summary: San's anxious before a big fight. Wooyoung wants to help.
word count: 1.3k
warnings: depictions of anxiety, oral sex
a/n: first woosan fic, hopefully it isn't too bad :p
San squishes his Needoh rapidly into his calloused palm. He tries to focus his attention on its soft, squishy texture, but it does little to extinguish his anxiety.
He tosses it aside and lays down on the small cot in the van him and his manager, Wooyoung, live in; frustrated and frankly scared for his upcoming fight.
Normally San is overconfident and eager to face his opponent. Part of that eagerness comes from what's waiting for him afterwards-- Wooyoung's bright smile. Every time he wins, Wooyoung proudly grabs San by the wrist and shows him off to the entire arena. In those brief moments, San can't help but wonder, 'Is this how it feels to have a boyfriend who loves you?'.
The feeling of warmth and joy that comes from Wooyoung's happiness is enough to erase the pain from the countless cuts and bruises that decorate his body afterwards.
But his last fight was different.
San was outmatched in every aspect-- experience, size, speed-- he never felt so out of his element. For the first time since his training days, he lost. Wooyoung didn't say he was disappointed, but the way he avoided eye contact and rushed him out the back of the gym secretly, was more than enough proof that he was ashamed.
He never wanted to see that expression on Wooyoung's face again.
The nausea that usually accompanies his anxiety starts to kick in when Wooyoung suddenly shows up. "Are you pumped for tonight? Cause I sure am." He chimes while tossing a snack at San. "Hey what's with you?" San shoves the snack onto the floor and turns his back to Wooyoung.
"I don't feel good Wooyoung. Maybe we should forfeit." San groans. "Where is this attitude coming from, hmmm?" Wooyoung says while sitting beside him, gently rubbing his shoulder. San tenses a bit under Wooyoung's touch, which Wooyoung notices.
Wooyoung is no idiot. He's notices the way San blushes when he sleeps in his underwear on especially hot nights. He feels San's lingering stare on his lips constantly. The tension between them is so thick it practically makes the van cloudy. He figures maybe they could use this to their advantage.
"I get anxious sometimes too. But you know what makes me feel better? Rubbing one out." San's eyes bug out of his head like one of those novelty pens with googly eyes. "I know it sounds crazy, but you start feeling so good you forget you were worried in the first place. Go ahead, don't be shy."
"But Wooyoung, I can't. Not with you in the van. It's so small in here you'll hear everything."
"We're both guys, it's no big deal." He says casually. "Unless, I make you uncomfortable."
"N-no! Of course not, I like having you around." He mutters with a hint of adoration.
Wooyoung teases him, liking this cute side of San. "Really? Even when your cock is out? Do you want me around then?" He gently palms the growing bulge in San's leather pants. San hisses, throwing his head back and reflexively bucks his hips into Wooyoung's hand. "I'll take that as a yes." He says with a chuckle.
Wooyoung lowers himself to the floor and kneels. San sits up on the cot in front of him, confused, but visibly excited. "San, do you want me to suck the worry out of you?" Wooyoung's eyes are dark with lust, his cock straining the front of his pants. San is speechless, but the twitch in his pants gives him away. Wooyoung smirks, but decides to tease him more. "If you close your eyes you can pretend I'm a girl so it's not weird for you, how about that? Hmm?" San frowns, but Wooyoung already knows what San's response is going to be. He just wants to hear him say it out loud.
"I want it to be you, Wooyoung."
That's all the confirmation Wooyoung needs before he's tugging San's pants and underwear down in one swift motion. His cock springs out, finally unconfined. It points proudly at his abs, while his nipples harden, now visible through his tank top. "Wow, you're beautiful..." Wooyoung whispers in awe.
The praise goes straight to San's cock as it twitches again, this time, a bead of pre come forming at the tip. Wooyoung slowly places his fingertip at San's slit and gathers it, bringing it up to his lips. San grips the side of the cot like his life depends on it, causing his tank top to tighten around his chest, making his hard nipples more apparent.
Wooyoung can't help it anymore. He pulls the tank top off and discards it carelessly. His mouth latches onto San's nipple and laps it hard with his tongue. The saliva coats the bud, making San's mind reel and back arch from the cooling sensation. Wooyoung's free hand twists and pulls at the neglected nipple, giving San pleasure beyond his wildest dreams.
San's eyes are begging for more and Wooyoung is more than happy to make his wish come true. He suddenly yanks San's arms above his head and holds them in place without giving San time to process his actions. Wooyoung kisses and licks San's armpit, groaning as he does so. San's anxiety has been long forgotten, those thoughts now replaced by Wooyoung and his hot tongue.
"Wooyoung... Please touch my cock..." San whimpers, feeling himself close to bursting. The idea of San coming without Wooyoung even having to touch his sensitive area embarrasses San. But in contrast, it turns Wooyoung on even more. "Whatever my good boy wants, my good boy gets." He declares confidently before spitting on San's thick member. The saliva drips down the shaft and slowly gathers at the base. Wooyoung then starts jerking San off at a ruthless pace. His velvety skin drags brilliantly against Wooyoung's soft hands, so well that it turns San into a whiny mess.
"You're so tough in the ring, but here alone with me? A cute little puppy that's desperate for come. I bet you don't even care if it's yours or mine, you just want to be covered in it." Wooyoung's filthy words almost push San over the limit, but he refuses to finish like this. San grips Wooyoung's hair, roughly yanking his face into his crotch. They both moan as San starts dragging his tip all over Wooyoung's face.
Wooyoung sticks his tongue out, trying to get a taste of it, but San is too quick and dodges it every time. Wooyoung is about to complain, but as soon as he opens his mouth, San stuffs it with his cock. Wooyoung's complaint gets muffled and is quickly replaced with him slobbering and sucking. San laughs. "Is this the only way I can get you to shut up?" Wooyoung responds by gripping San's tight balls, slightly tugging on them as he sucks faster and harder.
San watches Wooyoung through half lidded eyes. "How is he still so pretty while doing such dirty things?" He thinks to himself. He groans when Wooyoung finally takes him in all the way to his base. Wooyoung's nose presses against San's lower stomach as his hot mouth continues to relentlessly squeeze him. "I'm close Woo-" San gently laces his fingers into Wooyoung's hair, attempting to pull him off, but Wooyoung swats them away, desperate to swallow his seed. Unable to hold back any longer, San finishes with a deep, loud moan.
Wooyoung happily swallows every last drop of it like it's the sweetest nectar. He grins afterwards, drunk off San.
"Are you still nervous?" Wooyoung asks San who is naked, panting, and flushed completely.
Summary
"I am looking at you," he choked out, a ragged exhale brushing over your lips, tasting faintly of winter and desperation. "That’s the goddamn problem. It’s all I ever do."
The confession hung in the air, thick and uncertain, like a match held over a trail of gasoline. His eyes dropped down to your mouth, tracking the slight parting of your lips with a raw hunger that made your knees turn to liquid.
"Seonghwa," you whispered his name, a soft, deliberate plea that shattered the last of his iron restraint. You didn't wait for him to cross the line.
You dragged him over it.
A/N
At last, I finally mustered the energy to finish this one lmao. I've never written anything this long, so I hope I didn't bore you too much in the first 9k words xd
service top!park seonghwa, whiny!park seonghwa, dom/sub undertones, seonghwa is whipped for the reader, yearning, angst?, forced proximity, minor woosan, possessive!park seonghwa
The tires of the SUV had been spinning uselessly in the deep snow for about twenty minutes before the engine let out one final, desperate, and exhausted grunt—completely dying and leaving you, your manager, your brooding bodyguard, and your driver stranded at the edge of a long forgotten logging road.
This entire trip had been your childhood friend-turned-manager's brilliant idea; a remote cabin rented specifically for your upcoming movie shoot under the insistence that isolating you a whole week early would perfectly immerse you in the script’s atmospheric mindset.
At the time, Wooyoung had treated it like the greatest breakthrough of his career.
Knowing Wooyoung, it clearly wasn’t.
So when the car had come to a halt, a mixture of sighs and groans filling the tense air, it had become glaringly obvious that your dear manager had forgotten to check the weather forecast for today.
A low groan in your throat had turned Wooyoung around from where he was sitting in the passenger seat, giving you a weak, apologetic smile while insisting that you should look on the bright side of this predicament. The bright side—or the silver lining, as he had called it—being that the cabin was only a mere 15-minute walk from where they had stopped.
Wooyoung had even insisted that trudging through the blinding, wet terrain would put you right into the headspace of your character. The first five minutes he had stood by that statement, rambling on about how he had given you an advantage in the bad luck you were having.
He went quiet the second you had to practically fight through the freezing wind during the remaining ten minutes, and you couldn’t help but internally curse at your friend. ‘Silver lining my ass,’ you thought.
Turns out, stepping inside the cabin hadn’t been of much help either.
The air was painfully cold and brittle, a bit better than the winds outside, but the lack of heat was still there. Every breath filled your lungs like shattered glass, harsh and unpleasant, and by the looks of the other three, they felt the same.
You pulled your arms tight against your chest, shivering violently as you watched your breath flower into a thick white mist, mixing with the other men’s as Wooyoung stepped forward, grabbing a small clipboard containing a note that sat idly on top of a dusty wooden table.
Wooyoung sighed as he read the note. ”Great." He rolled his eyes in annoyance, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "The main generator is completely shot."
The heavy wooden table groaned slightly as he tossed the clipboard back onto the dusty surface. "We're stuck here until the blizzard clears. At least until tomorrow morning," he continued, the raw exhaustion of the storm openly bleeding through his voice as he looked away from the three of you, like he was embarrassed for being the cause of this.
The room fell silent except for the faint sounds of the storm shaking the structure of the cabin, turning even louder, almost like it was provoking the four of you—waiting for either of you to break.
But San, your driver, stepped up directly besides Wooyoung, knuckles lightly brushing against the shorter man's tense shoulder in a subtle, practiced movement like it was meant to ground him.
"We have dry wood for the fireplace, and the roof is solid," San said softly, his voice cutting through the chill as he offered Wooyoung a small, comforting smile, making his eyes crinkle and those familiar dimples appear on his cheeks. "We'll be fine, Woo."
A silent look passed between the two men, a quiet, almost intimate understanding that didn’t require spoken words. It made a genuine smile tug at your frozen lips, like a necessary pocket of warmth contrasting the freezing chaos of the cabin as it wrapped around a familiar ache spreading across your chest.
It was a warmth you so desperately craved but was so far out of reach. A heavy stab of shame suddenly tightened your chest, recollecting the nights you had spent with Wooyoung without the limitations of him being your manager. How achingly much he had needed that comfort too. It cut you deep to remember how hard you had worked him over the last few years, inadvertently denying him the very tenderness he needed and deserved.
So when San had been hired as your driver, it hadn’t been difficult to notice the lingering stares or the unnecessary, yet careful and deliberate, touches exchanged between them. You had seen the way Wooyoung’s posture, rigid from the sheer exhaustion after a grueling day of press junkets and relentless award shows, entirely dissolve the moment San stepped within arm’s reach.
Back during your first major career breakthrough, when the paparazzi were at their absolute worst and the media felt suffocating, watching them had filled you with an almost bittersweet fondness. Though they never spoke about the relationship they so desperately tried to hide, their quiet bond had always managed to keep you grounded. A silent anchor that allowed you to dare dream of one day sharing that same fierce, protective closeness with someone of your own.
But—like every fragile comfort on this trip—the brief moment of warmth and hope quickly evaporated the second a heavy, familiar shadow fell over your shoulders.
Seonghwa stepped fully into the main room, marching towards the heavy wooden door protecting you from the outside winds to lock it with a deliberate click of the deadbolt. He finally turned around on his heels, facing the three of you huddled together from the cold. He pulled off his thick tactical gloves, the dark leather creaking loudly in the quiet hum of the cabin as his dark, unyielding eyes immediately locked onto yours.
Not Wooyoung.
Not San.
His entire universe instantly narrowed down the second his gaze found yours, routinely scanning your face for any signs of distress, measuring the distance between your body and the door with his usual terrifying calculated precision. You couldn’t help but freeze under the intense gaze, instantly trapped by the same suffocating tension that has stretched between you for two long years. A heavy, unspoken weight that always made the air feel a bit too thick to swallow, seeping through the cold air.
You weren’t unfamiliar with that look. Seonghwa had always looked at you like that. Like he wanted to scold you for being too careless. Like he wanted to lock you away where the rest of the world wouldn’t dare to touch you, to hurt you—where the sheer, suffocating intensity of his gaze never stopped the terrifying, irrational thought that all he saw, and all he ever cared to see, was you.
“The perimeter is secure,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice a low, firm tone that vibrated right through the old floorboards before settling deep in your chest. “But the temperature is dropping. Fast”
A choked breath escaped you when he finally diverted his gaze from yours. “Maybe someone so careless shouldn’t have been in charge of our stay,” Seonghwa continued, his cold and expressionless facade never faltering—save for the silent daggers he threw at Wooyoung through his eyes.
Wooyoung scoffed, glaring right back. “There is a fireplace, Mr. I-Love-Complaining," Wooyoung snapped, gesturing aggressively toward the large fireplace across the room. "We just have to keep warm,” he sighed. “And I don't think the owners can get here anyway, given the state of things out there."
Outside, the snow was beating furiously against the structure, the faint, haunting howls of the wind echoing down the chimney.
“Fuck, it’s cold," you shivered through chattering teeth, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself, shoulders hunching instinctively as another violent shudder rattled your frame.
San frowned with immediate, protective concern. "Here," he said softly, his hand already moving to the zipper of his own heavy winter jacket. "Take mine. I have a thick thermal underneath anyway, I'll be fine—"
"No."
The word cut through the room like a blade hitting ice. Sharp. Flat.
Seonghwa stepped forward before San could even pull his arms out of his sleeves, his taller frame effectively blocking the dim, flickering light of the lantern on top of the table. It cast a long, intimidating shadow right over your body as he physically inserted himself into the space between you and San, a dominant, territorial movement that instantly made the air in the room turn stagnant and suffocatingly heavy. Your breath hitched.
“She wears mine,” Seonghwa asserted, his fingers already unbuttoning his coat with efficient, practiced movements.
Your brows knitted together in a slight furrow, a sharp flash of irritation shooting through your spine. “I think San’s jacket will work just fine, too.”
Seonghwa clenched his jaw. “Just do as I say.”
“San has been my driver longer than you’ve been my bodyguard, Seonghwa,” you scoffed. “I don’t need your permission to take his jacket—”
“It isn’t about permission,” he snapped before stepping closer. The radiating heat of his body hit your face like a physical wall in the freezing room, holding out his massive, dark coat while his eyes kept locked onto yours with an uncomfortable and exposing intensity. “It’s about safety. Protocol.”
"Protocol?" You let out a sharp, mocking breath, chest heaving under your layers. "He’s my friend. You're being ridiculous. You've been doing this for two years—treating every single person who breathes near me like an enemy aching to strike. It's exhausting."
Seonghwa didn’t blink. His jaw tightened, clenching as he stared down at you, gaze pinning you to the floorboards. He lowered his head slightly, his voice dropping into a fierce, private murmur meant strictly for your ears.
"Sometimes the people closest to you can hurt you the most. And my job is to eliminate all risks.” He shoved the coat against your chest. “Wear the coat."
There was a lingering weight behind his words. Like an unspoken history or a deep-seated paranoia that you couldn’t quite decipher, leaving a ringing silence in its wake where a now uncomfortable, awkward friction settled over the room.
You could see Wooyoung shift his weight from one foot to the other through the corner of your eyes, his own eyes darting between you and your bodyguard with a mixture of confusion and growing annoyance. San stood quietly beside him, slowly zipping his own jacket back up in defeat, his expression carefully guarded.
You knew this was a losing battle—it always was—and even though you loathed how much your body was craving warmth ever since the car had decided to give up, you aggressively snatched the coat from his hands. But from the aggressiveness of it, your fingers accidentally brushed against Seonghwa’s bare wrist where his dress shirt had ridden up from taking off his coat. The sudden warmth sent an electric jolt straight up your arm, breath hitching in your throat as the two of you stilled.
Not wanting to address the funny feeling pooling low in your stomach, you threw the heavy material over your shoulders, instantly engulfing you. It smelled entirely, intoxicatingly of him. A heavy blend of the raging storm outside—crisp pine and a grounding musk mixed with a hint of vanilla and coffee—making your head spin with every shuddering inhale.
Wooyoung cleared his throat loudly, the sound forced and awkward. "Right." His eyes lingered on the two of you before continuing, "We need a concrete plan to stay warm. The temperature is going to keep dropping, and I'd prefer we don't freeze to death before the first day of shooting."
“There should be spare blankets,” Seonghwa replied, his voice returning to that same detached, professional cadence as he turned towards Wooyoung.
Yet, his head remained subtly angled in your direction, his eyes never truly releasing you. "It is an Airbnb in the middle of winter, after all. The owners wouldn't leave a property completely unequipped for a freeze."
The manager sighed. "Great. I'll check the upstairs closets with San." He ran a hand through his hair before gesturing for the driver to follow him toward the creaking wooden staircase. "Let's pray there's something better than dusty sheets up there. Come on, Sannie.”
Wooyoung’s gaze lingered softly on you for a moment before his lips smoothed into a straight line, offering you a comforting nod. It was the same unspoken gesture he always gave you in the midst of chaos. A silent promise to let you know he was only ever a heartbeat away.
As their heavy footsteps faded up the stairs, the sound of their quiet murmuring was swallowed by the cabin and the storm raging outside, leaving the main room in a tense, ringing silence.
You stayed glued to your spot by the fireplace, fingers buried deep in the oversized pockets of Seonghwa's coat. A soft hum escaped your lips as you pulled the high, stiff collar tighter around your neck—partially to block out the biting draft, but mostly to hide the deep shade of red that had so suddenly flushed your cheeks.
Seonghwa stood perfectly still across the room, eyes lingering momentarily on you before going back to whatever it was he was doing. It didn’t keep his focus for long, though. His attention kept flicking back to you, his gaze tracing the subtle yet rapid rise and fall of your chest through the dim, amber glow of the lantern. A lump formed deep in your throat, warmth spreading across every part of your body the coat surrounded.
His expression was one you had seen a thousand times over the last two years. A dark, unreadable mask that you had never quite been able to figure out. It was a look that usually kept you on your toes. It made you defensive. Guarded. And a bit annoyed, if you were completely honest.
But tonight, with the evidence of the day's regrettable events lingering in the air like a thick fog, that familiar weight felt tenfold more intense. Like there was a dangerous, volatile sharpness to the way he was watching you.
You felt your breath hitch, noises of the storm slowly fading out as the thud of your hammering heart was the only thing you could hear the second his eyes slowly dropped to your lips. Something in his eyes shifted, his tongue darting out to lick the seam of his bottom lip before his gaze locked back onto your own.
He held an expression thick with words left unsaid, so heavy and demanding it knocked the air straight out of your lungs. You felt exposed. Naked. Like he could see right through you.
You tried to brush it off, unconvincingly claiming it to be a mere security assessment and definitely not what felt like an interrogation. But you couldn't help the heart beating violently against your ribs, desperately trying to understand why...
Why a man who claimed to just be doing his job was looking at you like you were the only thing left in the world. Like a cherished treasure.
The thudding footsteps of Wooyoung and San returning from upstairs broke the suffocating silence, each carrying a meager stack of stiff, faded wool blankets. A slow, heavy exhale left your lips at the sight of your friend, your previous rigid and clenched posture melting away.
“This is the best we could find,” Wooyoung grumbled, dropping a couple of the rough blankets onto the sofa placed in front of the unlit fireplace. He frowned, like he had expected you to at least prepare a fire while the two of them were upstairs.
A rattle caught his attention, the frown melting into a sigh as he headed straight for the far corner of the room, where a draft was visibly rattling the frosted windowpane. “The glass is a bit loose here. We should block the gap before starting the fire.”
San was already moving with him, pulling a roll of heavy-duty duct tape from his backpack. Ignoring the confusion as to why he kept a roll of duct tape in his backpack, you took it as your cue to move, desperate to shake off the paralyzing awareness of Seonghwa's eyes.
“I'll prepare the fire, then. Until you're done,” you offered, your voice sounding slightly tighter than usual as you stepped towards a small pile of split logs near the fireplace.
You bent down, but before your fingers could even wrap around the rough bark, a large, dark shadow eclipsed you.
Seonghwa was already there, sweeping in so silently it caught the breath deep in your throat. His large hand clamped onto the piece of wood you were reaching for, knuckles brushing firmly against yours.
A familiar heat coiled in your abdomen before you pulled your hand back from the accidental scrape of his skin against yours, as if you had been burned, your pulse spiking.
“I got it,” Seonghwa murmured. Tone flat and professional, contrasting the flare of his eyes from the sharp intensity as he looked down at you. He used his body to subtly nudge you away from the hearth. “The wood is splintered. You'll cut your hands. Stand back.”
You huffed at that. “I am perfectly capable of carrying a log,” you snapped under your breath, a prickly wave of irritation rising to mask the sudden, erratic fluttering in your chest.
You stepped around him, determined to prove a point, and reached for a smaller piece of kindling. Again, he moved. His chest subtly blocking your path, his shoulder passing so close to yours that the fabric of his shirt brushed against your clothed arm.
He reached past you, his larger arm completely separating you from the woodpile. “You'll get hurt. I'll handle it. Your job is to stay warm.”
You let out a sharp, frustrated breath, retreating a few steps. It was infuriating.
For two years it had been like this. Two years of this constant, suffocating hovering. This maddening insistence on treating you like something precious. Something fragile. You told yourself you hated it. You told yourself his overprotectiveness was a nuisance, a textbook display of a stubborn bodyguard taking his contract way too seriously.
But as you stood there, wrapped in the heavy warmth of his coat, a traitorous and confusing ache settled deep in your stomach. You didn't want to admit how much his total, unwavering focus made your heart hum.
You dragged your attention across the room, desperate to find any leverage to anchor yourself from the flutter in your chest as your gaze settled on the two men working on the window. Wooyoung was shivering, his shoulders hunched as he held a piece of cardboard against the draft while San tore off a strip of tape to secure it.
Blissfully unaware of the lingering eyes, San took Wooyoung's reddened hands into his own, lifting them to his lips. He breathed a low, steady stream of warm air over Wooyoung's knuckles, his eyes fixed on the smaller man with an unhurried, profound tenderness.
Wooyoung's entire posture melted. A soft, private smile spread across his face as he leaned his forehead briefly against San's shoulder, puffs of white mist escaping his lips from what you could only assume were giggles.
A bittersweet ache twisted in your chest as you watched them. A sudden, hollow yearning that caught you completely off guard. It was a beautiful, quiet kind of intimacy. A safe harbor where two people simply trusted each other.
You found yourself staring, completely captivated by the effortless softness of it, wondering—just for a fleeting second—what it would feel like to have someone look at you with that kind of raw devotion.
You glanced away, blinking rapidly like it could hide emotions bubbling behind your eyes. You swallowed past a dry throat before you stopped dead in your tracks. Seonghwa.
He hadn't been looking at the woodpile.
He had been watching you.
He had caught the exact moment your chest hitched. Caught the lingering, envious look you cast at the two men by the window, his dark eyes tracking the heavy rise and fall of your chest.
The silence between you stretched, charged with an unsaid understanding. He knew exactly what you were looking at, and the rigid set of his jaw told you he was burning with a dark, unreadable frustration of his own.
Desperate to break the suffocating spell, you turned on your heel, looking for any excuse to escape his vicinity.
“I'll look for a better lantern,” you announced, your voice trembling slightly.
You spotted a tall, heavy wooden shelving unit tucked into the shadows at the back of the cabin. On the very top shelf, three thick, vintage brass lanterns sat coated in dust, alongside a folded tartan blanket.
You strode over to it, ignoring the way Seonghwa's boots immediately shifted on the creaking floorboards behind you.
The shelf was tall, towering over your head, and the old wood let out a brittle, ominous creak as you stepped up on your tiptoes. You stretched your arms up, tongue darting out in concentration as your fingers just barely brushed the cold brass of one of the lanterns.
“Don't,” Seonghwa's voice barked from across the room, sharp and sudden. “It's unstable.”
Your brows furrowed. “I can reach it,” you persisted, fueled by a reckless need to defy him. To prove that you didn't need his protection or that stupid protocol. You leaned more of your weight forward, straining your fingers just an inch further.
You miscalculated.
The moment your hand gripped the heavy brass, the rotten wooden supports of the shelf violently splintered. A sickening crack echoed through the cabin as the massive, heavy unit gave way under the shifting weight, the top shelf tilting forward. The heavy brass lanterns and a cascade of solid wooden beams came hurtling straight down towards your face.
Your breath hitched. You couldn't scream. Couldn't move. All you could do was stare up at the falling mass in pure, paralyzed terror.
A massive force hit you from the side. A solid, unstoppable wall of heat and muscle slammed into your torso as Seonghwa had lunged across the space with terrifying speed.
His large arms instantly wrapped around your waist, crushing you against his chest as he threw his entire body over yours, twisting midair to shield you.
The impact was brutal. You were slammed hard into the wooden floorboards, your breath violently knocked out of your lungs in a sharp gasp. But you couldn't feel the hard wood. Or the pain.
You could only feel him.
Seonghwa took the entire force of the crash, his large frame acting as a human shield against the wooden shelf and brass lanterns coming crashing down, splintering violently against his shoulders and down on the floor around you.
A deafening silence followed the crash, save for the howling wind outside and the frantic shouting of Wooyoung and San scrambling across the room. But you couldn't hear them.
Your mind flooded with thoughts as you were pinned flat against the floor, completely trapped beneath the crushing, heavy weight of Seonghwa's chest.
He didn't let go.
His grip was bruising, his large hands clutching at your waist and burying into the fabric of the coat with a white-knuckled, frantic desperation—like he was still trying to pull you deeper into his safety.
You looked up, your vision spinning, and found his face a mere inch from yours. He was trembling, his chest heaving frantically against yours as he gasped for air, breath hot and ragged against your face. The usual stone-cold facade had shattered into dust, eyes completely blown out with terror.
“Are you hurt?” he choked out, his voice a wrecked, breathless whisper, completely stripped of its usual composure.
“I-I'm fine,” you stammered, voice barely audible.
He let out a shuddering, broken exhale as his forehead dropped down to press briefly against your shoulder, right against the collar of his own coat. His jaw brushed innocently against the sensitive skin of your ear, sending a fierce and almost dizzying shiver straight down your spine.
He was breathing you in like a drowning man, his heart hammering so violently against your chest that you couldn't tell where his pulse ended and yours began.
As you laid there, pinned by his heat, the pieces you had fiercely been ignoring for two long years suddenly began to misalign and click into a terrifying new shape. This wasn't just a bodyguard doing his job. A man doesn't look this broken, this terrified, this utterly undone by a routine safety hazard.
And as your fingers instinctively tightened against the fabric of his shirt, a suffocating realization began to bleed between the lines of your panic.
You didn't hate his hovering. You never did. You've been yearning for this exact, crushing weight, completely starved for the overwhelming intensity of his touch.
For one more antagonizing fraction of a second, Seonghwa remained entirely frozen on top of you before a sudden, sharp clarity seemed to hit—as if he had just realized exactly how much he let slip. How entirely unhinged his panic must have looked to the room.
Almost instantly, the vulnerability vanished, masked by a sudden, terrifying flash of fury.
He pulled away like your skin had burned him, his jaw locked into a rigid, defensive line as he pushed himself up off the floor. The usual facade slammed back down, twisted into something far harsher, an unreasonable biting anger meant to bury what he had just exposed.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, his voice dropping into a harsh, venomous hiss as he glared down at you from his full height. “I told you it was unstable. Are you completely incapable of following a simple order? Your recklessness could have gotten you crushed!”
You blinked up at him from the floor, completely stunned by the whiplash of his sudden fury, your heart still hammering against your ribs. “I‐I was just trying to get the lanterns—”
“I don't care what you were trying to do,” he cut you off. His tone was icy. Unreasonable. Defensive. “You don't touch anything in a structurally compromised environment. You stay where I can see you, and you let me do my job. Is that concept too difficult for you to grasp?”
“Hey! Back off, dude!” Wooyoung's voice broke through as he kicked a splintered wood aside, stepping forcefully between you and Seonghwa to help you get on your feet, his eyes wide with defensive anger. “Chill the fuck out. She just wanted to help.”
San stepped up right behind Wooyoung, his hand resting firmly on your manager's arm to keep him from escalating. His eyes remained fixed on Seonghwa with a quiet, observant intensity. “She's fine, Seonghwa. We're all fine. The shelf was old, it was just an accident.”
Seonghwa's eyes stayed rigidly fixed on the floorboards next to you, his expression cold and unreadable. Yet, despite the familiar wall he was trying so hard to build back up, there was something so glaringly obvious unraveling the man.
The subtle, uncontrollable tremor in his fingers. The rigid, unnatural stiffness of his shoulders. The way he refused to look you in the eye—it all betrayed him. The mask was cracked, and no matter how much he barked about safety or protocol, you could see the desperate, chaotic energy humming right underneath his skin.
Without another word, Seonghwa turned on his heel and marched towards the dark kitchen, his heavy boots echoing like a rhythmic countdown in the quiet room.
— ☆
As the storm raged on outside, the cabin shifted back into its usual silent awkwardness. The hours bled together in a slow, suffocating crawl, with each of you retreating to your own corners to do your respective tasks. San had managed to scavenge a pair of small, battery-driven lanterns from one of the upstairs closets, placing them on the mantle and surfaces scattered across the main room.
The space was much better lit now, casting a steady, white glow over the room that felt almost too exposing, illuminating every tense line of the cabin.
Wooyoung and San had quietly finished securing the draft window, their whispered conversations acting as a low hum against the howling wind. You remained curled on the sofa, still engulfed in the dizzying smell of Seonghwa's coat.
You tried to read the script pages in your lap, but the words blurred into meaningless shapes. Every time you closed your eyes, you felt the crushing weight of Seonghwa's chest against yours. The desperate pressure of his fingers through your clothes and the terrifying, furious wall he had rebuilt the second he realized his control had unwillingly slipped.
Across the room, Seonghwa stood like a statue near the kitchen threshold, his arms crossed, silently tracking the perimeter—tracking you—leaving a trail of heavy silence hanging between you that grew more suffocating with every passing hour.
Before the midnight silence completely took over, there was a brief, fragile pocket of normalcy.
The old kitchen stove was a traditional gas model, requiring no electricity to function. And Wooyoung—desperate to soothe his frayed nerves after the shelf incident—managed to heat up a pot of milk, turning it into a rich, steaming hot chocolate that the three of you drank while huddled on the couch and on the floorboards directly in front of the fireplace.
With the heavy storm howling outside, you finally had a moment to truly take in the layout of the cabin without the immediate panic of the crash clouding your mind. The space was fairly big, built from heavy, exposed pine logs that had blackened with age. A steep, creaking wooden staircase cut straight up the center of the main room, leading up to a narrow loft landing where two small bedrooms sat side by side.
Across the room, entirely excluded from your small circle of warmth, Seonghwa sat in a rigid wooden chair near the dark kitchen entryway, next to the stairs. He hadn't touched the mug. He hadn't moved an inch to rest. His large frame completely still as he did his duty.
Wooyoung set his empty mug down, yawning heavily as he glanced from you to the dark figure in the corner.
"San and I will take the two bedrooms on the top floor," Wooyoung said, his voice dripping with a lazy, sarcastic edge as he deliberately poked fun at your bodyguard’s rigid posture. "That way, our resident shadow can stay down here and be in perfect reach if a rogue snowflake tries to attack the front door. You should probably head up to bed soon, too."
You snorted at the comment and offered a tired, faint smile, swirling the last of the dark liquid in your mug. "I need some time to collect my thoughts. Besides, it would be incredibly rude of me not to finish your delicious hot chocolate."
Wooyoung huffed a laugh, fond but exhausted, before standing up. He and San made their way up the creaking stairs, their shadows stretching long against the timber walls under the stark white glow of the battery-driven lanterns. You stayed glued on the couch, listening to the heavy wood groan under their weight.
There were two separate bedrooms up there. Yet, in the quiet structure of the house, you only heard a single wooden door click open, followed by the faint, muffled sound of quiet giggles before the latch snapped shut.
A genuine, soft smile tugged at your lips. It was so painfully obvious. A sweet secret that made your chest ache with a sudden, hollow envy.
"They are incredibly obvious," a low, gravelly baritone cut through the silence, making you jump. "It almost makes me sick."
You turned your head sharply. Seonghwa had stepped out of the shadows and was crossing the small hallway leading to the two rooms, hovering just a few feet next to the fireplace in front of you.
There was a rare, faint chuckle catching in the back of his throat—a rough, unpracticed sound that completely caught you off guard. He was actually making fun of them, a tiny, human glimpse of amusement cracking through his armor.
The sudden vulnerability frustrated you, the lingering adrenaline from the afternoon twisting into a sharp, defensive knot in your throat.
You turned your entire body to face him, your eyes narrowing. "Just because you are entirely incapable of feeling human emotions or expressing them does not mean their affection is disgusting, Seonghwa."
Seonghwa froze.
The small, rare trace of amusement instantly vanished from his face, his dark eyes widening slightly as he stared down at you, completely appalled and caught off guard by the sudden bitterness of your snap.
The silence between you stretched, the air turning thick enough to swallow.
"Incapable?" he repeated, the word leaving his lips like a low, dangerous warning. He stepped forward, jaw tightening so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek. "You think I don't feel anything?"
"Yes," you challenged, carefully putting down the mug before crossing your arms and getting up to take a deliberate step towards him. "Because you don't. You just stand there like a statue, watching me, judging me, and then you shut down. If you actually have a single human emotion inside you, say it. Because I am tired of guessing."
He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, and for the first time in two years, his unyielding gaze faltered. He looked away from you, staring at the dark wooden floorboards, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides.
You could see the exact moment the internal battle took hold of him—his shoulders were rigid, his chest heaving under the tight dress shirt as he took a long, ragged breath. He wanted to snap back. Wanted to retreat into the shadows, but he was trapped.
"I can't," he choked out, strangled rasp you barely recognized.
"What do you mean you can't?" you demanded, taking another step closer, daringly shrinking the space between you. "It's a simple question, Seonghwa. Why do you treat me like this?"
"Because it isn't fair!" he suddenly snapped, his head whipping back up. His eyes were blown out, swimming with a desperation that made your breath catch.
He took a half-step backward, trying to create distance between your bodies, but the wall pinned you both in the narrow circle of light.
"It isn’t fair to you, and it damn sure isn't fair to me.” He took a deep breath. “If I say it—if I let myself even think it—everything falls apart. Do you understand me? Our lives, my job, everything we’ve built for two years. It ruins all of it."
You blinked, completely stunned, mind scrambling to make sense of the gnawing panic in his voice. "What are you talking about? What ruins it?"
"Don't push me," he whispered, a dark, desperate edge bleeding into his tone as his fingers trembled against his thighs. "Please. Just—go. Go to bed."
"No," you said, your voice remarkably steady despite the chaotic hammering of your heart. You refused to back down now.
You closed the remaining distance, stepping directly into his personal space until your chest was practically brushing his.
You looked up into his striking face, eyes boring into his. "I'm not going anywhere until you explain what the fuck you mean, Seonghwa. Look at me. Why are you so terrified of me?"
"I'm not terrified of you," he breathed, his breath hot and ragged against you. The sheer proximity was intoxicating.
He looked completely undone, his rigid professional armor cracking and splintering right before your eyes under the pressure of your stubbornness. "I'm terrified of what I’ll do if I stop fighting."
"Then stop fighting," you whispered.
A harsh, broken sound—halfway between a scoff and a groan—caught in the back of his throat. He closed his eyes tightly for a single second, his head shaking as if he were trying to clear madness out of his brain.
"My entire life, I’ve been trained to lock it away," he whispered, his voice dropping into a raw, wrecked confession, the words practically dragged out of him against his will. "I was told that I felt too much. That my emotions made me a liability, a danger. I spent years forcing myself to become cold, to become a machine so I wouldn't ruin everything. I thought I was good at it."
He opened his eyes, and the sheer intensity in his dark gaze left you utterly breathless. He didn't move away this time. He leaned down slightly, his face a mere inch from yours, his unyielding focus pinning you to the floor.
"But with you, I can't," he admitted, a faint curse slipping past his lips as the final walls of his restraint violently crumbled. "No matter how many protocols I follow, no matter how hard I try to focus on the goddamn perimeter, you are always there. Just existing. Pulling me out of the dark and giving me a taste of what it actually feels like to feel again. It’s driving me completely crazy. I look at you, and I forget everything I need to be."
He reached out, his large, trembling hand hovering just shy of your jaw—like he was desperate to cup your cheek but paralyzed by the final, terrifying realization of what he was doing.
"I am your bodyguard, for fuck's sake," he gasped. "I am supposed to protect you. I am not supposed to look at you and want to take advantage of the fact that you are entirely mine to guard. I am not supposed to look at your lips and want to devour you until there's nothing left."
You looked up into the dark depths of his eyes, and the final piece of the puzzle violently locked into place inside your chest. It wasn’t just him. It had never been just him.
"Then stop looking at me like a contract," your voice cut through the quiet hum of the room, your hear a thudding pulse against your ribs. You lifted your chin, refusing to let him retreat into the shadows of his mind. "Stop hiding behind the protocol, Seonghwa. Look at me. Just ...look at me."
"I am looking at you," he choked out, a ragged exhale brushing over your lips, tasting faintly of winter and desperation. "That’s the goddamn problem. It’s all I ever do."
The confession hung in the air, thick and uncertain, like a match held over a trail of gasoline. His eyes dropped down to your mouth, tracking the slight parting of your lips with a raw hunger that made your knees turn to liquid.
"Seonghwa," you whispered his name, a soft, deliberate plea that shattered the last of his iron restraint. You didn't wait for him to cross the line.
You dragged him over it.
You reached up, your small hand closing firmly over his bare, burning wrist, pulling his hand that last agonizing distance until his palm finally met your cheek.
A jagged spike of heat shot straight up your arm, and a needy groan was violently ripped from the back of Seonghwa's throat at the sensation of your skin against his. His fingers instantly flexed, his grip firm yet careful as his large hand framed your soft skin, his thumb pressing hard into your cheekbone.
And then he lurched forward. Soft lips crashed onto yours, hungry, frantic, and completely starved. His lips were hot and demanding, bruising yours as he devoured the heat of your mouth with a breathless urgency
You let out a muffled, dizzy gasp against his mouth, your hands instantly clawing upward to grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to bury yourself in his solid weight. He answered the movement by wrapping his other arm around your waist, lifting you nearly off your feet as he turned the two of you around, slamming your back against the very wall you had him cornered against.
The impact was sharp, and a gasp tore from your lips. Seonghwa’s tongue traced along the seam of your bottom lip, a faint moan escaping as you gave him access. He explored every crevice, every corner of your mouth, like he was memorizing it, tongue tangling with yours in a desperate, slippery rhythm that left you both gasping, your head spinning into absolute chaos.
The wet warmth of his mouth and the intoxicating scent of his musk completely flooded your senses until you couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t remember anything but the burning desire of his unwavering attention.
He groaned again, a deep, vibrating sound that rumbled straight from his chest into yours, his large hand sliding down to grip the back of your neck, fingers burying deep into your hair to tilt your head back, exposing the vulnerable line of your throat to his absolute mercy.
He broke the kiss for a fraction of a second as a trail of spit connected at your lips, both of you panting, completely consumed by each other's taste.
"You're going to ruin me," he whispered against your skin, his voice broken in defeat. "You know that, don't you? I'm completely ruined."
"Good," you breathed out, your fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him back down to your lips. "Ruin me too."
He found your mouth again, and the kiss instantly grew hungrier. Needier. Hotter. The sheer friction of his lips against yours made your brain short-circuit, and all your skin was screaming for was the intolerable barrier of your clothes.
You needed him bare. You needed to feel the solid, burning expanse of his skin against yours.
Your hands left his hair, your fingers scrambling frantically for the buttons of his shirt, your movements uncoordinated and desperate. You managed to undo the first two, knuckles brushing the scalding, smooth skin of his collarbone.
Suddenly, his large, warm hands snapped around your wrists, pulling them away from his chest and instead pinning them against the wall on either side of your head.
He looked at you, panting, a look of fear clouding his features. Even now, he was fighting his own suffocating lust, terrified that tomorrow morning you'd wake up and look at him with regret.
"Are you completely sure?" he asked. His eyes frantically searched yours with a vulnerable intensity. "Look at me. Tell me to stop right now and I will step away. I swear to god I will walk out that door if this isn't what you want. We don't have to do this—don't do something you'll regret tomorrow. I can't take that from you. Please."
You stared up at him, your vision swimming with frustration and a yearning so deep it felt like a physical ache in your gut. You looked at his tightened jaw and the dark, desperate pools of his eyes, and you decided you were entirely done with his hesitation.
"I need you, Seonghwa," you stated, your voice cutting through his panic, steady and laced with a fierce, demanding heat. You twisted your wrists in his grip, refusing to back down an inch. "So if you don't shut up and fuck me within the next five minutes, I will personally throw you outside into the blizzard."
Seonghwa froze. For a fraction of a second, he just stared at you, completely taken aback, his lips parted in utter disbelief at the sheer audacity of your threat.
Then, the rigid tension in his shoulders suddenly cracked. A low, rough chuckle broke from his chest—a sound so rich, surprised, and deeply fond it made your heart leap. The hesitation in his eyes quickly faltered, replaced instantly by a heavy wave of pure, unbridled lust.
"Five minutes?" he murmured, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly purr that sent a shiver straight to your core. His grip on your wrists tightened, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin of your pulse points as he leaned down, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. "You're getting impatient."
He released your wrists only to scoop his arms under your thighs, lifting you completely off the floorboards in one powerful, effortless motion. You let out a soft gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his thin waist as your hands flew to his shoulders for balance.
He carried you past the central staircase, stepping into the dark hallway where your two separate bedrooms sat. The ambient heat from the stones radiated through the shadows, warming the narrow corridor as he guided you straight into his room.
When he lowered you onto the bed, the mattress groaned softly beneath your combined weight, and for a dizzying second, you expected him to climb over you, to pin you down with that same dominant, territorial force he had used out in the main room.
Your heart beat loudly against your ribs in fierce anticipation, every nerve in your body screaming for the heavy, crushing weight of him. But the moment the heavy coat slid off your shoulders, pooling onto the sheets beneath you, the dynamic shifted entirely.
Seonghwa didn't lean over you. Instead, he slowly sank directly to his knees between your legs, stepping down from his invisible throne to look up at you from below. The faint, bleeding light from the doorway caught the sharp angles of his face, casting his blown-out, glassy eyes in the subtle glow.
He was panting, his wide shoulders rising beneath his dress shirt, his large hands resting flat against the bed, trembling oh-so slightly. The big, dangerous bodyguard who had spent two years commanding your movements, guarding your perimeters, and treating the world like a threat had completely unraveled at your feet.
He looked up at you with an expression of pure reverence—a look so entirely stripped of pride and so broken by his own hunger that it laid his entire soul bare. He looked like a man who had finally crawled out of a desert and reached a holy shrine, completely touch-starved, desperate to be used, and entirely subservient to your pleasure.
"Please," he whispered, the syllable a broken, needy whimper that caught in his throat. He didn't move to touch you yet, his hands staying glued to the mattress as he begged with his eyes. "Tell me what you want me to do. Tell me how to touch you. I'm yours. I'm completely yours."
You pulled him up.
There was no more room for distance, no more patience for the space between his knees and the mattress. Your fingers wrapped tightly around the collar of his half-unbuttoned shirt, and with a fierce, breathless tug, you pulled him up over you.
He didn’t resist, lunging forward with a desperate, guttural gasp as his lips crashed into yours.
The kiss was a messy, bruising collision of teeth and tongues, both of you fighting for air, fighting to get closer, clawing at each other's shoulders as if trying to tear through skin. Seonghwa made a high, strained, whimpering moan in the back of his throat, a helpless, whiny noise that betrayed just how undone his restraint finally was.
He broke the kiss, his hot breath shattering against your wet lips as his hands moved down to the hem of your shirt. He could barely grip the fabric from the shakiness of his own fingers, a frustrating tremor that made him let out a weak, desperate groan.
"Let me," he gasped out, completely wrecked. "Please—fuck—l-let me see you. I need to see you."
You nodded, and with a slow, reverent care that completely contrasted the chaotic hunger in his eyes, he began to slide the heavy layers of clothing off your body.
As the fabric parted, exposing your bare skin to the dim shadows of the room, Seonghwa completely stilled. He hovered over you, his palms resting on either side of your head, and he just stared.
His eyes traced the curve of your collarbone, the slope of your waist, and the gentle rise and fall of your chest with an unhinged need. His gaze was heavy and consuming, treating the sight of your bare skin like a holy relic he had spent a lifetime searching for.
"You're gorgeous," he whispered, a ragged, breathless sob catching in his throat as a single tear welled in his eye. "God, you're so beautiful."
He sank down, completely losing his posture, his face burying straight into the crook of your neck, letting out a long, broken whine, inhaling so deeply against your skin that his chest expanded painfully against yours.
He was completely lost in your scent, the clean, intoxicating warmth of your skin mixed with the faint trace of the winter storm. He nuzzled frantically into your pulse point as his mouth left a trail of wet, desperate kisses down your throat.
"Every single day," he whimpered against your skin, his hands finally sliding down to cup your bare waist, his large palms scalding against your flesh. His fingers flexed, digging into your hips with a bruising, desperate pressure. "Two years of standing behind you, smelling your hair, watching you smile at everyone else while I had to stand back. It took every single fiber of my goddamn being not to drag you into a dark room and crawl to your feet. I was dying. I’ve been dying for two years."
Another whimper escaped the man, his head moving lower, lips tracing the center of your chest, his tongue darting out to taste the salt of your skin. He pressed his face against your stomach and let out a choked, needy sound, completely surrendered his control to you, letting you feel the terrifying velocity of his heartbeat.
You tightened your fingers in his dark hair, the silky strands catching between your knuckles, and you pulled his face up from your stomach. Seonghwa followed the movement instantly, his neck tilting back with a gasp, his eyes glassy, unfocused, and dark with a heavy wave of lust.
"Look at me," you breathed out, your voice laced with a fierce, commanding heat that made a visible tremor ripple through his shoulders.
You pulled his head up just enough to guide him, shifting your weight as you spread your knees, exposing the deepest, most vulnerable parts of your body to the dim shadows of the mattress. "Need you, baby. Right here."
Seonghwa groaned at the thought; a wrecked whine tore from the back of his throat, a helpless sound of pure need and submission.
He slid down the bed instantly, hands fumbling with the hem of your pants before removing everything in a smooth motion, hands now clamping onto your inner thighs with a bruising, desperate pressure that anchored you flat against the sheets.
His face dipped between your thighs in a content hum while his long, slender fingers separated your folds. A deep sigh escaped the man as his tongue finally tasted you. It was wide and heavy as it flattened against your clit—long, deep, devouring licks that instantly made your hips jerk off the mattress with a sharp, dizzy gasp, turning your brain into complete mush.
"Ah—Seonghwa, please," you cried out, your fingers burying into the bedsheets, toes curling as a familiar heat built in your lower belly.
A deep, vibrating groan rumbled straight out of him as he continued sucking at your clit, his lips creating a tight, suffocating vacuum that stole the breath right from your lungs, his tongue darting out in sharp, rapid flicks that had you a complete mess beneath him.
You could hear the slick, desperate sounds of his mouth, the heavy slurring of his tongue. The wet, messy slaps of his lips against your skin and the constant, needy whimpers vibrating in his chest.
You looked down through the dark, your vision swimming, and your heart nearly stopped at the sight. Seonghwa was still fully clothed from the waist down, and his cock was visibly raging against the tight fabric of his slacks—creating a massive, hard ridge that stretched the material to its absolute limit.
As he worked between your thighs, his lower body was instinctively, frantically humping into the mattress, hips rolling in a desperate, friction-seeking rhythm that sent deep, heavy vibrations pulsing right through the bed and into your own body.
"God, Seonghwa," you panted, your hands reaching down to tightly grip his hair again, keeping him pinned against your clit. "You—you're getting off just from eating me out? Fuck—look at your pants, so fucking desperate."
The words hit him like a physical wave as he let out a low moan, hips rolling harder against the mattress.
"Such a good boy," you purred, fingers gently tugging at his hair. "Look at you, doing so good for me. Eating me out so well."
Another broken whimper escaped the man, his entire body shaking, tongue moving with an even more desperate and sloppy urgency from the praise.
He was begging with every lap of his tongue, his nose burying deeper into your wetness, completely lost in your taste, your scent, and your rules. He was whimpering into your skin, high on your pleasure, devouring you as if your climax were the only thing keeping his heart beating in the dark.
The heat in your lower belly coiled tighter, a dizzying pressure that left you trembling from head to toe. You were right on the edge, your core pulsing around his wet tongue, but the unbearable friction of his clothed body rubbing against the mattress became too much to handle.
You needed him inside you.
"Seonghwa," you gasped, a commanding note cutting through your own haze as you tightened your grip on his dark hair once more, pulling his face away from your pussy.
He let out a pathetic whine at the sudden loss of contact, his lips glistening and wet with your arousal as he looked up at you through long eyelashes. His eyes were completely blown out, unfocused, and dripping with a raw, needy desperation.
"Take them off," you panted, your eyes dropping to the leaking ridge straining against his uniform slacks.
You gave a slight tug to his hair, your voice dropping into that low, authoritative purr. "Get rid of your clothes. Right now, Seonghwa."
Seonghwa whimpered as he scrambled backwards instantly, a desperate, clumsy rush to obey your every word. His fingers slipped repeatedly against the heavy buckle of his belt as he let out a frustrated, whiny groan, a curse slipping past his lips while he frantically yanked at the leather, finally unbuckling it with a loud, metallic clatter that echoed in the dark room.
He didn't even care about being neat, practically tearing at the heavy fabric of his slacks, his breath coming in short hitches as he kicked them off his long legs, sending them flying onto the floorboards.
He turned back to you, kneeling at the edge of the mattress. His cock raged proudly against his stomach, long and thick as it flushed red with beads of precum pooling in his slit.
He hovered over you, hands coming to rest flat against your thighs to steady himself from his own trembling desire. "Please," he rasped, his voice a broken whisper.
His glassy eyes pleaded with yours, stripped entirely of his usual facade. "P-please let me fill you. Tell me I can have you. I-I'm clean, I swear to god. I haven’t been with anyone. I haven't touched a soul since the day I became your shadow. There's nobody else. Only you."
The raw honesty in his confession made your heart flutter. "I'm clean too, Seonghwa," you reassured him softly, your fingers tracing the hard line of his wrist as you pulled him closer. "And I'm on the pill. You don't have to worry about anything tonight. I'm safe."
A sudden wave of relief washed over his expression, a shuddering breath escaping his parted lips as your words removed the very last barrier holding him back.
Before he could lean down, you shifted your weight, your voice dropping back into that low, teasing command that made his shoulders instantly tense. "Guide your cock against me first, Seonghwa. Slide it along my folds. Spread it."
A sharp whine broke from the back of his throat. Scrambling to follow your exact words, his trembling fingers reached down between your bodies, gripping the thick, raging length of his dick.
With an agonizing slowness, he pressed the broad head of his cock against your entrance, following your command to the letter as he dragged the slick tip of his cock up and down along your glistening folds, smoothly painting your pussy with the mixed wetness of his own arousal and saliva as well as your overflowing arousal.
The movement was absolute torture for both of you. Seonghwa let out a wrecked groan with every slow stroke, his hips subtly twitching as his body practically screamed for the tight heat of your core. Tears of desperation and need welled in his long lashes, his face entirely flushed.
"Please," he begged, his voice whiny and desperate as his eyelids threatened to flutter shut. "Please—nnngh—I can't... it's too much. Let me push inside—I’ll be so good for you. I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll take such good care of you, just please—fuck—please."
Your clit throbbed from the desperation of his words. "Do it," you breathed out, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Take me, Seonghwa."
Seonghwa lunged forward, crashing his mouth down onto yours in a devouring kiss with a loud moan—hands clamping onto your hips with a bruising, desperate grip as he finally drove his hips forward, filling you to the brim with his cock.
Two long years of suffocating tension and suppressed glances violently crashed together the moment your bodies fused. The sheer, overwhelming sensation of his cock stretching you open, filling you up knocked a high, strangled cry from your throat—a sound that was instantly swallowed by his hungry mouth.
Seonghwa groaned directly into your lips, a deep, primitive, vibrating sound that rumbled straight from his chest into yours as his body completely froze inside you. He stayed buried deep, his muscles trembling violently under the tight intensity of your walls gripping him.
His forehead rested heavily against the crook of your shoulder as he stayed buried inside you, his body shaking with the monumental strain of holding himself back. You could feel every desperate twitch of his cock, the way it pulsed needingly inside you from the tight heat of your pussy.
"Slow," you choked out, your hands sliding up his broad, sweaty back, your palms skidding against the slick expanse of his skin as you tried to anchor him. "Move slowly, Seonghwa. Let me adjust."
A choked, strangled groan escaped the deepest part of his chest, but he obeyed instantly. He pulled back with a torturously slow, deliberate drag, the slick friction making you whimper as your walls clung to his length. He drove back in with an unhurried, heavy depth.
You could feel the faint, desperate flutter in his thighs—the violent, involuntary trembling of a man actively suppressing the urge to absolutely pound into you. But the instinct to claim, to take what was his, was buried in an instant. The desperation to please, to be good, completely overtook his senses.
The quiet hum of the room shattered the second Seonghwa moved, incoherent, desperate ramblings muttered frantically against your neck, his voice completely wrecked as he found a slow rhythm.
"Nnngh—you feel so good," he babbled, his breath hot and damp against your skin. "So tight—god—you're so warm. I can't ...I can't think..."
Though his pace remained slow, his hips twitched hard with every thrust, cock reaching so deep it left you gasping. He hitched, a sharp breath from his throat as his large hands tightened on your hips.
"C-can I go faster?" he begged, desperately whining as he looked down at you with tear-soaked eyes. "P-please... fuck, please let me. I need this so bad. I'm losing it."
You looked up at his flushed face, a dark, thrilling surge of power coiling in your chest despite the heavy, sweet ache building in your own hips.
"Not yet, princess," you whispered, a low, teasing authority dripping from your tongue. You looked at the desperation twisting his beautiful features and let out a breathless, mocking exhale. "You're going to suffer the exact way I did for two long years."
Seonghwa cried out at the words, a loud, broken sob slipping past his lips from the denial but also from how fucking good you felt. The sound of his ragged breathing filled the small room, competing only with the fierce howling of the blizzard beating against the cabin walls outside.
You reached up, hand gripping forcefully around his jaw. Your fingers dug into his skin, tilting his head down and forcing his eyes to lock directly onto yours.
"Look at me," you commanded sternly.
He obeyed instantly. Completely pliant, his jaw rested heavily in your hand, his gaze wide and unfiltered. The sheer need to be good, to be trapped entirely by your rules, waiting on your every breath so beautifully spread across his face.
You pulled his face down the last remaining inch, crashing your mouth against his in a hungry, wet kiss. Seonghwa was soft against your lips, following your lead with a desperate, slippery rhythm that mirrored his surrender.
You pressed your lips firmly against his, your hearts synced with a beat that vibrated right through your chests, and you finally decided to unleash the beast at your feet.
"Fuck me, baby," you whispered against his mouth, your voice a dark, demanding promise. "Fuck me like you mean it."
The final thread of his self-control violently snapped. A loud groan erupted from the man, finally replacing the cautious rhythm with hard and brutally fast thrusts.
He drove into you with a dizzying speed, his hips slamming against yours with a wet, heavy slap that echoed loudly in the dark room. The sounds became chaotic and loud—the wet, squelching friction of his slick shaft sliding in and out of your overflowing wetness, the heavy, rhythmic thud of his pelvis bruising against yours, and the wrecked groans tearing from his throat with every single thrust.
He was pounding into you like a man possessed, his cock bottoming out with every single thrust, filling you up in a way you never thought your body could physically handle. You moaned against his mouth, your back arching off the mattress as your vision threatened to turn white.
Your fingers clawed desperately into the thick muscles of his shoulders, drawing faint red lines across his skin as he consumed you, driving you both higher and higher into a blinding, suffocating heat that completely obliterated the winter freezing outside.
The friction between your bodies reached a feverish pitch. The room felt entirely too small, too hot, the air heavy and thick with the scent of sex, wood, and the salt of your mingled sweat. Seonghwa’s movements had completely lost all semblance of calculated precision; he was running on pure instinct, his chest heaving as he repeatedly buried his thick length deep inside you.
"Ah—Seonghwa, Seonghwa, wait—" Your voice broke, a breathless, desperate cry, as the electric coil in your lower belly wound tighter and tighter, turning into a sharp, intolerable ache.
He stuttered against you in a sharp, ragged hitch as his whole body went rigid. He looked down at you, his eyes wide and glassy.
"I'm close—god, I'm so close," he babbled incoherently, his voice a broken sound as his hips trembled violently against yours. "I can't hold it, I'm going to—"
"You can't come," you cut him off in a commanding tone. Your fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders, holding his weight in place. "You don't get to come until I do, Seonghwa."
His head shook back and forth, dark strands of wet hair clinging to his flushed forehead as he choked out a ruined sob. "P-please... it hurts, it feels too good, I'm right there—"
"Then hurry up," you panted, your eyes burning into his.
He scrambled to obey, his body shifting slightly as his right hand slid down between your fused bodies. You gasped when his thumb found your clit, circling it with a desperate wet friction that made your hips stutter from the touch.
His other hand flew up to tightly grip the swell of your breast, his large palm molding over your soft skin with a possessive intensity. He leaned down, his mouth hot as he took your nipple between his lips, tongue swirling and flattening against the sensitive peak in a tight, heavy rhythm while his teeth desperately grazed the edge.
Every deep pull of his mouth sent a jolt of pleasure straight down to your core, perfectly synchronized with the rapid, wet friction of his thumb circling your clit and the heavy, stuttering depth of his cock thrusting you open.
You completely lost your mind. Your head thrashed against the pillows, your vision splintering into blinding streaks of white heat as the intense, throbbing pressure in your lower belly expanded.
"Seonghwa—Seonghwa, now, I'm—"
Your hips gave one final, shuddering spasm against his hand as your climax violently hit, locking your muscles tight while your walls pulsed aggressively around his length in hot, crushing waves.
Seonghwa broke out in a quiet sob, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth were grinding, tears of restraint spilling down his flushed cheeks as he waited for your spoken cue.
You looked at the man, fingers tangling weakly in his sweat-soaked hair. "Cum, baby," you purred. "You deserve it. So good for me."
A low groan erupted from him as his body violently slammed forward, chasing the same peak you had achieved mere seconds before.
His climax hit him hard, driving his hips forward in one last, deep thrust, pinning you flat against the mattress as his thick length pulsed inside your squeezing hole. You could feel the pool of his release painted deep inside you, a thick, pulsing heat that felt like an electric current radiating straight through your pelvis.
He shot into you over and over, his muscles locking into painful, rigid lines along his back and shoulders as he fucked every single drop of cum out of his spent cock, his breath leaving him in short, pathetic whimpers.
Slowly, the frantic beating of his heart began to steady, his sweaty chest collapsing fully against yours as the room fell into a deep, suffocating quiet. Seonghwa didn't pull out. He stayed buried deep within your warmth, his face nuzzled straight into the crook of your neck as his trembling arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you to his skin like a man who had finally found his home in the middle of the dark.
The adrenaline slowly drained from the room, leaving behind a thick, humid silence that felt completely detached from the raging blizzard outside. You laid there beneath his solid weight, your mind a hazy, comfortable blur of exhaustion and pure bliss.
Seonghwa’s face remained buried in your neck, his breath coming in slow, shuddering puffs against your damp skin. You slid your hands up his sweaty shoulders, fingers gently running through the dark, damp strands of his hair, massaging his scalp in slow, soothing circles.
"You did so well, Seonghwa," you murmured, your voice dropping into a soft, comforting whisper against his ear. "Look how sweet you are. You took such good care of me, baby. I felt so safe, so incredibly good."
An involuntary whine escaped the back of his throat—a helpless, tiny sound that broke your heart with how sweet it was. He buried his face deeper into your skin, completely pliant, soaking in the soothing rhythm of your voice like a child being comforted after a long storm.
The cooling air of the room finally began to bite at your bare skin, and you gently tried to shift your weight to clean up. "I'll be right back, okay? I need to grab a towel from the bathroom."
The moment you tried to pull away, a sharp wave of panic rippled through his dazed state. Seonghwa let out a louder, more frantic whine, and his large hand blindly scrambled across the sheets until his fingers locked around your wrist. His grip wasn't bruising or forceful like before; it was heavy, trembling, and deeply desperate, silently begging you not to break the physical connection. He shook his head weakly against your shoulder, his eyes unfocused as he clung to your wrist like a lifeline.
"Shh, it's okay, I'm not leaving you," you soothed him, using your free hand to gently stroke his flushed cheek, kissing his forehead. "You're okay, princess. I'm just getting a towel to clean us up. I promise I’ll be right back to hold you."
He let out one more fragile, thready sigh, his fingers slowly, reluctantly loosening their grip on your wrist as he sank back into the heavy haze of the mattress.
Gathering the top sheet of the bed, you wrapped it securely around your body, dragging the heavy fabric over your shoulders. Holding the sheet tight against your chest, you slid your bare feet onto the freezing floorboards, your knees bucking slightly from the lingering tremors of your climax.
The narrow hallway was somewhat dark, only illuminated by the faint gleam of the lanterns. You navigated the shadows with a hand against the timber wall, stepping toward the small bathroom near the main room.
You reached for the doorknob, but before your fingers could even wrap around it, the door suddenly shot open.
You gasped, pulling the sheet tightly to your chin as you stumbled backward.
Standing in the doorway of the bathroom was San. He froze instantly, completely caught off guard. He was bare-chested, a white cotton sheet wrapped around his waist, and a fluffy white towel clutched tightly in his large hand. His hair was a wild, messy halo, his lips swollen, and his chest still heavily flushed with a telltale heat.
For what felt like an eternity, the two of you just stared at each other in shock. The silence in the hallway stretched, loud and incredibly awkward.
Then, your eyes dropped to the towel in his hand, and the muffled memory of the quiet giggles and the single upstairs bedroom door clicking shut from earlier flashed through your mind.
The realization hit you as an amused huff escaped your lips, and San's shoulders instantly dropped as a wide, boyish grin broke across his face.
You shared a quiet, deeply knowing nod—an unspoken pact of absolute solidarity between two people caught red-handed in the exact same state of breathless ruin.
"Towel's on the rack," San whispered, a quiet, amused chuckle catching in his throat as he stepped past you, carefully keeping his sheet secure. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, San," you breathed out, a soft laugh shaking your shoulders.
You watched his shadow vanish up the creaking wooden staircase, his heavy footsteps careful as he returned to Wooyoung upstairs. Smiling to yourself, you stepped into the small bathroom, quickly grabbing a clean, damp towel to wipe away the sticky, sweet evidence of your night along with the semen slowly trailing down your thighs.
The room was freezing when you returned, but the second you dropped the sheet and slid back onto the mattress, you were instantly engulfed in a wall of comforting heat. Seonghwa tossed and mindlessly wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flat against his damp chest. He sighed in content the moment he felt your warmth return.
He tucked the heavy wool blankets securely around your shoulders, burying his nose back into your hair as his leg hooked tightly over yours, anchoring you completely beneath him.
You couldn't help but giggle. “Seonghwa, I need to clean you.”
But his grip remained firm, pinning you against the safety of his embrace. You huffed in defeat but decided it wasn't worth the hassle.
As the blizzard continued to howl uselessly against the cabin walls, you closed your eyes and drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, wrapped in the comforting certainty that your shadow was never going to let you go.
NSFW 18+ | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
Word Count: 2.2k
Tags (Some are exclusive to part 2): Polyamory, Threesome (F/F/F), Lesbian Sex, Cigarette Burning, Kink Discovery, Strapping, Butchfemme dynamics, Dom Seongwa, Switch Mingi, Literally everyone is lesbian (hallelujah)
Pairing: Butch GF!Seonghwa x Femme!Reader x Butch!Mingi
This is a PART ONE. Second part is coming soon.
Synopsis: Keeping your sex life interesting was never your job. It was Seonghwa's. And she always knew how to keep you on your toes.
Author's Note: Chat I'm sorry this is such an aggressive self-insert. So just picture me, ok? Perfffff
Read on AO3
"I hope they haven't been waiting on us too long," a small pout forms on your lips. You may have taken a little more time than you intended to get ready. But looking this good took time, and your girlfriend was certainly never going to be the one to rush you. In fact, she often enabled it, sitting behind you on your spot on the floor and playing with your hair until you were ready to do that too.
Seonghwa's hand curls around your waist, two fingers just barely slipping under the waistband of your miniskirt, "they can be patient." She presses her lips to the crown of your hair.
You look up at her, subconsciously leaning into her side, your head tucking into the curve between her shoulder and collarbone. The smell of her perfume is strongest there, notes of cardamom and sandalwood burrowed into her skin. "You look really handsome tonight," you slide a hand up her chest to her neck, nails tracing her jaw, placing a small kiss to the right of her chin. A thin, clear print of your lips from your gloss shines on her tan skin. Your fingers tangle in the mess of layered necklaces clasped at the back of her neck.
She really does look good, and it makes your stomach flip just looking at her. The loose, washed-gray tank top hands perfectly on her slender frame. She has it tucked into her black denim jeans and covered by the thin steel gray vest that sits over it. And with it all is the beat up, onyx leather jacket you thrifted for her birthday that's conveniently sitting over your bare shoulders right now. Your green Coach purse sits over her shoulder, holding your phone and her keys. You can see the small goosebumps through the lines of ink covering her arms, but you know she's not going to take that jacket back until you're both warm inside.
She chuckles, pulling you in front of her, both arms wrapped around your waist, "Thank you, mama." You loop an arm around her neck to keep yourself balanced. "You look pretty, too," it's just a murmur as her lips graze yours. It's not a full kiss but it's enough to satiate her urge to let everyone know she's unapologetically yours right now. Her fingers play with the hem of your white tank top, thumb tracing the stitching, "I like this top."
You raise an eyebrow at her, "Yeah? Not just the way my boobs look in it?"
A slow smirk rises on her lips, "Why not both?" Her eyes trace over your body, over the swell of your breasts, down the shape of your stomach and hips, all the way to the strappy black heels on your feet.
The piercing gaze pricks your skin, a reminder of how unequivocally hers you really are.
The queue slowly inches forward, but it hardly feels like any time at all. Seonghwa doesn't unwrap herself from you even as you make it inside. She keeps her arm snugly around your waist as you approach. You see your friends at the far end of the bar, chatting it up with one another over an assortment of drinks.
Saturday nights at EIGHT's were always busy, but you could always count that your friends would be camped in that same spot even if they had to bribe people out of the way to be there. It never really mattered to you, but Yeosang always insisted. That was your spot, no one could take it.
You see her first, her warm, blonde hair shining in the bar's neon orange lights.
"Ah you made it!" she beams, "I was getting worried." She tosses her hair over her shoulder before wrapping you in a hug, her arms linking tightly around your shoulders. You struggle to breathe when she squeezes you, clearly oblivious to her own strength as her biceps tighten with every second.
You inhale a deep breath when she lets you go, a small laugh escaping you, "Sorry we're late. I lost track of time."
"All good, honey!" She smiles up at Seonghwa, hugging her in an identical fashion to you before sitting back on her bar stool.
"Jongho's in the bathroom," Yeosang sips at her margarita, licking a speck of salt off of her fingers, "she's had a bit to drink already." Jongho could always out drink the rest of you when it came to tolerance, but her bladder control was another story. "Actually, Hwa, there was something we wanted to talk with you about."
Seonghwa nods, her arm securely around your waist. You drift away from their conversation, brain and eyes wandering further down the bar.
To the bartender. One you'd never seen before.
You're used to the same two men working the behind bar every Saturday night. Soobin worked the end closest to the entrance, and Theo worked at the other end—your end. Soobin is exactly where you expect him to be, flirting with older men at his end of the bar.
But Theo. Well, he's nowhere to be found.
Instead, there's a woman. A beautiful woman. She's tall, probably bordering six feet. Her silver hair is cut into a mullet that just shaggy enough where you want to push it out of her eyes. And her arms, god her arms, you can't help but imagine them flexing right in your face—maybe even wrapped around your throat.
As she approaches, you can see the glint of silver jewelry right on her bridge, and a hoop dangling from the center of her nose.
She catches your gaze immediately, a more than friendly smile on her face. Seonghwa's presence doesn't even phase her. It makes your stomach flutter.
"What can I get started for you, baby?" Just as you had hoped, those arms do flex right in your face.
"A mojito, please," you reach to pull your card out of the purse hanging from Seonghwa's shoulder, but she shakes her head.
"It's on the house."
You freeze, dropping the bag, "Are you sure? I don't mind."
"All good. Don't worry about it."
"Where's Theo?" Your eyebrows pinch together, trying to get a good read on her.
A deep laugh escapes her, "Oh c'mon, baby. You're not really asking me about a man while I'm trying to flirt with you, are you?"
Seonghwa's hand flexes on your hip. You glance up at her. She's still focused on Yeosang, but the message is clear. She's listening. She knows.
"I'm sorry. I've just never seen you before." I would remember. "Are you new?" You lean forward against the bar, hands folded one on top of the other.
She slaps a handful of mint leaves, tossing them in a glass, "Just filling in. Theo's out for the week, so I'm covering for him. I usually only work weeknights."
"Ah…I see." You watch as her arm flexes as she shakes the drink with one hand. You admire the tattoos wrapped around it, how they dip and stretch around her biceps.
You smile when she pours the drink in front of you, putting a straw in the glass. "Thank you," you smile, biting your lip just barely. You can taste the cherry flavoring of your lip gloss. "What's your name?"
She reaches her hand across the bar, "Mingi." You shake her hand, her grip so firm it makes your legs wobble, "it's nice to meet too." Her name is just as masculine as she is. She smirks as you look her up and down again, eyes tracing over her shoulders this time, exposed by her tight black tanktop, and over her chest down to where her hands are settled on her waist.
Her fingers are covered in rings, all silver, none the same shape or size. You wonder what the chains around her neck would feel like under your fingertips or how close they would hang over your face if she was on top of you. She chuckles, giving you a lopsided grin before being called away by another patron.
You watch as she saunters away, going to greet the group of older women chatting together a few stools down from you. They greet her with wide, familiar smiles.
The hand on your waist squeezes again. You look up at Seonghwa, and this time she's looking back down at you, eyebrow raised in question. You can read it from her expression. You like her?
You nod, lip pulling between your teeth, "Where'd you even find her?"
"Mmh, I have my secrets," she plants a kiss on your cheek, "don't wanna spoil the fun." Her eyes drop to your lips, bottom one jutted out in a pout. But she only chuckles, hand running over your hair, "you trust me."
"I do."
She tilts your chin up with her knuckle, "good girl." The kiss she leaves is fleeting, just a reminder. She's in control, and there's no need to worry about anything.
—
Mingi has a break an hour later. She waves you down to join her out back. Anticipation flutters in your stomach, but you join her excitedly, leaving Seonghwa with your friends.
"Figured it might be easier to talk with you out here," she smiles that goofy smile again, the one that's slightly off-center and shows of the slight crook of one of her front teeth.
You nod, moving to stand in front of where she's leaned up against the brick wall, turning down the cigarette she offers you. You like looking at her up close now. You can take it all in much easier. The curves of her muscles are much softer in the streetlights, but you still watch them flex as she brings the cig up to her lips. You admire the chains looped to her belt, they clink together when she adjusts her hips, and you can't help but want to tug on them.
"You can touch, honey." She shifts her legs so you're standing between them now, her hand resting on her thigh but close enough to her hip that you feel like she might grab it at any moment. And you desperately hope that she does.
You bite your lip, looping your pointer finger through one of her belt loops like it's something you've done a thousand times. Her stomach rises and falls with every breath, and you want to press your hand against it, feel the muscles contracting. "Do you really work here?"
She raises an eyebrow, "yes?"
"Hm," you trace your thumb over the stitching of the belt loop, "but Hwa must've found you online, right? Is that a coincidence or…"
"You're cute," she chuckles, free hand ghosting your hip. You lean into it. "I think you know very well that I'm not supposed to tell you that."
You purse your lips, stepping closer, "Why are you listening to her? What about me?"
She takes a drag, blowing the smoke away from your face. Her hand slides to your back, the callouses of her fingers on your bare skin, "She warned me that you were this type." She laughs, "you just like to make trouble, don't you? And take people down with you?"
"She won't hurt you," you mutter, hands sliding up her stomach, fingers caressing the bare skin of her midriff. “Her rules aren't serious. It's just fun.”
“That’s not the impression I was given,” she cups the back of your neck, thumb pressing into the underside of your jaw tilting your face up toward hers. “I am curious what happens when you get in trouble, though.” Her voice drops an octave, “I wonder how she punishes you, pretty girl.”
You slide the tips of your fingers under her top, splaying them across her ribs, almost pressing yourself completely into her, “You’re welcome to find out.” Her eyes drop to your lips, and you take that as your invitation to press them against hers.
She hums into the kiss, tangling her hand in your hair, tilting your head to better slot her lips against yours. She tastes faintly of bourbon and cigarette smoke, a taste you eagerly swallow. You focus on her bottom lip, nibbling on it gently.
Her hips press into your front. And that's when you feel it, the distinct bulge right at her zipper. A quiet moan slips from your throat and into her mouth.
Mingi grins, pulling from you not even an inch, "I thought I'd come prepared tonight." Her hand wraps around the meat of your thigh as she hoists it up, wrapping your leg around her waist. She grinds into you, pushing the mound of her strap between your legs.
You feel a sharp burn on your thigh. Her cigarette. You gasp into her mouth, failing to mask the moan.
She jerks back from you. "Shit. Baby I'm sorry," she tosses it to the ground, stepping on it, grinding it into the gravel. She caresses the burn on your thigh, "Are you okay?" Her voice is serious, worried.
But you can't help the heat pulsing between your thighs. You wished she hadn't put it out. You wanted to try it again.
She raised an eyebrow at you when you bit your lip, nodding and leaning back into her. "I'm fine."
You felt her soft chuckle through the hands you had planted on her chest, "you just learn something new about yourself?"
"Maybe," you whispered, leaning back in to kiss her. Her phone was vibrating in her pocket but you ignored it.
But she stopped you, pecking you on the lips. She pulled the phone out of her pocket to show you the screen. A timer. Another rule you were kept in the dark about. A thrill shot up your spine. "My time's up, pretty girl." You whined, head falling forward onto her shoulder. "C'mon. Let's get you back inside."
Omega (omega!seonghwa x omega!reader + others | ABO smut)
Summary: As an omega, being with an alpha never felt right, and you couldn't tell why... that is until some experiences with other omegas had you changing your tune.
Ateez and whether or not they'd share you
Diamond (ot8 x princess!reader | Royal AU) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 (Hiatus)
Summary: You were the princess who always tried to be good so that there would be no need for a coup. It wasn't enough, and now you were paying for sins that did not belong to you.
Idol!Dad Ateez Universe
Ateez 9th Member AU
Hongjoong
After "The Point of No Return"
Summary: The aftermath of Hongjoong finding out his girlfriend got murdered at Coachella
Lost Sight of My Treasure (dad!Hongjoong x mom!reader)
Summary: Hongjoong agreed to get married if she promised that he'd never have to choose between her and his career, but he didn't realize that his priorities would have to change when they had a child.
Seonghwa
Animal Crossing (smut)
For My Husband (husband!Seonghwa x wife!reader) (WIP)
(Preview) (Teaser 2) (New!!)
Summary: When tragedy strikes Seonghwa, you have to be there for him, now, and you will be. Those who hurt him would pay, and you would do anything for your husband.
Yunho
Cursed by Blood (Series Preview)
Summary: Jeong Yunho was the nicest guy in school to everyone but Bae Y/n. Why? 10 years ago, his older sister was murdered by her older sister, so what better revenge was there than a sister for a sister?
Kaichou wa Maid-sama (WIP)
Summary: Maid sama but Usui Takumi is Jeong Yunho
Yeosang
Mint Chocolate Shakes and The Beach (non-idol!Yeosang x chubby!reader)
Alpha's Christmas Present (alpha!yeosang x omega!reader ft. alpha!wooyoung x reader)
San
Skinny San vs. Titty San Drabble
The Last Straw (angst,fluff) (New!!)
Mafia San (mafia boss!San x mafia wife!reader | Arranged Marriage AU) (WIP)
Summary: You and San got an arranged marriage, but he's always refused to respect you as his equal. He doesn't realize how wrong he was until he witnessed your son disrespect you in front of him.
A Distraction from Gaining the World Part 1
Summary: San wanted you, but you were his boss's wife, which usually wouldn't stop it, but you refuse to let him get close even though everyone knows your husband is the worst.
short choi san angst
Mingi
A Different Song (formerly Song Jiyeon) (dad!mingi series) 1 2 2.5 3 (New!)
Wooyoung
Idelible (Teaser) (idol!wooyoung x txt 6th member!reader) (discontinued until further notice)
Wooyoung x girl next door!reader smut
Jongho
Ready or Not (dad!Jongho angst series)
Queen of Tears (Hiatus)
Summary: Chaebol heiress, Hong Y/n, and idol, Choi Jongho, fell in love three years ago, but now their marriage is tense, and Jongho can't take it anymore. He hates the Hong family, and he can't stand his wife. But suddenly, as he is considering divorce, she gives him some bad(?) news.
Cheer You On (soccer player!jongho x cheerleader!reader) (New!!)
Everything Preview Part 1
Summary: Jongho wrote his song "Everything" so that he'd finally be able to move on from his ex-girlfriend to finally be able to pursue you.
Warnings: Fem! ReaderxMingi, Stalking (duh), Fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), choking, oral (fem rec.) DEAD DOVE!
Something in your gut tells you not to trust him, but your brain says otherwise.
wc: 4k
Click, click, click, you hear someone's heels on the pavement behind you. Of course, your shift lasted until the last bus ran and your car was in the shop, prompting you to walk home and, this time, opting to be rid of your headphones after feeling on edge all week. Turning your head, you see no one behind you. Weird, you think to yourself. Heading in the direction of your apartment, once again feeling as if you have eyes on you. This is so weird, so fucked up. “Why would someone be following me?” You think to yourself, only hearing about these things in movies or on the news.
Heart rate picks up, blood rushing through your ears as you begin to feel on edge. More thoughts flood your mind, such as "Should I even go home?" Or walk to the police department? That convenience store? No. Don’t subject some innocent cashier to a possible crime. Shaking the thoughts from your head, trying to rationalize that no way could anyone be following you, you stop at the convenience store anyway. Feeling particularly hungry, working late, and all.
Doors chime, alerting the cashier of your arrival. Seeing them almost asleep at the register, you give them a small apologetic smile, heading to the aisle that holds your favorite snacks.
What could pass as dinner but take little to no effort? You think, biting your lip in thought. Spotting something passable, you grab it, smiling as you turn to walk to the register. At least you tried. You bump into a strong chest, stumbling back as the stranger catches you.
“Woah there! Be careful,” he chuckles. You apologize quickly, looking up to his face to apologize more sincerely. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. You think to yourself, quickly shaking your head to rid yourself of the thought. “I–I’m so sorry, sir! I’ve been in my own head a lot lately.” You half bow, entirely embarrassed as a cute pink dusts your cheeks.
He laughs again, waving you off. “Don’t worry about it; it’s not often I bump into an attractive stranger.” He smiles at you, tilting his head. Is he flirting? “What’s your name, stranger?” He asks, and you give it as he nods. Little did you know, he already knew. “My name is Mingi.” He says, a big smile on his face as he sticks his tongue out to lick his lips, sticking his hand out. You accept, shaking it.
You chat for a bit, laughing and smiling together. He walks you to the register, paying for your things and exchanging numbers before bidding your goodbyes. “What are the odds he was stalking you? Nah,” you laugh to yourself, shaking your head at the ridiculous thought.
Finishing your walk home, your phone beeps as you get a text. Mingi’s name already brightening your screen. You smile, replying to his message.
<Mingi>: Arrive home okay? :)
<You>: Yes, I did! Worried about me already? ;)
<Mingi>: What if I am? ;)
<You>: You must already care for me a lot then! :P
<Mingi>: Of course I care! How could I not care for such a pretty lady? :)
Blushing at your phone, you type a quick response, something along the lines of “Haha, whatever,” bidding your goodbyes, seeing as it’s already two in the morning. As he says his goodbyes, he swipes to his camera roll, looking at all the pictures he took without you even noticing, and slips his hand under his waistband.
A few days later, you’re at work, and you hear your phone ping. Sliding it out of your pocket, you see it’s Mingi. Smiling instantly, you reply, pocketing the device again. The past few days have been spent getting to know each other to the point you consider him a friend. You guys share very similar interests; he calls you out on your hobbies without you having even told him. You’ve joked about him being in your walls, watching you, both laughing it off as some joke.
Later that night, you’re lounging around at home. Changed into sweats and a loose tee, forgoing a bra. You message him asking if he’s available to chat. Instantly, he calls you. Answering, his charming voice engulfs your speaker. “Hey, gorgeous,” he teases. You roll your eyes. “If only you could see me now, you’d change those words.” You laugh, brushing off his compliment. He hums, “Let me guess; loose tee and sweats?” he chuckles. Raising an eyebrow, you look around. “How’d you guess? Got cameras hidden in my place?” You joke, laughing. “Obviously! Just want to keep eyes on my favorite girl.” He joked, switching between the cameras he installed in your apartment. At least you thought he was kidding.
Starting to cook dinner, you throw things in a casserole dish and toss it in the oven. Starting the timer, you go to start laundry. Yapping away in your ear, laughing as he says something dumb once again. Walking past a blanket that you definitely never mentioned before that needed to be cleaned, he speaks up, saying, “Hey, don’t forget the throw on your couch!” He chirps, causing you to furrow your brows. That’s suspicious. “How did you know about that?” You ask him, extremely curious.
Sweat beads at the base of his neck. Shit. Did he give himself away? “Uh, you asked me not to let you forget when I first called!” He quickly spoke, “Yeah, that excuse should work,” he thought to himself.
Suspicion paints your face, suddenly very aware of your surroundings. You begin to search your apartment, looking for a camera as you respond, “Riiight, I guess I forgot.” You shake your head, grabbing the blanket. Could he actually be capable of something like that?
His heart rate picks up, scared shitless you’ll find out his little secret. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees you plop on your bed, ending your hunt. You still have a guess as to what he could possibly be up to, but you’re too tired to fight the feeling in your gut….
A few months later, your suspicions partially subsided, still having thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. Another night, another phone call with your good friend Song Mingi. Things have gotten heavier lately, more romantic if you could call it that. Pet names are spoken to each other, and despite your judgement, being around him makes butterflies flutter in your tummy and heat rise to your cheeks. Why does he have to be so hot?!
“So honey, I was thinking… Why don’t I take you out to dinner? My treat, of course. I wanna take you on a date and show you what you deserve. Can I? Would you like to go on a date with me?” He asks. Picking at your fingernails and nervously biting your lip, you think about it hard. It couldn’t hurt, right?
“Okay, Mingi. One date. Show me how much of a gentleman you can be,” you giggle, a flirtatious tone hitting your voice. He’s hot, so are you, and you’re damn proud of it. A man like Mingi showing interest in you was definitely an ego boost. “Just tell me what time and day to be ready, and you’ve got yourself a date, Mr. Song.” You poke at him. “Tomorrow, 7 pm. Be ready, baby. See you then, darling. I gotta go now, goodnight.” He urged, hanging up the phone. You sit there, staring at your now blank screen, confused. That was weird. Shrugging it off, you plug your phone in and drift off to sleep.
The next day arrives, you pace around your apartment with nerves on fire. He never mentioned where he’d be taking you, not even giving you a hint as to what you should wear. Would it be weird to text and ask him? Heartbeat loud in your ears as the blood rushes through them. On Mingi’s side, he's watching you pace like a trapped rat, smiling widely. “Hmm, perfect little dove. So nervous for me…” He sighs, palming himself over his pants. He loves the sight of you right now, watching you search for anything and anything to do before it’s time for him to arrive at your apartment. He begins to wonder if he should spare you, deciding if he should text you the dressing attire for the evening or let you stew. He picks up his phone, opening your messages as a new text from you appears.
<You>: Hey, Ming. Just wondering, what should I wear tonight? You never said!
He smirks, biting his lip. How long should he make you suffer? Ten minutes? Twenty? An hour? So many choices to keep you waiting, how long to make you more desperate.
Deciding on just ‘fuck it ’, he texts you instantly. What could he say? He was obsessed with you.
<Mingi>: Hey! Sorry about that, just wear something simple and casual. Nothing too fancy! It was last minute, after all. :)
Seeing his text, you smile and breathe a sigh of relief. Perfect. Ripped black jeans and a simple tee paired with your black Vans are the way to go.
It’s 6:30 before there’s a knock at your door. You speed walk to it, waiting a few seconds to not seem so desperate. Remember, this guy could be our stalker. Opening the door, you’re greeted with his smiling face, glasses sitting on his nose, and your favorite flowers in his hand. He hands them off to you, uttering a quick compliment of, “God, you look sexy even in the simplest outfits,” He says as he kisses your cheek.
“Wow, Mingi. I’m surprised you remembered I even mentioned these!” You smile brightly, taking them from him and finding a vase. GOD, he loved that look on your face. He wondered if you’d look the same taking his- “Hello?? Earth to Mingi? You giggle, waving your hand in his face. You could stare at him too, with him standing here in his fitted jeans that hug his plush thighs nicely and a random band tee that you’ve never heard of.
“Sorry, honey. You just look so good tonight.” He blushes. You roll your eyes, pink dusting your cheeks once more. “Whatever you say, Mingi.” Turning to find a vase for the bouquet. Once you fill the glass with water, you set it on the counter. “Okay, I’m ready,” you say, following him out the door, being sure to lock it.
Fried food and sounds of balls hitting pins fill the air, a bowling alley stuck in the 90s is the place he decided to take you. “Bowling, huh?” you nudge Mingi, turning to tell the worker your shoe size. “Yeah, why not? Figured I should see how competitive you can be” He teased, grabbing his shoes. You walk to your designated lane, putting the probably twenty year old shoes on your feet securely before walking over and punching your names into the screen.
“You can go first, Min, wanna see how competitive you can be,” you laughed, throwing his words back in his face. He rolled his eyes at you playfully, grabbing a ball from the rack, and immediately landing a strike. You stand there, mouth agape, eyeing him suspiciously. “And you thought you had to worry about me?”
Night goes on, a small bit of playful bickering between the two of you as it comes down to him being the winner. “Nice game, doll.” He poked at your ribs, a small pout on your face. “Whatever, Mingi.I let you win!” you lied; he obviously knew you didn’t. “Let’s go eat, I’m starved!” Grabbing his hand, leading him back into the cool night air after returning the borrowed shoes.
You lead him to your favorite spot near your apartment, half-drunk milkshakes and finished burger plates litter the table. More giggles and jokes shared between the two of you. “No, I’m telling you, Mingi! I swear, I had a stalker for the better part of six months. I was terrified!” you opened up to him, gauging his reaction to the news. You were still slightly suspicious of him, after all.
“No way, that’s crazy! And they just stopped randomly one day?” he asked, sipping his shake. You nod, “Seems so! Maybe they got bored or something,” shrugging and swirling around the melted malt that sits in the glass. He reaches over and takes your hand, “I’m sure everything is okay now, doll. And as long as you’re with me, you’re safe.” You looked into his eyes, nodding as he rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand. Heart stuttering at the gesture, momentarily forgetting any thoughts you had of him being the culprit. “Mingi, take me home…. Your home, please?” He nods, slamming a bunch of money on the table, and leads you out.
Arriving at his place, he turns and pins you to the back of his door. “Can I kiss you, doll? Please, can I?” Heart pounds in your ears, unable to speak. You nod, able to make out a simple “Yes, please.” He surges forward, cupping your face and smashing your lips together. A battle of tongue, teeth, and spit, your hands fisting his shirt to pull him impossibly closer. He bites your lower lip, pulling a gasp from your throat as he soothes the sting, moving to suck on your tongue. “So sexy, just for me…” He mutters lowly, right against your lips.
He moves his lips to your neck, licking a stripe up from your shoulder to behind your ear, blowing cool air over the wet skin, earning him a shudder from your trembling body. “Mingi, please,” you pant, sparkling eyes looking into his. “Please touch me,” you practically beg, heat shooting through his core.
“Fuck, okay,” he swears, throwing you over his shoulder and pausing at the two rooms across from each other. “First, I need to tell you. This one is the bathroom; the other one is off limits. Do not go in there.” You nod, noting it for later. “Okay, understood. Please just fuck me.”
He tosses you onto his red and black duvet, pulling your shoes off your feet and tossing them carelessly behind him. “Can I strip you, honey?” he asks, hands rubbing up and down your ribs soothingly. “Yes,” you nod as his hands reach the hem of your top, pulling it over your head. He sucks in a breath, biting his lip at the sight of your body. “Fuck,” he groans, moving his hands to your waistband, undoing the button and zipper before pulling the ripped fabric off your body.
“God, you’re so sexy. Did you plan on this happening?” he smirks, noticing the matching undergarments you have on. “N-no, nothing else was clean!” You whined, feeling his big hands on your plush thighs. Hands sliding up to tease where you need him most, holding your breath. “Mingi, don’t tease me, please.” He looks you up and down, licking his lip. “Baby, I think you’re lying. You just did laundry yesterday, remember? Should punish you for the fib?” He chuckles, snapping the band of your thong against your skin.
“No, please don’t!” you whimper, fingers gripping the fabric of his sheets. He clicks his tongue, pulling his shirt off. “You sure, doll? I bet you’d look so pretty with tears streaming down your face.” He already knows you do, and maybe he has gotten off on it before. His fingers pull your thong down your legs, frustratingly slow. Fingers sliding back up your legs, back to your thighs to return to his teasing. Fingers sliding up and down your slit now, collecting the wetness. “So wet f’ me, and I’ve barely touched you.” He mutters, yanking you to the edge of his bed by your ankles and kneeling before you.
“Been dying to taste you since we first met,” he said lowly, looking you right in your eyes as he licks a strip up the opening of your cunt. “M-Mingi…” you stutter out, reaching to grab his hair. He intercepted your hands, pinning them back to the mattress. “Keep ‘em there for me, okay, baby?” You nod, earning a pleased smile from the man. “Good girl,” he praised, kissing along your thighs before diving in once more.
He licks, sucks, and slurps you down, two fingers pummeling inside you and hitting your sweet spot already. White knuckling the duvet, back arching as you gasp his name, begging to touch him. “Mingi, please! Let me touch you!” you fussed as he kept pushing all the right buttons to send you over the edge. Tongue still inside you, he shakes his head no, a gasp ripping from your throat. Pulling away, deep voice spoken against your pussy, “No way baby, I love the way you writhe,” He chuckles, adding a third finger.
He’s practically making out with your pussy, tongue coming up to flick your clit, fingers beginning to do that “come here” motion against the spot you need him most. “Cum for me baby, need to feel you coat my tongue as I taste you.” He groaned against you again, the other hand palming his throbbing cock over his pants, threatening to rip right through the denim. Your hips having a mind of their own, humping his face as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter, “Y-yes, fuck yes! I’m cumming!”
The band snaps, cum coating his tongue and face as your legs shake, crying and whimpering out his name mixed with curses. A sadistic grin paints his face as he licks his lips and fingers clean. He kisses your thighs, helping you calm down. He rises to his feet, commanding tone as he grips your chin. “Look at me,” he growled. Peeling your eyes open, you stare into his eyes. Pupils blown wide, your eyes scan his body, spotting the erection threatening to break free.
Devious smile stretches, asking you if “you like what you see?” you nod, biting your lip. “Just wait until you see the real thing” you swallow hard as he takes his belt off, popping the button and pulling down the zipper. He pulls them down to his ankles, kicking them off. Cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, spotting a small wet spot. He pulls those down as well, slowly to tease you as his hard length springs free and up to his belly button.
Gasp caught in your throat, eyes bugging out, you ask him, “Min, will that even fit?” He laughs, Gods you’re so precious. He climbs on the bed, leaning over you to cup your face, words hitting your skin like shards of glass. “Baby, we’ll make it fit.” Sitting back on his haunches, he spreads your legs as he grabs his cock. Stroking it before slapping it against your pussy, head catching your clit as he slides it up and down to collect your wetness, “Fuck, you ready for me honey?” he asks, pushing your thighs to your chest. “Yes, Mingi- fuck. Please fuck me!” you cry, tears threatening to spill.
He nods, pressing the head of his cock to your entrance before pushing in. Tight walls squeezing the thick girth, his head is thrown back, and groaning. “Fuck, baby. So nice and warm, squeezing me so good. So perfect for me.” He leans down, placing his head in the crook of your neck, placing lazy kisses there. Your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent shaped marks. He picks up his pace, changing the angle so his head is slamming against your cervix. You scream, nails raking down his back and leaving angry red marks.
“M-Mingi! S-Slow down! Please!” You cry out, tears of pleasure streaming down your face now. Seeing you in this state, he licks them off your face and moans, “So pretty like this, so perfect for me,” lowly in your ear. His praise, his cock, his actions send you closer to the edge, pulling him closer. “Mingi, I’m so close,” you whine. He sits up, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he snaps his hips against yours, faster and harder, angling his hips once again to hit the spongey spot inside you. Bringing his thumb down to rub your clit, arching your back again. “Cum for me baby, doing so good for me. Best pussy I’ve had. Such a good girl listening to me,” he growled.
“Fuck, Mingi! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! Gods, help! It feels so weird this time,” you whimper, head thrown back. He has to bite his lip to hide the smirk, uttering the words, “That's okay, baby. Let go, cum for me.” Hips slam into yours thrice more before you’re cumming, pussy drenching his cock, abdomen, and thighs as you scream his name. Clawing at his chest and arms, sure to leave marks behind, proving what happened tonight.
“Holy shit, you’re so sexy. Fucking squirting on me like that. Such a perfect whore for me, aren’t you?” he moans, slamming into you faster, hips stuttering as he nears his high. “Fuck, where do you want it?”
“INSIDE! Please! Need to feel you fill me,” you moan, nerves feeling as if they’re on fire. Your words set him ablaze, ripping your body up and slamming his lips against yours as his balls draw tight and fill your pussy, flooding you with his seed as he paints your insides white. You groan into each other's mouths, sobbing his name into his mouth. Collapsing against each other onto the mattress, panting as you both try to catch your breath. “Shit, I think that’s the best lay I’ve ever had,” you giggle, snuggling into his chest.
He reaches his fingers down, thrusting his leaking seed back into your pussy. “I could say the same, doll.” He chuckles, leaning in to kiss you passionately. You pull back, smiling. “Sorry about the mess…” you trail off, blushing. “Don’t worry about it, baby.” Cuddling into him again until you both drift off to sleep, hearts beating as one.
A few hours later, you wake up with the urge to use the bathroom. Quietly slipping from his grasp, you slip on his shirt and head to the door. Now in the hallway, heading to the bathroom as you eye the door he told you not to enter. Curiosity brews in your belly, brain screaming at you not to peek. Ultimately, your gut wins. You hold your breath, listening for any movement from his room.
Once you feel the coast is clear, you turn the knob, entering the room. Met with a dozen screens, multiple cameras set and aimed at very specific angles. Why does this place look familiar? You wonder, brows furrowed. Then it hits you-
“Fuck, this is my place.” Anxiety fills your veins as your eyes dart across each screen. They’re aimed at your bed, shower, couch, kitchen- basically anywhere he could see you. Tears prick your eyes. You should’ve pressed him further. Should’ve called him out more. Why did he have to be so devastatingly attractive?!
You didn’t hear him creep behind you, his voice scaring you. “Didn’t I tell you not to fucking come in here?” he boomed, walking towards you. Backing into the wall, fear now running rampant. “Mingi, why?” you sniffle, tears slowly falling now as your eyes dart between him and the screens. “Why?” he laughs. “You really want to know?” He smiles evilly, one you used to think was kind of cute. “I can’t really explain it. I walked past you one night after work and became so infatuated; I had to know you.” he stepped closer, cupping your face. You close your eyes, so terrified. Fingers move to grip your chin. “Look at me when I talk to you, baby.”
You swallow down the lump in your throat, looking up at him. “I can’t explain why I didn't just come up to you. Introduce myself, I just had to do it this way. Getting into your apartment was so easy, too. Just had to tell the leasing office I was house-sitting for you and got locked out.” He laughed; he actually fucking laughed at that. “You’re mine now, baby, completely mine. You can’t escape me now.” Hand moves to your throat possessively. “There’s no escaping now.”
summary: she was a one night stand until he saved her life now they’re bound for eternity
warning: dom yunho, sub reader, oral, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, spitting, choking, squirting, breeding, creampie, mentions of death
genre: dark romance, supernatural
pairing: prince of hell yunho x afab human reader
word count: 6.1k
chp 2 coming soon
masterlist
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The apartment door practically slammed open. The hinges creaking loudly in the old exterior as rain poured outside and thunderous booms echoed as flashes of lightning decorated the sky. It was as if mother nature herself was lashing out at what was happening.
“Fuck…” His lips moved to her neck as tossed his jacket off and lifted her, pinning her to the wall. “I need to taste you.” Normally, Yunho wouldn’t beg. Being a 400 year old demon prince, he’s used to getting what he wanted but something about her…. he’d drop to his knees if he had to. “No one is stopping you.” She smirked and a deep, primal growl rumbled from Yunho’s chest the second those words left her lips and his grip on her thighs tightened, fingers digging into her thighs as he pulled her harder against him. “Where’s your bedroom?” he demanded, voice low and rough like gravel dragged over silk.
“Down the hall… across from the bathroom,” she breathed, barely finishing before he was already moving. He carried her like she weighed nothing, long strides eating up the distance while she stayed pressed to his chest and her legs locked around his waist. The door to her bedroom swung open with a kick and he dropped her onto the mattress and started following her down immediately to claim her mouth again in a bruising kiss as his hands worked fast but deliberately to yank the ripped jean shorts down her legs and tossing them aside before he peeled the black tank top she had on upward, exposing smooth skin inch by inch. The bra came next, unclasped with a flick of his fingers, not that she could see that, and dragged it down her arms.
Yunho didn’t rush the reveal. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, kissing the swell of each one before his tongue dragged slow, wet circles around her nipples. He sucked one between his lips, teeth grazing just enough to make her arch, then switched to the other, nipping and leaving faint red marks that would darken later as his hands slid under her, lifting her body higher up the bed until her head rested against the pillows. “Ride me,” he growled, the command vibrating through the air between them and in one swift motion he hooked his fingers into her panties and stripped them off before dragging her forward until her thighs straddled his face.
He held her there with an iron grip on her hips, mouth opening wide to devour her pussy. His tongue thrust deep inside her without warning, fucking into her with wet, obscene sounds while he growled against her. “Fuck, this pussy… best I’ve ever tasted,” he rasped between licks, the words carrying centuries of experience she couldn’t possibly understand. He sucked her clit, tongue flicking rapidly until her thighs shook and she came hard on his face but Yunho didn’t let her lift off. He kept her pinned, licking every drop clean with long, slow strokes until she whimpered from oversensitivity. Only then did he release her, pulling her down his body while his mouth trailed kisses across her stomach and sides.
He sat up just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, then shoved his pants and underwear down, kicking his shoes off in the process and let her look. Her eyes dropped immediately to his dick, thick, heavy, and already leaking at the tip. It twitched under her gaze, veins prominent along the length. She reached for him without thinking, sliding off the bed to kneel between his legs, reaching and wrapping her hand around the base, stroking upward in a slow glide before her tongue followed the same path, licking from balls to tip with deliberate patience.
She barely had time to open her mouth before Yunho’s hand caught her jaw. “Open,” he ordered and she obeyed, watching as he leaned down and spat directly onto her tongue and watching her swallow the offering before he released her and she dove back in, lips stretching around his dick as she took him deeper, pulling off only to drag her tongue over his balls, sucking one gently before returning to fuck her own mouth on him. Spit ran down her chin, the wet sounds filling the room along with his low groans but just as his breathing grew ragged, Yunho pulled her off by the hair.
He dragged her back onto the bed, kissing her hard while his hand slipped between her legs. One finger pushed inside her soaked pussy, curling against her walls. “So fucking wet… all for me.” He pulled his finger free and held it up between them and she leaned in without hesitation, sucking it clean making Yunho’s grin sharpen. “Good girl.” She kissed him again, desperate now. “I need you inside me.” Another growl tore from his throat before he flipped her onto her stomach, one hand running down the length of her spine before gripping her ass hard enough to leave prints.
His dick slid between her cheeks, dragging slowly, then lower to tease her clit with the head. Then without further warning he thrusted in deep in one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt making her cry out, fingers clawing at the sheets as her walls stretched around him, clenching tight as Yunho moaned low, hips already rolling. “Fucking made for me,” he hissed, starting slow and deep before gradually increasing the pace. Her begging came soon after, broken pleas, “harder….. please…. faster…” and he gave it to her, pounding into her with bruising force, the bed frame slamming against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.
One hand fisted in her hair, yanking her upright against his chest and he held her there, fucking up into her relentlessly while his free hand slid around to rub her clit. The orgasm hit her hard making her shake violently, screaming as she squirted around him. But once again Yunho didn’t stop. He kept driving into her through the aftershocks until a second rushed climax tore through her, leaving her limp and gasping. He eased her down onto the mattress, pulling out only to flip her onto her back, eyes raking over her flushed body, settling on her soaked pussy. His thumb brushed gently over her swollen clit. “Can you still keep going?”
Breathless, she met his gaze. “If you don’t get back inside me and come… you can go to hell.” Yunho’s grin widened, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. She had no idea how literal that statement was. He spread her thighs wide, tapping his dick against her sensitive clit a few times. “Knock knock,” he teased, voice dripping with heat before he sank back inside her in one long thrust and her legs wrapped around his waist instantly, pulling him deeper.
He moved slower at first, savoring the tight heat of her and the way her walls clenched him, one hand sliding up to wrap around her throat and her own hands followed, gripping his wrist as he began pounding into her again. She squirted again, the wet gush soaking his him and the sheets beneath them making Yunho groan in approval, hips never faltering. “I’m gonna have to have you again… and again… and again… fuck…” He was pussy drunk, completely addicted to the way she clenched around him, to every sound she made. How she begged him to come inside her, voice hoarse and desperate making Yunho tighten his fingers just slightly around her throat. “Yeah? You want me to breed you? Ruin you for anyone else?”
He released her neck and folded her legs back into a deep mating press, folding her nearly in half. The new angle let him drive even deeper, pounding into her with brutal precision and all she could do was whimper his name, overwhelmed and crying from the intensity as her final orgasm crashed through her just as Yunho buried himself to the hilt and came hard, flooding her with him and stayed locked inside her through every pulse, grinding deep until he was empty.
When he finally collapsed beside her, both of them were breathless, bodies slick with sweat as she curled into his chest without thinking and he pulled her closer, already feeling the hunger stir again despite the exhaustion. They were ruined completely, thoroughly and already wanting more.
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Monday arrived wrapped in a deceptively perfect California afternoon. The storm that had rattled Los Angeles for two nights and had vanished without a trace, leaving behind endless blue skies and sunlight that bounced off the glass towers downtown. Traffic crawled below in its usual symphony of impatient horns, helicopters drifting lazily overhead chasing whatever celebrity scandal had become today’s headline, and somewhere down on Sunset Boulevard, people carried on as though the world had never stopped spinning.
From the floor to ceiling windows of a luxury penthouse overlooking the city, Yunho watched it all in silence. He’d owned the apartment for nearly seventy years. Before that, it had belonged to another building entirely. Before that, there had been nothing but empty hills. He’d watched Los Angeles grow upward one decade at a time until the skyline barely resembled the city he’d first wandered into centuries ago.
His fingers rested loosely around a crystal glass filled with whiskey, though he’d barely touched it. The amber liquid caught the afternoon light as he leaned one shoulder against the window, silver hair falling across his forehead. He looked every bit the successful businessman any human would expect to find living in a place like this. Only the faint pulse of infernal magic humming beneath his skin betrayed what he truly was.
His thoughts, much to his irritation, had wandered somewhere else entirely however. A tiny apartment. Rain hammering against old windows. A woman with absolutely no sense of self preservation. He could still hear her voice after she’d told him to go to hell if he didn’t get back inside her and the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself. “Ironic,” he muttered beneath his breath. Four hundred years. Thousands of faces. Kings. Queens. Artists. Warriors. Lovers whose names had long since been forgotten by history. Yet somehow… the woman who worked nights at a club in Los Angeles had managed to occupy more of his thoughts in forty eight hours than most people had in decades.
Ridiculous.
He pushed away from the window, draining the rest of the whiskey before setting the glass on the marble counter. He should’ve gone back already. There wasn’t any reason to remain on Earth. Not really…….
a familiar ripple rolled through the room, invisible to any human eye as the air bent inward as though reality itself had exhaled. Yunho didn’t bother turning around. Instead he sighed. “Let me guess…” he said dryly. “Dad thinks I’ve been up here too long again?”
A soft chuckle answered him. “You always know it’s me.”
Yunho finally looked over his shoulder to the demon standing in the middle of the penthouse as though he’d always belonged there. Seonghwa. Unlike Yunho, Seonghwa made no effort to pretend humanity fascinated him. Everything about him carried quiet refinement. His black coat fell perfectly over tailored clothes, not a wrinkle to be found, and his posture remained impossibly straight. There was an ageless elegance to him, the kind earned only after centuries of existing. Six hundred years had sanded away any impulsiveness he might’ve once possessed, leaving behind someone whose calm could make even the oldest demons uncomfortable. He was one of the few beings Lucifer trusted without reservation. Which, in Hell, was saying something.
Yunho folded his arms across his chest. “So?”
“So…” Seonghwa replied with the ghost of a smile, “Lucifer doesn’t particularly care how long you’ve been on Earth.”
“He doesn’t?”
“No.”
“Huh.”
“He does, however, require your assistance.”
“There it is.”
Seonghwa ignored the comment with practiced ease. “There’s a man in Laguna Beach.” Yunho groaned before Seonghwa had even finished. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I literally know what you’re about to say.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“He wants fame.”
“He does.”
“He thinks selling his soul is easier than developing talent.”
“He does.”
Yunho pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate these.” Seonghwa’s lips threatened another smile. “I know.”
“They’re always the same.”
“They usually are.”
“They never ask for something interesting.”
Seonghwa tilted his head slightly. “What would you consider interesting?” Yunho walked toward the kitchen, opening the refrigerator more out of habit than necessity before closing it again. “I don’t know. World peace. The cure for cancer. Maybe someone wants to become the greatest violinist in history.”
“And instead?”
“They want followers.”
“Millions of them.”
“They want money.”
“Lots of it.”
“They want everyone to love them.”
“And nobody ever specifies why.”
Seonghwa gave a single approving nod. “You’ve conducted enough bargains.”
“I’ve conducted too many.” Silence settled between them for a moment before Yunho glanced toward the skyline again. “What’s his name?” Seonghwa reached into the inner pocket of his coat and withdrew a small leather bound book. Not paper. Human skin. The pages turned on their own before stopping halfway through and he glanced down briefly. “Ethan Holloway.” Yunho sighed as Seonghwa started reading. “Twenty seven. Aspiring musician. Convinced social media algorithms are personally conspiring against him.” Yunho looked at him flatly. “You’re making that last part up.”
“I wish I were.”
A reluctant laugh escaped Yunho before he shook his head. “And what exactly does his infernal majesty need from me? Surely someone this… uninspired could be handled by a lesser collector.”
“He requested you.”
That made Yunho pause. “He… requested me?”
“He specifically asked for the Prince of Hell.”
Now that was unusual. Humans almost never knew enough to make requests like that. Yunho’s expression sharpened ever so slightly. “Why?” Seonghwa closed the ledger. “Because he believes the Devil’s son grants better bargains. And because the internet has become… surprisingly creative.”
Yunho stared at him. “You’re telling me conspiracy forums have reached Hell.”
“They’ve reached everyone.”
For the first time that afternoon, genuine amusement lit Yunho’s face. “That’s unfortunate.”
“It truly is.”
Yunho slipped on a black jacket draped over the back of a chair, adjusting the cuffs with practiced ease. “Fine.” His keys disappeared into his pocket. “I’ll meet our future celebrity.” Seonghwa gave a single nod before adding, almost casually, “And afterward…”
“Hm?”
“Lucifer would like you to return home.”
Yunho hesitated only briefly before looking toward the glittering city stretched beneath the afternoon sun. Something in his chest resisted the idea. He couldn’t explain why. It wasn’t duty keeping him here. It wasn’t curiosity. At least… that’s what he kept telling himself as his gaze drifted, unbidden, toward the neighborhood where one very ordinary woman would probably be getting ready for another shift at the club in a few hours and frowned. “Yeah,” he murmured quietly, more to himself than Seonghwa. “Afterward.”
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Lunch with Tiffany was never cheap. That was the first thought that crossed Y/N’s mind as she stepped out onto the rooftop terrace overlooking downtown Los Angeles, one hand shielding her eyes from the bright October sun while the hostess led them toward a table near the glass railing. Six months ago, she’d have talked Tiffany out of it entirely. Today, she’d stopped trying. Tiffany had expensive taste, an appreciation for rooftop restaurants with menus that didn’t list prices until the bill came, and an irritating habit of insisting she was treating whenever Y/N complained.
The city stretched endlessly beyond them, sunlight glinting off skyscrapers that seemed close enough to touch. Down below, traffic crawled through the streets in familiar LA fashion, horns occasionally drifting upward on the warm breeze. It was almost impossible to believe that for two nights rain had flooded the streets and thunder had rattled windows hard enough to wake half the city. Y/N slid into her chair and opened the menu for all of three seconds before immediately closing it again. “Every single time you bring me somewhere like this,” she muttered, setting it back on the table, “I become painfully aware that we do the exact same job and somehow have wildly different bank accounts.”
Tiffany didn’t even bother looking up from across from her as she adjusted the oversized sunglasses resting on top of her red hair. “The difference is I don’t buy coffee every morning.” No. The difference was her daddy was a big time lawyer and gave her money whenever she wanted.
“I buy one coffee.”
“You buy three coffees.”
“They’re emotional support coffees.”
“They’re financial mistakes.”
“They’re necessities.”
“They’re why you’re still living in that shoebox apartment.”
Y/N clicked her tongue. “I liked you better five minutes ago.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Fair.”
The server appeared to take their drink orders before disappearing again, leaving the two women alone beneath the shade of a cream colored umbrella. For a few minutes the conversation stayed comfortably ordinary, bouncing from work gossip to complaints about Saturday night’s crowd at the club. They laughed about one of the bartenders nearly dropping an entire tray of drinks on a bachelor party, rolled their eyes over a regular customer who’d once again insisted he knew the owner and briefly debated whether the new DJ had somehow managed to make every song sound exactly the same.
Then Tiffany’s expression changed. It was subtle. One eyebrow lifted and her smile turned knowing as she folded her hands together on the table and looked directly at Y/N. “So…” Y/N sighed before Tiffany had even finished the word. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I absolutely do.”
Tiffany leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Then answer it.”
“I’m not answering a question you haven’t asked.”
“You’ve been brushing it off for two days.”
Y/N reached for the glass of water the server had just set down, taking a long drink that accomplished absolutely nothing except delaying the inevitable. “I haven’t been brushing anything off.”
“You disappeared Saturday night.”
“I left.”
“You left,” Tiffany repeated slowly, “with the hot blonde.” Y/N stared into her water for another second before finally letting out an exaggerated sigh. “His name was Yunho.” Tiffany blinked once. Then twice. Then pointed a finger across the table like she’d just solved the easiest mystery of her life. “You slut.” Y/N rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Oh, please.”
“You fucked him.”
Y/N opened her mouth to deny it but instead she bit down on her bottom lip and the corners of her mouth betrayed her almost immediately, a grin creeping across her face despite every attempt to suppress it making Tiffany’s eyes widen. “Oh.” Y/N looked away toward the skyline, shaking her head to herself. “Oh,” Tiffany repeated, this time with enough realization in her voice to make Y/N laugh quietly under her breath as Tiffany gasped dramatically, one hand flying to her chest. “Oh… he gave you the good dick.”
Y/N nearly choked on her water. “Oh my God,” she hissed between laughs, looking around to make sure nobody nearby had heard. “Would you keep your voice down?”
“I knew it.”
“You knew nothing.”
“I know that smile.”
“There is no smile.”
“There is a massive smile.”
Y/N rubbed a hand over her face, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the amusement away. “You’re insufferable.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re annoying.”
“I’m still right.”
Y/N let out another sigh, this one quieter, before resting her elbows on the table. “It wasn’t supposed to be… memorable.”
“But?”
“But…” A small laugh escaped her. “He was…” She searched for the word. “Different.” Tiffany didn’t interrupt this time. “He actually listened when I talked. Like… genuinely listened. Didn’t spend the whole night trying to impress me. Didn’t brag about himself. Didn’t act like buying me a drink meant I owed him something.” She absentmindedly traced the condensation on her water glass with her fingertip. “We just… talked.”
“And then?”
“And then we went back to my place.”
Tiffany nodded knowingly. “And?”
Y/N shook her head with a quiet groan. “And now I can’t stop comparing him to every other guy I’ve ever slept with, which is incredibly inconvenient.” A laugh burst out of Tiffany before she reached across the table and patted Y/N’s hand. “Honey…”
“What?”
“I don’t think your problem is that the sex was good.”
Y/N frowned.
“I think your problem is that you actually liked him.”
Y/N immediately scoffed. “No.”
“No?”
“It was one night.”
“But?”
“There isn’t a but.”
Tiffany simply gave her a look and Y/N held it for exactly three seconds before looking away toward the skyline again. “He is probably the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she admitted under her breath and hesitating a moment before admitting. “And definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.” Tiffany leaned back in her chair wearing the most self satisfied grin imaginable. “I knew it.”
“I hate that you knew it.”
“No,” Tiffany said with a laugh as their lunch finally arrived, setting steaming plates between them. “You hate that some ridiculously gorgeous stranger walked into your life for one night… and somehow ruined every man who comes after him.”
Y/N reached for a fry, pointing it accusingly across the table. “I am never telling you anything again.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The black charger purred to a stop, the engine falling quiet beneath the distant chorus of traffic and the occasional impatient blare of a horn. Yunho stepped out a second later, shutting the driver’s door with a soft click before adjusting the cuff of his black jacket. The afternoon sun hung high overhead, warming the sidewalks just enough to erase any lingering memories of the storm. His day had been, thankfully, uneventful. As expected. Ethan Holloway had proven to be every bit the cliché Seonghwa had promised.
The aspiring musician had answered the knock on his apartment door with bloodshot eyes, two days’ worth of stubble, and the unmistakable scent of desperation clinging to him stronger than cheap whiskey ever could. Yunho hadn’t even bothered pretending to be human for long. One moment he’d been standing in the cramped Laguna Beach apartment. The next… his body dissolved into a swirling cloud of black smoke that rolled across the living room floor like ink spilled into water before reforming directly behind the stunned man again. The glamour had slipped just enough. The polished black horns curling from either side of his head, eyes black. A smile that was just a little too sharp. Humans always believed in the impossible right before they signed their souls away.
The contract had appeared between his fingers with a flick of his wrist and Ethan had barely read a single sentence. “You’ll make me famous?”
“I will.”
“Worldwide?”
“If that’s what you desire.”
“And all I have to do is sign?”
Yunho had smiled. “Everyone always asks that question after they’ve already decided.” The pen touched the paper and infernal ink spread across the page. The bargain sealed itself with a pulse of crimson light before vanishing into black embers. Another soul accounted for. Another lifetime traded for a dream. Yunho had offered a polite nod, dissolved once more into smoke, and reappeared beside his car overlooking downtown Los Angeles before Ethan had even realized he’d forgotten to ask what happened when his time eventually ran out.
People rarely cared about consequences while they still believed they had decades left to worry about them. Now he intended to reward himself. He glanced across the street toward the restaurant, a faint smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he slipped his keys into his pocket and stepped away from his car, waiting at the crosswalk as the pedestrian signal remained stubbornly red. Then… he felt it. Not heard. Not saw. Felt. Ancient magic brushing against his senses like the first cold breeze before a winter storm.
Yunho’s smile faded as he slowly turned his head and saw standing perfectly still on the sidewalk directly outside the restaurant was a woman dressed in robes darker than midnight itself. No human acknowledged her existence. People walked around her without realizing they were doing it. A businessman passed so close his shoulder should’ve collided with hers, yet somehow drifted harmlessly aside at the last possible second as though reality itself refused to allow contact. Her hands rested calmly before her. Her hood was lowered with dark hair framing a face that looked neither young nor old. At her side rested the long obsidian handle of a scythe.
A Reaper.
Yunho exhaled through his nose. “Well.” The Reaper’s eyes shifted toward him with no surprise in them. Only recognition as Yunho shoved both hands into the pockets of his coat before glancing toward the restaurant, then back at her, a snort escaping him. “Please tell me this place isn’t going to burn down.” The Reaper remained silent. “At least not until I get my order,” he continued with a dramatic sigh. “They have my favorite fries here.”
The reaper remained silent until, almost imperceptibly, one corner of her mouth twitched. Not quite a smile but more…. the acknowledgment of a joke she’d heard from him a hundred times before. “You always make light of it.”
“I’ve had four centuries to work on my material.”
“And it hasn’t improved.”
“Ouch.” The pedestrian light changed and people urged into the crosswalk around them. Neither immortal moved as Yunho tilted his head slightly. “So…”
“So.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re standing outside a restaurant in the middle of the afternoon.”
“I am.”
“Which means somebody inside has an appointment.”
“Yes.”
“Soon?”
She nodded once and Yunho sighed again, this time with genuine disappointment. “Damn.” His stomach chose that exact moment to remind him why he’d stopped in the first place and he looked longingly toward the restaurant. “Any chance I can still grab the fries first?”
“No.”
“Cruel.”
“It’s my profession.”
“I thought your profession was escorting souls.”
“I can do both.”
Yunho clicked his tongue. “I liked you better three hundred years ago.”
“You’ve never liked me.”
“I tolerated you more enthusiastically.”
For the first time, something resembling amusement flickered across the reaper’s otherwise unreadable face before it vanished almost immediately and her gaze drifted toward the restaurant entrance. Yunho followed it, though from where he stood all he could see was the steady stream of patrons coming and going beneath the awning. Then the first tremor. It was so slight that most people mistook it for a passing truck but Yunho didn’t.
The vibration rolled beneath his polished shoes like something enormous had shifted beneath the earth itself. The pavement quivered once, barely enough to ripple the puddle collected near the curb after the storm, before settling again into uneasy stillness as his head lifted. But the reaper didn’t move. She simply watched the restaurant with the same unreadable expression she’d worn since he’d arrived. “That wasn’t normal,” Yunho murmured.
“It has begun.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Three floors above the street, Y/N and Tiffany had just stepped away from their table. Lunch was over, the bill reluctantly paid after Y/N spent a solid minute complaining about the price of fries that somehow cost eighteen dollars. “I’m telling you,” she muttered as they crossed the rooftop patio toward the stairwell. “If somebody serves me ketchup in a porcelain bowl one more time, I’m starting a riot.” Tiffany laughed, nudging her shoulder. “You still ate all the fries.”
“They were really good.”
“They always are.”
Y/N pulled open the heavy stairwell door, the cool concrete replacing the warmth of the rooftop as they began making their way down. They’d barely reached the first landing when the second tremor hit and the entire stairwell lurched sideways with a deafening groan of twisting steel. “What the….” The lights flickered violently and concrete dust rained from the ceiling as a deep, thunderous rumble rolled through the building, growing louder by the second.
The handrail shook beneath Y/N’s grip then everything began moving. The floor. The walls. The stairs. The entire building swayed with terrifying force as people screamed. “It’s an earthquake!” someone yelled somewhere below and Y/N’s eyes widened. “Tiff!”
“I’m here!”
She grabbed Tiffany’s wrist without thinking. “We have to get out. Now!” The two women stumbled down the stairs together as the building bucked beneath them. Every step became a fight for balance. Somewhere above them, glass exploded and the sound echoed through the stairwell as a woman cried and someone else shouted for their child.
The shaking only intensified as they burst through the second floor exit into the restaurant below and into complete chaos. Tables overturned. Wine bottles shattered across the floor. Ceiling lights swung wildly overhead as people shoved toward every visible exit, trampling chairs beneath their feet in blind panic. “This way!” Y/N shouted over the noise, still pulling Tiffany behind her as another violent jolt ripped through the structure making a support beam overhead crack with a sound like a gunshot.
The floor dipped beneath their feet as a section of reinforcement steel tore free from the ceiling, driven downward with horrifying force. Y/N barely registered the movement. One second Tiffany was beside her. The next….. the beam crashed between them and the impact threw Y/N backward as splintered wood and concrete erupted through the dining room. “Tiffany!” Her voice caught in her throat because the steel had struck Tiffany before either of them could react.
For one impossible, frozen heartbeat, neither woman moved. Y/N simply stared as her mind refused to understand what her eyes were seeing. “Tiff…” Another explosion of cracking concrete ripped through the floor beneath her feet and the building groaned. The sound finally snapped her back to herself. “No…” The section of floor beneath Tiffany began collapsing inward and Y/N stumbled forward. “Tiffany!”
Another violent shake sent a rain of glass cascading from every remaining window as the room tilted and the floor split open. Survival took over and Y/N stumbled backward just as the ground where she’d been standing disappeared into darkness. She turned and ran. Not because she wanted to. But because there was nothing else she could do. She reached the massive floor to ceiling windows overlooking the street below, desperately searching for any way out.
The city had become complete pandemonium. Cars sat at impossible angles. Traffic lights swung overhead. People flooded the sidewalks. The pavement rippled beneath the city as skyscrapers swayed against the skyline and windows burst outward. People poured from surrounding buildings as Yunho’s gaze shot upward back to the restaurant. The glass facade reflected the chaos until…..
Y/N.
His stomach dropped. “No.” Beside him, the Reaper finally spoke, voice remaining calm despite the world collapsing around them. “Should a demon preserve that which fate has harvested… the savior shall forever carry the burden of the saved.”
Yunho’s jaw tightened. “I know.” The words came out through clenched teeth. He knew every syllable. Every consequence. He knew exactly what would happen as above them, the building gave one final, deafening groan before the entire western side began folding inward and Y/N disappeared behind a wall of collapsing concrete.
Yunho moved. His body dissolved into a violent cloud of black smoke that tore across the street faster than the eye could follow. The glamour shattered. Silver hair whipped around glossy black horns as infernal shadows exploded through the collapsing floors and he reformed inside the dying building. Concrete rained around him and steel screamed as the floor vanished beneath his feet. Then he saw her, stood frozen, trapped between the collapsing wall and the shattered windows, staring at him in complete disbelief. There was no time. He crossed the distance in a heartbeat, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against his chest.
Then everything disappeared into darkness. The building collapsed. Thousands of tons of steel and concrete crashed into themselves in an earth shaking roar, swallowing the restaurant in a cloud of dust that rolled through downtown like a tidal wave as half a block away, black smoke erupted from empty air and Yunho and Y/N stumbled onto the cracked pavement together.
Y/N’s knees nearly gave out as she clutched at the front of his jacket, coughing through the dust, every breath shaking. For several long seconds she couldn’t process what had just happened. The screams. The collapse. Tiffany. Then she looked up. Really looked and he breath caught. “Yunho?” He didn’t answer. His gaze had already lifted beyond her shoulder….
The reaper still stood untouched by dust. Untouched by chaos as she inclined her head once. “The Covenant has witnessed.”
Yunho shut his eyes and his shoulders sagged with the weight of four centuries pressing down all at once. “Fuck.” Dust rolled through the ruined street in suffocating waves, swallowing the afternoon sunlight until everything looked washed in gray. Sirens had already begun somewhere in the distance, their cries growing louder with every passing second, while the screams of survivors echoed from every direction and Y/N still clutched the front of Yunho’s jacket with trembling fingers. “Yunho?” His attention remained fixed on the reaper. The Covenant had witnessed. Four hundred years. Four hundred years of never once crossing the line. Gone. Just like that.
A sharp hiss escaped Y/N. “Ow…” She released his jacket, grabbing at her left wrist as a searing heat exploded beneath her skin. It wasn’t the sting of a cut or the ache of a bruise. It was deeper. Like molten metal had been poured directly into her veins. “What the fuck…”
Yunho’s head snapped down. “No…” The word barely left his lips before he felt it too. Not pain. Recognition. The inside of his own wrist ignited with the same infernal heat as Y/N cried out, staring in disbelief as impossibly thin black lines began spreading beneath her skin. They branched outward like living ink, twisting and weaving together with unsettling precision. But the lines didn’t stop. They curved. Folded. Connected. Until an elegant symbol slowly revealed itself.
A single black horn.
Its shape unmistakably echoed the royal horns now curling from either side of Yunho’s head. It sat over the pulse of her wrist as though it had always belonged there. “No…” Yunho whispered again as his own wrist burned brighter. He looked down just in time to watch another design emerge beneath his own skin. Not a horn. A feather. Long. Elegant. Its delicate barbs etched in the same flowing black lines that formed Y/N’s mark.
Human.
Demon.
The symbols stared back at one another from opposite wrists like two halves of the same ancient promise. Then came the runes. They spiraled outward around each mark in perfect circles, ancient infernal script carving itself into flesh with molten golden light as Y/N watched in horror. “What… what language is that?” Yunho couldn’t answer. Because he could read every word. Every single one. By blood preserved… Another rune burned itself into place. By fate denied… More appeared. Two souls… The circle completed itself.
…bound beyond death.
The final rune flared so brightly it forced both of them to shield their eyes and for one blinding heartbeat, the symbols glowed like liquid gold before the infernal script dissolved. The light vanished beneath their skin, leaving behind only the completed marks, matte black, as though they’d been tattooed there years ago. Silence enveloped them. Even the sounds of the collapsing city seemed impossibly distant as Y/N slowly lowered her wrist, staring first at the strange black horn etched over her pulse… then at Yunho.
Really looking at him for the first time since he’d pulled her from the collapsing building and her eyes traveled upward. Past the silver hair she’d spent two days thinking about. Past the face she’d convinced herself she’d never see again. Until they stopped on the glossy black horns rising from his head and her breathing caught.
She looked from the horns… to the mark on her wrist and back again. “What the hell is going on?”
Yunho didn’t answer at first. His gaze remained fixed on the horn branded into her skin, the reality of what he’d done settling over him with crushing finality. The reaper’s form was already beginning to dissolve into drifting ash, her duty complete. And before the last trace of her disappeared, Yunho heard the faint whisper of robes carried on the wind. Then… nothing. Only then did Yunho let out a slow, weary breath as his eyes finally lifted to meet Y/N’s. “The keyword…” he said quietly, a humorless smile touching the corner of his mouth despite everything….
NSFW 18+ | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
Word Count: 1.5k
CW: Mother/Daughter Incest, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome [more to come later in the series]
Pairing: Mother Gothel!Seonghwa x Rapunzel!Reader
You don't remember your life before her. And you refuse to think of your life after her. She's everything you could ever want or desire.
Mother.
Read on AO3
The days Mother was gone always passed with the same level of uncertainty. The clock ticked by, the sun rising and falling, and yet she still never returned home.
The stone was cold, smooth under your bare feet as you swept at the same floor as the countless days prior. It was the same routine. Wake up, eat breakfast—leave some on the table in case she finally returned home—sweep the floors, dust the windowsill, sit at the balcony. Waiting. Longing.
It was two weeks this time so far. Sometimes it was longer. Others it was shorter. But it felt like an eternity all the same. The days crept by, blending into each other with each one that passed. The only thing marking the passage of time was the small calendar that sat in the kitchen, but a few days you'd forgotten to cross the days off. You were losing track.
You wondered if she missed you nearly as much, if she felt that deep emptiness inside of her when you weren't by her side. There was a deep void in your chest, carved out by your own hollow loneliness. Your heart tightened at the thought of her never coming home. It was so dangerous out there, after all, there was often the chance that the last time you saw her was truly that. The last time.
Your long skirt around your legs pooled up around your calves, letting you feel the soft breeze on your toes. Your head rested against the wooden frame of the window, feet curled up under you as you stared out from the tower, watching as the grass swayed with every gust of wind. Water flowed down the side of the mountain, a small stream running just in front of the tower.
Soon. She'd return home soon—you let your hair spill out into the wind just in case, looking out, longing for her arrival. You knew when she finally arrived she'd scoop you up into her arms and kiss all your worries away. You had obeyed her every little request, making sure she had a spotless home to come back to. You looked back into the kitchen where a fresh loaf of lemon poppy seed sourdough sat on the counter—it was her favorite, and you were hoping she'd be back in time to enjoy it fresh.
The rest of the long afternoon you sat there looking longingly toward the brush, wishing her to come home, but she never did. The sun fell below the tops of the mountains in the late afternoon, meaning she wouldn't be returning home today. She never traveled in the dark.
You pulled yourself back inside, dragging your hair behind you. It flowed through the polished stones on the floor like water, following you up the stairs and into your bedroom.
You stared down at the silk nightgown you'd laid out on your bed this morning, it's lilac color nearly blending in with the white linen laid over your mattress. It was Mother's favorite. She always said she loved the way the silk wrapped around your body. She had recently purchased you more in the different colors, but she always insisted that this one was her favorite. She said she loved the way it looked against your skin. Her fingers would always so delicately adjust the straps, smoothing the fabric over your breasts and stomach. It always tickled when her fingers would ghost over the front of your breasts, a few times, you'd watch as your nipples rose against the fabric, everything visible through the thin silk and lace.
Pulling at the strings of your day dress let it loosen around your shoulders, falling to the ground and letting it pool at your feet.
You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your nude form always intrigued you. The soft curves of your chest and waist and the smooth skin that rose little bumps when you shivered in the cool air. Everything was to perfection. Just how Mother wanted it.
You slipped into the nightgown, the silk cool against your skin.
When you blew out the small candle on your bedside, the room when dark—the only light the stream of moonlight coming from the window. Your stomach rumbled as you pulled yourself into bed, but you ignored it. You could never bear to eat a dinner she didn't make. Instead you curled your arms under your pillow and hugging it tight as if it were her. You had sprayed her perfume over your sheets two days ago, and the scent still lingered. The notes of cardamom and sweet vanilla wrapped around you. It was as if you were laying on her chest. You had to imagine the rise and fall of her breaths, stroking a hand through your hair like it was her own motion.
She never slept in your bed, but when she was away for so long it helped to imagine her here in this bed. You closed your eyes and pictured her laying there under you. Her hands would card through your hair, nails scratching your scalp. She would hum that sweet song that she'd sung to you since you were a child. Her arms would wrap around you, letting you lay on her chest as you fell asleep.
And, if you were good, her hands would slip under your nightgown, up your thighs and further. It felt good. Oh, it always felt so good. Her breath would drag along your neck as she kiss you softly, lips hardly touching your skin.
"Oh my sweet little flower," she'd mutter.
You pressed your face into your pillow harder this time, begging the tears stinging behind your eyes not to fall. You weren't supposed to cry. Mother would be so upset if she found out your cried. Tears would make her upset. They would make her look down on you.
And that was a fate worse then death.
It made you sick with guilt to feel such a way. Sadness was not an emotion Mother took kindly too. And you both had worked on keeping it at bay inside of you. Sadness was a fickle and absurd emotion. There was no reason to feel it. Not when you had such a generous mother taking care of you.
Instead, you tried to distract yourself. You moved your hand away from your head, leaving your scalp and trailing down to your neck. You rolled into your back, imagining her sitting over you.
Close your eyes. You could hear her warm whispers, and your eyes fluttered closed. I love you in this color, My Flower.
Her hand would travel down the bodice, coming back up to cup your breasts. The touch was gentle and comforting, and she always followed it by a warm press of her lips to yours when you obeyed.
Sometimes her kisses would reach your neck, and she'd let her lips travel down, softly licking down your throat. You had giggled the whole time, "Mother..it tickles."
Her warm had cupped your cheek, "oh? Does it tickle? I guess you're just a little bit sensitive." You still remember the feeling, the phantoms of her lips ghosting over her skin.
This time, before she left, she had shown you something new. "My Flower?" She'd followed it with a kiss, "can we take your night dress off today?"
You'd looked at her, confused, "you…want to see my chest?"
"Yes, my sweet girl. I want to show you something special. Is that okay?"
"Yes, Mother." You didn't even question her, letting her nimble fingers undo the front lacing of your night gown. She slid it down to your waist, leaving your chest bare and exposed.
Her hands held your waist, just simply looking down at your body bare before her. You said nothing, just looking up at her expectantly.
She slid her palms up, watching carefully for your reaction. When they reached your breasts, you gasped. She squeezed them gently in her hands, laughing softly when a small wail came from your throat. "Does it feel good? Do you like mommy touching you here?"
"Yes!" she pinched your nipples, "oh, Mother. It feels so—" Another moan falls from your lips.
You tried to recreate it now just like she taught you. Make sure to do light touches, see if you can get these nipples hard without touching them fully. Your hand ghosts over your chest. And then, when they get a little hard, see if you can pinch them. It might hurt a little bit, but it's good for you.
She'd pinched and twisted them. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. You'd presses your thighs together, not failing to miss the way she'd seemed surprised by the action.
Nothing you could do matched the feeling of her hands on your skin though. Your own touch was too gentle, too predictable.
You were never going to be able to replicate that touch. It simply was unattainable. You needed Mother home before you pinched your nipples raw hoping to replicate her touch.
A frustrated huff escaped your lips as your yanked your nightdress back over your shoulders. You curled back into your sheets, face burrowed in the pillow, imagining it was her face once again.
DISCLAIMER : MDNI! This drabble in absolutely no way represents the actions or thoughts of Ateez. This is a work of pure fiction!
Hongjoong: Standing
Don't hate me but he's a busy guy. Most of the time he only has time for quickies, especially in his studio. You're both so insatiable that he can't even lay you down to properly fuck you. He will drop to his knees, throw a leg over his shoulder, and eat you out against the wall then stand abruptly and plunge himself deep inside of you. He still makes love to you on his days off but you spend a lot of time together in his studio.
Seonghwa: Missionary
It seems basic but Hwa is really big on eye contact and intimacy. He's actually very stern about you looking away. He wants to see every micro expression you make, kiss your lips and neck, and whisper dirty sweet nothings in your ear. He also loves how small and vulnerable you look under him, spread open with no shame. He loves going slow and steady to savor the feeling of your warm bodies pressed impossibly close together.
Yunho: Spooning
People compare him to a dog and/or puppy and it's not that far off in this situation. He has to physically stop himself from humping your beautiful plush thighs when you're lying in bed so he loves slipping inside you from behind while lying down, rutting against you like a dog in heat. Slow or fast, depends on your energy but no matter what he's scattering marks on your upper back and shoulder. One hand on your breast teasing your nipple, the other gently playing with your hair.
Yeosang: Chokehold
He loves to hit it from behind but he loves squeezing your head in his huge bicep more. It makes him feel a lot bigger and stronger than he already is. The goal is to completely wreck your tight hole and receive hickies on his bicep. However, his gentle nature never slips, no matter how brutally he's pounding your pussy, he constantly checks in.
San: Lotus
He has a very deep, emotional, connection with you and he hates quickies. He can wreck you sure, but he prefers to make love in the most intimate way possible. He loves having you sat on his lap (criss cross), deep inside you while your foreheads are connected and your breathing is synced. The slow grinding gives way to breathy moans and him swallowing them and he kisses you passionately.
Mingi: Cowgirl
Mingi worships your breasts so he wants to watchem bounce. Mouth all over them while his large hands switch between running up and down your spine and grabbing/slapping your ass. Don't worry, when your legs get tired that man becomes a piston.
Wooyoung: Any position he can eat you out
HES A MUNCH! He thinks about eat you out almost 24/7. He wants to throw you on every surface, in any outfit, any position, regardless of if people are around, though he does show restraint, he's the only who gets to see you in that state. He just wants to taste you and feel you convulse around his magical tongue. Bonus points: he may or may not have a tongue piercing
Jongho: Butterfly
This man wants to use your legs at ear muffs. He reaches impossibly deep inside you as he has you layed on any and every surface. Your legs thrown over his shoulders while gazing deep into your eyes. His thrusts are aggressive (however very controlled) but his simultaneous ministrations on your clit are gentle so the dual sensation shatters you.
A like, reblog, or follow is very appreciated ☺️
A/n: I definitely didn't expect my first fic/drabble to be smut😭🙏🏽 I have so much fluff in the vault but this was finished first. I hope you enjoy, have a lovely day🩷
summary: in which you have a mirror kink and your boyfriend has been driving you crazy
warning: dom yunho, sub reader, mirror sex, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, fingering, squirting, hair pulling, choking, unprotected sex, creampie
genre: smut
pairing: idol yunho x afab reader
word count: 6.4k
note: his damn mirror selcas been driving me fucking crazy!!!
mirror, mirror, mirror part two
masterlist
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Three mirror pics.
Three.
You’d been curled up on his side of the bed, scrolling while pretending you weren’t waiting for it. But the second it dropped, your soul left your body.
The first was casual, messy, he was stretched out, headphone in, wrist slung behind his neck. But it was that half lidded gaze, caught in reflection, that had your thighs pressing together. The second? A gold mirror that warped just enough to give his frame a mythic edge. Broad chest, defined arms, tight tank. Captionless. Like he knew.
And the third, God help you, the third had him fresh from a workout, damp towel tossed over his head, black tank clinging to his body, holding a protein drink with one hand and his phone in the other, snapping the mirror like it was a casual afterthought. But nothing about it was casual to you. Not when your mind immediately spiraled to the secret you’d been nursing for months. The thing you’d never told him.
You had a mirror kink. And not the shy kind. The kind where you got off at the thought watching him fuck you in one. Watching you in one. Seeing your legs shake, his body towering behind you, his eyes locked on yours through the glass. The kind of need that had grown too loud to ignore.
Especially now. With Yunho in Taiwan and your brain swimming with fantasies and zero outlet for relief, you finally gave in. That afternoon, you made a quick stop after work. You’d measured the wall a dozen times already, right across from his bed, displaying on half the wall, showcasing the bed and his gaming setup.
You took a step back, gaze flicking between the bed and the reflection. The view was perfect. Every angle visible. The way you imagined it every time he was behind you. Every time his voice got low in your ear. Every time you almost said please, let me ride you in front of a mirror.
You crawled onto the bed, settling in the very center, legs curled beneath you as you grabbed his pillow and inhaled. Your phone was still in your hand, opened to his post. That third pic staring back at you like a challenge. He had no idea what he started. But by the time he came back? You’d be ready. And the mirror would be waiting.
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The door to the apartment creaked open just past sunset, the soft clatter of rolling suitcases echoing in the quiet hallway. “Home sweet home,” Yunho mumbled, voice rough with travel exhaustion.
“Home smells like ramen and dust,” Yeosang replied behind him, kicking his shoes off without grace. “Remind me to ask Y/N if she left the window open again.”
Yunho dropped his bag by the wall, rubbing the back of his neck. Everything ached, his shoulders, his legs, even his eyelids, but the second he stepped into the familiar warmth of the apartment, the ache dulled just a bit. You weren’t there, but your presence lingered in the little ways. Your mug on the sink. Your hoodie draped over the couch arm. Your shoes kicked off by the door next to his.
“She not here?” Yeosang asked, already wandering toward his room.
“Guess not,” Yunho replied as he walked towards his bedroom, pushing his door open, expecting the usual mess, maybe your perfume lingering in the sheets, your lotion sitting half capped on his nightstand. What he didn’t expect was the massive, wall mounted mirror directly across from his bed.
He stopped mid step. Blinking. Processing. “What the fuck?” he muttered, brow furrowing as he took it in. It was sleek. Wide. Almost artistic in how perfectly it framed his bed. The sheets were freshly tucked, pillows fluffed, like you’d prepped the space with intention. The mirror’s reflection offered a full view of the mattress. From headboard to footboard. From every possible angle.
Yeosang peeked into the room, curious why Yunho hadn’t moved. Then he saw it too. “That’s new,” Yeosang said, blinking twice before gasping. “Oh my god,” He mumbled, realization creeping into his tone. “She…. she bought that. She mounted that. Dude. That’s not just a mirror, that’s a mirror. That’s a bed facing mirror.”
“I can see that,” Yunho said, voice a little hoarse now as Yeosang stepped in a little further, staring at the setup like he’d just discovered the Rosetta Stone of your sex life. “Do you think she watches? I mean, she must…. right? That’s like… prime viewing real estate. You could shoot a damn movie with this thing.”
Yunho’s brain was trying very hard not to spiral. But the mirror was right there. And now Yeosang was in his room, pointing at it like it was a conspiracy board. “Out,” Yunho muttered, pushing him toward the door.
Yeosang backed up, hands raised, grinning like he knew exactly what Yunho was imagining now. “I’m just saying… this place is looking a little less like your room and a little more like hers.”
Yunho shut the door in his face and turned back toward the mirror, exhaling slowly, rubbing his jaw. His eyes drifted to the bed. Then back to the reflection.
What the hell were you up to?
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The door clicked open just as Yeosang was halfway through complaining about how jetlag was making him see god in the form of a vending machine granola bar. The scent hit them first, something warm and spicy, the unmistakable comfort of takeout after a week of convenience store snacks and airplane food.
You stepped inside, arms full of bags and dressed in an oversized hoodie, Yunho’s, and jeans, and your expression was that same casual ease you always wore when you were about to get away with something. “I brought food,” you said, kicking the door closed behind you.
Yeosang nearly wept. “Marry me.”
You rolled your eyes and handed him the heavier bag. “Yours has double meat. Don’t say I never take care of you.”
“An angel,” he sighed, already halfway to the kitchen.
Yunho hadn’t moved. He stood just a few feet from his bedroom door, watching you like you were a puzzle he’d never solved before as you glanced over at him, giving him a soft smile. “You good?”
“Yeah,” he said, slowly. “Just… tired.”
You nodded and padded toward the kitchen, grabbing a drink from the fridge and reaching into one of the bags to pass Yunho his usual order. He took it, eyes lingering on your face. Waiting. Searching. But you didn’t say a word about the mirror. Not one comment. Not a glance toward the door. Not a sly smirk or teasing remark like you usually gave when you were baiting him.
Just… silence.
You talked with Yeosang for a few minutes, catching up on what Taiwan was like, laughing when he told you about San nearly falling off the hotel balcony trying to reach for his charging cable. You asked if they were enjoying their global thirst trap status. But even then, you didn’t mention it.
The mirror. In his room. Just existing now. As if it had always been there.
Yunho watched you closely. His brain was in a chokehold. You weren’t not being flirty. But you weren’t being obvious either. And now he didn’t know if this was just some decorating decision you made because you liked the aesthetic, or if it was something more.
Something deliberate. Something filthy.
You caught him watching you more than once, and each time you smiled like you knew exactly what he was thinking but refused to give him the satisfaction.
Later, Yeosang yawned and excused himself to bed, disappearing into his room with a wave and a promise to shower sometime next week and you turned to Yunho once it was just the two of you, your voice soft. “You okay?”
He blinked. “Yeah. Just tired. Long day.”
“Want me to leave you alone?”
“No.” He said it too fast making you tilt your head, eyes gleaming. “Okay.” Still not a word about the mirror. And Yunho? He was losing it.
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It was late. The apartment had gone quiet, save for the low hum of Yunho’s computer fan and the occasional creak of the walls settling. Yeosang had been out cold for at least an hour, snoring softly behind his closed door. You were in the shower. And Yunho hadn’t moved from his chair in twenty minutes.
He sat at his desk, bathed in the soft glow of his monitor, headphones around his neck, fingers still on the keyboard, but he wasn’t playing anything. Not really. The game on his screen had gone idle, long forgotten. Because he couldn’t stop staring.
The mirror.
That damn mirror.
It reflected everything, his bed, his window, the soft blue LED strip behind his headboard, the faint impression of your body still left in the comforter. It was perfectly angled. Clean. Precise. A visual invitation. And you hadn’t said a single word about it.
His eyes dropped to the base of the mirror again. No packaging. No tools. No struggle marks on the wall. Which meant… you hadn’t just bought it. You planned this.
Yunho leaned back in his chair slowly, his knee bouncing. He wasn’t a dumb guy. He’d been around you long enough to read between the lines, to catch the shift in your voice when you were playing coy. But this? This was another level.
And now every memory of every time he’d caught you watching him change, every time you’d slowed down when he touched you in front of a window, every time he’d snapped a selfie and you’d gone weirdly quiet after, was crawling back through his brain, tying itself to this mirror like it was the missing puzzle piece he hadn’t even known to look for.
The bathroom door opened with a faint click but he didn’t turn. He could hear you moving, bare feet padding softly down the hall, the faint rustle of fabric as you toweled off. You emerged a few moments later in one of his oversized shirts, damp hair falling over your shoulders, your skin dewy and flushed from the heat.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
Yunho didn’t move. Just spun lazily in his chair to face you. “You, uh…” He paused, nodding toward the mirror with the smallest lift of his chin. “You gonna tell me why you put that up?”
Your smile was maddeningly innocent. “Why do you think I put it up?” That. That right there. That tone. Yunho leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs just slightly, still watching you like a storm on the horizon. “You know exactly what that mirror displays.”
“Mm.” You shrugged, stepping into the doorway, the hem of his shirt brushing your bare thighs. “It’s a good angle.”
“For watching TV?” he deadpanned.
“For watching things,” you teased, not giving him more.
Yunho exhaled through his nose, laughing low and dark as he tilted his head just a little. “I post a few mirror pics while I’m gone, and suddenly you’re redecorating my room?”
“You’re assuming it was about the pics,” you said, leaning casually against the frame. “Maybe I just wanted to watch myself ride your dick.”
Yunho’s hands gripped the arms of the chair like the air had been punched out of him as you smirked. Then you stepped forward and his breath caught as you walked into the room like gravity pulled you straight to him. His thighs parted instinctively, just enough for you to climb into his lap without a word.
You settled over him slowly, one knee on either side of his hips, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Yunho’s head tilted back slightly to look up at you. His hands hovered at your waist, not touching. Not yet. “You couldn’t stop looking at it, could you?” you murmured, voice soft and close.
He shook his head once. “You planned this.”
You nodded. “Of course I did.”
He finally touched you, sliding his hands beneath the hem of the shirt, his shirt, fingers skimming the backs of your thighs as he held you in place. “You want me to fuck you in front of it?” You leaned in, lips brushing his jaw. “I want to see how wrecked I look when you make me come.”
His grip tightened and low groan escaped him, almost a warning. “You’re evil,” he breathed.
“And you,” you whispered against his ear, rocking your hips just barely over the bulge beneath you, “haven’t even seen what I look like in that mirror yet.”
Yunho was seconds away from losing it. You in his lap, your bare thighs pressed to his, your voice like silk and smoke in his ear, he was drowning in it. And the mirror only made it worse.
He could see everything. The flushed curve of your cheeks. Your hands slipping under his shirt, your body arching ever so slightly against his chest. The way you leaned in, lips grazing his jaw, whispering that filthy little promise like it was nothing. “I want to see how wrecked I look when you make me come.”
He growled under his breath and gripped the backs of your thighs, standing up without warning, lifting you against him like he needed to own the moment again. He turned, carrying you the few steps to the bed, setting you down with the kind of force that made the mattress creak and your breath hitch.
His gaze was glued to the mirror. To you. But before he could climb over you, before he could even blink, you slipped from his grasp like water through fingers. A teasing smile playing on your lips as you slid off the edge of the bed and dropped to your knees right in front of him.
Yunho froze. Completely. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror behind you. Your hands rested on his thighs now, your fingers running up the solid length of them, dragging over his sweats with slow, sinful intent as you looked up at him, blinking once, lashes heavy, voice a murmur. “Sit.”
He didn’t question it. Couldn’t. He dropped onto the bed behind him like gravity had taken over, legs spread, pupils blown wide as you sank between them and the mirror gave him everything.
Your knees pressed to the floor. The stretch of your thighs. The curve of your back. The soft rise and fall of your chest as you stared up at him like you were about to pray with your mouth open.
And God, your eyes never left his. Not in the mirror. Not in person. “You wanted to know why I put it there?” you asked, fingers already trailing up his thighs, dangerously close to where he was hard and straining beneath the thin fabric. “This is why.”
He swallowed hard, jaw clenched, chest rising with every shallow breath. “For you to watch,” you whispered, dragging his sweats down just enough, revealing the way he twitched beneath his boxers. “Every second. Every reaction. Every time I ruin you.”
Yunho let his head fall back for half a second before jerking it forward again, eyes locking with the mirror, then with you as you smirked, hooking your fingers under the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down slowly, dragging your lips along the crease of his thigh. “Eyes up, baby,” you purred.
And when your mouth finally closed around him, slow, warm, devastating, Yunho’s body jolted on the mattress, his hands flying to grip anything, tangling in the sheets like they were the only things anchoring him to the planet.
The only sound in the room was the wet drag of your mouth, his breath stuttering, and the distant creak of the mattress as he fought the urge to thrust into your throat.
Yunho hissed as you pulled back and licked a stripe from the base of him to the tip, your tongue flattening against the underside before circling the swollen head. You tasted him like he was a treat you planned to savor, letting your lips wrap around just the top at first, eyes locked on his through the mirror.
He gripped the sheets, knuckles white as you went lower. Your mouth stretched over him inch by inch again, your pace unhurried, deliberate, like you wanted him to lose his mind one second at a time. He watched your cheeks hollow as you took him deeper, your hand wrapping around what didn’t fit, stroking in time with the slow drag of your mouth.
“F… fuck,” Yunho breathed, his head tipping back for a second before snapping forward again, like he couldn’t bear to miss a moment. The mirror gave him the full view. His dick sliding past your lips, disappearing into your mouth. Your hand stroking in time with each bob of your head. The way your spit slicked him, catching the light, shining as it dripped down your chin.
And you looked like you were in heaven. You moaned softly around him, the vibration making him jolt, his thighs twitching under your hands. “You’re fucking evil,” he groaned as you pulled off with a soft pop, eyes never leaving his. “I’m just getting started.”
Then you sank down again, deeper this time, your throat tightening around him, swallowing him slow as your hand worked the base. Your tongue flattened along the underside, and Yunho swore under his breath, hips lifting just slightly before he caught himself. But you felt it. Saw it. Loved it. So you did it again.
Over and over. Slower. Wetter. More intentional. You sucked him like you wanted to ruin him with your mouth alone. And Yunho watched it all. Watched the way your throat bulged. Watched your fingers flex against his thighs. Watched his own dick disappear between your lips and come back out coated in spit. “You’re gonna make me come,” he warned, voice ragged.
You pulled back again, dragging your tongue along the tip, eyes dark with something wicked. And then you sank down again, letting him hit the back of your throat, holding him there just long enough to make him curse under his breath before easing off again.
Your moans were soft now, vibrations teasing along the underside of Yunho’s dick, your throat wrapping around him like silk. But the longer you sucked him, the deeper you moaned, knowing what it did to him. You wanted him to feel it. To watch it. And he did. Every filthy second reflected right back at him.
He wasn’t just close, he was spiraling. And then you moaned again, low, needy, full of want and Yunho’s grip snapped. He growled, deep and sharp, and his hand shot down, threading into your hair. In one smooth motion, he pulled you off his dick, your lips releasing him with a gasp as you blinked up at him, breathless.
“Get the fuck up here,” he ordered, voice low and wrecked. You didn’t resist, not even for a second as he pulled you up, mouth crashing into yours before your knees even hit the bed. His tongue swept in, tasting himself on your lips, swallowing the little moan you let out against his mouth. You barely had time to breathe before he was dragging you higher onto the mattress, pushing you down.
Yunho hovered over you, chest heaving, his eyes flicking toward the mirror once again, and it changed everything. He saw the outline of you beneath him. The way your thighs parted instinctively. The way your shirt rode up when you shifted your hips just the slightest bit, silently begging. He looked back down at you, lips curling. “Take it off.”
The oversized shirt came up and over your head in one slow pull, baring your chest to him completely. You tossed it aside, eyes locked on his like a challenge, your breathing shallow, nipples already tight from the cool air and the heat between your thighs.
Yunho’s mouth parted. “Fuck,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. Then he leaned in. His lips brushed your collarbone first, slow, reverent. Then lower, teeth grazing just beneath your breast before his mouth wrapped around one nipple, sucking softly. He moved down your body like he was worshipping it, tongue dragging across your skin, hands pinning your hips when you squirmed.
You felt him everywhere. The way his hair tickled your stomach, the heat of his mouth trailing down your ribs, the press of his dick still wet against your thigh where it propped out his sweats. And in the mirror, you could see it all.
Yunho glanced up at your reflection again as he kissed just below your navel. His voice came low, thick with lust. “You’re gonna watch me make you come, baby,” he whispered, teeth nipping the skin above the waistband of your panties. “Every. Fucking. Time.”
You whimpered as his fingers hooked under the band of your panties, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving yours in the mirror and you spread your legs wider and he pulled them down your legs in one slow, lingering drag. You felt the air hit you, cool and teasing, and the way his pupils blew wide at the sight made your stomach flip.
He tossed the panties aside without even looking, his hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, warm and steady, spreading you open for him. And when he saw how wet you already were, slick, swollen, needy, he sucked in a breath through his teeth. “All that,” he murmured, brushing one knuckle along your folds, “from sucking my dick?”
Your breath hitched. But he didn’t wait for your answer. He climbed lower, shoulders settling between your thighs like he belonged there, palms braced on either side of your hips. Then one of his hands began sliding up, up your stomach, over your ribs, between your breasts, until he wrapped his fingers lightly around your upper torso, holding you in place. “Keep your legs open,” he said quietly.
And then he buried his mouth in you. His tongue thrust into you immediately, hot, deep, hungry, making your back arch off the bed with a shocked, broken sound. His grip tightened gently on your upper body, holding you down, keeping you open as he fucked you with his tongue like he’d been starved for you.
Your hand flew to his hair, fingers tangling desperately. “Y… Yunho!” He groaned into you, the vibration shooting straight through your core, making your hips jerk upward, only for his other hand to press your thigh down, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
In the mirror, you saw everything. His broad shoulders between your legs, the slow roll of his head as he licked deeper, the obscene way your hips trembled with every thrust of his tongue. Your own expression, lips parted, eyes glazed, chest rising unevenly, reflected back at you like you were watching a scene you weren’t meant to see.
He pulled back just enough to drag his tongue from your entrance all the way to your clit, lips closing around it in a soft suck before he spoke again, breath warm against your skin. “Look,” he commanded.
You forced your eyes open and met the reflection again. “I said look,” he repeated, voice darker, dragging his tongue through you again, slower this time. “I want you to see what you look like when you fall apart for me.” Then he thrust his tongue into you again, harder. Deeper. His hand tightening on your torso to keep you from writhing out of reach as he devoured you like he couldn’t breathe unless he was inside you.
Your moan was raw, your thighs trembling around him. “Good,” he murmured, tongue flicking in hard, deliberate strokes. “Let it happen.” And you did. God, you did. You came with a choked sob, legs shaking.
You barely had time to breathe, core pulsing from the orgasm Yunho had just coaxed out of you with his tongue, his mouth glistening, jaw flexing as he looked up from between your thighs like he’d just claimed you. And then he was moving. Crawling up your body, dragging his lips over your skin, slow and unrelenting.
He kissed the inside of your thigh. Your hip. The curve of your waist. He licked a stripe between your breasts and bit your collarbone with a low groan like he needed to taste every part of you after what he’d just done. His mouth hovered at your ear. “You watched yourself come,” he whispered, voice deep and rough. “But now it’s my turn.”
You didn’t understand what he meant at first, not until he grabbed your thighs, flipped you gently, and pulled you up with him, dragging you into his lap as he sat in the middle of the bed, strong legs spread and your back flush to his chest.
He adjusted you like he’d done it a hundred times, your thighs over his, your arms resting over his, your whole body splayed wide and open in front of the mirror.
The reflection hit hard.
You, completely bare. Your legs spread across his. Your lips swollen, skin flushed, nipples hard from the cool air and his touch. And Yunho, shirtless now, sweatpants pushed low, chest rising slow as his dark eyes took in the image of the two of you tangled together.
“Look at you,” he murmured against your ear, voice thick with awe and filth. “You look like a fucking dream.” You shivered, then you felt it. His hand sliding down, slow and steady, fingertips brushing the sensitive spot between your thighs. You were still so wet, your body reacting to the reflection, to his voice, to the weight of his chest at your back and the sharp press of his dick beneath you.
“Keep watching,” he whispered. And then he slipped two fingers inside you making cry out, head falling back against his shoulder as he sank in deep, his fingers immediately curling, knowing exactly how to touch you.
“Yunho!”
“Eyes on the mirror,” he reminded you, lips brushing your temple. “I want you to see how perfect you are when I fuck you with my fingers.”
You forced your eyes open. And oh god. Watching it was so much worse. So much better. His hand between your thighs. His fingers thrusting into you, slow and filthy, wet sounds echoing in the quiet room. Your legs twitching, your body trembling against his. And Yunho’s other hand slid up your stomach again. Palming one breast, teasing your nipple, holding you still against his chest like he was presenting you to your own reflection.
“You wanted this mirror?” he rasped, thrusting his fingers deeper. “Then you’re gonna use it.” Your hips bucked as he groaned, breath catching in your ear. “Yeah, that’s it. Watch how you take me. Watch your legs spread, your pussy dripping, your mouth open like you’re already begging.”
“I… I’m not…”
“Yes, you are,” he growled. “Look at you.”
And fuck, you were. A mess. Beautiful. Flushed. Drenched. On display, in his lap, being slowly ruined by his hand and his voice and the reflection of your own unraveling.
And Yunho? He was barely holding on. Because now he knew. This wasn’t just your kink anymore. This mirror had made him feral for you. “Just like that,” Yunho whispered, fingers thrusting deeper, rougher now. “Fuck, you’re so wet… listen to that.”
You could hear it. The wet, filthy sounds of his fingers pumping into you, echoing in the quiet room like a soundtrack to your unraveling. Your hips twitched, thighs trembling where they were stretched open across his, your back arching against his chest. His arm was locked around your middle, holding you still while he worked you with the other.
The mirror in front of you was a goddamn crime scene. Your body splayed out like a fantasy, your legs spread and twitching, your chest heaving, your head thrown back on his shoulder as his hand disappeared between your thighs again and again. “Keep watching,” Yunho growled, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “You wanted this. Look how pretty you look coming undone for me.”
Your moan cracked in your throat as he curled his fingers just right and you screamed, a high, wrecked sound as your back bowed and your walls clamped around him. “That’s it,” he gasped, voice laced with awe. “Right there, baby, come for me. Give it to me. Let it out.” And you did. Your orgasm hit hard, a sharp, blinding wave that exploded from your core and tore through your whole body. You sobbed out his name as your thighs snapped closed around his hand, your hips jerking uncontrollably.
Your body tensed, your stomach clenched, and a hot gush of wetness spilled out around his fingers, soaking his hand and his lap and the sheets beneath you. “Holy fuck,” Yunho choked out as you squirted, crying out, overstimulated and wrecked, your head spinning as pleasure rolled through you so violently you could barely stay upright and your legs wouldn’t stop shaking.
Yunho didn’t stop. He slowed, barely, still thrusting his fingers, still curling them just right, watching the way your body jolted, helpless in his lap. “Look,” he groaned, his voice completely wrecked, breath hot in your ear. “Look what you did.” You forced your blurry eyes open and the mirror showed you everything.
Your thighs twitching, glistening and wet. Yunho’s soaked fingers slipping out of your still clenching pussy. Your lips parted, eyes glassy, chest covered in sweat. The way you trembled in his lap, absolutely ruined. You whimpered, body limp now, too sensitive to even move.
Yunho pressed a soft kiss to your temple, hand sliding gently down your thigh, soothing now. “You okay, baby?” he murmured, holding you close. You nodded, still trembling. But then your fingers curled around his thigh. And he froze.
You lifted your head, slow and steady, turning in his lap until you were straddling him. His eyes searched yours, mouth parted, completely unprepared for the shift in your energy. Your voice was low, wrecked, commanding.
“Lay back.”
Yunho obeyed instantly, breath catching in his throat as you pushed gently on his chest until he leaned back against the pillows, sitting at the center of the bed, body tense with anticipation as you reached down, fingers tugging at the waistband of his sweats and briefs, dragging them all the way down, off this time, until he was fully bare beneath you, dick hard and flushed, glistening from the earlier attention you gave him with your mouth.
His eyes flicked to the mirror, then back to you as you climbed into his lap again, knees planted on either side of his hips, your soaked core hovering just above his dick. One hand wrapped around the base of him, lining him up as you leaned forward, your other hand sliding up his chest, past his neck, until it curled around his jaw. “Look at the mirror,” you said, voice thick with heat. “Don’t look at me.”
Yunho groaned low in his throat, muscles tightening. But he did as he was told. His eyes snapped to the mirror just as you began to sink down, slow, agonizingly slow, the stretch so perfect it knocked the breath from both of you. “Fuck,” he hissed, his head pressing back into the pillows, fingers digging into the sheets.
You kept your hand on his face, fingers holding his jaw firm. “I said don’t look away.” In the mirror, you were everything. Hair messy, skin flushed, legs spread as you straddled him, his dick disappearing inside you inch by inch. Your mouth parted in a silent moan, your hips rocking as you took all of him, slow and steady, until you were fully seated, stuffed so deep you swore you could feel him in your ribs.
“Look at me,” you whispered again, but you meant the mirror. And he did. Eyes wide, blown out, glued to the reflection of your body claiming his as you started to move, a slow roll of your hips that made both of you shudder. His hands came up to your waist, gripping tightly, but he didn’t guide you, he couldn’t. He was too busy watching.
“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, voice wrecked. “You like watching yourself disappear inside me?” He moaned, eyes fluttering shut, only for you to grab his chin again. “Open,” you demanded. “Watch me ride you.”
His eyes snapped open as you started to ride him in earnest. Long, deep rolls of your hips. The slick sound of your bodies meeting again and again. His dick sliding in and out of your soaked pussy while the mirror showed everything in perfect, obscene clarity.
You.
In control.
Taking him.
Milking him.
And Yunho couldn’t look away if he tried as your hips snapped down, again and again, thighs burning as you rode him hard, faster now, rougher, your wet heat sucking him back in every time he tried to breathe. The slap of your skin echoed through the room, filthy and relentless, but it was the mirror that made it obscene.
Yunho’s eyes were locked on it. Watching your body bounce in his lap, your tits moving with every grind, your slick dripping down the length of him. Watching your mouth hang open, sweat shine on your skin, his dick disappearing inside you over and over.
You were feral. Hair sticking to your neck. Legs trembling. Pleasure curling up your spine like fire as you used him for everything he had. “Fuck, baby…” he groaned, hands gripping your hips now, harder, holding you down when you tried to rise. “You’re gonna make me come.”
You smirked through a breathless moan, clenching around him just to prove a point. “Good.”
And that was it. His restraint snapped like a rubber band. With a growl, Yunho surged upward, grabbing you tight and flipping you over in one fast, fluid motion. You yelped as your back hit the bed, then gasped when he grabbed your thighs and dragged you down, down until your knees hung over the edge and your feet touched the floor.
The mirror was right there. And now you were facing it as Yunho shoved your back down, chest to the mattress, one hand on your lower back, the other dragging down your spine in a slow, heavy stroke. “Look at yourself,” he growled.
You barely managed to lift your head, and what you saw made your breath catch. You. Bent over. Legs parted. Dripping. Yunho behind you, broad and flushed, his dick hard and glistening with your slick as he lined himself up again.
He didn’t give you time to beg as he slammed back into you. You screamed, choked on your own moan, as he filled you all at once, deeper now, the angle brutal and perfect. His hands gripped your hips like he was hanging on for dear life as he began to thrust, fast, hard, his body slapping against your ass with every snap of his hips.
The mirror turned it into a show. You watched yourself bounce forward with every thrust. Watched his hips slam into yours. Watched your mouth open, your body tremble, your knuckles clutching the sheets.
“Fuck, fuck…. look at that,” Yunho gasped, eyes flicking between your reflection and the curve of your spine beneath him. “You see that? That’s mine.” He grabbed your hair, pulled just enough to arch your back harder, to force your eyes back to the mirror. “You see how good you take me?” he panted. “How wet you are? You’re dripping, baby. All over me.”
You whimpered, too wrecked to speak. And still, he kept fucking into you, deep, punishing, relentless. Your body jolted forward with every snap of his hips, bent over and soaked, your legs shaking, breath catching in your throat, but you kept your eyes on the mirror. You couldn’t look away.
Neither could he.
“Look at you,” he growled, voice low, gravel in your ear. “You see that? That’s your pussy taking all of me, dripping around me. So fucking pretty, baby.” You whined, back arching as his hand slid up your stomach, over your breast, to your throat, gripping gently, just enough to hold, to claim, to feel the pulse of you coming undone in his hands.
Your back slammed against his chest as he pulled you up, his thighs braced wide beneath yours, his dick still buried inside you as he bent his knees and started pounding up into you. Hard. Deep. Devastating.
You screamed, pure, broken sound, as he kept one hand around your throat and the other locked tight on your hip, holding you wide open on him, forcing you to stay there and take every brutal thrust. “Eyes on the fucking mirror,” he snarled, his lips brushing your ear. “You see that? You see what you do to me?”
You were gasping, moaning, body twitching violently as the new angle hit everything at once. “You feel that?” he growled again, voice soaked in filth. “Feel how deep I am? That’s your pussy choking my dick. So tight, so fucking good. You were made to be fucked like this.”
Your mouth fell open, a sob slipping free.
“Watch yourself,” he whispered. “Watch your face. You’re about to come again, aren’t you?” You nodded, helpless.
“Say it.”
“I… I’m gonna come…..”
“Louder.”
“I’m gonna… fuck…. I’m gonna come!”
And then your whole body snapped. Your thighs clamped down. Your core seized around him. And your orgasm ripped through you like a tidal wave. You screamed, legs trembling violently as hot wetness gushed out of you, your pussy spasming hard around his dick, soaking his thighs, the bed, the sheets….
“Fuck yes,” Yunho hissed, both arms suddenly wrapping around your waist, pinning you to him, his pace going ragged and brutal as you kept squirting, kept clenching, kept gasping his name like a prayer.
He held you there, locked in place as he slammed up into you again and again, chasing his own edge now. “Mine,” he groaned, voice nearly unrecognizable. “You’re mine, baby… fuck…. fuck… mine!”
And then with a deep, guttural sound, Yunho buried himself to the hilt, arms wrapped around your trembling body as he came hard. You felt it. The heat. The twitch. The full body shake as he pulsed inside you, holding you tight, like he never wanted to let you go.
Both of you staring at the mirror.
Both of you ruined.
His breath stuttered against your shoulder, chest rising and falling like he’d just run for his life. He kissed your neck. “You’re never taking that mirror down,” he whispered.
You smiled, wrecked, still in his lap, his dick still buried deep.
You’ve never asked him to choose you out loud. You assumed he would anyway. Until today, when someone else mistakes you for something temporary, and you decide to stop being patient and start being seen.
Pairing: Dom!Yunho x Brat!Reader
Tropes: Age-gap (40/mid-20s) Established Relationship. High Society Romance.
Genre: Smut. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff.
Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!yunho, public sexual activity, power dynamics, spanking, dirty talk, sexual humiliation elements, unprotected sex, heel play, objectification, orgasm denial, impact play, degradation, exhibitionism, emotional vulnerability, crying, possessive behavior, jealousy, insecurity, emotional distress, miscommunication, perceived emotional neglect, relationship insecurity, fear of public perception, age-gap relationship, explicit language,
Word Count: 9.3k
a/n: i need everyone to know that i don't even like feet. at all. so naturally i wrote almost 10k words where they're basically a supporting character. and the whiplash of going from writing sub mingi to dom yunho should honestly be enough to give anyone a headache.
based on [this] request
masterlist
Yunho still believes in dating you. Not because the relationship needs saving. Not because he thinks grand gestures are the secret to lasting love. He simply refuses to let the person he loves become someone he only sees between meetings.
Which is how you end up here. The restaurant glows with warm amber light reflected across crystal glasses and polished cutlery. Conversations dissolve beneath soft piano music, waiters glide silently between tables, and every detail, from the pressed linen to the wine list, whispers the kind of quiet luxury people spend weeks trying to reserve.
Yunho booked it the moment he found an evening that belonged to neither work nor obligation. Not because it's exclusive. Because he missed you.
Across the table, you shift for what must be the third time since sitting down. His eyes flick briefly beneath the table before returning to your face.
"The shoes?"
You sigh dramatically. "They're trying to kill me."
"They look beautiful."
"They're weapons."
"They're beautiful weapons."
You can't help smiling.
"You say that because you're not the one wearing them."
"No." His gaze lingers for just a heartbeat longer than necessary, warm enough to make your cheeks threaten a blush. "I'm the one who gets to look at them."
You shake your head, hiding your smile behind your wine glass.
The conversation slips easily into familiar territory after that. His latest project. Your week. A trip the two of you keep promising to plan and never quite finding the time for.
Somewhere in the middle, you mention a singer that's apparently impossible to escape these days.
Yunho frowns thoughtfully.
"I've never heard of them."
You look at him over the rim of your glass.
"You're making your age very obvious tonight."
"I've spent forty years carefully building that privilege."
"You could at least pretend to know."
"I could." A beat. "I'd rather have you explain it."
You laugh quietly, shaking your head.
"You're impossible."
"So I've been told."
There's something wonderfully unfair about the way he says it. Completely unbothered. Never defensive. Never trying to convince you he's younger than he is. He wears the years between you with the same quiet confidence he wears one of his tailored suits, as though neither has ever occurred to him as something needing justification.
You tease him because it's easy. He lets you because he likes the sound of your laugh.
By the time your starters appear, you've somehow moved from music to books to the strange corners of the internet that never seem to find their way onto Yunho's phone.
He only understands about half of what you're talking about. You know because he tells you. And yet he never stops listening. His attention never wanders.
Every now and then, you catch him looking at you over the candle between you. Not saying anything. Just watching with that quiet, unwavering fondness that has always belonged to the two of you.
It never feels like being observed. It feels like coming home.
The interruption slips so easily into the evening that, at first, you don't think anything of it.
"Yunho?"
He looks up.
For the first time all night, surprise brightens his face before settling into a smile you haven't seen since you walked into the restaurant.
"...Wow." He stands almost instinctively. "It's been years."
She laughs as she steps closer, arms already opening. Yunho returns the hug without hesitation, one hand resting briefly against the middle of her back before they separate again. Easy. Familiar. The kind of greeting that belongs to people who've crossed paths enough times for formality to disappear.
"You look exactly the same."
"So do you."
"No chance."
"I've become a much better liar."
He laughs, and something inside you softens.
Of course he knows people. He's spent twenty years building a career that seems to exist somewhere between boardrooms, charity galas and airports. It would be stranger if old acquaintances didn't recognize him.
She fits naturally into that world. Elegant dress. Confident smile. Around his age. The sort of woman who never looks intimidated by expensive restaurants because she's been having dinners like these for years.
They fall into conversation without effort. Fundraisers. Old colleagues. Someone retiring. Someone getting married. Names you've never heard and places you've never been.
You let yourself fade into the background for a while, content to listen. You know Yunho likes introducing people properly rather than interrupting conversations halfway through. He'll get there.
"I haven't seen you at anything lately," she says eventually.
"I've been hiding."
"Still?"
He smiles.
"Work."
She shakes her head, pretending to be disappointed.
"What a shame."
There's something in the way she says it that makes you glance up. Not inappropriate. Just interested. Interested enough that, without realizing it, you find yourself waiting.
Surely now. Surely this is where Yunho smiles, reaches across the table, brushes his fingers against yours and says the simplest sentence in the world.
I'm here with my girlfriend.
He doesn't. Instead, he answers whatever she'd asked next, completely unaware that you've stopped following the conversation.
You tell yourself not to be ridiculous. He's just being polite. Another minute passes. She laughs again.
"So you finally found a reason to leave the office?"
"I try."
"I was beginning to think you'd married your work."
"I've considered divorcing it."
She laughs harder than the joke deserves. You smile politely. Still waiting. Still giving him the chance. Then, almost as an afterthought, she turns to you.
"And you?"
You blink. "Sorry?"
"What do you do?"
You answer, and she listens with genuine interest. She asks about your work, compliments it, tells you it's impressive.
For one brief moment, the knot inside your chest loosens. Then she looks back at Yunho.
"You've always had good taste." He raises an eyebrow. "In people," she clarifies with a smile. "You always surround yourself with interesting company."
Yunho nods once.
"I've been lucky."
Lucky. That's all. No glance toward you. No quiet smile that says she's mine. No effortless correction. Nothing.
The conversation moves on, but something inside you doesn't. Because the awful part isn't that she's flirting. The awful part is that she has absolutely no reason not to. She's speaking to a man she believes is single. And the only person who could have told her otherwise keeps choosing not to.
When she finally excuses herself, her fingers brush lightly over his sleeve.
"You should come to the gala next month."
"We'll see."
"I'd love to catch up properly."
Her smile lingers for a heartbeat longer before she disappears into the restaurant. Yunho watches her leave with the absent familiarity of someone remembering an old colleague. Then he sits back down, reaches for his wine and smiles to himself.
"She's exactly the same as she was ten years ago."
"Mhm."
You smile because smiling costs less than speaking. Because saying what you're actually thinking would ruin the evening.
"As I was saying..." He settles back into his chair, picking up the conversation exactly where he'd left it. "The board wants to move the launch to September, which makes absolutely no sense because we'd have to renegotiate every supplier."
His voice fades into the background. You hear it. You just aren't listening anymore. Not really. You're still sitting at the same table as him, but your mind is trapped five minutes in the past, replaying every smile, every laugh, every opportunity he had to choose you out loud. All you can think is how easy it would've been. One sentence. One look. One absentminded reach for your hand.
Anything that said she's with me. Instead, for ten long minutes, you felt like the centerpiece on the table. Beautiful. Expensive. And entirely decorative. Less like the woman sharing dinner with him and more like someone who happened to be sitting at his table.
"That's nice."
Yunho pauses. He mistakes the tightness in your voice for exhaustion. Or maybe he notices it and decides to give you space. Either way, he lets it pass.
"I wouldn't call it nice."
You blink, as though you've only just remembered he's speaking. "What?"
"I asked what you thought."
You shrug lightly. "I think you should do whatever makes you happy."
His brows knit together.
"Dove."
"Hm?"
"I stopped talking about work a while ago."
"Oh." You take another sip of wine, buying yourself a second. "I must've missed it."
His eyes stay on you. Long enough that you almost think he's going to ask what's wrong. Long enough that a tiny, hopeful part of you waits for him to.
Instead, a waiter stops beside the table. Perfect. This is the moment you decide you’re done being mature. Which is unfortunate. Because you’re usually very good at it.
You look up with a smile so bright it surprises even you.
"Sorry," you say, almost apologetically. "Can I ask you something?"
He's young. Pretty in the effortless way university students always seem to be.
You ask about the desserts. Then whether the cocktails are actually worth ordering. Then which dish he likes best.
He answers easily. You laugh at one of his jokes. It isn't even that funny.
Yunho watches the exchange in silence. Not because there's anything inappropriate about it. Because there isn't. Which somehow makes the knot in your chest tighten even more. You're doing exactly what he did. Being polite. Being friendly. Nothing more.
When the waiter finally excuses himself, Yunho doesn't say anything straight away. He waits until the young man disappears around the corner. Only then does he look at you.
"What was that?"
You tilt your head. "What was what?"
"You've asked him more questions in two minutes than you've asked me all night."
"I was being polite."
"You were interviewing him."
"He seemed nice."
"I'm sure he did."
You smile into your glass. "I liked his smile."
Silence. You don't need to look up to feel his eyes on you. When you finally do, his expression has changed almost imperceptibly. Not jealousy. Confusion.
"You liked his smile."
"It was a nice smile."
He studies you for a long moment. Like he's waiting for the punchline. Like he's convinced this version of you can't possibly be real. Eventually he shakes his head, choosing not to take the bait.
"So..." he tries again, "I was thinking maybe we could..."
You pick up your phone. His voice stops. You unlock it. Scroll. You couldn't say what you're looking at if someone asked. The screen is just somewhere else to put your eyes.
"Dove."
"Hm?"
"Put the phone away."
"Why?"
His patience holds. Barely.
"Because I'm talking to you."
You don't look up. "So?"
The word hangs there. Small. Careless. Sharp enough to cut.
"So..." He exhales slowly, choosing every word with visible effort. "I'd appreciate it if you listened."
You laugh quietly. "I listened to her."
Silence. Real silence. The kind that empties the space around it.
"...What?"
You finally meet his eyes. "I listened very politely."
Something flickers across his face. Not understanding. Recognition.
"You've been upset ever since she left."
"I'm not upset."
"No?"
"No."
"You've barely looked at me."
"I've looked at you loads."
You punctuate the sentence by stealing a bite from his plate. Not because you're hungry. Because it's his. Because you know he'll stop you.
His fingers close gently around your wrist before your fork reaches the food. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to make you stop. He looks down at your hand. Then back at you.
"...Really?"
You smile with infuriating sweetness. "I wanted to know if yours tasted better."
"You ordered the exact same thing."
"It does."
"Dove..."
"It tastes different."
"It's the same recipe."
"It isn't."
"It objectively is."
"It isn't to me."
He lets go of your wrist with a slow breath, rubbing a hand across his mouth as though he's physically trying to hold onto the last thread of his patience.
"You are being impossible."
"I'm eating dinner."
"No." His eyes don't leave yours. "You're trying to punish me."
The words catch you off guard. For just a second. Long enough for him to notice.
"I haven't argued with you once," you say quietly.
"You don't have to." His voice drops lower. "You've spent the last fifteen minutes trying to make me feel something."
You force another smile.
"What exactly am I trying to make you feel?"
"I don't know." There's frustration there now. Real frustration. "That's the problem."
He leans back, studying you with the same expression he wears when something at work refuses to make sense. Like he's looking at all the pieces and none of them fit.
"I know you." His voice softens despite himself. "This..." His eyes search yours. "...isn't you."
Something twists painfully inside your chest. You could tell him. You could end this right now. You could say, You made me feel invisible. Instead, you swallow it. Smile. Tilt your head.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
And for the first time all evening, Yunho stops trying to continue the conversation. Because whatever happened to the woman he walked into this restaurant with, he has no idea how to reach her anymore.
You know you're being unfair. You know this isn't you. But the version of yourself that spent the last ten minutes feeling invisible is louder than the one who usually knows better.
You just want him to look at you.
You casually drop your napkin and bend down to retrieve it, taking just a second longer than necessary to adjust the strap of your heel. When you straighten again, Yunho is already looking at you.
"Something wrong?" you ask, all innocent eyes.
"Nothing," he replies, a little too quickly.
"Hm."
You smooth your napkin back across your lap as though you've finally decided to behave. Yunho almost believes it. Then you reach for the dessert menu.
"I think I'm getting dessert."
"We haven't finished dinner."
"I like planning ahead." Your finger drifts lazily down the list before you smile to yourself. "This one sounds nice."
Yunho doesn't even look.
"What one?"
"The vanilla mille-feuille." You tilt the menu toward yourself. "I've heard the chef is very generous with the cream."
His fork stops halfway to his mouth.
"Dove."
"What?" You glance up. "I like cream."
His jaw flexes. "You know exactly what you're doing."
"I do?" Your eyebrows lift with practiced innocence. "I'm ordering dessert."
"You haven't ordered anything."
"I'm thinking about it."
His jaw tightens.
"Think about something else."
You hum as though you're genuinely considering the suggestion.
For a heartbeat, neither of you speaks. Around you, cutlery clinks against porcelain, conversations drift lazily through the restaurant, and somewhere a bottle of wine is uncorked.
Only your table feels painfully quiet. You smile into the menu.
"I just want something sweet."
His eyes finally meet yours. "You are testing my patience."
"No." You lower the menu carefully. "I'm participating in the conversation."
"Dove."
"You said I wasn't talking enough."
"I also said to behave."
"I am."
"You've never looked less convincing."
The corner of your mouth twitches.
"Really?" you say with a shrug, crossing your legs slowly under the table, letting your foot brush against his calf. "I'm just enjoying dinner."
His breath hitches at the contact, and he pulls his leg away slightly. "Don't."
"Don't what?" you ask, voice dropping to a whisper as you lean closer. "Don't touch you? Don't talk about dessert? Don't breathe?"
"You're playing games," he accuses, but his voice has lost some of its edge.
"I'm just being myself," you reply with a small smile, tracing patterns on the tablecloth with your finger. "Unless you'd prefer I be more like her?"
Yunho's jaw tightens at the mention of the other woman. "That's not what I said."
"Then what did you mean?" you challenge, your foot finding his leg again and staying there this time.
For the first time that evening, something flashes across Yunho's face. Not anger. Not yet. Impatience. The kind that only exists because he cares enough to keep trying. And somehow, that only makes some childish, wounded part of you decide that's still not enough.
You let your other foot join the first, the expensive Louboutins he bought you last month now hidden under the tablecloth. The ones he always says make your legs look endless. The ones he loves seeing you in when he's buried inside you.
"Dove," he warns, his voice tight.
"Yunho," you mimic, your voice syrupy sweet as you apply more pressure with your foot. "Problem?"
Your pointed toe traces the seam of his trousers until you reach his balls. You press gently, just enough to make him shift in his seat. His knuckles turn white on his fork, but he doesn't look away from you.
Yunho keeps acting as if everything is normal. But his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. He has a thing for your heels, always has. The way they look on you, the sound they make on marble floors, the marks they sometimes leave on his thighs when you're riding him.
"Behave," he grunts under his breath.
You blink innocently. "I am behaving."
His eyes darken. "No, you're not."
You smirk slightly. "Don't you like it?"
Yunho doesn't push. Not yet. Because you’re in public. Because he trusts you. Because he likes it when you want him. Because maybe you're just having fun. And god help him, because his dick is already responding to your touches.
"Remember when you fucked me in these?" you whisper, leaning forward. "How you said they should've been illegal?"
Yunho remembers. He also remembers paying for them. Looking back, he should've left them in the shop.
He grows increasingly tense. Because this isn't you. Because something is wrong. Because you’re choosing a spectacularly inconvenient time to express it. And because despite his concern, he's getting painfully hard.
Then you cross the line. Not maliciously. Desperately, your foot travels higher, the pointed toe now rubbing against his length. You can feel him twitch and grow under your touch. His jaw clenches, but he doesn't look away from you. He's trying to win this silent battle, trying to pretend you're not affecting him.
"Stop," he mouths, his eyes dark with fury and arousal.
You just smile, rubbing your foot against him in slow, torturous circles. "Make me."
His hand shoots out under the table, fingers wrapping around your ankle in a grip that's both punishing and possessive.
"Enough," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You need to stop."
His voice is low enough that nobody else hears it. You do.
The hand around your ankle loosens almost immediately, his fingers sliding away as though he's only just realized how tightly he'd been holding you. The warmth of his palm lingers against your skin for a second longer than the touch itself.
Neither of you moves. Neither of you says anything. The restaurant keeps existing around you. Glasses clink. Someone laughs two tables over. A waiter walks past carrying a bottle of wine as if the world hasn't just tilted on its axis.
Yunho looks at you. His breathing is uneven. His jaw is locked so tightly you can see the muscle jump beneath his skin. There is still frustration written all over his face, but underneath it, buried somewhere deeper, is something that twists painfully in your chest.
Worry. Not embarrassment. Not annoyance. Worry.
He pushes his chair back.
"Come with me."
You don't answer. He leans down instead, close enough that only you can hear him.
"Now."
The word isn't loud. It doesn't need to be. Yunho has never raised his voice at you. He doesn't have to.
You stand without another argument. His hand finds your wrist first, then slips lower until it settles against the small of your back, guiding you through the restaurant with a firmness you've never felt from him before. Every step keeps you tucked against his side.
The walk feels endless. Your heels catch against the polished floor more than once, forcing you to stumble to keep up with his pace. Usually he'd notice. Usually he'd slow down immediately, his hand tightening instinctively around yours before asking if your feet hurt.
Tonight he doesn't. Not because he doesn't care. Because his mind is somewhere else entirely.
"What were you thinking?"
His voice is quiet. Controlled. Which somehow makes it worse.
You swallow. "I don't know."
A humorless laugh escapes him through his nose.
"Clearly."
The word lands harder than if he'd shouted. You flinch.
The bathroom door clicks shut behind you, sealing away the music, the conversations, the comfortable illusion that tonight had started as a date.
Silence settles immediately.
Yunho turns to face you. His tie sits slightly crooked. His hair is messier than it was twenty minutes ago. The picture of composure is still there, but only if someone doesn't know where to look.
You do. His jaw is set so tightly it almost hurts to see. For a long moment, he simply looks. Like he's trying to recognize you again.
"Explain."
"I..."
Nothing.
He waits. Not impatiently. Expectantly. When you still don't answer, he exhales through his nose, rubing a tired hand across his face.
"Talk to me."
You stare at the floor.
"I didn't like her."
"I gathered that."
"You were flirting with her."
His expression doesn't change. "No."
"You were."
"I wasn't."
"You laughed at everything she said."
"I was being polite."
"You hugged her."
"She hugged me."
"You let her touch you."
"And?"
The question lands harder than if he'd argued. You stare at him.
"You never stopped her."
For the first time, Yunho goes quiet. Not because he doesn't have an answer. Because he's finally hearing the one thing you've been trying so desperately not to say. He studies your face for a long moment before speaking again.
"...There it is."
Your throat tightens.
"What?"
"That's what this has been about."
You look away before he can see your eyes burn. He notices anyway. He takes one slow step closer.
"Dove." You keep staring at the floor. Another step. "Look at me."
You hate how difficult that suddenly is. When your eyes finally lift to his, your voice comes out so much smaller than you intended.
"You never told her."
A small crease appears between his brows.
"Told her what?"
"That I was your girlfriend."
Silence. Real silence. Yunho blinks once. Not because he's caught. Because the thought genuinely never crossed his mind. You let out a brittle laugh.
"...See?"
"Dove."
"No."
You shake your head before he can interrupt.
"She looked at me like I was... I don't know... your assistant. Someone you brought because you didn't want to eat alone."
His face changes. Just enough.
"I don't care what she thought."
"I do."
The words break apart on the way out.
"I do because you never gave her a reason to think anything else."
Yunho's shoulders still. His eyes search yours. Not defensive. Thinking. Working backwards through the evening. Then, very quietly...
"Is that what you believed?"
You don't answer. Because answering would make it real. He watches you for another second. Then your whisper finally comes.
"Sometimes..." Your voice almost disappears. "Sometimes it feels like you keep me separate."
He doesn't answer. Which somehow hurts even more. Instead, he closes his eyes. Only for a heartbeat. When they open again, something inside them has shifted.
You fill the silence yourself. "Maybe you're embarrassed."
His head lifts. "No."
"Maybe you don't want people wondering why you're dating someone younger."
"Dove."
"Maybe you think they'll look at you and..."
"Stop."
The word lands like stone. Certain. He closes the distance between you in two measured steps, stopping just close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him. One hand wraps gently around your forearm. Grounding. Not restraining. His thumb strokes your skin once.
"Don't do that."
Your eyes finally spill over. "Do what?"
His own jaw tightens.
"Don't tell me what I think." A beat passes between you. "Don't tell me what I feel." His voice is still calm. Still measured. But it cracks ever so slightly around the edges. "Especially when you're so wrong."
You don't argue. You don't defend yourself. Because for the first time that evening, you hear your own words the way he heard them. And they're ugly. You weren't accusing him. You were telling him you'd believed, even for a little while, that the man who loves you was ashamed to stand beside you.
The fight drains out of you all at once, leaving nothing behind except embarrassment and the quiet realization of how badly you've needed him to understand.
Yunho sees it happen. He watches your shoulders fold inward. Watches your eyes drop. Watches the bravado disappear as quickly as it arrived. And in that instant, the irritation he's been carrying since the restaurant slips away almost completely.
Because you were never trying to make him miserable. You were trying, desperately and terribly, to ask one question you didn't know how to put into words.
His hand loosens around your arm. His shoulders drop with a tired exhale. When he speaks again, the steel is still there. But now it's wrapped around something infinitely softer.
"...Do you really think so little of me?"
The question steals the air from your lungs. Not because he's angry. Because he's hurt. Because beneath every stern word since you walked into this bathroom had been something else entirely.
Fear. Fear that something had happened to you. Fear that he'd somehow missed it. Fear that the woman he loves had spent an entire dinner convincing herself she wasn't enough.
You drop your eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"No." His voice is gentle now. "I am sorry."
You look back up confused. He reaches out then, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips linger for just a second against your cheek, almost hesitant after everything that was said.
"I don't talk about my private life at work."
You frown. "I know."
"No." His thumb strokes your cheek once. "I mean..." He searches for the right words, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don't talk about it. Ever."
The confession sounds strangely vulnerable coming from him. Yunho always knows what to say. Except now.
"I don't talk about my parents. I don't talk about my brother. I don't talk about holidays." A faint smile pulls at one corner of his mouth, humorless this time. "Half the people I work with barely know anything about me."
You listen quietly. Because it's true. You've heard him dodge personal questions before. Seen him redirect conversations so smoothly people never realized he'd done it. You'd just never put yourself in that category.
His hand slips from your cheek to the side of your neck, warm against your skin.
"I've spent years building that habit." His thumb moves absentmindedly beneath your ear. "So naturally..." He lets out another slow breath. "I did the same thing tonight."
Your chest tightens. He isn't defending himself, he's retracing his own steps, trying to find the moment he got it wrong.
A sad smile tugs at one corner of his mouth.
"I thought I was protecting my peace." His gaze softens. "I didn't realize I was asking you to carry the cost of it."
Something inside you gives way. Not all at once. Quietly. Like ice finally cracking under spring sunlight.
"I should've seen it," he murmurs. "I should've realized what that looked like from where you were standing. I should've introduced you." Your eyes close for half a second. "I should've made it obvious."
The first tear escapes before you can stop it. Yunho catches it with the pad of his thumb almost instinctively. Not because he found the perfect explanation. Because he isn't looking for one. He's simply standing in front of you, taking responsibility for a hurt he never intended to cause.
"I'm sorry, Dove."
You laugh weakly through the tears.
"You never apologize."
"I do."
"No, you don't."
"I do," he repeats softly. "When I'm wrong."
The corner of your mouth lifts despite yourself. Relief flickers across his face so briefly you almost miss it. He studies you for another moment, then sighs, the last of the tension leaving his shoulders.
"You scared me tonight." The confession is barely above a whisper. "I didn't know who I was sitting across from."
Shame crashes over you all over again.
"I'm sorry..."
"I know."
He doesn't answer right away. Instead, he leans forward until his forehead rests lightly against yours. The contact is warm. Familiar. The kind that always slows your breathing before you even realize it's happening.
Then he kisses you. Softly. Nothing like the way he kissed you earlier. Nothing demanding. Nothing that steals the air from your lungs. Just a slow press of his lips against yours, gentle enough that it feels less like desire and more like reassurance.
I'm still here.
When he pulls away, he doesn't move far. One hand is still cradling your jaw, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek as though letting go isn't something he's ready to do yet.
"You really aren't embarrassed?" you ask quietly.
The question slips out before you can stop it. You regret it immediately. Yunho's eyebrows draw together so quickly it almost hurts to watch.
"Embarrassed?" He searches your face as if he's trying to understand how your mind could've built that conclusion. "Of you?" He lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath.
His other hand comes up to cup your face, leaving you held between both of his palms as though you're something far more fragile than either of you would like to admit.
"Are you out of your mind?"
Heat rushes to your cheeks. You want the floor to open beneath your feet.
"I just..."
The words refuse to come. Instead, another question does. Quieter this time.
"You still love me?"
Yunho simply stares. Not because he's offended. Because he genuinely can't believe that's the question you've been carrying around.
"That's your question?"
You look away instantly. "I shouldn't have asked."
"No." His fingers guide your face back toward him before you can hide. "You don't get to run away now."
His thumb brushes beneath your eye again, wiping away another tear before it falls.
"After everything we've just talked about..."
He smiles then. Small. Disbelieving. So full of affection it makes your chest ache.
"I love you." Simple. Certain. No hesitation. "I loved you when we walked into that restaurant." His thumb strokes slowly across your cheek. "I loved you while you spent an hour driving me out of my mind." The corner of his mouth twitches despite himself. "And I'm still standing here loving you now." Your breath catches. "There isn't a room in this world where I'd be embarrassed to stand beside you."
His forehead rests lightly against yours.
"If anything..." He continues with a quiet smile. "I'm usually wondering what I did to deserve being the man who gets to walk in with you."
Your eyes close. Not because you're crying anymore. Because your heart simply doesn't know what to do with that.
"You are not something I hide." A beat. "You are the best part of my life."
The silence stretches comfortably between you. This one doesn't hurt. This one heals.
Then Yunho leans forward, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead. Another against your temple. One more against your cheek, each one slower than the last, as though he's trying to erase every ugly thought you'd carried into this room.
You smile despite yourself. It lasts all of two seconds. Because when he leans back, there's something new in his expression. The misunderstanding is gone. The hurt has been named. You've forgiven each other.
Which means there's only one thing left to deal with. The spectacular disaster you created out there. And judging by the look Yunho gives you, you're not getting away with that conversation quite so easily.
"You caused me a great deal of trouble tonight."
The words aren't harsh. They're quiet. Which somehow makes them impossible to hide from.
You drop your gaze. "I'm sorry."
"I know." His hand finds yours again, turning it over gently until your fingers rest against his palm. "I forgive you."
Hope flickers across your face. Then he continues.
"But forgiveness doesn't erase the problem."
Your breath catches. You look back up at him. His expression is unreadable. Calm. Patient. Completely in control again.
"What... problem?"
Yunho pulls your hand and places it against the obvious tension beneath the expensive fabric of his trousers. Heat rushes into your face as you inhale sharply.
"Oh."
"Oh?" Yunho lets out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. "You knew exactly what you were doing."
You immediately look away.
"I said I was sorry."
"You did." His fingers tighten around yours, pressing your palm more firmly against the hardness beneath his trousers. "And I accepted your apology."
You swallow. "Then...?"
"Then we address the consequences." His voice drops lower.
He steps closer. Your back finds the wall. Not trapped. Just nowhere else you'd rather be. Yunho reaches up, thumb brushing lightly across your jaw. Patient. Composed. Entirely too in control.
"You started this, Dove." His eyes darken. "Now you're going to finish it."
You bite your lip. "Here?"
"Where else?" His thumb traces your bottom lip. "You wanted to play games in public. Let's see how well you play when the stakes are real."
Your knees feel weak. "Yunho..."
"Unless you'd rather I take care of this myself?" He challenges, his voice low and rough. "But I don't think that's what you want, is it?"
You shake your head slowly, unable to form words.
"No." His hand moves from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. "I didn't think so."
He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You wanted my attention? You have it. All of it. Now, are you going to fix what you broke?"
You nod, your heart pounding. "Yes."
"Good."
The word has barely left his mouth before he's pulling you toward him.
One hand remains firm around the back of your neck, fingers spread wide beneath your hair. The other lands at your waist with enough certainty to steal the breath from your lungs, drawing you flush against him in a single, decisive movement.
"Now, be a good girl and show me how sorry you really are. Come here."
It's the last warning you get.
His mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is deep before you have time to think, your startled gasp swallowed immediately as he claims the space between your lips. There isn't an ounce of hesitation in him now. No careful testing. No gentle reassurance. Every slow, measured restraint he's held onto since dinner seems to disappear into the kiss instead.
Your fingers instinctively clutch at the front of his jacket, wrinkling the expensive fabric beneath your fists as your balance disappears beneath the force of him.
Yunho doesn't let you drift away. His hand tightens at your waist, keeping you exactly where he wants you, his breathing rough against your cheek every time the kiss breaks for the briefest heartbeat before he finds your mouth again. Like he's still angry. Still relieved. Still trying to convince himself you're here and that you're finally letting him in.
By the time he finally pulls back, neither of you is breathing properly. He doesn't give you room to recover. His forehead settles against yours almost immediately, his grip on your waist never loosening, your bodies still pressed together so completely you can feel the rise and fall of every uneven breath.
His eyes stay closed for a long moment.
"So stubborn," he murmurs, the words almost disappearing between your mouths.
His thumb presses once against your side, firm enough to remind you exactly whose arms you're standing in.
The silence between you changes. The misunderstanding is gone. The tenderness is still there, buried somewhere beneath everything else. But what hangs between you now is heavier. Tighter. The kind of tension that makes the room suddenly feel too small to contain either of you.
Before you can smile, before your arms can find their way around his neck, his hands shift. One slides to the small of your back. The other gently catches your wrist. With one smooth movement, he turns you until your back meets his chest.
His body follows yours immediately, close enough that you feel the warmth of him through the fabric of your dress as he guides you forward. Two careful steps. Then your thighs meet the cool marble of the sink, and he stops behind you.
"Hands on the counter," he commands, his voice a low rumble against your ear.
You comply, your palms flat on the stone, your heart hammering against your ribs.
"You are a dangerous woman," he mutters against your shoulder before he bites down harshly, teeth sinking into skin where your dress won't cover it.
"Yunho," you whimper softly.
"Spread your legs," he commands.
You don’t have time to comply. He kicks your feet apart with his own, widening your stance.
His gaze drops to your feet, still encased in the shoes he bought you.
"Still wearing these," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "The ones that were torturing me all night. Every time you crossed your legs, every time you tapped that fucking heel against the table... I wanted to bend you over right there."
His hands are rough as they hike your dress up, bunching the fabric at your waist. The cool air hits your exposed skin.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his gaze predatory in the mirror. "All dressed up, and so beautiful but so, so misbehaving."
"Sorry," you whisper, your voice shaky.
His hand comes down hard on your ass. The sharp smack echoes in the tiled room. You cry out, more from surprise than pain.
"Louder."
"Sorry!" you repeat, stronger this time.
Another smack, this one on the other cheek, leaving a warm sting. "Good girl."
His hand comes down twice more in rapid succession, the sharp smacks echoing in the tiled room. Your flesh stings when he digs his nails into the sensitive skin, scratching hard enough to leave faint pink trails that make you whimper.
Yunho hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Instead of sliding them down, he grips the delicate lace and pulls with brutal force.
The fabric tears with a sharp sound, your knees trembling at the violence of it. Before you can collapse, he bucks his hips forward, pinning you more firmly against the cold marble of the sink.
"I'll be keeping these," he states. "A reminder for you to behave next time we're out."
He spreads your ass cheeks, exposing you completely.
"Teasing me all night got you this wet? Such a messy girl for me."
He spits, watching the saliva trickle down your cleft before using two fingers to rub it over your clit and entrance. You push back against his hand, a desperate whine escaping your lips.
"Ah ah," he tuts, withdrawing his hand. He brings his glistening fingers to your mouth, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror. "Open. Taste yourself."
You obey, parting your lips as he slides his fingers into your mouth. You suck greedily, swirling your tongue around them, tasting your own arousal, mixing itself with the wine from dinner. His eyes darken as he watches you.
"Fuck," he groans, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. "You don't get to dictate the pace. Not tonight. Tonight, I use you."
The sound of his belt buckle clinking open makes your heart race. Then the slow rasp of his zipper being lowered follows, each tooth releasing with agonizing slowness that has you trembling with anticipation.
He frees himself with one hand, the other pressing down firmly between your shoulder blades, keeping you bent over. He rubs the head of his cock through your wetness, coating himself in your arousal but not entering.
"Please, Yunho," you beg, trying to push back onto him.
He delivers another sharp slap to your ass.
"I said no."
He lines himself up with your entrance and, without warning, slams into you in one brutal thrust.
You both groan. He's impossibly deep like this, the angle unforgiving. The marble digs into your thighs with the force of his entry.
He gives you no time to adjust, setting a punishing rhythm from the start. Each thrust is hard, fast, designed to stake a claim. The sound of skin slapping skin is obscene, mixing with your helpless whimpers and his low grunts.
Your high heels tremble dangerously beneath you, the stiletto points scraping uselessly against the tile as your legs struggle to support you under the force of his movements.
He captures one of your wrists, twisting it behind your back and pinning it there. He uses the leverage to push you further down, until your face is inches from the mirror, your breath fogging the glass.
His other hand finds your hair, winding it around his fist. He pulls, just enough to arch your back and force you to look at your reflection in the mirror.
"Watch," he growls, his hips never ceasing their assault. "Watch me fuck you. See how you take it? How desperate you are for my cock?"
Your eyes are glassy with tears of pleasure and pain, your mouth slack.
He looks so powerful behind you, his expression dark with lust, his expensive suit still perfectly tailored and pristine while you’re a mess beneath him.
"You teased me all night," he pants, his grip on your hair tightening. "Rubbing your little foot on my dick. Making me hard in front of everyone. This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked like the little brat you are?"
"Yes!" you cry out. "Yes, I'm sorry!"
"You will be." He releases your hair only to grab your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pistons into you. Your legs start to shake, but he continues his relentless pace, driving into you again and again.
He lowers his body, the expensive fabric of his suit brushing against your back as he leans down.
His tongue traces a path up your spine, making you shudder. He licks the exposed skin of your neck, then bites down on your earlobe, just enough to make you gasp.
Then he places his lips against the back of your head, not kissing, just pressing there to keep you in place and muffle his own moans.
"Fuck," he grunts against your hair, his voice muffled. "So tight. So perfect for me."
He presses a soft peck to your hair before straightening up, his gaze fixed on where you two are connected. His hand comes down hard on your ass once again. Then he grips the reddened flesh tightly, spreading your cheeks apart to watch himself disappear inside you with each powerful thrust.
Your forehead presses against the cool glass of the mirror, eyes closed as you focus on the sensation of him filling you so completely.
Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through your body, his length hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes the coil in your stomach tighten, ready to snap.
"I'm gonna… Yunho, I'm close..."
"No, you're not."
With a sudden, cruel movement, he pulls out of you completely, leaving you empty and aching. You cry out at the loss, your body trembling with the denied release.
"Yunho, please..."
"Please what?" he growls, wrapping his hand around his slick cock and stroking himself a few times. Your juices glisten on his length in the dim light.
"You don't get to come yet. You haven't earned it. You're going to take what I give you, and you're going to thank me for it."
His hand comes down hard on your left cheek, then your right, two rapid, harsh smacks that echo in the tiled bathroom.
The sharp sting makes you gasp, your flesh blooming red under his touch. He soothes the burning skin with his large palms, the contrast of roughness and tenderness making your head spin.
"Such a pretty color on you," he murmurs appreciatively before gripping your hips again.
He slams back into you without warning, even deeper than before. Your legs nearly give out. He slows his pace slightly, making each thrust more deliberate, more punishing.
"You wanted to act like a bitch? Fine. Now you're getting fucked like one. No relief. Just me, using this tight little pussy until I'm satisfied."
The bathroom door swings open. You freeze, a gasp caught in your throat as humiliation washes over you. Through the mirror, you see the woman from earlier pause in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock.
Your hands fly back, trying to push Yunho away, to create any distance between your bodies, but your arms feel like lead.
His arm circles your chest, pulling you upright against him until your back is flush with his chest. The new angle allows him to drive into you even deeper, his hips snapping with more intensity.
Defeated, you rest your head on his shoulder, your eyes rolling back involuntarily, your mind going blank with overwhelming pleasure. You can't think, can't speak. You can only feel him filling you so good.
"Don't get embarrassed now," Yunho snarls in your ear, his thrusts never faltering. He doesn't even look at the intruder. His eyes are boring into yours in the mirror, a silent, possessive challenge. "Let her see who makes you feel this good. Let her see what my woman looks like when she's being properly fucked."
Your hand shoots out, gripping his wrist desperately to maintain your balance as your knees threaten to give out. Your other hand presses flat against the sink surface, fingers splayed wide as you try to anchor yourself.
The woman watches for another second before muttering an apology and backing out quickly, pulling the door closed behind her.
Yunho lets out a dark chuckle. "Good girl. You did so well."
When one particularly loud moan escapes, he covers your mouth with his hand.
"Shhh, baby. I know, believe me, I know." He groans low when you squeeze around him involuntarily. "You know I love hearing you, dove, but I'd rather not have security escort us out of a restaurant I spent three weeks getting reservations for."
Then he replaces his hand with two fingers in your mouth. You immediately suck and lick them, drool falling down your chin. He bites his own lip as he watches you, his eyes dark with hunger.
"Fuck," Yunho groans, his eyes darkening with pure devotion and angry lust. "That's it. So pretty."
He guides your chin toward the mirror, forcing you to look at your reflection.
"Look at you," he murmurs against your temple. "So beautiful when you're falling apart for me."
Your body is like putty against him, your dress disheveled with one strap fallen down your shoulder, your hair a mess, mascara smudged beneath your eyes.
He removes his fingers from your mouth, slick with your saliva, and traces them over your lips.
"Watch," he commands softly.
Then his hand slides down your body, finding your clit. He begins circling it, watching how easily you respond to his touches in your reflection with such intensity it feels like he's devouring you. Your hips buck against his hand, against his cock still buried inside you.
"Now, since you were so good... you can come," he pants against your lips. "Come for me, Dove. Squeeze my fucking cock."
That's all it takes. Your orgasm tears through you, violent and overwhelming. You scream his name, your body convulsing as your vision whites out.
He follows you over the edge a minute later with a guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you, hips jerking with the force of his release.
He grabs your hair, pulling just enough to tilt your head back. He cradles your face with his other hand, forcing you to meet his gaze as he continues to thrust through his orgasm.
"I love you," he breathes, desperate and raw. "God, I love you so much." he grunts as he pulses inside you.
"Love you too," you whisper, tears in your eyes. "So much."
Before you can say more, his mouth crashes against yours. It's not a kiss of gentleness, but of raw, overwhelming need. It's sloppy and desperate, filled with spit and drool as your tongues clash.
He kisses you like he's trying to breathe you in. It's uncoordinated and filthy, a perfect counterpoint to the tender words just spoken, a testament to the storm of emotions raging between you.
He stays there for a moment, breathing heavily against your mouth, the only sounds in the room your ragged breaths.
Then, as quickly as the intensity began, it softens. He pulls out gently, and you feel his warmth leave you. He uses a handful of tissues to carefully clean you up, his touch impossibly tender now.
"Can't have my perfect girl leaking all over her pretty dress," he teases softly.
He helps you stand, your legs trembling, and pulls your dress back down into place. He turns you to face him, his hands cupping your cheeks as he wipes away the tear tracks and smudged mascara with his thumbs.
"I've got you," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your nose, your lips. "You did so good for me. So perfect."
He helps you fix your hair then. The same fingers that had tangled mercilessly through it only minutes ago now move with impossible care, smoothing down loose strands before tucking them neatly behind your ear.
He straightens the stubborn strap back to your shoudler, brushes an invisible crease from your waist, then steps back to inspect his work with quiet satisfaction.
Only after deeming you presentable again does he adjust his own tie and smooth his jacket, slipping effortlessly back into the composed man who walked into the restaurant.
"There."
Your hand flies instinctively to your shoulder.
"Oh, absolutely not."
Yunho catches your wrist before your fingers reach the mark. His mouth twitches.
"You did that."
"I think it suits you."
You glare at him. He doesn't look remotely sorry. A quiet laugh rumbles in his chest as he leans in, pressing one last lingering kiss to your forehead.
"My beautiful girl."
The words settle warmly beneath your ribs.
"So now you'll fuck me in public," you murmur, "but I'm not allowed to hide the evidence?"
His smile is small. Unapologetic.
"No."
The answer is so simple, so certain, that your heart forgets how to beat for a second.
When you step back into the restaurant, Yunho reaches for your hand without hesitation. His fingers weave through yours naturally, like they've done it a thousand times before. Firm enough that you couldn't pull away if you wanted to. Gentle enough that it feels less like possession and more like certainty.
You barely make it a few steps before your free hand flies to your shoulder.
"This is awful."
A quiet laugh escapes him.
"You seemed very enthusiastic about it five minutes ago."
"Yunho."
His smile only deepens. You try to pull your hair over the marks blooming across your skin. Yunho simply brushes it back over your shoulder again, his fingertips lingering for the briefest second.
"Stop."
"No."
"They're going to see."
His eyes flick toward you, warm with something that makes your chest tighten.
"I know."
You stare at him. He doesn't elaborate. He doesn't need to. The meaning settles somewhere beneath your ribs before you can stop it.
Then you see her. Still sitting at her table. Still talking to the people around her. Your entire body locks.
"No."
Yunho doesn't even slow down.
"No."
"Dove."
"I am not walking past her."
"You are."
"I'll die."
"You won't."
You make one last pathetic attempt to hide behind him, but he only chuckles softly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before lifting it between you. His lips brush across your knuckles. Your breath catches.
Before you can recover, he leans down and presses another absentminded kiss against your temple as you walk, the gesture so effortless it almost feels unconscious. Like this is simply what he does when you're together. Like loving you has become muscle memory.
The woman looks up. Recognition flashes across her face. Her eyes fall to your joined hands. To the kiss. To the way Yunho never once lets go of you.
Heat rushes to your cheeks so quickly you're convinced the entire restaurant can feel it. But Yunho keeps walking as though nothing remarkable has happened, guiding you back to the table with the same calm confidence he'd walked in with an hour earlier.
This time, however, he pulls your chair out first.
His hand lingers briefly against the back of your seat before he walks around to his own, settling opposite you with infuriating composure.
You reach for your wine immediately. Desperately, because you need it. Bad.
"You never finished your risotto."
You blink over the rim of your glass.
"That's your concern right now?"
"It’s expensive."
You stare at him, waiting for the joke. It never comes. His mouth twitches just enough to betray him as he reaches for his own wine.
Around you, the restaurant carries on exactly as it had before. Cutlery clinks against porcelain. Conversations overlap. Someone laughs near the window. You're convinced every single one of them knows.
Yunho, meanwhile, opens the dessert menu as though the last twenty minutes never happened. He flips a page, the corners already beginning to curl beneath his fingers.
"So," he says, glancing up briefly. "Do we want the tiramisu?"
You swirl the last of your wine around your glass.
"Do we?"
His mouth twitches.
"Good point." He turns another page. "Chocolate soufflé?"
You don't answer. You simply keep looking at him. Long enough that he eventually lowers the menu, meeting your eyes over the edge of it.
"What?"
You tilt your head, pretending to consider the question.
"I kind of hate you."
A quiet smile pulls at one corner of his mouth. Small. Certain.
"No," he says. "You really don't."
You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest betrays you before your face can.
For the first time all evening, silence settles comfortably between you. No misunderstandings hiding beneath it. No sharp edges waiting to catch. Just the familiar quiet that has always belonged to the two of you.
You shift in your chair, wincing almost imperceptibly as the heels remind you how long you've been wearing them.
Yunho notices immediately. His eyes drop beneath the table for half a second before returning to your face.
"They're hurting."
It isn't a question. You sigh dramatically.
"A little."
Without another word, he extends one hand beneath the tablecloth, palm open.
"Give me your foot."
You eye him suspiciously.
"...Didn't we already establish that was a terrible idea?"
A slow smile appears at the corner of his mouth.
"Which is why I'm asking for your foot." His eyes meet yours. "Not your ideas."
Heat creeps up your neck.
"Yunho."
"I'm choosing to believe you've learned from the experience."
You wisely keep your mouth shut. Judging by the look in his eyes, the only thing Yunho enjoys more than winning is watching you realize you've lost.
His hand pats his thigh twice, waiting patiently. "Foot."
You know that tone. The one that isn't asking because it already knows you'll give in.
With an exaggerated sigh, you shift in your seat. One leg first, then the other. A moment later, both feet are on his lap. The movement is practiced. Unremarkable between you now, which is its own kind of problem.
"This time I'd like you to keep it above my knee."
You nearly choke on your wine.
"Yunho."
"Too soon?"
You can hear the smile in his voice long before you see it.
His hand settles around your ankle, thumb pressing slow circles into the sore skin. Then, almost absent-mindedly, his fingers find the tiny buckle fastening your heel.
You frown.
"...What are you doing?"
"Fixing the problem."
Before you can protest, he unfastens the delicate strap with practiced fingers, easing the shoe from your foot as carefully as though it were made of glass. He sets it beside his leg beneath the table, then repeats the motion with the other one.
The relief is immediate. A quiet breath escapes you before you can stop it. Yunho pretends not to notice.
He simply settles both of your bare feet across his lap again, one broad hand wrapping gently around your arches while his thumb works patiently at the muscles that have been aching since you left the apartment.
It's so automatic. So unceremonious. Like this isn't an act of devotion at all, just another item on the list of ways he takes care of you.
You watch him for a long moment. He doesn’t look up. That, more than anything, makes you smile.
“You’re being weird.”
"Hm?"
"You're... affectionate."
That earns you his attention. He looks up from the menu, genuinely considering the accusation.
“I’m always affectionate.”
You give him a look.
"You are." You hesitate, searching for words that don't sound quite so vulnerable. "Just... not where people can see."
Something shifts in his expression. Because he's realizing you aren’t accusing him. You’re simply telling him how lonely you felt.
His hand stays on your ankle.
“Maybe I should’ve been.”
The words are quiet enough that no one else could hear them. They don't sound like an apology. They sound better than one.
Across the room, your eyes catch the woman for just a second. Her eyes dip beneath the table for just a moment, lingering where Yunho's hand rests around your ankle as though it's the most natural place in the world for it to be.
For a heartbeat, you wait for the embarrassment to come. It doesn't. You look back at him instead.
"So. Chocolate soufflé then?" Yunho asks.
"Get both," you murmur, nodding toward the menu.
His grin is immediate. "I was hoping you'd say that."
You laugh, shaking your head as his thumb absentmindedly traces another circle over your skin.
Dessert arrives a few minutes later. Your feet never leave his lap. Neither does his hand.
Conversation returns as though it had never been interrupted. Work. Travel. Which wine is better. Ordinary things. Comfortably ordinary.
And somewhere between the first spoonful of tiramisu and the last sip of wine, you realize the knot in your chest is gone. Not because the evening had been perfect. Because when it stopped being perfect, the two of you chose each other anyway.
"NEED A HAND?" ── k.hongjoong┆fem best friend!reader
── ۶ৎ in which despite your friendship hanging by a thread, Hongjoong has a bad break up and asks you to go with him to get a new piercing. he doesn't tell you what kind nor why you have to take a 30 minute car trip to the next town to get it. soon after you get to the tattoo studio, things get out of hand
wc: 9k (how)
content: friends to lovers, angsty, fluff + 18 MINORS DON'T INTERACT; public sex, car sex, handjob, fingering, nasty nasty fingering, hongjoong is a pathetic whiny little bitch in heat, porn with a plot. hongjoong is implied to be self conscious about his size. praise kink? maybe? pathetic!hongjoong
warning: mentions of blood / pain (piercings)
a/n: I had to make this blog just to post this. idc if people see this or if this shows in tags I had to get it out of my system. can you tell I was full ovulating when this happened
Hongjoong had been surprisingly quiet on the car drive to the tattoo shop so far, which given the fact it was thirty minutes away instead of your usual spot was sort of concerning. It's not like he wasn’t a quiet person, most people would be surprised to find out he was, but this wasn’t the kind of silence you were used to. The car had looked exactly the same it had last time you had ridden on it a few months ago. Actually, you were pretty sure the empty bottles and snack wraps might have really been the same, some of them might even have been yours.
It still smelled of that strange air freshener that always made you a bit nauseous when mixed with Hongjoong’s signature cologne, and the seatbelt still felt sharp and uncomfortable on your neck. For some reason you had almost expected the car to have changed somehow, just like with Hongjoong. Sitting there with everything above the surface apparently as it was felt like playing pretend. You had expected for him to drive you into one of the usual shops around town you were already acquainted with, so when he had taken that turn into the highway you had started to get suspicious.
“Can’t get it done anywhere here” he had said “Has to be a real professional”
You had raised an eyebrow at him. He answered, or more like avoided most of your questions without taking his eyes out of the road for even a second. Hongjoong was surprisingly a good driver when he wanted to, but the way his eyes stayed glued straight ahead seemed to be more of an excuse to not look at you. However it might have just been the awkwardness between you two, a conversation to be had that you both were avoiding. Is not like you didn’t want to have it, in fact you had already had the conversation in your mind multiple times after he had texted you “wanna come get a piercing?” after two months of silence. In the end you had just sent “sure” and all the things you had planned to say you had left outside when you had closed the car door.
“Damn” you kicked an empty Monster can that pilled among other things at your feet on the passenger seat “What are you getting?”
“You’ll see. Well...” he trailed off, a soft chuckle as result of a joke you weren’t a part of yet “Not really, I guess”
“...okay?” You could tell without even asking. The eyebags under his eyes, his unkempt hair, the bitterness of the laugh that had just escaped his lips. He wasn’t over it. He wasn’t over her. After all, it had only been a week “You are not doing like, anything crazy, right?”
“Define crazy”
“I don’t know, like... I don’t want you to get something you’ll regret when you forget about her in a month”
“I don’t regret any of these" You had known Hongjoong ever since his skin had been bare, watching as ink left its mark in him one tattoo at a time. You could recollect every single one by memory, even those fans would never get to see. Her name fell from his lips after a brief silence, catching you off guard "That was her name”
“I know”
Of course you did. How could you not when she had been the last thing Hongjoong had talked about before it all went down. She had been a “miracle” as Hongjoong had called her, a meeting brought by fate at some event. You had seen her on his finsta stories, never in person. Embarrassingly, you had stalked her profile a few times like a complete masochist. You didn’t know much about her though, as Hongjoong seemed too busy to keep you updated on the relationship once she had agreed to go out with him. It had lasted about two months, which was within the usual window of time that it took Hongjoong’s relationships to end. It was always like this. Passionately fall for a girl, crash and burn, and then this: new addition to Hongjoong’s body. Well, this time there had been a slight change, but neither of you would bring it up.
“She was okay”
“I wouldn’t know” it pissed you off how you were supposed to be walking on eggshells around him, a little biting wouldn’t hurt him. You could tell it had though. Still, the car drive would be a nightmare if the mood got completely sour, so you decided to liven it up with a joke "Just don't get a full black sleeve or something like that just because your manager isn't here”
Hongjoong seemed to appreciate the breather.
“I know, don't worry. But it is... special”
There it was again, that lower register in his voice. You knew him all too well to understand that there was something that was troubling him. The idea of him doing something absurd for a girl he’d dated for two months pissed you off. That she could be that important while you were the backup friend he'd use when he needed someone to tag along. It made you feel worse that you had actually come to him.
“You sure you are not doing anything weird?”
“Can you stop worrying?”
“Well can you stop fucking around for a second?” Hongjoong looked out of his window, hands gripping the wheel a bit tighter, rings reflecting the sunlight. It didn’t feel good to snap at him, especially not when he was in a vulnerable state like that. But how long could you indulge him? How long could you silently forgive him? “Actually I have no idea why you asked me to come” Hongjoong didn’t look at you, his eyes glued to the asphalt and body stiff under your gaze. You sighed and looked out of the window, giving up “I guess time out is over”
The direct sunlight blinded you for a moment before you closed your eyes. You crossed your arms over your chest as it rose up and down with a heavy sigh. Hongjoong eyed you through the corner of his eye, his tongue slowly wetting his lips as if getting ready to say something. Whatever it was it felt heavy on his chest.
“I need someone with me” he murmured loud enough for you to hear, a slight shakiness in his voice “Someone I trust”
You opened your eyes and turned to him, catching his a second before he set them back ahead. There was worry but also determination.
“Okay, you are really freaking me out now”
“I am making it sound worse than it is, trust me”
“Then why don’t you just tell me?”
“It’s... complicated. Listen, I just--” he shrugged, hands leaving the wheel for a second “I can’t ask anyone else. It has to be you”
Far from easing your worries, the bare rawness of his voice worried you even more.
“Okay, stop the car. You are acting crazy”
“I keep making it sound weird but it’s true, okay?” he cackled somehow genuinely at your reaction “And if we get there and you don’t want to hold my hand you can wait outside but...” his shoulders shook with a brief shrug, then a short pause “It’ll hurt less knowing you are there”
You hated how much his words affected you.
“You really are not going to tell me”
“I sort of, maybe... want to see the face you make when you find out”
You saw the smile tug at the corner of his lips, the first one you’d seen since getting in the car. The first one you’d seen in months that didn’t come from a picture with him and his ex on his instagram story.
“Oh... so you are fucking with me. Thank god, I was starting to get worried. Turns out you are just your usual asshole self”
“If it ain’t broken, don’t fix it”
You shook your head with a scoff “Idiot”
You felt his eyes on you, the silence still tense but somewhat lighter.
“Thank you for coming, though”
You bit your lip and your eyes wandered to the landscape across your window again.
“Had nothing better to do”
-
The tattoo shop was by far the most professional looking you had ever seen Hongjoong step into. The receptionist even smiled at the both of you as he saw you come in. You sat on the red velvet couch propped against the black wall, perfectly decorated with framed designs and art pieces in clean, minimalistic frames. Hongjoong walked towards you with the paperwork to sign in hand and sat next to you, closer than you had expected him to. You were still walking on eggshells around him, but he didn’t seem to be doing the same. He should have. He should be the one worried about making the wrong move, say the wrong thing, sit too close to you. And yet there he was, elbows propped on his knees that bruised against yours like it was okay to just do so. Like the last two months hadn’t happened. You both got taken into the room almost immediately where a man in his mid-thirties welcomed you two with a warm, formal smile The smell of sterilizer hit your nose almost as strongly as the white light had hurt your eyes. There was a black tattoo bed in the middle of the room where you assumed Hongjoong would sit, with two small stools resting nearby.
“We already went over all the details during your consultation and I trust you read the paperwork as well. I know you are familiar with all this but I just want to make sure you are ready”
“Yes sir, I am”
Whether it was anticipation or fear you couldn’t tell, but you knew him well enough to hear the nervousness behind the casualness of his voice.
“Okay! Get comfortable on the bed and pull down your underwear. You need to get erect for me to work the piece so I’ll give you guys a few minutes”
What?
You hadn’t said that aloud, and yet Hongjoong turned towards you like he had heard you. All color drained from his face as he saw the artist leave the room, the soft click of the door as it closed the last noise that room heard for a few seconds as you both stayed still.
“I did not think about that” Hongjoong finally said, pointing towards the door “Fuck, I should have told you earlier. I’m sorry” he passed both his hands through his hair, messy strands of freshly dyed black hair standing in all directions “This is fucking weird. I’m sorry, I--”
“What exactly is going on?”
“So... remember that idea I mentioned a year ago?” he asked hesitantly, forcing a smile
It took you a bit of effort to remember, and then your mouth fell open.
“You are out of your mind” your eyes unconsciously traveled down to his black sweats before you shut them tightly, attempting to compose yourself and ignore the heat creeping up your face “You brought me for this?”
“No! I didn’t-- shit, the plan was for you to just hold my hand” he held your gaze, and you saw the confidence leave him as his eyes moved somewhere else in the room as the reality of the situation seemed to hit him “Or you can wait outside, as I said--”
“What the fuck” you said, attempting to make sense of the situation. Of course. Only Hongjoong could get you both in a situation like this “Is that why you said I was the only one you could ask?”
“No, fuck. I’m sorry, seriously. I didn’t think of this. Shit” he laughed nervously “You can just leave and come back with him, close your eyes and all that” Hongjoong pondered for a moment, just how selfish he could get “Or you can just not come back. I just wanted you to hold my hand while it goes in but it’s okay, it’s stupid ”
No matter how amusing it had been seeing him panic in such a way, the sound of his voice, beaten and ashamed was not something you enjoyed. And yet.
“I should have known it was something crazy when you called me. I mean... after two months? You must have been desperate”
Hongjoong lowered his head, eyes fixed on his beaten black Converse. He blinked a few times and he pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep frown. He shifted his weight where he stood and you just waited.
“I’m sorry” he finally said, voice lower “I should have spoken to you”
You fell quiet, your soft smile and confidence disappearing.
“We already spoke about that”
“Not really. Not properly”
“It was nothing, Hongjoong”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you”
You sucked in your bottom lip, chest feeling tight.
“I said it was nothing”
You had said that. You both had.
Back in the same car you both had driven to the tattoo shop in. He had driven you home after one of your regular late night hang outs. Car drive, radio on and a “goodnight” that had stretched until early in the morning. You could still see him as he had been, head turned to you on the driver seat, smile wide as he laughed at something you couldn’t quite recall. The engine had been turned off a while ago when you both had realized the conversation would last longer than expected once again. That had been the night he had told you about the “miracle girl”, every detail he gave you about her making a bit more nauseous. There were years of practice to the way you could smile at Hongjoong as he spoke to you about other girls, but there was nothing you could do about the suffocating pressure of your chest whenever he did so. Your body had been turned to him, seatbelt unlocked, simply watching him under the dim light of a distant street lamp. It hurt every time you realized how much you loved him, and as you always did when the truth hit you, you became small and felt inadequate no matter what you said or did. You always tried to run away from him when that happened.
“I didn’t even have to ask for her number, she just gave it to me!”
“That’s bold” you matched his tone, hoping that would make lying easier. It usually did.
“Right? I don’t know. It was kind of hot”
“I bet. It’s your lucky day”
You wish you could have said the same thing. Your shift at work had been an absolute nightmare, the kind that made you want to lock yourself in the bathroom and angry cry for a few minutes. Your whole week had been like that, really. The only thing that had made it bearable was the plans you had made with Hongjoong on a rare spot where he was schedule-free, and now there you were: listening to him talk about how he had met the woman of his dreams that also happened to be really interested in him. You wished you could be an adult and be happy for him, but you were just a person, and the fact you couldn’t bring yourself to do so made you feel like a terrible one.
“You good?”
Hongjoong sounded worried, and when you finally rose your head to look at him he looked like it too. You hadn’t realized you had zoned out, lips wrapped around the straw of your empty drink and eyes fixed somewhere far away.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m just tired”
Hongjoong shifted on his seat and fully turned to you.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Of course you couldn’t fool Hongjoong. He knew you too well. That’s why it scared you so much whenever your act slipped even if just a bit. He would know.
You forced a smile, your acting not as sharp under the scrutiny “I’m fine, sorry. I’m excited for you, really” you had said, with the type of casualness that took effort. He had stilled at that, as if you had said something wrong. You had noticed the look he’d give you sometimes when you did things like these, like he somehow knew something was wrong. His eyes would scan your face for something, and it worried you that one day he might find it. Maybe he had already. You felt the familiar overwhelming feeling creep up on you, and you knew you couldn’t bear it much longer “Is late and all we are doing is talking so...”
You were looking for a way to finish the sentence and excuse yourself when he interrupted. His voice was low and the words stuck together with a mix of heat and confidence.
“Got any other suggestions?”
The heat crept from your chest to your face so quickly you almost felt feverish. You let out a nervous giggle and Hongjoong’s lips stretched into a smile, his heavy lided eyes dragging from your avoiding eyes to your lips that were still toying with the straw. Hongjoong took the empty cup from your hands and dropped it somewhere at his feet. The sudden silence in the car had made your heart start racing, and you would have said another stupid thing to break the tension if he hadn’t leaned over and kissed you. His lips pressed against yours, shut tight and a bit dry, nothing like you had imagined a hundred times before. His fingers buried themselves on your hair, stiff at first, then loosened when you hummed in satisfaction. He pulled away just enough to let you say something, and when you didn’t he kissed you again, tongue briefly draging along your lips. The sound of your mixed jaded breathing felt loud and obscene in the dead quiet of the car, and the idea that someone could pass by and see you through the windows worried you and excited you all the same. The idea that someone could see you kissing Hongjoong is one you had fantasized about for so long it felt ridiculous by then, and yet there he was, moaning against your lips and hand gently dragging up and down your knee before making its way upwards to your tigh. His thumb brushed along your jeans before he pulled away enough to whisper:
“This okay?”
His voice made you giddy, so close and low and hot against your mouth. You got to nod only once before a bright light blinded you, making you both wince and turn to it. It’s was his phone that vibrated against the holder with an incoming call. Her name was displayed in bold black letters against the white background. There was a few seconds in which you had to make a choice, and as usual the one you took was the easy one that would cause you the most pain. You just laughed.
“Calling at two in the morning? You better pick that up”
The muscles pulling at your smile ached, and the strain to keep your voice steady hurt your throat. You pulled away from Hongjoong, in more ways than one. He could feel it immediately. The coldness, the distance.
“I mean... it’s just--”
“It’s okay Hongjoong” you had already opened the door, body turned away from him and your leg already on the ground “I'm cool on you”
That had been the last time you both had seen each other. There had been some awkward texting trying to emulate a casual conversation for a few days before he told you he was dating that girl, and then the conversation had died until he had asked you to come get the piercing with him.
“I’m sorry” he repeated, a bit louder, shakier. He looked at you from barely a few feet away, but the distance between you two felt bigger and way colder “You can wait in the car if you want. I’ll take you home later. Or I can call you an uber and you can leave now”
You didn’t want to leave, and despite everything, you didn’t want things to be like this.
“Hongjoong, I’d do this for you any time, but...” you hestitated, and you understood why he couldn’t look at you as you found yourself avoiding his eyes too. It was shame, fear “Getting a new girlfriend and shutting me off for months only to ask me to come here and do this? Like you knew I’d come back to you like a lap dog?” you felt your jaw quiver, cutting your speech short “It doesn’t feel great”
“That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to see you” Hongjoong scoffed “That’s kind of w...” Hongjoong trailed off and silence settled once again “I kept talking about you” he finally said “That’s why we broke up”
You stared at him, and to your surpise he was looking at you. You saw his pupils shake, but he didn’t look away, no matter how much he wanted to.
“What a stupid reason” you whispered.
“Yeah”
Your arms unfolded and fell to your sides.
“Do you want me wait outside?”
A shrug.
“Do you want to leave?”
“I asked first”
“I asked second”
You both laughed softly, and for a moment it all felt like it’d all be alright. You pondered for a few seconds before you walked to the door and disappeared behind it. Hongjoong nodded, more to himself than to you.
“Fucking stupid” he muttered to himself as he pulled down his sweats, just as the door opened and you entered the room again “Shit! What--”
Hongjoong hurried to pull his pants up again, hitting the stools and making a crashing noise reverberate through the room as he fell forward on the bed. You would have laughed if you hand’t been fighting the dizziness that came with your eyes quickly snapping to the other side of the room. You had seen nothing, and you needed to keep telling yourself that so the heat wouldn’t turn your cheeks bright red.
“Sorry! I should have knocked. I asked him if he could give us a few more minutes”
“Wh--”
He looked completely lost and embarrassed as he straightened up. His hands were still tightly gripping the waistband of his pants as he saw you walk inside the room and towards him.
“You are all depressed now, there’s no way you are going to get hard so--”
“Wow, can you not say that?” he asked with almost a wince, his eyes closed tightly as if you were the one suddenly undressing in front of him with no warning.
You gave him a confused look.
“What? Get hard?” a crooked smile spread across your face as you saw the slight pink at the tip of his ears “I’m pretty sure you’ve heard worse things”
“Yeah, not from you. It feels... wrong”
“What happened to ‘it has to be you’” you mocked.
“I meant for you to hold my hand”
You pursed your lips, furrowing your brows in confusion.
“So you don’t need any help?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I sort of... thought that’s what you actually meant when you asked me if I wanted to stay”
You could see the gears turning in his head, painfully slowly.
“No! No, I’d never--” Hongjoong closed his mouth, then opened it again “I mean, not... never”
“Whatever, Hongjoong. I’m a woman. I’m your friend. It’s cool with me” you said, feigning aloofness “You can just... touch me or something, imagine I’m her or whoever. I don’t know”
Hongjoong stared at you for what felt like minutes before he spoke again.
“You are crazy”
“Actually, I am ‘the only one you could ask’”
“Stop it, I’m going to kill you” the threat was loud and genuine, but you could also see the way his eyes scanned your body in one swift look before falling silent again.
His eyes wandered around the room. You bit your lip, worried that this was it. Everything could break apart in an instant, the fate of your friendship at the tip of Hongjoong’s tongue.
“He’s going to charge you over time” you joked, trying to backtrack.
“Shut up”
Silence again.
“Hongjoong” you called for him in a soft voice, and he finally looked at you “I can leave, it’s okay. I’ll be on the other side when--”
“No” he instinctively took a step forward, as if you were going to walk away “It’s fine is just...”
You didn’t notice when Hongjoong had walked backwards towards the bed, bringing you with him as his hand still held your arm. He had sat down on the bed and as he rested his back against the back of it you knew he wouldn’t say anything else. There was no need for it. He let go of you and sat with his hands resting over his lap as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was looking at you, waiting for you to approach him. Under any circumstances you would have laughed, but you just crossed the distance and stood closer to him.
“Where did that big talk go?” he joked, the excitement and nervousness evident in his voice.
You panicked for a moment, the situation becoming real all too suddenly.
“Do you want to make out or...?”
“I don’t know what we are doing” he said and you laughed together “But it feels good”
“I haven’t even touched you yet”
“You are gonna touch me?” he said, halfway between a question and a plea.
You absentdmindedly reached for his hair, burying your fingers in the soft black locks while trying to ease your own heartbeat. The moment your fingertips had ran through the base of his scalp he stilled, a shiver running down his back. Hongjoong inhaled softly and deeply, eyes fluttering before fixating on your lips.
“Is that alright?”
Your voice was low, the question spoken like a secret. Hongjoong nodded lazily, face dangerously close to yours.
“Feels good”
His voice dived an octave lower, which you took as an invitation to drag your nails a bit further through his scalp. Hongjoong shifted on his seat and he closed his eyes. You took in his features, still the same as you had remembered these last few months, and yet something had changed. Maybe it had been you.
“I missed you” you confessed with a shaky breath.
“Me too”
“Don’t do that again”
Your fingers grabbed onto his hair, softly pulling at the locks and earning a sharp inhale from him. Hongjoong opened his eyes, brown eyes piercing through yours, eyelids heavy.
“I won’t”
He brought his hand to your waist, taking a moment to gauge your reaction. You expected him to have reached higher, towards the thin lace of your bra. He could have felt the drumming of your heart against your chest, almost begging to be felt. Instead he drew his fingers across your waist, his hand hesitantly sneaking underneath your top and caressing your lower back. Goosebumps covered every inch of your skin, you were sure Hongjoong would be able to see it. His eyes darted around your body, seeing it stiffen as his fingers caressed further up your back with lazy moves. His head fell forward, almost resting against your shoulder, nested against your neck. You felt the hot fanning of a breathing against your neck, and Hongjoong saw your swallow before his eyes fluttered shut as he stirred on his seat. The motion made his nose bump against your neck, and your hand instinctively held his shoulder as if you thought he would fall, fingernails digging slightly into his skin when you felt the softeness of his lips brush against your ear for just a second. Then again, a bit bolder but hesitant chaste kiss to your neck with a soft noise.
You felt his shoulder muscles under his skin as he moved his arm, followed by the rustling of clothes. He struggled awkwardly for a few seconds in which his grip on your waist tightened. The side of his face felt burning hot against your neck, and you wondered if he was embarrassed.
“Do you need help?”
“No” he was “I’ve got it”
The hand on his shoulder ventured downwards, anticipation jolted through your body before you had time to feel ashamed of it. You felt the hard bits of the old band t-shirt Hongjoong wore, the name faded away and rough under your fingertips. You felt his chest rise up and still as your hand stayed there for a second, feeling the faint drumming of his fast heartbeat, before continuing your way down. The fanning of his breath against your neck stopped and his body froze when he felt you push his hand that was resting on his crotch to the side. His other hand that had been low on your back, pinky finger toying with the hem of your jeans stopped altogether. Saying he was half hard would have been an understatement. It felt hot as you palmed it softly over his sweats. A soft whine escaped his lips, so pathetic you felt it directly between your legs. You stilled for a moment, savoring and processing the sound of it. It must have been too long because with a hot sigh Hongjoong's hand rested on top of yours, squeezing himself with your hand in a silent, desperate and pathetic plea. You palmed him, a bit drunk on how desperate he felt, head limp on the crook of your neck, his body so hot you could feel it. His fingernails digged slightly on your lower back as he whined against your ear, holding onto you as if steadying himself. You could feel yourself getting wet. If this was the state you were both in by simply touching each other over clothes, just how much--
Hongjoong moaned against your neck when you passed your fingers under the waistband of his sweats. Of course he wasn't wearing underwear, it would be too uncomfortable after the piercing was done. His skin felt hot, sweat making it a bit sticky too. When you finally grabbed his cock his mouth opened in a silent moan. He was hard by now, heavy under your touch, gratefully twitching when you had started dragging your hand painfully slowly. He was dragging his tongue through your neck in open mouth kisses, lost in the way you pumped him slowly.
"Can I put it out?" you asked, sounding way hornier than you wanted him to know. He shook his head, but the way his hand gripped at the flesh of your waist told you the idea was somewhat to his liking "I want to see it"
He thrust himself into your hand, giving himself away almost like it had been an accident. He moaned weakly into your neck, and soon he found himself doing it again, and again, and again. The chair rocked slightly, the frantic screeching of its swaying filling the room and giving away the pathetic way Hongjoong was fucking himself into your hand, holding onto you for dear life. His hands gripped at your shoulders and waist, putting you at a very uncomfortable position, but the sound of his panting on your ears and the feeling of his now slick cock desperately thrusting onto your hand was too exhilarating for you to care. Then you heard his airy voice against the shell of your ear, loud and hot. It sent the most pleasant chills down your spine.
“You can tell him to come in”
You both could tell neither of you wanted to stop, but he knew he'd cum if he thrust into you even once more. You put your hand away, resting it against his chest to stabilize yourself. His clothes felt strangely warm, and the feeling of his fast heartbeat strangely flattering. You expected him to look away when you pulled away from him but he didn’t, his clouded eyes stuck to you like a madman. He fixated on the way your chest rose up and down, your exposed waist where he had lifted your top, the small wet patch on your neck where he had drooled. Your chest, where he seemed to regret not touching you. Your flushed face and hazy eyes staring down at him, mirroring his.
“Hurry, or I’ll finish” he moaned against your mouth.
You turned around and exited the room under Hongjoong’s burning gaze. It felt embarrassing to call for the artist in such a state, wondering if he'd know. When you entered the room your eyes stayed glued to the floor until you had been next to Hongjoong, his hand warm holding tightly onto yours. It felt so strange doing this after what had just happened. The metallic clanking behind you made you shiver and you tried not to think about what would be going down soon. Next to you, Hongjoong’s eyes were glued to the ceiling, the strong white light reflecting on his glassy blue eyes.
“It’ll be just a moment” his eyes fell onto you and despite the nervousness still evident in them, they softened “You are going to look so cool”
His grip on your hand tightened. It really was just a moment, but to Hongjoong it probably felt way longer than it had been. Your hand would hurt for a while after the way he had held onto it, but you wouldn’t tell him that. His jaw tensed as he held in a pained cry, and despite not being able to see what was going on, the implication made you wince. A single tear streamed down his cheek, softly wiped them away by you. His breathing seemed to steady as you heard the familiar sound of gloves being pulled out.
“All done. Bleeding for a few days will be normal, it’s nothing to worry about. Clean the wound twice a day, dry it gently, don’t touch the piece, the usual. No swimming. No oral or penetrative sex for a month" none of you said anything, but you both were obviously disappointed "Erections are okay but there might be some bleeding too... I think that’s it. I’ll let you fix yourself and I’ll be waiting outside, okay? See you in a minute, guys”
“Thanks” Hongjoong’s voice was raspy but he felt alright “Wait outside, I’ll be right there”
“Okay”
-
You had expected for Hongjoong to walk with a bit more difficulty than he did, but despite the slight hint of discomfort on his face there weren’t many tells. He might be able to hide it from the members after all. After Hongjoong had arranged for his follow up visit you both exited the place, the clear mid-day sky welcoming you despite the chill air. You expected things to get awkward, but it surprised you how much you both just seemed horny and frustrated.
“You hungry?” Hongjoong asked as he fished inside of his jacket for his car keys.
“I could go for a bite, yeah”
His hand grabbed onto the handle of the driver’s seat and you both sat down inside.
“Thank you. Really” he said.
“No need. And I am sorry”
Hongjoong frowned.
“Sorry for what?”
“For your girlfriend breaking up with you because of me”
His lips shaped into a crooked smile.
“Who said she’s the one who broke up?” You looked at each other for a moment before he leaned forward and he kissed you. It was soft, and slow. So slow that it was obvious it was far from innocent. His eyes trailed down your body with a sigh "What about we go back to your place, actually?"
You bit your lip and shook your head. Your thighs pressed together.
"Didn't you hear what he just said"
"He said no oral and no sex, on me" his eyes bored into yours, hungry "There are so many things I can do for you" his hand rested on your knee, lazily moving upwards "Please?" Your legs parted and his hand eagerly touched your through your jeans. Hongjoon let of a soft groan, even through the thick fabric he could feel the heat "How wet did you get?"
"It's your fault" you complained, aware of the way Hongjoong would soften up at your pouty demeanor from time to time.
"Is it?" he feigned innocently, his fingers uselessly pressing harder over your entrance through the jeans, as if your cunt was desperately calling out to him. It was nothing short of disgusting how horny you both were in plain daylight, parked on the street with people passing by "Should I fix it?"
-
You both tried to make the ride back to your apartment, but thirty minutes proved to be too much. Heat was blinding Hongjoong, eyes darting around like a crazy man, so impatient he'd hit the claxon at any car that took more than one second to floor it after the light turned green. He was trying hard not to touch you with his free hand, and you were busy ignoring how uncomfortably your panties stuck to your pussy. He had driven inside the parking lot of a mall, half empty, as you questioned him.
"I'm sorry" he had said, before finding the emptiest, most secluded part of it and parking against the wall "get in the back" he demanded, but there was desperation underneath it.
He winced like something hurt, and it was then you could see he was fully hard underneath his sweats. You wanted so badly to see the piercing. Touch it, suck around it, feel it deep inside. A moan escaped your mouth just thinking about it as you let yourself fall on the back seat, Hongjoong coming through the door and slamming it behind him. His hands went for your zipper right away, pulling at the waist of off your jeans with impatient hands. You stopped him.
"All the way?" you asked, your panic as strong as how feverishly horny you felt.
"No one will see" he said before he kissed you, mouth open and tongue dragging across it.
Hongjoon moaned at the difficulty he had when he tried to pull your pants down. He had become painfully aware of your plush thighs and pretty ass for a long time now. He had thought about humping you like a dog whenever he took notice of how well fitted your pants were, or when you'd sit down next to him in a playful minskirt. He didn't even think about fucking you, the simple idea of humping your ass, fully clothed and cumming in his boxers was enough for him. The jeans pilled in an awkward way at your ankles, but it was enough for Hongjoong to maneuver. He didn't waste time and pulled your panties to the side. Breath hitched on his throat when his fingers touched your pussy. You could see the blissful surprise in his eyes, locked on yours, before he had to look down to make sure he wasn't going crazy. He trailed his fingers across it, so wet they easily slid across it.
"Fuck" he said in a pained whine, like he couldn't believe his eyes. He closed them for a moment, trying to concentrate on the nasty, slick sounds that embarrassingly filled in the quiet of the car as his fingers spread your lips. It made his dick twitch painfully.
His eyes went back to yours again, as if asking you if this was real. You looked away, embarrassed. It drove him insane, your flushed face, shiny shy eyes and brows furrowed in shame. All while he felt his fingers wet and sticky against your cunt that seemed to be pleading for him to fuck you.
He didn't even try, his fingers seemed to slip inside your pussy with ease, getting sucked in in a way that had you both moaning into each other's mouths. He pulled them out, taking off the rings on his fingers and unceremoniously tossing them somewhere in the car. He put his fingers right back in as deep as he could, his other hand trying to push your knee as far away as the jeans at your feet allowed it. He groaned almost childishly, taking his fingers away again.
"Take the pants off"
He leaned forward to take your shoes off, but you stopped him again.
"What if someone sees"
"The windows are tinted"
It shouldn't have been enough to convince you, but it did the job. You let him take your shoes and jeans off, horny by just seeing how desperate he was to just finger you. He turned you slightly, your back now pressed against the car door, him sitting on the back seat with your pretty pussy in full display for him. Your back hurt, uncomfortable, but the way he was looking at you was worth it. You could see his fully hard dick pressing against his sweats and you knew it must hurt against the restrain. He pushed your knees apart, but you closed them. It almost made you feel bad, the way he looked at you like he had done something wrong. Before he had time to wonder if he had messed up, you said:
"Pull your pants down, friction is going to hurt you"
Hongjoong bit his lips, it did hurt.
"It's okay..." he started saying, until he saw how you pressed your legs together, hiding you from him. The simple act of losing sight of your leaking pussy for even a second seemed to do the trick, his hands quickly pulling the waistband of his sweats down and freeing his hard, red cock. You could faintly see the piercing, glistening faintly under the fluorescents of the parking lot. You pussy clenched around nothing, around the mere thought of fucking his pierced cock deep inside you.
"Do you like it?" he asked, a hint of shyness laced on his heated breath.
"When it gets better, can I fuck it?"
Hongjoong nodded slowly, as if taking in your request. He parted your legs, slightly pressing them against your chest, making you whimper at the nasty way he was eyeing you. With a whimper he went back to trace his fingers across your pussy, tantalizingly slow for someone who was so desperate to be knuckles deep inside you seconds ago.
"I want to spit on it but you don't need it"
You understood then why he had fallen so quiet, why he was toying with your entrance. He was savoring the sound of it. The slick, faint and nasty sound your pussy made whenever he graced his fingers across it. You pushed your hips, almost begging him, and he obeyed. His fingers slid right inside again, this time perfectly going all the way in until his knuckes pressed against the entrance. How he wished he could put more in, fuck you like a pathetic bitch in heat in the back of his car. The way you moaned brought him back to reality. You clenched around him, and he worried he might cum. Slowly he pulled his fingers out, savoring the slick coat of arousal around your fingers before pushing them back in. They filled you up again, your hips moving on their own again. He pumped them inside you slowly, lost in the small pants that left your mouth, your eyes glued to the way his hand got sucked inside your cunt over and over again. His thumb started to press at your clit whenever his fingers went all the way in, and the loud moans you were trying to suppress turned into pathetic cries whenever it did. The cries, the exposure, your hot pussy, the filthy sounds. He was going to cum. He needed to compose himself.
He pulled his fingers out, and you let out a whimper that sounded like a question. He dragged your legs towards him, until he had your back arching across the back seat. His hands grabbed at the neck of your tank top, pulling it down unceremoniously to expose your tits to him. The way he seemed so desperate to do so got you clenching around nothing. His hands moved to them, palming them with a satisfied groan, brows furrowed as he took the whole sight in. You, sprawled in the back seat of his car, chest exposed and your legs open just for him to see and touch, thighs wet with your own arousal. His hands dragged down, nails scratching at your stomach and thighs on their way back to hold the back of your knees against your chest.
"I want to fuck you" he said, as if it were a confession "I've always wanted to fuck you"
Maybe it had been a confession, an apology he felt he'd owe you soon. He winced, and you thought the piercing might hurt, but you understood once you saw and felt him cum on you and the leather seat. A thin string connected his cock to the cum that now covered your gaping pussy. It felt hot, but not as hot as the sight in front of you: Hongjoong hunched forward, head down in shame and panting slightly.
"I'm sorry" he breathed out, an you could tell he was embarrassed.
He heard you groan lowly, and for a second he worried he really had ruined everything, until you said:
"You are so hot"
His head shot up when he felt you grabbing his wrist, coating his fingers on his own cum before moving your hips to fuck yourself onto his hand. Hongjoong moaned loudly in surprise, which startled him so much that he turned around to make sure no one had heard. He brought his attention back to you quickly, not wanting to miss a single second of what was going on inside his car. Neither did you. The sight of his shiny eyes, fucked-out expression and parted lips making you squeeze his pretty fingers, dragging another whine from him.
"You are fucking me so well" you said, speaking for the first time. You voice was strained, dry "Can't you feel how much I love it?"
You clenched around him on purpose, and the way his face twisted anyone might think he was severely hurt.
"Does it feel good?" he breathed "Do my fingers feel good? Tell me they feel good"
His desperation made you clench again "It feels so fucking good, can't you hear it?"
He could hear it, that filthy sound now exacerbated by his cum getting pushed in and out of your cunt. He was getting hard again, watching you hold onto his hand and thrust into it, using it to abuse your own pussy with such a pleased, eager expression.
"You are so pretty. You have such a pretty pussy" the words left his mouth like a lost thought. He wasn't really thinking anymore.
"I want you to fuck it"
"Shut up" he groaned.
Hongjoon leaned in and kissed you, the drool that had formed at the sight of you now falling down your chin in a clash of teeth and tongue. He pressed his tongue against yours, forcing it deep inside your mouth just as he buried his fingers deep, deep inside you. The moan that rose from your throat choked on his tongue. He pulled it out of your mouth it with a nasty sound, a thread of saliva connecting your lips. Just by the way he looked, you knew he was hard again.
"I'm going to fuck you so good. I promise you"
He pulled his fingers back again, and proceeded to finger you at a speed that made it clear he was trying to get you to cum before he did again, and he was close.
"You sound so fucking good"
He patted at his sweats with his free hands, hand looking for something like a desperate puppy. He finally found it: his phone. When you realized what he was doing, both embarrassment and heat spread through your lower belly, making you whine in a way that made Hongjoong's hand shake, but his pace never faltered. He had opened the recording app and placed it close to your pussy, making sure every filthy little sound was saved for later.
You came with a loud cry, and Hongjoong savored every small clench, every small wet sound that came from your orgasm as he moaned himself, painfully hard and wishing he could use you like a fleshlight. He rode out your orgasm by recording every sound, fingers going inside and out, stretching you out and dragging them across your cunt to record as much as possible. When he was done, he pulled them out, and sat with a deep sigh, placing his hard cock insde his sweats with a wince. He took a look at you, then leaned forward and kissed you softly on the lips. It was soft, careful, like the first one you had shared in that same car. You were both riding the high, and you felt blissful enough to do him the favour of cleaning his fingers by bringing them to your mouth, tongue dragging across them in small licks.
"You are awful" Hongjoong said, voice strained and eyes going dark again.
It made you chuckle, and baring your teeth you bit them playfully before placing a chaste kiss on them.
He pulled your top back up, and helped you sit comfortably after lying in such a straining position for so long. The truth was, if he let you stay in that position for longer, he might be tempted to bury his fingers deep inside you again. God, he already missed the feeling of your pussy around them. He looked around to make sure there was no one around.
"You good?" he asked, lips pressed against your cheek in a soft kiss.
You humed in response.
"I'm sorry about your car" you said, guiding Hongjoong eyes to the part of the back seat between you two that was covered in cum. Hongjoong's chest rose and fell with a deep sigh.
"It's my fault. I was too impatient"
"How are you going to survive a whole month?"
Something flashed in Hongjoong's eyes. Something soft and unguarded.
"I think I'll manage, if you help me out"
You bit your lip. It was obvious he was still incredibly horny. So were you.
"Do you think you'll last until we reach my apartment?" you didn't miss the way Hongjoong's eyebrows rose, eyes shining, then it disappeared after he took a quick glance at the time on his phone.
"I have to go back to the dorm..."
You playfully shrugged.
"You could be very quiet" you whispered into his lips before kissing them so softly it made his dick twitch.
"I can't be, you just saw" he retorted, but you could tell he only needed a little push.
"It's easy if your mouth is busy" you kissed his neck, tongue dragging swiftly through te spot "Buried under my pretty pussy"
"Okay" that's all he said before he got out and got on the driver's seat "Stay there, I can't drive if you sit next to me, please"
in which: you have a dream about your best friend that shines him in a new light.
pair: jongho/afab!reader
word count: 7.3k
content: college au, sex, protected sex, completely consensual
rating: R — nsfw | mdni
“Listen, all I can really say is that if she wanted to do well on the project, she would’ve pulled her weight,” Jongho grumbled.
You and Jongho were getting lunch in between classes. The two of you usually talked about classes during your break, and that day, you decided to bring up the last group project that you worked on. Jongho had to carry his team while you ended up having a blast with your own, making him all the more salty.
“Yeah, but that’s no reason to make her cry,” you pointed out.
“It’s her fault for not doing the work.”
“Jongho, she was your girlfriend. You didn’t have to be so mean.”
“Was, thank God,” Jongho let out a sigh of relief. “Honestly this whole dating thing is such bullshit— I just want to get my degree and get out of here.”
“Wow. How romantic,” you said sarcastically and rolled your eyes.
“Shut up,” Jongho retorted while throwing a fry at your face. “It’s your fault I was dating her in the first place.”
“I said go on one date with her. No one told you to ask her to be your girlfriend.”
“Yeah, well… Shut up.”
You shrugged, a smug smile appearing on your face as you realized that you won that argument. Jongho took a bite of his burger, annoyance written all over his face as you rubbed your smug smile. Jongho chose to fully ignore you at that point, making you turn to your phone to see that you were going to be late for your next class if you didn’t haul your ass out of there.
“Hey, I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight?” you asked him.
“Yeah. See ya,” Jongho responded with a nod and a light wave.
There was a Tuesday night tradition you, Jongho, and a couple other friends from school had— Trivia Night. One of your other friends worked at the bar that hosted the trivia, which is how you came to know of it in the first place.
That being said, even though you went for trivia, you guys never actually played. It was more of an excuse to go drinking in the middle of the week than anything, which meant every Tuesday, you and your friends were drinking way too much and screwing yourselves over for classes the next day.
“Hey, Joong!” you said, your words staring to slur together. “Let’s do a shot together.”
“Yeah! All of us!” your friend, Mingi, added as he hugged you from behind.
“Fine, last round, and then I’m sending you home,” Hongjoong replied while rolling his eyes, a playful smile on his face.
“Good idea. Y/N’s been getting a little handsy with me,” another friend, Yunho, said as he brushed your straying hand off his thigh— you couldn’t help it; you were an affectionate drunk.
The five of you clinked glasses and took your shots, Yunho and Jongho doing it with ease while you and Mingi made faces as the liquor burned your throats.
“Hey, so did you guys look into your classes for next semester?” Jongho asked.
“Not yet,” Yunho shook his head. “I’m guessing you have?”
“Yeah. We have to take the senior colloquium, so why don’t we all try for the same time and recitation? Keep us sane in our last semester of college.”
“Alright, that sounds good,” you giggled and hugged Jongho. “It’ll be fun to have a final class together.”
Mingi settled for nodding while also giggling. Jongho wanted to talk about the matter further, but you and Mingi were just far too gone to have a proper conversation at that point, so he just settled for talking to the group about it when you all were sober.
You were still clinging to Jongho as he sat quietly and thought about classes while sipping his beer, your head on his shoulder, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he was lost deep in thought, and your drunk self thought it was the perfect time to nuzzle your nose in his neck.
“What? Why?” you complained as Jongho got out of your embrace and grabbed your arm to put over his shoulder.
“Because you’re done.”
“How do you figure?”
“Because I know. Let’s go home before you yak on the bar again,” Jongho shut you down and started dragging you out of the bar. “Yunho, let me know how much we owe you after you close the tab.”
“Will do!” Yunho responded cheerfully as he watched Jongho drag you away.
“Bye Yuyu, Mango, Joong!” you managed to say before leaving the establishment.
The walk home was atrocious for Jongho. You refused to walk in a straight line and kept trying to pull him towards any bar that you passed, and at some point, Jongho had enough and made you get on his back so he could piggyback you back to your apartment. His patience was wearing thinner as you started playing with his hair and tickling his neck, but you were his best friend, and you were drunk out of your fucking mind, so he was going to be there for you.
By the time Jongho got you home, you were practically falling asleep on his back— he had a very comfy back, not going to lie. He put you down right in front of your door, but instead of reaching for your keys, you slumped onto him, his chest catching you before you went tumbling down.
And then, you blacked out.
You woke up the next morning with a horrible hangover and absolutely no memory of how you got back from the bar in the first place— you remembered Jongho walking you home, but how you ended up in your bed was a complete mystery to you. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind, that you did something you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was, nor did you have the time to ponder it because you had to get your ass out of bed and onto campus.
Your first class was absolute torture, your headache intensifying as the lecture went on and on, and by the time the class was over, you were ready to fall over. You trudged out of the classroom to see your friends waiting for you— they usually waited for you after your Wednesday morning class so that all four of you could grab lunch— Yunho immediately pulling you in for a hug.
“You look like shit,” he commented while hugging you.
“Wow, really? I had no idea,” you responded with heavy sarcasm.
“What the fuck happened to you last night for you to look like this?” Mingi asked.
“I have no fucking clue,” you groaned. “All I remember is leaving the bar…”
But, your statement was drowned out by Mingi as he dramatically grabbed his chest and gasped, “Did you and Jongho go and drink more without us?!”
“Yeah, no. Y/N was too wasted for that,” Jongho shook his head. “I took her home directly.”
“I guess the hangover is only hitting so hard because I’m not as young as I used to be,” you sighed loudly.
“…We’re all in our early twenties. Shut up,” Yunho said while rolling his eyes.
“I dunno man, Jongho acts like an old man a lot,” Mingi said with a slight giggle. “I think he’s in his eighties.”
As the three boys bickered, your mind lingered on Jongho’s words. He took you home directly, and you remembered that, but… How the hell did you get into your apartment? And why was the weird feeling still lingering?
“Hey,” you pulled Jongho out of the argument and to the side, the two tall men still walking without realizing you and Jongho were no longer walking with them. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Jongho agreed, the two of you moving to the side of the hallway.
“Did… Did something happen last night?” you asked. “Because I have this nagging feeling that I did something, but I… I don’t know what.”
“Don’t worry about it, and just sleep it off,” Jongho replied. “Look, I gotta get to class. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Right, yeah, okay…” you trailed off as Jongho left you standing there more confused than ever.
Because what did he mean by “don’t worry about it”? What the fuck did you do last night?
You decided to take matters into your own hands. After you were done with classes for the day, you went straight to the bar because, Goddammit, you needed answers or at least some clarity.
“Joong!” you called loudly the second you got into the bar. “I have a question for you!”
You plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools and looked at the bartender, a determined glint in your eye, but a heavy sigh on your lips.
“Geez, you look like shit,” Hongjoong commented on your appearance the second he stood in front of you.
“That seems to be the general consensus today… Ugh, anyway. Did I do something wrong last night?”
“What?” Hongjoong’s face twisted in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Like… Okay, I feel like I did something I shouldn’t have done last night,” you explained. “And I’m trying to figure it out.”
“You were fine here— well, you were shit-faced, and Jongho took you home, and that’s about it,” the bartender recollected. “You didn’t do anything outta pocket.”
“Okay… I still feel like… I’m missing something,” you grumbled to yourself, but the man could still hear you.
“Why don’t you ask Jongho since he walked you home last night?”
“See, I tried doing that, but he told me “don’t worry about it”,” you said, exasperated, while using air quotes. “What the fuck does that mean— What should I not worry about?!”
“I don’t know!” Hongjoong held his arms up as if you were holding him at gunpoint and demanding answers. “The only thing I can say is ask him again, or maybe sleep on it, and it’ll come to you.”
“So helpful,” you couldn’t help but be sarcastic. “Fine, I’ll sleep on it. Thanks for the help, Joong.”
You got off the stool and were about to head for the exit when the bartender asked, “So you’re not going to get a drink?”
“Are you fucking kidding— No! Bye, Joong!”
“Hey, Jongho?”
The two of you were sitting on your couch— Jongho came over after he finished his classes for the day.
“What’s up?”
“Are you sure I didn’t do anything that night?” you asked him, your voice slightly wavering.
“I told you not to worry about it,” he responded with a sigh.
“No, but I’m going to worry about it because I want to know!” you exclaimed. “You being all vague and shit about it just makes me more concerned, and I just need you to tell me for my own sanity.”
Jongho let out yet another sigh. He looked straight at you, his eyes meeting yours. You never realized how pretty his eyes were until you made proper eye contact, and the bigger his eyes got, the prettier they became. Then, you realized that his eyes were not getting bigger, but he was moving closer to you. You leaned backwards, your back hitting the arm rest as he pinned you against it, his light exhale flitting past your cheek.
“You really want to know?” he asked, his voice lower and softer than usual.
“I… I do. I do want to know.”
Shocks ran through your body when he caressed your face lightly, his dainty fingertips rubbing lightly against your ear. He leaned in closer to you, making you squeeze your eyes shut since you assumed that he was going to kiss you. Instead, he whispered in your ear, “You told me you loved me.”
He leaned away, allowing you to look at him with complete and utter shock. You tried to brush off the tension building in the room and between your legs as you responded as light-heartedly as you could, “But I always tell you that I love you.”
“Yes, but…” Jongho placed his hand on your thigh and slowly moved it upwards, his voice dropping even lower. “Last night, you told me that you meant it, that you were in love with me.”
Your jaw dropped. Your eyes darted back and forth, and your heart rate picked up as you tried to make sense of the situation— his words, his actions, and your body’s reactions.
“I— I did?” you whispered.
“Yes, and then,” Jongho’s voice also hushed to a whisper as he leaned close to you once more, his hand going further along your thigh, nearing your crotch. “You kissed me.”
“I… I— I,” you stammered, not a single coherent thought left in your brain.
Your brain only got emptier when you felt his soft lips against yours, your body immediately melting into his comfortable touch. You reciprocated his kiss, your hands unconsciously moving from his shoulders to his neck, bringing you closer to him. Your body lurched towards his when you felt his hand move around to your ass, the man firmly cupping it while his other hand slipped under your shirt and traced the curve of your waist, a soft moan playing on your lips.
“Just admit it,” he said softly with his lips still pressed against yours. “You love me, and I love you, too.”
His teeth got a hold of your lower lip and tugged it upwards as his hand started kneading your breast, making you gasp. Then, his patience started wearing thin. He lifted your shirt and moved your bra up to reveal your breasts, his mouth immediately going right for your nipple, and as he sucked, his hands pulled your pants down to reveal your soaking cunt. You were moaning loudly at that point, Jongho’s name barely rolling off your tongue.
When Jongho slipped his slender fingers into you, your entire body reacted. Your back arched, your toes curled, and your hands ran through his hair and gripped it tightly, his fingers pleasuring you greatly. He kept curling them inside you, searching for your G-spot, and once he found it, you cried loudly and sat up in bed.
In bed?
You looked around. Jongho was nowhere to be found, and you were in bed, awake. What the fuck… was that? You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and shifted in bed, only to feel something wet between your legs. You lifted your duvet to see that you were sitting on clean sheets, but soaking up your panties was your arousal.
Did you seriously just have a sex dream about your best friend?
You were mortified with yourself. For the rest of that week, you avoided Jongho like the plague because every single time you saw him, guilt pricked at your skin, brain, and heart. How could you dream of your best friend like that and then see him in the same way ever again? How were you supposed to act normal around him?
And so, you avoided the shit out of him. Seriously. You made sure to use the other exit from your classroom so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the group walking with you, and you ditched all of your regular spots because, fuck, you had no idea how you were going to be normal around him when you couldn’t even be normal with yourself before sleeping.
Because, truth is, that dream did something to you. Any time Jongho popped into your mind, your cunt would clench, and your body would rush with heat; and if you thought about him at night, you desperately had to do something about it. So, basically, every night, you were touching yourself while thinking about your friend— your best friend. What the fuck was wrong with you?
You were forced to meet with the group on Tuesday— Yunho left you a very long, very angry, very drunk voicemail telling you that if you didn’t show up on Tuesday, he was going to murder you. You doubted him, but when you heard Jongho and Mingi try to hold him back in the voicemail, you decided it wasn’t worth risking it.
You and Mingi were the first ones there, the two of you sitting in awkward silence as Hongjoong served you your drinks.
“Okay, um, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mingi asked after taking a solid sip of his beer.
“W-What do you mean?”
“You’ve been avoiding us all fucking week! Did we do something wrong, or like, do you hate us or—”
“Oh my God, Mingi, no,” you immediately assured the guy. “I wasn’t trying to avoid all of you! Just…”
“Just what?”
“I was avoiding Jongho…”
“What the fuck? Why?” Mingi’s tone went from accusatory to worried and sympathetic, making you relax a little bit.
“Okay, so, uh… The other night… I… I may or may not have had a sex dream about Jongho… And when I woke up, I just… I got super turned on.”
“Wait, was it a wet dream?”
“I don’t know… Can girls even have wet dreams?”
“Well… Sounds like a wet dream to me,” Mingi answered after pondering the idea for a little.
“Great. Either way, I can’t even look at him the same way anymore. Fucking kill me,” you groaned as you laid your head on the bar top.
“Wait, so why’d you even dream about it?”
“I don’t know, man! I’ve been friends with the guy for fucking years, and this is the first time I’ve ever dreamt about him like that— and what’s worse is that he was so fucking good in my dream! Ugh, I wanna die!”
Mingi, who found the whole ideal hysterical, was laughing his ass off as he watched you get more and more mortified by the second.
“Did you ever figure out what happened that night, Y/N?” Hongjoong entered the conversation, making Mingi’s laughter die down a little.
“No,” you sulked. “I never got the chance to ask him again… I asked him in that dream, though.”
That made Mingi laugh all over again. He was clutching his stomach and laughing until he started crying, and he continued to laugh his ass off even when Yunho arrived. Well, he was still laughing, but he was able to wheeze to Yunho, “Dude, listen to this—”
“Mango, shut the fuck up!” you kicked Mingi in the shin, although that did nothing to the guy.
“Y/N had a random sex dream about Jongho!” Mingi barely said before laughing all over again.
“Really?” Yunho asked— he didn’t seem surprised, though.
“Yeah,” you said sadly.
“Well, I guess it makes sense that you’d have a sex dream about him considering what you did,” Yunho pondered out loud.
Mingi stopped laughing, and you, Hongjoong, and Mingi all stared at the tall man, Hongjoong asking, “What the fuck did she do?”
“She kissed him.”
The three of you stared at Yunho with wide eyes and dropped jaws.
“What?!”
“Yeah, Jongho told me about it.”
Your brain, at that point, was erroring out as it tried to recollect the events of that night while Mingi, on the other hand, was so insulted.
“You knew about this and didn’t tell me?!” he asked, feigning injury.
“I thought he told you! What do you want me to do about it?”
“Just check in with me next time! We should share everything with each other, Yunho.”
Yunho and Mingi continued to bicker in the background as you finally, finally, remembered what happened that night.
“Y/N, you’re home,” he said quietly while standing you upright. “Where are your keys?”
“In my pocket," you said with a slight giggle— the jeans you had on actually had front pockets, so you usually stashed your keys in there so you wouldn’t have to wear a purse when you had those jeans on.
With a sigh, Jongho carefully dug into your pocket, his fingers lightly grazing your upper thigh. You couldn’t help but let out a little moan; his action was so minimal and unintentional, but it still felt fucking good. God, you were definitely wasted.
Then, a crazy thought entered your drunken brain. You realized that you needed to thank Jongho for getting you home safe. Granted, it was his job as your best friend (not really, but what are friends for?) to make sure you made it home, but you still had to thank him, right? So, right after Jongho unlocked your door and opened it for you, you grabbed him by the collar, and you thanked him by kissing him.
To be honest, it was the world’s most anti-climactic kiss. Your lips just pressed against his, and that was it. When you moved away, you could see that Jongho was in complete shock, his jaw dropped slightly. His eyes were darting back and forth as he tried to decipher what the fuck you just did. His hands, which were previously on your shoulders, dropped to the side, limp.
That’s when you made the situation worse. You pulled him towards you again and kissed him properly. It was a gentle kiss, your lips enveloping his upper lip, your hand moving from his collar to his neck to make the kiss the slightest bit more sensual. And, to your surprise, you felt his hands on your waist. He reciprocated the kiss, bringing his body closer to yours as he kissed you more passionately. You were practically melting in his arms the longer he kissed you, your brain officially erroring out as you lost yourself in him.
When the chain of kisses ended, you found yourself dazed. You truly didn’t know what to say or do, so you just patted his chest and whispered, “I… Uh… Good night, Jongho…”
Jongho seemed unfazed, as if he wasn’t just making out with you seconds prior. He nodded and patted your head while responding, “Good night, Y/N. Sleep well.”
“Yeah, you too…”
Brain fuzzy, you crashed in your bed, your face still rosy and your lips slightly sore from kissing your best friend. Your best fucking friend.
You buried your face in your hands when you realized what you did, your mind chanting “what the fuck?” over and over again. You felt someone’s hand on your shoulder, but there was no way you were going to be consoled so easily.
“Y/N, don’t worry about it. It was a tiny mistake,” Hongjoong said softly. “We all know that you’re not usually like that.”
“I’m sick and tired of people telling me not to worry about it,” you groaned. “And being drunk is not an excuse… I… What do I do?”
The four of you were silent until Yunho said quietly, “I think you should just talk to him.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, just talk it through. You guys are best friends, and I don’t like seeing the two of you avoiding each other.”
“Wait,” your head snapped up. “What do you mean each other? I thought I was avoiding him…”
“Why do you think he’s not here right now?” Yunho pointed out.
You gaped. Trivia was about to start soon, and Jongho was nowhere in sight.
“Where is he?”
All you did was kiss the guy, but you felt the guilt weighing on your shoulders not just because of the kiss but because of everything else you did following the kiss. The guy was your best friend for crying out loud. If it was just the kiss, you would’ve apologized immediately, and all would’ve been well, but the dreams just made it so much harder for you to do anything— even knocking on his apartment door was fucking difficult.
You somehow mustered the courage to do it, and after a couple of seconds, Jongho answered the door. He was wearing his standard class outfit: jeans, a hoodie, and a jean jacket; but he looked so fucking hot, so boyfriend material in them, that your heart actually skipped a beat or two.
“Hey,” Jongho spoke first, pulling you out of your head before you could spiral into a dizzy daydream.
“H-Hey, uh… Can I come in?”
Holding the door open, Jongho invited you in. You walked in hesitantly, awkwardly. You’d been in his apartment so many Goddamn times, so you shouldn’t have been so timid, but your anxiety truly got the better of you.
The two of you ended up taking a seat at his tiny dining table, the man sitting across from you. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as you looked down and tried to spit out something, anything.
“So…” you finally uttered. “I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?” Jongho genuinely sounded confused.
“I got really drunk the other night—”
“Y/N, it’s fine. I told you not to worry about it.”
“No! It’s not fine, Jongho,” you shook your head. “I— I came onto you, which was totally not cool of me, and I’m really sorry for that. I don’t like that you’re uncomfortable around me, which is totally valid considering what I did, but like… You’re my best friend, and it’s so weird that we’re avoiding each other like this…”
“Wait… Huh?”
“What?”
“I didn’t think you remembered, which is why I told you to not worry about it,” Jongho explained.
“I mean, I didn’t at first, but then it came rushing back to me like just now at the bar after Yunho told me what I did, and God, I feel awful for doing that to you,” you rambled.
“Why do you feel awful?”
“Because I kissed you without consent…? Isn’t that why you were avoiding me?”
“That… That wasn’t nonconsensual, Y/N…” Jongho started mumbling as the tips of his ears turned red.
“What… Um, what do you mean, Jongho?” you asked in a small voice.
“I mean…”
Jongho pressed his lips together and looked away, his ears turning redder as he ran his fingers through his hair. The guy was embarrassed as fuck, but he still managed to look so attractive that it made your heart, and your cunt, clench hard. He left his hand on the back of his head as he brought his gaze back to you.
“I kissed you back…”
Your jaw dropped slightly. Stammering, you asked, “S-So… What, uh.. What does that mean?”
“That I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I like you. And I was avoiding you because… Well, I didn’t want you to know that I, uh, had feelings… For you…”
Your face erupted into flames. You looked straight down at your lap, your eyes darting back and forth as you tried to make sense of the situation. The two of you were absolutely silent as clouds of embarrassment and slight tension filled the room.
“Wait…” Jongho broke the silence. “So, if you just remembered, then why were you avoiding me?”
“O-Oh… Because…” you forced yourself to get the words out— knowing him, he wouldn’t let you go without a proper explanation, and there was no way you were going to be able to lie to him at that point. Plus, even if you didn’t tell him, Mingi was going to, and it was definitely better that you told him than your dumbass friend.
“Spit it out, Y/N,” Jongho said, his voice breaking you out of your trance.
“Right.. Because I, uh… I had a sex dream about you… And now I can’t… Not see you… In… That… Way…”
And with that, you buried your face in your hands, trying to extinguish the red on your face; you could practically feel steam leaving your ears because of how embarrassed you were.
Jongho, meanwhile, was completely taken aback, but in the best way possible. If you were dreaming about him in that sense, did that mean you liked him back? That the feelings were mutual? That the kiss actually meant something whether you realized it or not?
While you were dying of embarrassment, Jongho hugged you— he thought he was reassuring you, but it only made you more shy and a little turned on feeling the way he hugged you securely to his surprisingly firm yet soft chest (you hugged him all the fucking time, so why you were only noticing it now was a mystery to you). You were so ready to let out a squeal— more like a dying dolphin noise— of embarrassment when you felt him choke down a chuckle and start petting your hair. Goddammit, was he trying to drive you insane?
Luckily, Jongho didn’t push the topic further (yet). The embarrassment slowly died down, and when you felt your heart unclench, you timidly hugged him back, and once you calmed down enough, he let go of you. Then, he fucking made your heart skip a million beats when he brushed your hair out of your face and looked at you with the softest eyes you had ever seen on him. You had seen him with plenty of girlfriends in the past, but this was the first time you had ever seen him display so much affection— and for you, of all people.
At some point, the two of you migrated to his sofa where you were sipping on water on one end of the long sofa and he was sitting in the arm chair next to the sofa like a fucking king. You had to keep your eyes on your water because if you got even the tiniest glimpse of his thighs and the way he was manspreading, you would fully combust.
“Y/N,” Jongho asked, his voice softer than ever.
“Yes!” you sat up attentively. “I-I mean, yeah…?”
You for sure thought Jongho was going to laugh at your actions, but he didn’t. He looked like everything was normal, but his ears were bright red once again.
“So…” he started. “In this dream… What happened?”
You choked on your water. You knew he was going to ask at some point, but you didn’t think he would actually ask you. You set the cup of water down on the coffee table in front of you and sighed softly before explaining the dream to him.
And as you explained your dream to him, Jongho’s face didn’t change in the slightest. He took all of your words in and just kept nodding, making it a little easier for you to tell him. Finally, after you finished retelling your dream— you only told him the dream that started all because God forbid he ever found out about you touching yourself while thinking about him in your dreams— he nodded and said, “Oh, wow… Hopefully, I live up to the way you dream made me out to be… Well, only if you’re okay with that.”
You blinked and froze, the words slowly starting to sink in. Was he asking for consent? Oh my God, did he want to fuck you?!
Without realizing it, you nodded slowly, your body taking over your mind. Then, you whispered, “I’d… I’d like to experience it for real…” giving him the verbal consent that he wanted.
Jongho held out his hand, willing you to hold it. He tugged your hand to make you get up and stand before him, and before you knew it, you were straddling him, your ass pressing against his knees. He was looking up at you with the softest, sparkliest eyes that you’d ever seen on him, making your heart skip a beat but in a way that was different from the way your wet dream version of him did.
With one hand on your back and the other weaving his fingers through your hair, Jongho led your head to meet his, his lips pressing against yours softly. He kissed you slowly, passionately. You were holding onto his shoulders at first, only for you to move your hand to his face and cup his cheek, the kisses deepening, your tongue slipping into his mouth as you felt your body slowly start to heat up.
His hands moved from your hair and back to your thighs, the palms of his hands rubbing against your clothed thighs so slowly and sensually that electricity zapped through all of your nerves. He let out little gasps and groans in between your kisses, his fingers pressing into your thighs when you tugged upwards on his lower lip.
Jongho was a lot more calculative with his actions in real life than in your dreams. His hands trailed from your thighs to around your butt, only to rest on the small of your back, his fingers teasing you by tugging at the waistband of your pants but not actually moving them down. You whined lightly against his lips, your hands gripping the collar of his jean jacket to get him to stop teasing you and start stripping both you and him down.
What sold him on moving faster was not the threat of your grip, but the way you were rolling your hips into him, the slightest movement making the bulge in his pants grow bigger and tighter; and it certainly did not help when you ran your fingers along his neck, one finger lingering on the little mole on his neck.
His intensity increased immediately. His hands went under your thighs and shifted you so that you were straddling only one of his thighs. He pushed down on your waist so that you were fully sitting on his thigh before running his hands up your shirt, his fingers brushing along the sensitive spots on your back.
The two of you only stopped kissing when you forced him to take off his jacket and when he helped you get out of your shirt, his eyes scanning your body as you tossed the shirt to the side.
“W-What? What is it?” you whispered, suddenly self-conscious and slightly reluctant to take your bra off.
“You’re stunning, Y/N,” he breathed out, his hands tracing the curve of your waist.
The compliment made you all sorts of shy all over again, making you bury your face in the nook of his neck. Jongho used that opportunity to unhook your bra, the straps slipping off your shoulders the second the band released. You ended up slipping the bra off, leaving your entire torso exposed. You felt the blush on your face get more intense when his hands and lips roamed your body, the man’s eyelashes fluttering as he left tiny, soft kisses along your skin.
Your hips resumed rolling, your clothed cunt rubbing along his thigh as his hands cupped and clutched your breasts. His hands kneaded your breasts continuously as he left little pink marks along your collarbone, chest, cleavage; and finally, when his mouth found your nipples, his hands moved back to your ass and held the underside of your ass securely as he sucked and nibbled on your tit.
“Jongho!” you cried as you flung your head back. “I— Angh— I—!”
You couldn’t form a single thought the second he started moving the waistband of your pants down. The only thing you could do was forcibly move his head up so that he was forced to look into your eyes, his dark hair covering his sparkling eyes slightly.
“I want you to fuck me already,” you whispered— more like whimpered— while grasping the collar of his shirt.
Wordlessly and effortlessly, Jongho stood up with you in his arms, your legs automatically wrapping around him as he carried you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed gently before starting to slowly remove his own clothes.
It was dark in his room, but thanks to the moonlight and the lights from the city, you were able to see his muscles and toned body reveal themselves as the clothes came off, and when he took off his pants, you saw that his cock, his girthy cock, was impatient and ready to go— you couldn’t even imagine the amount of self-restraint he was using if his cock was that red and angry.
Jongho turned to his nightstand and produced a condom. He tore the packet open and tossed it somewhere before rolling the condom on and getting on the bed next to you.
“C’mere,” he whispered as he laid down.
Soon, you were straddling him once more, your wet cunt hovering above his erect cock. At first, you thought he was going to ask you to ride him, but instead, he pulled your arms down so that you were essentially pinning him down, his lips making contact with yours as your chest pressed against his. His fingers ran through your hair and held the back of your head as he pushed your face closer to his, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth.
You were so distracted by his tongue dancing with yours that you didn’t even realize his hands moved to your ass and his cock, lining up your entrance with the tip before pushing you down slowly, the girth of his cock spreading you so wide that you thought you were going to tear.
You cried against his mouth as he filled you up, your ass pressing against his thighs as he remained still inside you. Your walls clenched tightly around his fat cock, making him sharply inhale in between kisses, a little grunt escaping him shortly thereafter.
After a couple of seconds, you were able to relax your pussy just enough to start moving comfortably, your ass slapping his waist lightly as you moved your waist up and down. You moved slowly and gently at first as you moaned against Jongho’s lips, your chest rubbing against his, your nipples getting more sore by the second.
But, you were going a little too slow for the man underneath you. His hands, still on your ass, held onto you tightly as his waist jerked upwards. Your ass slapped against his waist so hard that the sound echoed in the room, and it felt so fucking good that your lips left Jongho’s so you could cry out in pleasure.
Jongho wanted to hear those cries more, so he continued to ram his waist upwards, and as he did so, he moved your ass so that he was continuously rubbing against your G-spot, making your orgasm arrive way sooner than you expected. You moaned loudly and dropped your head into the nook of his neck as you came, your cunt creaming around his dick.
You were panting heavily as Jongho sat up, his cock still deep inside you. Yet, he didn’t move. You remained seated on his lap as he gave you a second to recover and blink the stars out of your eyes as he moved his lips to your neck, peppering small kisses along your soft skin. His arms wrapped around you, his fingers pressing lightly into your waist and back, his nails tickling you ever so slightly. You rested your arms on his shoulders and let out euphoric sighs as he kissed you all over, leaving the occasional pink mark on your skin as he worked his way around the blank canvas of your body.
He started leaning into you the more he kissed you until he had you pinned to the bed. He was hovering above you when your back settled into the mattress, his hands laid flat right above your shoulders. The two of you just stared at each other, your mouths slightly open as you breathed in unison. Jongho’s hair was covering his eyes slightly, but you could still see them sparkle as he gazed into your eyes. His soft touch brushed against your temple as he moved your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear before cupping your face and kissing your lips lightly, a small smile appearing on his face.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and brought him closer to you, your lips yearning for him to kiss you more deeply, more passionately; and your waist shifted slightly and impatiently as you waited for him to fuck you. The second he locked lips with you again, his hips gyrated into yours, the light slaps of your waist meeting his filling the room.
Jongho’s pace slowly started speeding up, and the intensity of his thrusts increased exponentially as your cunt started taking the shape of his cock. Your insides started heating up to the point where you thought the friction was going to start a fire within you, and every time his waist rammed into yours with a satisfying slap, you let out a gasp mixed with a moan, your head pushing back further into the mattress.
Your legs wrapped around his waist completely, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. Jongho kept gasping your name softly as his orgasm neared, the melodic sound of your name leaving his lips making your body tingle all over and your toes curl. You hugged him even closer to you so that his chest was against yours and his nose was rubbing against the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Jongho gasped as you clenched around him.
You bit your lower lip and nodded, stars reappearing in your vision. Just seeing you bite your lower lip was enough for him. Jongho snapped his hips into yours with such force that made you cum hard, your walls fluttering as your arousal squirted out. Jongho, meanwhile, also came, his cock twitching as his cum filled the condom.
As you recovered from your high, Jongho pulled out and removed the condom before stroking himself a couple more times, ropes of cum decorating your torso as he finished completely on you, a groan of pleasure and relief rumbling in his chest. Then, wordlessly, he got off the bed and disappeared into his apartment.
You were able to push yourself up by the time Jongho returned with towels and water. He handed you the glass, and you took tiny sips of the water as you watched him wipe you down.
“Tell me something,” he said to you. “Was that as good as your dream?”
Jongho looked up at you as he waited for you to respond. So, you cupped his face and led him towards you to leave a lingering kiss on his lips.
“No, it was better.”
You thought you would be waking up from another dream, but no. This time, when you woke up, you woke up to see your best friend’s sleeping face right in front of yours, his soft features relaxed and beautiful. He looked so peaceful, so pretty while sleeping that it kind of made you jealous that he could look like fucking Sleeping Beauty.
You shifted slightly, immediately making the sleeping man hug you closer to his bare chest, his soft skin making you shiver slightly. And when you felt his gentle exhale flit past your ear before he buried his nose in your hair, every single nerve in your body tingled happily.
As Jongho continued to sleep, you observed him, your eyes landing on the little freckle on his neck. You absentmindedly traced your nail along it lightly, tickling him and subsequently waking him up.
“Mmm, good morning,” he uttered, his low morning voice echoing in your ear.
You’d had many sleepovers with him in the past, and you’d heard his morning voice many, many times in the past, but having him talk right into your ear like that was too sexy, too stimulating for you that early in the morning, your heart and cunt fluttering.
“Good morning, Jongho,” you whispered back.
Hugging you even closer, Jongho let out a happy exhale before leaving the faintest of kisses on your temple, making your heart skip and making you realize that you were falling for him.
⤷ In which y/n makes a big mistake in her case and captain yunho finds a suitable punishment.
[yunho x fem!reader] warnings: smut minors dni 18+ , Police AU, hard dom!yunho, name calling, degradation, choking, cuff play, fingering, oral m!receiving & f!receiving, boss x employee dynamic, overstimulation, p in v, aftercare, unprotected sex. wc 3,596
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"Report back to your precinct captain l/n, let him know you've kept another wanted criminal on the streets" Lee Wooseok -your commanding officer- looks down at you with disapproving eyes. He shakes his head, keeping his hands in his vest as he turns towards his team that avoids eye contact.
"Yes sir" Your voice is barely above a whisper and clearly laced with guilt.
This is the second criminal associated with Koreas highest ranking cartel you've let slip between your fingers. It was left up to you to chase him through an abandoned chemical plant as the rest of your squad wandered around with their fingers up their asses.
Alas you head towards your detective car and slump in the driver seat. Captain Jeong was most likely alerted of your mistake and is waiting in his dimly lit office to scold you. It's become routine at this point.
Your car purposely doesn't go faster than thirty miles per hour in hopes to delay the punishment.
Captain Jeong Yunho was a strict captain, he always went by the codes and even a little slip up could get you suspended for a week. He was a hard man to please but god his looks make up for it.
Tall with broad shoulders, an assertive look that could make any weak man fall to their knees, you've never once seen him smile in a non-cocky way. He knew how to lead and control his unit.
Your boots click against the linoleum floors as you walk past the night crew who clicked their way across their keyboards, working on useless petty cases. Nothing compared to the work you did.
The heat started to rise in your neck as you knocked on the captains door.
"Come in l/n"
fuck he's really pissed.
You push the door open while keeping your eyes on the floor.
His office was dark, only his desk lamp illuminating the space around him. He sat leaning back in his chair, the top few buttons of his shirt are undone and his hair is messy. Clearly he's been stressing over something. Me.
"Eyes up detective"
Your eyes shoot up to the disheveled man. His face is stern and he's looking over his glasses. The pen clicks in his hand while the room stays silent and heavy with tension.
"I'm sorry capt-"
"Did I tell you to speak?"
Your explanation is abruptly cut off as he slams the pen on his desk. Your body tremors in fear and... excitement? You know you're attracted to your captain but it strengthens with his assertiveness.
He gets up from his chair and moves to lean on his desk right in front of you.
"Close the blinds" he demands.
A few of the night crew are looking through the glass, probably trying to lip read his every word to gossip with the day shift.
"You know, with this extent of a mistake, I ought to suspend you and take your gun and badge"
"Sir please I-" You turn from the window with pleading eyes. You can't afford to be suspended this deep into the case. You can't have another detective take credit for all the word you already achieved.
"Enough" He shouts.
Yunho stands from his position on the desk and towers over you. His eyes scold you through his dark hair.
"This is the second biggest fuck up you have done in this case. First it was letting their consigliere know about this case, and now you lose their underboss Seonghwa in a fucking chemical plant" His voice raises with every word making you turn your head to the side in shame.
"I'm starting to think you're working for those mafia scums"
A cold sweat falls beneath your leather jacker causing you to fidget in discomfort. Yunho's hand reaches for your detective badge hanging from the band of your jeans. He pulls it, lurching you forward against his chest.
"You should honour this badge, you know I value loyalty and someone who follows the rules" His voice is low and beating against your ear.
"Can I just explain" You murmured into his shoulder.
"You can try" Yunho lets go of the badge and rests against the desk with folded arms.
"The team I was assigned with are a bunch of useless idiots"
His hand raises stopping you from furthering the explanation.
"Be respectful to your peers"
You huff a sigh of frustration and you swear it makes him smirk but he covers it quickly with his signature deadpan.
"The team I was assigned to work with didn't follow my orders, leaving me to chase Seonghwa alone. A clear mastermind like himself needs more than just a detective chasing after him" You inhale deeply ignoring the clear aching between your thighs.
The way he leans against that desk with his large veiny hands clamped around the wooden edge gave you some unprofessional thoughts.
He stays silent expecting you to continue but the anger filling to your throat stops you from speaking.
"Is that all" he questions, folding his arms again and staring directly into your frustration filled eyes.
"No" You choke and clench your fists so tight you can feel your nails pierce through the skin of your palm. "I'm sick of being undermined just because I'm a female detective"
Yunho gets up again and towers over your frame. The feeling in your stomach is sick and it worsens when his hand holds his waist.
"The men on that team think their better just because they hold a bigger gun, my commands go in one ear and out the other" Your throat contracts in a gulp as your eyes stay trained to the desk behind him.
His rough fingers lift your chin to look him in the eyes. "I'll be sure to get your orders across" His left hand massages your waist while his right trails down to your neck.
"What are you doing?" Your voice vibrates against his hand making him hum. The hand on your waist feels heavier as his grip tightens causing your back to arch further into him.
"You didn't think you'd get away with this unpunished" He looks your body up and down like a predator who caught his prey.
Your throat lets out an involuntary moan which pleases your captain.
"Although you don't seem to be suffering enough to call this a punishment" His voice is low and close to a growl. He frees you from his hands and moves behind you to push your frame against his desk.
Your hips sting with the strong contact of the wood but it soon numbs over when he presses his hard cock against your ass.
"I've been waiting for an excuse to live out this fantasy" His hand wraps around your tight ponytail and tugs, his voice remains low and seductive. There doesn't seem to be a way out of this but excitement masks the fear running through your veins.
"The way you walk around this precinct swaying your hips and ordering people around, I can see it's nothing but a facade" His lips move against your ear, your mouth falls open at the sensation. "Your nothing but a submissive little slut waiting to be bent over a desk" His free hand falls to palm your ass roughly. "And look where you are now" He chuckles.
"Right where I belong" You moan pressing your ass further into his crotch begging for him to touch you.
"Watch it" he warns holding you tighter against the desk. "I should treat you like a dirty criminal, leave you in cuffs to watch me touch what you want the most"
You whimper, begging to be touched by his long fingers. your thighs clench together to creat some sort of friction against your cunt.
"Cuff me captain"
Yunho wastes no time by grabbing the handcuffs from your waistband and clamping them against your wrists. He pulls you up by the chain connecting them together and leads you to sit in his desk chair.
He kicks the chair with enough force to send you flying into his shelves of awards and books. A few fall to the floor with a clatter, luckily his awards stayed heavy in their place.
You gasp as he swipes his desk clean of papers, he turns slowly and looks down at you through his lenses. "Now, tell me how you've fucked up this case" His voice drops further as his hands finds the buckle of his belt.
You swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth and let your lips fall apart, your eyes never leave his working hands, watching as he slides off his belt.
"Speak l/n" he growls and halts his movements causing you to dart your eyes up to meet his.
"I-I got to close with an informant and lost very important information on the case because I drank too much at the bar"
His left hand palms his dick through his jeans while his right hand works to unbutton and unzip his fly.
Your words get stuck in your throat as he pulls out his hard cock. It’s perfectly veiny and big enough to make your mouth water.
“Y/n” he barks your name while his hand wraps around his length.
Your bottom lip clings between your teeth as you stare at his dripping cock. Yunho rubs over his red pulsing tip as he stares at your lustful stare.
"Continue talking or you don't get what you want" his voice was low and teasing as he continued to massage his tip.
"Uhm the consigliere..." your words wander away as your attention is solely on his throbbing cock. "He disappeared"
"Disappeared?" he questioned, it was obvious your brain had turned to mush and you couldn't string a proper sentence together.
"Yeah, he walked out. It doesn't matter! Just put it in my mouth, please" Your eyes connect with his that are filled with satisfaction.
It was frustrating not getting what you want and the pool in your panties was begging to be let out. Quickly you dragged the chair your in towards him, lining you up with his cock.
"Please, I wont fuck up again" Your tongue kitten licks the slit on his tip making him jolt.
He slaps his cock against your cheeks and the corners of your mouth teasingly before resting it on your lower lip, allowing your tongue to taste his dripping precum.
"Make your captain proud" He growls again and watches as you waste no time to grip the base of his cock and shove his tip deep into your mouth.
His hand grips the back of your head, lacing his fingers between the not so neatly slicked back ponytail. You moan at the sensation of his fingers and cant wait to feel them deep inside you.
He moans with his head flying back and his hips bucking towards your mouth. "Such a fucking cockslut, you couldn't wait to get me in your mouth"
You hum in response before flattening your tongue against the underside of his cock and dragging it to his tip where you suck and lick his slit.
His cock pulls out with a sultry pop. "Fuck my face captain, I know you want to" You whispered as you got onto your knees and hung your tongue as far out your mouth as possible.
He chuckles roughly and pulls your head back by your ponytail. "Your so desperate to be used as my little toy, hmm?"
"Yes" you whispered again while keeping your eyes trained on his dominant and hungry eyes.
He slams his cock so deep into your throat that you gag around him. He smirks as the tears gather up in your eyes because of the way he repeatedly hits that spot.
His dick pulls in and out and without fail your throat clenches around him.
Your hair is surly a horrible mess by the way he grips it and pulls you around like a doll. This is what you always wanted, your body basically begged for the captain to set you straight with his heavy cock.
Yunho moans and thrusts one more time before he unfolds right in front of you, his dick is pulled out and the cum strings across your face like a blank canvas.
His heavy breathing takes over the room as he falls back onto his desk and watches as you desperately lick around your mouth to collect his seed.
"Need some help doll?" His hand drags across your face scooping up his cum before feeding it into your mouth.
His fingers where wet and salty as you sucked hard and licked between his fingers.
"Get up" His fingers slide out your mouth with string of spit connecting the both of you.
Your knees are numb and your legs had long turned to jelly from sitting on them for so long.
Yunho admires your face like a piece of art work using his hand to push back the hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.
"Lets see what kind of mess the detective has left between her legs" Yunho drops to his knees and pulls down your jeans to reveal your soaked white panties. His finger trails against your folds and holds it up to reveal the glossiness. "Absolutely soaked for me hmm" he licks the mess from his finger before trailing it against the hem.
"And you wore such nice lacey underwear, it's almost like you anticipated this" He stands to remove his glasses and place them on your face.
The room blurred with his prescription but you could see him lower to your hips. His breath hits your heat teasingly and your wrists struggle in the cuffs.
You feel your panties being pulled to the side and his tongue slide between your slick folds. Your head falls back at the feeling and your hands beg to grab his hair. "Oh my god" your voice drags on with lust.
He flicks your clit with his tongue and inserts his finger into your hole without warning. It makes you gasp and lose your balance but Yunhos hand tightly grips your thigh to keep you in place.
The sounds of the cuffs rattle behind you as you attempt to break free. He sucks your clit in response making your legs go completely weak. He pushes you back into the desk chair and spreads your legs.
The sound of scratching leather fills the room and it was obvious the cuffs were serving as the true punishment. All you wanted to do was run your hands through his hair and pull him closer.
"Right there, mmmoh my god" Your back arches into the chair and you spread your legs further to give him more access to your vagina.
Yunho inserts a second finger and picks up the pace of his thrusts, in and out at an ungodly speed that drove you insane.
"Mmm I'm gonna cum, fuck" Your legs start to tremble and your chin makes contact with your chest.
He continues to finger fuck you, curling at the perfect spot to hit exactly where you want.
"Cum for me" He orders between your legs, not stopping his skilled tongue that circles around your throbbing clit.
Your lip finds its way between your teeth to muffle the loud moans coming from your throat, although the fear of everyone outside hearing you only fuelled the adrenaline pumping through your veins.
Your cum spills into his mouth and he licks it up like his favourite meal, but he doesn't stop there. His lips latch around your clit again and sucks even harder than before.
You squirm and struggle to move your hips away from his lips making him grip your hips to stop you from moving.
The feeling starts to overstimulate you and you feel a second orgasm forming in your stomach. "Fuck Yunho, I'm going to cum again" The feeling is elevated this time only making you squirm further.
He pulls away from your clit and replaces it with his hand. "You really thought this was just a bit of fun? I'm going to ruin you and make you walk out of here crawling on your knees" His voice only sped up the process of your second orgasm.
This time you couldn't muffle your loud moans as your squirt soaks his face. It splashes to the ground and you sink into the chair in exhaustion. You'd never been able to squirt before and it came as a shock seeing his face and hair wet from it.
His glasses fell down your nose as he got up and wiped his face with his shirt. "Don't relax now, your not done"
He pulls you up by your shirt and bends you over his desk. Your cheek lays smushed against the wood as you tried to catch your breath.
"Ruin me captain" The words came out sounding weak and close to a whisper.
"Don't worry, I was planning on it" His dick slams into your cunt like it was nothing, thanks to your arousal.
His cock stretches you out perfectly making you gasp in pain and pleasure. He waits a second for you to adjust before thrusting in and out.
"Your so fucking tight for me" he moans and grips your ass, you could feel his nails sinking into your skin and it was certain it would leave a mark.
"Only for you" You moan.
He grips the cuffs and pulls you up and your back hits his chest. He bites your shoulder through your shirt while his other hand massages your breast.
Your mouth falls open and you could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"Choke me captain" Your head rests against his chest to stretch your neck out for him to grab.
His hand squeezes your exposed throat to close your airways. You groan at the feeling of blood rushing to your head and moan when he loosens his grip to let you breath.
"Your so fucking hot" His dick pounds into your vagina hitting your cervix from the angle. "Exactly what I want"
He reaches around and rubs your clit at a pace so fast it could send you over the edge completely.
Your clit is so overstimulated and your body is flushed with hot sweats. You've never been fucked like this before and it's clearly taking a toll on you. If it wasn't for his grip holding you up, you'd fall flat on the desk like a dead fish.
You clench around his dick at the feeling of your orgasm rising. "I'm going to cum again" you whined and clenched his shirt in your chained up hands.
"Cum for me baby, let me feel you spill around my cock"
With his approval you let your orgasm take over for a third time and release all over his already wet cock. It doesn't stop his unforgiving pace as he chased his own orgasm.
The sexual noises leaving his lips circle around the room and it was obvious he wasn't trying to hide what he was doing to you in his office.
Dicking you down against the desk he works on everyday without shame, knowing theres a precinct full of working officers behind his door.
His hips stutter and it was obvious he was about to cum. You clench around his dick to speed up the process which makes him moan louder and grip your ass harder.
"Fuck" His cum fills you up and you feel him ride out his orgasm. You smiled to yourself tiredly, knowing you got him to completion.
He pulls out slowly and reaches for his side drawer to pull out a towel. He uses it to clean up your folds and down your inner thighs.
"Are you okay?" His voice was softer now and less demanding like before.
"I'm tired" You mumble against his desk, your legs feel numb and achey from the three orgasms you experienced.
Yunho unlocks the cuffs around your wrists and gently rubs them to sooth the ache.
"That'll probably leave a mark, make sure to put some cream on them when your home"
The cuffs fall onto the desk beside your chest and you can hear his belt being redone.
Your whole body felt heavy and tired. It wasn't likely you could get up easily.
Yunho pulls up your panties and jeans before pulling you up to stand straight.
"You were so good" He kissed your cheek and pushed back your hair. He sits down in his desk chair and pulls you back into his lap.
"Thank you, I've always wanted to be cuffed" You smirk lazily with your forehead leaning on the crook of his neck.
"Don't tell me that's why you became a detective?" He chuckles at his obviously incorrect statement.
"And to solve crime" You shake your head and try to stop your eyes from closing.
"Sit up, I'll fix your hair" You sit up and move between his legs to let him smooth back your hair. "I won't actually make you crawl out of my office but unfortunately you'll have to walk past the night shift" You shrug and continue to enjoy his hands running through your hair.
"Their opinions don't matter to me" You look back at Yunho over your shoulder and smile.
"Me neither" His lips find yours in a quick peck before you stand with regained strength and grab your cuffs to reattach them to your jeans. "See you tomorrow, captain"
Yunho scoffs and watches you leave through his office door, excited for your arrival the next day.
summary: in which your boyfriend’s best friend wakes up and watches
warning: possessive dom yunho, sub mingi, sub reader, unprotected sex, oral, squirting, masturbation, overstimulation, choking, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, creampie
genre: smut
pairing: idol yunho x afab reader x idol mingi
word count: 4.4k
masterlist
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The hotel room was dim, lit only by the faint amber glow of the city lights bleeding in through the curtains. The hum of traffic far below was a low lull, and Mingi had been out cold for nearly an hour, one arm flung over his head, mouth parted slightly in deep sleep.
You were lying on your side, facing Yunho, your knees barely brushing beneath the sheets. You felt his fingers first, light at your waist, then his breath, warm, sweet with sleep as he leaned in close. “Baby,” he whispered, his voice thick and low, heavy with need, “you’re killing me.”
You whispered back, amused, “He’s right there.” Yunho glanced over your shoulder. Mingi was a statue. If statues snored. “It’s just Mingi,” he said, fingers sliding beneath your shirt, his touch feather light. “Even if he did wake up… he’d probably just turn over and go back to sleep.”
“Or watch,” you muttered under your breath, teasing, joking, half testing him which made Yunho’s dark eyes flick up to yours, slow and heated. “Would that bother you?” he murmured, pressing closer, his hand slipping lower now, to your hip. “If he did?” Your breath caught. “You’d be so quiet for me, wouldn’t you?” he said, voice lower now, lips brushing your ear. “So good.” His fingers moved again, slipping between your thighs now, barely touching, just enough to make your whole body ache as his fingers trailed slow and deliberate down the curve of your hip, barely brushing beneath the waistband of your shorts.
“Turn over,” he murmured, voice husky against your temple. You blinked, breath stalling. “What?” He nuzzled closer, lips skimming your cheek, your jaw. “On your stomach,” he whispered. “It’ll be quieter.” You swallowed hard, eyes flicking toward Mingi’s sleeping form. He hadn’t moved an inch, blanket tangled at his waist, mouth slightly open. Dead to the world. Still… “Yunho…” His hand slid lower, palm heavy as it squeezed your ass beneath the sheets. “You’ll keep your face in the pillow, and I won’t let the bed move.” His voice dipped even deeper, dark and slow like honey. “I’ll fuck you slow, baby. You just have to be good for me.”
You hated how fast your body responded, heat pooling between your legs, your breath already shaky. “But….”
“Do you trust me?”
Your heart thudded as you nodded.
“Then turn over.”
The sheets rustled softly as you rolled onto your stomach, cheek pressed into the cool pillowcase. Your pulse fluttered as Yunho eased the covers down your body, his hand dragging them slowly off your back and your hips. He bent low, lips pressing to your spine. “So quiet for me,” he murmured, kissing a trail down your back. “So good…” his hand slid back up your spine, this time bunching the oversized shirt you wore, his shirt, higher and higher until it was caught just beneath your breasts so he could lean over you, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades, the weight of his body sinking deliciously against yours.
You felt him shift behind you, the unmistakable brush of him thick and hard, pressing between your thighs as he lined himself up. “I missed this,” he breathed, dragging the tip of his dick through your folds once… twice… before he pushed forward, slow, achingly slow and you gasped because you couldn’t help it as he filled you, the stretch so deep and perfect that your mouth parted in a soft, helpless moan.
Yunho froze for a second, buried inside you to the hilt before he chuckled low under his breath, his lips at your ear. “Baby…” he murmured, amusement laced with warning. “You trying to wake him up?” You whimpered into the pillow, biting your lip as he pulled out just enough to make you ache, then slid back in slow, grinding his hips against you with a low exhale. “I said quiet,” he whispered, his hand slipping beneath your shirt to palm your breast, fingers teasing your nipple until you were trembling. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
You nodded into the pillow, your hands clutching the sheets as he started to move again, deep, slow thrusts that lit fire across every nerve. “You feel too good not to be loud,” he teased, his voice smug now, hips rolling smoother, harder. “But you don’t want Mingi to know how good I’m fucking you, do you?” Another quiet moan slipped out and Yunho grinned. “Thought so.”
You whimpered as he buried himself deeper. Every slow thrust had your body trembling beneath him, your legs spread just wide enough under the sheets to let him move the way he wanted, deliberate, controlled and deep. His hand remained curled under your shirt, cupping your breast, fingers rolling your nipple until your hips jerked back into him like muscle memory and another moan slipped from your lips, soft, breathy and desperate. And then Yunho’s hand moved. Smooth and sudden, he slid it from your breast up to your mouth, covering it gently but firmly.
“Shhh,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear, voice a slow whisper of smoke. “I told you to be quiet.” Your eyes fluttered shut. The weight of his body behind you, the heat of his hand over your mouth, the slow press of his dick filling you again and again, it was too much, too good, too risky. And across the room, Mingi shifted in the other bed making Yunho go still immediately, still buried inside you, hand frozen over your mouth. The only sound was the hum of the AC and the thunder in your ears.
Then… nothing. Mingi just turned over, muttered something incoherent in his sleep, and settled back into steady, oblivious breathing as Yunho leaned down, his chest against your back now, voice low and sinful. “Told you,” he whispered, lips curving into a smirk against your skin. “Even if he did wake up, he’d just go back to sleep.” But he didn’t pull his hand away. If anything, he pressed it firmer against your mouth, his other hand gripping your hip as he began to move again, slower, deeper thrusts that dragged along every inch of you.
He fucked you like he had all night, like his best friend wasn’t sleeping just a few feet away. Every time you gasped, he gave you a warning squeeze. Every time your body tightened around him, he whispered praise against your neck. “You’re so good for me,” he murmured, his pace never faltering. “So quiet, even when I know you wanna scream.”
Yunho’s thrusts stayed slow, but they’d grown heavier, more intentional. His hand stayed wrapped over your mouth, palm damp with the soundless moans you kept trying not to let out. The other was anchored at your hip now, keeping you in place, guiding every roll of his hips into yours with precision. He was breathing harder now, quiet exhales brushing your shoulder as he bent over you, his chest pressing to your back, his dick dragging deep with each measured thrust. And you didn’t hear it. You didn’t see it. But Yunho did.
A shift across the room. A faint creak of mattress springs. A sudden absence of snoring. Yunho glanced up from the curve of your spine, eyes lifting just over your shoulder toward the other bed and froze. Mingi. Eyes half lidded, face barely visible in the shadows. Awake and watching. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared across the dark room, one hand resting under the covers, the other loosely curled by his face. His expression was unreadable, half asleep or maybe just mesmerized, but he made no effort to look away.
And Yunho held the stare. His lips curled into the faintest smirk as he gave one slow, deliberate thrust, his hips grinding into you just enough to make your eyes roll back, a soft whimper muffled against his hand. You didn’t notice the shift. Didn’t notice the way Yunho’s attention was split now, half on you, half on his best friend watching silently from the dark as he bent lower again, lips brushing your ear. “You’re doing so good,” he whispered, voice silk and fire. “Being so quiet for me.”
And then, eyes still locked on Mingi’s, he thrust again, deeper this time and Mingi’s fingers twitched beneath the sheet making Yunho’s grin deepen. But you? You were too far gone, blissfully unaware, face buried in the pillow, body arching back into every punishingly slow stroke as Yunho licked his lips, gaze never breaking because he knew exactly what he was doing. He didn’t look away. Not when Mingi’s eyes stayed on him. Not when the blanket over Mingi shifted just slightly, just enough to catch the movement of his hand sliding lower beneath the sheets.
He watched. Controlled. Kept his rhythm steady. All while you writhed beneath him, unaware that your entire body had become a private performance. For him. And now for Mingi as well. You whimpered again, eyes squeezed shut, back arching helplessly against the slow, possessive drag of Yunho’s dick inside you. His hand was still over your mouth, his other gripping your hip so tight it would bruise by morning. His breath hitched once as he watched the outline of Mingi’s hand begin to move, slow and steady, under the blanket.
Yunho’s lips brushed your ear again, voice low, but there was something else behind it now. A sharpness. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he whispered, just loud enough for both of you to hear. “So wet for me… always so ready.” You let out a muffled moan, head turning toward the pillow, desperate and overstimulated as Yunho’s gaze flicked back to Mingi. Still watching. Still moving under the sheets, hand clearly wrapped around his own dick. Good.
Without warning, Yunho slowly pulled out of you. You whimpered in protest, wriggling your hips back toward him, but he was already moving, shifting, rolling you onto your back with careful hands making You blink up at him, dazed. “Yunho?” He shushed you with a kiss, slow and soft, one hand brushing your hair out of your face. “Shhh. Want to see you.” Before you could answer, his hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open, lifting your legs up, bending them at the knees and hooking them over his broad shoulders.
You gasped. The stretch. The angle. The intimacy of it. Was almost overwhelming as he pushed back in making your hands fly to your mouth, eyes wide as his dick slid back inside you with one slow, perfect thrust. Yunho groaned, quiet but guttural, his eyes never leaving yours. His grip on your thighs tightened, jaw flexing as he pulled almost all the way out and pushed in again, deeper, smoother, harder. “You’re so tight like this,” he rasped. “So fucking perfect.”
You could barely breathe, barely think, caught between the sweet stretch and the shameful thrill of getting fucked just feet away from your boyfriend’s best friend. But he wasn’t sleeping. Mingi’s eyes were wide now, the blanket tugged a little higher up his chest as his hand moved steadily beneath it. He was panting, trying to stay silent, trying not to move the bed. And Yunho was watching every second of it like it was his own personal reward. He looked back down at you, smiling through grit teeth. “Look at you,” he whispered. “Trying so hard not to scream for me.”
You bit your lip hard. Your whole body was coiled tight, legs trembling where they hung over his shoulders, your nails digging into the sheets. And Yunho leaned down, folding you in half more, driving even deeper as his voice dropped to a murmur, for your ears alone. But his eyes stayed on Mingi. “You’re mine.” He murmured against your skin, his voice rough, ragged, but controlled just like everything else about him.
You moaned, quiet and ruined, your hands gripping the sheets like you were trying to stay grounded. And then he grinned. That crooked, dangerous grin he only wore when he knew he had all the power. “And my best friend,” he whispered, dipping closer, his lips brushing your jaw as his voice dropped to a low, amused purr, “is getting himself off to us right now.”
Your eyes flew open. “WHAT?” You tried to turn your head, but Yunho caught your jaw, holding it gently, kissing the corner of your mouth like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in your chest. “Mmm mmm,” he murmured, voice like velvet sin. “Eyes on me, baby.” And then he started to really move. Not slow this time. Not soft. He drove into you with one powerful thrust, then another, his hips slamming against the back of your thighs with each stroke, the angle hitting so deep it had your mouth falling open in a silent cry.
“Now you’re being loud,” he groaned, burying himself to the hilt. “What happened to being quiet for me, huh?” You whimpered, blinking through tears as your entire body rocked beneath him as he leaned down again, pressing your legs further up, deeper inside you now, your body stretching around him, made to take him like this. “Can’t help it?” he cooed, taunting, lips curling against your cheek. “Knowing he’s over there watching me fuck you like this?”
You finally turned your head and saw Mingi. His eyes blown wide, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling fast as he sat halfway up in bed now, one hand fisted under the covers, the other braced behind him. He looked wrecked. Desperate. Guilty and aroused all at once. And the sight of it made you choke on a gasp as Yunho kept moving, dragging a hand down your body, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he pounded into you. “Don’t stop now,” he groaned, kissing the corner of your mouth. “He’s already seen everything.”
Yunho was a man possessed now, hips driving into you like he was chasing a high he knew only you could give him. Your thighs trembled where they clung to his shoulders, every stroke sending waves of heat rippling through your core. You were clenching so hard around him, gasping with every thrust, your fingers tangled in the sheets like they were the only thing keeping you tethered. He felt it. He knew you were close. And so did Mingi who was still perched in bed, frozen but visibly falling apart, his chest rising and falling fast beneath his tank top, eyes locked on where Yunho was splitting you open.
Yunho turned his head just slightly, lips parted in a breathless smirk. Then, without warning he ripped the blanket off the both of you and yossed it aside like it was in the damn way. The room was dark, but not dark enough. The lights outside bled just enough silver through the curtains to illuminate your slick thighs, the glossy mess coating Yunho’s length every time he pulled out, and the way your soaked pussy clung to him like a vice, starting to squirt as he kept rutting, pounding into you, grunting, digging his fingers into your waist and slamming into you again, harder, deeper, and your body snapped.
You arched, crying out. And then you broke. A wave of liquid shot out of you, soaking Yunho’s lower stomach, the sheets beneath you, everything. “Fuck,” Yunho hissed, head tipping back as he felt you squirt fully around him, your body twitching violently with the force of it. He looked straight at Mingi, his voice smug, breathless, and absolutely filthy. “She always does that when I fuck her just right,” he groaned. “Makes the prettiest fucking mess.”
Mingi’s mouth parted, his eyes wide and dark, jaw slack as he watched your body convulse under Yunho’s, still trembling, overstimulated and leaking. You were panting, wrecked, barely able to process the aftermath as Yunho leaned over you again, licking sweat from your neck and whispering, “You should’ve seen his face, baby.” And then, with a slow, deep thrust that made you whimper. “He’s never gonna forget this.”
You were shaking, thighs trembling against Yunho’s broad shoulders, your chest heaving, lips parted in a dazed, fucked out expression. And still he didn’t stop. Yunho dragged his dick out slow, savoring the squelch of your soaked cunt clinging to him before slamming back in again deeper making you entire body jolt. “Y….Yunho…” you gasped, a sob laced with pleasure spilling from your throat. “I…. I can’t…”
“Yes, you can,” he growled, thrusting harder now, both hands gripping your waist as he rocked into you. “You’re gonna come again for me, baby. Right here. Just like that.” He shifted one hand lower, thumb slipping between your bodies to find your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles as he pounded into you relentlessly. And the pressure…. it was too much. You shook your head, back arching, voice cracking, “Baby….. it’s…. fuck too much”
“Oh, I know,” Yunho breathed, dragging his teeth over your collarbone. “That’s why it feels so fucking good.” You didn’t even hear Mingi anymore. Didn’t notice the way he was breathing harder, the way the sheets rustled with movement across the room as fucked his hand imagining he was buried inside you along with Yunho. But Yunho did. He lifted his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, eyes locking with Mingi’s and grinned. And then, softly… tauntingly, “You gonna come with her, Mingi?”
Mingi froze, just a beat, before his head tipped back, a low moan slipping out, finally, completely involuntary. The sound of him made you blink, dazed and to clench Yunho a little harder as he leaned in again, voice a low, dangerous hum at your ear. “He’s fucking his fist right now watching me fuck you. And I haven’t even really started yet.” Your eyes flew open, the reality hitting you like lightning as Yunho’s hand slid to your throat, not tight, just there. Possessive. Calming. Claiming. “Look at me,” he whispered. “You’re mine. He knows it. He can fucking watch.”
And then he slammed into you again and you cried out, sharp, loud, broken and Yunho groaned as you clenched around him, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, body convulsing beneath him as slick poured out of you, your vision going white behind your eyes and Mingi’s moan hit the dark air right after. He couldn’t hold it back. His release ripped through him in silence and shame and awe, his chest heaving, hand still under the blanket, eyes wide and locked on you.
Yunho didn’t stop moving until your legs fell from his shoulders, until you were trembling and gasping and completely ruined. Only then did he slow, finally leaning down, pressing kisses along your jaw, his voice soft now, intimate. “You’re perfect.” Then, louder. For Mingi. “But she’s not done yet.”
Mingi knew he should’ve looked away. The second he opened his eyes and realized what was happening, what Yunho was doing to you just a few feet away, he should’ve rolled over, closed his eyes, pretended to still be asleep. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He laid there in the dark, heart hammering against his ribs, trying to stay still, to stay silent, as he watched you unravel beneath Yunho, sheets pushed aside, shirt bunched at your ribs, legs shaking, gasping and moaning into his hand like it was the only thing keeping you from screaming.
Mingi’s hand had drifted down before he even registered it, sliding beneath his waistband, fingers curling around himself. Yunho was fucking you slow, deep, possessive. Every stroke was like a threat and a promise, and when your body arched and you squirted, Jesus Christ, Mingi nearly came right then. He’d never seen anything so raw. So fucking real. Then Yunho looked at him. Locked eyes across the room. And grinned. Like he knew Mingi would never forget this. Now here Yunho was like the devil incarnate saying you weren’t done yet.
Mingi blinked. Heart stuttering as Yunho turned his head and looked right at him, still inside you, his voice low, cocky, and utterly in control. “Come on, princess,” he murmured. “You already came once. You might as well come help me wreck her.” Your head turned weakly toward Mingi, eyes hazy, lips swollen and parted. You were still panting, your body a trembling mess, but you didn’t say no. You didn’t say anything. And that silence made Mingi’s pulse slam into overdrive.
“You want him, don’t you?” Yunho whispered, tilting your face toward his. “You’ve thought about it. I know you have.” You didn’t answer with words but your thighs clenched involuntarily around Yunho’s waist and he smirked. “That’s what I thought.” He looked at Mingi again. “Take your shirt off.”
Mingi hesitated, his whole body frozen between desire and disbelief. But then he saw the way you looked at him, tired, wrecked, but eyes flicking down his bare chest when he sat up, pupils blown wide with curiosity. With want. So he stood and walked toward the bed slowly and Yunho leaned down, kissed your throat, then looked up at Mingi with a grin that wasn’t just invitation, it was challenge. “You’ve seen what I can do to her,” he murmured. “Now show me what you want to do.”
Yunho's challenge hung in the air, his voice low and commanding as he kept his dick buried deep inside you, the slow grind of his hips never faltering. Mingi hesitated at first, his face flushed deep red, eyes darting between his best friend’s possessive stare and the way your body trembled beneath him. But the tension built thickly in the dim hotel room, the city lights casting faint shadows across all of you. And slowly, Mingi shifted, his own dick still hard and leaking from the earlier release as he dropped to his knees beside your bed, drawn in despite the disbelief etched on his features, until he was right there beside you both.
Yunho's hand stayed firm around your throat, not squeezing too tight but holding you in place with that dominant grip, while his thrusts remained deliberate and unhurried. He pulled back almost all the way before sinking in again, stretching you open inch by inch, making sure you felt every ridge of him. "That's it, Mingi," Yunho murmured, his tone laced with taunt. "Come taste her. She's dripping all over my dick, and I know you want it."
Mingi swallowed hard, his breath ragged, but he moved, positioning his face near where your bodies joined. His tongue flicked out tentatively at first, lapping at your swollen clit with wet, broad strokes that sent sparks shooting through your overstimulated nerves. The sensation layered on top of Yunho's steady fucking, his dick sliding in and out right against Mingi's mouth, and Mingi groaned into you, the vibration rumbling through you. He didn't stop there, his tongue working eagerly now, circling your clit before dragging lower to swipe along the base of Yunho's dick as it plunged into you. The dual sensation was overwhelming, hot, slick pressure on your clit combined with the way Mingi's lips brushed Yunho's dick on every thrust.
Yunho grunted in approval, his hips picking up just a fraction, still controlled but deeper, filling you completely each time as Mingi's free hand wrapped around his own dick again, stroking it with desperate pumps, his fingers slick with his previous cum as he fucked his fist in time with the rhythm. He was overstimulated already, his body twitching from the intensity, yet he couldn't pull away, his tongue lapping messily at both of you, tasting your arousal mixed with the faint salt of Yunho's skin.
Your moans grew louder despite the hand on your throat, muffled only partially as Yunho's fingers tightened just enough to remind you that just because his best friend had joined, you were still his. Pleasure built in waves, your pussy clenching around Yunho's while Mingi's tongue flicked relentlessly over your clit, sucking gently now and then before returning to lap at the spot where Yunho entered you.
Mingi whimpered into you, his hand moving faster on himself, hips bucking into his own grip as overstimulation hit him hard, his dick throbbing, yet he kept going, chasing another release as Yunho watched it all with a dark grin, his gaze locked on Mingi even as he drove into you, the pace dragging out every sensation until your body quivered on the edge again. The minutes stretched on like that, Yunho's thrusts unyielding, each one pushing you higher while Mingi's tongue worked you over, alternating between your clit and the length of Yunho sliding past his lips.
Sweat beaded on Mingi's forehead, his strokes on his own dick growing erratic from the overload, but he didn't stop, his mouth open and hungry against you both. You felt the coil tightening in your core, your walls fluttering around Yunho as another orgasm built, slow and inevitable from the prolonged attention until finally, Yunho's control snapped just enough. His hand gripped Mingi's hair roughly, fingers tangling in the strands to hold him in place as his hips snapped forward harder. "Fuck, that's it," he growled, his dick pulsing inside you as he came, flooding you deep with hot spurts that filled you full.
His throat grip stayed possessive, anchoring you as his release triggered yours, your body convulsed, pussy squeezing him tight while you came hard around him, juices mixing with his own and coating Mingi's tongue who followed right after, his own orgasm hitting with a choked moan, his hand jerking his dick as he spilled again onto the side of the bed, overstimulated and trembling from the shared intensity. Yunho didn't let go immediately, keeping Mingi's face pressed close as the aftershocks rolled through all three of you, the room filling with heavy breaths and ragged gasps.
Then after the silence, a sudden burst of laughter left you, coming out breathless and full of amusement. “What?” Yunho pulled out of you, sitting back on his knees as Mingi moved back on the floor. “Wooyoung and Jongho are right next door.” You snorted because in the end, you were loud, all of you were. “Oh…” Yunho grinned and looked down at Mingi who shook his head, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I hate both of you.”
He absolutely didn’t. And he absolutely was thinking about doing it all over again.
Summary: You never believed in the stories you've heard about ancient beings that lived among humans, but after running away and finding solace in a small town far from where you came, you found yourself working for one of said beings, that proved day after day to be better than any human you've encountered.
Pairing: Vampire!Jongho x fem!reader
Word count: ~11k
Content Warnings: porn with plot, fluff, angst with comfort, Jongho is a man in this, mentions of toxic past relationships, mention of mental and physical abuse and manipulation (not by Jongho), mentions of blood, brief mention of killing (?), mentions of alcohol consumption and eating, boss-employee relationship boundaries being overstepped, making out, oral (reader receiving), unprotected piv (do not), creampie, biting, drinking blood, multiple orgasms (if I forget anything pls lmk)
a/n: I've been obsessed with baby boy Jongho for a while and the draft for vampire!jongho was gathering dust on my files bc i just couldn't set the tone right, but then the concept pictures fot gh4 came out and I saw that picture of him looking all hot and sexy in the armchair it was like a light bulb turned on in my brain. So yeah… enjoy :)
⚠️ english is not my first language so I apologize if there's any mistake
⚠️ this is a piece of fiction, in any way or form I intend to say that the people portrayed in the story act this way.
⚠️ as a writer (and artist and designer as well) I do condone the use of AI for creative work, therefore, I DO NOT use AI, nor consent to the use of my work for feeding machines.
⚠️ Do NOT repost my work
Working for a vampire wasn't on your bingo card, yet you found yourself sitting right in front of the incredibly intimidating man. He scanned your resume over and over as if the piece of paper would tell him a secret only he could hear.
"You know what you are applying for, right?" Mr Choi asked you, his voice resonating within the office. His eyes, a deep dark shade of red, watched you intensely and you wondered if he could read your mind.
You nodded, fixing your posture to be even straighter. "You need a personal assistant, someone to take care of your business while you take care of, well, your business" you chuckled lowly at your choice of words.
He nodded slowly, eyes still glued to yours and you tried to focus on the crease between his brows so you didn't have to look directly at his orbs, the intense gaze making you want to fold yourself into a cocoon.
Choi Jongho was a known man in your town. Not just for his business, but also for his philanthropy.
Living for so long in the same town has granted him some vision of past, present and future. What worked and what didn't. So he, along with a group of other vampires of the town, formed a board to help the city hall into best develop the place decades ago.
The idea not only worked but also turned your city into a model for your state and country, that exported the model for many places.
Through the years, Mr Choi also helped build hospitals, schools, take different types of business and factories to the city which led to the creation of many new jobs for the population.
He did all of that to help the town that welcomed him, and the others of his kind, and allowed them to grow there over the centuries.
Well, grow in the figurative sense of the word.
He hummed lowly as he finally moved his attention away from your eyes and all the air you were holding without knowing left your lungs. "I do have some more interviews to do, miss yn, even thought I am impressed by your resume" you smiled genuinely and nodded. "Mind me if I ask you why are you applying for this job when you have such a impressive resume?" You chuckled and lowered your head.
"Turns out companies don't seem to be looking at resumes or competence anymore" your voice was a little tired, remembering all the interviews and admission processes you've been through in the past two or three years. "If you don't have anyone to push you a little further, to talk with their friends about you, there's not much you can do. And to be very honest with you, Mr Choi, my current job doesn't pay me well, and your salary offer is quite attractive" the man chuckled, a tiny smile forming in the corner of his mouth.
"I like your honesty, miss yn, that is a virtue I admire and look for in an assistant" you bowed thanking for his compliment. "As I said prior, I have other candidates to interview, but I'll let you know your results as soon as I finish the process" he got up from his chair and you mimicked him.
"Thank you for your time, sir. I'm looking forward to hear more of you" you bowed profoundly to show respect and left the office.
As soon as you arrived home, that was conveniently close to the man's office, you threw yourself on the bed, clothes and all, utterly tired and drained from anxiety. Soon, your eyes fluttered closed and you drifted asleep.
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
The clicking of your heels echoed on the hardwood floors as you followed the man. He wasn't much taller than you but his aura was enough to make you fell much smaller.
He was always dressed impeccably, his tailored suits fitting perfectly on his body and giving him this clean and elegant cut. His shoes always dark and polished as if they just left the box and it wouldn't shock you if they actually did. His hair always perfectly gelled in place, a few strands on top of his forehead, his red eyes always deep and observant.
When you received the email that you were the chosen one to be his personal assistant you beamed in happiness. Not only to leave your terrible job but to earn a good amount of money to be able to take care of yourself properly.
Right now, you were following your soon-to-be new boss inside his house, the place smaller and cozier than you expected. Your curious eyes wandered quickly from side to side looking at what they could as you walked behind the man.
Jongho led you to his office, the place much cozier than the one where you had your interview. This one resembled more of a library than a office, his desk made out of a dark polished wood, the heartwood marks being visible. Behind it laid a beautiful chair made out purple-dyed leather. And on the wall behind it there were shelves stacked with dozens, hundreds of books. You wondered how many of those were from other century.
The man noticed your admired face and smiled, he was certain he did the right choice picking you. Ever since the first time you step feet inside his office the day of the interview with your posture held high and the willingness and eagerness of someone wanting to do something of their life he knew you were the one.
Of course he did a background check on you, as well as every other candidate, and your life story made his dead heart shrink. He was the one called a beast yet it was the humans that made you hurt. No wonder you were stuck in this small town hid on the map looking for simple jobs when you had such an impressive resume in your hands. Anywhere bigger and you could be in danger.
He sat on his chair and motioned for you to take a sit in front of him. You did so.
"So, miss yn, thank you for accepting to being my PA" you bowed slightly holding a gentle and professional smile. He pulled out a folder with a few papers on it "this is the employment contract, feel free to read and even take to a lawyer if you feel like" he slid the folder to you. "If something is not to your liking we can always discuss and see how we can adjust to best fit both of us".
You grabbed the contract and started to read. It was a lot, really, many pages of words you honestly didn't understand. But you were smarter than just sign something without reading.
"You can take home if you want, miss yn" Jongho spoke as he watched your eyes run from side to side trying to read the words fast. "As you will read, that are a few clauses that are very important for the functioning and progress of our partnership" you nodded, motioning to him that you were listening while still reading the contract. "First thing is that you'll have a trial period of a month to see how well we will work together" you nodded again, this time turning your full attention to the man. He smiled and hummed lowly. "Next is that you will be moving in with me to this house, we need to be together from the moment I wake up to when I go to bed, I know it sounds a little bit too much "he added when he saw your widened eyes, "but when you start working you'll understand what I'm talking about" you nodded once again, this time slower, the news getting you by surprise. "Another thing you need to know that is that even if I don't eat everyday, every once in a while a voluntary blood doll will come for me to feed. I know everything is very new to you since my kind don't tend to be in big cities, but now that you'll work for me you will have to deal with my feeding appointments" he explained as if it was the most common thing in the world, as if you were going to hire a professional chef to make his meals.
A small yet heavy silence fell on the room. As he expected. Jongho knew it was a lot for you to take and he decided to just dump all the most important clauses to you right in the beginning. It was better this way, not only he could access your facial expressions and read you but also to avoid further bigger shocks at home.
Your gaze switched from him to the books behind him, still too afraid to look too deeply and for too long into his red ones. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you applied for this job, yet reality was different than imagination. It always was.
"Do you have any further questions, miss yn?" He broke the silence and the trance you put yourself into.
You shook your head and cleared your throat "Not for now, sir. I'll read the contract and let you know if anything by tomorrow max" you replied and he hummed, back relaxing on the backrest of his chair, hands folded in his lap.
"Well, that's all for today, miss yn, if there's nothing else, you're dismissed" you lifted from the chair and bowed.
"Thank you one more time for the trust, Mr. Choi" you said and with his dismissive nod you left the room.
Before going home, you decided to pass in your favorite bakery and grab some pastries and baked goodies for you to eat while reading the contract.
"Oh wow yn" the old lady that ran the place chimed as you entered, "I've never seen you so dressed up. What's the occasion?"
You smiled and told her about your probable new job. You two engaged in small talk about it and how she was happy that you were finally looking for better jobs and moving on.
Truth was that you grew in an orphanage until you reached legal age and had to leave. You started working so you could afford college and somewhere to live. Life was never easy on you but you managed through it even when sticks and stones were thrown.
During your college years you met a boy, he was sweet, caring, kind. Until he wasn't. He started to make your life a living nightmare. Manipulating you, making you distance yourself from your friends until you were isolated and depended on him for basically anything. He became violent whenever you confronted him.
You feared for your life everyday.
The only way you managed to get rid of him was to leave the town you used to live as soon as you finished your graduation. You left your phone somewhere random because you knew he had a gps on it, grabbed what you could, got on the first bus you could afford with the little money you had and went to wherever the destiny led you.
That's how you ended in this small town filled with ancient creatures that you only heard tales of but never seen in front of you. Genevieve, the owner of the bakery, was the first one to take you in after you told her your story. You slept on the back of the bakery for a couple of months until you found a job and had enough money to rent a small place.
It's been three years since you left everything behind and started it all again. And you didn't regret a single bit.
You left your shoes at the door and sighed at the feeling of finally come down of the heels and put on your soft bear shaped slippers. You moved to the kitchen to serve yourself a cup of wine before diving into reading the pile of papers.
The pastries on the right, wine on the left and the folder in the center. Your body now comfortably hugged by your pajamas.
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
The moving came the week after you signed your contract. Suitcases and boxes of your stuff being moved into the room designated to you in his house. The one on the far left at the second - and last - floor.
You learned that, besides you, his butler Jinho also lived in the house but on the room beside Jongho's one in case he needed anything.
As stated in the contract, he was going to still pay for your rent and bills for the trial month in case it didn't work out and you had to go back home. You promised yourself to do your best and spent the whole week studying about the job and what people on the internet that had that job talked about.
The room you were given was almost as big as your whole apartment, the walls were painted in a light beige color except for the wall behind the bed that was a deep burgundy color that matched the sheets and pillowcases. The furniture was from the same dark polished wood you saw at his office and you couldn't help but run the tip of your fingers through the vanity that was a bit farther from the bed.
You walked to the big window that was covered by a curtain in the same burgundy shade and opened to find that that it was in fact a door that led to a small balcony. You smiled as you opened the glass doors and walked to the railing and watched the beautiful view of the city countryside. Your eyes instinctively closed as you smelled the sweet scent of flowers from the fields ahead of you.
Someone cleared their throat behind you, making your turn to find the perfectly suited butler at the entrance of your room. Your bags and boxes already inside. When had they put it there?
"Welcome to the property, miss yn" his gravely voice rumbled through the room as he bowed. You repeated the gesture as you walked towards the man. "I can see you already discovered your view"
You nodded smiling "it's really pretty looking at the flowers fields from up here, it also feels like I'm smelling into a fabric softener" you chuckled.
"I'm glad is to your liking" he showed no expression. "All your things are here as far as I am aware" you nodded confirming as you recognized everything that you packed. It wasn't much since you didn't have much. "You'll find that Mr Choi already filled your wardrobe with clothes that he felt appropriate for your new work position" you opened the doors as soon as he finished speaking to find many shirts, dress pants, skirts and even heels inside the furniture. "I hope they are to your liking"
"They are, thank you" you closed the wooden doors. "He didn't have to".
"Mr Choi told me you would answer along those lines and asked me to simply say that now you are working for him and you should dress as such, and since it's a requirement that you wear certain clothes it wouldn't be fair for you having to spend from your income to renew your wardrobe"
"So I dressed badly, huh?" You teased yet the man was like a marble statue.
"If that's all, will you excuse me" he said and before he could leave you stopped him.
"I have a question" he nodded once. "Since, well, Mr Choi doesn't eat regular food, will you have to… adapt because of me?" For a fraction of a second you could see what was a hint of a twitch in Jinho's lip, almost as if he held himself from smiling and breaking his character.
"Me and other employees here are still humans, miss yn" your mouth formed an O shape. "Don't worry about such frivolous things, we will provide you everything you need as long as you do your job properly" you nodded.
"I'll do my best, sir" you gave a salute to him and he just sighed before leaving the room.
Opening the wardrobe again, you grabbed some of the clothing pieces and analyzed them, their fabric, their stitching, their quality. You wondered how much the vampire had spent on all of those clothes and shoes for you and smiled at the thought of him thinking about what you should wear and sending someone to buy it. Who bought it though? Because the person had a great taste and sense of style.
You started to unpack your things and put them into place. Makeup, brushes, perfume bottles and accessories at the vanity. Books, albums and vinyls at the shelves, as well as some of your favorite decorations that you brought along. You put your old clothes separated from the new ones just in case. Same thing with the shoes. The last thing was deciding where to hang your posters, artworks and pictures but you decided to leave that for later, you still didn't know how much you could decorate the place.
It was already dark outside when you finished organizing everything and putting away the boxes and bags. You were satisfied for now.
You decided to take a shower after finishing, glad that you had your own bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. You grabbed your towel and the clothes you were going to put on and entered the bathroom, not bothering to close the door.
The warm water hit your body like it was dark hot black coffee entering your system in the early morning: soothing, rejuvenating and reliving. Without much thought, you started to hum a song as you washed yourself.
Jongho was coming to personally call you for dinner when he heard you singing in the shower. He chuckled at the way you sang it, the voice cracking often at the high notes. He hoped you were a better assistant that you were as a singer.
"Holy shit!" You cursed as you left the bathroom to find a very casual looking Choi Jongho with his hands in his pockets and an amused smirk on his face. "I'm so sorry, Mr Choi. I didn't know you were there" you bowed deeply as you felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
"I came to invite you for the dinner and was met with a rather… unique voice" he teased you and, if possible, your face burned even more. If you were a cartoon you were sure there would be steam coming out of your head. He decided to save you from further embarrassment and stopped the teasing. "Dinner is served at the dining room, you're welcomed to come"
"Thank you, Mr Choi" he nodded and left, but not before singing the same song you were singing before with a voice that you were sure belonged to angels.
You facepalmed from already making a fool out of yourself in front of your boss on the first day.
Putting the shame aside, you quickly brushed your hair and put on your bear slippers before leaving your room to find the dining room.
It wasn't hard to find the place since as soon as you started to approach the first floor you heard clacking of cutlery, talking and some eventual laughs. You walked towards the sound and found the room, that was simple and warming. Just like almost everything in his house. The table was large and had a bunch of people, some of which you recognized as fellow employees, and Jongho was sitting on the end, a glass of what looked like wine in his hand.
Everyone turned their attention to you when you stopped at the door. Silence suddenly hovering the air.
"Welcome miss yn" Taeyang, one of his security guards broke the silence with a gleaming smile.
Everyone followed after him and started to welcome you with words and smiles. You felt shy at the attention at you but thanked everyone's hospitality with bows and smiles, walking to the empty seat between two of the employees you recognized from the day you did your interview.
Soon enough the maids started to bring the food. To say it smelled delicious was just the tip. Your mouth was watering at the smell and the sight of so much food in front of you. Just then, at the view and smell of food, that your stomach rumbled and you realized that it had been since morning that you didn't eat anything significant.
Just when Jongho motioned that everyone started to serve themselves, you following suit.
You didn't know what to grab first, the lamb or the risotto? The salad or the soup? there were so many options that your eyes moved from side to side looking at everything and deciding on what to choose.
After finally deciding on grabbing a little of everything, you settled into eating. The flavors and textures melting on your tongue, an explosion of taste on your tastebuds, something you have never tried before. You closed your eyes and hummed lowly at it, enjoying the dinner.
In his sit at the very end of the table, the man watched everyone but mostly you. Looking to see if you'd get along with everyone, if the food was to your taste, how you'd react to the food he asked to prepare extra special for your welcome dinner. Your smile at every forkful told him everything he needed to know about the subject.
He noticed how you looked cozy and comfortable on the little pajama set you wore, the light green short-sleeved button up had little black cat paws prints all over it, the fabric looked soft even though it looked like you had worn it for quite a while. The short shorts, with matching color and print, rode up on your plush thighs, leaving almost no room for imagination. He caught himself wondering if it they would feel as soft in his hands as they look all spilled on top of the chair where you sat.
He cleared his throat lowly and turned his head around, trying not to stare at you. Not too much at least. But it was especially hard with you laughing so sweetly at something one of his drivers said.
Jongho would be lying to you and himself if he ever told anyone that he didn't find you attractive. Quite the contrary, from the moment he looked at you he knew you were one of the prettiest people he ever laid eyes on. No matter the century. He wished in his dead heart that he'd find someone better than you for the job but no one ever came close to your skill and knowledge.
And he needed someone good, someone to actually help him. So there was no other choice.
During the dinner, every once in a while, you'd notice your boss looking at you but you'd brush away the thought, maybe he was looking at someone else. Or maybe he was just being a good host and making sure his new guest was well adjusted and served.
That was definitely it.
You also noticed that, while you were eating, he had a glass of a liquid that looked like wine. You wondered if it was blood. And if it was, from whom?
You shook the thoughts away as you kept your talk to one of his drivers, Malik, that was sitting next to you. He was a nice and sweet sixty-something years old man, his hair and beard already white from the time. He told you about how he owned his life to the vampire because he helped save his wife and daughter a long time ago. "I had nothing back then" he had told you, "the women of my life dying of a disease that I had never heard of until then, but Mr Choi helped us and I promised I'd pay him back. Even though I already paid my debt, I like working for this thing, he's better than any human I've met" the old man chuckled and you just nodded.
You turned to look at the creature and found him already looking at you, his lips tugging slightly at the corner as he lifted his cup to you.
A shiver ran down your spine. You don't know why.
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
The first two weeks at work were absolute hell. Not because you hated, but because Choi Jongho proved to be one of the busiest man you've ever met. It took you a long time to fall into his rhythm and be able to follow him along.
Now, almost two months into this position you proved not only for yourself, but to Jongho as well, that you were made for this job.
"I made sure to pack all of the essential things you might need for the trip" you spoke as you followed behind your boss at his building. "I made a list of the things I've packed and another for the personal items you might want to get for yourself" you gave him the paper and checked the little box of the task. "Your hotel room, as well as your staff's, are already booked at for four days and three nights at the hotel. The booking is on your name, so you just need to do the check in on time" you sent the man an email that quickly ringed on his phone. "Just sent you your plane tickets for both the going and return" you continued to walk, your head down, until you hit it against a relatively hard wall.
You looked up to see that it was Mr Choi's back since he stopped walking and was now turning to face you.
You'd never get used to this man's beauty, even behind his pale cold skin, dark deep red eyes that were supposed to scare you away, there was still a small sparkle of life.
"You're not coming?" His voice was deep, assertive, yet held a curiosity almost childish. You shook your head no. "How am I supposed to endure this trip without you?"
You chuckled at him. "You'll be fine, Mr Choi, it's not the first business trip you do without me, besides, you can contact me at any time you need" you smiled and held the tablet against your chest.
He shook his head. "This time is different, it's a longer trip and to another country. I need you with me to make sure I make no mistakes, I'm too used to being babysat by you as Jinho says" you laughed a little, he did look like a lost child sometimes. "Please, yn, I need you" the way those words came out of his mouth held something more than just work-related need but you decided to ignore. For your own mental health.
You sighed. Defeated. And nodded. "I'll book another flight and hotel room for me then if that's what you want, sir" he nodded proudly, smiling. He learned how to smile more to you ever since you started working for him. Which you hated to admit that you loved because he had the cutest little gummy smile you had ever seen.
Sometimes you get yourself wondering how was Jongho's life before turning into a vampire. What was he? What did he do? How did he handle the transformation and the hunger at the beginning? The idea of the man hunting and killing people for his survival scared you. Yet, the same idea made you feel almost pitiful of him and his… condition. How did he managed to evolve with the world and be able to adapt into the new centuries? The new generations?
Also, you get yourself wondering if he ever had someone. Loved someone. Being immortal comes with the curse of seeing your loved ones get old and die while you're stuck with the same face, the same eternal age that never goes up and never ends.
Sure, you already saw him receiving guests at his house outside the feeding schedule, so he wasn't lonely. But being accompanied doesn't mean being loved.
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
The hotel was way more luxurious than anything you had ever seen. You knew your boss liked comfort and quiet when traveling, but it exceeded your expectations. Also the meeting was happening at the same hotel, so it would be more convenient if you stayed there.
After the check in was done and the cards that opened the doors were distributed, everyone went to their designated ones to rest a little before the first dinner with the investors at night.
Besides you and Mr Choi, there was also three bodyguards along with you. You and your boss had your own separated rooms, while the other men shared another one.
You dropped yourself down the soft bed as soon as you closed the bedroom door. Body and head tired from the travel, you hated to fly. The low hum outside the window of the room slowly matched your heartbeat and soon you were drifting asleep.
You woke up with knocks on your door, not really sure for how long you had slept but from the small pool of drool on the pillow you could tell it was for a while.
Behind the door stood a very casually dressed Jongho, hair down and unstyled, making look even younger with the bangs on his eyes, a set of matching dark blue sweatpants and hoodie and a small box in his hands.
"Hm.. hi, sir, can I help you with anything?" You asked, head still a bit dizzy from the sleep and the flight. "Am I late? I am sorry, I fell asleep as soon as I laid down and I-"
"Don't worry, yn, you're not late" he smiled and you copied his gesture. You motioned for him to enter the room and so he did. "I came because I have a favor to ask" you nodded for him to keep talking. "This dinner tonight is less of a business one and more of a show-off" you tilted your head confused and he sighed, sitting on the bed. "The men I'm making business are not… nice. They like to show off their money, their businesses, whatever they can flaunt, they will. But I need their cooperation for this next move, they have real political power, and I need that" you nodded slowly.
"And where do I fit into this?" You asked still not getting what he was trying to tell.
"You see, I'd love to have a beautiful woman by my side since they value this kind of traditional structures like marriage like they value their money"
"And you want me to be your… wife?"
"Just for the night. I know it's a lot to ask and I'll understand if you don't want to, I was going to hire someone anyways" he chuckled and looked at the box on his lap before looking at you again. "But I figured that who better to help me on this than someone that not only understands my business but it's an essential part for it to work?"
"Are you trying to flatter me and my work into accepting this?" You joked, crossing your arms over your chest and pulling a soft smile out of the man.
"A little. But only with the truth though!" He rushed to add before you could get it wrong. "Please, I'll even pay extra hours"
"No need to, I'll help because I know how stressed you've been with this trip for the past week, I know how this deal is important for you" he smiled, genuinely. You thought that you had never seen him smile so big before.
"Thank you, yn. Thank you so much" he raised from the bed and handed you the box. "Wear this tonight, please. And be ready at seven"
"You knew that I was gonna accept?" You grabbed the box already knowing what was inside and he smirked at you from the door.
"I had a guess you would" he answered before leaving the room.
You chuckled and shook your head in disbelief. The more you knew about your boss, more he seemed to surprise you.
The velvety box was soft to the touch but sturdy, a sign that it was from some high-end brand you probably never heard of. Opening it you found one of the most beautiful dresses you ever laid your eyes on. The fabric was from a deep purple color and was a soft and cool satin. The bodice was strapless and from a sheer lace that would leave your torso peeking underneath the delicate pattern. The skirt started draping at the height of the hips and fell down until it reached the ground.
You admired the piece, the softness of the silk, the delicate floral pattern of the lace, the almost invisible stitching proving even further that it was a quality and high-end product.
You left the box and the dress on the bed and moved to take a shower, you had to be the most perfect you've ever been to impress the investors and help your boss.
The warm water and the smell of your jasmine body wash helping you relax your nerves. It was an important dinner for Jongho and his business, and as far as you knew, for the city as well. After the shower, you wrapped yourself in the fluffy bathrobe and started to do your hair and makeup. Since the dress was already eye-catching enough, you decided to do a simple soft look, using a bit of shiny eyeshadow to mark your eyes, a light warm blush that matched your complexion and a nude brown lip gloss that made your lips look even plumper. You decided to leave your hair natural and just apply some volume and definition to it.
You admired your reflection on the floor length mirror, the dress was not only gorgeous but it looked like it was made for your body, the fabric hugging your body on all the right places, your curves looking even more enhanced by the shape. The color complemented your complexion so well and it matched perfectly with the heels you were wearing as well as the jewelry you chose to further the look even more.
It was was exactly seven pm when you heard knocks on your door. You opened it to meet a very fancy and well dressed Choi Jongho. He wore a fitted black suit, the pants were plain black, as well as the shirt underneath, the blazer had a golden stitching with a squared pattern and gold buttons. Instead of a tie, the first button of the shirt was open and a gold chain with some details on it hung from under the collar. His perfume invaded your senses, the deep floral and earthy smell enveloping you and dizzying you with his smile.
The man was doing his best to keep his jaw closed. He knew you were pretty, but seeing you all dressed up made his stomach twist and his mouth dry. He was in trouble.
Jongho can't remember the last time he liked someone. That he allowed himself to like someone. Being immortal always made things related to the heart hard for him. He saw so many people he loved to born, to grow and to die. He knows that to love someone is to let them go, but not when he had to see it so many times.
He wasn't always like this, he wasn't born like this, which always made everything worse. He turned on a fateful night hundreds of years ago after leaving a tavern he went to celebrate the crop of the year with his friends. His sister told him not to go, warning about strange and dangerous creatures that lurked in the dark. He shooed her away saying that he was a strong man, he knew how to take care of himself.
Only if he had listened.
That night, after leaving the warm interior of the tavern, a little too drunk of soju and rice wine, he stumbled along the streets of the village until he met a man, a seemingly unsuspecting man. He asked for directions and when Jongho let his guard down and turned to the side to point to the other side that was when he felt, the painful piercing through his skin.
He woke up a few hours later, the sun already rising, the light hitting his skin and the brightness making him stir awake. His body hurt yet felt stronger and he had this hunger that wasn't normal. The young man moved to his house, the few villagers he encountered looked at him startled when he passed by.
When he arrived home his sister was ready to welcome him with slaps and screams of irresponsibility but she stopped on her track when she saw him. Her widened eyes only proved further to Jongho that something had happened. "What's wrong?" He asked, voice hoarse, low, dry, thirsty. He tried to move closer but she took steps back. "Don't come near me!" The woman squeaked. Scared. Why was her scared of him?
He took more steps forward and she took more steps back until she hit her back on the table, her hand landing on a sharp fish knife and cutting her palm. Instantly the metallic smell of blood flew to Jongho's nose and made his stomach rumble and mouth water. The sister started to shake uncontrollably, that's how she'd die.
And then it hit him. Like a hammer on a toe. He had only heard stories about beings half dead half alive that needed human blood to survive. Beings so evil that held no remorse or empathy for the human race, seeing them as nothing but a feast for them to enjoy. The man last night was one of those. And he had become one.
With all the strength he could muster, he turned around and left. He grabbed his horse and ran away to the forest, somewhere where he couldn't be a danger to anyone he loved.
Jongho became pretty good at keeping his promise. For years he only ate criminals, people so evil that he judged that didn't deserve to live. He avoided becoming closer to other people, even other vampires, he was a lone wolf and he preferred like that, this way his heart wouldn't hurt.
But he couldn't live always like this, not when years started to pass slower and even seemed to stop. After a while he met the men that would become his friends, other beings like him. Together, they formed something of a society, a book of rules for the vampires to follow and be incorporated into the society.
It worked, over the years that passed, the living-dead and the humans started more and more to live in peace together. But even then, the man never truly allowed himself to like someone, to fall in love, not even for someone like him. It was easier, more comfortable to be alone. He was used to it after centuries of living.
So the moment he saw you standing in front of him looking like a goddess on earth and he felt something twist inside of his dead body he knew. He knew he was doomed.
"Shall we go?" You asked, smiling shyly, the tiny clutch bag you had being held tightly under your fingers.
Jongho managed to get out of his daydreaming and stepped aside to let you get out and close the door. He offered you his arm and you held it so you could walk to the dinner party.
The said party was being held at the bar in the hotel you were staying at. The place was already full of fancy and well dressed people. Most of them looked way older than you, and at all honesty, than Jongho too even though he was technically hundreds of years old.
As soon as you walked in, a few men came to welcome Jongho and talk about business. You were offered a cup of champagne while your companion was talking to a couple of men something about improvement laws and some things that you couldn't understand.
You were glad that for the most part those people barely acknowledged you by his side, even the other partners that stood quietly by those men's side, except to compliment him on being with someone as pretty as you.
When your boss briefly told you about the nature of those men and how they treated their partners, besides calling themselves traditional and caring about family, they couldn't care less about their wives, seeing them as just an accessory. But you didn't expected it to be like this.
You were standing by your boss' side, champagne now warm on the cup in your hand when a chill ran down your spine as if something sinister passed by you.
"You thought that you could get away from me?" You froze in place, body stiff and shoulders tight. You could recognize that voice anywhere.
You didn't move, as if he was a wild animal that could sense fear and if you stood still he would go away. But unfortunately, to your dismay, he did the exact opposite and stopped right in front of you. Jongho sensed your discomfort and came closer to you.
"Of all the places I've imagined I'd see you again, I've never imagined it would be at a business dinner" his smirk was devilish, you could feel his dark aura emanating from him as if a dark cloud hovered over him. "Why did you ran, dear? We were so happy and I did all my best for you" he touched your face with the back of his hand, sinister smile on his lips.
You shrank into yourself and closed your eyes, hoping that the next time you opened them he would be gone. Jongho saw your discomfort and circled your waist, bringing you closer to his body and moving your ex's hand away from you.
The taller man laughed, that deep, almost evil laugh. "I see that you got yourself a protector. Who is he? Your sugar daddy?" The wicked smile never left his lips as he watched you two. He crossed his arms over his chest "you know that yn left me behind? After all I did for her, after all the love I gave, she still left me with no explanation, no clue. That sweet dear of yours is nothing but a bitch!"
"You're the only bitch in here" You fumed, fear now gone and anger taking over you. People around turned to look at what was happening but you didn't care. "You abused me! You manipulated me into a mess, into your little doll. You made me alone, without anyone else. The only friends I had was the pain and the bruises you've left on my skin!" The whispers around you increased, those people were probably thinking you were a hooligan but you couldn't care less.
You could feel the tears start to run down your face. Your lips quivering in anger. Hands balled up into a fist by your sides, ready to punch him but still afraid.
"You're so ungrateful, yn. Can't you see? All I did was because I loved you" the man snarled back, body towering over you, trying to intimidate.
"What kind of love was that that hurt the person you said to love? What kind of love beats you to the point of leaving you breathless and bruised? Tell me! After all you did to me you have the nerve to say it was because you loved me?" You snorted.
"Of course I loved you! I turned my entire life about you, you were my main priority. We had such a bright future ahead of ourselves, I couldn't let those people you had the guts of calling friends ruin what he had"
"Then you went and ruined yourself?" You shook your head and looked to the ground before looking back at him. "Do you know how hard it was for me? I had nothing left, no friends, no prospect, only fear for my life" he tried to touch your arm but Jongho finally intervened.
The man pulled you back to him and pushed the other's hand away, his fangs making an appearance and hissing at your ex. You never saw your boss angry or feed, so you never had seen him with fangs until that moment. It took you by surprise because sometimes you forget he is the being that he is, only remembering when you look at his eyes and see their red color.
"Are you okay?" He whispered to you and you denied with your head. To be honest you didn't know how you were feeling but you didn't want to stay there any longer. He turned to look at the taller man still in front of him, "if I ever find out you touched your dirty unworthy hands on yn or anyone else I'll make sure you won't touch anything at all" he pulled you to start walking with him back to your room.
"The… the partnership" you stuttered between your sobs.
"I don't care about that. If those people had the courage to do that to someone like you, what other things can they do, don't you think?"
You stood quiet while you walked back to your room, his embrace never leaving your waist. Even though he was a cold dead being, the touch still felt warm. Calming. You let yourself be guided by him while your mind was stuck at the feeling of being protected, taken care of.
The last time you felt something similar was when you first moved to town, Genevieve taking care and helping you. It was the first time someone had done something to you. And now, Mr Choi, risked his business to defend you against your ex. What could that cost to him? Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot. You didn't know.
You barely registered when you entered the room and the man guided you to sit on the bed. He knelt and gently took your heels off, caressing softly the skin there, especially where the straps touched and left indents. He proceeded to grab some cotton pads and makeup remover and started to take off the painting from your face. His touch gentle. Caring. Feather-like.
Jongho eyes were fixed on you, watching intently every twitch, every breath, every spot and mark. How your lips, partially open, looked so plump and inviting while you exhaled with shallow breaths.
He, more than never, wanted to protect you. To take care of you. He knew he was crossing a line. But for the first time in decades he felt alive again.
Jongho finished taking off your makeup and, while your eyes were still closed, he brought his hand to your cheek and caressed the soft skin there. You hummed at the touch and smiled slightly, almost invisible, but he could see. He could see everything.
You opened your eyes and locked gazes with him. He swore that, if he still breathed, his would have hitched right then and there. You leaned into his touch and smiled a bit bigger, enjoying his care toward you.
Silence fell and for a while no one said a thing. Just your breath being heard. His hand still on your cheek.
The bed creaked as you lifted yourself up, staying face to face with the man. You looked to his eyes, then to his lips and to his eyes again. Your lips twitched a small smirk before leaning into his.
The kiss was short. Just a touch of lips. Quick. Scared. Afraid.
He looked at your eyes looking for any sign of regret or fear or anything that could stop him from doing what he wanted to do. When he found none, his lips smashed against yours, tightly.
Jongho grabbed your waist with one of his hands and pushed you flush against his chest all while the other one held your face. You were fisting the collar of his suit.
Your mouths kissed as if made for each other, lips opening and closing in a mad dance of passion and need. You whined softly when you felt the hand that was on your waist slide down to your ass and move to your leg. He took advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue inside your mouth. He tasted like fancy champagne and remnants of his minty toothpaste.
The kiss was broken just when you could no longer breathe because you, unlike him, needed oxygen to survive. He touched your foreheads together and intently watched you. His eyes, once red, now looked almost black.
Neither of you said anything. Just watched each other reactions and tried to understand what was happening inside your own heads. You both knew that you had crossed a very defined limit. Boss and employee. Human and vampire. The lines were blurring in your eyes and neither of you wanted to go back to see it clearly.
You finally let go of all your worries, inhibitions, fears and everything else and circled your hands around his neck and kissed him again. He instantly responded to the kiss and brought you back close to him by your waist, arms circling your frame.
The kiss was feverish, quick and desperate. Too many things being said in a clash of tongues.
You wanted each other. Desperately.
His hand on your back moved up until he found the zipper of your dress and slowly pulling it down, opening the garment. The cold air hit your now exposed back making shivers appear on your skin, hairs standing. Jongho moved his kisses to your jaw and neck, licking and sucking the soft skin he met on his way down.
He started to slowly pull your dress down your body, hands caressing wherever they touched and making you suck a breath at the roughness of his skin on you. The fabric pooled at your feet at the same time he knelt in front of you and helped you get away from the piece of clothing.
Jongho looked up at you, eyes dark and hooded with lust and something more. He started to caress and squeeze your supple thighs, leaving soft kisses on the skin.
And them he hummed when he nosed at your clothed core and inhaled your aroused scent, fingers squeezing your hips.
"Lay on the bed for me, darling" he spoke, low, deep, hoarse. You almost moaned at the way he spoke and how he was looking at you. You never felt more desired. "And spread your pretty legs for me. Mhm… that's it, pretty" he mused as you did as told, the visible wet patch on your simple cotton panties making the heat crawl up your face. You didn't expect to end up like this so you just wore your regular underwear.
But Jongho couldn't care less about what type of panties you were wearing, either way, he was going to take them off of you. He moved his way from the ground while kissing your thighs, his cold lips a stark contrast against your burning skin. The anticipation making you shiver and wriggle in place.
When he finally arrived at your core, he left a small kiss bellow your navel and just above the waistband of your underwear before pulling them off. You shivered again at the sudden cold wind hitting your wet and warm vulva, exposed for the man to enjoy. Oh and he would enjoy it.
He moved back to between your legs and put your left one on top of his shoulder, making you spread wider and be more exposed for him. He scented you one last time before licking at your core with a flat tongue. You arched from the bed at the contact but also for being so long since someone touched you like that. You bit your lip as he moved his tongue up and down between your folds, lapping at your juices with low hums coming from his throat.
"Don't hold back, let me hear your sweet noises" he murmured between your legs at seeing you were holding yourself from moaning. "I don't care who'll hear us, I want'em to know who's making you feel good" you nodded and moved your hand to hold at his hair.
He went back to his task, now paying attention to your clit. The tip of his tongue drawing circles and the entire alphabet before giving a harsh suck that made you roll your eyes and moan. He smiled and sucked again and again at your nub, his chin glistening with your wetness. You tugged harder at his hair when he gave you an especially hard suck, back arching from the mattress.
"You taste divine, yn" he groaned. "I think I won't be able to get over your taste now that I know how it feels against my tongue" he replaced his mouth on your clit with his thumb, circling the bud with it while his tongue started to prod at your entrance. You don't know if it was you that was sensitive after so long without being touched by someone else or if he really was that good, probably both, but you could feel your high approaching, the knot in your stomach tightening.
"Sir…" you moaned as you pulled his hair again. "I'm… I'm close" you managed to stutter, low, worn.
"Go on, dear. I have you" he encouraged you, fingers moving faster and harsher against your clit. "Let yourself go for me, let me taste you" you moaned at both his words and his tongue fucking into you.
He was moving faster, harsher, with more intent. You felt it, the wave rising high until it crashed at the shore. You couldn't care if you moaned loud or not, you needed to get that delicious feeling out of your system. Jongho smiled against your core as he drank everything you gave to him. Your taste intoxicating, addictive.
He helped you through your high until it bordered overstimulation. You pushed his head away from you, legs quivering at the intensity. He smiled widely at you, nose, lips and chin shining with your essences. He was on cloud nine.
The man quickly wiped your remains from his face before lowering himself to kiss you again. A clash of tongues and teeth. Need even higher now. His pants incredibly tight in his front.
"Can you take your clothes off now?" You asked sweetly, almost shy, while trying to open the buttons of his suit. He smiled and nodded.
He purposefully took the pieces of clothing slowly, teasing as he watched your blown eyes eat him alive and press your thighs together, low whines leaving past your lips. The man smirked when he took it all off, leaving him in only his gold chain and underwear.
You only ever saw him all dressed up in full suits and thick clothing, the most you saw were his arms when he'd walk around the house in his soft and fancy t-shirts. But he was hiding his gold. His body was absolute perfection, a sculpture you'd see in museums and books. His shoulders wide, big, strong, his arms looking even bigger now with the assembly of the whole view of his body. His chest was as large as his back and his tummy was toned, not like full abs, just little indents of the muscle adorning his soft belly. And his skin, tanned and dripping gold like honey you wanted to taste on your tongue.
You moved from your laid position to kneel on the bed. You were not thinking straight, lust and desire clouding your brain, the only thing visible in the fog was Jongho. He moved closer to you and leaned down to capture your lips in a heated kiss again. You used the proximity to gently rub his hard on through the soft fabric of his underwear, earning a low growl between the kiss, before you finally pulled the piece down.
If the view of his naked body had impressed you, you weren't expecting for his dick to do it even more. The member sprung free, bouncing up and down slightly and making your mouth water. He wasn't big, but the girth. That was impressive. He was thick and veiny, angry red at the tip that was already leaking precum from only eating you out.
You bit your lower lip and started to gently stroke the appendage, eyes looking up at him, lashes fluttering. He groaned at the sight under him. You, his ever so caring, competent and professional assistant, were stroking his cock while looking at him with the most dirty yet delicate look.
Jongho caressed your hair, your cheeks, until he reached your mouth. His thumb gently rubbed your lower lip until you opened your mouth and let him slide it inside, putting pressure on your tongue with the digit and making you suck it. The whine that left your lips at the act was borderline pornographic.
You kept rubbing his cock up and down, squeezing the base whenever your brain cleared a little and you could remember what you were doing.
It was a symphony of moans and whines between you two but your hands weren't enough, he needed to feel your insides.
The man took his finger from your mouth, making you whine, and turned you around and pushed your chest against the mattress. Your ass sticking in the air while your back arched perfectly. He grabbed his member and started to rub against your core, coating it in your juices, tip hitting your clit at every forward movement.
"Sir… please" your moan came stifled from your face being flush against the sheets.
"Since you asked so nicely" he smirked and teased your entrance with his tip.
You opened your mouth in a silent gasp as he started to enter you. Even slowly, you could feel your walls burning to stretch and accommodate his impressive girth inside. Your hands fisted the sheets as he kept pushing the intrusion even further.
"Fuck, yn, you're so tight" he almost whispered the words as he finished bottoming out, his size fully seated inside you.
You could feel all the muscles in your pussy tighten and relax, as if they were blinking against Jongho's dick. He allowed you to get used to his size, caressing the skin in the expanse of your back and sides.
He knew he could move the moment you started to roll your hips against his own. Hands grabbing your hips in a bruising grip before he took a bit of himself out of you before slamming back in, fucking a breath out of you.
Slowly, Jongho found a rhythm until he could pull everything out and put it in again. His thrusts were deep, taking it out slowly before slamming back in with force, each time leaving you more breathless.
The grip in your hips were strong, you were sure he'd leave purple marks from holding them with his inhumane force but, at that moment, you couldn't care less. All you could think about was his tip hitting all the right spots inside of you and his girth stretching you and probably ruining you for anyone else.
You could feel the coil in your stomach starting to build again, making your moans louder and more desperate. He also sensed by the way your walls were gripping him even tighter. He leaned down so he could circle his arm around you and his fingers play with your abused and puffy clit.
"Ngh-sir!" You almost screamed at the overwhelming sensation, legs shaking against his ones.
"Go on, dear. Cum on me" he moaned against your ear, index and middle finger never stopping their movements on your clit. "Let me feel around me how good I'm making you feel" you moaned again, back arching even further down the mattress before you came. Your gummy inside gripping the man like a vice, juices dripping down your thigh as a white-ish ring formed around his base. "Good girl" he moaned against your ear and you fluttered around his cock again, sensitivity making you dumb but you wouldn't ask him to stop. You couldn't.
He kept fucking you even after your orgasm, not calming nor slowing down, he actually started to move faster, plunging into your pussy with renewed focus and strength.
Your body fell limp on the bed, you couldn't hold your own weight anymore, the only thing keeping you up was his bruising grip on your hips. He noticed the change in your body and stopped his movements. He removed himself from you, earning a soft and needy whine, before laying your back on the bed.
Now you could see him, his blown and glassy eyes that once were red, now black with a hint of gold. His sweaty torso looking even more delicious than before and if you weren't already so spent you'd lift yourself to lick the sweat out of his chest. His lips red and swollen and his vampire fangs out and visible. You couldn't help but clench around nothing at the view in front of you.
He lined his member to your entrance again and fully bottomed out again, your walls now used to his size, but not stopping you from choking on a moan at the act. The man resumed into fucking you again at an even faster pace, the new angle hitting new spots that you didn't even know you had inside of you.
You were clouded in pleasure, mouth open, tongue lolling out, eye rolling to the back of your skull. You were light as a cloud and all you could think about was your boss. The man that gave you a job and trusted a big part of his business to you was now balls deep inside of you. His grunts and groans leaving with no shame to make a noise. He wanted you to know you were the one making him feel this way.
Your mind was so clouded that you didn't even register what you said. "What?" Jongho's movements faltered at your confession and request.
"Bite me" you repeated, eyes opening so you could watch his intense ones. "I want you to mark me" your whinny voice and the clench of your walls were enough to make him dizzy and clouded with you.
He didn't even think properly of the request, just wanting to fulfill your wishes. He leaned against your chest, a trail of kisses and gentle rubs of the tip of his fangs on his way up to your neck, that now smelled faintly of your perfume and more of your natural scent and sweat. He was addicted. You moved your head to the side, giving him more access to your neck.
He never stopped his thrusts, his hips pistoning at a slow and deep pace again.
He left sweet little kisses down your neck and throat until he reached the junction of your neck and shoulder. He gave a few licks on the spot before ripping the skin open with his sharp teeth. You screamed at both the pain and pleasure and the way they mixed all together. You didn't know which one was which.
He sucked your red elixir slowly, trying not to get overwhelmed at the taste but also not to make you faint. You started to get even lighter in the head at the same time the wetness in your core increased. You were starting to get close again.
"You taste divine, my darling" the man said after detaching from your neck and licking the holes clean. "I'm so close now, can you cum again for me? Hm? Be a good girl and cum around me again" he cooed at you, body pressed tightly against yours as he moved.
You nodded rapidly, mouth hanging open but no sound leaving anymore. You were happily spent.
Jongho lifted himself a little so he could rub your clit again. A few quick circles and you came undone underneath him, body tensing before falling limp.
He kissed your lips again and then your forehead "so good, darling, you did so well for me" he stroke a few strands of hair away from your face and peppered kisses all over it. "I'm close too, yn, where do you want me to cum?" He asked, restraining himself from coming before you answered him.
"Inside, please, sir" you both whined together.
He nodded with a smirk in his lips and, with a few more thrusts, he came, ropes of white coating and filling your walls as he slowly stopped his movements.
Jongho removed himself from you, both hissing at the feeling of loss. His cum dripping down your hole as your walls pulsated from the sensitivity and use.
He laid by your side. Quiet. Just the sound of your breaths slowly coming back to normal filling the hotel room. The man slowly moved his hand until he grabbed yours and intertwined your fingers together. His cold skin always a crude contrast to your warmth.
You two laid quietly together for a while, hands intertwined. Million thoughts started to run through your head as you started to go back to your normal state.
Sensing your overthinking, Jongho pulled you by your waist closer to his chest and kissed the top of your head. "I want you to know that I don't regret anything we did tonight. Very much the opposite of it"
You sighed against his arm where you laid. "But we still crossed a line" you looked over to him and found him already looking at you, his eyes slowly coming back to his normal red and fangs gone from his pearly white teeth. "And I don't know how to react" you confessed.
"Do you… like me? I mean, as do you want me?" He asked shyly but certain. You looked at him for a few seconds before slowly nodding, almost ashamed to be admitting this. "Well, I want you too, so there's no need to fuss or be nervous" he smiled and kissed your lips. Gentle, slow. You could taste the tangy taste of your blood on his lips.
"Thank you for protecting me today by the way" you met his gaze and he nodded with a smile.
"If you're going to be mine, you'll have to get used to get taken care of" a kiss on the tip of your nose. "And get marked everywhere on your body" you shivered at the thought, heat crawling up to your body back again.
"I can live with that" you mused before kissing him one more time before you both fell soundly asleep in each other's arms.
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