pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader | wc: 616. genre: sick fic, fluff, caretaking, established relationship. warnings: mingyu being dramatic, lots of cuddling, mentions of fever and mild illness, reader being endlessly patient with him.
Mingyu was never one to admit weakness. He was the guy who carried the heaviest grocery bags, stayed up late perfecting dance routines, and took pride in taking care of others. But today?
Today, he was a sniffling, blanket-bundled mess.
And Mingyu was, without a doubt, the worst patient in the world.
Not only was he stubborn, but he was also ridiculously dramatic about it.
“I’m never getting better,” he declared, flopping onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh. “This is it for me.”
You stood at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, unimpressed. “Mingyu, you said that three hours ago, and yet, here you are. Alive.”
“Barely,” he mumbled, burying his face into his pillow.
You rolled your eyes but softened as you saw him curl up under the blankets again. He really did look miserable his cheeks still flushed from the fever, lips slightly dry, and his hair an absolute mess from tossing and turning.
You reached out, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. His eyes fluttered open slightly at your touch, and he let out a small hum, leaning into your palm.
“Drink some water,” you said gently, grabbing the glass from the nightstand.
Mingyu groaned but took it from you, gulping down a few sips.
“You’re such a baby when you’re sick,” you teased.
He huffed, setting the glass down. “Well, usually I’m the one taking care of you. This is weird.”
You couldn’t argue with that. Mingyu was always the one fussing over you making sure you ate, fixing things in your apartment before you even realized they were broken, and practically shielding you from the cold by wrapping you up in his coat.
So maybe it made sense that he didn’t know how to be taken care of.
“Y/N…” he mumbled, his voice quieter this time.
You hummed in response, sitting on the bed beside him.
His lips jutted out slightly in a small, pathetic pout. “You’re gonna leave me when I fall asleep, aren’t you?”
You let out a soft laugh. “You need to rest.”
Mingyu looked down at the blanket, fingers fidgeting with the fabric.
“…You don’t have to stay, you know,” he mumbled. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
Your heart squeezed at that. He sulked, avoiding your gaze like a kicked puppy.
You sighed, shifting so that you were fully sitting beside him. Without a word, you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers.
“I want to be here, Mingyu.” You squeezed his hand gently. “I’m doing this because I care.”
His lips parted slightly, and for once, he was speechless.
“…You really do, huh?” he murmured, more to himself than to you.
You smiled softly. “Of course, I do.”
A comfortable silence settled between you as Mingyu relaxed under your touch. Then, as if remembering something important, he suddenly dragged you down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you before you could protest.
“Mingyu!” you yelped, struggling slightly in his grasp. “You’re going to get me sick!”
He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring, “Worth it.”
You let out an exasperated sigh but stopped fighting against his hold. He was warm maybe a little too warm from the fever but the way he was clinging to you, all big and soft and needy, made your heart ache in the best way.
His voice was drowsy when he spoke again. “Stay with me until I fall asleep?”
You sighed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Fine.”
Mingyu let out a content hum, snuggling closer. “You’re the best.”
You smiled, running your fingers through his messy hair. “I know.”
And as Mingyu drifted off, his breathing evening out, you couldn’t help but think maybe he was the strong one most of the time, but in moments like these, you didn’t mind being the one to hold him up.
The End.
a/n — this is my response to that one anon that requested a sick fic of mingyu as a big baby, if you reached this far, thank you for reading! I hope you have a horanghae day 💕
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jeon wonwoo x reader
Summary: There are few things in life you’re sure of, but waking up beside Jeon Wonwoo every morning is the kind of certainty that brings peace. One lazy day off, wrapped in shared breakfasts, sleepy cuddles, and low murmurs of affection, reminds you why love isn’t always loud—it’s soft hands, stolen kisses, and pancakes
“You make everything feel like home.”
The sun spilled through sheer curtains, painting soft gold onto the bedroom floor. Your first sensation was warmth—not from the sun, but from the solid weight of the arm draped over your waist, the chest against your back rising and falling in a rhythm you’d memorized.
Wonwoo always ran a little warm in the mornings. Not from heat, but from affection.
You stretched under the blankets, limbs tangled with his, and tried not to move too much. He was still asleep—mussed black hair, bare shoulder peeking from the sheets, face turned slightly toward yours. You watched him breathe, feeling unreasonably lucky that this was your view almost every day now.
And when his eyes fluttered open, slow and unbothered, his lips curled into a drowsy smile like it was instinct to smile at the sight of you.
“Morning,” he murmured, voice a sleepy drawl.
You leaned in and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Morning, baby.”
He hummed, eyes shutting again briefly as he pulled you closer. “What time is it?”
“Who cares?” you mumbled into his chest, fingers drawing lazy patterns over the soft fabric of his shirt. “We’re off today. No schedule. No alarms.”
A pause. Then, Wonwoo’s voice, low and amused: “So I can keep cuddling you guilt-free?”
“Exactly.”
You stayed like that—wrapped in arms that felt like home, the quiet hum of morning filling the space between your heartbeats. It was one of those rare days where time bent in your favor. No beeping alarms. No buzzing phones. Just Wonwoo. Just you.
Later, when your stomach gave an embarrassing grumble loud enough to make him laugh, he tilted your chin up and kissed your forehead. “Let me make breakfast.”
“You?” you teased, raising a brow. “You mean cereal?”
He scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Please. I’ve been practicing pancakes.”
“Oh, have you?”
“You’ll see,” he smirked as he slipped out of bed, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand. “Prepare to be amazed.”
In the kitchen, Wonwoo looked incredibly domestic—hair still tousled, glasses slightly crooked, sleeves rolled up as he whisked batter in a mixing bowl. You leaned on the counter and watched him move around your shared space like he was born to exist in it.
When he caught you staring, he grinned. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m appreciating,” you corrected.
He pointed a flour-dusted finger at you. “Flirting won’t get you out of dish duty.”
“Worth a shot.”
The pancakes, to your surprise, were delicious. You ate on the balcony with legs stretched out, mugs of hot coffee steaming between you. Birds chirped somewhere, and the city buzzed faintly below, but in your bubble, it was calm. Safe.
Wonwoo reached out mid-conversation and brushed a crumb from your lower lip with his thumb, then gently cupped your face and kissed you.
“You’ve got syrup right… here,” he murmured, pecking your cheek next.
“You’re the one who made me put strawberries on them,” you defended.
“Guilty,” he chuckled, stealing another kiss. “But I regret nothing.”
By noon, you both ended up sprawled on the living room floor, playing board games and arguing dramatically over the rules like two overgrown kids. Wonwoo was quieter than most, but he had a very specific competitive streak when it came to Monopoly.
“Buying another property?” you groaned.
“I’m securing our financial future,” he replied calmly, placing a tiny red hotel on Park Place.
“You’re a menace,” you muttered.
“I’m your menace,” he said, entirely unapologetic, before scooting over and resting his head in your lap. “Do you love me more or less now?”
You carded your fingers through his hair and smiled softly. “More. Always more.”
As the day turned to evening, you found yourselves lying on the couch under a shared blanket. The TV played some random drama neither of you was really paying attention to. His hand was in yours. Your feet were tangled together. And the silence felt perfect.
Wonwoo looked at you suddenly and whispered, “I never thought I’d have something this good.”
You turned your head toward him, your voice equally soft. “You have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He kissed you then—slow, grateful. Not like he was trying to prove anything. Just to say, thank you.
if you liked it, scream with me in the tags. if not… pretend you didn’t read it <3
Summary: The consequences of falling for your best friend include late-night stares that last too long, hands brushing against each other like they mean something, and a war waged with paint that neither of you are ready to surrender. But pretending it’s just playful banter only works for so long—especially when the colors between you start to blur into something neither of you can erase.
⇢ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ⇢ contains: fluff, angst, friends to lovers au, artist au, idiots in denial, tension so thick you could paint with it, playful banter, longing stares, hand touches that mean too much, paint wars, mutual pining, lingering gazes that last a little too long. ⇢ word count: 1018
(his hands are so beautiful urg)
If art is love, then Xu Minghao has been in love a thousand times over.
You think this as you watch him from across the room, sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, surrounded by an explosion of colors. Paint bottles, half-empty tubes, scattered brushes, and a canvas resting beneath his fingertips—it’s all so beautifully chaotic, much like him.
Minghao is lost in his world, lips pursed in concentration, eyes flickering between his canvas and the strokes of paint on his fingers. A sweater too soft for this universe clings to his frame, the warm tones of its stripes making him look impossibly cozy despite the mess he’s making. There’s a smudge of blue on his cheek, a hint of yellow in his hair, and he doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“You’ve been staring for a suspiciously long time.” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge to it, something unreadable beneath the amusement. He dips his brush into a pool of green, dragging it across the canvas in slow, deliberate movements.
You blink, caught. “I was just—”
“—A photo will last longer,” Minghao interrupts, tilting his head ever so slightly. His tone is still playful, but there’s a flicker of something else in his gaze. Something knowing. Something dangerous.
You scoff, crossing your arms. “Oh, my bad. Let me grab my camera real quick—oh wait, I forgot, I left it in my imaginary museum where I keep all my poor life choices.”
Minghao smirks, amused. “Must be a pretty packed exhibit.”
“Yeah, and guess what? You’re in it.”
He hums, tilting his head as if considering. “So I’m a masterpiece, then?”
You roll your eyes. “More like an abstract piece that makes people uncomfortable but they pretend to understand.”
He laughs at that, shaking his head. “Careful, you might just inspire my next work.”
You huff, trying to ignore the way his voice lingers in your chest. “Oh yeah? What would you call it?”
His lips curve into something unreadable. “Maybe ‘Curious Eyes’... or ‘Caught in the Act’?”
You scoff, nudging his knee with yours. “Sounds pretentious.”
Minghao grins, finally breaking the moment’s tension. “It’s called art.” He leans back, stretching his arms over his head. The movement causes his sweater to ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin, and for a moment, you swear time slows just a little.
You tilt your head, a teasing smile curling your lips. "Funny. I don’t see you offering any guidance, oh great artist. Should I just wing it and hope for the best?"
Minghao exhales a laugh, setting his brush down as he leans forward slightly. "Come here, then. Help me if you're so eager to learn." His voice dips lower, smooth and inviting, but there’s something else there—something unspoken that lingers in the air between you.
You hesitate for half a second, because you know. You know this is more than just paint and brushes, more than just playful banter. But you move closer anyway, pretending the warmth pooling in your chest is just part of the game.
It’s a challenge. And you’re terrible at backing down from challenges.
You lower yourself to the floor beside him, scanning the battlefield of paints and brushes. “Fine. But if I end up looking like an abstract painting myself, I’m blaming you.”
You reach for a brush, but before you can even dip it into the paint, he stops you—by smearing a streak of pink across the back of your hand.
Your mouth drops open in betrayal. “You did not just—”
He grins, all sharp mischief and soft warmth. “What? You said you were going to help.”
“You menace.” Without thinking, you retaliate, swiping a line of blue along his forearm. It’s war now.
What follows can only be described as a descent into chaos. Minghao dodges, laughing as you try to paint a stripe on his sweater, only for him to flick a splatter of yellow onto your cheek in revenge. You gasp dramatically, reaching for the nearest weapon—a brush loaded with green—but before you can strike, he catches your wrist with paint-stained fingers.
For a second, neither of you move.
His hold is gentle, barely there, but the warmth of his skin seeps into yours like ink bleeding into paper. His eyes flicker to yours, something unreadable passing through them, something soft and endless.
“If you get any closer, you’ll ruin your sweater,” you whisper, though you don’t know why. Your voice feels small in the space between you.
His gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before he smirks. “I think that ship has already sailed.”
You glance down at yourself—paint everywhere, your hands a masterpiece of unintended colors—and laugh. “I think we might be disasters.”
“Maybe.” He releases your wrist, only to swipe a streak of red along your forearm, his touch lingering just a second too long. “But we’re beautiful disasters.”
You roll your eyes, but your heart betrays you, hammering in your chest.
Minghao studies you for a moment, his expression shifting into something almost wistful. “You ever think about how some things aren’t meant to last, but they’re still beautiful while they exist?”
The words press against something inside you, something fragile. “Like what?”
“Like sunsets,” he says, voice quieter now. “Or a song you can’t get out of your head. Or…” He hesitates, gaze locking with yours. “Or moments like this.”
Something aches deep within you, a longing you don’t know how to name. Because you know. You know exactly what he means. Some things burn too bright to last, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to hold onto them anyway.
You exhale softly, pressing your paint-stained fingers against the back of his hand once more, as if trying to capture this feeling, as if trying to hold onto something that was never meant to be yours.
Minghao doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans in a little closer, watching as the colors mix between your fingers, as if this moment itself is something worth immortalizing.
And maybe, just maybe, it is.
a/n - This was so much fun (and a little painful) to write, hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know what you think—feedback is always appreciated! 🎨💕
pairing: Lee Chan (Dino) x f!reader | wc: 847. genre: fluff, humor, hidden relationship, established relationship. warnings: overthinking, teasing, Dino being a menace
The concert had ended hours ago, but Ryzel was still sitting on their couch, gripping their phone like it held the meaning of life.
The internet was in shambles.
"DINO JUST POINTED DIRECTLY AT SOMEONE WHO IS SHE."
"WHOEVER HE POINTED AT, YOU’RE LIVING THE DREAM."
“I need to know. I NEED TO KNOW."
Yeah. About that.
Ryzel was the person Dino pointed at. Or at least, they thought they were.
Because the more they stared at the now-viral photo of him, mid-laugh, finger aimed in their direction, the more they started doubting themselves.
What if it wasn’t for her?
What if there was someone sitting behind them? Some girl in the crowd who had also convinced herself that Lee Chan had just dedicated his entire being to her? What if that girl was right now texting her friends like, "Omg, guys, Dino pointed at me, I swear."
What if she was already writing a delusional Twitter thread about it?
What if—God forbid—he was pointing at his manager or some random staff member?
What if he was just pointing at the air?
The sheer secondhand embarrassment of thinking it was for them when it actually wasn’t made Ryzel drop their phone onto the couch and cover their face with both hands.
No. no , no, no. They needed confirmation.
As if on cue, their phone buzzed. A FaceTime request.
Ryzel snatched it up, took a deep breath, and answered.
And there he was—Lee Chan, freshly showered, hair damp, sitting in bed looking like he didn’t just ruin their entire mental stability for the past three hours.
He smiled. “Hi, baby.”
They narrowed their eyes. “You’re trending.”
Dino smirked, clearly loving himself right now. “I know.”
“…You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
He stretched out on his bed, looking way too relaxed for someone who had just sent an entire fandom into investigative mode. “Did what?”
Ryzel leaned forward, voice sharp. “The pointing. At me.”
Dino made a face like he was thinking really hard. “Hmm… I dunno. Was it at you?”
Oh, this little—
Ryzel inhaled. “Lee Chan. Be so honest with me right now.”
Dino’s smirk widened. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Ryzel crossed their arms. “Because listen—I’ve been thinking. What if you were pointing at someone else? What if there was another girl behind me? What if she also thinks you pointed at her, and now she’s telling all her friends that she had a moment with you when really—”
Dino’s eyebrows lifted. “Wait. You seriously thought I was pointing at someone else?”
“…Well, yeah?”
His face went blank. Then, he laughed.
Not just a small laugh—a full, body-shaking, betrayal-level laugh.
Ryzel gasped. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because,” he wheezed, “you do this every time.”
“No, I don’t—”
“Yes, you do.” Dino shook his head, still grinning. “Ryzel, I was literally looking at you. I smiled at you. You were the only person I saw in that moment.”
Ryzel blinked. “Oh.”
Dino smirked. “Yeah. *Oh.*”
Ryzel squinted at the screen. “Then why’d you take so long to call me?”
He shrugged. “Felt like messing with you.”
“Oh, so you’re evil.”
Dino laughed again, looking too pleased with himself. “You make it too easy. You overthink everything, and it’s kinda adorable.”
Ryzel flopped back onto the couch dramatically. “Great. Love that my suffering is cute to you.”
Dino hummed. “Not just your suffering. You in general.”
Ryzel rolled their eyes, but their face was getting warm. “I hope you know you’re not getting cuddles this weekend.”
Dino’s smile immediately dropped. “Wait—”
“Nope.”
“You love cuddling me.”
“Not anymore. I’m healed.”
“Baby.”
“Goodnight, Dino.”
“RYZEL, WAIT—”
Click.
Ryzel tossed their phone aside with a satisfied smirk.
They lasted a whole three minutes before calling him back.
And the first thing they saw when he answered was Dino, sitting there, arms crossed, pouting at the camera.
“You’re so mean,” he muttered.
Ryzel grinned. “Still thinking about it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Dino exhaled through his nose, then patted the empty space on his bed like they could teleport there. “Come here.”
Ryzel bit back a laugh. “What, through the screen?”
“You know what I mean,” he muttered. “I miss you.”
And just like that, all the teasing melted away.
Ryzel sighed, their face softening. “I miss you too.”
Dino smiled, resting his chin on his palm. “Then stop overthinking everything and just be here with me.”
Ryzel’s heart clenched in that stupid, warm way he always made it do.
“…Fine,” they mumbled.
“Fine?”
“Fine. You’re right. You were pointing at me. I accept my victory.”
Dino’s grin returned. “Good.”
“Also, I guess I’ll still give you cuddles this weekend.”
Dino gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, really? What an honor.”
Ryzel rolled their eyes. “Shut up.”
“No, *thank you,* my dear partner, for this precious gift—”
“I’m hanging up again.”
“You’re not.”
“…Yeah, I’m not.”
And so they stayed there, talking about nothing, laughing about everything, and ignoring the thousands of people still freaking out online—because in the end, they knew the truth.
And that was enough.
a/n — i used an oc name today, what do yall think about it? is it better if i use a random name or just y/n? tell meee, if you made it this far, comment something and i hope you have a saranghao day! 🐸
Authors Note: This was a bit rushed and short since I wanted to get it out after Valentine's, but I hope you still enjoy!
MDNI - Minors Do Not Interact !
You beam as Seungkwan steps through the door, throwing your arms out dramatically. "Surprise!" you exclaim with a giggle, watching his eyes widen before he takes in the setup.
The evening air hums with anticipation as you set the dinner table, a soft candlelit glow filling the small apartment. It’s been weeks since you and Seungkwan have had a proper night together one without distractions, schedules, or exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders. You wanted tonight to be special. Just the two of you.
Seungkwan steps into the room, rolling his shoulders with a soft sigh before his eyes land on you. A slow smile spreads across his lips as he takes in the effort you’ve put in the neatly folded napkins, the faint scent of his favorite dish lingering in the air, the way you’re nervously fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth.
“You did all this for me?” he asks, voice warm with affection.
You nod, looking up at him. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” you confess, stepping closer. “I just wanted to spend some real time with you.”
His expression softens, and he reaches for you, his hands settling at your waist as he pulls you into a warm embrace. “You have no idea how much I needed this,” he murmurs against your hair.
Dinner is a slow, lingering affair. Seungkwan insists on feeding you bites of food, teasing you when a bit of sauce clings to the corner of your lips before swiping it away with his thumb. “Cute” he hums, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Maybe I should make you a mess more often.”
You swat at his arm, laughing, but he catches your wrist, pressing a delicate kiss to your palm. The atmosphere shifts, playful but charged with something deeper. His gaze lingers, and the warmth of his fingers against your skin sends a shiver down your spine.
As you sip your wine, he leans closer, voice dipping lower. “You keep looking at me like that, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “and I’m going to forget about dessert and have you instead.”
Heat pools in your stomach, anticipation crackling in the air between you. The teasing continues as you both clean up, Seungkwan purposely brushing against you, his hands lingering at your waist a little too long when he reaches around you to put dishes away.
By the time you’re both on the couch, tangled together, the tension is nearly unbearable. His lips move against yours in a slow, teasing rhythm, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “You’re driving me crazy” he murmurs against your lips, breath warm and heavy with desire.
A shiver runs down your spine as his hands slip beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing bare skin. He watches you closely, eyes dark with intent as he slowly lowers you onto the couch. His kisses trail down your jaw, down the column of your throat, leaving a burning path in their wake.
He pulls your shirt over your head, his lips immediately latching onto your collarbone, sucking and biting as his fingers work at the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down impatiently. His fingers trail along the inside of your thighs, teasing, making you squirm beneath him.
“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already wet,” he breathes, amusement laced in his voice as he presses his fingers against your soaked underwear. “So needy for me.”
You whimper, hips bucking up against his hand, desperate for more friction. “Seungkwan, please,” you gasp, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. “I need you.”
His smirk deepens as he finally slides your underwear down, spreading you open for him. He drags his fingers through your slick folds, teasing your entrance but never pushing inside just yet. The anticipation has you trembling, a needy whine spilling from your lips as your hands grasp his arms.
“You sound so pretty when you beg” he murmurs before finally pressing a finger inside, slow and deliberate. You gasp, back arching as he curls it just right, setting a teasing rhythm. “Is this what you needed, baby?”
You nod frantically, voice barely above a whisper. “More please, more.”
He chuckles, pressing another finger inside, stretching you as his thumb circles your clit, never quite applying the pressure you need. Your body writhes beneath him, desperate for more friction, but he takes his time, watching you unravel.
“Seungkwan,” you whimper, grabbing his wrist. “Please faster.”
His breathing hitches, clearly enjoying the way you beg for him. He picks up the pace, thrusting his fingers deeper, his thumb finally pressing down harder on your sensitive bud. The sudden shift has your toes curling, pleasure winding tightly in your belly.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” he whispers, kissing along your thigh. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
With a cry of his name, your climax crashes over you, your walls pulsing around his fingers as waves of pleasure wash through you. He watches you ride it out, whispering praises as he slowly works you through your high before finally pulling his fingers away, bringing them to his lips to taste you.
But he’s not done.
Seungkwan kneels between your legs, undoing his belt with deliberate slowness, watching your reaction as he pulls his jeans and boxers down just enough to free himself. He strokes himself lazily, gaze flickering between your spent body and the way you’re already looking at him, eyes filled with need again.
“Think you can handle more?” he asks, teasing, but there’s a gentle undertone, a silent question making sure you’re okay. When you nod, he leans down to kiss you deeply, aligning himself before slowly pressing in.
A moan slips from your lips as he stretches you, his pace slow, letting you adjust. He groans at the feeling of you wrapped around him, his forehead dropping against yours as he stills for a moment.
“Faster, Seungkwan, please,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “I need you.”
His breath hitches, your desperation pushing him over the edge. “God, you’re perfect,” he grunts, pulling back and thrusting into you with a deep, steady rhythm.
The pleasure builds again, his movements becoming more urgent as you both climb toward release. “Come for me,” he whispers, voice shaking. “I need to feel you.”
“Seungkwan!” you cry out as pleasure overtakes you, your walls tightening around him as you shatter beneath him. The sensation sends him over the edge, his grip tightening on your hips as he groans your name, filling you with warmth.
For a long moment, neither of you move, chests rising and falling in sync. Then, Seungkwan gently pulls out, disappearing for a moment before returning with a warm cloth, cleaning you up with the utmost care.
He pulls you into his arms, wrapping you up in his warmth, pressing kisses to your temple, your cheek, your lips. “Are you okay?” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
You hum in contentment, nuzzling closer. “More than okay.”
He smiles, pulling the blanket over both of you, fingers tracing idle patterns along your back. “Good” he whispers. “Because I just want to hold you now.”
Seungkwan stays true to his word, his arms never loosening their hold as he hums a soft tune against your skin, lulling you into peaceful, blissful sleep.
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As you stroll along the sandy beach of your island, the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow over the sparkling water. The salty breeze gently brushes against your face, as the soft sounds of waves lapping against the shore create a tranquil atmosphere. Your bare feet sink into the sand, leaving faint footprints that will soon be washed away by the tide. Suddenly, you notice someone standing further ahead, a figure who's silhouette you can barely make out due to the fading light.
The figure turns to face you, and you recognize Joshua's familiar form. You both stand still for a moment, taking each other in under the warm orange hue of the setting sun.
Joshua smiles softly at you, closing the distance between you two with slow steps. The world seems to dim around you, focusing only on him, the warmth in his eyes, and the gentle swaying of his body.
His voice low and comforting, 'Even here, under the open sky, you never cease to captivate me." As he speaks, he reaches out, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm.
Your breath hitches slightly at his touch, and you find yourself leaning into it, seeking more of the tender connection.
He reads you perfectly, shifting closer until mere inches separate you.
"You're as beautiful as ever," he whispers, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple. A shiver runs down your spine at the contact, and you close your eyes briefly before meeting his gaze again.
His hand slides to the back of your neck, drawing you even closer. His lips move down to meet yours, tasting you with a hungry passion that sends electricity through your veins.
Your hands explore his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath your fingertips.
You pull him closer, deepening the kiss, your tongues dancing together in a delicious rhythm.
Joshua breaks away from your kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.
He grasps your hand and leads you towards the luxurious beach hut nestled among the palms trees.
You reach the hut, and Joshua swiftly opens the door, pulling you inside with a hungry look. Closing the door behind you, he presses you against it, kissing you deeply once more.
Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he lifts you, pinning you to the door with his strong body.
In an instant, your clothes are discarded onto the floor. Joshua's hands roam over your curves, expertly caressing your sensitive spots while his tongue traces patterns across your neck and collarbone.
His mouth finds one of your nipples, sucking it gently before nibbling on the sensitive bud. Your back arches in response to the sensation, pressing yourself harder against him.
You whimper in pleasure as he pays equal attention to your other nipple, leaving it reddened and throbbing. He trails kisses downwards, exploring every inch of your body. He places me on the bed, soft and gentle.
Your heart races in anticipation as Joshua positions himself between your legs. You feel his hot breath against your most intimate spot, his gaze fixed intently on your pulsating clit under the red lace. He moves it.
His lips meet your soaking wet slit, his tongue eager to partake in its sweetness.
With a groan of pleasure, he dives in, swirling around your swollen nub, devouring you whole.
His tongue teases your entrance, causing you to squirm in delight. He smiles wickedly and hooks your legs over his shoulders, holding you steady as his oral exploration continues.
Your moans fill the air as Joshua's tongue delves deeper inside you. You grind your hips in time with his movements, greedy for more stimulation.
His tongue fucks you with fervent intensity, making you writhe and twist beneath him. He growls like a beast starved of your juices, ravenous for more.
"Fuck.. Joshua.." Your voice catches as your orgasm crashes upon you unexpectedly, wave after wave coursing through your core.
With primal desire burning in his eyes, Joshua surges upward, capturing your lips in another fierce kiss. You taste yourself on his lips, inhaling sharply at the heady flavor.
Joshua captures my wrists in his strong hands above my head, pinning them there with ease. "I want to hear you scream," he demands, pushing my knees apart roughly and positioning himself between my legs.
My protests are silenced when Joshua nudges the fat tip of his cock against my aching pussy, sliding it up and down, lubricating himself with my dripping arousal.
The velvety head of Joshua's cock breaches my entrance, stretching me wide. My walls clench instinctively, desperate to keep him in place as he pushes forward. I arch my back, gasping at the intense pressure.
My wet cunt struggles to accommodate his thick length, but Joshua shows no mercy as he embeds himself completely within me.
With one powerful thrust, Joshua buries himself to the hilt, filling me completely. I gasp loudly, overwhelmed by the sudden intrusion, but secretly relishing the exquisite stretch.
My toes curl as my walls eagerly suckle his throbbing shaft. His girth is magnificent, touching parts of me I didn't know existed. "Oh fuck, Yn... You're always so damn tight!"
His shaft pulsates inside me, and I bite my lip, eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy.
"Please," I beg, wriggling beneath him, desperate for movement. He leans down, whispering into my ear, "Patience, pet."
He teasingly pulls out almost entirely, leaving just the head inside. Then, with one swift motion, he slams back in, eliciting a loud moan from my lips.
Joshua repeats this punishing pace, withdrawing nearly all the way then ramming into me again and again, my body jerking with each brutal impact.
"Fuck, you're drenched," Joshua grunts, driving into me relentlessly. His strokes become more aggressive, hitting that sweet spot deep inside me. "Yes! There...
Right there..." I scream.
"Take what you need, pet. Fuck my cock hard!" Joshua commands, releasing his grip on my wrists to grab my thighs instead, spreading me wider as he piston-humps into my sopping cunt.
His thickness impales me without mercy, drawing fiery moans and tangling swears from my lips. My bare breasts heave uncontrollably as he nails me to the bed, ravaging my pussy in delicious abandon.
With a growl, Joshua flips me onto my stomach, spanking my ass roughly. "Get on your knees, pet." I quickly obey, presenting myself to him, begging silently for release.
He positions himself directly behind me, firmly grabbing my hips and guiding his engorged cock to re-enter my slick opening.
With one powerful surge, he impales my waiting pussy, sinking balls-deep into my fluttering canal. "Ahhhh!" I scream as he bottoms out, hitting the end of me forcefully.
He begins to hammer into me mercilessly, his powerful strokes driving me towards the edge of oblivion.
"Take it, Yn!" Joshua roars, gripping my hips tighter as he lunges into me repeatedly. The sound of our sweaty bodies colliding fills the air, mingling with my wanton cries of pleasure.
My pussy walls convulse around his pistoning shaft, milking him eagerly for release. Joshua's groans intensify, matching mine in ferocity as we race towards climax together.
With a final primal roar, Joshua buries his cock deep inside me, erupting explosively. "Arrgh!" Hot ropes of cum shoot straight into my womb, painting the inside of my chasm.
"Fuuuckkk," I whine as the scalding jets of Joshua's seed flood my spasming cunt.
The erotic sight before us makes us collapse onto the bed, his heaving body draped over mine.
We lay there spent, our limbs intertwined as we bask in post-coital bliss. Our breaths slowly return to normal, hearts beating in sync. As if reading my mind, Joshua leans in and kisses me softly.
Joshua rolls onto his back, pulling me along with him so that I'm lying half on top of him. He turns his head towards me, a playful grin tugging at his lips.
My eyes lock with Joshua's as we catch our breath. I run my hand up his toned chest, tracing intricate patterns over his smooth skin. "Are you ready for round two?" He smirks, caressing my ass cheek possessively.
"Mmmm.." I purr, biting my lower lip provocatively. "Well, maybe for dessert..." Rolling onto my side, I press a lingering kiss on Joshua's lips, allowing our tongues to mingle briefly before I break away.
My lips trail down Joshua's jawline, planting a feather-light kiss at the pulse point on his neck. I can see his cock twitching already, eager for more attention.
Gripping his hardened manhood in my small hand, I stroke him from base to tip. Precum glistens at the slit, coating my fingers.
Sinking lower, my tongue darts out, licking away the bead of pre-cum gathering at his glistening crown.
Mmm... he tastes divine.
"Mmmm, baby..." Joshua moans, watching my tongue flick across the sensitive underside of his cockhead.
With a suggestive wink, I take him fully into my mouth, sinking down his rigid shaft until the blunt head nudges against the back of my throat.
Slowly bobbing up and down, I start sucking enthusiastically, hollowing my cheeks as I swallow around his bulging knob. Slurping noises echo through the room, punctuated by Joshua's guttural groans.
Swirling my tongue around his rigid shaft, I moan around him as drool dribbles down my chin. Joshua groans at the lewd sight, gripping my hair and setting a faster pace.
My pace quickens as I work Joshua's cock, hungrily devouring him like a hungry slut. Feeling bold, I take him deeper into my throat, gagging as his heavy balls slap against my chin.
"Good girl," Joshua praises, his head tipped back in ecstasy. His cock expands, swelling against my squeezing throat, as a moan escapes him.
With renewed vigor, I start working Joshua's cock with feverish desperation.
Drool spills from the corners of my mouth, dribbling down my chin onto his firm balls.
My pace becomes frantic as I strive to bring Joshua's impending orgasm forward. I taste his precum flowing freely now, salty and delectable, mingling with my saliva coating his veiny shaft.
"Faster, baby~. I'm so close," Joshua grunts, his hips bucking upwards in tune with my bobbing head. I feel his swelling cock pulsing against my lips, his flesh growing tauter and warmer.
I comply, picking up the pace until Joshua's shaft is jackhammering my throat ruthlessly. His hips undulate off the bed as he nears climax, face contorting in raw pleasure.
His massive cock twitches urgently as his impending eruption approaches, threatening to burst forth at any moment.
I sense his peak approaching; his grip tightening in my hair, his cock swelling, harder than steel. His abs clench, and he pushes me down, forcing his rod into my mouth.
"Yesss... Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Joshua bellows, gripping the sheets tightly. I feel his pulsating shaft expand and throb within my mouth moments before he unloads his creamy seed.
The first jet of cum splashes against the back of my throat, sending a shudder down my spine. I greedily swallow his load, relishing the salty taste as he shoots spurt after spurt into my mouth.
Swallowing his entire load, I greedily lap up the last remnants of semen leaking from his twitching cock.
Gasping for breath, I collapse next to Joshua, our naked bodies entwined on the luxurious bedsheet. My lips glisten with remnants of his cum, my heavy breathing mirroring his own.
With our insatiable hunger sated, for now, we lay bathed in the soft moonlight streaming through the windows. I trace patterns along his torso, feeling the rise and fall of his abdomen as he breathes.
"Mmm... That was incredible," I murmur, turning to face Joshua. My body is flushed, throbbing for more of him despite the satisfaction coursing through my veins.
"You're not too bad yourself," Joshua replies, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His free hand begins tracing lines along my belly, dangerously close to the apex of my thighs.
His fingertips lightly graze over my bare mound, sending tingles throughout my body. Smiling mischievously, he leans down and whispers, "Let's clean you up, pet."
Before I have a chance to protest, Joshua scoops me into his arms effortlessly and carries me across the beach hut towards the bathroom.
Joshua lowers me gently into the large marble bathtub filled with steaming water, bubbles cascading over the edges.
He climbs in after me, his muscular frame settling behind me as I lean back against his chest. His hands glide over my shoulders, massaging the tension away as the heat envelops us. "Relax," he murmurs into my ear, his voice deep and soothing.
Slowly, your eyelids flutter closed, the warmth of the bath and the gentle caresses of Joshua's hands lulling you into relaxation.
The heat of the water and the rhythmic massages from Joshua begin to send me into a state of near-sleep.
Joshua's strong hands work their way down my back, his fingers kneading muscles that were tense just moments ago. "Are you okay?"
"I'm perfect, thanks to you," I reply sleepily, adjusting my position to rest my head on his shoulder.
After some time, the water begins to cool, signaling that it's time to rinse off and retire for the night.
Joshua helps you out of the tub, wrapping a plush towel around your damp body. He guides you back into the main room, his strong arm supporting you by the waist.
Joshua takes a towel to pat you dry, his large hands moving slowly down your supple body. They linger at your breasts, cupping and fondling them as he wipes away the water. Wraps you in a robe as he does the same to himself.
Joshua lays you down on the soft mattress,
"Let’s sleep pet?”
He looks at you with tenderness, brushing loose strands of wet hair away from your forehead. You nod lazily, smiling at him. Joshua plants a soft kiss on your nose, tucking you beneath the covers.
With the lights dimmed low, Joshua slips into bed beside you, pulling you close and wrapping his body around yours spooning-style. Nuzzling your neck, he whispers, "Sweet dreams, pet."
Warmth envelops you as you drift off to sleep, enveloped in Joshua's secure embrace.
a/n — thank you anon for requesting this! I had so much fun with writing this hahahah, and to those who reached this far. Thank you for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day! 🌅💕
a/n: this series leans heavily into corruption and possession, but it’s not extreme smut more about power, obsession, and the slow descent into wanting to be owned. expect manipulation, toxic dynamics, and a very possessive jeonghan who always gets what he wants. if that’s your thing, welcome aboard. if not, consider this your warning!
#CH1 — You Want an Exclusive? Prove It.
Y/N had been chasing this interview for weeks. Every email ignored, every phone call dodged, every attempt to catch him at the paddock met with a smirk and a lazy wave as Jeonghan disappeared into his team’s motorhome.
She was running out of patience.
So when she saw him step out of a post-race debrief, still in his fireproofs, sweat-damp curls pushed back from his forehead, she made her move.
“Jeonghan,” she called, quickening her pace as he turned toward the private Ferrari hospitality suite.
He didn’t even slow down.
She reached him before he could disappear, grabbing his wrist. His skin was warm under her fingers. He looked down at her hand, then up at her, amusement flickering in his eyes.
“Desperate, aren’t we?”
Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes. “You’ve been dodging me for weeks.”
“And?” He tilted his head, feigning boredom. “I told you. No interest in interviews.”
“You talk to the press all the time.”
“Exactly. So why should I give you an exclusive?”
Because she needed it. Because her editor was on her ass. Because getting a private interview with the golden boy of Formula 1 would set her career on fire.
But she knew better than to say that.
Instead, she took a breath, steeling herself. “I don’t waste people’s time. You know I’ll make it worth it.”
Jeonghan smiled, slow and knowing. He stepped closer, and she refused to back down, even as he invaded her space.
“Make it worth it, huh?” His voice dropped lower, just for her. “How far are you willing to go for that?”
Her stomach tightened. “Don’t be an ass.”
He laughed. “Oh, sweetheart. I was giving you a chance to walk away.”
Then, before she could react, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him, leading her past the security at the Ferrari suite. The staff barely blinked as Jeonghan dragged her inside, through the sleek, modern lounge, and toward the back where the drivers’ private motorhomes were parked.
The moment they stepped inside his, the door shut with a sharp click.
Y/N barely had time to take in the space expensive leather seats, a polished desk, personal belongings scattered over the counter before Jeonghan was crowding her against the door.
“You want my time?” He braced a hand beside her head, caging her in. “Show me how much you want it.”
Her breath hitched. “You’re joking.”
He smiled, all teeth. “Am I?”
He was testing her. She could feel it. The heat in his gaze, the way he tipped her chin up with a single finger. He wanted to see her hesitate, wanted to watch her struggle.
She hated that it was working.
Her career was on the line. Her pride, too. And the worst part? The part she refused to admit?
Something about the way he looked at her made her stomach flip.
He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it easy for you.”
Then he stepped back, dropping into the leather chair behind the desk, spreading his legs like he had all the time in the world.
“Well?” He drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Let’s see how badly you want that exclusive.”
Y/N swallowed hard. She was in way over her head.
And Jeonghan knew it.
Y/N’s pulse hammered in her throat. She should walk away. She should scoff, roll her eyes, and remind him she was here to do her job, not play into his games.
But Jeonghan had a way of making people do things they swore they never would.
He sat there, watching her, eyes hooded with amusement. One hand rested on the armrest, fingers tapping in a lazy rhythm. The other draped over his thigh, completely at ease, like he already knew how this would end.
Like she was predictable.
Y/N straightened her spine, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “You really think I’m that desperate?”
His smirk deepened. “You tell me.”
She hated him.
She hated the way he looked at her, like he was already bored. She hated that he had ignored her for weeks, only to flip the power dynamic the second she finally cornered him. And most of all, she hated that she was considering giving him what he wanted.
Because she needed this interview.
Because a part of her wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.
Y/N exhaled sharply. “Fine.”
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “Fine?”
She stepped closer. His amusement flickered into something sharper.
“I’ll play your game,” she said, voice steady despite the pulse pounding at the base of her throat. “But when I win, you owe me the interview.”
Jeonghan tilted his head, considering her. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Deal.”
He reached for her wrist, pulling her forward until she was standing between his legs. His touch was light, almost lazy, but it burned against her skin.
“You’re tense,” he murmured, fingers tracing over her palm before he guided her hand down, placing it over his thigh. “Nervous?”
Y/N curled her fingers into a fist, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Jeonghan chuckled. “Relax, sweetheart.”
His free hand slid up her hip, gripping just tight enough to make her breath hitch. He took his time, letting the silence stretch between them, letting her sit in the weight of her own decision.
Then, in one smooth motion, he tugged her down onto his lap.
Y/N let out a sharp gasp, hands landing on his shoulders for balance.
Jeonghan laughed, low and pleased. “That’s better.”
His hands skimmed up her thighs, deliberate and unhurried. He wasn’t rushing. He was taking his time, savoring the way her body reacted even when she was trying to fight it.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders. “Jeonghan—”
“Shh.” He tilted his head up, eyes dark with amusement. “You don’t want the others to hear, do you?”
Y/N stiffened.
She had almost forgotten where they were.
Outside this motorhome, the paddock was still alive with post-race chaos team members moving in and out, media crews packing up equipment, fans lingering beyond the barriers.
If someone knocked. If someone walked in.
Jeonghan saw the realization flicker across her face, and his smirk returned.
“That’s cute,” he murmured. “You’re already thinking about getting caught?”
Her stomach tightened.
He was playing with her. Drawing it out. Letting her feel the full weight of the situation before he even touched her properly.
And worst of all, it was working.
Y/N clenched her jaw. “Get on with it.”
Jeonghan’s grin widened. “So eager.”
Then he reached into the drawer beside him, pulled out his phone, and placed it on the desk.
Y/N blinked. “What are you doing?”
He leaned back, stretching like he had all the time in the world. “I said I’d make it easy for you.”
The screen lit up. A recording app was open.
Y/N’s breath caught.
He tapped the screen, starting the recording. The soft beep of it filled the silence between them.
“Go on, then.” He met her gaze, smug as ever. “Show me how much you want it.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
He wasn’t just going to make her prove herself.
He was going to keep it as leverage.
And she still wasn’t sure if she was going to stop him.
Y/N’s stomach twisted, but she didn’t move.
The red recording light glowed from Jeonghan’s phone, an unspoken threat sitting between them. Her first instinct was to shove him away, snatch the device off the desk, and remind him she wasn’t someone he could toy with.
But that would mean walking away. That would mean giving up.
And the look in Jeonghan’s eyes told her he knew she wouldn’t.
His fingers traced lazy circles over her thighs, waiting. Not pressuring, not forcing. Just watching, smirking, like he had already won.
Like he wanted her to be the one to break.
Y/N exhaled slowly.
Then she reached for the hem of her blouse and pulled it over her head.
Jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, low and pleased. “That’s my girl.”
Her skin prickled under his gaze as he took his time looking at her, eyes dragging over every inch of exposed skin. His hands followed, tracing up her ribs, palming her breasts over the thin fabric of her bra.
“You know,” he murmured, fingers sliding under the straps, pushing them off her shoulders, “most people work their way up to this.”
Y/N let out a shaky breath as he leaned in, brushing his lips over her collarbone, his voice a lazy whisper against her skin.
“But you?” His teeth scraped against her pulse. “You’re so fucking desperate.”
Her nails dug into his shoulders, but she refused to make a sound.
Jeonghan smirked. “Nothing to say, sweetheart?”
Y/N clenched her jaw. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
Jeonghan hummed, amused, before shifting in his seat. In one swift motion, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her back, pulling her flush against him.
The sudden closeness knocked the air from her lungs.
His voice was a slow, taunting drawl. “Let’s see how long that attitude lasts.”
Then his free hand slipped between her legs.
A gasp escaped before she could stop it.
Jeonghan’s grip tightened, pleased. “There she is.”
His fingers teased her through the thin fabric of her skirt, dragging over her clothed heat, slow and unhurried. His touch was maddening too light, too teasing, keeping her on edge but giving her nothing.
“You’re already wet,” he murmured, like he wasn’t completely unsurprised.
Y/N clenched her teeth. “Go fuck yourself.”
Jeonghan laughed, genuinely delighted. “Oh, I like you.”
Then, without warning, he pushed her underwear aside and slid two fingers into her.
Y/N choked on a moan, body tensing.
Jeonghan’s grip on her wrists didn’t loosen, keeping her in place as he worked her open, fingers moving
The worst part was how fucking good he was at this. The way he curled his fingers just right, the way his palm pressed against her clit every time he moved.
He had done this before. Too many times. And he knew exactly how to wreck someone.
Y/N squirmed, fighting against his hold, but it only made him chuckle.
“Poor thing,” he murmured. “You want more?”
She refused to answer.
Jeonghan smirked. Then, slowly, he pulled his fingers out only to drag them up, spreading her wetness over her clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that made her thighs tremble.
Y/N bit down on her lip, refusing to give him the sound he wanted.
“Stubborn,” he murmured, almost fond.
Then he moved faster.
Her whole body jerked, pleasure winding sharp and tight in her stomach. “Nghh..” She didn’t even realize she had let out a sound until Jeonghan laughed, dark and satisfied.
“There it is.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Good girl.”
Her cheeks burned. “Shut up.”
Jeonghan only laughed, his breath warm against her cheek. “You’re cute when you pretend to hate this.”
Y/N clenched her jaw, but it was impossible to fight the way her body betrayed her. The slow drag of his fingers, the lazy, confident pace he wasn’t rushing. He was enjoying this. Drawing it out. Making sure she felt every second of it.
Her wrists ached where he held them behind her back, his grip firm but not painful. A reminder that she was letting this happen. That at any moment, she could pull away.
But she didn’t.
And Jeonghan knew she wouldn’t.
“Still so quiet?” he murmured, lips ghosting along her jaw. “That’s okay. I like making you work for it.”
Then, just as the pleasure started cresting, just as she was teetering on the edge
He stopped.
Y/N gasped, body jerking, a frustrated whimper escaping before she could stop it.
Jeonghan grinned. “There it is.”
She nearly growled, twisting against his hold. “Are you serious?”
He released her wrists just to grab her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You think I was gonna let you have it that easy?”
Her whole body ached, still wound too tight, teetering dangerously close to the edge with nowhere to go.
Jeonghan studied her, smirk curling at the corners of his lips. Then he leaned in, breath brushing against hers.
“Say please.”
Y/N glared.
His thumb traced over her bottom lip. “Come on, sweetheart. You wanna come?”
She clenched her teeth, refusing to play along.
Jeonghan only hummed, unbothered. “Alright.”
Then he pulled away completely.
The sudden loss of contact nearly made her whimper. Her thighs clenched instinctively, seeking friction that wasn’t there.
Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, looking infuriatingly at ease.
“Guess we’re done here,” he mused.
Y/N’s whole body throbbed. She wanted to scream. Or slap him. Or..
She exhaled sharply. Closed her eyes.
Then, through gritted teeth
“…please.” Y/n murmured..
Jeonghan’s smirk deepened.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, fingers trailing up her thigh again, this time achingly slow. “You should’ve just said so.”
Jeonghan hummed in approval, his fingers ghosting over her skin but not giving her what she needed. He wanted her to feel it the frustration, the submission, the realization that he had her exactly where he wanted.
Y/N swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Look at me," he murmured.
She hesitated, but his grip tightened on her thigh, a silent warning. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to his.
He looked pleased.
"See? That wasn't so hard." His hand slipped between her legs again, teasing over the slick heat he had left aching and unsatisfied. "Maybe next time, you'll remember your manners."
Y/N barely bit back a curse.
Then finally he pushed his fingers inside her again.
“Ughh..” A sharp gasp escaped her lips, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body reacted instantly.
Jeonghan chuckled, dark and satisfied. "That's better."
This time, there was no teasing. No slow, lazy buildup. He knew how close she was, knew exactly how to push her right back to the edge, and he did it with practiced ease.
The wet sound of his fingers working into her filled the small space of the motorhome, obscene and undeniable. His palm brushed against her clit with every movement, and her thighs trembled as the pleasure built too fast, too much.
She hated how good he was at this.
"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" His voice was low, coaxing, like he was talking her through it. "Gonna let me hear how bad you needed it?"
Y/N barely had the breath to glare at him.
Jeonghan grinned. "Go on, then. Show me."
She didn't have a choice.
The pleasure slammed into her, sharp and overwhelming. Her body tensed, her back arching against him as the orgasm hit like a sudden crash.
She tried to bite back the moan, but Jeonghan wasn't having that.
He curled his fingers just right, drawing it out, forcing another gasp from her lips.
"There you go," he murmured, voice full of dark amusement. "Knew you'd be good for me."
Y/N shuddered against him, the aftershocks leaving her weak and trembling in his lap.
Jeonghan finally pulled his fingers from her, dragging them up her thigh as if to remind her exactly what had just happened.
Then just to make sure she really felt it.
He grabbed his phone from the desk and tapped the screen.
The recording app was still running.
Y/N's stomach dropped.
Her eyes snapped to his, breath catching. "You—"
Jeonghan smirked.
Then he pressed stop.
For a second, she just stared at him, heart still racing, pulse still pounding in her ears.
"You-" she tried again, but she couldn't even form the words.
Jeonghan only tilted his head, as relaxed as ever, the phone now spinning lazily between his fingers.
"Don't look so surprised, sweetheart," he murmured, tucking the device into his pocket.
"Consider this…" He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
"Insurance." Jeonghan murmured.
Y/N’s breath hitched.
She should have seen this coming.
And from the look in Jeonghan’s eyes, he knew that too.
"Well" he murmured, his hands still lazily trailing over her bare skin. "I’d say that was a fair trade, wouldn’t you?"
Her nails dug into his shoulders.
"Give me my fucking interview." Y/n said.
Jeonghan just laughed.
Then he tilted her chin up and kissed her.
Hard.
Possessive.
Like he had just won.
And worst of all—
Y/N wasn’t sure if she had lost.
a/n - are yall ready for the next chapters? stay tuned.
a/n: this series leans heavily into corruption and possession, but it’s not extreme smut more about power, obsession, and the slow descent into wanting to be owned. expect manipulation, toxic dynamics, and a very possessive jeonghan who always gets what he wants. if that’s your thing, welcome aboard. if not, consider this your warning!
#CH2 — You're Not Gonna Moan, Are You?
Y/N barely had time to recover before she was thrown back into work.
The post-race press conference was set up in one of the larger media rooms, cameras stationed at the front, reporters crowding into rows of chairs. The top three drivers sat on an elevated stage, each at their own podium, microphones in front of them, the bright lights overhead casting a sharp glare.
Jeonghan, of course, was right in the middle.
He looked as calm and put together as ever, dressed in his Ferrari team polo, his damp hair now neatly styled. If she hadn’t been in his motorhome less than an hour ago, legs shaking from what he had done to her, she never would have guessed.
Y/N took her seat in the press section, notebook in hand, pretending her hands weren’t still unsteady.
She was here as a professional. She was going to do her job.
And she was going to pretend Jeonghan’s gaze wasn’t already locked onto her like he knew exactly what she was trying to do.
The moderator started the conference with a few general questions, letting the other two drivers talk about the race while Jeonghan leaned back, looking effortlessly bored.
Y/N did her best to ignore him. She focused on her notes, on what she needed to ask, on keeping her breathing even.
Then her phone buzzed.
She hesitated before glancing down.
A message.
From Jeonghan.
"How’s my girl holding up?"
Her grip on the pen tightened.
She didn’t react. She didn’t look at him. She kept her expression perfectly neutral.
Another buzz.
"You look good like this. All serious. No one would guess what you let me do to you."
Heat crawled up her neck.
She swallowed, flipping to a new page in her notebook as if she hadn’t read it.
Another buzz.
"You’re not sore, are you?"
She clenched her jaw.
This was a game. She knew that.
And she refused to play.
Jeonghan, however, wasn’t one to be ignored.
Her phone vibrated again.
"Want me to remind you? Bet you’d still be dripping if I touched you."
Her breath hitched.
She didn’t dare look up. She knew if she did, he’d be watching. Amused. Smug. Waiting for her to slip.
She focused on the interview.
One of the other reporters asked a question about Jeonghan’s tire strategy, and he finally spoke, voice smooth, completely at ease.
"Yeah, we knew it was gonna be a long stint, but I wasn’t too worried. It’s all about control, right?"
Y/N knew that was meant for her.
She forced herself to scribble a note in the margins of her page, pretending her hand wasn’t trembling.
Her phone buzzed again.
"You’re not gonna moan, are you?"
She barely held in a sharp inhale.
It was too much. She was already on edge, her body still sensitive, still remembering every second in that motorhome. And now Jeonghan was sitting there, in front of cameras, teasing her like it was nothing.
She needed to pull herself together.
Y/N lifted her hand, signaling for the next question.
The moderator nodded at her. "Go ahead."
She cleared her throat. "Jeonghan, can you talk us through your last few laps? The radio messages made it sound like you were holding back a bit."
Jeonghan smiled.
Oh, he was enjoying this.
"Good question," he said, his tone smooth and even. "Yeah, the team was telling me to manage my pace, but I knew I could push harder. Had to make sure I finished strong, right?"
His eyes flicked to hers, amusement dancing behind them.
She knew what he was implying.
Y/N tightened her grip on her pen, willing herself to stay composed.
Then, just as he finished his answer, her phone vibrated again.
"Bet you’re squeezing your thighs together right now."
Her breath caught.
She was.
Jeonghan’s smirk deepened. He shifted slightly in his seat, just enough for her to notice. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Her thighs clenched involuntarily, pulse hammering.
Then another buzz.
"Be a good girl and keep quiet."
Y/N swallowed hard, fingers gripping the edge of her notebook.
She couldn’t do this.
She was too close to breaking, too close to giving something away.
Jeonghan watched her, waiting.
Then, just to make it worse
He licked his lips, slow and deliberate, his fingers tapping idly against his microphone.
Her stomach flipped.
The next question came from another reporter.
"Jeonghan, before the race, you looked really relaxed. What were you doing to stay so calm under pressure?"
Jeonghan chuckled.
"Nothing special," he said, eyes flickering back to Y/N, watching her squirm. "Just had a little fun before things got serious."
Y/N's breath caught in her throat.
No one in the room had any idea what he really meant.
But she did.
And from the way Jeonghan’s smirk widened, she knew he wanted her to think about it.
The heat between her legs was unbearable, her thighs trembling. She fought to keep still, to keep her expression neutral, to not let him win.
But it was impossible when he was this good.
The moderator cleared his throat.
"Alright, I think that wraps things up. Thanks, everyone."
The press conference ended.
Jeonghan pushed his chair back, stretching lazily.
Then just to really drive it in
He caught her gaze, ran his tongue across his bottom lip, and winked.
Y/N’s stomach plummeted.
Jeonghan smirked.
Then he leaned toward his mic, voice barely above a whisper.
"That was cute," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
