SUNDAY | Seven | Smg X F!reader

SUNDAY | Seven | smg x f!reader

You wrap around me and you give me life And that's why night after night I'll be fucking you right

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.9k | Pairing: smg x f!reader | Genre: smut, romance

Warnings: cockwarming, piv sex, creampie, marking/scratching

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina

Mingi didn’t understand the beauty of bathing until he met you. He washed, of course, but his showers were utilitarian and quick, water cold and soap three-in-one. Then you came along and introduced him to the luxurious side of getting clean, and now his life is forever changed. 

There’s a speaker in your bathroom, and a bluetooth controlled sunlamp, and a fucking towel warmer too. You’ve got a basket in your vanity just for face masks, and another for shower melts and bath bombs. He even uses separate shampoo, conditioner, and body wash now.

The absolute best part, though, has to be getting to bathe with you. 

It’s like a ritual for you, and Mingi always feels so special to be included in the process. Today is an everything shower day, and he gets to tag along for the tail end of it - a bath and a face mask. He used to wonder why you end the day with a bath, but after seeing all that goes into an everything shower, he doesn’t blame you for wanting to relax. 

You sit on the edge of the tub, your hair twisted up in your special towel and your naked body still damp. In the early days, you would use towels in between, too shy to be naked with each other out of the context of sex. Now, you’re both comfortable being nude as you wait for the tub to fill. 

That doesn’t mean his dick doesn’t get hard at the sight of you though. He can tell himself it’s not sexual as much as he wants, it still won’t stop his body’s natural reaction to yours. He’s not embarrassed by it anymore, thankfully, and you’re usually too focused on your routine to care. 

Not tonight, it seems. 

You can’t tear your eyes off of him, his chest, his arms, his back, his cock. He feels them on him as he packs towels into the warmer, as he takes two face masks from the cupboard, as he runs the hand towel through his hair to mop up the extra droplets clinging to the ends. You stare unabashedly as he approaches the tub, your gaze caught on the way his hard dick bobs in the steamy air. 

He’ll admit it, he struts a bit for you. 

As always, he climbs into the bath first, exhaling a low sigh at the feeling of the hot water enveloping him. You typically sit in his lap facing away from him, but this time, you climb in and straddle him, the tub just wide enough for your knees to fit on either side of his body. 

He raises an eyebrow, his hands gripping your hips and his cock poking up out of the water between you. 

“I wanna sit on it,” you admit, looking between his face and his dick hopefully. You don’t explain further but he doesn’t need you to, nods down at his cock and watches as you take hold of it, line yourself up, and sink down. 

Fighting to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head, he holds in the long, loud swear he wants to let out. You’re as hot as the bath but infinitely better, the clutch of your cunt mesmerizing to him as always. 

He hands you a washcloth and opens up the first face mask packet, handing it over to you and taking the cloth to put to the side. He opens up his own packet and retrieves the mask with clumsy fingers, the slippery sheet dripping onto his hands before he can unravel it. 

“Fuck, I forgot my headband,” he groans, letting his head tip back and glowering at the fuzzy ears on the vanity. 

“Just push your hair back,” you say, stretching the mask over your face and smoothing the edges out. 

“But my hands are all-” 

You pointedly dunk your hands in the bath to rinse them off and grin back at him when he smiles sheepishly before raking your fingers through his hair and pushing it up and off of his forehead for him. You take the mask next, tugging it apart and carefully laying it on his face, using your fingertips to press down the edges. 

Your cunt flutters around him as you move, clenching when you lean forward to kiss him and squeezing down even harder when he takes you by the hips with firm hands. He’s about to lift you when you press a palm to his chest and ask, “Can we just stay like this? Until the mask comes off.”

“Yeah, baby, of course,” he breathes, smooching your towel clad head and settling deeper into the water. You melt into his chest, the chill of your sheet mask on his pec making it jump beneath your cheek, and he wraps his arms around you both to hold you close and to keep your back warm. 

Your body goes lax against his, your breathing evening out, and he grins to himself before joining you in slumber, so fond of you he could die.

Mingi wakes to cool water, a dry face mask, and a pleasure so sharp, it burns. 

He’s not ready to open his eyes yet but to know you’re still there, he doesn’t need to. There’s a soothing weight holding him down, and a velvet heat surrounding him, and he just might feel more content than he ever has before. 

Maybe also more needy than he ever has before. 

He can’t stop his hips from thrusting in little motions, can’t stop grinding into you, trying to get deeper even though he’s already met the end of you. You’re moving too, rolling into his thrusts and pulsing around his cock, and when he finally opens his eyes, he looks down to find yours still shut.

“Baby,” he whispers softly, rubbing your back with gentle hands in an effort to wake you. “It’s time to take off the masks.”

You hum and, not ready to rise yet, attempt to burrow further into his arms, making him chuckle and pinch your cheek.

“Ow,” you peel yourself off his chest to cross your arms and pout at him, your face mask adorably skewed and your tits pushed together. He just smiles sleepily at you and reaches up to fully remove the mask, his first and then yours, before balling them up and throwing them into the trash basket. 

“So… the masks have come off,” he leads hopefully, gripping your hips and digging his fingers into the supple flesh. 

“Indeed they have,” you nod your head serenely and blink at him, one, two, three times. 

Fuck, you must have forgotten what you said. But Mingi doesn’t want to push you into anything, especially if you’re tired (and you seem like it), so he just nods back and starts lifting you off his cock. Your eyes grow wide and your nails dig into his abs, your pussy clenching so hard around him, he almost can’t move you. 

“What are you doing?” You gasp, obviously alarmed and perhaps even displeased. 

“Well, we’re getting out of the bath, aren’t we? It’s cold,” he doesn’t really understand your confusion, but he stops moving in the meantime, not wanting your bottom lip to tremble any more than it already is. 

“Oh. Yeah, I suppose we should,” you agree in disappointment, looking away from him as if that could hide your feelings. 

“Baby, what do you wanna do?” He asks, leaning over to catch your eye and bringing a soaking wet, chilly hand up to cup the back of your neck and squeeze reassuringly. 

You take a few seconds to think it over and he waits patiently, letting his eyes trace over every square inch of your face. He’s already got you committed to memory but there’s nothing wrong with a little reinforcement. 

“I want to cuddle,” you sigh and draw circles on his pecs. “But I want you to fuck me too.”

“Baby, that’s a thing,” he rushes to tell you. “We could totally do that.”

“Really? I’m not being too needy?” Your voice sounds small and you won’t look him in the eye again, and Mingi shakes his head with fondness. 

“You could never be too needy. Well, you could, but I’ll never not like it. I promise,” he brings his pinky up, hooking it with yours and pressing your thumbs together to seal the vow. “You know this means I have to pull out, right?” 

Your face scrunches in displeasure but you relax your inner muscles and allow him to lift you up and off of his cock. You’re both quick to get out after, Mingi going to the warmer to grab your towels and you carrying out your skincare routine. When you’re done, he wraps you up in the plush, heated fabric and hefts you into his arms, bridal style, to carry you to bed. 

You squeal weakly and throw your arms around his neck, holding on tight like you think he’ll drop you as he crosses into the bedroom. He lays you out on the bed with care, his biceps and abs straining as he lowers you down slowly. He could drop you to be funny, but you seem a bit delicate tonight and it makes him want to take care of you, to coddle you, to baby you. 

You cling to him when he tries to pull away, and he whispers, “Just getting some pajamas, baby,” squeezing your wrist when you’re still reluctant to release him. 

“Okay, we’ll sleep naked, I guess,” he laughs quietly into your hair and climbs on top of you, pushing your legs together and twisting them to the side so he can line himself up. 

“I just want you close,” you breathe as he sinks inside, smiling when he braces his arms on either side of your head and boxes you in.

“This close enough?” He asks, rooting his dick deep inside of you and pressing his chest to yours. 

“Nope,” you grin affectionately, clenching around him just because you can. The sensation of your walls gripping him sends a shiver down his spine, makes his dick twitch and leak inside of you. He’s so sensitive after two hours of being in your perfect little pussy, two hours of not cumming, two hours of not moving at all. 

That doesn’t stop him from drawing his hips back and slowly rolling them forward, filling you with his thick, hard cock and exhaling a ragged groan when he bottoms out again. You feel even hotter now that he’s not in the bath, wetter too, and it’s enough to drag him right up to the edge. 

But he hasn’t made you cum yet, and he refuses to let it be an afterthought. He can’t really get at your clit with your legs together like this though, so he pulls away just enough to take hold of one and wrap it around his waist.

You’re opened up for him now, his hand fitting perfectly in the space between your thighs and his fingers finding that bundle of nerves with ease. Nearly his whole body is pressed to yours and he loves it, loves being this close to you, so close it’s almost like you’re one person instead of two. 

Like this, he can see every expression that crosses your face, hear every sound that leaves your lips, feel every burst of pleasure like it’s his own, so he knows exactly when you start to climb that hill. His touch becomes more purposeful, more insistent, as you clench and squeeze around him, your cunt clamping down when he pulls out and fluttering wildly when he slides back in. 

It’s a slick, hot push and pull, a dance he only ever wants to do with you, because only with you will it be laced with love and desire and passion and devotion. Only with you will it feel this good, this pure, this right. 

Mingi feels like this is what he’s supposed to be doing. When he’s at work or the grocery store or the gym, he’s really supposed to be buried in you, connected with you, loving you. He’s built a home with you and found one inside of you, and if life was kind and sweet like you are, he wouldn’t ever have to leave. 

“Fuck, love you so fucking much, baby,” he forces out through gritted teeth, pressing his forehead to yours and sharing your oxygen. 

“I love you, Mingi,” you whimper, your lips moving against his with how close he is to you. 

Your nails dig into his neck as he hooks his hips up on a thrust inside, dragging the head of his cock over your g-spot. He hopes you leave marks, hopes you scratch him up so he can carry you with him every day this coming week, make every movement a reminder of how fucking good he makes you feel. 

One of his circles catches the side of your clit and you cry out sharply, your cunt squeezing his cock and your leg tightening around his waist. “Like that?” He shifts his touch, trying to replicate the motion that made you shout for him. 

It takes a second for him to find the right angle and pressure, but it’s obvious when he does. Your head pushes back into the pillow, arousal seeps out of you to coat his balls, and you get so fucking tight, it almost hurts. 

He relishes the ache, luxuriates in it, because he knows it means you’re right on the edge, primed to tumble off and take him with you. 

All it takes is a little extra pressure and an urgently whispered, “Fuck, cum for me, please baby, please.”

Your face crumples in pleasure and your pussy locks down around him as you shatter, your breathy moans and weak calls of his name like music in his ears. It’s blinding, almost, the sheer bliss that overtakes him when he starts to fill you up, white hot cum shooting out of his throbbing cock to paint your plush walls. 

His head spins for what could be minutes or hours, his dick slowly softening within you as you both try to find your way back to this plane of existence. He blinks drowsily, his eyelids heavy and his body feeling even heavier, and finds the strength to roll to the side, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you with him. 

With closed eyes, he leans in and tries to kiss your forehead, only for his lips to graze microfiber instead. 

“Baby, don’t forget about your hair,” he breathes quietly, patting your towel-clad head. 

“Fuck, my fucking hair,” you whine, your voice full of regret and despair. 

You already put in all your products, but you still have to take it out of the towel and either blow dry or braid it, and Mingi knows you don’t feel like doing either. 

“I’ll do it for you,” he offers sincerely, hoping you’ll be okay with just the braiding option. Your hair has been in the towel for almost two hours now, so it shouldn’t be too wet still. 

“Really?” You look at him with big, teary eyes, your voice tender and your hand gentle where it cups his cheek. 

“Of course, baby,” he smiles softly, lifting your leg off his waist and pulling out of you with a slippery pop. You’re still laying on the towel and he picks up one corner, dabbing gently at the cum dripping out of you before climbing off the bed and lumbering to the bathroom to retrieve your comb and a scrunchie. 

While parsing through the drawer for a hair tie, Mingi glances up at the mirror and can’t help but beam at what he finds. His cheeks are flushed, his face dewy and glowing, and his hair is an absolute disaster. He’s naked as the day he was born and his cock is still covered in cum, which he quickly rinses off before twisting to get a look at his back. 

There are scratch marks, and his smile just grows wider when the torn skin smarts at being stretched. These will linger for days, he thinks with glee, bouncing on his toes when he sets eyes on a scrunchie. 

He speeds back to the bedroom, finding you sitting up with the towel undone, your head hung low and your hands braced next to your thighs. 

“Baby?” Mingi murmurs, crouching next to you and peering up through your hair to find your eyes closed.

“‘m awake,” you slur quietly, making him jump and nearly fall flat on his ass.

He breathes out a sigh of relief and takes his place behind you, combing through your hair and braiding it with efficiency, his fingers practiced after many trials (and many errors). 

“Thank you, Mingi,” you sigh sluggishly as he wraps his hand around your throat and pulls you back into his chest. He presses a kiss to the side of your head before whispering, “Anytime, baby,” and shifting to lay down, his head on the pillow and yours on his outstretched arm. 

You’re so close, he can feel every breath exhaled into his chest, feel your heart beating against his, feel your body heat melding with his own, as his thoughts grow syrupy and his body grows heavy. 

Mingi wouldn’t have it any other way. 

AN: yay! thanks for sticking with me through another series, i hope you had a good time 💖

Seven Masterlist

My Masterlist

The Way to His Heart [8]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9

"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.

Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."

Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"

"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.

He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.

Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.

The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."

Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.

"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."

Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."

"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."

Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"

Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.

"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."

Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.

The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.

In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"

Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.

As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.

But you weren't entirely alone, of course.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.

"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.

You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.

With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."

Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.

Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."

Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."

Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."

As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."

"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.

Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."

Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."

You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"

This time, you nodded with a wide smile.

"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."

Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.

With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."

He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."

Mission accomplished.

Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."

As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."

"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."

His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.

"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.

Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."

Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.

Yes, he's here with you now.

Nothing bad will happen.

His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."

The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"

Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.

The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"

"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.

You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.

Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.

Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."

The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."

"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."

"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.

Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"

Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"

The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.

"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.

All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.

Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.

Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.

But what if there was still hope for them?

What if they had a chance?

After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.

You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."

That should be me!

The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?

In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."

Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"

"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.

Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."

Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.

Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.

Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.

Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.

Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?

"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.

Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."

"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.

Your real home, not this nightmare.

« Preview of Part 9 »

As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.

"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.

You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.

If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?

Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."

Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.

"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."

Oh, crap.

Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈

Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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i need this irl so bad-

a relationship with yeosang would be so precious like i literally cant stop thinking about it

not even anything specific. just him, sending you pictures when he’s bored, just because he finds it funny when you fawn over him via text. he insists that you send one back just so he can give you the same treatment.

and him manhandling you in the gentlest of ways. dragging you onto his lap during movie night and positioning you so that you can both be comfy, just because he’s cold and he needs your body warmth to heath him up. you’re like his own personal heater and you love it.

dancing with you in the kitchen as the moonlight shines through the window. it’s the early hours of the morning, and you both really should be in bed but you can’t help but be captivated by the way the silver light glimmers in his eyes. you’re too captivated by his beauty to sleep. you don’t want to close your eyes for even a second.

lying in bed together on a summers afternoon, the hazy rays of sun shining through the window and heating your bodies up as you allow your limbs to tangle with his. it’s too hot to cuddle, but you can’t seem to let him go. your sweaty forms just hold one another tightly as you dip in and out of sleep.

buying silly gifts for one another, just because they remind you of the other person. he buys you a scraggly rat teddy, and you buy him the wonkiest, most wrong looking dog teddy you can find. it’s not really a compliment to either of you, but the rat takes pride of place in your bed either way. he cuddles the dog whenever you’re not there, but he’s never tell you that.

domestic evenings where you share the bath. you wash his hair first, and whilst the conditioner is sitting, he washes yours. his fingers are gentle and precise as they massage your scalp. on more than one occasion you’ve fallen asleep against his bare chest mid shampoo…

nightmare filled nights that yeosang sleeps through, yet still manages to provide you comfort with his arms that are wrapped to tightly, so safely around your waist. he hums in his sleep as you huddle closer, silently begging for him to shield you from the demons that plague your sleep. his heartbeat calms you down and sends you into a silent, dreamless sleep.

in other words i’m soppy and lonely so i’m thinking about sangie WAYYY too in depth

choi jongho boyfriend texts (pt 2)

choi jongho is literally the loml… i cannot stop thinking about how cute he’d be as a boyfriend. clearly i am mentally unwell…

oh we’re fucked LMAOOOOOOOO (locking all doors and windows as we speak)

SAN GET OUT LOCK HIS INTERNET SOMEONE HACK HIS ASS AND BLOCK TUMBLR FROM HIM!!

IM KEEPING YALL SAFE WITH ME!!!!

I've been gone for quite some time but hey atleast I finished these weirdos

And my OC's too bcs I said so