*Warning: Smut. Submissive Yunho.
The air is cool and the breeze is gentle as it blows through your hair. Yunho is quiet, and it makes you want to fill up the space with conversation— not because you feel awkward, but because it just feels like he’ll let you.
“You tired?” You ask, tilting forward as you continue, wanting to get a better look at his face.
He glances at you with a small, polite smile as he shakes his head, “No, I feel good. I actually don’t tend to go to sleep until around 1AM or so.”
You gasp exaggeratedly, “1AM? You like to live on the wild side, don’t you?”
He chuckles, “Would it make it better, or worse if I said it was because I’m usually staying up playing Valorant?”
“Valorant? You really are a geek, aren’t you?”
He smiles down at the ground, falling back into silence, and it stays that was for another three minutes, until you arrive at your apartment building.
“This is me,” You say cheerfully, motioning for him to follow you up the front steps.
You don’t know this, of course, but his heart is about to fall out of his ass he’s nervous.
You ring the buzzer to your neighbor’s apartment, having forgotten your keys.
“Y/n, you’re too fucking old to keep forgetting your goddamn keys,” Your neighbor hisses through the staticky old speaker, already knowing it’s you without having to ask; you’re a creature of habit, after all. “Stop being a bitch, Wooyoung, and just let me in.”
A moment of silence, then, the door buzzes open.
“Thank you!” You say, waving at the buzzer even though you know he can’t even see you.
Yunho stands there awkwardly until you beckon for him to follow. His hands are already sweating, so he just shoves them into his pockets and obeys you.
The hallway is nice and quiet, the distant sounds of the city in the background, though they’re far removed from where you two stand currently. In this hallway, the only sound is your keys jingling as you fish them out of your purse. You feel very aware of his presence behind you as you slip the key in and open up the door.
When you finally get it open, you let out a deep sigh of relief, “Come on in.”
You seem cool as a cucumber, meanwhile, he’s a ball of nerves as he walks in.
He looks around at everything— not that it takes a long time, since it’s only a studio apartment. To the right, your tiny kitchen is decorated simply but with a clear feminine influence— a stark contrast to the boring kitchen he shares with his roommate, Yeosang, who can’t cook to save his life, so he barely makes use of the kitchen to begin with.
In front of him is the tiniest hallway known to man, with two doors: one of them presumably being the restroom, and then to the left is a small couch facing a TV hanging on the wall behind him. And finally, against the wall to the furthest left of him, is your bed.
Your big, canopied, comfy looking bed…
He swallows hard, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.
How cute; he doesn’t even realize you’re watching him.
“Would you like some water?” Your voice brings him out of his dirty, filthy thoughts.
You snort softly, but he doesn’t even hear it. You go into the fridge and take out a water bottle. It’s not that you’re not nervous— you’re not exactly used to bringing men into your home very often, but something about Yunho feels so…
It’s a difference that puts you at ease and makes you feel safe.
“I’ll go get the fan,” You say as you hand him the bottle, “Please. Take a seat.”
He immediately does as you ask, settling into the really comfortable, surprisingly high-quality couch. You go into the tiny hallway and get the fan out of the hall closet.
He waits patiently, until you reappear with the fan and a small, pink tool box, “I don’t know exactly which tools you’ll need but my dad put this box together for me so you should probably be all set,” You laugh sheepishly, feeling a bit silly at how girly the box is (despite the fact you chose the color, yourself).
It’s the first time you’ve seemed to be even mildly embarrassed about anything tonight, and it makes him smile, “Okay, thank you. Here,” He stands and take the box from you, his fingers grazing yours again, as they had when you’d handed him back his phone yesterday,
And just as it had before, it makes him blush.
He comes back to the couch, setting everything down, and goes to examining the fan. You watch intently, seeing how he seems to lock into the task quite easily, like a duck to water.
He takes it apart, his eyes narrowing and relaxing, brows following suit as he pushes his tongue into his cheek.
Everything about this scene is absolutely erotic to you.
He’ll occasionally comment on something about a screw or the mechanism that helps it rotate— some mumbo jumbo that you’re hardly even listening to, because staring at this tall, slim-built man, repairing your five year old fan with tools he’s picking up out of your pink tool box…
It’s doing something to you that is absolutely inexplicable.
“These things really aren’t meant to last this long, honestly. You may have like, a repair or two left before you should replace it altogether,” He says, still looking down as he tightens the last few screws into place.
There’s no space on the couch since it’s a two seater and he’s go the tools right next to him, so, rather than asking him to move them, you casually walk over to your bed, which is a mere 5 feet away.
“Yeah, I’ll have to run to Home Depot soon or something,” You agree, still watching him.
He suddenly stands the fan upright, a proud smile on his face, “Okay, I think that may just do the trick. Let’s plug it in and see if it—” he turns to look at you, and abruptly stops talking, his smile faltering.
The sight of you there, sitting in your bed, propped up by your hands behind you, your chest sticking out slightly as you look at him—
It makes his breath catch in his throat.
“See if it…works?” You ask, tilting your head.
You feel it too. That sudden charge between the two of you; it’s unspoken but very palpable.
You nod toward the power strip that’s sitting on your night stand, just next to your bed,
He swallows hard, stuck for a second before he finally nods, “Okay, yeah…”
Like a timid, six-foot-one mouse, he walks over, fan in one hand like it weighs nothing at all, and the chord in the other.
His proximity makes your heart race in your chest, and you stare up at him unabashedly, despite his resistance to look you in the eye. His shyness makes you feel insatiable.
You can see the redness traveling much further than it had at any point throughout your little study session; this time it’s not just his cheeks and ears— it’s his entire face and neck.
“You okay?” You ask, the corner of your lips subtly tugging upward.
He nods, “Y-yeah, I’m just…” His eyes travel down to the chord in his hand, “—hot.”
You nod slowly, then, without a word, you take the chord out of his hand— which he lets you do without a single word’s protest— and you plug it in for him.
Immediately, the fan comes to life in his hand, as though it’d been working all along. It’s on the first setting so it’s not a strong current— just enough to make your lashes flutter when it blows in your face.
He looks down at you, his heart pounding in his chest. He feels like such a dweeb standing there, unable to speak, feeling so small under your gaze…but he can’t bring himself to move, whether toward or away from you.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Yunho?” You ask, your voice low and calculated.
“No,” He responds breathlessly.
“Really?” You ask, genuinely surprised.
Yunho’s a nerd, sure— but in terms of visuals, this man is handsome enough to even be on TV. It’s hard to believe he isn’t already snatched up…or gay?
“No,” He says again in the same tone, unbothered, almost like he’s used to the question already.
Wordlessly, you scoot over on your bed, patting the space next to you. He hesitates, not wanting to make a fool of himself by reading something into your actions or words that he shouldn’t be…but the way your eyes beckon him closer…it’s unmissable.
So, he obeys your wordless command and sits down, the mattress sinking with his weight. You turn slightly to be able to look at him better, leaving a little bit of space between the two of you.
He doesn’t turn— he won’t dare. If he does, he may burst.
“Tell me, why don’t you have a girlfriend?” You ask, the curious edge to your voice hardly hidden at all.
He remains quiet for a moment, his mind racing with so many thoughts.
“If you don’t want to share, that’s okay—”
“I was in a relationship for a few years…uhm, since high school, actually. It was about six years. She was my first girlfriend…” His hands begin to sweat a little bit, and he wipes them back and forth on his thighs; a nervous habit he’s had since he was a child.
You blink in surprise, “Oh— oh, wow. Really? That’s…a long time.”
“Yeah…uhm…she broke up with me a year ago.”
“She…” His embarrassment grows, but he presses on, “She felt I wasn’t as…assertive as she wanted me to be, I guess. Said I was too easy to push around…”
Immediately, you feel your stomach flip.
“Are you?” You ask, intrigued.
He laughs sheepishly, “I don’t know…I guess sometimes…”
“Do you miss her?” You ask without skipping a beat.
Your boldness overwhelms him; it makes him feel like a small child in front of an open car window: overwhelmed by the harsh wind but unwilling to move away.
He seems to genuinely think over your question, contorting his lips, grounding himself a bit to be able to answer.
“You don’t sound too sure…”
He pushes his glasses up nervously, “Well, I mean to say that…I think I’ve moved on, but I haven’t dated since then so, who knows what kind of unresolved feelings could be lingering that may spill out once I start.”
His honesty is refreshing— he really is different. Guys you’ve been on dates with are always trying to mask themselves; puff out their chests and make a show of bravado…but Yunho seems to sheepishly offer his truth like a dog exposing his soft belly.
It’d be nice to see him like that…on his back, exposing himself to you in submission…
“That’s true…” You bite your lip, wondering if you should ask the question you really…desperately want to ask.
He stares down at his hands, thankful that the fan’s still going, as it’s making it easier to dry off his sweaty palms. He knows it’s late, and he should probably go home— after all, the fan is fixed… mission complete.…
For some reason, he remains sitting. Like he’s physically unable to move from his spot without your say-so.
“Can I ask you a more personal question…?”
He feels the shift in your tone, and it makes his face tingle, like he may just have an idea of what you’ll ask next, though he nods his head, eager to know if he’s right, “Sure.”
“If she’s been your only girlfriend, and you haven’t dated since then…does that mean you’ve only…slept with one girl?” It’s a bold question, you know, and not one you’d ordinarily ask someone so soon— but he just makes it so easy to be bold.
His ears are crimson again, and you watch his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows. You wonder if he’ll answer at all.
He turns away from you, a bit embarrassed to face you so directly while he admits, “Yeah…she’s been the only one.”
She must think I’m such a loser, he thinks.
You watch him, your saliva pooling in your mouth as you take in his pathetic expression. This man is an absolute anomaly.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know,” You say casually, wanting him to relax a bit, “Plenty of girls are into that.”
“Into…what, exactly?” He asks.
“Into less experienced guys,” You shrug.
His heart races, and his knuckles turn white as he holds on to a wrinkle in his pants, gripping it for dear life.
“I don’t know about that…” He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck.
Your smile grows wider, and you find yourself scooting closer to him. He feels the bed shifting, but he doesn’t dare look at you.
“Don’t believe me…? You want me to show you how I know it’s true?” You ask, in an octave so low, it almost blends in with the natural vibration of the room. If it wasn’t because you’re so close, he wouldn’t have been able to hear you at all…
But he does. He hears you. Loud and clear. His entire body goes rigid, and his skin gets goosebumps. Finally, he slowly turns to look at you, and when he sees just how close your face is to his, his brain seems to short circuit.
“What do you think, Yunho…? Should I show you?” You repeat, wanting his explicit permission.
Breathlessly, he nods, “Okay…y-yes…”
That’s all you need to hear before you’re inching the rest of the way, your thighs suddenly flush against his. His eyes are on your lips from the second you move in, but to his surprise, rather than kissing his lips, you go for the jugular.
You can hear his small gasp as you attach your lips to his neck, sucking just hard enough for him to feel, but soft enough not to leave a mark. He keeps his hands in his lap, but his fingers twitch wildly with desire to touch you. You feel it— his eagerness, but you don’t acknowledge it. Not yet.
“Yunho…” You whisper into his neck, and you don’t see it, but his eyelids flutter at the gentle sensation.
“I’m gonna take your shirt off, alright?” You say, pulling yourself away from his throat.
He looks at you for a second, and when your words click in his brain, he instantly brings his hands to the hem of his shirt to take it off, but you quickly stop him,
“No, no…” You slowly stand from your spot and walk directly in front of him, your index fingertip coming to his chin to tilt his face upward, “I want to do it.”
His pupils dilate as you speak to him with such a firm, yet gentle voice. He nods hurriedly, “Yeah, okay…”
He keeps his arms at his sides, focusing on staying loose for you— but when you reach down and lift his shirt up, your hands graze his sides and he can’t help but flex his abs involuntarily from the ticklish feeling.
You smile, “Does it tickle?”
“A little…” He admits, flushing red.
You keep your hands on his hem, but you go in and unexpectedly kiss his cheek, which makes him, yet again, want to burst.
Slowly, you bring the thin fabric upward, exposing more and more of his torso, “Lift your arms.”
He does so, and you take it off the rest of the way— and my goodness, is this boy a sight to behold.
His clothing is misleading; one might think he was thin and lanky— an illusion given by his looser fitting clothing, but his bare body reveals a different story: toned abs, muscular arms, and a soft v-line poking out from the top of his jeans—
Though none of it compares to this beautiful face— and the way he’s looking at you? With those gorgeous, need-filled, dark, brown eyes that are just begging you for more.
“You’re so beautiful, Yunho.”
Your praise makes him dissolve like cotton candy in water; no one’s ever called him that before.
“I think…you’re even more beautiful,” He says earnestly.
His compliment makes your entire body tingle. You bring your hand up to the side of his face, caressing gently, your thumb coming to sweep softly against his bottom lip,
“What do you want, Yunho?” You ask, eyes on his lips as you await his answer.
“I…I want whatever you want,” He says between shaky breaths.
“Whatever I want? You sure?” You ask, locking eyes with his.
He nods wordlessly, fighting the urge to nuzzle into your touch.
“What if I want something weird?” You snort.
“Mm…” You step closer, moving your hand from the side of his face, to the the front of his hair, pushing it up—almost like you’re petting him, “What if…I want you to get on your knees and bark?”
His expression is unwavering— filled with desire for you, and after less than a beat, he says,
In this moment, your entire body shudders with want for him. Seems like getting partnered with him was exactly the lottery win you knew it’d be.
“Your ex was right, Yunho,” You say, suddenly grabbing his neck with one hand, just hard enough to surprise him, “You are easy to push around.”
His breath seems to catch in your grip, but he has no complaints. You can hardly stand that fucking look on his face— but with something this good, you can’t be too hasty.
“Lay back,” You hiss, dropping your hand from his throat. Immediately, he lays back, his elbows propping him up so he can continue looking at you.
His eyes shut, his breathing picks up, and he waits. He waits, what feels like, ages— because all you can do is stare at him. This perfect man who seems to be willing to fulfill whatever wish you have.
Finally, he feels you climb on top of him— straddling his waist with your legs. He wants so badly to open his eyes, but he fights it.
“You’re so obedient,” You say in that same low, sultry voice.
His entire torso turns red, “Th-thank you.”
“Tell me again what you want?” You say, taunting him as you settle in on his lap.
“That doesn’t sound convincing.”
You begin moving slowly back and forth on his pelvis, layers of fabric preventing either of you from feeling a whole lot, and yet, you’re both getting progressively more turned on with every movement.
His jaw hangs open slightly, “Whatever you want— I want whatever you want.”
You smile, grinding down a bit harder, “You promise?”
“I promise,” He echoes without hesitation.
You pause your movements momentarily, straightening up just so you can shed yourself of your hoodie and tee-shirt, leaving you in just your bra and pants.
You resume your previous position, “Open your eyes.”
He flutters them open, and when he sees you, topless and grinding on him, he has to concentrate really hard on not busting in his pants.
“Oh fuck,” He mutters under his breath.
“Such a dirty mouth for such a good boy,” You say breathlessly.
His entire body heats up at your words.
You stare at his pretty face, his hair already getting more and more disheveled.
“Lay all the way back,” You instruct.
He lets himself down off his elbows and lets his arms rest completely at his sides against the soft comforter. He stares up at the ceiling, awaiting your next move, to which you respond by dipping low, your breath hovering just over his left nipple, “You can tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable, okay?” You reassure him.
Without another word, you lick his nipple. He gasps at the unfamiliar sensation, but he doesn’t respond negatively at all; in fact, he feels his cock twitch in his pants. How he wishes you’d free him from these suddenly tight pants.
Gently, you blow against the sensitive bud, watching as it hardens. You do it again and again, eventually glancing up at him, wanting to know what he thinks of what you’re doing, and when you see his eyes gently roll back, it makes you want more.
“Can- can I please touch you?” He asks.
You sit up a little, debating on whether or not to let him, though you decide to throw him a bone, “What do you want to touch?”
“Anything,” He says, picking his head up to look at you, “Everything…” he drops it again with a deep exhale.
You smile, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction at his desperation. Your hands reach behind you to unclasp your bra, and you fling it on the floor somewhere behind you. He stares at your bare chest, his mouth watering when he sees your erect nipples.
You grab his hand and bring it up to your breast, all the while, watching his reaction as he begins gently kneading the soft flesh.
Without his conscious permission, his hips slowly roll against your pelvis, desperate for some sort of friction. At this point, he’s so hard it’s starting to ache.
“Want me to take it out?” You ask, raising a brow at him.
His hips immediately stop moving, but he doesn’t let go of your breast, “Take…what out?”
He blushes again, “If-if you want to…then…yes.”
“Why are you so shy, Yunho?” You smile, “It’s not like you’re a virgin.”
“I…I’ve just never done anything like this before…”
“Like what? Foreplay is pretty basic, right?”
“My ex and I…we…we would just kiss and touch a little bit and then do it…” He says shyly, averting his gaze from yours.
He makes your heart ache when he acts like this; so green.
“Do you want to do more than just kiss and touch a little bit?”
He nods slowly, looking at you like you’re his very own Venus, in the flesh, “Yes.”
Without another word, you get off his lap and go straight for the button on his pants, “Then let’s do more.”
His heart is racing, filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You’re around the same age, sure, but he feels so behind in many ways— but you…you seem to be just what he needs to fill in the gaps of inexperience.
You manage to hook your fingers on the waistband of both his pants and underwear, pulling down slowly. He lifts his hips slightly off the bed to help you a bit. His excitement grows the lower you bring his clothes, until finally, his throbbing cock springs upward from where it’d been previously restricted.
“Yunho,” You say breathlessly as you admire his sheer length, sinking to your knees.
His chest rises slowly, swelling with pride at your reaction to his size; the one thing he was always confident about.
You catch the way the corners of his mouth curl upward slightly. His sudden confidence fills you with a mix of desire to keep him smiling, while simultaneously wanting to break him down.
You take his length into your hands, and instantly, that proud smile rapidly dissipates.
“Have you ever had oral sex, Yunho?” You ask, looking up at him.
He sees how your typically friendly eyes morph into something more cat-like in nature; cunning and hungry.
“No…” He breathes, “She…she didn’t really like to do that stuff.”
“Aw,” You say sorrowfully, “How boring.”
He’s about to say respond, but you steal the words from him as you lick a stripe up from the base of his dick, to the tip, “Mmm…” You hum in delight.
His jaw hangs open slightly; an involuntary reaction to the delicious sensation.
You do it again, but this time, you linger on his tip; licking all around it. His hips buck a little as you lap up the salty pre-cum that begins leaking from his pretty, pink tip.
You glance down at how his fingers clutch at your comforter. He’s craning his neck to try to see you, but you see him struggling.
Good. Let him struggle a little.
Finally, you give his tip a little kiss, before fully taking him into your mouth.
Your ears perk up at the sound of his low groan. Two seconds in, and he already wonders how he’s gone his entire life without something so natural; something so…so fucking good.
You bin your head up and down, occasionally releasing him from your mouth to breathe. The room is filled with wet, sucking noises that fill you with heat.
“Yeah…shit, yeah…ahh….” He moans, eyes closing as he lets his head fall back.
You keep at it, wanting to see him fall apart. If there’s one thing you want to see tonight, it’s him in a mess of sighs and moans.
“Shit…oh, shit,” He starts sounding a little bit like he might cry, which only drives you further. “Mmmm….mhm…” You moan against his cock.
“Y/n…” He breathes out your name like the word itself tastes of sugar, “Y/n…I-I think I’m close.” He shuts his eyes tightly, but you rip your mouth away, continuing to pump, “Don’t shut your eyes. I want you to watch.”
He opens them as you command, but he struggles to keep them open. Finally, he’s able to fix his gaze on you. You’re so beautiful like this, he thinks.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” He says, his breath coming out in short spurts.
It’s ample time for you to pull away, but see, that wouldn’t be very fun— so, rather than pulling away to let him finish, you keep your mouth there, sucking to your hearts content until he’s completely spilling into your throat.
“Ahhhh- ahhh,” He whimpers desperately, bucking his hips into your mouth, fucking it for a few seconds longer before he finally slows his pace, giving you a chance to pull yourself away— and when you do, he watches intently as you swallow.
“You- you didn’t have to—” he struggles to speak, but you stop him, “Shhh…”
He immediately stopped talking.
You watch as his heavy breathing slows, and you go to sit proudly next to him on your bed while he recovers.
“Can I…can I try on you, now?” He asks, his big, brown eyes hopeful and eager.
You can’t help but smile down at him, “Not tonight…I have class in the morning.”
He blinks in surprise at you turning down his offer, though he doesn’t argue or plead. He takes no for an answer each and every time— but in truth, he wants nothing more than to get on his knees and beg you to give him just a small taste before sending him on his way.
He slowly sits up, looking for his shirt on the floor. He finally spots it by the kitchen— he hadn’t realize how far you’d flung it.
The back of his head is a disaster, sticking up every which way, and you reach over and fix it. Even that small graze of your finger tips dragging down his neck makes him harden again, and you notice, but you don’t acknowledge it
You’re playing the long game here; wouldn’t want to spoil something good by doing too much at once—
Plus, you love the way he’s already blushing again and trying to hide his erection.
He slides his pants and underwear up swiftly, and then goes over to get his shirt. You, walk over to your dresser and grab a tee shirt, putting it over your topless torso. He couldn’t help but sneak a few glances when you weren’t looking. He could stare at you all day, if you let him.
Once you’re clothed, you walk over to him, a small, gentle smile on your face as you look up at him. He can’t help but smile back, looking down at his feet, “Uhm…th-thank you for- for tonight.” You snort softly, “No one’s ever thanked me for a blowjob before.” He laughs bashfully, “Really? Wow…how, uhm…rude of people.”
You give him a big laugh, much like the laugh you let out at the café; loud and unashamed.
“Get home safely, Yunho…I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow…I’ll see you tomorrow,” He nods and bows his head slightly, opening your door up and walking out. He gives one more wave as he stands in the hallway, then turns and walks down the same way you’d come.
You watch as he walks down to the end of the hallway and out the door onto the street.
Tag list: @yunhospinkyring 🫰🏽
