You’re 21, thriving, and living the soft life every girl dreams of. You go to class in the morning, brunch at Wildflour, and by sunset, you’re riding shotgun in a matte black Benz with your Mingyu behind the wheel. He’s 28, dangerously good-looking, insanely rich, and lowkey obsessed with you. Like—he would literally cancel board meetings if you texted him, “babe I’m bored 🥺.”

You met him at a charity gala your family dragged you to. One look and he was hooked. Since then? Weekly spa dates, weekend trips to Bali, and a closet full of Chanel, all courtesy of Mr. Kim Mingyu—your sugar daddy, your soft dom, your man.

He calls you his “baby princess”, his “good girl”, and sometimes just “mine.” You love teasing him, especially when he’s in his serious businessman mode. But the moment you sit on his lap or whisper in his ear? Game over. He melts. Always.

He’s the type to say, “Do you really need another bag, baby?” But then ends up buying you three.

Your friends call it luck. But you? You call it destiny.

Because being spoiled by Mingyu isn’t just about the money—it’s about the way he touches your hair like it’s spun gold, kisses your forehead when you fall asleep in his penthouse, and texts you, “Stay in bed. I’ll handle everything.”

You’re his soft spot, his reward after a long day, and the only person he lets see that he’s not just a cold, powerful CEO—he’s just your man, wrapped around your finger.