SUNDAY | Seven | Smg X F!reader

SUNDAY | Seven | smg x f!reader

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

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

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

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not tonight, it seems. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But my hands are all-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe also more needy than he ever has before. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mingi wouldn’t have it any other way. 

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

Seven Masterlist

My Masterlist

SATURDAY | Seven | smg xf!reader

You love when I jump right in All of me I'm offering Show you what devotion is Deeper than the ocean is

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.8k | Pairing: smg x f!reader | Genre: smut, romance

Warnings: biting/marking, praise kink, oral f. rec., fingering, kitchen sex

Reader Notes: wears skirts and dresses, has breasts and a vagina, gets lifted by mingi

Mingi leans over the sauce pan and takes in a deep breath through his nose to check the garlic and shallots as they saute over low heat. They need a couple more minutes to become fragrant, and those minutes give Mingi just enough time to get the rest of his ingredients out. A tube of tomato paste, a few tablespoons of vodka, and a cup of heavy cream are lined up on the counter, along with a block of parmesan and some butter. 

He opens and squeezes the tomato paste into the sizzling sauce pan just as you breeze into the kitchen wrapped in a towel, your skin dewy and your hair up. 

“How long do I have?” You ask, wrapping your hand around his elbow and leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Twenty or so minutes,” he estimates, stirring the paste into the aromatics until the mixture smooths out before turning his head and stealing a real kiss. You giggle into his mouth, cupping his face with lotion-soft hands and kissing him breathless, and then you pull away. 

You pull away, and Mingi is too dazed to catch you as you dart from the kitchen. He just stands there, one hand wrapped around a wooden spoon and the other holding the handle of the pan, and tries to remember what he was doing before you came in. 

He was cooking, he knows that, but where in the recipe was he? What steps are left? There’s cooked pasta on the counter, so he did that already, at least. There’s also an uncapped tube of tomato paste and oh, that’s where he was. 

It’s simmered more than long enough by now, and he slowly pours in the vodka to deglaze the pan, stirring until it’s all evaporated before adding the pasta water he kept. He lets it come back to a boil as he stirs, the mixture becoming smooth and bright and fragrant. 

“Okay, outfit number one,” your voice sounds behind him, and he tries to contain the rush of giddiness that comes when he realizes you’re going to give him a fashion show. You don’t do it often, just when you’re having a date night in and you have the energy, so Mingi absolutely adores these nights. The twinkle in your eye, the extra pep in your step, the cute little twirls you do to show off the whole outfit, he loves it all. 

He turns in place and attempts to keep his face smooth, to pretend to be critical, as he takes you in. You’re wearing a short, light pink dress, with lace and little embroidered strawberries and bows on the straps, and as you spin for him, he notices you’ve got matching bows in your hair. You look gorgeous, adorable, radiant, and he doesn’t even have to think to say, “One million out of ten, baby.”

He reaches for your hips, only to feel his face fall in a pout when you skip out of the way and out of the room, calling, “Next!” over your shoulder as you go. Sighing, he returns to dinner and tries to figure out where he was again. 

The cup of pasta water is empty, so it must be time to add the cream. He stirs as he pours, reducing the heat when the sauce has smoothed out and opening up the parmesan to start grating it. 

“Outfit number two!” You sing as you glide into view, wearing one of his favorite tops and a skirt he hasn’t seen before. His hands freeze as he looks you up and down, his heart racing at the sight of you. The shirt is light, buttery yellow silk, and something about the way it molds to your tits always makes Mingi’s head spin. It goes perfectly with the white, flowy skirt you chose, the whole outfit making you look like sunshine embodied. 

It’s just as sweet as the last, but with a different vibe, and Mingi wonders what the final outfit will be. He doesn’t even try to touch you this time, knowing both that you’re too quick for him and that he’s got cheese hands. Instead he beams and says, “Fuckin’ beautiful, baby.”

You preen at his words, your pleased little smile pushing your cheeks up as you smooth your hands down your body, ironing out invisible wrinkles. 

“You’ve got ten minutes,” he warns before you can ask, giving the sauce a stir and returning to his cheese grating when you squeak and fly away. He misses you instantly but reminds himself you’ll be back before he knows it. Dinner requires his attention anyway, the parm and butter just sitting there, waiting to be added. 

Both go into the bubbling sauce, along with some fresh ground salt and pepper, and as he lets it all meld together, he starts cleaning up. With just a minute to spare, you rush into the kitchen, sliding on socked feet and stealing his breath. 

You’re wearing thigh high socks. That’s literally all Mingi can register. He doesn’t know what else you’re wearing, can’t hear what you’re saying, doesn’t even notice the timer going off. All he knows is you’re wearing thigh high socks, and he’s so gone for you. 

He only drags his gaze from your legs when you start moving toward him, his arms opening on instinct as you step into his space and reach up. He’s not sure what you’re doing, but you could do anything to him and he’d be happy about it, thankful even. He’s a little disappointed when he finds that you were just turning off the microwave timer, but he’ll survive if it means he gets to keep looking at you.

“I guess this one’s your favorite?” You tease, switching the burner to low and turning in a slow circle for him. Finally, he takes in the rest of your outfit, a cute little pajama set, and his face crumples in defeat when he sees the way your knit shorts hug your ass. 

“Fuck, baby. Yeah, this one’s my favorite,” he practically groans, his hands burning with the desire to touch, to take, to consume. He abandons the stove, the wooden spoon clattering onto the spoon rest as he takes you by the hips and lifts you to sit on the freshly cleaned island. 

Your hands fly to his shoulders, holding tight and keeping him close when he starts to pull away. 

“Lemme eat you out, baby. Hm?” Mingi murmurs in your ear, pressing kisses down your throat as he waits for your answer. 

“Shouldn’t we eat dinner first?” You ask halfheartedly, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. 

“This is our place, baby, we make the rules. If we want dessert before dinner, we can have dessert before dinner,” he speaks low and slow, feeling very much like the devil on your shoulder and not minding at all. 

“Okay,” you shrug and sigh happily, blissfully, a smile brightening your voice as he tugs you right up to the edge of the counter. Your hands fall away from his shoulders to brace behind your back, your hips lifting when he curls his fingertips in the waistband of your shorts and starts to pull. 

He’s careful pulling them over your socks, folds them up and places them next to you on the island before sinking to his knees and biting a mark into your inner thigh, just above where the socks pinch. 

“Why have I never seen these before?” He asks softly, running his hands over your calves and wrapping his hands around your ankles to spread your legs wider. 

“They’re new, I bought them with the set I wore on Tuesday,” you gasp as he takes hold of one leg and hefts it up onto his shoulder, doing the same with your other leg before nuzzling into your pussy and taking a deep breath. 

“I fuckin’ love them,” he mutters against you, knowing you can feel his words better than you can hear them. 

“Good, I bought them for you.” 

He thanks you by licking through your folds to find your clit, a loud moan leaving his lips as soon as your taste hits his tongue. He wonders how long you’ve been wet, if you started off your little fashion show with damp panties and wicked intent, or if every wardrobe change made you hotter. 

He’s not curious enough to tear himself away from you, too entranced by your weeping pussy to even consider pulling away long enough to ask. All he cares about is getting more of you on his tongue, in his mouth, on his face. 

He wants you all over him, and with determined fingers, he starts to search for the spot that will make you gush. He knows he’s got it when you buck into his touch and curl up around him, whimpering his name in a voice that makes his cock twitch. 

The ache is distracting, and he reaches down to undo his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down just far enough for his dick to pop out. He sighs in relief as he tucks them under his balls, squeezing the base of his cock once just to tide himself over, the feeling of your walls wrapping around his fingers making it throb. 

He grinds into that spongy patch with his fingertips and slides his tongue from your clit to your entrance to catch the arousal that seeps out, an encouraging groan leaving him as he swallows you down. He’s never been more thankful for his nose, the size and shape of it perfect for you to rub your clit against while he shoves his tongue inside you along with his fingers. 

Your cunt clamps down like you don’t want him to move, but he knows that just means you’re getting close, knows he should fuck you through the tightness, knows you can take it even though your socked thighs are trembling on his shoulders and you’re crying like you can’t. 

“You can do it, baby. You can cum for me, I know you can,” Mingi pulls his tongue out to coo roughly, his fingertips still working your g-spot. You open one teary eye, peeking down at him, and he grins sharply, his lips swollen and shiny with you, before he wraps them around your clit and sucks hard. 

The sound is obscene but the result is divine, a rush of wetness flowing out of your fluttering cunt  as you writhe in pleasure above him, your whimpers and soaking wet pussy making his dick throb against his thigh. 

He could stop, but his knees don’t hurt yet and his tongue still works, so why should he?

Dinner will hold, and if it doesn’t, there’s always takeout. 

pls reblog if you enjoyed!! as always, i would love to hear your thoughts 💖

Seven Masterlist

My Masterlist

The Way to His Heart [9]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.2k

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

Part 8 | Fic Masterlist | Part 10

Standing in front of the door to your former prison, all your insecurities came rushing back. Suddenly, your newfound identity seemed to evaporate, leaving you feeling like nothing more than a shell of your past self.

"What's wrong, my dear? Why do you keep staring at this storeroom, hm? You know you can tell me anything." Seonghwa asked in a gentle voice, sensing that you were far from okay. He cupped your cheek tenderly, urging you to meet his gaze.

Jongho and Eunsook stood anxiously behind you, waiting for you to reveal the truth to the general. Only then could they finally bring your family to justice for their misdeeds. The weight of everyone's expectations rested on your shoulders.

Please, mistress, just say it, and we will handle the rest.

No matter how hard your husband tried to capture your attention, all you could see was beyond his shoulder, where your family glowered at you. All the determination you had to confront your family diminished, and you were reminded of your true self.

Just a worthless, insignificant piece.

You felt undeserving of Seonghwa's love, too ashamed to confess that this pitiful excuse for a room was where you had spent your entire caged childhood. Would he still want you as his wife if he discovered the truth?

"Come on, my dear. Talk to me, please." The general leaned in, attempting to dominate your field of vision. He didn't like how you kept glancing nervously back at your family as if still afraid of what they could do to you.

Your husband's heart shattered as he gazed once more into your vacant, hopeless eyes. It felt as if he could never truly connect with you. Once again, he found himself lost, unable to reach you. It became clear that your biggest obstacle wasn't trusting him; it was trusting yourself. Despite all his efforts, your insecurities persisted.

Bringing you back to this place seemed like a colossal mistake, undoing all the progress you had made. The words Hongjoong had spoken to you were now pushed to the recesses of your mind, overshadowed by your demons.

Seonghwa's stomach sank when you averted your gaze, blinking your wet eyes with a shake of your head, "Nothing, it's nothing. I... I'm sorry, I don't know why I kept looking here; it's just an old storeroom, as you can see." Your family collectively sighed in relief, narrowly avoiding exposure. For once, they felt slightly thankful to you for not ratting them out.

Of course, it couldn't have been this easy.

Despite the internal frustration, the general flashed a reassuring smile down at you. His plan had crumbled, and you didn't speak up as he had hoped. The head maid and assistant couldn't conceal their disappointment at the missed opportunity.

Casting a glance at his assistant to silently acknowledge the failure of the plan, he squeezed your trembling hand, "It's alright, nothing to be sorry about. Well, if that is all, perhaps we can begin discussing the wedding arrangements then."

Minister Jang immediately brightened, "Of course, let us get on with it. I'm sure we have much to discuss."

With a subtle shake of his head, Jongho signalled to the private investigator that the plan wasn't unfolding as expected. Noticing the exchanged glances, your father raised an eyebrow, "Wooyoung, do you and the general's assistant know each other?"

Both froze momentarily, cursing inwardly at their lack of caution. The fake servant beamed innocently at the minister, "Oh yes, master! I thought he looked familiar; turns out we were from the same village!"

The assistant nodded along quickly with a wide smile, "Yes, what a small world."

Fortunately, the fabricated story seemed convincing, and your father nodded without suspicion, "Huh, what are the odds? Just don't let me catch you slacking off. If you want to catch up, do it after work."

Wooyoung grinned quickly, "Yes, master!" before bowing deeply. Glancing at the general for approval, he was relieved to see Seonghwa nodding lightly, silently expressing 'good job'. His heart raced, still finding it surreal that he was looking at his role model up close and being acknowledged.

Resettling into the main hall, your husband couldn't hide his concern for you. He maintained a firm grip on your hand, a constant reminder of his presence and an attempt to provide comfort despite your lack of reaction to anything. Eunsook, noting your distress, made a point to stay close behind you, silently assuring you of her support.

"Alright then, where should we begin?" Minister Jang clapped his hands together, eager to get it all over with as soon as possible.

Seated opposite you, your three sisters were still seething, their attention fixed on the general's unwavering touch on you. Refusing to concede defeat, they were determined to fight for Seonghwa, unwilling to witness you marrying their dream man in a grand wedding ceremony. He was too good for you.

She doesn't deserve him.

Before the two men could delve into any details, Jinhee, tired of her sisters always being a step ahead, seized the opportunity to speak up, "General Park, I believe I would make a better wife than unnie ever could. I urge you to change your mind and consider choosing me."

Jinah and Jinjoo scowled, feeling a sense of betrayal as they hadn't anticipated the sudden spiritedness from their middle sister. She had always been the calmest among the three. It appeared that the allure of the general was potent enough to pit them against each other for the first time.

The minister smacked a hand on his face in disbelief, growing tired of his stepdaughter's obnoxious behaviour. Just as he opened his mouth to reprimand her, the other two chimed in loudly, "No, I'd make a better wife!" before glaring at each other.

Pressing a kiss onto your knuckles to rile them up, your husband stared at the girls with an amused grin, "Really? Do you think you'd make a better wife? Why don't you each tell me why you think so? I'll consider it."

It was apparent that the general was merely toying with them, but the three were oblivious and engaged in a heated debate among themselves, striving to convince Seonghwa that each of them would make the ideal wife for him.

Meanwhile, you silently accepted your fate, believing that your husband was present to entertain the idea of replacing you with one of your stepsisters. If that's what he desired, who were you to object? You considered yourself fortunate to have been sent to him, and now that he had seen your sisters, perhaps he sought someone better than your useless self.

The general burst into a fit of vicious laughter, singling out the middle sister who promptly straightened up, "You," he pointed, "it seems like you have the most convincing argument. I suppose that makes you the most suitable for me, doesn't it?"

Jinhee vigorously nodded, "Yes, my lord!"

With a sly smile, he continued, "Very well, I'll consider marrying you, but on one condition that your father must agree to," Her eyes widened in excitement while her sisters clenched their fists in frustration, dissatisfied with her being chosen, "Anything! Just name it, and you shall have it!"

"If Minister Jang agrees to retire from his position and let me take over, then I guess I'll think about it."

Your father heaved a deep sigh, frowning at the foolish girl in irritation, "That's enough, Jinhee. Are you even hearing yourself? None of that will ever happen. I'm sure the general is only joking around."

Her stubbornness prevailed as she continued to press, "Father, this is for my happiness! If you loved me, you would agree to that!"

Even her own mother, finally sober enough, shook her head disapprovingly, "Stop it, Jinhee. Do you know what it would mean for the rest of us if your father were to retire?"

Having enjoyed the comedic display, Seonghwa chuckled darkly, "Your father's right; I was only playing with you. After all, I couldn't possibly marry you, even if he had agreed to that condition."

"Why is that?!" She questioned, still determined to have him for herself. She hated the sight of him cradling your hand; it should be her beside him. She had gotten so close to having him earlier that she refused to let the opportunity slip away so quickly.

For some reason, the minister couldn't shake off the ominous feeling he was getting from your husband's smugness. Something wasn't right; this felt oddly like a trap.

In a mock-innocent voice, the general answered, "Isn't it simple? Because you're not even Minister Jang's legitimate daughter; you do realise you're merely his stepdaughter, right?"

Your father and stepmother's eyes immediately widened, knowing exactly where this was going. Before they could do anything to stop it, Jinhee yelled out, "But I am father's real daughter!"

Gotcha, bitch.

Jongho and Eunsook did their best to suppress the growing grins on their faces, relieved that at least their master's plan B seemed to have worked out. During the assistant's time away from the estate, working with Wooyoung, they had managed to confirm the general's suspicions about the three being Minister Jang's actual daughters.

This revelation itself was enough to bring him down, as the three were born when your mother was still alive. And if they were, in fact, his, that would mean he had been disloyal to his wife and had fathered bastard children outside. This was more than enough to tarnish his reputation for good.

Rising abruptly from his seat, the minister cleared his throat loudly, "General Park, please don't take her words seriously. Clearly, she only said that out of desperation. The girl is still young and doesn't know when to stop; do not mind her. Come, let us take our discussion somewhere else."

"Save it, minister. If she isn't your daughter, where would she have gotten the confidence to voice that out loud? Don't make me laugh." Seonghwa retorted coldly.

Finally, you lifted your head to stare at the old man upon hearing the revelation. Could it be true? You didn't know if it was supposed to make you feel any better, but you used to question why your father had treated you so badly when you were his only real daughter. Now, it would make more sense, at least.

Scoffing, Minister Jang clenched his fists, "I would advise you to be careful with your words, general. After all, it wouldn't be too wise of you to slander your father-in-law and superior so carelessly like that. What would His Majesty think of you being unfilial and disrespectful to me?"

If your father thought that threat could save him, he was wrong; it seemed he was only digging himself a deeper grave.

The general peered amusingly at him through his lashes, "You know, it's really funny you should say that. Would it still be considered slander if I had evidence to back up my claims? Oh, minister, you should not have brought the King into this. He was already so disappointed in you when he learned of the truth about you and your dirty deeds throughout the years."

"Wh-what do you mean by that?" The minister stammered, visibly trembling in his spot, and his family could only sit back with terror in their eyes, not knowing what your husband had uncovered.

"Minister Jang, did you really think the King had allowed me to come here just to make wedding arrangements with you? I'd rather burn in hell than have you host my wedding, especially after what you had done to my wife in all the years she had been under your care. I'm only here for your confession, under His Majesty's orders."

A series of gasps rang across the hall as your stepmother and stepsisters froze in their seats, the realisation finally hitting them that they had been under scrutiny this whole time. It became apparent since the minister's suspicious behaviour at the assembly.

Little did everyone know that Seonghwa's investigative work had been funded by the King himself the entire time. The two had shared a deep conversation after the assembly; what initially started off as idle chatter regarding the general's new wife transitioned into a serious discussion as your husband revealed what he discovered about the minister thanks to your arrival.

Your eyes widened at Seonghwa's words, wondering if he had known all along about what had happened to you. Feeling your gaze on him, he turned to face you with a soft smile, "I told you I'd protect you."

Feeling your heart flutter and eyes tearing up with tears of relief, you finally squeezed his hand back, "Thank you, Seonghwa."

Cutting your moment short, your father shook his head in denial, "You're lying. Nice try, General Park. I'm not falling for your trick. If you were telling the truth, why would His Majesty have bothered to send you here when he could have just arrested me?"

Turning back to face the old man, your husband smirked, "Now, where would all the fun be in that? Of course, I didn't expect you to admit everything to me so easily. It was fun watching all of you panic in front of the so-called storeroom earlier. I hope you enjoyed the temporary relief, courtesy of my lovely wife. Someone, bring the minister a chair before we start recounting all the interesting things he's done so far."

Jongho was more than happy to help, "Yes, sir!" He promptly moved a chair to the centre of the hall where the minister stood before returning to his position behind his master.

Your stepmother and stepsisters remained glued to their seats, hearts filled with dread. Jinhee regretted her every action immediately, not that it made much difference. They were already doomed from the moment they delivered you to him.

"Will you not sit, Minister Jang?" Seonghwa teased, and when the old man glared at him, he shrugged, unbothered, "Suit yourself. Let us begin then."

The general stretched a waiting hand in his assistant's direction and waited as the younger man fished a few documents out from his pockets, "Here you go, sir."

"Alright, let's see, where should we start?"

With a devilish grin, your husband flipped through the pages, addressing the minister, "So, were you denying that these three are your biological daughters? Not to worry, I have just the thing to prove it. See, we have their birth certificates and the fake ones you forged right here. You bribed your physician quite a bit for these, huh? Well, it seems the amount you paid was not nearly enough since he spilt everything to us so easily."

The minister's wife pointed a shaky finger at the papers in Seonghwa's hands, "Th-that's not possible. How did you get your hands on those documents?"

"Ah, so you admit these are yours?" The general raised a brow, "I get it; it's hard not to when the only copies to exist were found in your private quarters, hm? I'll have precious Wooyoung to thank for these. Come here, boy. You should be so proud of yourself."

"Thank you, my lord! I'll work harder!"

In front of the minister and his family, the mole finally unveiled himself. All five of them could only gape at the new employee who had recently joined the estate. They praised him for his work and even thought of him as a hard worker. Suddenly, it all made sense why he always seemed too eager to help around. He had been snooping around for the enemy all along.

Your father pointed accusingly at the fake staff member of his estate, "Y-you traitor—"

"How can he be a traitor when he was never on your side to begin with? Let's not change the subject, alright? Now, let us conclude the number of crimes you've committed here; first, you've cheated on your wife and had not only one but three illegitimate children outside of your home. I must say, minister, you're setting a horrible example for the married men in all of Joseon." Seonghwa shook his head in disapproval.

"Next, you've bribed your physician to silence him and then get him to further commit the crime of forging official documents for you. I guess this could have been understandable if it had been a silly little commoner not knowing any better, but my goodness, you are our nation's Minister of Military Affairs! What would the people think of us if they knew their leaders were this unethical?"

"And the worst of it all, you kept my wife caged in that pathetic excuse of a room all her life. You all had a hand in her suffering and abused her endlessly, all for your own entertainment. And what had she done that was so wrong to deserve any of that? Just because she was born from the wife you did not choose and love?" The general spat, feeling his heart ache and anger rise.

It was your turn to rub a thumb softly over his skin to remind him that you were fine now; you were loved and cared for, all because of him. He tightened his hold on your hand, vowing to get you justice.

"Can any of you even call yourselves human?" He growled, glaring at your family. Your stepsisters trembled, avoiding his death stare, feeling like complete idiots, especially after their stupid little innocent act earlier. Why did they even believe for a second that they could have fooled him?

With a deep breath, Seonghwa put on a sarcastic smile, "And with all of that, it should be enough for you to be stripped of your title and for your entire family to be demoted from a noble house to commoners."

The old man's knees went weak, and he ended up plopping into the chair Jongho had placed behind him. Clenching his fists, he shook his head again, "No, you can't do this to us. You can't do this to me. I've dedicated my life to this job and this country. I have contributed so much—"

Smirking, the general cut him off, "Why? Are you unsatisfied with this conclusion? I expected no less from you, you ungrateful bastard. Fine, I guess we'll have no choice but to dive deeper and talk about your most severe crime then."

There's... more?

Furrowing your brows, you wondered what other horrible things your father could have possibly done. Everything that your husband had already listed seemed like a lot to you.

Your stepmother gasped loudly, clutching onto her chest as she took in the general's wicked grin, "He knows..."

Jinah frowned, grabbing her mother's arm in confusion, "What is it? What does he know? What else has father done?" The other two sisters stared at their parents, who looked scared for their lives.

"Yes, I do know, Lady Jang. Did you really think the two of you could keep your dirty little secret hidden forever? As if adultery and illegal document forgery weren't bad enough, you were both audacious enough to commit murder against an innocent person."

Minister Jang and his wife shared a horrified glance, realising that the veil of secrecy they had meticulously woven was now unravelling before them. The colour drained from their faces, and beads of sweat formed on their foreheads.

The mistress of the Jang estate stammered in fear, "N-no, that's not true! You're making baseless accusations, General Park. We haven't committed any murder!"

The general remained unfazed, a cold stare fixed upon them, "Really? You haven't? Then tell me, why do the two of you seem so afraid? You weren't trembling with fear when you poisoned the first Lady Jang to death, and you certainly weren't afraid when you robbed my wife of her mother."

Staring at your father and stepmother in horror, a wave of disbelief crashed over you. The revelation hit like a tidal wave, leaving you stunned and paralysed. The people you thought were simply cruel for torturing you all your life had now revealed a more sinister truth – they were the reason you never knew your own mother.

The shock and betrayal etched across your face, your eyes locked onto theirs as the weight of their sins settled in. It wasn't just about the abuse and mistreatment; they had orchestrated a tragedy that deprived you of the one person who could have brought warmth and love into your life.

"And what evidence do you have to prove that?" The minister finally mustered the courage to challenge the accusations, still putting up a fight. His three daughters, nearly as shocked as you were by the revelation, couldn't fathom that their parents might have actually taken someone's life.

Seonghwa remained unyielding, maintaining his cold gaze, "Not to worry, I have it all right here." He gestured to the documents Wooyoung held, revealing a series of letters exchanged between the couple all those years ago detailing the best way to end someone's life and make it look like a natural death, as though they had succumbed to an ordinary illness.

"Isn't it an uncanny coincidence that the physician confessed to the first Lady Jang dying from mandrake poisoning, and simultaneously, there is an abundance of mandrake planted in your garden? Alongside these incriminating letters, everything aligns seamlessly. There's nothing you can say to undermine this evidence, minister. Would you care to explain your actions now?"

Minister Jang's face contorted with defiance and anger. He took a deep breath before finally admitting, "Fine, it's true. I did it; I killed that woman. But you have to understand; the first Lady Jang ruined my life. I never wanted to marry her in the first place. It was a political arrangement forced upon me to please her influential family. They held more power than I did at the time."

His eyes darted around, gauging the reactions of those present, especially his daughters, "I clawed my way up, working tirelessly to reach my position as Minister of Military Affairs. I didn't need her family anymore. So, I did her a favour – I ended her unhappy marriage and made room for the person I truly loved."

He looked at his current wife with a twisted sense of affection, completely ignoring the horrified expressions around him, "I had to make a choice for my own happiness. No one understands the sacrifices I've made for this family and for the sake of my love. It was the only way."

"If you hated my mother so much, why did you bother having me then?" You finally croaked, voice breaking as you choked back tears. Seonghwa pulled you close to him, never wanting you to go through any more pain alone.

Your father let out a scoff of displeasure, "I never wanted you. You were just another duty to please your mother's family. When she died, I refused to let any of them near you out of spite. You were a constant reminder of her, a spitting image that angered me every time I looked at you. That's why I hated you so much."

His admission hung heavily in the air, each word cutting through the silence like a knife. Your eyes, filled with sorrow, met his cold, callous gaze. Your husband tightened his hold on you, offering silent comfort as the painful truth unravelled.

"And there we have it, the confession His Majesty wanted. Royal Secretary Choi, did you manage to get all of that?" The general called out with a smirk.

To the minister's horror, the King's closest and most trusted aide emerged from the entrance, flanked by a team of royal guards, "I sure did, General Park. You've done well; we'll take it from here. His Majesty shall decide the Jang family's final sentencing."

« Preview of Part 10 »

As Eunsook followed her master's orders to assist you out of the hall and to the waiting carriage at once, your husband stayed behind to express gratitude to the dedicated private investigator.

"You've worked hard, Wooyoung. I assure you we will compensate you for your excellent performance. You didn't have to help us this far, but you did, and I appreciate it."

The younger man enthusiastically bowed, "It's my pleasure, sir! I'm a huge fan of yours; I think people don't appreciate you enough for defending our country! Those who think you are heartless are clearly mistaken. If only they'd seen you today. You are a wonderful husband, my lord. It's reassuring to know Lady Park has you."

Clearing his throat, the general looked away and fought the faint blush dusting his cheeks, "I'm glad you think so. I can only hope she thinks the same."

Wooyoung grinned, "I'm sure she does, my lord. I've seen how Lady Park looks at you; I can tell you mean a lot to her too," Seeing Jongho approaching to escort his master out, the informant bowed one final time, "It was an honour working for you, sir. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you ever need my services again!"

Seonghwa nodded appreciatively, "I'll keep that in mind."

Just as he turned to leave, the royal secretary came up to him, "Before you go, General Park, His Majesty wishes to meet you and Lady Park soon to discuss your actual wedding arrangements."

Nodding lightly, the general replied, "Got it, I'll see you then."

"Oh, and one last thing; I know you've both been through a lot, but the worst is over. I wish you and your wife happiness."

"Thank you, San."

Y'all I'm not even gonna lie, this part literally gave me a whole ass headache LMFAO I hope this felt satisfying enough! Of course, we still don't know what consequences the evil family are about to suffer muahaha😈

Also, the second mood board depicting the general's estate is out! Go take a look if you haven't already!

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

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231225 Crazy Form

TUESDAY | Seven | smg x f!reader

Goin' to the sun up, we ain't gettin' no sleep Seven days a week, seven different sheets Seven different angles, I can be your fantasy

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.0k | Pairing: smg x f!reader | Genre: smut, romance

Warnings: tit fucking, overstimulation, piv sex, mating press, creampie, cockwarming

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, wears lingerie

Mingi has never been able to decide if he’s an ass, thighs, or tits guy when it comes to you. In his previous relationships, he’s always been able to identify one of the three as his favorite. 

With you, it’s impossible. Your ass is immaculate, the perfect size for his hands to squeeze and smack and, sometimes, spank. Your thighs are lush, thick, soft, and he loves feeling them wrapped around his waist when he’s fucking you, and his wrist when he’s fingering you, and his head when he’s eating you out. And your tits… 

Your tits were molded by the gods themselves, painstakingly and meticulously formed by the hands that create life. They were placed on your body because you’re the only one who deserves them, and Mingi is the luckiest bastard on this planet to get to touch them and hold them and suck them and love them. 

And fuck them. 

God, does he love fucking them. 

It doesn’t do much for you so he doesn’t ask for it often, but some days, all he can think about is getting his aching cock between your perfect breasts. He loves feeling them press up against his length, adores the way they look sandwiching his dick as you push them up and together for him to fuck. 

Today is one of those days. 

He woke with his head resting on your chest, your heartbeat thumping under his cheek in a soothing rhythm as you dozed. The softness of your tits lulled him back to sleep in no time, and when he blinked awake later, it was to an empty bedroom and the lingering scent of your perfume. You warned him you needed to go into work early, but still he mourned not getting a kiss goodbye. 

At the office, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your sweet smile and your dulcet voice and the way your tits look in your work bra before you cover them up with a blouse. He didn’t get to see them this morning, but he hoped he’d get to see them tonight and that was enough to keep the thought on his mind all day. 

Even through the commute back to the apartment, you occupied every corner of his brain. Your favorite song played in the back of his mind, and he wondered the whole way home if you’d make it there before him, if you’d get undressed and take a shower and be waiting for him in bed like you like to do sometimes. 

He loves those times, loves coming home to find you naked and soft and ready for him, but he also loves getting home before you and getting right to cooking so you have a hot meal waiting on the table after a long day’s work. Your car was in your spot when he pulled in, and he tried to tell himself not to expect you to be in bed. 

You had to go into the office early, and work all the way till the end of the day, and Mingi expected you to be tired and perhaps a little cranky. 

He definitely didn’t expect you to greet him at the door in lingerie, but that’s exactly what you did. He tried to usher you to the bedroom, but you just placed a hand on his chest and said, “Dinner first.”

He still can’t stop staring at you, even as he brings bites of food to his mouth and attempts to make conversation. Why you’re torturing him like this, he doesn’t know, but it’s taking absolutely everything he has not to spread you out on this table and rip your pretty underwear at the seams. 

“Is this new?” He asks, his eyes caught on the delicate lace covering your nipples. He wonders just how it would feel under his tongue, in his mouth, between his teeth. 

“Why yes, thank you for noticing,” you smile serenely, chewing your last bite before reaching behind your back and unclasping the bra. 

It drops away from your body and your tits drop with it, the sight making his face crumple in pained desire. A whimper leaves him when you bring your hands up and cup them, your nipples peeking through your fingers, making him want to drop to his knees and suck them into his mouth. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” He groans pitifully, pushing his dinner away as his appetite for food wanes and his hunger for you grows. 

“Because I can,” you shrug, your tits bouncing with the movement, entrancing him. 

“You’re so mean,” he says with resignation, before standing and walking around the table to pull your chair out, lean down, and heft you over his shoulder. He feels your giggle more than he hears it, a smile stretching his lips as he lumbers to the bedroom. 

Bending down, he deposits you on the bed with a bounce, cupping your face and drawing you into a heated kiss. He groans into your mouth as he straddles you, following when you lean back on the bed and nipping your lip when you start to pull away. 

“Where do you think you’re goin’, hm? I’m not done kissing you yet,” he mumbles, pouting when you don’t give in and kiss him again. 

“Wanna fuck my tits?” You offer, rising to your elbows as he sits up on his knees. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“You have?” He gasps in wonder, watching you take hold of your breasts and push them together with his mouth open and watering. 

“Yeah, Mingi. Your big, thick cock between them. The look on your face when I lean down and suck. The way you cum so fucking fast for me, so easy.” 

He twitches in his boxer briefs and starts shedding clothing, climbing off of you to push down his pants and underwear before reaching into the bedside table for the lube. The lid opens with a slick click, clear fluid flowing out of the opening into his waiting hand. He warms it up first, rubbing his palms together until it’s not freezing before slathering it all over his throbbing dick. 

He sets one knee on the bed and swings the other over your body, straddling your chest and guiding his cock between your tits. You squeeze them around his dick, just the sensation of your soft skin pressed against his length making him groan. 

He pulls his hips back and rolls them forward, starting up a languid rhythm and watching as his cock slides in and out of the valley of your breasts. The image is so fucking hot, it has him throbbing already, has milky white precum leaking out to glisten on your chest. 

You’re right, he does cum so fucking fast for you when you do this, and after just a few minutes of fucking your tits, he’s already on the edge. 

He wars with himself, caught between the urge to spill his cum all over your sweet tits and the desire to beg you to let him fuck it into your perfect little cunt. When you tilt your head up, laying your tongue out so the head of his dick bumps into it with every thrust, the decision is made for him. 

He tries to keep his head from falling back as he cums, his neck muscles weak in the wake of his pleasure but his brain screaming at him to watch as cum coats your chest and chin in streams. Some of it lands on your tongue and you hum, closing your mouth and swallowing it before taking hold of his dick and starting to pump. 

“Wait, baby, s’too sensitive,” he whimpers, though he’s already thrusting into the circle of your hand. 

“Okay,” you release him and drag your fingers through the mess on your skin, reaching around him to slide them between your legs. “If you won’t fuck me, I will.”

“Fuck, what’s gotten into you today?” He groans as he climbs off of you as gracefully as he can, his limbs still clumsy from his orgasm and his dick already throbbing with need. 

“I woke up with you hard and pressed against my ass and then I had to leave you and go to work. I didn’t even have time to cum in the shower,” you pout as he pushes your legs up and apart, your pussy shiny with arousal and his cum. 

That does sound pretty rough, especially when he had time to cum in the shower. God, and you had such a long day but you still surprised him with dinner and lingerie, like the sweet baby angel you are. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck you all night to make up for it,” he promises roughly, lining himself up and sliding home in one smooth thrust. He’s not fully hard yet but your cunt will get him there in no time, your pussy searing hot and so fucking good around his aching cock. 

He didn’t open you up but you’re wet as hell, making his dick glide as he pulls his hips back and thrusts forward, the clutch of your cunt making all the blood in his body rush down into his cock. It’s still so sensitive, it almost hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain, the kind that makes his eyes roll back into his head as he fills you again and again. 

It’s not enough to just be holding your legs up when he wants to be holding your whole body down, so he pushes them as close to your body as they can go and climbs on top of you, putting you in a mating press. 

He can thrust down with real power now, and your face screws up with pleasure as he starts to pound into you, his cock hitting the end of you with every buck of his hips. It feels so fucking good, he’s not sure he can stand it, his rhythm stuttering when you start to squeeze and flutter around him. 

“Getting close, baby?” He asks, wanting to hear the answer even though he already knows. 

“Yeah, Mingi, m’so close,” you whine weakly, your hands covering his where they hold your thighs. 

“I got you, baby,” he breathes as he leans down to kiss you, folding you in half and digging his cock into that spot deep inside that makes you gush. 

His tongue fucks into your mouth just like his cock fucks into your pussy, making you moan and hold his hands tighter, your release building and building and building until he roots himself deep and grinds. 

His pelvis rubbing against your clit is enough to break you, and he pulls away with a feral grin to watch as you unravel for him. He always loves to see the look on your face, to take in the pleasure in your eyes, to know he’s the one making it all happen. 

It’s enough to bring him over the edge for the second time, his cock jerking inside of you as ropes of cum shoot out to paint your walls, globs of white seeping out around where he’s filling you. 

Mingi wants to just collapse against you but you’re still all folded up, and he knows that must be getting uncomfortable. He’s not ready to pull out yet, though, so he just gathers you up in his arms and falls to the side, rolling until you’re resting on his chest with his cock still plugging you up. 

“Let's just stay like this for a while, hm, baby?” He breathes, half asleep with the comfort of your weight on him. 

You don’t answer which can only mean you’ve succumbed to slumber already, and, unbearably fond of you, Mingi just holds you tighter and ignores the way his dick twitches back to life at the feeling of your still-fluttering muscles. 

You need to get your rest now if he’ll be fucking you all night like he promised. 

pls reblog if you enjoyed!! as always, i would love to hear your thoughts 💖

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