#mingyu fluff

He stands in the middle of the kitchen, sticking out like a sore thumb and drawing stares from every worker. You keep your head down, cheeks burning under their whispers. Royals do not belong here. Not once have you seen one step foot in these quarters in the twenty something years you have been here.

His presence has already piqued too much curiosity. You wipe your flour-dusted hands on your apron and untie it with stiff fingers.

“This way,” you mutter, already turning.

Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up. The silence stretches half a second too long before you realise your mistake.

“Your Highness,” you add quickly, the correction clumsy and too late.

He gives you that annoyingly charming smile—the one that says he noticed your slip and is quietly enjoying how flustered he still makes you.

Just like all those times before, you lead him toward the dim space beneath the grand staircase. The corridor between the storage shelves feels narrower than usual. Your heart pounds so hard it drowns out the clatter of pans behind you.

It has been weeks. Weeks of avoiding him since the engagement was announced. Weeks of hell.

The moment you slip into the shadowed gap, Mingyu turns. His hand finds the back of your neck, firm and certain, and kisses you without a word. Everything you rehearsed vanishes. You burn under his mouth. Your fingers push into his hair as his hands grip your waist, pressing your back to the wall. The faint sounds of the kitchen fade. He kisses you like he’s starving, tongue sliding against yours, body pinning you in place. He moans at the taste of lemon and lavender still on your tongue.

Prince Mingyu’s thumb traces your jaw. You hate how easily you open for him, how your bodies still know every line of each other.

“I see you’ve become acquainted with Lord Wonwoo recently,” he murmurs against your lips, voice low and rough. His breath is hot, mingling with yours. “Tell me… did his hands learn the shape of you the way mine have?”

You blink, dazed, the world narrowing to the heat of his body pressed flush against yours.

“You’re engaged to be wed soon, Your Highness.” The title slips out like a blade, detached and void of any warmth. “This has to stop.”

“You never call me that when we are alone,” Mingyu says, voice laced with an unfamiliar kind of roughness. His gaze drops to your mouth, then slowly drags back up your face.

“I take it that you must be quite upset with me then.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering at the sensitive skin just beneath it. The touch is so tender it almost hurts.

“What is this really about?” you demand, frustration cracking through the haze of want. Your hands fist tighter in the front of his tunic, unsure whether to push him away or drag him closer.

He ignores the question. Before you can even think of replying, his mouth claims yours again. He kisses you like he’s hunting for answers, tongue teasing along the seam of your lips until you part for him with a soft, involuntary sound.

One hand cups the back of your neck, holding you exactly where he wants you, while the other grips your waist and pulls your hips flush against his. You can feel the restrained tension in every inch of his body. He breaks away just enough to speak against your lips, breath ragged.

“Wonwoo,” he whispers, “Did that bastard kiss you like this?” Another slow, consuming kiss follows. His palm slides up your side, slow and possessive, thumb brushing dangerously close to the curve of your breast. You arch into the touch despite yourself.

Mingyu notices. Of course he does. His grip on you tightens.

“Did he touch you here?” he whispers hotly against your ear, teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below it. He shifts the fabric of your dress aside. “Tell me he didn’t kiss you here.”

His mouth finds the spot just above your collarbone, hot and open, sucking until your knees weaken and a sharp breath escapes you. His hand slides down your side, gripping your hip hard, pulling you flush against him so you can feel exactly how much he wants you. His thigh nudges between yours, rocking slowly.

“Or here,” he murmurs, lips dragging to the dip of your shoulder. He presses his body tighter, sucking harder, like he wants the mark to linger.

“He did,” you manage, steeling yourself. Maybe the lie would make it easier — a clean cut to sever the chains of his dangerous charm. “But the difference is that I actually felt something when Wonwoo kissed me.”

The words settle between you like falling ash.

For the first time since he had found you, Mingyu’s composure cracks.

“You can’t even look me in the eye as you say that,” he challenges, voice low and raw. He stays pressed against you, forehead resting against your shoulder as he breathes you in. Then his hand slips fully beneath your skirt, fingers tracing up your bare thigh until they find the aching heat between your legs. He presses two fingers against your soaked folds, stroking slowly, reverently, as though memorizing the proof of your desire.

A low, satisfied sound rumbles in his throat. He knows he still owns this part of you. Even the smallest surrender is enough to feed the addiction raging inside him.

“Choose,” he says against your skin, the words both plea and ultimatum. “Tell me right now that he makes you feel like this and I’ll walk away. But if you stay silent… if your body keeps telling me the truth…”

You shake your head desperately, voice cracking. “I cannot lie to you, Mingyu. I never could. But this… this cannot happen. You know it cannot.”

“Why must you push me away?” His eyes are glassy, shimmering with raw desperation as he slowly withdraws his fingers. The sudden emptiness leaves you aching, hollow.

“I cannot breathe when you are not near me,” he breathes against your skin, voice rough and fractured. “You are the only real thing I have in this cage. You think Wonwoo can give you what you need?”

“Our fates were already chosen,” you whisper, the words heavy on your tongue. “Nothing more can be done.”

“Fine,” Mingyu says, the single word laced with bitter resignation. His eyes darken with pain, jaw tight, as if the acceptance costs him everything. “Be with Wonwoo, but God forbid any man dare to utter your name with the same love I hold for you.”

The words fall like a curse and a vow all at once, his voice breaking on the edge of something dangerously close to ruin.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat softly, the apology tasting like defeat. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”

Your hands fist tighter in his shirt. Another broken sound slips from your throat. Every atom in your body swells with something vast and terrifying you do not dare to name. You cannot afford these feelings. You were not born into wealth or title. All of this is meaningless — a fleeting, impossible dream that would only ruin you both in the end.

He doesn’t give you time to say anything more. With visible torment, he forces himself to pull back. The sudden space between your bodies feels like winter’s bite.

“That’s all I needed to know,” he says quietly, voice hoarse.

gyu<3 : all the best for your presentation!

you ignored the message. your team was next, you were sweating profusely, almost going through all stages of panic. you knew you could not mess this presentation up after all the long nights put into preparing the deck and research, but most importantly because it carried a major chunk of your final grade. you are surviving on water and a piece of toast that mingyu had worriedly fed you before he left for his practice early morning. you knew you are going to get a whole lecture on sleep schedule and pulling all nighters now but all that didn't matter right now.

you get on the stage trying your best to maintain your composure, practicing deep breaths just the way he taught you, and finally it was your turn. you step forward and blank out. you were only able to explain few points in broken voice, it was clear that you have messed it up now and the realization makes you feel more stressed. your teammates try to cover it up for you but that didn't help much.

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mingyu phone buzzed while he was at practice. he was looking forward to your text back. he excuses himself and checks for the messages. he saw name and immediately lit up.

you: it went bad.

the smile disappeared. he stared at the screen and typed back.

gyu<3 : how bad?

he waits for your reply but didn't get any. he knew you were probably going through a spiral of emotions right now. he saw how much you worked for that, so much so that you had to be constantly reminded to take care of yourself. he was happy that he was there this time unlike the other times when you had buried yourself in work while he was touring. he plans to leave practice early to ensure that you get the most pampering and rest today.

you enter your house after attending your classes and a long day of self criticism. you smell freshly cooked food and saw the mingyu trying to arrange a bouquet of zinnias for you. he stood at the kitchen island, completely focused, tongue peeking out in concentration as he carefully rearranged bright flowers into a glass vase.

he frowned. moved one flower, stepped back. "no", he says as he tries to rearrange it again. "better now", he says as he sees you and comes forward for a warm hug, and before you know you had broken down.you look up with your eyes red, and exhaustion written all over your face. his face sank the moment he saw your tired face.

he walks over to the fridge and gets you a drink to calm down. "babe, you want to talk about it?" he asks while keeping you close. you sniffled and gave a small nod. "i embarrassed myself" you say breaking down again.

"you didn't"

"i forgot everything, my teammates had to save me, im stupid and -" mingyu tilts his head seeming offended by the last sentence. "no way jose" he says mimicking the way you say it whenever you found something absurd, and he was happy to hear a chuckle out of you.

"i worked my ass off, barely slept, wanted it to be perfect and all i get it this. i dont even think anyone would like to even group with me now" you say as you try to control your emotions.

"it was one bad day, baby" he says leaning his forehead against yours smiling just enough to make you feel safe and comforted. "and if anyone refuses to group with you after one presentation", he shrugged dramatically, "its their loss"

you huffed out a laugh through your tears. "there she is" he gently kisses you as he rubs your back to get you to relax. "i've been waiting for my girl to come back" he says giggling.

"thanks for being here with me" you say feeling grateful. mingyu looks at you, "always baby" he says peppering your face with kisses.

"the zinnias are pretty"

"they reminded me of you" he says admiring you.

mrrow!, both of you looked toward the kitchen. your orange tabby was perched proudly on the counter, one tiny paw reaching suspiciously close to the bouquet of zinnias.

"mushu!" mingyu warned and the cat froze. then, maintaining eye contact with both of you, slowly pushed one flower onto the floor. "did she just?" you ask shocked. "she absolutely did" ,mingyu sighed dramatically and stood up. "you tiny criminal", he says trying to clean up the mess. "so that's why it's been quiet" ,he muttered, jogging after your nine pound menace.

Y/N knew she never really belonged from the moment she was of the appropriate age to grasp her position relative to the others in the palace hierarchy. The palace was more than a series of rooms with polished floors and golden doors. It was a force to be reckoned with—the home of kings and the place of power and prestige she could never fully share. Nor did Y/N feel like she belonged as a child, not with the way people talked softly as members of the royal family walked by, not with the way people smiled too nicely to be real. Yet she was close enough to touch—but separated from the throne by her very birth and background.

That had been precisely why meeting Prince Mingyu was so terrifying.

At seven years old, she had been standing in the eastern courtyard, her nervous hands twisting at the fabric of her sleeve as she waited to be presented. She had bowed so low when the crown prince came, escorted by attendants and advisors, that she nearly stumbled.

“I am Y/N of House—” she started, her voice quivering.

“You're going to hurt your neck if you keep doing that.”

The voice, however, was calm, curious rather than commanding.

She looked up in surprise.

Mingyu was not what she had expected.

He was a tall child for his age, dark hair hanging loosely over his eyes, which sparkled with intelligence, wearing robes far too ornate for a boy who looked so… ordinary. Not cruel, exactly, and certainly not distant. Just a boy who was more interested in studying her expression than in proclaiming his own importance.

“I’m the prince,” he went on, angling his head, “but you don’t have to look as though you’re about to faint.”

Her cheeks were burning. “I’m sorry, Your Highness,”

"Don't call me that," he replied immediately. "Call me Mingyu."

She hesitated. “I… can't”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the crown prince.”

He frowned as if she had said something unreasonable to him. 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Friends.

Never had anyone proposed anything like that before.

Over the following years, Mingyu proved himself to be serious.

He pursued her relentlessly.

Whenever his tutors in court would dismiss their classes, he would show up at her side. Whenever his dinners at formal banquets were a bore, he'd slip out and look for her elsewhere. And whenever nobles whispered to him about suitable future alliances, he ignored them and spent afternoons racing her through palace gardens instead.

She was only a noble daughter to the rest.

For him, she was just Y/N.

The person who laughed at his jokes.

Who had listened when he'd vented about those etiquette lessons

The one who, upon noticing, kept silently by his side when he felt overwhelmed.

Sometimes, she wondered if he even remembered that he was a prince.

The promise happened on one afternoon in late summer.

They were ten in number.

The magnolia tree beside the west wing was in full bloom, its petals drifting lazily in the air. They sat beneath it, backs against the trunk, parchment and ink scattered between them. Mingyu was tasked to practice his calligraphy. Y/N had volunteered to help.

Actually, he was procrastinating.

"This is impossible," he muttered, staring at his crooked characters. "Why does everything have to be perfect?"

She smiled softly. “Because someday you’re going to be king.”

He fell silent at that.

“I don’t want to,” he replied after a moment.

She faced him. “What?”

"I don't want to marry a person that I don't know. I don't want people deciding my life for me.” He hesitated, then added in a small voice, “I don't want to lose you.”

Her heart hiccupped.

“Mingyu…?”

He picked up a piece of parchment and, with fumbling fingers, attempted to fold it. 

“If we promise to marry each other, they can’t force us, right?”

She stared.

“Marry…?”

“Yes.” He set the lopsided paper crown on her head. “Then you’ll be my queen.

She felt the heat rise to her face. 

“That’s silly.”

"Is it?"

She looked at him.

Really looked.

In seriousness gone in his eyes, in the vulnerability he did not even try to veil, in a waiting-like-it-depended-on-more-than-anything-else attitude that was all his.

So, she held out her pinky.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I promise.”

He interlaced his finger with hers as a wave of relief washed over his features.

“I won’t forget,” he whispered.

She believed him.

She just didn’t know how right that would be.

Time did not change the palace.

It only changed them.

When she had finally turned nineteen, she had learned how to walk through marble halls without appearing to be lost, how to smile correctly at people who assessed her as if she were a prize to be won, and how to sit through innumerable banquets without appearing tired. The years had molded her into the perfect picture of refinement and poise, as if she were the very epitome of her family's name.

However, Mingyu had undergone a transformation

He was no longer the boy who climbed trees and folded paper crowns.

He was the crown prince.

Tall, broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, and impossibly handsome in his formal robes. When he entered a room, conversations softened automatically. Ministers stood up. Nobles bowed. Even seasoned diplomats measured their words.

And yet…

But with her, he was still Mingyu.

At least, he tried to be.

They sat together in the palace library, where sun filtered in through the high windows, spilling down onto the long tables of wood. They had books opened on the table between them, but neither was reading recently.

Y/N appeared to be reading a historical text.

Mingyu was pretending not to stare at her.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, turning a page.

“So have you,” he replied.

“That’s because I'm studying.”

He huffed softly. “You’ve read the same paragraph three times.”

She stopped, “You noticed?”

“I always notice,” he said, before thinking.

He quickly looked away.

Her lips were slightly curved. “You’re being strange again.”

“I’m not”

“You are.”

He shifted in his seat. “Am I not allowed to be strange now?”

"You’re allowed," she said softly. "I just want to know why."

He never replied.

For how could he tell her that every time he looked at her, something in his chest tightened?

The way she laughed, the way she fixed her hair behind her ear, her confident conversation with diplomats and politicians—all of this reminded him of the fact that she was becoming a young woman the whole court would want.

Someone he might not be allowed to keep.

The first proposal was received two weeks later.

It came in the form of a letter, well-written and bearing the crest of House Kim.

She found out during afternoon tea.

Her mother’s eyes sparkled with barely suppressed excitement. "They are very respectable." She added, "And their eldest son is well-educated.”

Y/N almost dropped her cup.

"Proposal?" she echoed faintly.

“Yes, dear. It’s time.”

Time.

The word resounded within her brain.

She walked in a daze that evening through the gardens, hardly aware of the chill in the breeze or the lanterns as they flickered into life.

She called, "Mingyu," as she caught his figure near the pavilion.

He turned around at once.

One look into her face and he knew.

“What happened?”

She hedged. “I got… a marriage proposal to my family.”

Silence.

Pure, stifling silence.

"From who?" he asked more cautiously.

“House Kim.”

His jaw tightened.

“Ambitious,” he grumbled. “Their son is arrogant.” 

“You’ve never met him.”

“I know his type.”

She frowned. “You’re being unfair.”

“Am I?” he snapped, then caught himself. 

“I mean… you deserve better.”

Better than what

Better than him?

The thought constricted his chest.

And more came forward during the weeks.

At banquets.

In ceremonies.

Informal functions and parties.

They bowed to her.

Complimented her.

Tried to impress her.

And Mingyu watched.

Every

Single.

Time.

He stood beside her, posture perfect, expression unreadable, eyes dark with something dangerously close to jealousy.

When Lord Park praised her about her intelligence, he told him about the recent political scandal that involved him.

When Count Seo asked her to have tea, Mingyu schooled him on royal etiquette.

When the other aristocrat sought to monopolize her attention, Mingyu casually positioned herself between them.

Casualty

Politely

Territorially 

“Do you have to do that?” she whispered one evening.

“Do what?”

“Scare everyone away.”

“I’m not”

“You glared at Lord Min for five minutes.”

“He was standing too close.”

She looked at him in astonishment.

Possibly.

But he couldn’t stop.

Mingyu was alone, seated in his chambers, looking at the moon through the windows, which were quite tall.

He still remembered her pinky promise.

Her small hand in his.

Her soft voice said, “I promise.”

What if it meant nothing to her?

Had it just been of importance to him?

He placed his hand on his chest.

“Don’t forget,” he whispered to the empty room.

“Becuase I didn’t”

By the time summer was in full swing, Y/N was exhausted.

Not physically, of course—but emotionally, certainly. Every week, another invitation, another letter, another optimistic family exploring the possibilities. She smiled and said no, whenever possible, politely, but also listened patiently to her parents' explanations that this was the way the world worked.

What she hadn’t expected, however, was Mingyu.

More specifically, she hadn’t anticipated that he would be such a problem.

He was everywhere.

When she was invited to a luncheon, he was at her side.

If she were to walk through the garden, he somehow found her.

If she talked to a nobleman longer than one minute, Mingyu immediately became part of the conversation.

Always polite.

Always calm.

Always impossible to ignore.

At first, she thought that she was imagining it.

However, after the fourth “coincidental” interruption that week, she couldn’t deny it anymore.

She finally confronted him on a quiet afternoon in the inner garden.

The location was almost deserted, and it was shaded by very tall trees and a small stream. This was the location they used to hide as kids whenever they wanted to avoid their tutors.

Now, it felt heavier.

“Mingyu,” she called.

He stopped walking.

“Yes”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I'm not.”

“You are,” she said insistently. “Every time I try to speak to you properly, you disappear. And every time I want to speak to anyone else, you appear.”

He looked away.

“That’s not true.”

“Then explain.”

Silence.

The sound of the water trickling softly filled the space between them.

“I don't like them,” he finally muttered.

“Who?”

“The men who keep circling you.”

She crossed her arms. "That's not your decision."

"I know," he snapped. And then, quieter, "That’s the problem."

Her chest tightened.

“Mingyu… what is going on with you?”

He clenched his fists at his sides.

How would he tell her that every smile she gave another felt like a knife?

How could he confess that, each night, he lay awake and imagined a future where she belonged to someone who wasn’t him?

She breathed slowly. “Look. I know things are changing. We’re not kids anymore.”

His heart sank.

“But you’ve been acting like…” She tried to think of the right word. “Like you’re angry at me.”

“I'm not angry at you.”

“Then why does it feel like you are?”

“Because I’m terrified,” he thought.

Instead, he said nothing.

Frustration had been brewing inside her

“You know, maybe you’re holding onto things too tightly,” she said, more sharply than she meant to. “Like that promise we made.”

He stopped.

Her stomach fell slightly at the sudden pause, but she continued.

“That was years ago. We were children. It was just a childish promise.”

The words echoed.

Childish

Promise.

Just.

He felt as if the ground had disappeared beneath him.

“…Just?” he repeated quietly.

She hesitated. “I didn’t mean—”

“Did it mean anything to you?” he asked.

She opened her mouth.

Closed it.

“I… I don’t know,” she admitted. “We were ten, Mingyu. We didn’t understand anything back then.”

He laughed softly.

It was a broken sound.

“I did,” he said.

She looked up at him.

His eyes were dark, unreadable, full of something dangerous, close to hurt.

"I recognized that … I didn’t want to lose you," he added. "And I still don’t."

Her breath caught.

“Mingyu..”

“I know it’s stupid,” he went on quickly. “I know I’m not supposed to feel this way. I know you deserve choices and freedoms and everything I can’t promise you. But don’t tell me it meant nothing”

“I never said that,” she whispered.

“But you implied it.”

Silence resumed between them, this time more oppressive.

That night, Y/N couldn’t sleep.

She would lie there staring at the ceiling and thinking of what he said.

“I still don’t want to lose you.”

Was he really carrying that promise on his back the whole time?

Meanwhile, Mingyu was on his balcony, gazing at the same moon.

For the first time in years, he wondered whether he had been loving her alone.

The Festival of Royal Lanterns was meant to be a celebration.

Once a year, the palace became an ocean of light. Thousands of lanterns were threaded through courtyards and onto balconies, glowing softly against the night sky. Musicians filled the air with soft music, and nobles dressed in their finest silks came to socialize under shimmering banners.

It was a night of happiness for most people.

For Y/N, this was torture.

She stood beside her parents near the main pavilion, hands folded neatly in front of her, smile carefully practiced. On the surface, she looked composed and elegant, just as a noblewoman should.

Inside, she was coming undone.

Across the courtyard, Mingyu sat on the elevated royal platform beside his parents, posture perfect, expression composed. He laughed at the right moments, nodded when ministers spoke to him, and accepted greetings with nothing but effortless grace.

He did not look up at her.

Not once.

And that hurt more than all his jealousy ever had.

Since they'd argued in the garden, something had shifted between them. He'd grown distant-polite and respectful, and unbearably formal. No more catching her eye and holding it. No more quiet conversations. No more walking beside her without thinking. 

It was as if I was losing him slowly.

“Y/n”

She turned to find Lord Jang standing beside her, with a bright smile on his face.

“I was hoping to speak with you tonight,” he said. “May I?”

She tried to nod her head. "Of course."

They walked towards a quieter area of the courtyard, far from the central crowd. Lanterns were floating above them, and they illuminated the pathway with a certain kind of glow.

“You look lovely this evening,” he said.

"Thank you," she answered reflexively.

He paused, then said, “My family is very interested in strengthening our ties with your family. I was wondering if you might consider—”

Such words she barely heard.

As she felt it.

A presence.

She glanced up.

Mingyu stood at the edge of the platform, looking directly at them.

His hands were clenched at his sides.

His jaw was tight.

And his eyes—

They were full of something dangerously close to desperation.

Mingyu hadn’t planned to do this.

He had vowed to himself that he would behave. That he would be mature. That he would respect her choices, even if those choices destroyed him.

But watching another man lean close to her, hearing her soft laughter, seeing her look at someone else the way she used to look at him—

It broke something.

He suddenly got up to his feet.

The sudden movement called for attention.

Ministers stopped talking in mid-conversation.

Nobles turned.

The music softened.

Down the platform and across the courtyard Mingyu came before anyone had time to raise a hand.

Straight at her.

"Y/N."

She started.

“Mingyu?”

"May I speak with you?" he asked.

He sounded courteous.

His eyes were not.

Lord Jang faltered. “Your Highness, I was—”

“I'll be back in a minute,” Y/N said in a hurry, noticing how much tension was in the room. “Excuse us.”

She followed Mingyu down as he led her beneath a cluster of lanterns near the central fountain.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I tried not to, I really did.”

“Tried not to do what?”

“I love you.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

He fully turned to face her.

People around them had begun to take cognizance.

Whispers spread.

But he didn’t care anymore.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” he continued. “I never stopped. Not for a day. I thought I could hide it. I thought I could let you go if that’s what you wanted. But I can’t.”

 Her eyes stood out.

“Mingyu, everybody is watching—”

“Let them.”

His voice fluttered.

“I know I am selfish. I know I am risking everything, but every part of watching you choose someone else hurts more than any form of punishment I could face.

He took a shaky breath.

“That promise wasn’t childish to me. It was my future. You were my future.”

There was silence in the courtyard.

Lanterns flickered.

All music had ceased.

All the eyes were on them.

The workpage.

Y/N felt the world shrink to just them.

“You… you’ve been suffering alone?” she whispered.

He nodded slightly. “I didn’t want to burden you.”

Hot tears pricked the backs of her eyes.

“You idiot,” she whispered.

He blinked. “What?”

“You should have told me”

She drew closer.

"I was confused. I didn't know what I felt. But hearing you say this… knowing you've loved me all this time…"

She reached for his sleeve.

Her fingers shook.Mingyu… I think I’ve been in love with you too. I was just too scared to realize it.”

His breath caught.

“Y/N…”

The crowd erupted into murmurs.

Shock.

Disbelief.

Hope.

But neither of them noticed.

They only saw each other.

The palace had never felt so loud.

Even after the music began again, and servants made an effort to recreate the festive atmosphere, the air remained heavy with whispers. The nobility talked in clusters, their whispers hidden by their fans made of silk. The clergy looked at each other nervously, while court servants did their best not to stare.

A public confession by the Crown Prince had not been on the schedule that evening.

And certainly not one involving a noble woman with no royal blood.

Y/N hardly noticed any of this.

She remained standing around the lanterns, her heart pounding, fingers tentatively holding onto Mingyu’s sleeve, as if releasing it would cause everything around her to shatter.

He hadn’t moved.

Neither had she.

They stood there for a few seconds staring at each other in a mixture of relief and disbelief.

“You… you meant that,” she finally whispered.

Mingyu took a nervous breath. “Every word.”

His voice was softer now, absent the earlier intensity. Without the boost of confession and the adrenaline that came with it, the man suddenly appeared weak; almost fragile.

“I’m sorry for doing this in front of everyone,” he said, as if in apology. “I.. I was afraid that if I were to wait longer, I’d lose my courage.”

She relented.

“You’ve always been brave,” she said. 

“Just. not when it comes to feelings.”

He laughed weakly. "That obvious?"

“Yes”

They were interrupted by footsteps.

Mingyu’s father, the king, was walking towards him slowly, accompanied by two advisors on either side. Though his expression couldn’t be gauged, this actually made things even worse

Mingyu stood up at once and instinctively placed himself in front of her.

“Father,” he said.

The king studied both of them for a long moment.

“You caused quite a disturbance,” he remarked casually.

“I know,” Mingyu said. “And I accept whatever consequences—”

“Later,” the king interrupted.

Both of them blinked.

“This evening is a celebration,” said the king, “and will not be turned into a spectacle of discipline. A private discussion can be arranged for tomorrow.”

He looked at Y/N.

“Return to your family. Safely.”

Then he walked away.

Just like that.

Her knees were about to collapse.

Mingyu took a breath of relief. “We survived… for now.”

She laughed nervously. “Is it strange that I’m more scared of tomorrow than I was of tonight?”

“Not strange,” he admitted. “I’m terrified”

Later the same evening, after the majority of the guests had left and the palace became quiet, Mingyu quietly asked her to join him on the eastern terrace.

One of the few locations from which one could see both the city and the gardens. It was a place of night-time solitude, isolated from politics and court expectations.

She arrived first.

Lantern light flickered across the stone railings, and the distant stars shone through faintly in the palace pond below.

When Mingyu joined her, he looked different.

No crown.

No formal robes.

Just simple clothing, tired eyes.

“You came,” he said softly.

“Of course,” she replied.

They stood side by side and gazed out at the distant lights.

For once, there was no audience.

No titles.

No pressure.

Just them.

"I kept thinking you’d forget," confessed Mingyu.

“Forget what?”

“Us. The promise. Me.”

She turned to him. “Why would I forget you?”

"Because you’re strong," he said. "You adapt. You move forward. And I… I stayed stuck."

Her chest tightened.

“You weren't stuck,” she said. “You were waiting.”

He looked at her.

Really looked.

As if she were trying to memorize her face.

"I waited because loving you was the only thing that felt certain," he confessed.

"Everything else in my life changes. Politics. Alliances. Expectations.

"But you… you were always you."

Her eyes stung.

“Mingyu… you’re unfair,” she

“How?”

“You make it impossible not to love you back.”

He smiled softly.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Silence reigned once more between them.

Not awkward.

Comfortable

Charged

She saw he was standing very close.

Close enough that their sleeves brushed.

Close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body.

Her heartbeat quickened.

“Mingyu,” she

“Yes?”

“What happens now?”

He hesitated.

"Tomorrow, I'll speak to my parents. I'll fight if I must." He looked at her intently. "I'll not let them dictate our future without us."

Her breath caught.

“You’d really do that?”

“For you?” he replied immediately. “Always.”

She reached for his hand.

This time, he didn’t freeze.

He fit their fingers together naturally, as if he had been waiting for years to do this correctly.

His thumb caressed hers gently over her knuckles.

The small action caused shivers down her spine.

Notably

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he stepped closer.

“May I…?” he asked.

She nodded.

He raised his free hand and gently pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear with tender consideration. His caress stayed a fraction longer than it needed to.

They were now inches apart.

She could feel his breath.

He saw the way her lips were slightly parted.

Time seemed to stretch.

“I've wanted this so long,” he whispered.

"So have I," she replied.

He moved closer.

Slowly

Gently

Their foreheads met.

Their noses touched.

One more breath.

One more inch—

And the world faded away.

Their lips met in a kiss that was soft at first, like the brush of silk against skin. Mingyu's mouth pressed against hers with a reverence that made her heart swell, his lips warm and yielding. She sighed into him, her free hand rising to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath the simple fabric of his tunic.

He deepened the kiss slowly, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she parted them, inviting him in. Their tongues met tentatively, exploring with gentle strokes that sent sparks of warmth pooling in her belly. His hand, the one not entwined with hers, slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer until their bodies aligned, her curves fitting against the solid lines of his frame.

The night air cooled their heated skin, but the warmth between them built steadily. Mingyu broke the kiss only to trail his lips along her jawline, nipping softly at the sensitive spot below her ear. She tilted her head back, exposing her neck to him, and he accepted the offering with feather-light kisses that made her knees weaken.

"You're everything," he murmured against her skin, his voice husky with emotion. His fingers splayed across her back, holding her steady as she leaned into him. She could feel the evidence of his desire pressing against her hip, firm and insistent, but he made no rush to act on it. Instead, he returned to her mouth, kissing her with a hunger tempered by tenderness, his tongue delving deeper now, tasting her fully.

Her hands roamed up his arms, gripping the muscles there, then to his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. The terrace's stone railing dug into her side, but she barely noticed, lost in the sensation of his body molding to hers. Mingyu's thumb continued its lazy circles on her hand, grounding them even as passion ignited.

He pulled back slightly, his tired eyes now dark with longing as they searched hers. "Tell me if it's too much," he whispered, though his breath came ragged.

She shook her head, her fingers threading into his hair. "Never too much. Not with you."

Emboldened, he kissed her again, this time letting his hand drift from her back to her waist, his palm slipping beneath the edge of her outer robe to caress the soft fabric of her inner layer. The touch was electric, intimate in its simplicity. She arched into him, her breasts pressing against his chest, nipples hardening at the friction.

Slowly, he guided her hand from his hair to his neck, then lower, encouraging her to feel the heat of his skin where his collar gaped open. Her fingertips brushed the pulse at his throat, then dipped inside, tracing the line of his collarbone. Mingyu groaned softly into her mouth, the sound vibrating through her.

They shifted together, his body backing hers gently against the railing. The city lights twinkled far below, indifferent to their private world. His free hand cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her flushed skin as he kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her eyelid.

"I need to touch you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes pleaded for permission, even as his body trembled with restraint.

She nodded, her own desire mirroring his. "Please."

With deliberate care, he untied the sash of her robe, letting the fabric part just enough to reveal the curve of her shoulder and the swell of her breast beneath her undergarment. His fingers trembled as he traced the exposed skin, goosebumps rising in their wake. Leaning down, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of her skin.

She gasped, her hand tightening in his. The sensation traveled straight to her core, a slow ache building between her thighs. Mingyu's lips continued their descent, kissing along the edge of her undergarment until he nuzzled the soft mound of her breast. He didn't pull the fabric away yet, content to tease with breaths and light sucks through the thin material, making her nipple peak even harder.

Her body responded instinctively, hips shifting forward to seek more contact. He felt it, pressing his thigh between her legs, offering gentle pressure against her growing wetness. She rocked against him subtly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her.

Mingyu lifted his head, capturing her lips once more in a kiss that was deeper, more urgent, but still laced with that profound gentleness. His hand finally slipped inside her robe, cupping her breast fully, thumb circling her nipple with exquisite slowness. She moaned into his mouth, the sound swallowed by their kiss.

Time blurred as they explored each other like this—hands wandering, lips meeting, bodies pressing closer. He whispered endearments against her skin, promises of forever mingling with the soft sounds of their shared breaths. The stars above seemed brighter, the pond below a mirror to their unfolding intimacy.

When he finally eased her robe further open, exposing her to the night air, he paused to admire her, his gaze filled with awe. "Beautiful," he breathed, before lowering his head to take her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

Pleasure arched through her like a bolt, her back bowing off the stone railing as Mingyu's mouth latched onto her nipple, sucking hard now, teeth grazing the stiff peak. He pulled back just enough to let it pop free with a wet smack, then dove back in, tongue lashing the sensitive bud while his hand kneaded her other breast, pinching the nipple between his fingers until she whimpered.

Her pussy throbbed, slick heat soaking through her undergarments, and she ground harder against his thigh, chasing the friction. Mingyu growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her skin as he switched sides, sucking her other nipple into his mouth with the same relentless hunger. His free hand roamed lower, shoving her robe fully open and yanking at the ties of her inner layers until fabric pooled at her waist, exposing her completely to the cool night air.

“Fuck, you're so wet already,” he muttered, his voice rough as he slid his hand between her thighs, fingers brushing over the damp silk covering her pussy. She gasped, hips bucking forward, and he didn't hesitate—pushing the fabric aside to plunge two fingers straight into her dripping cunt. She clenched around him immediately, hot and tight, her walls sucking him in as he pumped them deep, curling to hit that spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids.

Mingyu's cock strained against his simple pants, hard and leaking pre-cum, but he focused on her, thumb circling her swollen clit with firm strokes while his fingers fucked her steadily. “You like that? My fingers stretching your pussy?” he whispered hotly against her neck, biting down on the flesh there, marking her as his. She nodded frantically, one hand fisting his hair, the other clawing at his shoulder.

“Yes—harder, Mingyu, please,” she begged, her voice breaking as he added a third finger, scissoring them to open her up, his palm slapping wetly against her clit with each thrust. Juices coated his hand, dripping down her thighs, the obscene sounds echoing softly in the quiet night. He kissed her then, messy and desperate, tongues tangling as he finger-fucked her toward the edge, her body trembling in his arms.

But he stopped just short, pulling his fingers free with a slick pop, leaving her clenching around nothing, aching and empty. “Not yet,” he rasped, eyes dark with lust as he dropped to his knees on the terrace stones, ignoring the roughness against his skin. He hiked her robe higher, bunching it at her hips, and buried his face between her legs without warning.

His tongue licked a broad stripe up her pussy, from her entrance to her clit, lapping at her folds like a man starved. She cried out, legs shaking as he sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking it rapidly while his hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks. One finger teased her back entrance, circling the tight ring before pushing in just the tip, making her jolt with the unexpected intrusion.

Mingyu ate her out like it was his last meal, tongue thrusting into her hole, fucking her with it while his nose ground against her clit. He moaned into her pussy, the vibrations sending shocks through her core, and she came hard, thighs clamping around his head as her orgasm ripped through her, cum gushing onto his tongue. He drank it all, swallowing greedily, not stopping until she sagged against the railing, oversensitive and panting.

Rising up, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips glistening with her arousal. “Turn around,” he ordered, voice low and commanding, all traces of hesitation gone. She obeyed, spinning to face the railing, gripping the stone as he pressed against her from behind. His hands yanked her undergarments down fully, leaving her ass bare to the night breeze, and he ground his clothed cock against her crack, the fabric barrier teasing them both.

'I've dreamed of fucking you like this, he admitted, shoving his pants down just enough to free his thick cock. It slapped against her ass, hot and heavy, the head already slick. He rubbed it along her soaked slit, coating himself in her juices, then notched at her entrance. “Gonna fill this pussy up—make you mine.”

With one hard thrust, he buried himself balls-deep, stretching her wide, her walls fluttering around his girth. She moaned loudly, pushing back to take him deeper, and he set a brutal pace immediately, hips snapping forward, cock pounding into her with wet slaps. His hands bruised her hips, holding her steady as he railed her, the railing creaking under their weight.

“Fucking tight—your cunt's gripping me so good,” he grunted, one hand sliding up to wrap around her throat from behind, tilting her head back for a sloppy kiss over her shoulder. She reached down, rubbing her clit frantically as he fucked her harder, his balls slapping against her with each plunge. Sweat slicked their skin, the air thick with the scent of sex.

He pulled out suddenly, spinning her around again to face him, lifting her effortlessly onto the railing despite the drop below—trusting, reckless. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he slammed back in, fucking up into her with powerful thrusts that made her breasts bounce. "Look at me while I breed this pussy," he demanded, eyes locked on hers, and she did, watching the raw need on his face as he chased his release.

She came again first, screaming his name as her pussy spasmed around him, milking his cock. That set him off—he thrust deep one last time, cock pulsing as he flooded her with hot cum, ropes of it painting her insides white. They clung together, breathing ragged, his spend leaking out around where they were joined.

But he wasn't done. Easing out, he dropped to his knees once more, spreading her thighs to watch his cum drip from her fucked-out pussy. “Messy girl,” he murmured, then licked her clean, tongue scooping up the mix of their fluids, sucking it from her folds until she squirmed. His cock twitched back to life, hardening as he stood, pressing it against her lips.

“Suck it. Taste us,” he said, and she did, opening wide to take him in, tongue swirling around the head to clean every drop. He fucked her mouth shallowly, hands in her hair, until he was fully hard again. Pulling out, he flipped her over the railing this time, ass up, and spread her cheeks.

“Now your ass,” he growled, spitting on her hole before pushing a finger in, then two, working her open while she moaned. When she was ready, he lined up his cock, slick with her saliva, and pushed in slowly at first, then deeper, inch by inch until he was seated fully in her tight ass.

The burn gave way to pleasure as he started thrusting, one hand reaching around to finger her pussy, the dual penetration making her see white. He fucked her ass relentlessly, pace building until he was pounding her, grunting with each slap of skin. “Gonna cum in here too—fill every hole.”

She shattered around his fingers, ass clenching on his cock, and he followed, pumping her full of another load, hot and deep. They collapsed together on the terrace floor, bodies entwined, spent but sated, the night wrapping around them like a secret.

The clock struck midnight, and the apartment was dimly lit by the flicker of birthday candles on a half-eaten cake. Mingyu's birthday had been low-key. Just you, him, and a bottle of whiskey that had loosened both your tongues. He lounged on the couch in his black tank top and sweatpants, his broad shoulders relaxed, but his eyes burned with that familiar hunger as he watched you clear the plates. At 29, Mingyu was all muscle and mischief, his sharp jawline shadowed by stubble, and those full lips curved into a smirk that made your thighs clench.

"Best birthday yet," he murmured, voice low and gravelly from the alcohol. You sauntered back, hips swaying, wearing nothing but his oversized shirt that barely skimmed your ass. No panties underneath, your little secret for the night. You straddled his lap without a word, feeling the heat of his body through the thin fabric. His hands immediately gripped your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

"Happy birthday, Gyu," you whispered, grinding down against the growing bulge in his pants. He groaned, head falling back as his cock twitched under you. "What do you want for your present?"

His eyes darkened, one hand sliding up to fist your hair. "You. All fucking night. No holding back." He yanked your head back, exposing your throat, and latched his mouth onto your skin, sucking hard. Teeth scraped, marking you as his. You gasped, pussy already soaking the front of his sweatpants as you rocked against him.

Mingyu flipped you onto your back in one swift move, the couch creaking under his weight. He ripped the shirt open, buttons popping, exposing your bare tits. His mouth descended, capturing one nipple between his teeth and biting down just enough to sting. You arched, fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer. "Fuck, yes. Harder."

He obliged, sucking and nipping until your nipple was red and swollen, then switched to the other. His free hand shoved between your legs, fingers finding your slick folds. No teasing, he plunged two inside your pussy, curling them against that spot that made your walls flutter. "So wet already," he growled against your skin. "This cunt's dripping for my birthday cock."

You moaned, legs spreading wider as he pumped his fingers, thumb circling your clit roughly. The wet sounds filled the room, obscene and filthy. He added a third finger, stretching you, scissoring them to open you up. Your hips bucked, chasing the pressure building in your core. "Mingyu, please, I need you inside me."

He pulled his fingers out with a slick pop, bringing them to your mouth. "Taste how nasty you are for me." You sucked them clean, tongue swirling around his digits, eyes locked on his. The salt of your arousal mixed with whiskey on your tongue. Satisfied, he stood, shoving his sweatpants down. His cock sprang free, thick, veined, the head already leaking pre-cum. Nine inches of hard heat that made your mouth water and your pussy throb.

Mingyu grabbed your ankles, yanking you to the edge of the couch. He slapped his cock against your pussy, the heavy weight smacking your clit. You whimpered, trying to angle for penetration, but he held you still. "Beg for it. Tell me what a slut you are on my birthday."

"Please, Mingyu," you panted, voice breaking. "Fuck my pussy. Stretch me with that big cock. I want to be your dirty little present. Use me, cum inside me."

With a feral grunt, he thrust in, bottoming out in one brutal stroke. Your walls clenched around him, the burn of the stretch making stars burst behind your eyelids. He didn't wait. Hips snapping forward, pounding into you relentlessly. The couch shook with each slam, his balls slapping against your ass. "Tight as fuck," he hissed, hands pinning your thighs wide. "This pussy's mine tonight. Gonna wreck it."

You clawed at his arms, nails leaving red trails on his biceps. Every thrust hit deep, his cock dragging against your g-spot, building that coil in your belly. Sweat dripped from his brow onto your tits, and he leaned down to lick it off, tongue flat and rough. "You like that? Getting railed like a whore on my special day?"

"Yes, god, yes," you cried, pussy spasming around him. He shifted, hooking your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half. The new angle let him go deeper, his pubic bone grinding your clit with every plunge. You were a mess. Juices leaking down your ass, tits bouncing wildly.

Mingyu's pace turned punishing, grunts mixing with the wet squelch of your bodies colliding. He reached down, pinching your clit hard, and you shattered. Orgasm ripped through you, walls milking his cock in tight pulses. "Fuck, cumming!" you screamed, squirting around him, soaking his thighs.

He didn't stop, fucking you through it, prolonging the waves until you were sobbing. "That's one," he panted, pulling out suddenly. His cock glistened with your cum. He flipped you onto your stomach, yanking your ass up. "Now for round two. Spread those cheeks."

You obeyed, reaching back to part your pussy lips, exposing your dripping hole. Mingyu spat on your asshole, rubbing the saliva in with his thumb. "Gonna claim every part of you tonight." He pressed the head of his cock against your pussy again, sliding in slow this time, teasing. Then, without warning, he pushed his thumb into your ass, breaching the tight ring.

The double penetration made you keen, pushing back for more. He thrust his cock deep while fingering your ass, alternating rhythms to keep you on edge. "Such a nasty girl. Taking it in both holes for my birthday. You love being stuffed, don't you?"

"More," you begged, face pressed into the cushions. "Finger me harder. Make me cum again."

He added a second finger to your ass, scissoring them wide while his hips pistoned. The fullness was overwhelming, your pussy gushing around his cock. Mingyu's free hand came down on your ass cheek. Smack. Leaving a red handprint. "Count them," he ordered.

"One," you gasped as he spanked again, the sting blooming into heat. "Two. Three. Fuck, Mingyu!" By ten, your ass was on fire, each slap making your pussy clench tighter.

He pulled his fingers out, replacing them with his cock. No prep, just the slick from your pussy easing the way. You cried out as he sank into your ass, inch by inch, the tight heat gripping him like a vice. "So fucking tight back here," he groaned, bottoming out. He started slow, letting you adjust, then ramped up, fucking your ass with deep, rolling thrusts.

You reached under, rubbing your clit frantically as he reamed you. The taboo fullness pushed you over again, orgasm crashing hard. "Cumming. Your cock in my ass is making me cum!" Your body shook, ass squeezing him rhythmically.

Mingyu growled, pulling out and flipping you once more. He straddled your chest, fisting his cock. "Open wide. Gonna paint your face and tits." You stuck out your tongue, mouth eager. He jerked himself fast, the veins bulging, until ropes of hot cum shot out. First across your lips, then your cheeks, dripping down to your neck. He aimed lower, coating your tits in thick spurts, marking you completely.

Panting, he smeared the cum over your skin with his cockhead, then pushed into your mouth. "Clean me up, birthday slut." You sucked greedily, tongue lapping every drop, tasting your ass and his release mixed together.

But he wasn't done. Mingyu hauled you to the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed. He stripped fully, muscles rippling under tanned skin, cock already hardening again. "On your knees. I want that pussy riding me until I fill it."

You mounted him as a reverse cowgirl, sinking down onto his length with a moan. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you bounced, ass jiggling with each drop. He spanked you sporadically, the slaps echoing. "Faster. Milk my cock with that greedy cunt."

You rode him hard, grinding your clit against his base, chasing another high. Mingyu sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist, his other hand choking your throat lightly. "Cum with me," he demanded, thrusting up to meet you.

The pressure built fast. His cock swelling inside you. You shattered first, pussy convulsing, and he followed, flooding your depths with pulse after pulse of cum. It overflowed, trickling down his balls as you collapsed forward.

He held you there, cock softening inside, kissing your shoulder. "Best fucking birthday," he whispered, voice sated but still intense. You smiled, spent and sticky, knowing you'd do it all again tomorrow.