Chapter Text
No one—least of all Kitty—could’ve predicted how that night would unfold. The idea of her and Min Ho hooking up? Unthinkable.
They were polar opposites. Ice and fire. Introvert versus extrovert. Composed and controlled versus chaotic and impulsive. On paper, it never should’ve worked.
But that night, theory went out the window.
There was no logic in the way his fingers traced the curve of her spine like he already knew what she liked. No explanation for the way her breath hitched when he leaned in—not from nerves, but because she wanted it. Wanted him.
There was no logic in the way he kissed her in the back of their Uber, or in the way goosebumps rose along her skin as his hands wandered—sneaking into dangerous territory that sober Kitty would’ve never approved of in the backseat of a stranger’s car.
She’d done many things that night she never would have done sober. But deep down, in the hidden chambers of her mind, she’d always imagined doing them—something reckless, something that made her feel alive. Something to regret.
They could go back to hating each other the next day, pretend it never happened, chalk it up to alcohol. But if Kitty was going to make mistakes that night, she was glad it was with someone as deliciously consuming as Min Ho.
They barely made it to his place.
The door slammed shut behind them, breaths ragged, laughter tangled with kisses. Kitty’s heels clicked across the hardwood as he pulled her forward by the waist, his touch feverish and unrelenting.
There was a jacket on the floor—his? Hers? She didn’t care. Clothes left a breadcrumb trail from the entrance to the bedroom. The concern that their friends might come home too soon vanished the moment he pressed her against the bedroom door, the uncertainty of tomorrow forgotten as her bra flew across the room.
Everything blurred at the edges: his mouth on her neck, her nails in his back, the soft groan he let out when she bit down just hard enough, the delicious grip he held her in. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape him.
“Covey,” he breathed, her name ragged on his tongue like a prayer and a curse all at once. “Fuck, you’re maddening.”
She thought he was about to let her go when he inched away. Her hand instinctively reached for him, but instead he knelt, eyes never leaving hers.
His fingers slid up her leg with maddening slowness, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, like her skin had been set alight. When they reached her inner thighs, her whole body froze, anticipation making her heart skip a beat.
“Please,” she pleaded, her legs parting on their own. “You’re killing me.”
He tilted his head, gaze dropping to her underwear, his ridiculously long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.
“Killing you? Is that what I’m doing to you, Covey?”
Before she could answer, he pushed her panties to the side—and finally, he touched her.
Her world went blank.
The first finger slipped in effortlessly.
Her breath hitched—sharp and broken—as her head thudded softly against the door behind her. One hand flew to his shoulder, nails digging in—not to stop him, but to ground herself. Her knees barely held her weight as her hips bucked to match his torment.
He didn’t let her adjust before a second finger followed, drawing soft whines and sighs out of her, urging her closer and closer to the edge. Warmth pooled in her belly, clenching and unclenching involuntarily. She moaned his name in sheer desperation for that sweet, sweet release.
The bastard hummed—clearly enjoying having her under his control, completely surrendered to him. In that moment, she was his puppet, and she would’ve done anything he asked. Anything and everything.
“Do I have to repeat myself,” he taunted, “or will you use your words, Covey?”
What?
He wanted her to talk?
How was she supposed to talk?
There wasn’t a single coherent thought in Kitty’s head. She wasn’t in her right mind—and he knew it. He was counting on it. He knew she was his to play with, to tease, to do whatever he pleased with. That night, only the high he gave her existed.
Just Min Ho.
Min Ho’s fingers, deep within, reaching places she couldn’t with her own. Min Ho’s thumb drawing lazy, torturous circles on her clit. Min Ho’s scent burned into her nose, his presence the only thing that mattered, an orgasm by him the only necessity.
Then he stopped.
Her eyes snapped open, a hand flying to her hair, yanking at her curls in frustration. Her gaze found his, demanding an explanation—why he refused to carry her over the edge, why he had to deny her the high.
His eyebrow arched slightly, a wicked glint lighting up his dark eyes. “Yes?”
“Fuck you,” she panted, suppressing the urge to beg.
He curled his fingers in response. Kitty swore again, a mantra of profanity soon replaced by his name.
“Easy there, kitten,” he cooed, infuriatingly calm. She wanted to either smash his head against the wall or have her way with him. Were it not for her throbbing clit, she might’ve chosen the former. “You’ll come when I want you to.”
While she drowned in the frustration, he thrived in the power he held over her. If she had to describe the look in his eyes—locked on her flushed, trembling body—she’d compare him to a cat finally catching a canary. He was smug and relaxed, a stark contrast to her shattered composure. Their eye contact could only be described as a silent battle—her wanting him to finish what he’d started, and him demonstrating just how much power he held over her.
“Yes,” she panted, defeated at last. “You’re killing me.”
Min Ho chuckled. “But I haven’t even started yet, Covey.”
Just as her breathing began to even out, he leaned in and blew a kiss onto her thigh, and then higher, and higher, and—
Oh.
His lips replaced his thumb, tasting her wetness—featherlight, yet forceful enough to make her forget her own name. She whimpered, twitching in the best way possible.
“You taste so good,” he mumbled into her. “Just like I imagined.”
Her back arched off the wall, and she was grateful for the hand he used to steady her—because otherwise, she would’ve collapsed right then and there.
His tongue—masterful, maddening—circled her clit, licking and sucking with just the right pressure. She let out a sound—too feral to be a whimper, too soft to be a scream. Her hands searched for something to hold onto and buried themselves in his hair. She caressed the softness of it, then tugged, desperate and so, so close. As if in answer, his fingers started to move again, matching the tempo of his tongue, in perfect sync.
She could feel it building from miles away—her heart pounding, her belly tightening, her body trembling under his care. If she could’ve formed words, she’d have told him to never stop. But all she could do was cling to him and hope he would finally give her what she craved.
And give it he did.
It was almost like flying, then falling and falling and falling—never reaching the ground. Her bones disappeared, the Earth stopped spinning, the entire world ceased to exist for that one singular moment of pure, white-hot bliss.
When she finally came back to reality and opened her eyes, she couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol spinning the room, or the aftershocks of her release still lingering.
Min Ho’s eyes twinkled like a thousand stars as he took in her trembling form, sweet victory lighting up his features, making him look almost content with just getting her off. Kitty, however, had other plans.
“Come here,” she whispered, a giddy smile still plastered on her face.
He obliged, giving her clit one last peck before getting up and wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her against him, close enough that an outsider wouldn’t have been able to tell where her body ended and his began.
She reached up, gently cradling his face, and captured his lips with hers.
The kiss was gentler than any that came before. She took her time tasting him—tasting herself—her tongue inviting his into a sensual battle.
He backed her toward the bed, his hands roaming like he was trying to memorize her by touch alone. Every inch he explored left her skin buzzing, a million electric bolts traveling down her spine.
The heat between her legs returned—stronger now, knowing his experience outshone every guy she’d ever been with. He knew how to play her, how to make her ache for more, even after already giving her an earth-shattering orgasm.
Silk sheets—of course he’d have silk sheets—cooled her back as he laid her down, his gentleness surprising yet appreciated. She helped him remove her panties, and it occurred to her that he was somehow still only half-naked. So overdressed .
She watched him take his pants off, mesmerized. This was the first time she had time to take him in—to process just how hot he really was.
If she hadn’t already been shamelessly turned on, the sight of Min Ho naked would’ve done the trick. His broad shoulders, defined abs, and that maddening V-line disappearing beneath his boxers drove her nearly feral. She wanted to kiss, lick, and admire every inch of his body.
She heard him chuckling under his breath. “Like what you see, Covey?”
“Could be better,” she replied without hesitation, peeking up at him through her eyelashes. “You could be naked.”
He seemed to agree with her, as he immediately reached for his boxers—and when he was finally out of them, Kitty couldn’t help but stare. His size was more than compatible with what she liked. Of course, he had to be perfect at this too, and yet Kitty couldn’t find it in herself to complain. Her mouth watered.
He placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “Eyes up here.”
This time, her hands wandered. She wrapped her fingers around his cock—gentle yet firm—her eyes never leaving his as she began to jerk him.
Now she understood what had driven Min Ho just minutes ago. Her grip on him was addictive. Knowing she was the sole reason his breathing quickened, that he sighed her name—quiet but powerful enough to send shivers down her spine—was intoxicating. She could also understand why he had stopped her earlier, slightly uncomfortable being out of control.
Min Ho seemed like someone who thrived in the driver’s seat and struggled without it—in every aspect of his life. She knew it wasn’t personal when he stopped her, when he instructed her to lie down, then followed shortly after.
His weight was somehow comforting. He loomed over her like he owned her, her sensitive nipples brushing against his chest as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, his mouth crashing into hers, his cock pressing against her.
This was the first time it truly sank in: he was going to fuck her. Not just with his fingers and tongue. For real. And she wanted him to.
She didn’t miss the way he grinned when she sighed in disappointment as his weight slowly lifted off her. Her legs already felt purposeless without being locked around his waist. She gave him a nasty look, cursing him internally for dragging this out. She wanted him. Like, yesterday. Previous orgasm be damned—she was more than ready to ride out the next one.
“Relax, Covey,” he said, trying—and failing—not to laugh at her pouting. “Protection.”
Oh. Right. He was correct. She’d almost forgotten.
She let her expression soften, but she was still eager, still impatient.
He opened his nightstand and grabbed a condom. It took him less than thirty seconds to put it on, yet to Kitty, it felt like a lifetime. He did it with such ease and precision that she couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d done this before—not that it was any of her business.
She was well aware of his countless one-night stands. Min Ho had a reputation—a playboy, his experience far outweighing hers. He knew what he was doing, while Kitty relied mostly on instinct. And yet, the thought didn’t even seem to cross his mind.
He climbed on top of her again, his expression unreadable. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his voice almost gentle. “Are you sure?”
Kitty nodded and pulled him in for a kiss. She sighed into his mouth as he slid his cock over her clit, teasing her before positioning himself at her entrance and slowly pushing in—inch by inch—delicately.
She closed her eyes, her back arching off the bed, overwhelmed by the sensation. He was thick, stretching and filling her, and Kitty could do nothing but take all of him in.
“Are you okay?” Min Ho panted, presumably holding himself back until he got the green light.
At first, it hurt—the kind of pain that bordered on pleasure. But it didn’t last. Her body adjusted quickly, and pain gave way to an indescribable euphoric high. She was so full, so deliciously stretched, so delighted.
“Yes,” she confirmed, her gaze locking with his in the dim light. “Fuck me, Min Ho.”
That was all he needed.
He began to move, gradually picking up pace, diving into her with deep, rhythmic strokes. Kitty’s nails dug into his back, urging him to go harder, faster—to take as much from her as she could give. All her pent-up frustration spilled out with each relentless thrust, leaving only moans, mewls, and whimpers behind.
“God, you feel so good,” he rasped into the skin of her neck. “You take me so well.”
She wanted to tell him how incredible it felt, how he stole the air from her lungs, how she never wanted him to stop—but she couldn’t speak. All she could do was clench around him and spread her legs wider, allowing him even deeper access.
The sound of skin on skin echoed through the room, mingled with muffled moans. She knew she’d never forget the sound of his groans—how choked and raw they were, how her embrace around his cock had undone him.
The pressure in her belly returned as waves of pleasure washed over her every time he hit that sweet spot. Her climax was close—achingly close—but somehow still just out of reach. He must have felt it too, because he suddenly changed position. He slipped out of her and stood up, and before she had time to protest, he pulled her to the edge of the bed and thrust back into her.
Kitty was mesmerized by the glistening droplets of sweat rolling down his chest, the hungry, almost animalistic look etched across his face.
He grabbed her legs and positioned them on each of his shoulders, taking complete control of their rhythm. This angle was different—deeper, more intense—and she instinctively reached for her clit to help bring herself over the edge. She was so close, right on the brink. She just needed one final push.
“Katherine,” his voice broke through her haze. “Don’t fight it. Come for me.”
And she did.
This was nothing like her previous orgasm.
The first had shattered the Earth and made everything disappear.
This one broke Kitty.
She was gone. Finished. Her soul left her body.
In twenty years, she had never felt anything like this—not from her own fingers, and certainly not from any previous partner. Don’t get her wrong, her partners had all been decent. She enjoyed being with them. They had tried their best to get her off. But there was something different about Min Ho—something she couldn’t quite name, something intangible.
Maybe it was because his cock was the best she’d ever had.
Maybe because he guided her through it.
Maybe because he was gentle, yet never treated her like she might break.
Perhaps it was all of it combined.
His release followed just a few minutes after hers, transforming his expression into what she could only describe as absolute peace. He let out a sound that came from deep within his throat, and for a fleeting moment, Kitty swore he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
Strong words for someone she wasn’t in love with.
Even though Kitty was not in love with him and had no intentions of falling for him he was entirely under her skin, sank in so deeply she doubted she could ever get him out.
She wished she could read his mind, to see into his thoughts.
He was silent when he slipped out of her and went to the bathroom. He was silent when he came back with a wet towel and handed it to her. He was silent when he took a new boxer out of his closet. He was especially silent when he went to the living room to collect their scattered clothes, and he also didn’t say anything when he eventually came back.
He was all too quiet, and Kitty had no idea what to say.
Was it too early to have the ‘what are we?’ conversation?
Were they on the same page?
“What did you tell Q?” she broke the ice eventually.
“Well, you did tell him you want to do stuff over the weekend,” Min Ho said. “So, I just told him you were heading out and I will see you home.”
A lie always has a bit of truth in it, she mused.
“How very gentlemanly of you.”
Min Ho smiled at her—a lopsided, cheeky smile, his signature one. “You can’t say I didn’t take care of you.”
“You did.” Kitty had suddenly found the ground very interesting. “Uhm, yeah, about all that—”
“We don’t have to have this conversation, Covey.”
He watched in silence as she adjusted her bra strap and slipped into her dress and handed her her jacket.
There was a slight sinking sensation in her belly, like the ground beneath her was just a little less solid than before. Maybe it was the way he said it—casual, easy.
Kitty hesitated. Her jacket was in her hands, but she didn’t put it on. Instead, she looked at him— really looked at him. His expression was unreadable, calm, even kind, but guarded too.
She forced a small laugh, brushing her hair off her shoulder like it didn’t matter. “Right. No need to make it weird.”
“Well, I should go,” she said, finally slipping on her jacket. She made a show of adjusting the collar, fiddling with the zipper that didn’t need fixing.
“Long day ahead?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe, voice light.
“Yeah. You know. Brunch. Homework. Pretending I didn't just fuck my first love’s best friend.” She smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Min Ho grinned. “That’ll be a challenge. You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’ll manage, don’t worry.”
They stood in silence for a beat, the space between them felt suddenly too wide.
“You want me to call you an Uber?” His voice was steady, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in it.
“I’m good.” She smiled, all practiced ease. “I want the full experience of my first walk of shame.”
He let out a soft chuckle, but it sounded hollow. She couldn’t tell if he found it funny or if he was just trying to keep the mood light.
Then he stepped forward, leaned in, and kissed her — soft, warm, brief. Nothing lingering.
Nothing promising.
Kitty nodded once, slowly, like that kiss sealed something. Not a beginning. Not really an end either. Just a quiet understanding.
“I’ll see you,” she said, a little too even.
“Yeah,” he replied, already turning away. “Text me when you’re home safe.”
Once the door shut behind her, the silence settled — heavy and undeniable.
It wasn’t that she hoped for more. Not really.
She just didn’t want to be the one who wanted more when he clearly didn’t.
💋💞
The front door creaked open at 5 a.m., and Kitty slipped inside, trying to be as quiet as possible. Her heels were off, dress rumpled, and her hair had that perfectly messy look of someone who’d spent the night celebrating. She was sure there was no obvious telltale sign of her nighttime shenanigans.
From the living room, Madison stirred on the couch, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she spotted Kitty’s silhouette. “Well, well, look who finally decided to show up.”
Kitty laughed softly, dropping her bag by the door. “Dae’s birthday party got a little out of hand.”
Madison raised an eyebrow. “A little? You look like you went twelve rounds with a tornado. What happened?”
She shrugged, trying to avoid her eyes. “You know. Drinks, dancing, trying not to embarrass myself.”
“Uh huh.” Madison smirked, folding her arms. “And the flushed cheeks? The smeared makeup? That’s from all the dancing, right?”
Kitty gave a mock innocent smile. “Yeah. Totally. It was very warm inside.”
Her roomie tilted her head, eyes narrowing playfully. “You’re terrible at this. Who was keeping you company?”
Her smile faltered for just a moment, but she recovered quickly. “No one special. Just friends.”
She didn’t look convinced. No wonder. Like Min Ho said, she was indeed terrible at lying. “ Friends , huh? Well, if you say so.”
Kitty poured herself a glass of water and flopped onto the couch next to Madison.
Madison grabbed the blanket from the armrest and tossed it over Kitty’s shoulders. “So, you’re seriously going to leave me hanging like this? No juicy details at all?”
Kitty glanced sideways, a small smile playing at her lips. “Come on, Madds. It’s 5 a.m. I’m not exactly in storytelling mode.”
Madison nudged her playfully. “That’s exactly when the best stories come out.”
Kitty laughed softly, then stretched out her legs. “Alright, maybe there was a dance-off. And maybe someone insisted I try a weird cocktail that tasted like… regret.”
“Regret, huh? Sounds promising already.”
Kitty rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “But seriously, it was mostly just good vibes and bad singing.”
Madison tilted her head, still not convinced. “You’re dodging something. You’re usually way more animated after these things and don’t for a second think that I would miss the signs of a one-night-stand when I’m clearly an expert.”
Kitty hesitated, then shook her head. “I’m just exhausted, I need to sleep.”
“Alright.” Maddison threw an arm over her friend’s shoulder. “Enjoy your nap, mystery lady. Party hard, rest harder.”
She was happy she wasn’t pressed any further because she wasn’t sure she could deny it any longer. Not when an invisible weight settled on her chest, strange and unexpected. Not when as she closed her eyes her mind kept replaying the night, Min Ho being the only crystal-clear memory. Not when she knew that from that moment nothing between them will stay the same.
Her phone buzzled, a reminder that she had forgotten to send him a text. It was Min Ho, asking if she had gotten home safe.
To: Mean Hoe
Today at 5:16 am
Safe. Sleep well. Xx
From: Mean Hoe
Today at 5:20 am
Goodnight, Covey.
Maybe tomorrow she’d push the feeling aside, call it nothing more than a fleeting night. But tonight, in the darkness, she couldn’t ignore that something had changed. Whether she was ready or not, everything was different now.
Could they ever go back to how it was before? Was it really just a causal hookup? One they could eventually pretend never happened?
Kitty swore to herself that night that she would do anything possible to get him out of her head. Min Ho, after all, was no good news.
Especially not to her.