a space to daydream about pretty boys

You trudge through the knee-high grass that strokes your legs until you find what you’re looking for—the crescent-moon-shaped patch of grass that is a rare blue and white, a complete contrast to the forest green surrounding you. It’s said that the Egyptian god Jeonghan, also known as Thoth, seared the grass this way specifically, as a gateway to him, for anyone who dared to call out to him. He is the God of wisdom, writing, magic, and the moon. Coming here was no accident or mere coincidence, and the items you brought were specifically for him. Your purpose is to summon him and broker a deal, no matter the price.

Lowering yourself to the ground, you place everything in a circle, complete with a candle that you charged with the previous full moon. You light the stick, watching its flame burn brighter than a regular candle but also unmelting, as if it knows its purpose. You ignore the tension lining your gut, instead pulling out a scroll containing a chant you created. With a deep breath, you say:

On this very night

I call upon thee and his divine light

Shine upon me with your wisdom

Salve Divinus Thoth

You repeat the mantra six times, the lucky number associated with him according to the scribe of the gods and the patron of learning. You wait patiently, expecting lightning to strike or maybe the wind to pick you up and carry you into the sky. But all you hear is the sound of nature, crickets, and the waters of the river crashing into each other. Time passes, and your hope deflates with it as you stand up slowly and dust the dirt off your legs.

“Maybe I missed something,” you mutter to yourself.

“No, you didn’t.”

You yelp and jump back, your foot crushing the corner of the dark chocolate you brought for the offering. You stare at a man, much taller than you, with a carving of an Ibis on his head, dressed in only a short white pleated kilt. He takes a step towards you, and the ground shakes, the recoil making you accidentally fall on your ass. You’ve never seen something so majestic and strange, and it has you shaking in fear.

“I take it you're Jeonghan?” you sputter, your hands shaking. “I brought you an offering as a token of my gratitude.”

“I accept your offerings,” he says shortly. “Why did you summon me?”

Your breath hitches, the words caught in your throat. You’ve been preparing this for several months now, researching it heavily and telling your friends and family that you were going on a trip to ‘heal’ and find yourself again. It wasn’t totally a lie, just an omission of some facts.

“Jeonghan, god of wisdom, writing, magic, and the moon,” you declare, kneeling before him. “I humbly come before you with a request.”

“What is it?” Jeonghan demands, his voice echoing into the night air.

You swallow hard, your voice shaky as you reveal your intent. “I need you to bring my fiancé back from the dead.”

Chris died a year ago today in a car crash as he was heading home to you. You will never forget that day, the hard knock at your door that caught you off guard while you were in your element. You still remember the screams from his mother when you went with her to identify the body. His body lay on the cold, metal stretcher, lifeless and void of the man who gave you joy, the man you were set to have a life with. His mother died not too long after from a heart attack, but you also suspect it was from a broken heart. He was her only child. Not only are you doing this for yourself, but you are doing this for her, to get back the son she lost.

“You want to undo the balance of nature and bring back your loved one?” Jeonghan probes. “Do you understand the consequences you wreak when you bring back the dead?”

You understand the stakes. You’ve been studying them all your life, and you aren’t afraid of the consequences, as long as it brings Chris back into your arms. “I understand,” you breathe.

Jeonghan’s body morphs before you, his height changing drastically to meet your eye level. He slowly removes the Ibis head covering him, revealing a man who is strikingly handsome, with shoulder-length black hair and piercing brown eyes. You’ve seen the hieroglyphics of his true face behind the head, in the shape of a baboon, but it does not do him justice—he’s more beautiful than he’s been pictured or described.

“Very well then,” Jeonghan says, circling around you. “To bring back someone from the dead requires that you serve me for as long as Chris is alive.” Your head shoots up, caught off guard by his name being said out loud. “Don’t be shocked, woman,” Jeonghan says flippantly, tapping his head. “I know all.”

You lick the bottom of your lip, nodding slowly. “How am I to serve?”

“Every full moon phase, you must serve me,” he reveals. “The day before, the day of, and the day after.”

You lock eyes with him, pondering over the information. It costs you almost a quarter of your savings to come here, and you know you can’t afford to do it once a month. Panic weighs heavily in your choice, doubt creeping into the back of your mind. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this.

“I-I don’t think I can afford to come here every month,” you stutter. “It cost me a lot to come here.”

Jeonghan lets out a noise that almost sounds like a snort. “You humans are short-sighted. I will find you, as I am guided by the moonlight.”

You stare at him incredulously, almost not believing what you are seeing and hearing. “Can you tell me what I am going to be doing?”

“Whatever I need you to do,” Jeonghan asserts. “Will that be a problem?”

You weigh the options in your mind heavily. You get the love of your life back, and your nights will not be so cold. You feel warmth, love, and peace again. You will have your savior, your protector, your Chris back. Whatever you need to do to serve this god, you are willing to do.

“No.” You bow your head. “I am willing to serve.”

“Very well then.”

You glance slowly at him as he flicks his wrist, bringing on a white, blinding flash that swallows everything around you. It doesn’t hurt, but you feel like you’re falling with nothing to reach out to. The muscles relax in your body; your vision is the last to go as everything turns black, then dark navy blue. You rise slowly in a haze, your eyes adjusting to the low light and thickness of cloth clutched in your hands. You’re back in your house, with your luggage and belongings you brought with you to Africa placed next to your bed. Your head fogs over, as if you've just had a dream, but you know it’s not that. It’s clear Jeonghan sent you back home. You don’t know what to expect—should you wait for further instruction? Do you go digging out Chris’s grave—

“Dove?”

Your head jerks to the door, a chill settling in your bones. That nickname, Dove, was given to you by Chris because he said you were gentle and brought him peace. That voice that called your name feels familiar; that tremor in his voice is so distinctive that you hear it in your dreams when you are missing him. Creeping out of bed, you open your bedroom door, stalking down the hallway of your small two-bedroom house. A shadow is cast from the front door, matching a man with a large frame, dressed in a brown jacket and jeans, an outfit identical to Chris’s the day he… the day he di—

“Dove? Is that you?”

The man steps closer to you, the light of the stove casting over him, revealing the face of the man you’ve loved for five years, his eyes dark and pleading, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Baby, is that really you?”

You close the space between you two, hugging him tightly and breaking out into a sob. All the grief, the pain you suffered for the year, yearning for his touch and feeling empty inside, comes rushing out of you. Your chest is heavy as you cry happy tears, peppering him with long-overdue kisses all over his face. “It worked!” you exclaim. “It worked. Oh my Thoth!”

“What do you mean?” Chris interrogates. “What did you do?”

You leave a lasting kiss on his lips, heartfelt with every emotion you have, to show him that you love him and that you are grateful to have him back. His hands grab your waist, and your legs almost buckle instantly. It feels good to be in his arms again.

“We have a lot to talk about,” you breathe, placing your forehead on his. “But I will never let you go again.”

As you turned your head to look anywhere that wasn't the relentlessly revolving fan, a dark shag of hair materialised next to you, a bundle of tanned limbs sleeping peacefully away from you.

The vision of toned biceps let your memories fuse together instantaneously — back arched impossibly as Mingyu pounded into you persistently, strong arms holding you against his chest as he refused to falter his pace, orgasms so blissful you dared to stay the night.

Jesus Christ.

Maybe it was the ecstasy you were sure Jeonghan slid you or the cocaine you'd snorted through giggles with Chan, or maybe even the bitter beer you'd shotgunned with Jun — the sticky substance coating your bikini top and making your chest glisten in the strobe lights.

Selfishly, you raked your eyes down Mingyu's god-like body; his back muscles practically pulsed even as he lay slack, small, level breaths escaping his parted lips. Then, you silently slipped out of his bed, using your perfected feather-like footsteps to gather your various discarded articles of clothing and slide them onto your body — a skimpy bikini top that reeked of alcohol and a pair of striped booty shorts that Mingyu had almost ripped off your body. As you squinted into the mess, your pretty lace panties were nowhere to be seen.

Fuck the underwear; they were concealed by heaps of clothes and blankets, and you needed to get out of the house urgently, before the impending comedown punctured your consciousness and rendered you a zombie for a few hours.

Without a peep, you crept out of his bedroom, silently clicking the lock as you bee-lined for the front door, wherever it was.

Throughout the three years that you'd lived in Los Angeles, you never seemed to get the hang of coordinating your way out of a house the morning after. Hallways that were packed with people abandoned in the early light, solo cups and toilet rolls stuck to tacky floorboards, silence echoing louder than any music had played the night before.

But, as your head began to pound, the adrenaline of the drugs slipping from you selfishly, you just picked a direction and followed it. Luckily, the quiet hum of a voice grew louder as you followed dirt-stained walls, mysterious patches of liquid and clusters of discarded trash.

Like the gates to heaven, the front door appeared as you turned a corner, and a sigh of relief almost slipped out of your mouth instinctively. However, as the room opened up, a lounge-style seating area came into view; a figure sat with one leg resting over the other, both legs bobbing incessantly as the man leaned with a slackened head against the back pillows of the settee.

You could recognise that mop anywhere. Vernon Chwe, the Los Angeles underground scene's most renowned producer — and fuck, as you'd been told. The man was a living legend among female party-goers; famously tough to get in bed, but if he decided you were worthy of him, he quite literally rocked your world.

And sure, you'd love for your world to be rocked. But you'd dipped into a lot of LA producers and were satisfied enough. The last in a long line, Mingyu, was sensational enough to warrant a sleepover — a rare luxury few men got from you, so you were alright with never experiencing the five-star fuck that was Vernon.

Plus, every time you saw him, he'd dismissed your presence without a moment of hesitation. Either walking away from you mid-conversation or ignoring any input you contributed. You never knew if it was deliberate, but it definitely felt like it was.

On the sofa, his jaw was tensed as he held his phone to his ear, slender fingers gripping slightly too hard as the distant babble of a voice played into his ear. When you took your leave, his gaze drifted from the chandelier to your scantily-clad body, watching with the same deadpan expression for a second before returning his bored look to the ceiling.

To him, you were probably another underground groupie, fucking his friends and drinking his alcohol, fading from his conscience as soon as you appeared, like smoke from a cigarette; produced to be discarded.

And that's why you took control of every sexual encounter you partook in. Even if you were S.Coups' 'little slut' for one night or Joshua Hong's 'princess' for another — you'd always walk away as soon as it was done, just to ensure they knew you weren't going to be their booth girl to trample all over.

Quite frankly, it worked a treat. You were having brain-altering orgasms multiple nights a week, listening to the best electronic music LA had to offer and then walking away with some of the hottest producers still desperate to feel you wrap around them again.

Letting yourself out, the heavy Los Angeles heat hit you, making bile rise in your throat as you walked away from the mansion, not once glancing back as your heels hit the sidewalk, the humidity bouncing off of the cement below you.

It was another one of those nights, tucked deep in the Hidden Hills, a sprawling bungalow shook with bass as bodies piled into the heap of the house. The art-deco style abode was bound to be a disaster by sunrise, and the front garden was already halfway there — pools of sick in the grass, tipped-over trash cans, couples lustfully making out on the steps.

The sight sent excitement running down your spine.

Pushing through the dark wooden door, you were greeted by the sight of people — a lot of them.

From wall to wall, the space was packed with drunken party-goers, swaying along to the thumping dance music and hollering at each other, voices raised to match the music and alcohol rife in their systems. Cans raised to the ceiling as people got lost in the music, letting their necks hang in time to the beating kick drum.

The lively electronic track was a new tune, and it flowed through you easily; the rumbling bass resonating deeply, making the cocaine you'd snorted suddenly awaken as you allowed your chin to nod timidly along. Keeping your chunky sunglasses over your eyes, you squinted over the sea of bodies to spot who was situated behind the makeshift decks.

Hunched to one side, adorning a black top, was Vernon, his eyes concealed by his shaggy fringe as his head swung nonchalantly from side to side. However, beside him was the8, a close friend of many of the guys you'd slept with — if you were honest, the8, or Minghao, was absolutely enticing, and his shaggy blonde mullet was practically sending heat between your thighs already.

'Ah! Hey you!' The loud and booming voice belonging to Mingyu sounded, and you turned your head to where the built man materialised through the crowd, slinging a strong arm around your shoulders.

'Hey Gyu!' You replied, letting the taller man hug you sweetly. As much as Mingyu was oblivious, he knew you were just a one-time fuck, and graciously he accepted it, even though at every party since you'd slipped out of his bed at 8 am he'd drunkenly tell you he'd do anything to do it again.

There was a part of you deep down that felt bad for him, but alas, you maintained a healthy friendship with him and allowed him to guide you behind the decks at every single party. It was sort of a ritual at this point; you'd end up like a booth girl — but instead of splaying yourself for attention, you just let them silently approach you.

So without further ado, Mingyu's strong arm and elevated presence parted a path through the crowd, and you were situated with a perfect view of Minghao's tattooed muscles, not batting an eye at the nonchalant man beside him.

With flirtatious giggles and batted eyelashes, you had managed to enamour Minghao into holding your waist weakly as he spoke to someone beside him. The time had passed dangerously slowly as you waited for him to take you home, twirling your hair between your fingers as your gaze floated across the intoxicated bodies dancing along to the next DJ.

'Going to the toilet, I'll be back.' You leaned over and whispered with a flirtatious bite, and Minghao turned to you, smoothing his hands down your dress and cupping your ass.

'Ok, let's go to mine when you're back.'

Finally.

Slipping away, you were subjected to the crowd of unruly party-goers — multiple of them stumbling and shoving into you as you bee-lined for what looked like a hallway. After what felt like a torturous hike instead of a brisk walk through a party, you emerged in a quieter hallway, a pissed-off scowl dominating your face as you leaned against the wall.

The dim lighting masked the faces of the bodies that floated around the narrow space, and you tapped your foot impatiently as you waited for the bathroom door to swing open.

As you reclined against the wall, a figure appeared in your peripheral vision, and you snapped your head forwards to distinguish who had halted only a few centimetres from your face.

Unmoving, stoic eyes bored into yours as you were greeted by Vernon, his movement paused with certainty as he sized you up, and under his gaze you felt like prey, cornered by a ruthless predator.

'What do you want?' You asked, a grimace twisting your expression as you looked up at him.

'What do you think?' He replied with a deadpan voice, holding an almost identical look of disgust when his eyes trailed down your body and he signalled to the bathroom.

'Whatever.' You muttered, looking up at Vernon with sharp eyes. This was the closest you'd ever been to him, and you could finally see his dark chocolate eyes clearly. There was no trace of emotion adorning his orbs, not even recognition, so when he spoke to you, it came as a shock.

Vernon was ridiculously handsome, his bushy pointed eyebrows making his eyes look like they were narrowed — like he was permanently judging whatever was in front of him. His jaw was tightly clenched in this moment, like just looking at you pissed him off.

And there was no way on planet earth you were letting the effect of his heavy gaze show on your features, so you met his stabbing eye line as it stared into you.

'Don't you get bored of being everyone's booth girl?' He asked easily, like the words weren't practically spoken to grate against you.

'Don't you get bored of being fucking miserable all the time?' You hung your head to one side, letting venom seethe in every word.

For a few moments, he doesn't break your eye contact, as if his gaze could hurt you.

'Would hate for you to forget your panties at my house again.' There was a hint of a satisfied look that surfaced on his face momentarily before it was swallowed into his nonchalant facade.

Oh, this fucking cunt.

'You'd love it if I left my panties in your room, Chwe. Don't act all high and fucking mighty.'

To your retort, his head snapped away, his jaw sharpened as he gritted his teeth. A sweet smile danced on your face, victory tasting a little too good as you slipped away from him, unable to bear his presence any longer.

'Bye Vernon! I'm off to leave my panties in Minghao's room tonight!' But before you could throw a mocking wave over your shoulder, a strong hand pinned you against the wall, chapped lips meeting yours in a greedy kiss.

Without hesitation, you let your eyes flutter closed as the feeling of Vernon's lips pressed against yours sent jolts of electricity sprinting down your spine — Vernon. Chwe Vernon. King of the Los Angeles underground scene and god of nonchalance had you pinned messily against a wall in the midst of a bustling party.

Well shit.

Vernon tasted like mint and the best parts of a shot of vodka — there was an intoxicating way his lips caught yours, his teeth biting at your bottom lip and dragging it with head-spinning intensity.

As your hand found the fluffy nape of his neck, it tugged harshly, your tongues practically fighting for dominance amongst one another as he pressed himself against you. There was a sense of desperation that bled through you both, the kiss not loving at all — it was a mess of selfish lust, insistent dominance and pure, undiluted hatred.

'I fucking hate you.' You spoke through heavy breaths as his lips began to trail downwards, biting and nipping roughly at every spot he could find, and it had you in a fit of indiscreet moans.

A dry laugh sounded against your jaw, and he continued, not sparing the words to respond.

The bathroom door swung open, a drunken man stumbling out, and Vernon had you through the doorway with lightning-fast agility — pressing you against the hollow wood expertly, his mouth reattaching to the crook of your neck, sucking cruelly and biting at you like you were just something to put in his mouth.

Like your worth was equivalent to the piece of mint gum pressed between his teeth.

His strong hands had your hips held tightly as he pressed them against the door, unallowing of any movement. Even as you squirmed when he hit that sweet spot behind your ear, his iron grip kept you as still as he wanted you to be — loud and breathy moans leaving your lips as his became unrelenting.

'Listen to you.' He breathed, still working at that spot. 'Such a fucking slut.'

The words went straight to your core, butterflies fluttering at a fierce intensity within you, sending wetness sopping out of your neglected heat. Reluctantly leaving your hip, Vernon let his hand grip your boob roughly, a small sigh leaving his lips as he let his assault trail along your chest.

It was mind-boggling, the hate pumping through you that was being viciously subdued by how good Vernon was making you feel. It was like all that hate fuelled something different this time — something that was making his length harden in his jeans.

'You're a slut, aren't you?' He questioned as he pulled the tight fabric of your dress to scoop below your breasts, forcing them to bulge out in an almost pornographic fashion. As he pinched your nipple, his tongue licked ruthlessly at the other, and you were rendered absolutely wordless. The overwhelming sensation of your body being stimulated so expertly let only deep breaths and heinous sounds fall out of your mouth.

Then he seized. The euphoric movement halted savagely as he held your jaw firmly, forcing you to meet his harsh gaze. It was enticing how his dilated pupils were so darkened, lust ruling every second of your encounter. 'Answer me.'

'Yes, Vernon.' You spat out, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath.

Before he continued, he rejoined your lips — and for a few seconds it's not full of hatred, and there's no point desperately trying to be proven, no tugging on either of your bodies; he's just got his arms wrapped around your waist, lips pressed deliciously against yours as he walked you away from the shut door.

However, the shock of the cool tile adorning the sinks met the back of your thighs, and the warmth dissipated; Vernon's hands roughly spinning you to be bent over the cold porcelain sink.

The mirror revealed a vision of indecency; Vernon had left an array of dark splotches along your neck, purple blossoming against your skin, your hair messily falling down one shoulder, your breasts practically squeezed together. And like a shadow behind you, his brown hair concealed his features as his hand smoothed along you.

'Look at you,' He met your gaze, his eyes half-closed in a sultry look as he inspected his work. He pressed himself against you, letting the hardness of his clothed erection push against your ass, and the feeling made you impossibly wetter. 'Such a pretty whore.'

'About time I see for myself what all the boys were raving about.' He spoke as he roughly shoved the silk of your dress upwards, exposing your ass and thighs, the tiny lace panties doing a shockingly bad job at concealing the arousal dripping down you.

A strangled groan left his throat as he took in the sight of your uncovered body, making his hardness throb with need. Using one hand to roughly squeeze the flesh of your ass, he unbuckled his belt and tugged his jeans and underwear down to his thighs in one smooth movement.

Vernon's hardened member slapped against you, and you held your breath in anticipation, your hips involuntarily bucking to gain any type of friction — you didn't care at this point; it didn't matter that this was the man who never spared you a glance, or who famously discarded his hook-ups like an old toy. All that mattered was how hard he was going to fuck you.

'So desperate, huh?' A small grin quirked on his lips, and it was a pure expression of cockiness, selfish pride on his features as you pushed yourself towards him, his slender fingers slowly making their way through your folds.

It's almost blissful, how he touched you enough to have your head hanging back onto his shoulder but not enough to have you clenching around nothing. If you weren't so distracted by the overwhelming feeling of his digits flicking your clit, you'd pay attention to how his head was nuzzled against yours, peppering light, almost intimate, kisses along the side of your head.

But before you had time to realise his slip-up, his almost stupid exposee on himself, he was roughly pushing you against the counter, your breasts pooling against the tile as he gripped your hip.

'Don't you get enough attention, whore?' He spat almost maliciously as he bullied his way into you, the gushing wetness making him slip in like it was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He was big. Not the type of big that is a discarded comment; his length had brutally scratched your cervix in the first thrust and ignited a bittersweet stinging sensation as he stretched you. The feeling made a gaudy moan force its way out of your mouth, your eyes screwed tightly shut in absolute pleasure.

Without a moment to spare, he pistoned into you with an unrelenting pace, his member hitting every single inch of you, the feeling beyond anything you'd felt before. It was enticing, the way he hit parts of you that you didn't even know existed, not alleviating his speed for even a second.

As you forced your eyes open, the sight of Vernon made you clench around him. His face was flushed, cheeks pinkened as his lips were caught between his teeth — there was a lusty glaze adorning his eyes as he watched your ass giggle with each thrust.

'Fuck,' He groaned, his grip hard enough to leave bruises against the skin of your hips; wet sounds echoed through the bathroom as he fucked you ruthlessly, wetness practically gushing out of you with each tenacious thrust.

As his eyes met yours, he released one side of your hip, gathering your hair into a mass before pulling you roughly against his chest.

'Look at yourself slut.' He said, your tits bouncing rhythmically as he continued to fuck you. It was degrading and frankly embarrassing to be in this position, the party thumping behind the bathroom door — and it's even more humiliating that Vernon has you like this, a gushing mess in a filthy LA party bathroom.

The sight is enough to make the approaching release come hurtling at you faster, 'Vernon, I'm going to cum.'

Your words only made him speed up impossibly faster. It was incomprehensible how he could thrust into you at such a heinous speed, and your body felt like it was running at a near-boiling point.

With a cocky smirk, he released your hair to grip your neck instead, the pressure overwhelming as you let your head slacken onto his shoulder.

'Good girl, cum for me.' He whispered into your ear, letting his hot breath tickle it, and rapidly your vision was turning white as stars exploded within you, the insistent banging of his tip against your cervix jolting euphoric pleasure through you as you cum around his cock, clenching uncontrollably as he continued.

'Such a good slut.' He said, and you whimpered, the feeling of him inside you, chasing his own high, so overwhelming all you could do was lean with jelly limbs into him.

'Just going to keep using you until I cum.' He said through gritted teeth, hand still securely around your neck to keep you right where he wanted you. It was like you were a rag doll, almost limp for him to finish himself off on.

Ludicrous moans tumbled out as every inch of you felt overstimulated. Beside you, small groans slipped from Vernon's mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut, his pace brutal inside you.

'Fuck, you're so hot.' He admitted, and if you weren't at his mercy, you may've smirked cockily. But you were still at his disposal, your hole a toy for him to get off in. As you gasped, his hips slapping yours cruelly, his moans intensified, and he pushed you down again, hot skin hitting the cold tile as his orgasm descended upon him.

The pace faltered, and throaty moans escaping him as you felt him twitch inside you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and slow as he painted your insides with his load. As he stilled inside you, you finally let your breath begin to catch up with you, feeling aware of your skin gleaming with sweat and hair in tangled masses

Leisurely, he pulled out, eyes trained to the mixture of release coating your folds.

The air suddenly felt tense, as if you both realised who you'd just fucked and how good it was. In a calm scurry, you pushed yourself forward, pulling your dress to conceal your exposed body and combing your hair through with your fingers.

Behind you, Vernon was tugging his underwear onto his hips, the matching sheen making his pale complexion glow.

'Where the fuck is my underwear?' You questioned, wondering if the mind-blowing orgasm had rendered your brain useless as you scrambled to cover your leaking vagina. With squinted eyes, you turned to Vernon, who had finished buckling his belt and now had your soaked panties hanging off of his pointer finger.

'Don't be a dick.' You reached to grab the lacy material from him, and he roughly shoved them into his back pocket.

'You can get these from my room next time.'

Familiar faces from all the paths your life had taken looked back, real and genuine smiles beaming towards you, chins held high in appreciation.

At the other end of the grassy aisle, the figure of a suit clad man snapped his head up, his body overwhelmed with adoration as he watched you walk slowly.

With each step, your heart became fuller and fuller, your shy smile evolving into a wide grin as you finally let your eyes meet those soft chocolate orbs that never quite left your mind. Those eyes you see in your dreams and in almost every picture you take, those warm coffee-brown eyes that beheld you like you were an angel on earth, descending upon them like a blessing. 

If there wasn’t a delicately designed bouquet between your hands, you may’ve covered the flush that was intruding on your cheeks from his adoring gaze. But alas, you reveal the effect Wonwoo has on you to your friends, your family and even the perpetrator, your fiancée, about to be husband.

As the pace slowed and you neared the altar, you felt tears begin to well up in your own eyes, the sight of your beautiful fiancée smiling so tenderly plucking your heartstrings like a harp. However, before he can reach out to take his big hand in your smaller one, you notice the small brown stool sat politely in the middle, wonwoo’s vintage film camera patiently waiting on the surface. 

It all started the day that you met, seven years ago, on a snowy university quadrangle. The weather had gotten unforgivingly bitter in a matter of days, and it had most students grunting and groaning at the biting, icy wind — Including Wonwoo, who swore the cloudy sky would singlehandedly fail his photography assignment for him. 

The once vivid green of the colossal oak trees was dimmed under grey skies, the camera capturing sullen shadows and blurry undertones instead of the striking light beams and glowing leaves. Wonwoo let his arms slack beside him as he looked up at the colourless clouds, irritation stiffening him grossly. 

As if things couldn’t worsen, tiny specks of white began to tumble lightly from above, settling graciously between his feet. Great, now it’s snowing.

A loud and excitement-fuelled squeal pulled Wonwoo from his self-induced strop and forced him to snap his head to the source of the heinous invasion of noise in his ears. Between two of the ancient oaks, you were jumping with an untameable smile on your face, eyes glowing in delight as you flapped your arms gleefully in the snow. 

Wonwoo froze, mouth slacking as he watched you — like a vision of pure euphoria, you squealed in the snow like it was the most mind-blowing thing to ever occur. And for some reason, he was enticed, heart pounding as he watched you closely. Like perfect wingmen, his feet led him to you, stopping a few feet away as you held your arm above your head, letting the cool snowflakes land on your palm. 

‘Hi.’ Wonwoo said, mentally cringing at his lax greeting. 

‘Oh, hey!’ You turned your head to face him briefly, unable to keep his eye contact as the flourishes of snow wisped past. ‘Isn’t this amazing!’ 

Wonwoo laughed lightly, his heart screeching within him as he continued to watch your fascination. 

‘Do you think I can take a photo of you?’ He asks gingerly, worry consuming him. ‘Sorry, if that seems creepy, I study here, and I’m trying to complete a project about natural-occurring beauty.’ 

Maybe you were playing dumb, but you let him believe you thought he was talking about the snow.

‘Sure.’ You agree, ‘on one condition.’ 

Wonwoo furrowed his brows, letting his camera lower as you look at him closely. ‘Okay.’ 

‘If you let me take a picture of you too.’ 

Those first two photos developed in time for your first date. Two snowy pictures of wide smiles and anticipation — anticipation for something unknown, something unawaited and new, something that would unknowingly change both of your lives. 

It was an icy evening in late November when Wonwoo showed up at your door with hand-wrapped flowers, offering you his arm to take you out on a first date. Between his hands were a bunch of gorgeous lilies, close to blooming, wrapped carefully in newspaper — which were delicately placed in a vase before he whisked you off to dinner. 

Somehow, he’d located the most perfect and intimate restaurant within walking distance of your dorm. The abode was decorated in dark colours and lit dimly to foster closeness between its customers, tiny candlelights flickering on the varnished wooden tables, illuminating faces with golden warmth. 

Wonwoo did everything right — took your coat, pulled out your chair, called you beautiful, tucked your hair behind your ear. And your heart felt butterflies were gearing up to flutter it away. 

‘I hate to be cliché.’ He speaks fondly, reaching beneath the table. 

You hung your head in confusion as he manoeuvred himself back up. ‘What are you talking about, Wonwoo?’ You say with a questioning smile. 

‘Can I take a photo of you?’ 

He materialises the same camera that captured your blissful snowy moment and places it on the table between you. 

‘Well…’ You pretend to think, tapping your chin for exaggeration, Wonwoo’s soft laugh ringing from opposite you. ‘On one condition.’ 

‘Oh really?’ He plays into the bit, a smile bit into his cheeks as he pretends. Inside, his heart is practically singing, the sight of your eyes glowing under candlelight enough to almost render him speechless. 

‘If you let me take a photo of you too.’ 

The second couple of pictures developed in time for Wonwoo to tack them to his wall. The photos under subdued light radiated warmth, from the shy smiles dancing on both of your faces to the subtle knowing looks you both possessed — this was meant to be. 

On a grassy spring plain, Wonwoo presented a spread of your favourite foods, a soft plush blanket beneath your legs as you sat peacefully, letting the breeze tickle your cheeks lightly. Wonwoo was beside you, stealing sly glances at your side profile as the early-spring sun made your skin glow. 

‘Hey,’ He said softly, making you turn and hum in response, leaning onto his shoulder on instinct, the closeness familiar over the months of developing feelings. 

‘What’s up?’ You say as he wraps an arm around your waist, resting his head on yours comfortably. Throughout the months of dating, small touches had flowered slowly, shy pinky-holding evolving into strong arms wrapped around one another. 

‘Want to be my girlfriend?’ Wonwoo asked not-so smoothly, letting the biting anxiety slip through his relaxed facade and muddle the beginning of his sentence.

‘Want to be your girlfriend?’You repeat back to him, with a baited smile, turning to look at him. ‘Jeon Wonwoo, you can do better than that.’

‘Do you want to be my girlfriend?’ He rolls his eyes playfully and meets your gaze — your eyes are glistening and as soft as ever, love penetrating as you nod bashfully at him. 

With a light touch, Wonwoo cups your cheek, running the pad of his thumb across your smooth skin as he drinks your pretty face in. Slowly, his plush lips meet yours, electricity jolting through you as they mould together like two pieces of the same heart. Heat rises through your body as he pecks your lips lovingly, continuing to memorise the texture of your skin beneath his fingertips. 

‘Sorry to ruin the moment but,’ Wonwoo speaks, his breath still mingling with yours. ‘Can I take a photo of you?’ 

With a flushed complexion, you lean your forehead on his shoulder in embarrassment. ‘You know my condition, boyfriend.’ 

Over the years, Wonwoo had collected hundreds of these photos. Each in neat pairs, bright expressions of delight dancing on your faces, backgrounds differing from rural beauty to urban simplicity, some taken in extravagant cities across continents and some in your and Wonwoo’s bed, white covers concealing your naked figures. 

The photographs were famous in your close circle, many of the most important people in your lives witnessing the innocent flash of the camera and the small giggle as you passed it between each other.

Photos from family holidays and photos from mundane work-from-home afternoons, photos from the day Wonwoo got down on one knee and photos from dates gone wrong. Every photo holding a precious memory that you both held close to your hearts.

As you behold the film camera between you both, the audience watching knowingly as Wonwoo leans down, just like he did on your first date, to pick it up, a small joyful tear slips down your cheek.

‘You already know what I’m going to ask.’ He says quietly, the rows of friends in front of you silently listening along. 

Without a word you nod, a grateful smile on your features as he lifts his hand you wipe the tear from your cheek. 

‘Can I take a picture of you?’ This time Wonwoo’s eyes are beginning to get glassy, the audience swooning calming as they watched. 

‘Of course you can,’ you answer with a sniffle, ‘on one condition.’ 

He nods, just as he has many times in the past, your hand meeting his on your cheek to intertwine your fingers. 

‘Only, if you let me take a photo of you.’ 

Yeah, so homebodies you had become. 

Really, who would want to leave the house when the human incarnation of a god, Xu Minghao, your soon-to-be husband, led intense and relaxing meditation sessions for you? In your vast garden, greenery swallowing the senses, the small swish of the coi pond pattering softly to one side, your lean fiancée speaking with ultimate rest dripping off of every word. It was like your own personal heaven! 

But alas, work calls — Minghao had been working tirelessly with Vernon for their new subunit. Slipping in the front door early in the morning, cap pulled low as his feet dragged against the polished wooden floors, fatigue radiating off his body when he quietly pulled your body into his and cocooned himself around you. 

This was no new routine; you’d been with Minghao for years, through comebacks, daesangs, scandals, you name it, you stood by his side, a solid and hushed rock. However, there was once upon a time when you and he enjoyed indulging in the bustling Seoul nightlife, awake until all hours of the night and dancing carelessly under strobe lights. It was an era you both look back at with soppy nostalgia. 

The bass vibrated through the darkened club, the sound of a hyperpop song penetrating your flesh and transforming into sweet endorphins, a buzz of adrenaline and raw energy surging through you. Beside you, your best friends Jun and Mingyu nodded nonchalantly along to the beat — sunglasses securely over their eyes, making them resemble a pair of handsome bodyguards rather than two idols on their night off. 

A mix of tequila and soda zipped through your straw as you leaned on the wall between the two, their chatter rapidly adapting to include you. ‘I mean, I never coined them for the clubbing type,’ Jun shrugged, halfway through a conversation with his bandmate, who had his eyes narrowed at his phone in his hand. 

The three of you had perched on a balcony, watching the dance floor swarm with bodies, arms flailing to the music, heads bobbing to the beat. Dark purple and white lights flashed, illuminating the floor in brief intervals, revealing people intertwined with one another, others busy looking at their keys and some drunken party-goers grinding with lustful gazes. 

‘Well, they’re on their way.’ Mingyu shrugged, pulling your gaze away from your inspection of a particularly messy make-out session in the middle of the crowd – gross. 

‘Who is?’ You question, lifting your drink lazily to your lips. 

‘Remember Vernon and Minghao?’ Mingyu questioned, slinging his arm around your shoulders, his beer almost spilling onto your heels with his clumsy movement. 

‘I know the names.’ You reply, nibbling on your straw and eyeing a broad-shouldered man, leant nonchalantly against the bar. 

This was your routine: Jun and Mingyu would drag you to the club. Most of the time, the three of you partied yourselves out together, strolling home in fits of drunken giggles, Mingyu slung between you and Jun like a human piñata — letting his slackened body flop onto your sofa whilst you and Jun top-and-tailed. But occasionally, one of you would spot someone, get busy and be whisked away into the night. 

‘They’re on their way.’ Mingyu finishes, and you shrug, preoccupied by the muscled man downstairs — Tall, dark and handsome. 

As the music shifted, Jun pulled you eagerly onto the dance floor, ready to rock, twist, point, any drunken dance move that his body could conjure in the moment, a loud laugh escaping your lips when he pokes the person behind him. 

The music was something booming, high-pitched vocals over a speedy tempo, making your hips sway with easy finesse, Jun matching you with a cheeky pout on his face. At some point, Mingyu had disappeared into the crowd to collect his bandmates, leaving you and Jun to continue letting the beat pump through your bodies. 

Bodies slick with sweat stuck to yours, the alcohol-induced euphoria swimming through your system and rendering you careless, as all you thought about was feeling the music travel through your bones. 

Through the crowd, your abnormally tall friend weaselled his way through, two drinks held haphazardly in his hand as he held them above head height, almost spilling the beverages on multiple unassuming party-goers' heads. 

Behind him, two men materialised, both of whom you recognised from Instagram posts, music videos and whatever else your two best friends were involved in. The shorter of the two had a snapback perched backwards over his hair, and he sported a shy grin as he greeted you with a polite nod, ‘Vernon.’ 

Next to him, your gaze hovered, the second man making your breath hold tightly in your throat — He was gorgeous. The sort of gorgeous that is plastered on the front of fashion magazines. The sort that almost made drool slide down your chin. 

Minghao, you can only presume, had a pale face, framed by a sleek black mullet, wisps of hair tickling his sleek cheekbones. The enticing dark chocolate eyes were sharp, and it felt as if Minghao’s gaze was swallowing you whole. Lazily, he dragged his eyes down your body, a small smirk on his plump pink lips as he consumed you with his look alone. 

‘Minghao.’ He leaned forward with subtle ease, his strong hand ghosting your waist as his hot breath tickled your ear.

That was the night that changed your life. 

Messy makeouts in the bathroom corridor, arms desperately pulling each other close, feeling all of your soft skin and lathering in the rosy scent of your perfume. Tugging his fluffy hair closer, dragging him lustfully to bed, arching your back involuntarily as his hot mouth met you. 

You and Minghao were like two magnets, snapping together with force as soon as you met. There was no doubt in your mind that he was your person from the moment you set your eyes on him. And he — he was smitten, absolutely enamoured by you; he practically fell to his knees when you stepped out of your front door for the first date. 

Now, six years later, you were each other’s forevers. The gorgeous engagement band on your finger confirms that. Minghao hunted far and wide for the ring that felt authentically you and him, searching across countries, visiting jewellery stores for hours at a time, researching different materials and styles. 

An unexpected hunt on a work trip to Beijing made him stumble across a delicate twist of silver that was bent into two smooth spirals,  a discrete diamond framed by the curving silver work. It was so perfect that Minghao didn’t hesitate — he signed the papers and strolled out of the store with a bashful grin on his face. 

Then, on that starry evening when he got down on one knee, you felt your heart explode in your chest. Adoration surging through your body as you looked at your boyfriend’s sincere smile, his warm eyes glazed with anticipation as he bared his heart to you in an engagement box. 

As the streetlights strobed softly through the private car's window, your ring glistened against your knee. A symbol of unrequited love that decorated your body every single day. 

The vehicle was a buzz of your best friends, Jun squished in the middle, whilst Mingyu took up way too much space next to him, talking animatedly with Alice in the front seat. Both men were a concoction of shirts and cologne, sunglasses perched in their hair. It had been a long time since you’d been to a club, life moving in a gentle motion away from partying, so you were beyond excited to be indulging in one night of drunken fun with your best friends and fiancée. 

Minghao was already at the bar the company had hired out, without a doubt networking, talking to devoted fans and bantering with his sub-unit counterpart. 

You could already imagine his lean body, glistening in the low lighting, his shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair tickling his cheeks under a nonchalantly placed cap. Ring finger decorated with a shining silver band as he DJ’d. God, the vision practically made your panties wet. 

‘What are you daydreaming about?’ Jun nudged at your side, all heads turning to yours as you rapidly snapped out of your drool-inducing vision of your fiancée. 

‘Nothing,’ You reply, perhaps a bit too fast, the flustered expression on your features refusing to be wiped off. Trying to faux calm, you absentmindedly brush invisible dust off your dress. 

‘You’re disgusting.’ Jun replies with a distinct scrunch to the nose. 

‘What?’ You reply, with widened eyes and a sarcastic look of shock. Jun shakes his head at you, the car slowing as it swerves down a side street in Tokyo, vivid neon lights glowing above your heads. 

Crowds of people hover by a bar and you can only presume that’s your destination. There was an atmosphere of anticipation, the beckoning call of music reverberating out onto the slim street, and the car halted, people ecstatically staring through the glass. 

As soon as the door opened, you smiled and waved with the politeness you’d be forced to adopt the moment the tabloids caught wind of you. Teethy grins, small bows at fans, waves towards the crowd. However, as the audience swarming outside were struck with Jun and Mingyu's presence, you slipped through the entrance, staff easily directing you to the small stage, where the main act was fooling around. 

The bar was packed from wall to wall, bodies crammed in as fans excitedly screamed, hollered and shouted at their idols. The air was thick with smoke that clouded heavily in the corners and dampened the lights. A loud and bass-heavy hyperpop track shook the room as it bounced with a tinny crunch out of the speakers and flowed through the atmosphere. 

This environment felt like travelling back in time, the thumping of dance music and the scent of strong alcohol dripping nostalgia through you. The hum of bodies pressed into the space brought you back to those long and late nights of the past, dancing sweatily with strangers, not having a care in the world. As you rolled your shoulders, the muscles loosening instinctively, you felt the weight of adulthood dissolve as the atmosphere swallowed you.

The staff member broke the crowd, guiding you through the barricade with a polite nod. The blonde locks wisping in the busy air caught your attention — your fiancée, looking devastatingly gorgeous, was perched in front of a set of decks, headphones slung around his neck as his stare zeroed in on the buttons. Minghao’s hair was hanging carelessly along his shoulders, a slouching cap resting on his head. He had a pair of dark sunglasses shielding his eyes from the hundreds of phone flashes shining at him. As he bobbed his head along to the beat with effortless indifference, you decided his nonchalance was perhaps the most attractive thing on the planet. 

There was a cloudy grey tank top hanging loosely off of his toned chest, his tattooed arms revealed to the world as they flexed when he held his hand up in motion. Minghao looked delectable, his body glistening in all the right ways as you watched with your mouth hanging. Even after six years, he still made you speechless daily. 

As if your stare burned through him, his head turned straight towards you, his face softening in recognition as he quirked a sweet smile towards you. With a brief lean into Vernon, he stepped down and sauntered over to you, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he inspected you. 

With discretion, he slid his arms around your waist, his smile converting into a smirk as he raked his eyes down your scantily clad body — your dress hugged all the right places, revealing a modest amount of cleavage and displaying your long legs for appreciation. 

‘My love, you look beautiful.’ Minghao mutters in your ear, his hot breath fanning your soft skin, the surface puckering into an array of goosebumps. Your fiancée’s deep, seductive tone sent shivers down your spine, and you allowed your hands to rest on his shoulder, feeling the cotton beneath your fingertips. 

‘Hao, you look-‘ There wasn’t even a word to describe how godly he looked. ‘Fuck, you look so good.’ You let your hand skim his bicep, squeezing the tough muscle lightly as he leaned forward, tilting your jaw to kiss you. His soft, plush lips, which you had the privilege of kissing daily, still sent electricity sparking across your body, the taste of mint gum and Coke infiltrating your mouth with ease. You both knew you could easily be here all night, wrapped up in one another, refusing to falter until you knew exactly how good his mouth tasted. 

However, the hoards of cameras and fans watching closely ignited a consciousness that forced Minghao to apprehensively pull away, his lip caught between his teeth. 

‘Proud of you, baby.’ You say wholeheartedly, sending him a sincere smile before pecking him lightly and running the pad of your thumb over his cheek. 

‘I love you,’ He says back, his eyes practically oozing adoration. ‘Wouldn’t be here without you.’ 

To this, you smile with unrestrained happiness, letting your hands run lightly down his torso before giving his waist a squeeze and ushering him back to the decks. Throwing a quick wave at Vernon, who insisted on a sweaty congratulatory hug, you joined the rest of your friends who’d made their way to the viewing area. 

The crowd was alive, chanting and buzzing at the two boys, who danced and waved happily, both radiating shy nonchalance whilst simultaneously bringing life to the room. 

‘Put your drinks up!’ Your fiancée shouted, jumping excitedly with Vernon, his face radiating as joy rumbled through him — and you couldn’t help but appreciate how breathtaking he looked as euphoric glee zoomed through his skin.

Alongside you, Mingyu had arrived with a bottle of tequila, shot glasses lined up with precision. With a huge laugh, Mingyu poured one out, slinging it back before pouring another, then a line, linking his arm with yours to knock it back with the old trick you shared. 

The sting of the spirit was dulled by the bittersweet flavour of nostalgia it arose on your tongue. It was a twisted sentiment to your early twenties, those party days, the ones that brought you and your friends together — the ones that brought your husband-to-be together, and it bloomed a subtle warmth in your chest. 

Watching the man you cherished, so in his element, moving seamlessly to his own music, smiling wide enough to blind a nation, brought bliss to your heart and you inhaled deeply as if it could pause the moment.

Mingyu and Jun, dancing with drunken silliness next to you, expressions of happiness playing on their features. Roars boomed as Vernon and Minghao stood on the platform the decks sat on, dancing in sync to the songs they’d work tirelessly on. 

And if you’re being honest, you don’t really party, you just sit at home, but tonight you were throwing it back to those long euphoric nights, letting your body sway freely and laughing wholeheartedly with your closest friends. 

As the night stretched on, the bar darkened, the atmosphere still electric even as a different DJ took to the decks. Minghao had eventually shuffled his way over to you, sliding both hands around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck. The hair on your body stood up at your fiancée’s skinship, the thumping in your heart intensifying with his hot hands as they lightly massaged your skin. 

‘Hey sweetheart,’ He said with a dipped voice, leaving a light kiss on the crook of your neck. You turn rapidly to face your hot, sweaty and frankly, very sexy fiancée, his cap pulled low as you join your lips with his; alcohol induced lust daring to poke through. 

‘You were amazing up there,’ You breathed, a bashful smile appearing on Minghao’s face as you complimented him. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ 

There’s a glaze over his eyes that is somewhere between adoration and gratitude, the mixture making his chocolate eyes shine with unapologetic happiness. Instead of replying, he simply pulled you in once again, savouring the sweet taste of the plush lips you possessed. 

The whirlwind of friends and colleagues then sweeps him away, people approaching with waves of congratulatory exclamations. You leave him with a tender kiss on the cheek, a reminder of how proud you are, and then disappear off to Alice. 

With drunken confidence, the two of you dance, shaking your hair, swaying your hips, letting big hearty laughs tumble out of you. As the songs beat on, Jun and Mingyu materialise at your sides, moving exactly how they did all those years ago — Jun producing the strangest moves he could conjure, making you almost wet yourself in fits of giggles. 

As Mingyu twirls you effortlessly, your sweet-faced soon-to-be-husband arrives, sliding in close to you, his body moving like liquid against you. The sensation of his hard chest pressed against your back made tingles shoot down your spine, the familiar scent of his musky beechwood aftershave wafting over you.

‘Back already?’ you say with a turned head, only his light curtains visible as he presses tickling kisses along your neck.

‘Forgot how attractive you are when you dance like this,’ He mumbles, nipping on a spot that elicits rather inappropriate sounds from you. The heat of the bar seemed to have settled on your skin as a heavy dew, your pulse racing at a quickened pace. 

‘Hao,’ You exhale with heft, hoping the release would ease the growing heat between your legs. You lean your head into the crook of his shoulder behind you, his lips forced to disconnect with your neck as he grumbles quietly. ‘We’re in public.’ 

The shy and bashful Minghao that presented himself to the public was long gone — his shameless flirtation and risqué-nature penetrating through his persona. You knew this version of Minghao very well. It was the one shielded from his fans, one reserved specifically for you, the one that devoured you on a balcony the night of your engagement. 

And his lusty gaze made the heat pooling between your legs feel more and more bothersome. 

‘I can’t help myself,’ He says quietly, ‘you look too good, it’s driving me insane.’ His arms don’t falter from their secure place on your hips, tugging you impossibly closer. It felt like you were younger again, kissing carelessly in the club, letting the music take you both away as you indulged in one another.

‘Hao,’ A shaky breath leaves your lips, ‘We can’t exactly slip off, this is your party,’ 

With a sigh of frustration, he lands one more nip to the sweet spot on your neck, ‘We’re leaving as soon as it’s socially acceptable.’ 

It, in fact, was not socially acceptable to leave until three in the morning. In those hours, everyone had gotten impossibly drunker. Beside you, Mingyu, almost asleep, stood up, his speech slurred in that hilariously whiny way that was so reminiscent of dragging his tall frame down the dark Seoul streets. 

Minghao had hovered around, often being pulled in every direction by various guests, his gaze hot on your figure as you continued to dance or mingle. You could feel eyes burn into your body when you bent over to pick up a spilt beverage, and he used it as a convenient excuse to practically run to your side — skilfully placing himself to conceal your exposed thighs. 

Like a perfect scapegoat, Mingyu almost toppled over into both of you. The lanky man’s absent gaze was practically begging for bed, and who were you both to make him stay any longer? 

‘We should take him back to the hotel.’ You say with a pout, bidding goodbye to Jun with a tight hug. Minghao had rapidly slipped off to also spout all variations of valedictions to the remaining guests. 

Three slightly long, awkward hugs, around ten polite bows and countless ‘goodbyes’ later, you and Minghao had Mingyu slung over your shoulders, his body borderline slack between you as you both dragged him into the car. 

As much as you could mentally thank Mingyu for always drinking himself into the perfect escape plan, you didn’t want to praise him for the impending spine problems his years of drunken slackness will inevitably cause you.

There were many ways you’d rather be leaving the bar. Through a back door, hands tangled in Minghao’s mullet, tugging when his lips hit that sensitive spot on your neck. Or in a private car, just the two of you, your hand eagerly stroking torturously slowly up his thigh, skimming his crotch with routine obliviousness. 

But alas, Mingyu collapsed onto the seat with a thud, babbling incoherently as he lay his head on your lap. Minghao just tutted as he climbed into the passenger seat,  turning to see you display a shrug, raising your hands in defeat. 

Even through Mingyu's meaningless utterances, the sexual tension was rife — Minghao stayed glued to his phone, his hat low as his teeth nibbled on his lip in frustration. He was vying for a distraction, and his Instagram feed had never been so boring. 

You, on the other hand, leaned on your wrist as you watched the busy, late-night traffic blur past the window. Neon lights and hordes of bodies meshed together in the dark night, the lowlight skimming your fiancées strong jaw, which was very obviously clenched, his plump lips glowing with each passing streetlight. 

God, you were ready to devour him. 

The minutes skidded by almost painfully, Tokyo dragging through your vision with snail-like slowness. Mingyu was fast asleep on your lap, muttering to himself drunkenly — If your head wasn’t spinning with visions of the gorgeous man in the front seat, you might find this heartwarming and so reminiscent of times passed. Mingyu follows his usual routine, getting too drunk and having to be hauled home by you or whichever oblivious friend was roped in to take half of his weight. Stumbling into the hotel elevator with someone hot on his trail, apologising profusely to whichever member of the public he may have embarrassed himself in front of. Then, collapsing onto the closest comfiest surface — the hotel bed, and passing out without a word. 

It made you giggle at how his habits had never changed and how yours remained, too. Popping two painkillers onto his nightstand, filling up a cup with water. All the usual things that came as second nature. Minghao watched you closely with adoration. There wasn’t a day that he didn’t fall deeper in love with you, and today he really felt it. Even through the chaos, the stress, the pressure, your presence was ever-grounding; even if it made his brain scatter when he saw you. 

Your fiancée lingered close behind you as you clicked the door shut slowly, the dim hallway abandoned at this heinous time. The warm glow made your body shine, the expanse of your neck exposed when you swept your hair to the side, your long legs practically glistening for Minghao to ogle. He traced the curve of your waist in your tight dress, biting his lip at the swell of your ass as you twisted to look at him. 

‘Let me get out of the door first,’ You joke, recognising the lust dripping off of his gaze. Without hesitation, his tongue slipped out of his mouth, licking his lips as if you were his favourite meal. 

You were. 

The tether within Minghao had snapped, finally alone after hours of pent-up frustration, and he had you pushed up against the wall with lightning-quick agility. One strong arm wrapped tightly around your waist to pull his hips flush against yours, the other cradling your face with softness, the rough pad of his thumb savouring the feeling of your skin below it.

Without hesitation, he joined his lips to yours with desperation, his body aching to taste the alcohol on you — and now he could taste it, he felt utterly intoxicated. The plush of your lips was so familiar, but it never failed to make him feel like every hair on his body was standing on end. 

‘Hao,’ You breathed out in a quiet whine, your hands lacing through Minghao’s soft hair with an instinctive tug as he let his lips begin their assault on your neck. He knew exactly how to make you fawn, his teeth grazing your sensitive spots as he left discrete marks along your exposed shoulder. 

To be honest, he didn’t care that people were sleeping behind plywood walls; you were too delectable to treat anyone else with regard. A sick part of him wanted them to hear how good he made you feel, he wanted them to know that his fiancée would only moan like this for him for the rest of her life. 

Your nails clawed harshly at his biceps as the feeling of his lips made heat pool pathetically between your legs, his lusted-over gaze burning through you when he pulled back to examine his art. 

This was Minghao’s own personal Picasso. The sight of you, face flushed and screwn in an expression of blissful pleasure, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin as your head leaned on the dark wall behind you, the expanse of your neck exposed and actively developing little bruises. The dress, which was, quite frankly, a method of torture designed specifically to make Minghao suffer, was bunching up and revealing your hot skin to his eyes. 

‘Oh baby,’ Minghao sighs, letting his arms pull your body into his. You took advantage of his moment of weakness and began to pepper kisses up the column of his throat, trailing along his jaw and nibbling his ear gently, smirking as the skin under your fingertips rose in goosebumps. Sometimes you forgot how easily you affected him, the hotness of your breath eliciting his body to react rapidly, his eyes fluttering shut tightly as he groaned loudly and unapologetically. 

The hallway had dissolved into a desire-driven blur around you both, the almost pornographic moans tumbling out of your fiancées mouth floating you away on a cloud of pure sexual need. 

‘Baby, I need you.’ He manages to gasp out, your hand now feeling his toned stomach with daringly slow accuracy whilst your mouth continues to run circles around his brain. 

‘Can’t have me in a corridor, Hao.’ You state between sloppy kisses, not parting from his skin for longer than a few seconds. 

He turned his head and emitted a sound resembling a hiss as your mouth was forced to leave his body, ‘I’ll have you right here, sweetheart, don’t test me.’ 

The tone was icy, the dominance in his voice almost making your knees give way. His hand was resting with a strong presence on the back of your neck, his drooped eyelids penetrating you with so much intensity it was overwhelming. 

Not willing to try your luck with Minghao — Knowing he’d bunch your dress up and tear your underwear off for anyone to see, you take his wrist in your hand, dragging him to the elevator. There’s a cocky smirk that’s landed permanently on his features, his eyes watching the way your ass giggled as you jogged lightly to the end of the hallway, pulling him along. 

The doors slid shut, but before they could ring out a quiet ding! he has you pinned against the mirrored wall, his body heavy against your back. 

It’s embarrassing the way you arch into him, your breath heavy as it already begins to cloud the mirror in small hues. Behind you, he has one of your arms secured to your back, intertwining his fingers with yours in an intimate gesture. Yet, his eyes are darkened as they scan your face in the mirror, the need rife in your hooded gaze as you meet his hungry look. 

Your entire body is squashed against the mirror, making your cleavage bulge out of your skimpy dress, and Minghao can’t help but stare at it as he reattaches his mouth to your neck eagerly. The hardness of his throbbing cock is tough against your ass, and you gasp sharply when he smoothly thrusts himself against you. 

‘Look at you,’ He coos with fake sympathy dripping off every word, his mouth ruthlessly working at your exposed skin. ‘Such a greedy girl, rubbing yourself against me in public.’ 

Your fiancées taunts make you impossibly wetter, and you attempt to stifle a moan that was escaping you. Minghao pauses sharply, squinting at your already fucked out reflection. ‘It’s too late to be quiet now, baby, you’ve already let the whole floor know how good my lips make you feel.’ 

It’s embarrassing. Almost humiliating, how he has you completely at his mercy before you’ve even swiped your room key — in the elevator where anyone could see you, where any innocent passerby could watch as your fiancée ruts his stiff cock into you, when any of his members could walk in to your face flushed and already fucked out before Minghao has even touched you. 

As the elevator begins to halt, he releases his grip on you, taking your hand sweetly and pulling you into his side. It’s mind-boggling how versatile Minghao is, the doors sliding open with torturous pace as a fellow hotel guest nods politely to your fiancée, entering the space that held the ghost of said man, practically dry-humping you against the wall. 

Minghao’s grip around you was tight, his hand absentmindedly tugging your dress to cover your exposed thighs as he smiled awkwardly and bowed to the stranger, keeping your head tucked safely into the crook of his neck. 

You knew this was killing Minghao. Even the redness on your face did not compare to the restraint he was exercising with each passing moment. 

The elevator slowed once again, and Minghao couldn’t pull you out of there faster, his cock painfully hard in his trousers; he was already facing your shared room by the time the door to the elevator slid closed. 

Beep! The hotel door clicks open, and everything becomes a whirlwind. Minghao has you pressed against it with wicked ease, pulling your lips to meet his in a sloppy, needy kiss that radiates heat from him. Your hands are sliding beneath his shirt, letting your nails scratch along the toned muscles as his hand smooths over your ass, grabbing at it harshly as he attempts to pull you closer. 

Minghao’s lips are working on the sweet spot below your collarbone, tasting the skin with unfaltering intensity. You let your hands roam, tangling them in his hair, scratching at his back, squeezing at his waist — you feel every inch of him like you’re learning where everything is. 

With a rough tug, your dress is pooled around your waist, your braless chest bouncing out with the release of the cloth binding it, and Minghao lets out a long groan, his eyes closing as he lets his head slack. He is devilishly handsome, his jaw defined in the low light as it flexes at the sight of you. 

‘Sweetheart,’ He speaks whilst he inspects every inch of you closely, bringing his hot mouth to your chest once again, his tongue drawing patterns against your skin as he brings one of his hands to toy with your nipple, his long fingers working automatically to pinch and caress you. 

Loud throaty moans tumble out of you as he fails to neglect your other nipple, letting his mouth trail hot kisses around it before sucking with perfected ease. If Minghao’s arm wasn’t securely around you, the feeling would’ve made you collapse to the floor — he knew your body like the back of his hand, nipping and sucking on every single sensitive spot, touching every place that set your body on fire. Except where you needed him most. 

‘Hao,’ You moan, and he just grunts against you, not faltering for a second from his heavy assault on your chest, the sight of him devouring you almost enough to have you cumming. ‘Baby, I need-‘ 

He pulls off of your nipple with a dirty pop, his pent-up gaze watching as the pleasure drops off your face with the lack of contact. It was filthy, the arousal that pumped through him when he watched you become absolutely desperate for him. 

‘Need what baby?’ He questions, his movements so slow that they almost cease, making your eyebrows furrow and your lip jut out in a pout. Pathetically, you let your slender hand reach for the waistband of his trousers, but he’s like a hawk, pinning both of your wrists above your head. 

It’s humiliating how turned on you are — completely under his control willingly. His frame is fully clothed, whilst yours is a mess, dress in a rushed bunch around your waist, panties dripping. 

‘What do you need?’ He questions, gaze burning into you as he drags his eyes down your curves. ‘Use your words, baby.’ 

‘Need you,’ You whine, wiggling to attempt to reach for his waistband again, but his grip is steady, keeping you absolutely merciless. 

‘Need what part of me?’ He blinks, big innocent eyes staring at yours like he wasn’t already ruining you without even a touch. 

Your face is utterly flushed as embarrassment and arousal mix into a vicious vision of want, the outline of his hard cock practically pounces at you. Minghao uses this moment to let one of his big hands ghost over your panties, his touch so light that you buck your hips instantly, desperate for him to give your clit any stimulation. 

A taunting laugh escapes his lips before his ruthless mouth is back on your neck, nipping and sucking as your head falls back in pleasure. The sudden attention forces a moan to escape you, and he stops, the brief contact ripped away so savagely that your brain is fuzzy with frustration. 

‘I asked you a question, sweetheart.’ He repeats, letting your restrained hands fall as he tugs you lightly towards the bed, pausing as you near it. Without a word, he slips your bundled dress off of your frame carefully, discarding it as you kiss him, pulling his neck to yours before he even has a chance to appreciate your almost naked body. 

‘Need your cock baby,’ You mumble against his lips, and he groans at your needy answer, his pants feeling uncomfortably tight around him, and you let your nails scrape his lower abdomen in that way that has his body in shivers. 

Minghao is so enticed by you, the way your lips mingle with his effortlessly, the ways in which you know his body, the ways that can almost make him cum in his pants with just a feather-light touch. 

You’ve slyly twisted, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed, your lips not parting as you masterfully manoeuvre yourself between his solid thighs. 

Minghao thinks this might be a mirage. A vision of ecstasy in a moment of desperation. You, his beautiful fiancée, on your knees in front of him, your lips swollen from his assault on them, tiny marks along your neck from his greediness to mark you. There’s a distinct thirst in your eyes as your hands fumble with his belt, and Minghao thinks it might be the most attractive thing he’s ever seen. 

Like an expert, his belt is unbuckled, and his trousers are tugged down, your light touch carrying the weight of hours of teasing. As you let his cock spring free, he hisses, the scene in front of him so dirty he could cum right now.

Your fiancé's biceps are flexed as he holds himself up, leaning back and watching you with squinted eyes. His cock is so pretty, you sometimes forget, and it shocks you all over again – It’s pale and long, not too girthy but beautifully slender. The sight of it alone makes your pussy clench around nothing, the memories of it kissing your cervix infiltrating your mind. 

Drool pools at the corner of your lips, and without further ado, you stroke your fingertips lightly along his cock, letting your thumb drag over the tip, a string of tangled grunts tumbling out of him as you spread the leaking pre-cum down his shaft. 

After a few eager strokes, you bring your mouth to him, kitten-licking him with precision, his teeth gritted as he lets out a hiss, your warm mouth sending spikes of pleasure up his body. His cock was more than a mouthful, the salty pre-cum lathering your tongue as you gradually make your way down him, gagging as your nose grazes his stomach. 

Your engagement band glints as you grip his thigh, beginning to piston your head, throaty moans slipping out of his mouth as you take him so well. 

‘Fuck baby,’ He groans, and an involuntary sound of pleasure leaves you, your nipples perked in arousal as you speed up. Minghao runs his fingers through your soft hair delicately, the sensation prickling your skin as he gathers your locks and guides your motions with desperation. ‘You look so pretty.’ 

It was so filthy, the squelch of your mouth working against him and his heavy, breathy moans at free flow as the feeling of your tongue around him takes over. Minghao is seeing stars, the sight of you alone pushing him closer, yet alone the stimulation on his cock.

‘Baby, baby.’ He pants, his breathing climbing rapidly as his release nears, and he pulls your head away from him carefully, refusing to come from just your mouth – he needed to be inside you, watching your eyes roll back as he bottoms out. You pout, looking up at him with red cheeks, your lips glistening with his pre-cum and your spit. ‘I want to come inside you.’ 

His words make you ache, your pussy practically begging for something – anything at all. 

Minghao lifts your jaw up to his, rejoining your lips. The salty taste of himself on you infiltrates his mouth as he pulls you onto his lap, his strong arms reaching to squeeze at the expanse of your ass cheeks as his cock is trapped between you both, nudging at your clit in selfish intervals. 

‘Take this off.’ You whisper, hands already pulling at his shirt, and he whips it off, sparing only a second before his tongue is intertwined with yours again, your fingertips feeling his smooth skin and tracing his abs. 

You push his body down, crawling over him to grind your clothed entrance against his hard cock. Pretty moans falling out of you as your clit gets the stimulation it was craving, forcing your eyes to squeeze shut as your body is submerged in pleasure. Your fiancée is breathless below you, your hair dangling down into his face as your expression presents as angelic, all-consumed by pleasure. Minghao always thought you were the most beautiful woman on earth, but god, you glowed in a different way like this. 

Breathing shallowly, you continued dragging yourself against his hardness, your eyes locking with Minghaos as he tilts his head back into the mattress, his gaze lusty yet determined. Those strong arms working their way down to your wetness as you pause your movements, desperate for your fiancée to touch you. 

‘Oh my poor baby, you’re soaked,’ He said, using his middle finger to trace circles over you, the panties ruined and your thighs almost dripping. You couldn't even muster a response, his light teasing pressing all of the right spots, and you drop your head to the crook of his neck as he continues his lazy circles. ‘Do you want me to stop?’ 

You knew it was a baited question. Minghao wanted to see you squirm. 

‘No, please.’ You beg, your mouth hot against his sensitive neck as you speak into it, biting at the skin gently. 

‘Look at me.’ He says sternly. Pressing one finger into your dripping hole, pushing your panties inside you. It was ludicrous and practically a sin to be so hopelessly at his expense, but you couldn't think past how good it felt. 

‘Look at me.’ He repeats with a grit in his teeth, halting his movements to get your full attention. With a rapid snap of the neck up, your faces are inches apart, his hot breath mingling with yours as he scans your gorgeous face, your cheeks reddened, your lips jutted. 

You were so beautiful. 

‘Good girl.’ Before you can even moan, his mouth is back on yours hungrily, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he guides your soaked clit to rub against his painfully hard cock. ‘Stay just like this, baby.’ Then, in a subtle movement, he slides out from underneath you and discards the rest of his clothing, kneeling behind you. 

The heat of his body radiated as he stroked himself whilst inspecting you, wetness dripping down your spread legs, pussy gleaming with arousal. It was one of his favourite sights, and he can’t help himself as he runs his hands up and down your plush thighs, squeezing your ass and letting the cool of his metal engagement band send shivers up your spine. 

‘Hao, please.’ With desperation, you push your hips backwards, his cock brushing you, and you let out a hum of satisfaction. 

Wordlessly, Minghao begins to guide his cock into your dripping hole, the sensation of you so tight and warm around him making a heavy groan fall from his throat. Similarly, tears begin to cloud your vision as sweet relief washes over you, the feeling of him dragging against your walls combined with his throaty sounds making you dig your nails into the soft white covers. 

Slowly, he bullies his way into you, his member hitting every single spot that has you clawing desperately at anything you can. As he bottoms out with a hiss, a loud moan leaves your lips, the overwhelming feeling of his tip mingling with your cervix, making you clench around him. 

It felt insane how well his body slotted into yours. Your pussy was moulded to fit his cock, your walls hugging it in every single place. There was nothing that could compare to the feeling of being conjoined with one another, ecstasy blasting through you both as you thrive in the overwhelming feeling of one another. 

Unable to restrain himself, Minghao begins to fuck into you with a quickened pace, the room becoming a soundtrack of filthy sounds; his hips slapping your thighs, the squelch of your soaked hole, the mixture of grunts and moans the two of you emit. 

Minghao’s eyes stare as your skin jiggles with each thrust, his fingers gripping your hips so tight that bruises will blossom beneath them tomorrow. His breathing is heavy as he relishes the euphoric feeling of you bent over, receiving him so willingly and squeezing him impossibly tighter. 

The wicked thrusting has you seeing stars, the sensations overwhelming, and you start hurtling towards your release, moans running at free flow out of you as your fiancée only quickens his pace. 

‘H-Hao,’ You moan, gripping the mattress below you as if it could receive some of the immense pleasure rippling through you. 

‘Yes, baby?’ He pants out, letting one hand rub up your side in a soothing manner, his hips and arms doing completely contrasting things to your body. 

‘I’m close.’ You sputter out, lathered in his deep strokes that were practically splitting you in half. 

‘Mhm,’ He hums, only speeding up impossibly faster as he wraps a strong arm around your waist to pull you into him, not letting his cock disconnect from the comfort of your slick. 

Your head is slack on Minghao’s shoulder as he holds your back tightly to his chest, letting his hand ghost over your neck. He nips at your ear as he continues to piston into you ruthlessly, your release within an arm's reach. 

‘You’re doing so well, baby,’ Minghao whispers in your ear, tightening his grip on your neck as he chases your high. ‘Such a good girl, my good girl.’ 

That was all it took before you were tightening around him, high-pitched moans tumbling out of you. The coil within you snaps, sending your vision white, heat flushing out of you as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. 

Minghao keeps fucking you ruthlessly, holding the weight of your body as he chases his own release, small whines escaping your mouth as he overstimulates you. The grip of his hands gets tighter and tighter as he grunts in your ear, muttering incoherently as all he thinks about is how good you feel. 

‘Fuck ____.’ He gasps, his breath taken from him as he spurts inside you, his warm milky release coating your insides, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he slows. 

The room is swamped in the sound of heavy breathing, Minghao pulling out and helping you lie down gently, kissing your shoulders, all the way down your spine and then returning to kiss the crown of your head. 

‘You’re so beautiful.’ He speaks with delicate sincerity, your sleepy gaze watching his naked figure disappear off to the bathroom. 

‘I love you.’ You mumble, grinning shyly and nuzzling your face into the pillow. Your fiancée reappears with a wet towel, wiping you cautiously as he appreciates your gorgeous figure. 

‘I love you more, my love.’ He replies, Your vision became as your body relaxed into the plush mattress. With a light but solid grip, you tug him onto the bed, his musky scent washing over you once again, and you sigh happily.

‘Just cuddle me, baby.’ You murmur, tiredness taking over you as he pulls you into his chest, placing the covers over the two of you. Peppering kisses on your head, he watches you gently doze off, and his heart feels like it could burst with how much he adores you. 

Even submerged in sleep, your hand finds his, engagement rings clicking quietly together, and Minghao closes his eyes in contentment, letting sleep lull him away with you. 

Yeah, so homebodies you had become. 

Really, who would want to leave the house when the human incarnation of a god, Xu Minghao, your soon-to-be husband, led intense and relaxing meditation sessions for you? In your vast garden, greenery swallowing the senses, the small swish of the coi pond pattering softly to one side, your lean fiancée speaking with ultimate rest dripping off of every word. It was like your own personal heaven! 

But alas, work calls — Minghao had been working tirelessly with Vernon for their new subunit. Slipping in the front door early in the morning, cap pulled low as his feet dragged against the polished wooden floors, fatigue radiating off his body when he quietly pulled your body into his and cocooned himself around you. 

This was no new routine; you’d been with Minghao for years, through comebacks, daesangs, scandals, you name it, you stood by his side, a solid and hushed rock. However, there was once upon a time when you and he enjoyed indulging in the bustling Seoul nightlife, awake until all hours of the night and dancing carelessly under strobe lights. It was an era you both look back at with soppy nostalgia. 

The bass vibrated through the darkened club, the sound of a hyperpop song penetrating your flesh and transforming into sweet endorphins, a buzz of adrenaline and raw energy surging through you. Beside you, your best friends Jun and Mingyu nodded nonchalantly along to the beat — sunglasses securely over their eyes, making them resemble a pair of handsome bodyguards rather than two idols on their night off. 

A mix of tequila and soda zipped through your straw as you leaned on the wall between the two, their chatter rapidly adapting to include you. ‘I mean, I never coined them for the clubbing type,’ Jun shrugged, halfway through a conversation with his bandmate, who had his eyes narrowed at his phone in his hand. 

The three of you had perched on a balcony, watching the dance floor swarm with bodies, arms flailing to the music, heads bobbing to the beat. Dark purple and white lights flashed, illuminating the floor in brief intervals, revealing people intertwined with one another, others busy looking at their keys and some drunken party-goers grinding with lustful gazes. 

‘Well, they’re on their way.’ Mingyu shrugged, pulling your gaze away from your inspection of a particularly messy make-out session in the middle of the crowd – gross. 

‘Who is?’ You question, lifting your drink lazily to your lips. 

‘Remember Vernon and Minghao?’ Mingyu questioned, slinging his arm around your shoulders, his beer almost spilling onto your heels with his clumsy movement. 

‘I know the names.’ You reply, nibbling on your straw and eyeing a broad-shouldered man, leant nonchalantly against the bar. 

This was your routine: Jun and Mingyu would drag you to the club. Most of the time, the three of you partied yourselves out together, strolling home in fits of drunken giggles, Mingyu slung between you and Jun like a human piñata — letting his slackened body flop onto your sofa whilst you and Jun top-and-tailed. But occasionally, one of you would spot someone, get busy and be whisked away into the night. 

‘They’re on their way.’ Mingyu finishes, and you shrug, preoccupied by the muscled man downstairs — Tall, dark and handsome. 

As the music shifted, Jun pulled you eagerly onto the dance floor, ready to rock, twist, point, any drunken dance move that his body could conjure in the moment, a loud laugh escaping your lips when he pokes the person behind him. 

The music was something booming, high-pitched vocals over a speedy tempo, making your hips sway with easy finesse, Jun matching you with a cheeky pout on his face. At some point, Mingyu had disappeared into the crowd to collect his bandmates, leaving you and Jun to continue letting the beat pump through your bodies. 

Bodies slick with sweat stuck to yours, the alcohol-induced euphoria swimming through your system and rendering you careless, as all you thought about was feeling the music travel through your bones. 

Through the crowd, your abnormally tall friend weaselled his way through, two drinks held haphazardly in his hand as he held them above head height, almost spilling the beverages on multiple unassuming party-goers' heads. 

Behind him, two men materialised, both of whom you recognised from Instagram posts, music videos and whatever else your two best friends were involved in. The shorter of the two had a snapback perched backwards over his hair, and he sported a shy grin as he greeted you with a polite nod, ‘Vernon.’ 

Next to him, your gaze hovered, the second man making your breath hold tightly in your throat — He was gorgeous. The sort of gorgeous that is plastered on the front of fashion magazines. The sort that almost made drool slide down your chin. 

Minghao, you can only presume, had a pale face, framed by a sleek black mullet, wisps of hair tickling his sleek cheekbones. The enticing dark chocolate eyes were sharp, and it felt as if Minghao’s gaze was swallowing you whole. Lazily, he dragged his eyes down your body, a small smirk on his plump pink lips as he consumed you with his look alone. 

‘Minghao.’ He leaned forward with subtle ease, his strong hand ghosting your waist as his hot breath tickled your ear.

That was the night that changed your life. 

Messy makeouts in the bathroom corridor, arms desperately pulling each other close, feeling all of your soft skin and lathering in the rosy scent of your perfume. Tugging his fluffy hair closer, dragging him lustfully to bed, arching your back involuntarily as his hot mouth met you. 

You and Minghao were like two magnets, snapping together with force as soon as you met. There was no doubt in your mind that he was your person from the moment you set your eyes on him. And he — he was smitten, absolutely enamoured by you; he practically fell to his knees when you stepped out of your front door for the first date. 

Now, six years later, you were each other’s forevers. The gorgeous engagement band on your finger confirms that. Minghao hunted far and wide for the ring that felt authentically you and him, searching across countries, visiting jewellery stores for hours at a time, researching different materials and styles. 

An unexpected hunt on a work trip to Beijing made him stumble across a delicate twist of silver that was bent into two smooth spirals,  a discrete diamond framed by the curving silver work. It was so perfect that Minghao didn’t hesitate — he signed the papers and strolled out of the store with a bashful grin on his face. 

Then, on that starry evening when he got down on one knee, you felt your heart explode in your chest. Adoration surging through your body as you looked at your boyfriend’s sincere smile, his warm eyes glazed with anticipation as he bared his heart to you in an engagement box. 

As the streetlights strobed softly through the private car's window, your ring glistened against your knee. A symbol of unrequited love that decorated your body every single day. 

The vehicle was a buzz of your best friends, Jun squished in the middle, whilst Mingyu took up way too much space next to him, talking animatedly with Alice in the front seat. Both men were a concoction of shirts and cologne, sunglasses perched in their hair. It had been a long time since you’d been to a club, life moving in a gentle motion away from partying, so you were beyond excited to be indulging in one night of drunken fun with your best friends and fiancée. 

Minghao was already at the bar the company had hired out, without a doubt networking, talking to devoted fans and bantering with his sub-unit counterpart. 

You could already imagine his lean body, glistening in the low lighting, his shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair tickling his cheeks under a nonchalantly placed cap. Ring finger decorated with a shining silver band as he DJ’d. God, the vision practically made your panties wet. 

‘What are you daydreaming about?’ Jun nudged at your side, all heads turning to yours as you rapidly snapped out of your drool-inducing vision of your fiancée. 

‘Nothing,’ You reply, perhaps a bit too fast, the flustered expression on your features refusing to be wiped off. Trying to faux calm, you absentmindedly brush invisible dust off your dress. 

‘You’re disgusting.’ Jun replies with a distinct scrunch to the nose. 

‘What?’ You reply, with widened eyes and a sarcastic look of shock. Jun shakes his head at you, the car slowing as it swerves down a side street in Tokyo, vivid neon lights glowing above your heads. 

Crowds of people hover by a bar and you can only presume that’s your destination. There was an atmosphere of anticipation, the beckoning call of music reverberating out onto the slim street, and the car halted, people ecstatically staring through the glass. 

As soon as the door opened, you smiled and waved with the politeness you’d be forced to adopt the moment the tabloids caught wind of you. Teethy grins, small bows at fans, waves towards the crowd. However, as the audience swarming outside were struck with Jun and Mingyu's presence, you slipped through the entrance, staff easily directing you to the small stage, where the main act was fooling around. 

The bar was packed from wall to wall, bodies crammed in as fans excitedly screamed, hollered and shouted at their idols. The air was thick with smoke that clouded heavily in the corners and dampened the lights. A loud and bass-heavy hyperpop track shook the room as it bounced with a tinny crunch out of the speakers and flowed through the atmosphere. 

This environment felt like travelling back in time, the thumping of dance music and the scent of strong alcohol dripping nostalgia through you. The hum of bodies pressed into the space brought you back to those long and late nights of the past, dancing sweatily with strangers, not having a care in the world. As you rolled your shoulders, the muscles loosening instinctively, you felt the weight of adulthood dissolve as the atmosphere swallowed you.

The staff member broke the crowd, guiding you through the barricade with a polite nod. The blonde locks wisping in the busy air caught your attention — your fiancée, looking devastatingly gorgeous, was perched in front of a set of decks, headphones slung around his neck as his stare zeroed in on the buttons. Minghao’s hair was hanging carelessly along his shoulders, a slouching cap resting on his head. He had a pair of dark sunglasses shielding his eyes from the hundreds of phone flashes shining at him. As he bobbed his head along to the beat with effortless indifference, you decided his nonchalance was perhaps the most attractive thing on the planet. 

There was a cloudy grey tank top hanging loosely off of his toned chest, his tattooed arms revealed to the world as they flexed when he held his hand up in motion. Minghao looked delectable, his body glistening in all the right ways as you watched with your mouth hanging. Even after six years, he still made you speechless daily. 

As if your stare burned through him, his head turned straight towards you, his face softening in recognition as he quirked a sweet smile towards you. With a brief lean into Vernon, he stepped down and sauntered over to you, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he inspected you. 

With discretion, he slid his arms around your waist, his smile converting into a smirk as he raked his eyes down your scantily clad body — your dress hugged all the right places, revealing a modest amount of cleavage and displaying your long legs for appreciation. 

‘My love, you look beautiful.’ Minghao mutters in your ear, his hot breath fanning your soft skin, the surface puckering into an array of goosebumps. Your fiancée’s deep, seductive tone sent shivers down your spine, and you allowed your hands to rest on his shoulder, feeling the cotton beneath your fingertips. 

‘Hao, you look-‘ There wasn’t even a word to describe how godly he looked. ‘Fuck, you look so good.’ You let your hand skim his bicep, squeezing the tough muscle lightly as he leaned forward, tilting your jaw to kiss you. His soft, plush lips, which you had the privilege of kissing daily, still sent electricity sparking across your body, the taste of mint gum and Coke infiltrating your mouth with ease. You both knew you could easily be here all night, wrapped up in one another, refusing to falter until you knew exactly how good his mouth tasted. 

However, the hoards of cameras and fans watching closely ignited a consciousness that forced Minghao to apprehensively pull away, his lip caught between his teeth. 

‘Proud of you, baby.’ You say wholeheartedly, sending him a sincere smile before pecking him lightly and running the pad of your thumb over his cheek. 

‘I love you,’ He says back, his eyes practically oozing adoration. ‘Wouldn’t be here without you.’ 

To this, you smile with unrestrained happiness, letting your hands run lightly down his torso before giving his waist a squeeze and ushering him back to the decks. Throwing a quick wave at Vernon, who insisted on a sweaty congratulatory hug, you joined the rest of your friends who’d made their way to the viewing area. 

The crowd was alive, chanting and buzzing at the two boys, who danced and waved happily, both radiating shy nonchalance whilst simultaneously bringing life to the room. 

‘Put your drinks up!’ Your fiancée shouted, jumping excitedly with Vernon, his face radiating as joy rumbled through him — and you couldn’t help but appreciate how breathtaking he looked as euphoric glee zoomed through his skin.

Alongside you, Mingyu had arrived with a bottle of tequila, shot glasses lined up with precision. With a huge laugh, Mingyu poured one out, slinging it back before pouring another, then a line, linking his arm with yours to knock it back with the old trick you shared. 

The sting of the spirit was dulled by the bittersweet flavour of nostalgia it arose on your tongue. It was a twisted sentiment to your early twenties, those party days, the ones that brought you and your friends together — the ones that brought your husband-to-be together, and it bloomed a subtle warmth in your chest. 

Watching the man you cherished, so in his element, moving seamlessly to his own music, smiling wide enough to blind a nation, brought bliss to your heart and you inhaled deeply as if it could pause the moment.

Mingyu and Jun, dancing with drunken silliness next to you, expressions of happiness playing on their features. Roars boomed as Vernon and Minghao stood on the platform the decks sat on, dancing in sync to the songs they’d work tirelessly on. 

And if you’re being honest, you don’t really party, you just sit at home, but tonight you were throwing it back to those long euphoric nights, letting your body sway freely and laughing wholeheartedly with your closest friends. 

As the night stretched on, the bar darkened, the atmosphere still electric even as a different DJ took to the decks. Minghao had eventually shuffled his way over to you, sliding both hands around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck. The hair on your body stood up at your fiancée’s skinship, the thumping in your heart intensifying with his hot hands as they lightly massaged your skin. 

‘Hey sweetheart,’ He said with a dipped voice, leaving a light kiss on the crook of your neck. You turn rapidly to face your hot, sweaty and frankly, very sexy fiancée, his cap pulled low as you join your lips with his; alcohol induced lust daring to poke through. 

‘You were amazing up there,’ You breathed, a bashful smile appearing on Minghao’s face as you complimented him. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ 

There’s a glaze over his eyes that is somewhere between adoration and gratitude, the mixture making his chocolate eyes shine with unapologetic happiness. Instead of replying, he simply pulled you in once again, savouring the sweet taste of the plush lips you possessed. 

The whirlwind of friends and colleagues then sweeps him away, people approaching with waves of congratulatory exclamations. You leave him with a tender kiss on the cheek, a reminder of how proud you are, and then disappear off to Alice. 

With drunken confidence, the two of you dance, shaking your hair, swaying your hips, letting big hearty laughs tumble out of you. As the songs beat on, Jun and Mingyu materialise at your sides, moving exactly how they did all those years ago — Jun producing the strangest moves he could conjure, making you almost wet yourself in fits of giggles. 

As Mingyu twirls you effortlessly, your sweet-faced soon-to-be-husband arrives, sliding in close to you, his body moving like liquid against you. The sensation of his hard chest pressed against your back made tingles shoot down your spine, the familiar scent of his musky beechwood aftershave wafting over you.

‘Back already?’ you say with a turned head, only his light curtains visible as he presses tickling kisses along your neck.

‘Forgot how attractive you are when you dance like this,’ He mumbles, nipping on a spot that elicits rather inappropriate sounds from you. The heat of the bar seemed to have settled on your skin as a heavy dew, your pulse racing at a quickened pace. 

‘Hao,’ You exhale with heft, hoping the release would ease the growing heat between your legs. You lean your head into the crook of his shoulder behind you, his lips forced to disconnect with your neck as he grumbles quietly. ‘We’re in public.’ 

The shy and bashful Minghao that presented himself to the public was long gone — his shameless flirtation and risqué-nature penetrating through his persona. You knew this version of Minghao very well. It was the one shielded from his fans, one reserved specifically for you, the one that devoured you on a balcony the night of your engagement. 

And his lusty gaze made the heat pooling between your legs feel more and more bothersome. 

‘I can’t help myself,’ He says quietly, ‘you look too good, it’s driving me insane.’ His arms don’t falter from their secure place on your hips, tugging you impossibly closer. It felt like you were younger again, kissing carelessly in the club, letting the music take you both away as you indulged in one another.

‘Hao,’ A shaky breath leaves your lips, ‘We can’t exactly slip off, this is your party,’ 

With a sigh of frustration, he lands one more nip to the sweet spot on your neck, ‘We’re leaving as soon as it’s socially acceptable.’ 

It, in fact, was not socially acceptable to leave until three in the morning. In those hours, everyone had gotten impossibly drunker. Beside you, Mingyu, almost asleep, stood up, his speech slurred in that hilariously whiny way that was so reminiscent of dragging his tall frame down the dark Seoul streets. 

Minghao had hovered around, often being pulled in every direction by various guests, his gaze hot on your figure as you continued to dance or mingle. You could feel eyes burn into your body when you bent over to pick up a spilt beverage, and he used it as a convenient excuse to practically run to your side — skilfully placing himself to conceal your exposed thighs. 

Like a perfect scapegoat, Mingyu almost toppled over into both of you. The lanky man’s absent gaze was practically begging for bed, and who were you both to make him stay any longer? 

‘We should take him back to the hotel.’ You say with a pout, bidding goodbye to Jun with a tight hug. Minghao had rapidly slipped off to also spout all variations of valedictions to the remaining guests. 

Three slightly long, awkward hugs, around ten polite bows and countless ‘goodbyes’ later, you and Minghao had Mingyu slung over your shoulders, his body borderline slack between you as you both dragged him into the car. 

As much as you could mentally thank Mingyu for always drinking himself into the perfect escape plan, you didn’t want to praise him for the impending spine problems his years of drunken slackness will inevitably cause you.

There were many ways you’d rather be leaving the bar. Through a back door, hands tangled in Minghao’s mullet, tugging when his lips hit that sensitive spot on your neck. Or in a private car, just the two of you, your hand eagerly stroking torturously slowly up his thigh, skimming his crotch with routine obliviousness. 

But alas, Mingyu collapsed onto the seat with a thud, babbling incoherently as he lay his head on your lap. Minghao just tutted as he climbed into the passenger seat,  turning to see you display a shrug, raising your hands in defeat. 

Even through Mingyu's meaningless utterances, the sexual tension was rife — Minghao stayed glued to his phone, his hat low as his teeth nibbled on his lip in frustration. He was vying for a distraction, and his Instagram feed had never been so boring. 

You, on the other hand, leaned on your wrist as you watched the busy, late-night traffic blur past the window. Neon lights and hordes of bodies meshed together in the dark night, the lowlight skimming your fiancées strong jaw, which was very obviously clenched, his plump lips glowing with each passing streetlight. 

God, you were ready to devour him. 

The minutes skidded by almost painfully, Tokyo dragging through your vision with snail-like slowness. Mingyu was fast asleep on your lap, muttering to himself drunkenly — If your head wasn’t spinning with visions of the gorgeous man in the front seat, you might find this heartwarming and so reminiscent of times passed. Mingyu follows his usual routine, getting too drunk and having to be hauled home by you or whichever oblivious friend was roped in to take half of his weight. Stumbling into the hotel elevator with someone hot on his trail, apologising profusely to whichever member of the public he may have embarrassed himself in front of. Then, collapsing onto the closest comfiest surface — the hotel bed, and passing out without a word. 

It made you giggle at how his habits had never changed and how yours remained, too. Popping two painkillers onto his nightstand, filling up a cup with water. All the usual things that came as second nature. Minghao watched you closely with adoration. There wasn’t a day that he didn’t fall deeper in love with you, and today he really felt it. Even through the chaos, the stress, the pressure, your presence was ever-grounding; even if it made his brain scatter when he saw you. 

Your fiancée lingered close behind you as you clicked the door shut slowly, the dim hallway abandoned at this heinous time. The warm glow made your body shine, the expanse of your neck exposed when you swept your hair to the side, your long legs practically glistening for Minghao to ogle. He traced the curve of your waist in your tight dress, biting his lip at the swell of your ass as you twisted to look at him. 

‘Let me get out of the door first,’ You joke, recognising the lust dripping off of his gaze. Without hesitation, his tongue slipped out of his mouth, licking his lips as if you were his favourite meal. 

You were. 

The tether within Minghao had snapped, finally alone after hours of pent-up frustration, and he had you pushed up against the wall with lightning-quick agility. One strong arm wrapped tightly around your waist to pull his hips flush against yours, the other cradling your face with softness, the rough pad of his thumb savouring the feeling of your skin below it.

Without hesitation, he joined his lips to yours with desperation, his body aching to taste the alcohol on you — and now he could taste it, he felt utterly intoxicated. The plush of your lips was so familiar, but it never failed to make him feel like every hair on his body was standing on end. 

‘Hao,’ You breathed out in a quiet whine, your hands lacing through Minghao’s soft hair with an instinctive tug as he let his lips begin their assault on your neck. He knew exactly how to make you fawn, his teeth grazing your sensitive spots as he left discrete marks along your exposed shoulder. 

To be honest, he didn’t care that people were sleeping behind plywood walls; you were too delectable to treat anyone else with regard. A sick part of him wanted them to hear how good he made you feel, he wanted them to know that his fiancée would only moan like this for him for the rest of her life. 

Your nails clawed harshly at his biceps as the feeling of his lips made heat pool pathetically between your legs, his lusted-over gaze burning through you when he pulled back to examine his art. 

This was Minghao’s own personal Picasso. The sight of you, face flushed and screwn in an expression of blissful pleasure, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin as your head leaned on the dark wall behind you, the expanse of your neck exposed and actively developing little bruises. The dress, which was, quite frankly, a method of torture designed specifically to make Minghao suffer, was bunching up and revealing your hot skin to his eyes. 

‘Oh baby,’ Minghao sighs, letting his arms pull your body into his. You took advantage of his moment of weakness and began to pepper kisses up the column of his throat, trailing along his jaw and nibbling his ear gently, smirking as the skin under your fingertips rose in goosebumps. Sometimes you forgot how easily you affected him, the hotness of your breath eliciting his body to react rapidly, his eyes fluttering shut tightly as he groaned loudly and unapologetically. 

The hallway had dissolved into a desire-driven blur around you both, the almost pornographic moans tumbling out of your fiancées mouth floating you away on a cloud of pure sexual need. 

‘Baby, I need you.’ He manages to gasp out, your hand now feeling his toned stomach with daringly slow accuracy whilst your mouth continues to run circles around his brain. 

‘Can’t have me in a corridor, Hao.’ You state between sloppy kisses, not parting from his skin for longer than a few seconds. 

He turned his head and emitted a sound resembling a hiss as your mouth was forced to leave his body, ‘I’ll have you right here, sweetheart, don’t test me.’ 

The tone was icy, the dominance in his voice almost making your knees give way. His hand was resting with a strong presence on the back of your neck, his drooped eyelids penetrating you with so much intensity it was overwhelming. 

Not willing to try your luck with Minghao — Knowing he’d bunch your dress up and tear your underwear off for anyone to see, you take his wrist in your hand, dragging him to the elevator. There’s a cocky smirk that’s landed permanently on his features, his eyes watching the way your ass giggled as you jogged lightly to the end of the hallway, pulling him along. 

The doors slid shut, but before they could ring out a quiet ding! he has you pinned against the mirrored wall, his body heavy against your back. 

It’s embarrassing the way you arch into him, your breath heavy as it already begins to cloud the mirror in small hues. Behind you, he has one of your arms secured to your back, intertwining his fingers with yours in an intimate gesture. Yet, his eyes are darkened as they scan your face in the mirror, the need rife in your hooded gaze as you meet his hungry look. 

Your entire body is squashed against the mirror, making your cleavage bulge out of your skimpy dress, and Minghao can’t help but stare at it as he reattaches his mouth to your neck eagerly. The hardness of his throbbing cock is tough against your ass, and you gasp sharply when he smoothly thrusts himself against you. 

‘Look at you,’ He coos with fake sympathy dripping off every word, his mouth ruthlessly working at your exposed skin. ‘Such a greedy girl, rubbing yourself against me in public.’ 

Your fiancées taunts make you impossibly wetter, and you attempt to stifle a moan that was escaping you. Minghao pauses sharply, squinting at your already fucked out reflection. ‘It’s too late to be quiet now, baby, you’ve already let the whole floor know how good my lips make you feel.’ 

It’s embarrassing. Almost humiliating, how he has you completely at his mercy before you’ve even swiped your room key — in the elevator where anyone could see you, where any innocent passerby could watch as your fiancée ruts his stiff cock into you, when any of his members could walk in to your face flushed and already fucked out before Minghao has even touched you. 

As the elevator begins to halt, he releases his grip on you, taking your hand sweetly and pulling you into his side. It’s mind-boggling how versatile Minghao is, the doors sliding open with torturous pace as a fellow hotel guest nods politely to your fiancée, entering the space that held the ghost of said man, practically dry-humping you against the wall. 

Minghao’s grip around you was tight, his hand absentmindedly tugging your dress to cover your exposed thighs as he smiled awkwardly and bowed to the stranger, keeping your head tucked safely into the crook of his neck. 

You knew this was killing Minghao. Even the redness on your face did not compare to the restraint he was exercising with each passing moment. 

The elevator slowed once again, and Minghao couldn’t pull you out of there faster, his cock painfully hard in his trousers; he was already facing your shared room by the time the door to the elevator slid closed. 

Beep! The hotel door clicks open, and everything becomes a whirlwind. Minghao has you pressed against it with wicked ease, pulling your lips to meet his in a sloppy, needy kiss that radiates heat from him. Your hands are sliding beneath his shirt, letting your nails scratch along the toned muscles as his hand smooths over your ass, grabbing at it harshly as he attempts to pull you closer. 

Minghao’s lips are working on the sweet spot below your collarbone, tasting the skin with unfaltering intensity. You let your hands roam, tangling them in his hair, scratching at his back, squeezing at his waist — you feel every inch of him like you’re learning where everything is. 

With a rough tug, your dress is pooled around your waist, your braless chest bouncing out with the release of the cloth binding it, and Minghao lets out a long groan, his eyes closing as he lets his head slack. He is devilishly handsome, his jaw defined in the low light as it flexes at the sight of you. 

‘Sweetheart,’ He speaks whilst he inspects every inch of you closely, bringing his hot mouth to your chest once again, his tongue drawing patterns against your skin as he brings one of his hands to toy with your nipple, his long fingers working automatically to pinch and caress you. 

Loud throaty moans tumble out of you as he fails to neglect your other nipple, letting his mouth trail hot kisses around it before sucking with perfected ease. If Minghao’s arm wasn’t securely around you, the feeling would’ve made you collapse to the floor — he knew your body like the back of his hand, nipping and sucking on every single sensitive spot, touching every place that set your body on fire. Except where you needed him most. 

‘Hao,’ You moan, and he just grunts against you, not faltering for a second from his heavy assault on your chest, the sight of him devouring you almost enough to have you cumming. ‘Baby, I need-‘ 

He pulls off of your nipple with a dirty pop, his pent-up gaze watching as the pleasure drops off your face with the lack of contact. It was filthy, the arousal that pumped through him when he watched you become absolutely desperate for him. 

‘Need what baby?’ He questions, his movements so slow that they almost cease, making your eyebrows furrow and your lip jut out in a pout. Pathetically, you let your slender hand reach for the waistband of his trousers, but he’s like a hawk, pinning both of your wrists above your head. 

It’s humiliating how turned on you are — completely under his control willingly. His frame is fully clothed, whilst yours is a mess, dress in a rushed bunch around your waist, panties dripping. 

‘What do you need?’ He questions, gaze burning into you as he drags his eyes down your curves. ‘Use your words, baby.’ 

‘Need you,’ You whine, wiggling to attempt to reach for his waistband again, but his grip is steady, keeping you absolutely merciless. 

‘Need what part of me?’ He blinks, big innocent eyes staring at yours like he wasn’t already ruining you without even a touch. 

Your face is utterly flushed as embarrassment and arousal mix into a vicious vision of want, the outline of his hard cock practically pounces at you. Minghao uses this moment to let one of his big hands ghost over your panties, his touch so light that you buck your hips instantly, desperate for him to give your clit any stimulation. 

A taunting laugh escapes his lips before his ruthless mouth is back on your neck, nipping and sucking as your head falls back in pleasure. The sudden attention forces a moan to escape you, and he stops, the brief contact ripped away so savagely that your brain is fuzzy with frustration. 

‘I asked you a question, sweetheart.’ He repeats, letting your restrained hands fall as he tugs you lightly towards the bed, pausing as you near it. Without a word, he slips your bundled dress off of your frame carefully, discarding it as you kiss him, pulling his neck to yours before he even has a chance to appreciate your almost naked body. 

‘Need your cock baby,’ You mumble against his lips, and he groans at your needy answer, his pants feeling uncomfortably tight around him, and you let your nails scrape his lower abdomen in that way that has his body in shivers. 

Minghao is so enticed by you, the way your lips mingle with his effortlessly, the ways in which you know his body, the ways that can almost make him cum in his pants with just a feather-light touch. 

You’ve slyly twisted, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed, your lips not parting as you masterfully manoeuvre yourself between his solid thighs. 

Minghao thinks this might be a mirage. A vision of ecstasy in a moment of desperation. You, his beautiful fiancée, on your knees in front of him, your lips swollen from his assault on them, tiny marks along your neck from his greediness to mark you. There’s a distinct thirst in your eyes as your hands fumble with his belt, and Minghao thinks it might be the most attractive thing he’s ever seen. 

Like an expert, his belt is unbuckled, and his trousers are tugged down, your light touch carrying the weight of hours of teasing. As you let his cock spring free, he hisses, the scene in front of him so dirty he could cum right now.

Your fiancé's biceps are flexed as he holds himself up, leaning back and watching you with squinted eyes. His cock is so pretty, you sometimes forget, and it shocks you all over again – It’s pale and long, not too girthy but beautifully slender. The sight of it alone makes your pussy clench around nothing, the memories of it kissing your cervix infiltrating your mind. 

Drool pools at the corner of your lips, and without further ado, you stroke your fingertips lightly along his cock, letting your thumb drag over the tip, a string of tangled grunts tumbling out of him as you spread the leaking pre-cum down his shaft. 

After a few eager strokes, you bring your mouth to him, kitten-licking him with precision, his teeth gritted as he lets out a hiss, your warm mouth sending spikes of pleasure up his body. His cock was more than a mouthful, the salty pre-cum lathering your tongue as you gradually make your way down him, gagging as your nose grazes his stomach. 

Your engagement band glints as you grip his thigh, beginning to piston your head, throaty moans slipping out of his mouth as you take him so well. 

‘Fuck baby,’ He groans, and an involuntary sound of pleasure leaves you, your nipples perked in arousal as you speed up. Minghao runs his fingers through your soft hair delicately, the sensation prickling your skin as he gathers your locks and guides your motions with desperation. ‘You look so pretty.’ 

It was so filthy, the squelch of your mouth working against him and his heavy, breathy moans at free flow as the feeling of your tongue around him takes over. Minghao is seeing stars, the sight of you alone pushing him closer, yet alone the stimulation on his cock.

‘Baby, baby.’ He pants, his breathing climbing rapidly as his release nears, and he pulls your head away from him carefully, refusing to come from just your mouth – he needed to be inside you, watching your eyes roll back as he bottoms out. You pout, looking up at him with red cheeks, your lips glistening with his pre-cum and your spit. ‘I want to come inside you.’ 

His words make you ache, your pussy practically begging for something – anything at all. 

Minghao lifts your jaw up to his, rejoining your lips. The salty taste of himself on you infiltrates his mouth as he pulls you onto his lap, his strong arms reaching to squeeze at the expanse of your ass cheeks as his cock is trapped between you both, nudging at your clit in selfish intervals. 

‘Take this off.’ You whisper, hands already pulling at his shirt, and he whips it off, sparing only a second before his tongue is intertwined with yours again, your fingertips feeling his smooth skin and tracing his abs. 

You push his body down, crawling over him to grind your clothed entrance against his hard cock. Pretty moans falling out of you as your clit gets the stimulation it was craving, forcing your eyes to squeeze shut as your body is submerged in pleasure. Your fiancée is breathless below you, your hair dangling down into his face as your expression presents as angelic, all-consumed by pleasure. Minghao always thought you were the most beautiful woman on earth, but god, you glowed in a different way like this. 

Breathing shallowly, you continued dragging yourself against his hardness, your eyes locking with Minghaos as he tilts his head back into the mattress, his gaze lusty yet determined. Those strong arms working their way down to your wetness as you pause your movements, desperate for your fiancée to touch you. 

‘Oh my poor baby, you’re soaked,’ He said, using his middle finger to trace circles over you, the panties ruined and your thighs almost dripping. You couldn't even muster a response, his light teasing pressing all of the right spots, and you drop your head to the crook of his neck as he continues his lazy circles. ‘Do you want me to stop?’ 

You knew it was a baited question. Minghao wanted to see you squirm. 

‘No, please.’ You beg, your mouth hot against his sensitive neck as you speak into it, biting at the skin gently. 

‘Look at me.’ He says sternly. Pressing one finger into your dripping hole, pushing your panties inside you. It was ludicrous and practically a sin to be so hopelessly at his expense, but you couldn't think past how good it felt. 

‘Look at me.’ He repeats with a grit in his teeth, halting his movements to get your full attention. With a rapid snap of the neck up, your faces are inches apart, his hot breath mingling with yours as he scans your gorgeous face, your cheeks reddened, your lips jutted. 

You were so beautiful. 

‘Good girl.’ Before you can even moan, his mouth is back on yours hungrily, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he guides your soaked clit to rub against his painfully hard cock. ‘Stay just like this, baby.’ Then, in a subtle movement, he slides out from underneath you and discards the rest of his clothing, kneeling behind you. 

The heat of his body radiated as he stroked himself whilst inspecting you, wetness dripping down your spread legs, pussy gleaming with arousal. It was one of his favourite sights, and he can’t help himself as he runs his hands up and down your plush thighs, squeezing your ass and letting the cool of his metal engagement band send shivers up your spine. 

‘Hao, please.’ With desperation, you push your hips backwards, his cock brushing you, and you let out a hum of satisfaction. 

Wordlessly, Minghao begins to guide his cock into your dripping hole, the sensation of you so tight and warm around him making a heavy groan fall from his throat. Similarly, tears begin to cloud your vision as sweet relief washes over you, the feeling of him dragging against your walls combined with his throaty sounds making you dig your nails into the soft white covers. 

Slowly, he bullies his way into you, his member hitting every single spot that has you clawing desperately at anything you can. As he bottoms out with a hiss, a loud moan leaves your lips, the overwhelming feeling of his tip mingling with your cervix, making you clench around him. 

It felt insane how well his body slotted into yours. Your pussy was moulded to fit his cock, your walls hugging it in every single place. There was nothing that could compare to the feeling of being conjoined with one another, ecstasy blasting through you both as you thrive in the overwhelming feeling of one another. 

Unable to restrain himself, Minghao begins to fuck into you with a quickened pace, the room becoming a soundtrack of filthy sounds; his hips slapping your thighs, the squelch of your soaked hole, the mixture of grunts and moans the two of you emit. 

Minghao’s eyes stare as your skin jiggles with each thrust, his fingers gripping your hips so tight that bruises will blossom beneath them tomorrow. His breathing is heavy as he relishes the euphoric feeling of you bent over, receiving him so willingly and squeezing him impossibly tighter. 

The wicked thrusting has you seeing stars, the sensations overwhelming, and you start hurtling towards your release, moans running at free flow out of you as your fiancée only quickens his pace. 

‘H-Hao,’ You moan, gripping the mattress below you as if it could receive some of the immense pleasure rippling through you. 

‘Yes, baby?’ He pants out, letting one hand rub up your side in a soothing manner, his hips and arms doing completely contrasting things to your body. 

‘I’m close.’ You sputter out, lathered in his deep strokes that were practically splitting you in half. 

‘Mhm,’ He hums, only speeding up impossibly faster as he wraps a strong arm around your waist to pull you into him, not letting his cock disconnect from the comfort of your slick. 

Your head is slack on Minghao’s shoulder as he holds your back tightly to his chest, letting his hand ghost over your neck. He nips at your ear as he continues to piston into you ruthlessly, your release within an arm's reach. 

‘You’re doing so well, baby,’ Minghao whispers in your ear, tightening his grip on your neck as he chases your high. ‘Such a good girl, my good girl.’ 

That was all it took before you were tightening around him, high-pitched moans tumbling out of you. The coil within you snaps, sending your vision white, heat flushing out of you as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. 

Minghao keeps fucking you ruthlessly, holding the weight of your body as he chases his own release, small whines escaping your mouth as he overstimulates you. The grip of his hands gets tighter and tighter as he grunts in your ear, muttering incoherently as all he thinks about is how good you feel. 

‘Fuck ____.’ He gasps, his breath taken from him as he spurts inside you, his warm milky release coating your insides, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he slows. 

The room is swamped in the sound of heavy breathing, Minghao pulling out and helping you lie down gently, kissing your shoulders, all the way down your spine and then returning to kiss the crown of your head. 

‘You’re so beautiful.’ He speaks with delicate sincerity, your sleepy gaze watching his naked figure disappear off to the bathroom. 

‘I love you.’ You mumble, grinning shyly and nuzzling your face into the pillow. Your fiancée reappears with a wet towel, wiping you cautiously as he appreciates your gorgeous figure. 

‘I love you more, my love.’ He replies, Your vision became as your body relaxed into the plush mattress. With a light but solid grip, you tug him onto the bed, his musky scent washing over you once again, and you sigh happily.

‘Just cuddle me, baby.’ You murmur, tiredness taking over you as he pulls you into his chest, placing the covers over the two of you. Peppering kisses on your head, he watches you gently doze off, and his heart feels like it could burst with how much he adores you. 

Even submerged in sleep, your hand finds his, engagement rings clicking quietly together, and Minghao closes his eyes in contentment, letting sleep lull him away with you. 

As Hansol adjusted his jacket, the warmth beginning to seep through him, the lights dimmed, and the quiet tune faded. The crowd began to hoot, anticipation almost at its breaking point. A few figures appeared from the wings, throwing small smiles and shy waves at the crowd as the men, all dressed rather alternatively, approached their respective instruments, the centre stage microphone and guitar left untouched. 

The drums began to hit lightly, the bass following in a repetitive thumping pattern, a lead guitar beginning to screech in varying lengths as the song built up momentum, the instruments becoming louder and louder. Another figure appeared, long hair flowing in the dark purple stage lights as the crowd roared, the mystery figure taking up the empty spot and slinging the electric guitar over her shoulder. 

Not yet addressing the crowd, the figure began to tap various pedals with her boot as the music grew and grew, louder and tighter than before. The silhouette at the centre joined in, her guitar creating a gritty and repetitive strumming — contributing to the knife-edge the song was dancing on, the tempo picking up as the figure turned away from the crowd briefly. A jerk of a head resembling a solid nod was thrown by the darkened frame to each of her bandmates before she rapidly spun, the song reaching its breaking point as she screamed into the microphone, the lights illuminating you in a strobe fashion.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. It’s — you? 

Hansol just blinked, his mouth slack with shock. You? Like, you — the girl whom he used to sit next to every day in homeroom. The girl who always had your hair neatly tucked away in plaits. The girl who would always offer a sweet smile and a healthy conversation to Hansol. This girl, he remembered being timid, your voice always hushed, and your circle very small.

But, Hansol couldn’t quite believe his eyes right now. This was you, confidently playing and singing to your own music. Thriving and bathing in the stage lights, your face, more filled than the thirteen-year-old face Hansol remembers yet, your cheekbones were still there, ever present. Your hair flowed as you rocked lightly, singing passionately, your voice flipping almost flawlessly as the song came to an end.

Hansol was utterly mesmerised, this girl, he regarded with softness and warmth, owning the stage like it had been her home all of her life.

"Have a good night, Miss" he says, almost in a whisper "if you need anything I'll be at your door" you look at the chair that stays just besides your door where he will be and stay.

"I will" you say before running down your room.

You waste no time in taking off everything once the door is closed. The reels freeing your aching ankles, the tight gown easing your body once it's off as you relax. You take a shower, soap your body, add moisturizer and stay in your robe. When you lay down it's around eleven pm, you roll around not getting any sleep. You wait one hour more, two hours, three hours and the fourth hour made it too much to wait it full.

You get up knocking at your door from inside "Mr. K" you whisper, calling for Seungkwan.

You can hear some motion from the other side before you hear the low voice close to the wood "Is there any problem, Miss?" Seungkwan asks.

"Yeah, I can't sleep" you add and the lack of any response makes you open your door. You find Seungkwan there, he moves his chair to the side, eyes still on you

"Miss you know you can't open the door before I say it's clear" he says professionally "for safety" he adds.

"I'm sorry"

Silence again. Nothing but his burning gaze on you. You feel all heat up, his hands making a fist just above his center, the perfect posture and the head slightly up. He is just doing his job but God, he looks so good doing it.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Yes..." it comes out unstable as you feel "Please come inside, I need your help" you say opening space for him to walk inside.

Once he steps in, the door is tucked, you feel heavy gloved hands around your waist, Seungkwan turning you around, pressing himself on you on the wall besides the door.

"What took you so long?" He comes near, face close to yours "There's no one outside for the past hour, I was dying to see you" he adds and you smile.

"I'm sorry, Mr" your smile turn into a grin.

He grunts, caging your lips on his looking like a starved man who was hungry for the whole day, because he was. And God knows seungkwan is, every fucking day. Following you around for the day, walking behind you in tiny dresses and tight skirts, it drives him insane. It doesn't help when he's in front of you, your big staring eyes is the end of him and fuck that smile!

His tongue meet yours and you can feel his hardened center as he presses onto you. The kisses follow down your jaw and neck. He yanks you up, leading your bodies to the bed.

Once he lays you gently, he stays up, kicking his stompers off and pulling his heavy shirt above his head but keeping his vest because he still has to protect you and he rather be prepared. The vest covers just above his waist, you stare hungrily at the path his abs made and the vein that is popping on his left rib.

He hovers over you, undoing the knot of your robe, sliding his hands under it. He feels your warm soft skin and gasps softly. Seungkwan takes your mouth again, pulling the towel material to the side, your whole naked body exposed to him now as he caresses your sides, massages your boobs and pinch your nipples until you're pulling back moans, some dear to scape from the back of your throat. He hands follow down where you need him the most, his slim fingers gathering the wetness from your entrance and smearing on your clit, you sigh, your eyes rolling back from the sensation.

You rush to undo his pants too, sliding your hand under his boxers to bump into his length. He groans, muffling it under your neck and hair. For a while you two just stay like this, his fingers sliding inside you and bumping easily from how wet you are, the harsh material of his gloves that covers just the center of his palm and first knuckles, keeps slapping your sensitive muscle as you back arches from how good it feels.

"Please, kwannie" you moan.

"That's the name I like to your hear you say" Seungkwan praises at the nickname on the tip of your tongue.

He pulls up just to slide his boxers and pants down his knees. You get a condom from the drawer, opening the backage for him. He takes it, handing his base and it down his length. You want to suck him and lick the prominent veins, and want him to eat you out too and cum on his tongue but you know time is priceless right now and soon is morning.

He goes back to you, hoisting your ankles on the bed before handing your legs with his arms under your thighs. You feel his tip press on your entrance, handing his shoulders, and pulling your hips to help yourself take him. He slides inside until his head is poking inside you. You feel your heart race and walls clench around him as he waits. Seungkwan stares down at your connected bodies, panting, drawing circles on your clit again with the tip of his fingers. You squirm and relax around his thickness, starting to roll your hips to urge him to move. He sees your signs, pulling it slightly to dive back inside with a harsh thrust. Each time he pulls back a bit more until he's leaving just the head and bumping inside with deep thrusts.

You meet up his thrusts, both of you trying to stay quiet and not taking it too fast, not make many sounds. Your moans are quiet whimpers as Seungkwan stares at your lip in between your teeth and brows shut in pure pleasure, your small tits bouncing each thrust he gives.

"Shit, YN" he lets out "You are beautiful" he praises, white knuckles on your thighs.

You feel the pressure on your lower belly, your clit hardening and aching a bit, you're gonna cum. Seungkwan feels everything, the way you keep clenching his twitching cock.

He leaves your thighs to hand your hips, pulling it up, it makes you take more of him, one thrust and your head is going back. He's loosing it too, can't help fastening his pace, one of his palms coming to press around the neck you just exposed to him. The air is cut the slightest but it's enough to make you come undone.

You moan for real this time and seungkwan takes your mouth in a messy tongue kiss, trying to muffle his whimpers too. You cum and he does right after you, the wet sounds are rather loud as he drives your high and wet pussy. Seungkwan cums with a groan on your lips, his veins pulsating as he wets the condom.

For awhile you just stay there, getting your breathing back to normal, before Seungkwan is sliding out, your arousal making a mess on the sheets under you. He scoffs smirking at the view.

Seungkwan gets up to take the condom out and put it in the trash bin, sliding his pants back up. He goes to the fridge on your room, filling a cup with water. He sits on the side end of the bed, handing it to you. He watches you drinking, taking his shirt and tugging it back in.

You hand the empty glass, thanking him. He comes near, leaving a sweet kiss to your lips. He hands your jaw and makes you look at him "I'm going" he says and you feel your heart squeeze a bit "I'll be just outside, you can call me" he adds and you nod.

He gets up, leaving the cup above the fridge. Stepping on the bathroom just to wash the sex out off his face.

"Tomorrow if anyone watch the security cameras on the hallway and ask anything, you gonna say you had trouble sleeping and asked for help. I made you a hot water pack and help you finding sleeping pills and waited until you slept to leave the room" He explains so you don't get your stories mixed up on this strange forbidden thing you had started "got it?"

"Yes, Mr. K" That damn name again, Seungkwan hates it.