist to his behavior. once you granted him access to your private instagram account, he swiftly excused himself from any ongoing activities and retreated to his room. there, he fumbled with the zipper of his jeans, only to jerk off at your pictures for minutes on end. soft whimpers escaped his lips as he envisioned the many lewd expressions you might have while sharing his bed. you look so pretty he can only imagine how ethereal you'd look with your eyes shut in pleasure, drool escaping your mouth. whenever he came, he'd disgustingly let the white spurts of cum from his cock splash onto his phone screen. in an instant, his jaw would go slack in need, his pupils dilating at the sight of your face adorned with his seed's droplets. his lust would fuel his next actions, causing him to push his hardening cock into his fist with even greater intensity. his length effortlessly sliding within his tight grip, aided by the slick accumulated from being repeatedly covered in cum during his many orgasms.

anyway mingi is still the sweetest roommate… apart from the elevator incident, where you both had to climb many flights of stairs due to its breakdown, he displayed a cute gesture, kindly insisting that you should go first, talking about how girls should go first. you playfully smiled at him, even teasingly pinching his cheek, praising him and mentioning how his mom had raised him right. however, it seems you were mistaken about him being brought up in such a way, because the moment you turn, his hand is already taking out his phone, opening the camera app. mingi cleverly maneuvers his phone under the shelter of your tiny skirt, discreetly capturing pictures, all the while glancing anxiously at the back of the your head, hoping you won't notice him in the act. upon reaching your apartment, you notice that mingi's breathing matches the intensity of your own, but unbeknownst to you, the exercise is not the reason for his sharp inhales of air. it's the mere idea of your pretty cunt, molded by the sweat-soaked panties, now readily available on his phone at any time, that makes him breath catch in his throat.

mingi.. the sweetest roommate ever? if we set aside the puzzling disappearance of your panties, which you attribute to your absent-mindedness, much like how you often misplace your socks and keys, you don't even entertain the thought that mingi could be involved in this situation. as you search for them in the laundry basket, thoughtfully placed in a corner of the kitchen, mingi remains in his room, with your panties pressed against his face, and another pair on his dick. his fist clench the material, as he keeps trusting in it, his bottom leaving his mattress at each assault. his eyes roll over as he opens his mouth, savoring the taste of your essence as his saliva soaks the red material. the intensity of the pleasure he feels just by tasting you is so high, tears of pure delight roll down his face while he fists the material, muffling his whines with the clothing, pushing it deeper in his mouth. the sensation of your other panties against his sensitive tip brings him to the edge. he finally cums on the tiny lacy pair and he uses it to clean himself up. after tidying himself up, he tiredly settles onto his bed, cradling another pair close to his nose as he lets sleep take over him.

mingi your sweet roommate, who grows more at ease in your company, a warm and endearing familiarity starts to bloom. he becomes so comfortable that he can't help but let his affectionate nature shine through, unable to keep his hands to himself. in the mornings, as he wakes up, he greets you with small, tender pats on your head, too preoccupied with his own sleepy yawns to articulate a proper "good morning." when you're preparing breakfast for the both of you, two cereal bowls in front of you as you look for spoons, he shows his gratitude with gentle kisses on your bare shoulders. as he passes by you, there are fleeting touches on your waist, which catch you by surprise and make you momentarily fumble against your glass of apple juice. your face flushes with warmth at these sweet gestures you don't expect from mingi, him usually burying himself in his room. the subtle pinches to your butt catch you off guard, causing you to stutter and swiftly turn your head towards mingi, eyes widening in surprise. the shock is evident on your face, but he seems puzzled and unaware of what you're reacting to, leaving you to wonder if you had imagined those touches altogether. it only takes him two more months to finally have you crying on his dick, just like he had imagined all these times. nah his rizz level is crazy.

Do Kyungsoo doing the heart cheek pose o(╥﹏╥)o

what's my name

❥pov: song mingi x black! fem reader

❥cw: cussing, porn w/ a lil bit of plot, public sex, cunnilingus, mingi has a daddy kink bc duh, smut, unprotected sex, handjob, lots of praising bc ya! you look good! mingi's in love wit you, missionary, srry if i missed anything!

❥wc: 2.8k (one of my longer ones, oops hehe)

❥an: if you've ever been to a concert, you might know mingi says "whats my name" so that's my inspo lol

Sitting on the bed, you slip your feet into the pink heels. You apply the finishing touches to your outfit, grabbing your purse and lipgloss. You leave the room and walk down the hall, ensuring everything is turned off. Hearing the clacking of your heels in the living room, Mingi looks up at you from his phone. 

“’m sorry I took so long, baby,” you mumble, pushing your body wave curl over your shoulder. You take in Mingi's appearance as he’d finished getting ready while you were in the shower. He wore a white button-down under a black vest, black slacks, and a silver watch. His bright pink hair a sexy mess. Mingi’s eyes size you up as he takes in your dress and heels.

“All good, ma. Damnn girl, you look stunning,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist, twirling your hair in his finger. 

“I don't want other people seeing you look this good, ma. You know I don't like to share,” he grumbles, his hand sliding down your exposed back to your barely covered ass as he kisses your lips. You return his kiss, your hand on his chest.

“I'm sorry, baby, but I’m not changing,” you say, winking at him. “Plus, we’re already late, and I’m hungry,” you whine. 

“Fine, but you gotta wear my jacket,” he complains, knowing you weren’t gonna wear it. 

The both of you exit the apartment, Mingi closely behind you, his hand glued to your ass. Arriving at the restaurant, Mingi pulls the door to the Benz, allowing you to get out. The both of you walk toward the door and enter the restaurant. 

The party was held in the middle of the restaurant, with a long table for all the guests. You walk to the end of the table and embrace Yeosang, the birthday boy, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Mingi places the gift the both of you bought for him on the table and wishes Yeosang a happy birthday. The party was already in full swing, and everyone was already drunk. You and Mingi find a seat and call for the waiter.

“I'm sorry, can you repeat the order? It’s really hard to hear,” the waitress asks, leaning over Mingi, her breasts spilling out of her barely buttoned top. You give her a noticeable side-eye as Mingi speaks his order slightly louder, but not by much. You turn to the waitress, reading his order for him, “He said he’ll have…” but you stop as you see the look she gives you, her face turning up in disgust.

You continue saying his order ending it with, “and I dare you to try some shit, love. You really don't want it.” 

Mingi slides his hand over your thigh, squeezing it to calm you. The girl rolls her eyes as she takes your menus and walks away. When your food arrives, you see Mingi look at his meal and frown. 

“What is it, baby?” you ask. 

“They messed it up,” he mumbles.

“What the fuck?” you say, reaching to grab his plate, noticing immediately what's wrong with it.

“Excuse me,” you say, gesturing to the waitress. “He asked for chicken, rice, and no tomatoes.”

“It’s okay ma, don't worry, I’ll still eat it.” Mingi says to you, his hand returning to your thigh. But you’re not really hearing any of it, already pissed off by the dumbass and her noticeable flirting with Mingi all evening. 

The waitress glares at you, “The chicken is cooked in the vegetables.”

“He asked for no tomatoes, so I would appreciate it if the fucking meal was cooked that way,” you snap, sarcasm dripping in your voice. At this point, everyone at the table was looking at you. 

Mingi goes quiet as the meal is taken from him.

“I’m sorry sir, we'll get it rectified quickly,” the waitress quips, walking away with the dish. 

You turn to Mingi, and his eyes are slit as he looks back at you. 

“You said-”

“Go to the bathroom,” he cuts you off, his voice stern. 

You sigh and put the napkin down, grabbing your purse as you walk to the bathroom. Yes, you knew you had an attitude problem plus a mouth with no filter, but Mingi knows this. So can he really blame you for getting upset when they fucked up his order? You push open the door to the private bathroom and let it close behind you. Moments later, Mingi comes in, locking the door behind him. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his body is stiff as he approaches you. 

“Mingi, I-,” you start to say. 

“You must love all the attention,” he snaps, thumbing the fabric of your dress. “I’m worried about having to share you when I really need to be worried about you being a jealous little thing, hm.” His breath fans your neck as he speaks into your collarbone, inhaling your intoxicating scent. 

“But Mingi,” you whine. “You saw her! The stupid bitch couldn't even get your order right. On top of that, acting like I barely existed. Of course I was hot. I don't like sharing either. You’re mine,” you pout. 

“Always, ma,” he says. “And I know you wanna take care of me but don’t use it as an excuse to get mad okay?” he tells you, his warm lips sliding over yours. 

“Mmhm,” you hum as you wrap your arms around your man’s neck, kissing him. Even though the two of you were so different, Mingi knew you like the back of his hand, and you, him. 

Mingi had been trying to keep his hands off you all night, but couldn't control it anymore as you embraced him, your little stint at the table undoubtedly turning him on. He kisses into your mouth, your tongues sliding against each other in perfect harmony. Mingi slips his hand under your thigh and lifts it as he slides to his knees in front of you. You lean against the counter, bracing yourself on the ledge as your hooded eyes watch Mingi lift your dress, brushing his nose against your clothed core. 

“I swear, you looked a hundred times finer cussing at her.” His praises fill your ears and you moan as you slip your hands into Mingi’s hair, pushing his face toward your cunt.

“Only for you,” you gasp when he licks a stripe on your soaked underwear. 

“I should express my thanks, huh, ma?” he asks, his breath hot on your aching pussy. 

“Mhm,” you moan as he slides your panties off your legs, hooking your thick thigh over his shoulder. He licks another stripe up your core, spreading your slick over your clit. Mingi pulls it into his mouth, sucking the sensitive bud as you roll your hips on his face, “yess Mingi, just like that.” 

As if you were the only two people in the world and not in a public bathroom, Mingi slowly eats your pussy out, sliding his skilled tongue in and out of your hole, lapping the juice with each thrust. You feel your orgasm slowly build as Mingi applies just the right amount of pressure to your cunt, his sweet tongue fucking you senseless. 

“I'mma always take care of you, daddy,” you moan. Your head tilted, biting your lip as you watch Mingi lovingly eat your cunt, the filthy sounds gratifying. 

Mingi stops tonguing you out as he looks up at you, his eyes dark. He pulls off you, breathing hard, your pussy fluttering as the air makes contact. 

“What did you just say, ma,” he pants, his hands digging into the fat of your thigh.

“I said imma always take care of you. Why did you stop?” You whine, your hand itching to rub your throbbing clit. 

“What did you just call me, y/n,” Mingi looks up at you, his eyes hard and his mouth covered in your slick. 

He pushes two fingers into your leaking hole, the stretch of his long fingers causing you to groan. “I-i called you daddy,” you choke, his thrust slow and deep. 

“Fuck ma, what am I gonna do with you, ” Mingi grunts. He kisses up your legs as his fingers curl against the puffy skin inside you, lighting your nerve endings on fire. He brings his mouth to your soft clit, consuming you. 

“Shiiit Mingi, yesss,” your back arches off the counter as Mingi satiates your needy cunt, the combination of his fingers and tongue sending your senses into overdrive. 

“‘m cumming,” you groan as the waves of your orgasm wash over you, trapping Mingi between your legs. The sounds of him slurping you up resonate through the air as his tongue laps up the essence that drips from you. When your orgasm dies down, you release Mingi, and he stands, licking his swollen pink lips. His body towers over yours as he looks down at you, his pants tight against his thighs. He brings his head down to kiss you, swirling the remnants of your juices in your mouth. 

“You got me going crazy, ma. Wait ‘til we get home,” he breathes against your lips. 

He helps you clean yourself back up, waiting for you to reapply your lip gloss and fix your hair. By the time you're ready to go, you realize you don't have your panties on, your eyes following the fabric sticking out of Mingi’s pocket as he walks out the door. 

Dinner resumed in an air of palpable sexual tension, the waitress long forgotten. You and Mingi could not leave any quicker the moment it ended.  

You barely kept up with Mingi as he pulled you toward your apartment. Mingi’s mouth on your neck, hands roaming your body, pleasuring you as you open the door. The ache in his pants never left since the moment you called him that word, and it was all he could think about. 

You run into your bathroom to at least get out of your dress, but Mingi’s impatience only allows you to put your hair up as he slides his hands over the front of your body, unbuckling his pants as he pins you against the counter of the bathroom. 

“Should finish what we started, shouldn’t we, mamas,” Mingi grunts, pulling the strap of your dress down, freeing your titties. He pulls the bottom of the dress up over your ass, lining his aching cock to your heat. He wraps his arms around your waist and throat, watching your body react to his touches in the mirror as he slides into you. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes roll into the back of your head, your body savoring the feeling of him stretching you inch by inch. “Soo big,” you moan, unable to keep yourself quiet.

When you feel Mingi’s hips against the plush of your ass, he stills, allowing you to adjust. Nuzzling his nose into your neck, Mingi hugs your body as he pulls his hips back, snapping into you, your ass rippling from the force. Your hand clutches his arm as he drills into you, thankful that he’s holding you up because you feel weak in all your limbs. 

“So fucking pretty. Look at how pretty you are, ma,” he moans, encouraging you to look in the mirror. Your boobs bounce through his arms, the sounds of your ass clapping visible as you see it spread along his hips. Your mouth an “o” as the pretty moans fall from your lips. 

“Fucking me so good,” you choke, his cock taking all the air out of you. Your cunt responds to the connection, tightening the grip around Mingi as he hits you in all the right places. 

You don’t know what had gotten into Mingi and why he couldn't even wait until yall at least got to the bed, but you soon figured it out when your eyes meet each other and he tightens his hold on your throat, grunting, “What’s my name.” 

Mingi doesn't slow his rhythm, pounding into your aching cunt, your mind losing all focus.

 “M-m-mingi,” you moan, your hand on the counter helping you fuck yourself back on Mingi, the other gripping his arm around your neck. 

He grunts and claps your ass, his tip bruising your cervix with every thrust. “What’s. My. Name.” He growls. You can’t take the force of his pounding anymore, reaching your arm back to push against his waist. Mingi doesn’t even regard your whines, grabbing your hand and pinning it behind your back. 

“Nah, don’t try to push me off now, ma. What’s my name.” he grunts, feeling you clench around his dick. Your eyes lock with Mingi’s, tears prickling your eyes as you moan, “mmm- daddyyy.” Mingi smirks and pushes into you deeper, “again.”  

“Dadddyy, pleasee, it’s too much,” you choke out as Mingi strokes you deliciously, your pussy going against your words to pull him in. 

“But you're sucking me in, so which is it, ma?” he laughs into your ear. You just moan in response as he fucks your pulsing heat. 

“You want daddy to take care of you?” he asks.

“Yesss, daddy, please,” you groan. Mingi can't take his eyes off you. Your eyebrows furrow as you whine, calling him daddy. It's music to his ears, and he doesn't even realize you’re coming until he feels you tightening around him. Your orgasm crashes over you, your eyes going white as you cum, your release dripping down your thighs.

Your chest heaves as you come down from your high, Mingi kissing your shoulder as he strokes you through it. 

Looking at him through the glass, you can see that Mingi’s cock is still hard as he pulls out, his face sweating. 

You pull the dress off your head and turn to him, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. Your hand falls to his thick shaft, stroking him. 

You watch Mingi’s face morph into pure bliss, seconds away from nutting all over your hand. You lean to his ear and whisper, “you not done fucking me right, daddy?” Taunting him, knowing what you do to him. Mingi grunts, blood rushing back to his cock as he slides his big hands under your ass, spreading your cheeks as he picks you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, his veiny dick rubbing against your sensitive skin as he walks and gently lays you on the bed. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you real good, baby. So just stay there looking pretty and scream my name.” Mingi hovers over you, holding your knees open as he spreads your legs, sliding his dick through your folds. 

“Mmhm, daddy,” you moan, your hands reaching up to grab his face, pulling him into a passionate kiss. You feel Mingi tuck his legs under yours and press into you, his lips never leaving yours. You moan into his mouth, the stretch coursing through your body. 

This time his strokes are slow, his cock digging your pussy out, bruising your cervix in an intoxicating way. Your bodies meld together, his hips dragging along your clit, stimulating it. You both pull apart, a string of saliva connecting you. Mingi admires your body as you cream on him, your face blissed out in pleasure. “So beautiful,” he mumbles. 

Mingi reaches down and grabs your chin, “Baby, open up for daddy,” he grunts. You obediently open your mouth and stick out your tongue as Mingi smiles, gathering the spit in his mouth. You watch as it slips from his pink lips and touches your tongue. 

“Swallow,” he grunts. You close your mouth and swallow, maintaining eye contact with him as you open your mouth and stick out your tongue. 

“Such a good girl.” he praises, kissing your mouth as his hips start to speed up. 

You keep your legs open as Mingi fucks you, the intimacy of the moment never faltering, his hips slapping against your soaked sex. You reach between the both of you, rubbing your clit, grabbing your nipple in your other hand, “m gonna cum Daddy,” you moan. 

“Lemme feel you a little more, ma. Creaming on my dick,” Mingi says, driving his hands into the bed, biting his lip as he fucks into your warm hole. His mouth finds yours again, and you wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist. He swallows all your moans as you cum, your heat caressing the nut out of Mingi. He rips his dick out of you, stroking it in his hand as he nuts all over your stomach, ropes of his cum exploding and hitting you as far as your mouth. “Fuuckk,” he moans.

You lick your lips, smiling at him as he leans back on his legs, looking at you. 

“Maybe I should call you daddy more often, “ you tease, swiping a finger up your stomach and pulling it into your mouth, using your pretty feet to play with Mingi’s softening cock.

He grabs your foot, pulling it to his mouth and kissing the bottom of it, “You better not try to run away when you can't take what daddy gives you,” he smiles. 

❥an: ion really have nun tuh say. i love pink-haired mingi. that's it that's all.

like, comment, reblog, allat. tyyy

mwah <3

"what are ya watchin?"

your cheeky question reaches jongho's ears as you gaze at him. he lies next to you in your bed, keeping his eyes fixed on his phone with airpods nestled in his ears. he doesn't respond, not because he's upset, but because he knows how you act when you crave attention. you tend to become whiny and adorable, so he figures it's worth ignoring you for a few minutes in exchange for a night of cuddling.

he senses your eyes on his profile and suppresses a smile. you extend a hand from beneath the covers, attempting to swipe one of his airpods, but he tilts his head away, denying your attempt. you prop yourself up higher in bed so you can get a better view of the video, but he turns his phone away.

you stare at him in shock, mouth agape, puzzled by his actions. you emit high-pitched whines about him being mean, and he finally bursts into laughter. you try to grab his phone, but he stretches his arm outside of the bed, keeping it out of your reach. you tumble onto his chest, trying to snatch it from his grasp, but he encircles his arm around your waist, preventing you from falling off the bed as he draws you closer against his chest.

"choi jongho!" you exclaim, locking eyes with him, his face smirking, and you scream, "what are you hiding?"

"nothin," he lazily smiles.

"then show me your phone," you retort, your face now mere millimeters from his, your noses almost touching.

"nah," he drawls, smirking at the sight of your angry expression. he relishes seeing you worked up.

you manage to free yourself from his hold and position yourself back on your side of the bed. turning so your back is turned to him, you cross your arms and tightly shut your eyes, attempting to sleep off your anger.

he chuckles and turns towards you, pressing his chest against your back. he holds the phone in front of your eyes, its screen still illuminated. you perceive the flickering lights through your closed eyelids and open them, only to be greeted by a random call of duty playthrough.

you slap the phone away, and he chuckles against your neck. he shuts off the phone and drops it somewhere on the bed. then, he maneuvers you so that you're face-to-face with him.

before you can push him away, he pulls you in for a leisurely kiss, and you melt in his embrace, clutching his t-shirt tightly in your fists. he breaks the kiss with a smile and draws you even closer to him. throughout the night, he peppers your lips with tender kisses until you drift off to sleep, laughing in between kisses as he makes fun of you.

masterlist

MEETING HYUNG LINE ATZ 4 THE FIRST TIME — headcanons

pairing: ateez hyung line (psh, khj, jyh, kys) x fem!reader genre: fluff wrd cnt: 4.2k warnings: different aus for each boy, violence + language + annoying man hitting on reader (hwa's part), groping and sexual harassment by creep (yuyu's part) + mention of needles and blood (yeo's part), petnames note: this weirdly took me so long that's why i didn't post my usual tiny drabbles these past days, like i think you can actually see me lose interest in writing this as you go on further and further in the post, but anyway if you like it, feel free to tell me so i can write 4 the maknae line, feel free to request anything, i'll write it 4 u bb, also completely out of context but yeosang's initials are crazy like sir?? masterlist

　　○˳　　　🎭　　　idol!hongjoong x model!reader (1.3k)

you ready yourself for what lies ahead, inhaling soft breaths to steady your nerves. you make a conscious effort not to bite on your acrylic nails, a habit that helps alleviate your stress. standing in a line filled with seasoned models, you find yourself at the forefront.

this marks your first time opening for a catwalk show, and it happens to be for balmain, one of your favorite brands. you can sense the gaze of more experienced mannequins piercing the back of your head, intensifying your desire to disappear completely.

excitement courses through you, but it is overshadowed by overwhelming anxiety. your stomach tightens beneath the long black bodycon dress. the excessively high heels dig uncomfortably into your feet, and the black fur coat feels hot and itchy against your skin. a golden necklace dips between your breasts, accentuating the deep v-cut of your dress.

gazing down at your legs, you can feel the tightness of the dress, accentuating their curves forcefully. the thought of appearing awkward while attempting to strut along the runway plagues your mind. you pout and try to recall the words of your therapist, assuring yourself that everything will be okay, despite your rising anxiety.

the staff begins the final checks on the models, informing you that the show will commence in 10 minutes. everyone nods, preparing themselves. some models ask their personal assistants to double-check their hair and makeup, while others place their healthy smoothies on the large tables at the sides.

you remain still, already prepared, though the weight of the coat on your body feels burdensome. breathing becomes a challenge, but you push through the discomfort. fake it till you make it—perhaps the placebo effect can work in your favor now; you desperately need it.

you all stand behind the grand curtains, the sound of music signaling the beginning of the show. having practiced a new, slightly more sensual catwalk routine for this occasion, you convince yourself that everything will be fine. however, the fuck ass coat… it weighs so heavily upon you.

recognizing your cue, you part the curtains on the first drop of the music. the lights dramatically illuminate your silhouette as you push your anxiety to the back of your mind, casting a seductive smirk toward the audience on either side of the runway.

you start strutting slowly, each step perfectly synchronized with the bass of the song. you know you look good, feeling your hips sway enticingly. yet, you can't help but notice the tightness in your chest and the sudden difficulty in breathing. fuck that damn coat.

quickly contemplating your options, you realize no one is behind you. if you take a dramatic pause, it won't disrupt the flow. and so, you do just that. in the middle of the runway, you come to a halt, gracefully turning on yourself as if putting on a show for the spectators. removing your coat, you reveal the backless dress beneath, flinging the fur onto someone seated in the front row. gasps of astonishment ripple through the crowd, and the camera flashes multiply, blinding you to the identity of the recipient of your 10-kilogram coat—only catching a glimpse of orange hair.

resuming your stride, you are well aware that this impulsive act will likely be splattered across social media for months. you suppress a laugh as you imagine the dramatic edits that will ensue. with the burden of the coat lifted, you finally feel free from the weight that had fueled your anxiety.

having completed the walk flawlessly, you now find yourself in your own small cubicle—a room of your own, courtesy of your friendship with olivier rousteing. seated in a chair, donning simple shorts and a t-shirt, you sip on your americano. your

face is adorned with a white face mask as you stare intently at something on your phone, hugging your knees.

the door creaks open, and you assume it's your assistant finally arriving to inform you that your uber has arrived. pushing against the dressing table, you swivel the rolling chair to face the door, only to be met with a stranger.

both of your mouths hang open in surprise, and you simply gaze at each other in disbelief. you, because you find yourself face-to-face with one of your favorite singers, hongjoong from ateez. and him, because he didn't expect you to look so adorable after witnessing the mature show you put on just thirty minutes ago.

"uhh, can i help you?" you ask, swiftly removing the mask and straightening yourself, coughing softly in awkwardness.

"uh, yeah, you… umm, dropped this earlier," he points to the weighty coat in his grasp, and your jaw drops once more.

you just threw that coat at kim fucking hongjoong. you wish you could disappear.

"oh shit, sorry, i…" you begin to stand up, almost causing the cup of americano in your lap to tumble. but you catch it in the nick of time, your reflexes acting swiftly, even as your embarrassment threatens to engulf you. "did it hurt?" you blurt out in a quick squeak.

did it hurt? did it hurt?? you must be out of your damn mind. what kind of question is that? your face flushes, and the redhead before you can only stare in shock before bursting into laughter.

"shit sorry, 'm not making fun of you, i promise precious," he manages to say in between wheezes, tears forming in his eyes. "no, it didn't. don't worry about me. i'm stronger than i look." you let out an awkward laugh, finding some amusement in the situation as well, and you wipe at your face, feeling exhausted. it's only 9 pm, but you've been at this place since dawn. hongjoong notices the tired smile on your face and straightens up.

"i didn't know who to give it to. i figured since you… uhh, wore it," he trails off, hoping you'd understand that he didn't want to waste your time.

"that's so nice of you, if i were you i would've kept it to be honest," you laugh, finally starting to feel at ease. and he smiles.

he smiles. your brain goes haywire at the sight, and you can't help but make a quick remark, "could i get your autograph?"

he looks at you as if you've just asked him the most improbable thing in the world, and you bite your lip, scolding yourself internally for getting too comfortable. "sorry, you don't have to—"

"no no no, it's alright. i just didn't think you… knew me," now it's your turn to look at him in the same way he did, and you're at a loss for words.

you try to formulate a response, attempting to convey that he's rather daft for being surprised that you recognize him. but before you can speak, your assistant finally enters the room, holding your considerably lighter coat. he eyes hongjoong up and down, and then turns to you, pointing at him discreetly.

"isn't that the guy you keep fangirling over?" your horror-stricken gaze meets your assistant's, while hongjoong hides his face behind the fur coat, muffling his laughter within the material.

your assistant fails to read the room and continues, "anyway, your uber's there. come

out whenever you're ready, but make it quick, guys." he gives both of you a knowing look, and you stare back in a mix of confusion and disbelief. he places your brown coat on the chair next to hongjoong and closes the door behind him as he exits.

"sorry about him, man. he's weird. don't mind him," you start, tossing the empty cup of americano into the trash along with the face mask you had worn. as you reach for your brown clothing, you pass by hongjoong, noticing how his eyes follow you, his smile never fading. his cologne wafts around him, but you resist the urge to inhale deeply. while putting on your coat, hongjoong finally smirks.

"i'll give you my autograph next time i see you, along with that coat. in exchange, give me your number."

○˳　　　🏍️　　　gangster!seonghwa x chaebol!reader (0.9k)

you're chilling in the vip section of one of seoul's most famous clubs. having a blast with your girlfriends, clinking glasses, and laughing uproariously. everyone around recognizes you as the daughter of a prominent politician, shamelessly having a good time with other influential figures' daughters, but they mind their own business.

you feel the judgmental gazes on you, but you try to ignore them, not wanting to let them ruin your night. your father wasn't the best person, openly feasting on the public's taxes. he was awful both in public and private. you're relieved he's a deadbeat dad, with his messed up personality, you don't have to deal with him.

you'd rather spend his ill-gotten money on clubbing and shopping, reclaiming a small piece of what he's taken from the nation. it might be foolish, but hey, you're just a young girl. what else can you do?

your thoughts are interrupted when one of your girls grabs your arm, slurring about wanting to dance. you both giggle as her words come out in slow motion. you stand up, letting her lead you onto the dance floor.

you move to the beat, her body pressed against your back, her hands caressing your bare waist as yours wave in the air. she leans in, her nose brushing against your hoop earring, and she shouts over the loud music about a guy who keeps checking you out. you turn to her, silently asking "where?" and she points behind you.

you pivot, following her gesture, and lock eyes with a man sitting in a vip section similar to yours. he's at the edge of a circular seat, accompanied by seven other guys. as his gaze meets yours, he smirks, the club's lasers reflecting off the grills in his mouth. you flash a smile, then turn away, acting unfazed. your friend catches on, throwing her head back in laughter as she teasingly grabs a handful of your ass. both of you erupt in fits of giggles, behaving like immature high school students.

the night carries on, and you grow tired of dancing. the other girls have joined you on the dance floor, so you leave them and head to the bar. you ask the bartender for a glass of water, hoping to refresh yourself a bit. suddenly, you feel a large hand on the small of your back. you smile, assuming it's the stranger from earlier, but when you turn around, your smile fades. it's some random guy, much older, and you recoil in disgust, smoothing over the spot he touched with your palm.

"ew, back off. not interested," you say dismissively, not even bothering to look at him. you shift your focus to the bartender, who gives you a sympathetic smile. he places the glass of water in front of you and goes off to clean other glasses.

the man, who still hasn't budged from behind you, snatches your drink and takes a sip. you look at him, utterly shocked, thinking, "what the fuck does he think he's doing?" he carelessly drops the cup right next to your hand on the table, causing the water to splash onto your fingers, making you flinch.

"water? nah, let me get you something good, babe. what do you want? i can get you anything," he yells at the bartender, who gives you a questioning look. you shake your head in refusal. when the guy sees that you both ignore him, he starts getting agitated.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" he snaps at you. funny, you were thinking the same thing. "you think you're better than me or something? i know who you are, you bitch. just because your daddy's th—"

before he can finish his sentence, his head slams onto the table, and he crumples to the floor, leaving a streak of blood where his nose hit the wood. you turn to the person who just knocked him out.

"seonghwa, nice to meet you, pretty. sorry about him. he won't bother you anymore," he says calmly as he takes a seat next to you, motioning for someone to remove the unconscious body. you stare at him in astonishment before taking a sip of your water, letting the cool liquid calm you down.

he signals the bartender, who swiftly approaches, discussing a glass on the rocks. the older man nods unsteadily. taking advantage of the moment, you let your eyes wander over his face. he's attractive, but that's not what catches your attention. the dragon tattoo peeks out from his shirt, extending along the side of his neck. it's the symbol of the notorious gang and, surprisingly, the owners of the club you're in.

"you often handle paying patrons like that?" you inquire, taking another sip of your water and gazing straight ahead.

now it's his turn to feel your gaze on his profile, and you can hear his chuckle. "i only do that to the ones who scare the highest-paying patrons," he cleverly replies, alluding to your wealthy background. you roll your eyes and turn to face him, resting your elbows on the table and propping your cheek on your fists.

"'m not paying for my water, you are," you state, and he laughs, mimicking your posture by resting his cheek on his hand.

"am i now? and why would i do that, pretty?" he smirks. you can now see the details of his grills more clearly, small diamonds adorning the silver jewelry, and you smirk right back at him. a few strands of hair fall across your face as your body shakes with laughter.

"'cause you got a crush on me," you drawl out the last word, your smile widening, your cheeks starting to hurt. he moves one hand to your face, gently brushing the hair away with a feather-light touch, and chuckles softly.

"such a smart girl."

　　○˳　　　🚟　　　student!yunho x student!reader (0.8k)

you gaze down at the subway floor beneath your feet, gripping your eyes tightly. the train compartment is packed to the brim, the morning rush causing people to scramble and squeeze together. however, you're well aware that the hand grazing against your skirt is no accidental result of the cramped space.

clenching your fists, you lean your forehead against the windowpane of the door ahead, seeking solace in the cold surface. a scream wells up within you, the desire to make a scene overwhelming, but this is the first time such a thing has happened to you. frozen, you're unable to react.

your eyes sting with tears, and you attempt to hold them back, but they refuse to be contained. small droplets trickle down your cheeks, and you gently brush them away with the sleeves of your uniform.

suddenly, the subway screeches to a halt, reaching a new station before the doors slide open in front of you. you lower your gaze to the floor, your hair partially obscuring your face, and you notice only one pair of jordan 4 sneakers and a pair of pants resembling the ones worn by boys in your school. your curiosity leads you to glance up swiftly, and there stands one of the tallest boys you've ever seen. he's a stranger, someone you've never crossed paths with before, but you surmise he must be a new student at your school, given the familiar uniform.

he stares at your face, taking note of the tear tracks on your cheeks, then casts a quick glance behind you, piercing through the person who has been violating your boundaries for the past five minutes. in an instant, he connects the dots, understanding the situation, and his expression changes from shock to anger.

he steps into the train, forcefully grabbing the man behind you before hurling him out with a powerful throw. the man lands on his rear with a grunt, and before he can utter a word, the doors seal shut.

you have no time to react as more people flood in through the other subway doors, inadvertently pushing against your body. almost losing your balance, the boy behind you grabs your forearm, turning you around and gently pressing you against the door. his hands shield you from the surrounding crowd, his larger and stronger frame providing protection.

you can only gaze up at him, fear evident in your wide eyes, while he looks down at the others around him, his face reflecting displeasure as people jostle against him. eventually, he looks back at you, and his expression softens.

"sorry for touching you like that," he whispers, and you feel a tug at your heart, strangely soothed by his voice despite his recent shoving and pushing.

"like what?" you respond softly, perplexed because he has nothing to apologize for; in fact, he did the complete opposite by helping you fend off the harasser.

he simply gestures toward your forearm with his long finger, not even making contact, alluding to the moment he turned you to face him.

"oh," you glance down at your arm, "'s alright," you say awkwardly.

silence hangs between the two of you. you try not to dwell on how close he is to you, but this time, the proximity doesn't make you uncomfortable. while yunho gazes upward, deliberately avoiding meeting your eyes, he can't help but notice their beauty—the way they shine so brightly with tears—making him feel breathless, as though he could suffocate if he stares for too long, forgetting to breathe.

"by the way, thank you for, umm…" you finally manage to speak, still unable to meet his gaze as his eyes find their way back to you, "you know, yeah, thanks."

he's about to reply, insisting it was nothing, when the door behind you opens. a gasp escapes your lips as you begin to lose your balance, but his hand instinctively reaches out, pulling you closer and helping you regain stability.

he tries to create distance between you, but the stream of people surging in from behind prevents it. the next station is even more crowded than the previous, as it draws nearer to downtown. pressed tightly against his chest, your left cheek resting against his pec, you can hear his heartbeat quicken. the closeness causes his ears and neck to turn bright red.

once both of you step out of the subway, finally arriving at the station that leads to your school, you release a weary sigh simultaneously. at the sound, you look at each other and share a soft chuckle.

walking in the same direction, you have a feeling that getting this close to yunho won't be a one-time occurrence.

　　○˳　　　💉　　　doctor!yeosang x patient!reader (1.2k)

"so, how did that happen?" yeosang mumbles as he checks out the open gash on your hairline, his gloved hands carefully examining the wound. you wince in pain when he applies a bit too much pressure, and he gives you an apologetic look before returning to his seat, tossing the gloves into the tiny trash can beside him.

you're in one of the er rooms, sitting on the examination table, and you're grateful for the blood smeared on your face, hiding the blush you can't help but feel around the cute doctor. you nervously bite your lip, and he notices, reaching out with his thumb to release your poor lip from the clutches of your teeth. you don't overthink the gesture; after all, he's a doctor who doesn't want you to cause another injury to your face.

raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, he expects an answer to his previous question. you fiddle with your fingers, trying to come up with a response that won't embarrass you. eventually, you let your shoulders slump in defeat and clear your throat.

"my friend, uh, told me a joke, and it made my stomach hurt. i clutched my stomach," you explain, and he nods along, ensuring he follows the story. "but then, when i bent down too fast, i ended up smacking my head on the glass table and, umm, breaking it…"

he hides his face behind his palm, scribbling something in the paper placed in your folder. you can tell from the shaking of his shoulders that he's laughing. he mumbles something about how the joke must've been really funny.

you offer a shaky smile as he explains the next steps you'll need to take at home. he mentions that you won't require sutures since he doesn't want any obvious scarring, which is a relief because you're not exactly fond of needles. he continues talking about the medications and creams you'll need to apply to your face every night and day for the next month. you agree with a soft nod, feeling the throbbing headache intensify with each movement.

he hands you a prescription paper, and as you reach for it, you nearly stumble, experiencing the same dizziness that preceded fainting. but he catches you in his strong arms with lightning reflexes. you pull back, clutching your head instead, as the headache reaches unbearable levels.

yeosang notices your distress and swiftly guides you back onto the bed, using the gentlest movements. he takes hold of your chin between his fingers and looks into your fluttering eyes as you struggle to keep them open. worry lines crease his forehead as he reaches into his front pocket, retrieving not a pen, but a small flashlight. he shines it in your face, swiftly passing it in front of your eyes to check for dilation.

"you've lost quite a bit of blood," he says, his jaw tensing with concern as he lightly traces the back of his fingers along your cheekbones. "i can't believe i missed that…"

you wave your hand dismissively, whispering that it's okay since you only recently started feeling the effects of the blood loss.

"do you know your blood type? we need to transfuse, sweetheart," he whispers, clicking on his laptop, most likely searching for your blood type in your folder, which isn't available since this is your first visit to this hospital. you don't dwell on the endearment, too focused on recalling your blood type from memory.

"no, sorry, i don't remember," you meekly reply, feeling a tinge of embarrassment. after all, what adult doesn't know their own blood type?

"it's okay," he reassures, turning to you with a soft smile. "i'll take a sample, send it to one of the nurses, and they'll find out for us, okay?"

the question is rhetorical, and you realize it. you don't bother mentioning your fear of needles; it's not that you're scared of them, but you just don't want them penetrating your body.

with wide eyes and clammy hands, you agree with a small nod. yeosang immediately notices your tension. your knee bounces up and down rapidly, and your hands tremble slightly in your lap. he doesn't say anything as he retrieves a disinfected syringe from a small plastic container, along with two tubes.

he brings a chair in front of you and takes a seat, bringing himself down to your level. you gaze at him through your lashes, and yeosang feels his heart skip a beat. he takes a deep breath, then gently holds your hands, rubbing his thumbs softly against your skin. he can feel your rapid heartbeat under his touch and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"hey," he simply says, and you look at him, waiting for more. when no further words come, you respond with a quiet "hey" of your own.

"good, the patient is responsive, not a lifeless body," he smiles crookedly, cracking a joke that brings a smile to your face.

"wow, the patient is even smiling. today must be my lucky day," your smile widens, and he releases your hands. you hadn't realized how grounding his touch had been until it disappeared.

he grabs your arm and places your hand on his lap, palm facing up. he starts tapping the crook of your elbow since you're wearing a t-shirt, trying to locate your veins. when they don't appear, he clucks his tongue and takes hold of your smaller fist in his own, manually making your hand clench while his other hand remains on your forearm, attempting to raise a vein.

you remain silent and still, focusing on his concentrated expression. his eyebrows furrow, and his eyes remain fixed except for the occasional blink. his strong nose defines his face, and you notice the spot where he bites his cheek from inside his mouth. there's a small birthmark next to his eye, shaped like a tiny heart, and you find it endearing.

"enjoying the view?" he smirks, and before you can respond to defend your honor, he grabs the syringe, effectively silencing you. he tears open the packaging, discarding the waste on the table, and approaches your arm.

you flinch when he places a hand on your forearm, and he looks up at you with a gentle smile. however, the sight of the needle next to his face does little to calm you.

"'m gonna need you to keep your eyes on me, can you do that?" he asks, and you nod once, not planning on fixating on the impending puncture. "i'll make it quick, i promise, princess. do you trust me?" once again, you nod, this time thrown off balance by the endearing nickname, which he notices through the quiver of your lips.

"if i asked for your number, would you give it to me?" he shocks you with the question, as he's one of the most beautiful humans you've ever encountered, and here you are, looking like a complete mess with half your face covered in blood and a massive hole in your forehead.

"y-yeah, i would, obviously," you stammer, and he swiftly inserts the needle, hitting the vein accurately—something for which you're internally grateful. instinctively, you glance downward, but he quickly clicks his tongue, drawing your attention back.

"what did we say, eyes on me," he shows off his perfect teeth as he finally removes the needle, carefully transferring its contents into the two small bottles which he pushes aside. "now about this phone number."

soybean stew

navi

pairing: choi san x afab!reader

w.c.: 5.5k

tags: smut, fluff, so much fluff, and even more fluff, established relationship, reader is not gendered (afab), san is so in love, he's so in love!!!! and it's so fluffy!!! and he can cook, but he's a little clumsy, did I mention the fluff?

trudging back home after your final exam, wanting nothing but to sink into bed and sleep through the next three years, san welcomed you with a warm bath and a home-cooked meal. and even as the moon fell to make way for the morning rays, he continued to shower you with his never-ending love.

A/N: this has been a wip since april and I kinda abandoned it because uni was beating my ass,, buuut I figured it would be a great (belated) birthday fic for san!! (´ ε ` )♡ and happy birthday to my favourite himbo ^^ happy reading! please consider reblogging/leaving feedback if you enjoy my work~ ><

nsfw & warnings under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

warnings: beware!!! the fluff may be deadly, reader is not gendered (afab), morning sex, lovemaking, oral sex (f), fingering (f), unprotected sex (👎🏼), multiple orgasms (m), multiple creampies, overstimulation, praise, edging, orgasm denial (only for a bit), nicknames (sannie; love, darling, sweetheart, baby), very sappy, so many kisses, like.... a lot, san gets so desperate at one point... oh lord, so whiny too, and so in love :(

Your soaked sneakers slammed over the pavement, splashing into the puddles of rainwater showering the Earth. The umbrella you held onto for dear life did nothing to protect you from the downpour, your lower half left helpless to the droplets the wind pushed at it, darkening your jeans to match the overcast sky under which you were walking. The revision notes felt heavy in the bag slung over your shoulder, and you wanted nothing but to burn them and have a barbeque over the flame to celebrate the end of your semester.

Dragging your sore body through the streets and into the shelter of your apartment building, you found yourself out of breath by the time you arrived at your front door. Your arm felt like deadweight as you raised it to unlock your door with languid movements. You lugged your body through the entrance and into the joint living area and kitchen, eyes falling on the tall figure of Choi San, all broad shoulders and glowing skin, swaying his hips to the music playing from his phone, masking the jingle of your keys. A sudden rush of energy – though miniscule – pushed you towards the man, your arms snaking around his waist, his body jolting in your hold and the ladle in his hand rising in defense with a throaty scream.

“Ah! (Y/n)- Fuck-” He slumped over the stove, the steam from the bubbling pot brushing over the smooth skin of his face. “You scared me, sweetheart,” he laughed breathlessly.

You managed a half-hearted apology and a giggle as you pressed your head to his bicep to watch as tofu and an array of vegetables danced in the brownish broth, the pleasant aroma making your stomach rumble against San’s back. He laughed to himself, dropping the ladle into the pot and twisting his body to face you, his arms encircling your shoulders and bringing you closer to his body.

“The jjigae needs a while longer to be ready,” he brushed his hand over the back of your head. “I should’ve started cooking earlier, sorry.”

You leaned in to press a kiss to his pouty lips and shook your head, an easy smile stretching your mouth. It baffled you how you were barely conscious a few minutes ago, but upon laying your eyes on San, wrapping yourself up in his arms, inhaling the uniqueness of his scent – a blend of bergamot and sage, with a hint of baby powder – you felt revived, ready to conquer the world (even though a certain man with broad shoulders and a pretty smile would fight every entity that opposed you before you had the chance to lift a finger).

“I don’t mind waiting,” you pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth before leaning away to admire the stupid smile on his face, his eyes glowing with unrivaled adoration.

“How about I run you a bath, hm? Dinner should be done by the time you finish.” His fingers rubbed small, warming circles over the damp material of the coat you didn’t bother shrug off upon entry, too engrossed in greeting your boyfriend.

You nodded, an easy smile twisting the corners of your lips as you swayed gently in San’s arms. He took you in, from the way the wind had left your locks dishevelled to the dark circles under your weary eyes. San could see your mismatched socks through the slight gap separating your bodies. They weren’t even similar colours—proof of how exhausted you actually were. He cupped your jaw, and you felt the drag of the bandages wrapped around two of his fingers across your cheek. You grabbed his hand and held it in front of you, shooting a glare at him while he sheepishly looked to the side. Injuries were inevitable when you leave a man who can’t even walk straight alone with a sharp knife. Though, scolding San for hurting himself while doing something so thoughtful was not within your capabilities. The guilt would eat at your insides for weeks until it left a hollow cavity brimming with rue and self-condemnation.

You brought the bandaged fingers to your lips, pressing tender kisses to the wounded skin. “Thank you, Sannie,” you gently spoke. For everything you do for me, you silently added. And the smile on San’s face told you he understood.

He had every little detail about you engraved into his mind, from the blemishes decorating your skin to the way your eyes spoke to him when putting your thoughts into words proved to be a task too difficult. You sometimes felt like San knew you better than you did yourself, recognizing exactly what you need before you even had the chance to think about it.  And whenever you felt self-conscious about not being as perceptive, San was quick to assure you that you did more than enough for him, that your smile alone could solve all his predicaments.

San led you to the bathroom, turning away from you as you began to strip. He sat at the edge of the bathtub, switching on the water and holding his hand under the tap until he deemed it warm enough, plugging the drain and getting up. Turning back around, San’s eyes fixed on your exposed skin while he blindly reached for the cabinet, tracing the swell of your breasts and the curvature of your waist, blinking slowly as he felt saliva pooling in his mouth at the sight of you before him.

And then he met your eyes, freezing in place when you raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat – a little louder than he’d intended – and hoped you wouldn’t notice the bright red tinting his cheeks as he desperately scrambled to grab onto the handle, flinging the cabinet door open and effectively hiding his face behind the wood. You stifled a laugh, shoving your clothes into the laundry basket while San rummaged through the items stored underneath the sink, pulling out a rose-shaped bath bomb. He stood back up, smiling like an idiot when he turned to face you again, the previous timidity nowhere to be seen as he ogled your bare body with newfound confidence.

“You’re insufferable,” you grimaced, shying away from his gaze.

He breathed out a laugh, the fondness glimmering in his eyes sending a wave of warmth through your body and straight to your heart, sensing as it swelled with adoration. You wondered what you might have done in a previous life that deemed you deserving of Choi San—a man who never failed to make you feel loved, cherished, wanted.

“Stop it,” you whined when San’s eyes remained on you, though not moving off your face.

“It’s hard to look away from you, darling,” he swooned, putting his arms up to protect himself from the towel you threw his way, a soft chuckle echoing in the bathroom.

You waited for him to turn his back to you before allowing the smile you’d been holding back to sneak onto your face, tilting your head down to shield it from view. San didn’t bother hiding his own, dimples sinking into his cheeks as he dropped the bath bomb into the tub, watching it fizz and leak a soft shade of pink into the water.

“Let me know if the water’s too hot,” San spoke, making his way back to you.

He held your face in his hands, pressing his lips to your forehead before pulling away with an easy smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes. You hummed a ‘thank you,’ passing San to step into the water, jolting when a warm palm landed on your ass, the sound reverberating between the walls.

“Yah!” You yelled and watched as the culprit escaped, leaving behind a trail of high-pitched giggles to keep you company.

You shook your head, a smile on your lips, and continued your descent into the warm bath. You relaxed your body, sighing contently when the water brushed the tip of your nose, feeling the weariness of this past month melt away into nothing.

--

San placed two bowls of rice down on the dining table beside a pair of empty ones, walking back to the stove to grab the bubbling pot of stew. The distant roar of the hairdryer stopped, and the bathroom door swung open down the hall. You walked out, a trail of steam following you as you made your way to the kitchen to watch San place the pot down on the wooden table. He straightened up and an easy smile took over his lips when his eyes landed on you—dressed in one of his hoodies, your cheeks flushed from the warm bath. You found yourself rushing into his open arms, burying your face into San’s chest and making a home in his cordial embrace. He nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo and pressing a kiss to your hair.

San placed another peck to your temple before pulling away and leading you to a chair, pulling it out, and waiting for you to sit down before pushing it back in. You shook your head and huffed out a laugh at the simple, yet endearing gestures engraved so deeply into San’s mannerisms. You’d thought they would’ve stopped after a couple months of dating, but here you were, quite a few years in and he remained the gentleman you had fallen in love with on a windy autumn afternoon.

San walked around the table and took the seat across from you, reaching for the ladle and pouring stew into one of the empty bowls, handing it to you before filling up his own. You smiled, inhaling the steam dancing above your bowl, exhaling with a deep, happy hum. You picked up your spoon, scooping up some of the rice and dipping it into the stew before bringing it to your mouth. You blew on it, aware of San’s eyes on you, gauging your reaction as you chewed on the food.

“Be honest,” he spoke, the smile on his lips carrying a hint of tension and anxiety.

You knew he cared the most about your opinion, and wanting nothing but to see the dimples sinking into his cheeks, you fluttered your eyes shut and swayed your body from side to side while humming exaggeratedly. “Mmm! Sannie, this is the best meal I’ve ever had!”

You reached across the table to cover his hand with your palm, and he didn’t waste time flipping it over and giving yours a squeeze. The smile stretching his lips nearly split his face open, a bright red colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “It’s my mum’s recipe,” he scratched at his nape with his free hand.

You felt your chest well up with infatuation, fondness, love. Choi San occupied every inch of your being, and he was wholly unaware of it all—the effect he had on you, how you melted into putty in hands whenever he smiled your way. The gentle touches, the sappy flirting. He drove you crazy at times, and you wondered when you became greedy, wanting to rob the dimpled man of every last drop of his love.

“Well, you did it justice. It’s delicious,” you mirrored the smile he was giving you.

Your fingers remained entwined throughout dinner, even when San directed his spoon towards you, shoveling half of his own portion into your mouth despite your complaints. You tried doing the same, but for every spoon you pushed past his lips, he fed you two back until you were on the verge of exploding, swearing on every living family member you had that another bite would make your heart stop. San only laughed, extending his free arm to brush away the grain of rice stuck to the corner of your mouth, leaning back and sucking the food off his thumb with a coy smile.

You cleared your throat, ignoring the flash of warmth coursing through your body at the action. You were so adorable, San thought, getting up when you did, plastering himself to your back and waddling with you to the living room. You held onto his arms where they were crossed around your chest, stopping by the couch before unwinding your limbs and twisting around to face him. With his hands on your waist, San urged you closer until your arms wrapped around his neck, leaning down to press his mouth to yours.

The kiss was soft, your lips slotting perfectly over each other while you shared your body heat, your fingers tangling in the hair at San’s nape and lightly scratching at the skin. San parted from you only to place tender pecks over your pouted lips, trailing his own over the plushness and to your cheeks, nuzzling his nose against them before pulling away. He walked you backwards until the backs of your knees met the couch, dropping you gently onto the cushion. You found yourself wrapped in your favourite blanket before you could complain about San's hands not being on you, tucked into the corner of the couch with a movie playing on the TV. With a kiss to your forehead and a whispered “I’ll be right back,” San walked back to the kitchen, giggling menacingly at your displeased grumbling.

San’s hips swayed while he loaded the dishwasher, his thoughts revolving around a certain individual impatiently waiting for him on the couch. An individual he was helplessly infatuated with, having built his future in his mind around them—around their interests, their occupation, their preferred paint colour, their desired pet, whether he’d have to build a cot at some point in his life. He rinsed down the spoons while thinking back to the first time he saw you—sat on a bench under the yellowing tree, bright red and orange colouring the dying leaves. How lucky he was, San thought, to still be looked at the same way by the person he was in love with. All starry eyes and warm smiles, as though he’d built you a kingdom with nothing but his calloused hands.

Slipping off his bright pink rubber gloves, he made his way past the dining table and into the living area, his bare feet padding across the carpeted floor and stopping right in front of your sleeping figure. He mooned over your resting face for a few moments, the TV playing idly in the background as he studied the soft furrow of your eyebrows, the gentle grip you had on the corner of the blanket in which you were wrapped up in, the thin line of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and onto the cushion under your head. San's fist tightened in resistance, the squeal tickling the base of his throat fighting to be let out as he barely held back the aggressive stomps. Everything about you drove him insane, even when you were doing something as simple as fulfilling a basic human need. He took you in for longer than he’d wish to confess, trailing his eyes over every inch of your face before snapping out of the trance he’d found himself in, a dribble of saliva leaving his own mouth while fondness brimmed in his chest.

He scooped you up in his arms, careful not to awaken you, small, light steps carrying him to your shared bedroom. Abruptly stopping in the middle of the hallway, San bit down on his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut when you nuzzled your face into his chest, resisting the urge to cover your face in kisses. His grip on you tightened and he willed his legs to move, taking a few – slightly hurried – strides through the hallway and into your room.

Delicately placing you under the covers, San untangled you from the fluffy blanket and threw it over the duvet—the night grew cold now that winter was inching closer.  He made a quick work of his clothes, throwing on a hoodie not strained with splotches of soybean paste before slipping into bed. His arm naturally slid under your head, his other arm snaking around your waist and tucking you into his chest, a satisfied exhale blowing out of your nose. Sleep found him fleetly, hints of rose mixing with your natural scent to surround him with familiar amenity, your body soft and pliant against his. Pressing his lips to your forehead, San wrapped himself around you and allowed the gentle tugs of slumber to shut his eyes, his last thoughts circling around the person in his arms, hoping the next day would come quickly, wanting nothing more but to drown them in his affection.  

Streaks of gold filtered through the chiffon curtains, the sheer material futile against the aurous beams of light revering the start of the new day. Peeking your eyes open, you blinked away the contrasting brightness of your room, shadows splayed over the disordered sheets and a warm body plastered to your side. San’s head lay lower on the pillow, his exhales blowing over your neck, features softened in tranquility while his chest rose and fell with each breath. You wondered if he was dreaming of you.

Your shoulders felt light, your breathing easy, and the stress of assignments and exams gone with the moonless night, the new sun casting shadows over the face tucked into your neck. San had been so patient with you, planning dates around your busy schedule and racking up the phone bill as he pulled recipe after recipe from his mother every evening. While you were too immersed in reading articles, San made sure you didn’t skip meals, that your water bottle was always full and sitting on the right side of your desk, that your shared home remained clean, that the knots in your shoulders never wound too tight, his delicate fingers working over your muscles as you clung to his torso at night. And though he never deprived you of his affection, you felt an untamable need for him, a wildfire burning in your gut as you took in his resting features.

You started off gentle, your lips feathering over San’s temple and down to his cheekbone, quickly growing frustrated at the continued evenness of his breath. So the needy, openmouthed kisses began, leaving a thin sheen of saliva in the shape of your lips reflecting the morning rays, your fingers brushing dark strands off his forehead to plant kisses there as well. You felt his nose twitch as you pecked down the bridge, the subtle pouting of his lips curling the corners of yours.

Your hands made their way under San’s sleep shirt, your nails dragging over his spine before splaying your palms out to feel the warmth of his skin. You threw your leg over his hip, shuffling closer to his body and trailing your lips down to his cupid’s bow. “Sannie,” kiss, “wake up,” kiss.

He peeked an eye open to look at you, quickly shutting it as he stretched out his limbs, a deep groan echoing in his chest. He relaxed back in your arms, blinking his eyes in quick succession to peer at you with hints of his dream still playing in his head.

“’Morning,” he mumbled, the rasp in his voice only adding to your need for him, his knuckles running over the slope of your jawline.

You leaned down to kiss him again, a slow dancing of lips while the thrushes and blackbirds sang a melody on your windowsill. San was still waking up, you knew that, yet you couldn’t help but nestle closer, holding his face and nuzzling your nose into the side of his as you deepened the kiss. It took him a few seconds to notice your restlessness, your hand slipping off his jaw to run over his sides, sliding under the hem of his shirt and squeezing at the flesh of his waist.

Shaking the last of his drowsiness away, he rolled your bodies sideways until he had you on your back, looking up at him with a mix of confusion and lust. San knew you better than you knew yourself, you remembered as he leaned over you to press a firm, closemouthed kiss to your lips, followed by a trail of tender pecks down your neck. “What’s got you so needy this early in the morning?”

You could feel his smile on your skin as he peppered your neck with kisses, dragging his teeth over your pulse point. “Missed you,” you breathed out, fingers curling around the material hugging his broad shoulders. “Want you.”

San hummed, low in his throat, “I’m here, I’m all yours.” His hands coasted over your sides and down to your hips to hook his fingers into your waistband, slowly sliding off your bottoms and panties in one go, his lips pressing over every inch of newly exposed skin.

Your pants and his haphazardly thrown behind him, San ran both hands down your inner thighs to spread you open, slotting himself between your legs and leaning over you to dot kisses over your jawline and cheeks. “Can I taste you, my darling?”

The rough material of his boxers pressed against your mound, your vision blurring at the friction. “But I want you,” you whined, sliding a hand down his back and resting it over his firm ass to pull him closer.

“Just for a little bit,” he kissed at your pouty lips, grinding his hips into you, the hard outline of his cock straining against the thin fabric. “Please? ‘Wanna feel you on my tongue.”

A shiver ran through you, and you nodded hesitantly, watching as San descended your body with a muttered ‘thank you.’

--

‘Just for a little bit’ faded into the illuminated dust swimming in the air around you, your mind disconnecting from reality the moment San’s lips found your pussy. It felt like hours in a realm of ecstasy, hot arousal gushing out of you with every suck to your clit, your vision blurring when thick fingers breached your entrance. San lapped at your cunt like a starved man, his tongue flattening over your swollen nub while you desperately rolled your hips over his face, exhaling breathy moans as you neared your high for the nth time, only for him to anchor you down on the mattress with an arm over your lower belly, retracting his tongue to press tender kisses over and around your slit.

“No, no,” you whined as your orgasm dwindled, tears pooling in your eyes and your hands tugging at his dark strands, attempting to push his face back onto you. His fingers curled inside you, pushing up into your g-spot to remind you of their presence, hips slowly rutting into the sheets under him. “Sannie, please.”

He slipped out of you to trail soft kisses along the heated skin as he journeyed up your body, pressing his lips to the pout on yours before pulling away to take you in—all teary eyes and slick skin, gilded under the early rays. Strong arms enclosed around you, soft tufts of dark hair tickling the side of your neck as San dipped his head onto your shoulder. Inhaling deeply, he breathed in the familiar scent of your bodywash, a hint of your shampoo tickling his senses as he basked in your warmth. A muttered echo of his name broke him away from you, his lips parting off your skin to allow a string of curses exit, his leaking cock now burrowed between your folds, cockhead teasing over your clit. “Are you ready for me, love?”

Your frantic nodding and pleas brought a smile to his face, lowering himself over you again to gather you into his arms, his hand sliding between your bodies to align himself with your waiting cunt. Your hips jumped when his thick girth breached your entrance, your nails dragging down San’s spine at the gradual stretch. Feathery pecks turned into open-mouthed kisses over your face, San’s heavy breaths interrupted by the comforting gesture. He trailed his lips down your jaw to nuzzle his nose into the skin below your ear, his pants growing into shaky moans when his cock fully sheathed within you, the gentle squeeze of your walls around him shaking his body with violent shivers.

“Please move,” you tried, rolling your hips in protest, and San’s hands scrambled to stop you.

“W-wait, fuck-”

His body convulsed atop yours, a gravelly grunt ripping through his chest as a familiar warmth spread through your lower belly. His cock twitched inside you, spurting pathetic ropes of cum while he curled in on himself, shuddering as his orgasm washed over him unexpectedly with repeated apologies on his tongue. Your hand smoothed over his back, rubbing soothing circled into his skin while he recovered, imagining the bright red coating the cheeks he was hiding from you.

“San?”

He hummed, his voice small.

“Can you look at me?”

He shook his head, soft strands grazing over your skin at the motion.

“Why not?”

He paused, and you could feel the warmth of his face on your shoulder, “’m embarrassed,” he mumbled.

Your palms cupped his heated cheeks, prying him off your skin and holding his head above you to look at him properly. Teary, half-lidded eyes stared back at you, flushed cheeks squished inwards and his lips pouted in chagrin. You guided his face down to yours, pressing comforting kisses over his eyebrow and temple, “no need to be embarrassed, love.”

He huffed out a breath, tilting his head to slot his lips over yours, leaving a chaste kiss on your mouth before wrapping his arms around you to bring you into his chest. His hips began rolling into yours before you could question it, a breathy moan blowing over San’s collarbone as his cock glided over your walls.

“Missed you so much,” he planted a kiss on the side of your neck, “couldn’t help it, ‘felt so good,” he rambled into your skin.

You could feel his cock chubbing up inside you again, San’s soft grunts echoing in your ear as he pushed through the overstimulation. Languid grinding turned into pointed thrusts, rough palms running over the outside of your thighs and guiding them around his waist, waiting until your feet locked at the small of his back before readjusting his angle. With San’s body covering yours and his mouth on your neck, he aimed his cockhead at your g-spot with shallow drives into your sopping heat. He grazed his teeth over your pulse point, a shiver running through you as he littered an array of faint bruises over the column of your throat. In a couple hours, your skin would become a palette of blues and purples, and San would sheepishly scratch at his neck while you reprimanded him for his messy colouring.

San’s cock stilled inside you, moving only to glide the remainder of his length between your fluttering walls. “Where did you go?” Of course he’d caught you zoning out. “I thought I'd get you all to myself now that you were done with exams,” the pout on his lips pulled at your heart strings.

Your fingers ran through his hair, and you leaned upward to peck at his lips, “you have me, Sannie, I’m all yours.”

San smiled, sliding a hand under you to cup the back of your head, catching your lips in a kiss laced with the thick essence of yearning and lust—as though he couldn’t bare part with you ever again, not even to grab a glass of water. “Mine, mine, mine,” he recited against your lips, moving down to pepper kisses over the bruises painting your skin. “Gonna fuck you so full, sweetheart, ‘make sure everyone knows you’re my sweet baby.”

Your hand reached down to his thigh, grazing the soft skin and trailing upward until your palm cupped his plump ass, urging his hips forward and into your cunt. “Want it, please, want you so bad.”

His lips found yours, parting to run his tongue over your cupid’s bow before planting soft, delicate kisses over the corners of your mouth. Your nails dug into the flesh of his ass, eyes rolling back as he pounded into you with boiling desperation. Utterances of ‘missed you’ vibrated over your skin, your chests flush and nipple grazing over each other every time San bucked into you, his words broken-up by airy moans. Through the thick haze coating your brain, you recognized the tingle in your stomach warning you of your impending orgasm, San’s frantic hands touching every patch of skin available to him, his teeth nibbling on the skin of your collarbones while he fucked into you uncontrollably.

“Gonna cum,” he breathed out, lifting his head to take you in with glassy eyes. “Hngh! ‘Missed you so fucking much,” he pulled you into his chest, only to lean back two second later to admire your fucked-out expression—staring back at him with hooded eyes, pleasure soaring through your body and disrupting every thought, San’s relentless pace as he hammered his cock into your pulsating cunt barreling you closer to the edge. “So perfect,” he pushed the damp hair off your forehead. “Gonna fuck you full, darling, can I? ‘Wanna give you all I have,” he babbled, slurring his words as tears welled up in his eyes, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

“Nghh! G-give it to me, Sannie,” you tightened your legs around him, pushing him further into you and clenched around him.

San’s hips stuttered, his steady rhythm replaced with erratic pounding, his cock filling you up before slipping out, only to thrust back into you without relent. The edging, San’s mouth on your clit, his fingers stuffed inside you, only to pull away every time you came close to an orgasm, and now, his cock pressing into you g-spot while his pelvis grinded over your sensitive nub—you weren’t sure which factor pushed you over the edge, except you found yourself tumbling down a verdant, sunlit hill, wildflowers and dandelions sweeping over your skin in your descent. Your vision blurred, the silhouette of a man brimming with adoration going in and out of focus, the soft melody of moans and echoes of your name reverberating in the back of your mind as your orgasm finally rushed through you, your nerves aflame and body jolting over the soiled sheets.

For what felt like hours, he guided you through your high. Leisurely grinds of his hips, rocking back and forth with his cock sheathed deep within you, even after ropes of white joined the previous load he’d fucked into you, your bodies spasming together as tinges of overstimulation mingled with pleasure. His eyes scanned your face, studying the subtle shifts in your features while his hands roamed your body—from the twitch of your eyebrow to the upward curl of your mouth; palms dipping into the contour of your waist, and curving over the slope of your hips, holding you delicately while you trembled in his arms. He slipped out of you at the first whimper leaving your lips, his muscles slackening as the shots of pleasurable pain subsided.

The mattress jumped, San’s body falling sideways into the space beside you, his arms instantly working on tugging you closer to him, inhaling the flowery scent of your shampoo while digging his fingers into the knots in your back.

San’s soft humming carried on until the sun found its locus in the cloudless sky, the rays sharp where they snuck through the gap in your curtains. You slipped in and out of consciousness, the warm body cradling you and the patterned rise and fall of its chest spreading a veil of tranquility over the quiet room. The peacefulness resided even as San pulled you out of bed and into the shower, washing off the sweat and grime with wandering hands and impish touches, high-pitched giggles and squeals echoing between the tiled walls.

It felt like deja’vu, finding yourself curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, except this time, San’s firm body enveloped yours while you sipped on your coffee, feline eyes moving off the TV every time you brought the mug to your lips, watching their subtle pout as you swallowed down the steaming liquid. His gaze flitted lower, examining the splashes of purple and blue decorating your neck with a fond—and slightly cocky—smile stretching his lips.  

You remained entrapped within each other’s warmth, the sunlight shifting hues every other hour, from a burning yellow to a warm orange, mixing with magenta and rose when the orb of light neared the horizon. Characters moved around on the large screen: Mulan, then Rapunzel, and now Ariel, the baritone of San’s voice harmonizing with the various ballads blasting through the speakers, your hearty giggles filling up the room when he slipped away from you to dance along with Sebastian to ‘Under the Sea.’

Securing him back in your arms, you watched the rest of the movie in peace, humming the remaining songs and arguing who would get to be the purple mermaid next time you went swimming, the empty bowls of leftover jjigae resting idly on the coffee table, their ceramic reflecting the changing hues of the dying sun.

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