FixOnReadingYu

Here I’ll reblog all the fics I’ve read and wanna read

[yundeob]

pretty woman | JYH pt. 3

part 3 of the Night in Hollywood!Series

☆ trope: 1990s inspired au, sugarbaby and rich older man, contract relationship

☆ pairing: exstripper!reader x billionaireceo!yunho

☆ chapter warnings: profanity, drinking, age gap (yunho is 37, reader is 26) SMUT — penetration, oral f receiving, cum play, petnames, overstímulation, being fucked until ur unconscious, sort of exhibitionsim(?) - mile high club lessgo, grinding, fingering (f recieving), spítting, manhandIing, slight humiliation kink, marking/hickies, multiple orgasms, creampies, nipple sucking, nipple play, talking you through it, stretching/size kink, begging, unprotected sex (pls don't do it irl), some really angsty themes and heartfelt moments towards the end! i know i say it takes place in the nineties but i kinda fell off with that theme bc they have cellphones and don’t really talk like it’s that time period oops

☆ synopsis: LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multi billionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for in the so called 'land of dreams'. So the proposal is simple really… let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .

☆ playlist: material girl by madonna, oh, pretty woman by roy orbison, versace on the floor by bruno mars, dirty cash (money talks) by the adventures of stevie v, - and for the finale, I recommend ending it off by listening to easy lovers by piero piccioni♡

☆ a/n: the final chapter is here! *sobs* thank you for SO patiently keeping up with the series! perhaps i'm biased bc yunho is my fav but I just had to go a little more 'all out' for this story of his^^ please don't forget to reblog and i hope you enjoy...

☆ word count: 14k

m.list | pt 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

WHEN YUNHO MENTIONED A PRIVATE JET you expected something small, given the simple picture he painted.

As you’ve discovered these past few days, Yunho dramatically underestimates the word simple. 

For him, simplicity meant reclining in the sleek cabin of a luxury jet almost forty thousand feet in the air, decorated with high-quality leather seats and glossy mahogany wood that shined as you were served chilled glasses of cabernet. 

Thanks to an eventful night, you two were in an even better mood than usual, and that was apparent by the multiple refills of wine and champagne shared amongst other things such as teasing glances and flirty touches…

The day started off like any other adventure with your tall, handsome, and ridiculously wealthy employer. A morning in L.A, an afternoon in Vegas, followed by an evening wrapped up in starlit San Francisco— the city you took off from just now.

After receiving such lavish gifts which included shopping tours, yacht rides and an impressive visit to his personal vineyards, the CEO’s last gift to you was an opera performance you could’ve only imagined to experience in your dreams. 

“It’s called La Traviata”, your polished and tuxedo-clad date spoke into the shell of your ear, just as you arrived at your destination earlier that night.

He had guided you up the white marble steps of the entrance, offering his arm to you as he stood tall and unfairly handsome against the crowd. Many other similarly dressed men filled the space. A whole sea of them stood with their wives— for some, their mistresses— flaunting expensive clothing and freshly botoxed faces. 

In similar timing, an uncomfortable thought momentarily entered your mind: 

Were you too, just another shadier and even more disposable reflection of these upper class elites?

You glanced over to stare at Yunho, lingering on the idea of how ridiculous it may appear to someone who knew you were a former Hollywood Boulevard stripper attending a high-society opera performance with her billionaire date. 

However, the flash of anxiety disappears and reshapes itself as soon as you feel the intimidating stares and hear the hushed whispers. Gossip swirls around the crowd of esteemed guests who wondered about who you were— the lady in red accompanying their most well-known and eligible bachelor.

Yunho’s voice saves you from your worries once again.

“I think you’ll like tonight's performance,” he admits, softly calling to your name. He looks down, holding eye contact with you and only you, disregarding any other individual that distracts him from admiring your beauty under this antique chandelier tonight. 

You’re reminded again of how easy you become lost with Yunho.

Lost in his world, even if it didn’t always accept you.

All it takes is a sweet look and you seem to fall right for his stupidly charming manners and protective presence. You smiled back nervously, the rubies embedded in the diamond necklace displayed on your collar bones, rising upwards as you inhaled to swallow back your nerves. 

“There’s a lot of people here.” you muttered the obvious, biting your rouge coloured lips as you looked a little intimidated. 

Yunho chuckles and holds onto your hand tight, leading you effortlessly. 

“Let’s go find our seats then.”

The talk dies down as you arrive on the upper floors, a private balcony reserved with comfortable seats and complimentary opera glasses too. 

You quickly turn to Yunho.

“You hate heights though,” you pointed out, brows furrowing. 

The businessman chuckles, taking a seat and crossing his legs as you stand to admire the balcony. 

“But they’re the best ones.”  

When the curtains rise a few minutes later, revealing the opening act alongside booming orchestral music, your heart nearly jumps out of your chest.

It’s easy to become so immersed from the beginning, eyes glued to the stage for the next two hours as you sat the longest Yunho thinks he’s ever seen you go without fidgeting. 

It felt too soon for the night to transition into what was now the final scene— the trembling voice of the baritone’s final words to his dying lover, as she succumbs to her tragic death in his arms. 

Your heart pounds at the sight, the stage becoming blurry as the music grows stronger for the finale. 

And all at once, the curtains close and the opera ends.  

You clap the loudest out of everyone sitting near your area once it’s over, and Yunho is pleased nonetheless to see your vivid reaction to the performance. 

Carefully, his hand slides over to hold your own. 

“I believe you enjoyed it then?” he teases, taking out a handkerchief and offering it to you as you sniffle on the way to the elevator. An unforgettable ache settles in your chest from the beautiful tragedy, quickly nodding back with no other words to say except how beautiful it was as tears filled your eyes. 

Your first introduction to the world of opera ended that evening with an arm latched onto Yunho’s, following the crowd out into the street of waiting cars and limousines. 

“What was your favorite part?” Yunho asks, the corners of his mouth already raised as he wants to hear more of your thoughts, anticipating an enthusiastic response. 

“God, it has to be the moment from the garden,” you gushed, your cheeks aching from smiling too much. “There’s no other scene that was more romantic!”

He wrapped his coat around you as you spoke on and on about the singing and the storyline, ensuring you weren’t cold as a night breeze swept past. 

“Thank you, Yunho,” you turn to him and say once you finish, reaching the tips of your heels as you try to peck him on the cheek. He leans down to meet you halfway.

“I’ll never forget tonight.” 

Your smile causes Yunho to exhale shakily, trying to calm his beating heart and come up with a proper reply back, before something catches your attention from the corner of your eye.

You do a double take to realize a brightly lit hotdog stand was running just across the street. He follows your line of vision.

“Let’s go,” you grinned, tugging on the sleeves of his suit without sparing him another glance. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Yunho chuckles, judging the dingy street food stand as his brows knit together in a rare display of stubbornness. 

“Yes, but not for that.” 

You almost scoff in his face. “Oh c’mon, Yunho,” you say, interlocking your hands together and insistently dragging him towards the mouth-watering smell.

“You said you were hungry!” 

He had no defense against you. 

When you reach the hotdog stand, the billionaire stands stiff beside you, hands tucked into his pockets in clear hesitation at the questionable sanitary conditions.

“Sweetheart,” he bends down, muttering into your ear whilst pointing towards the unchanged grill.

“That is not safe, nor fine dining.”

Rolling your eyes, Yunho watches helplessly as you step towards the vendor whilst fishing out a few bills from his own wallet in the pocket of the coat draped over you. 

“Two hotdogs with a bit of everything on them, please,” you asked the man, glancing back to the billionaire with an excited smile. 

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little weiner, Yunho.”

He frowns, having kept his arms crossed since he entered the vicinity of the cart. 

“I’m not scared,” he replies calmly. “I just don’t see why anyone would willingly consume something made… from here” he pauses, interpreting the picture of a giddy animated sausage on cart sign.

The vendor being a much older man, shuts your sweet date up with one good stare. 

Two hotdogs in hand, you thank the owner sweetly and bring Yunho off to the side so you can eat. If he was skeptical at first, hopefully he’d be more convinced by the smell of caramelized onions and smoked sausage wafting through your noses as you handed him one. 

He looks at the greasy foil.

“I can have my staff make you something on the jet. Something with actual nutritional—”

But you’ve already beaten him to it, taking your first bite of sausage and bun and drowning out his words as you smiled in bliss. 

“Oh god,” you groaned dramatically, eyes shut as you consumed the satisfying food. 

Yunho watches you carefully with reluctant amusement, one hand still buried in his pockets that has yet to unwrap the silver foiled hotdog. 

Seeing how happy you were makes him reconsider. 

All jokes aside, what was he waiting for? If the taste was that special to you, he wanted to experience it as well. 

Yunho takes his hand out from his pocket and unwraps the foil, bending down to take a big, solid bite encasing sausage, condiments, and toppings. 

It was quiet for a moment, both of you chewing slowly before your date reluctantly smiles with full cheeks, nodding his head.

“It’s good…” 

You grin proudly, swiping a pickled jalapeno slice off of his hotdog.

“Not so bad, right?”

And just like that, you and Yunho shared a casual yet comfortable dinner before heading back onto the private jet. Two hot dog combos and many shared conversations later, fast food wrappers laid scattered across the glass table. A bottle of champagne and fresh white peaches present for dessert. 

“So,” you grinned proudly, shuffling your bare feet closer on the seat as your heels laid discarded somewhere. 

“I just introduced you to your first hotdog, then?”

The bowtie of Yunho’s black tuxedo is long gone, draped carelessly over the armrest, as the older man leans back into the leather seat. The dim cabin lights cast a soft golden hue across his jawline as he gestures to the mess on the table. 

“I’ve had them before,” he corrects, like it’s a fact of deep importance that he’s not that bred in upper class luxury. 

You suspected the opposite.

“Well the ones you had probably weren’t even real,” you argued with a roll of your eyes, imagining hor d'oeuvre cocktail sausages or something else ridiculous. 

“If a ‘real’ hotdog comes from a dingy little stand on the corner of a street, then sure,” he says with a bite of amusement. “I'll let you educate me then.” 

You hold down a smile. “See! You’re learning!”

Yunho shakes his head, revealing a full smile which tells you he’ll let you have this one. 

Who knew this would be so natural with someone like him. That despite the expensive tours and shopping sprees, what fulfilled you the most these past few days was sitting here, barefoot, eating three-dollar hot dogs, discussing life and the events of your separate pasts. 

It’s true that the world you're flying above right now belongs to people like Yunho. People with money, wealth, and unlimited freedom. But right now, up here in these clouds, it feels like this tiny corner of the sky belongs to you too.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” he asks while sitting across from you, eyebrows raising as he takes another swig of champagne. 

Your head rests against the fabric of the leather seat, eyelids shutting closed as you ponder. 

“It'll be my last day,” you mumbled carefully, the clarity of your words catching you off guard the second they leave your mouth. 

Yunho stills for a moment. 

“That can’t be.” the billionaire murmurs back, holding his gaze on the rim of his wine glass. It doesn’t settle with him well either. 

The cabin goes quiet all of a sudden. Empty, yet filled with realization neither of you wants to name. It was all according to your agreement.

Four days.

Eight thousand dollars.

That was the deal. 

To think you’d place so much weight on a job that was always meant to be short-lived. It was hard to believe time had gone by so quickly.

Very soon, this fairytale lifestyle you’d been living with would disappear with a simple goodbye, and you and Yunho would return to your respective places in the world. Him, conducting meetings, flying in private jets, and bargaining billions over company titles, while you remained as a waitress, barely making enough to afford milk that was past its expiration date.

The chain of events set into motion the night that armed gunman tried to rob the convenience store, had led you somewhere you’d never imagined possible. Meeting Yunho, spending time with him—having him care for you so effortlessly and spoiling you with money, but also more warmth and tenderness than you knew what to do with— felt unreal. 

You’ve spent your whole life yearning for someone like Yunho. But it's hard to consider whether someone like Yunho could ever need or be satisfied with someone like you.

Imperfections and all.

“I feel as though I still know so little about you,” he says, breaking your inner monologue as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 

“Tell me, what was your past like? I’m curious to know what you were like in your early twenties” he grinned, amused at the thought of an even more bold and unafraid image of yourself.

You find yourself looking away.

Young, dumb, and dancing naked for money. That’s what you were doing in your early twenties. 

“...I used to dance.” you responded with a tinge of hesitation, swallowing lingering discomfort down your throat that always followed when you brought up your past. 

It wasn’t entirely a lie. You just left out the part that you danced to entertain people waving wads of cash that would keep you from resorting to worse situations awaiting you on the streets.

For you, and for countless girls like Miko you’d met during those nights at the club, it had all been about survival. You weren’t completely ashamed of your previous job, and that’s because it was more than just how others saw it and because you knew that it isn’t something anybody can do. 

Sure, at first you thought the experience was manageable. Fun even. Though that was probably because you were young and uninformed. But with no real backup plan and no proper college degree, dancing was a way to get by. Convincing yourself the sore muscles, unfair treatment, and wandering hands were simply things you had to endure. As though your entire existence was for anyone’s taking, disposable and easily forgotten. 

After obtaining your current job, you realized how important it was to make choices that didn’t force you to go back to that life. 

“A dancer?” Yunho repeats. “I never knew you danced,” he smiled warmly. 

“I work as a waitress now” you replied back, unknowingly picking at the nail of your thumb in habit. “It’s not much, but it’s better than what I was doing before”

It was at this moment you found yourself standing on the edge of something you didn’t know how to step into, words staying stuck behind your teeth. Telling Yunho about your past felt less like honesty and more like setting yourself up to be judged—like another lap dance you weren’t sure you had the guts to finish.

Yunho doesn’t rush you. He never does.

Instead, he studies you in that observative way of his. Like he already knows everything you can’t bring yourself to say. He exhales softly, standing from his seat to shift closer beside you, pulling a soft, folded blanket from somewhere.

Without asking, he drapes it around your shoulders, tucking it in as though he’s trying to keep you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Then, you feel his hand come up to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch careful enough that it felt almost like permission.

“You know, people like to create stories out of what they can see.” His gaze drops for a moment, deciding how much of himself he can give you in return.

“In my case, it’s a bit ironic. Everyone sees the heir. The family name. The brand that can become just another financial asset…”

You stare back into his eyes, listening carefully. 

“People think they understand the shape of my life just because they can name it.” Yunho states laced with a heavy tone.

“But what most people don’t see… is that I was adopted. And a lot of what I’ve been called—what I’m expected to be—was decided long before I even understood what any of it meant.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, unadorned and leaving you in a bit of shock. You think back to the conversation with the Chairwoman, the night Yunho had that business dinner. 

“No one can learn much when they're surrounded with shadows, darling. But in truth, that’s all that Yunho has had up until now.”

“Business makes it worse,” he continues quietly. “Because it’s never really about truth. It’s about perception. About what people choose to believe is true. And sometimes that perception gets twisted—by ambition, by greed, and…” his words die off, knuckles clenching around the fabric of his pants as if he’s recalling a distasteful memory.

“... by people you thought would know better. Even family.”

There’s a brief pause, something heavier flickering behind his expression. You already know what he means by your conversation with Madame Choi.

She hinted towards something about Yunho's past, the strained relationship he had with his relatives clawing for the title of heir.

In an act of support, you reach and grab his shaking hand, taking it away from digging itself in him and interlocking fingers with his own. 

It was your way of telling him you were here. That you were listening. 

“I’ve always had people close to me try to take pieces of my life like it was just… up for claiming,” he says, more factually than bitter. “And I learned early that no one is really what they look like from the outside. Not completely.”

Panic settles in as you worry he's caught on.

Instead, his eyes return to you now softer, shifting the weight away.

“I’m not telling you this because I’m perfect. I’m telling you because I’m not. No one is.”

A small breath leaves him, like he’s releasing something he’s held for too long. Yunho leans closer, careful with what comes next.

“Y’know, I think everyone is deserving of a bit of grace. To be given another chance. Even that stupid boy, Choi San, who won’t let me buy his grandparents company” he jokes flatly, gaze flickering over your face when you let out a small chuckle. 

He thinks he could crack a million more bad jokes if it means he’ll hear that sound again. 

Yunho pulls you much closer, his nose almost hitting your own as he refuses to let your strict self-judgment distort the image you carried of yourself.

“So if you feel out of place, like you’re an imposter in this world, let me tell you I’ve been doing the same all my life. I feel as though I’m living a lie every single fucking day” he mutters, the two of you sharing breaths now from the close proximity. 

Your breathing changes, feeling the warmth of his body close to your own. 

The billionaire’s voice softens, keeping it steady. 

“As someone who lies to live, and works among people who lie just as easily, I’ve learned to value authenticity. It’s not about what others think." he states.

"People will always see what they want to see anyway.”

Suddenly, his eyes flicker down to your soft lips, parting with a distinct type of desire. But he doesn’t kiss them just yet. 

“And what I see is a very bright…”

First, a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Very beautiful…”

A kiss to your nose.

And he stops in front of your lips before whispering softly. The truth he's starting to believe in more than his painstaking business deal.

“...very special woman.”

Silence fills the space between you, the sounds of the plane engine whirring as you look into the eyes of the man sitting in front of you.

Yunho releases a small breath when you lean forward to collide your lips with him, connecting your mouths in yearning and full vulnerability. The air in his lungs is knocked out, hungrily reaching and grabbing at each other just to feel the sensation of your lips connecting in undwindling passion. 

A squeeze and grope follow here and there with each other's bodies, tongues swirling with utter obsession.

Yunho immediately reciprocates your bold move by pulling your body closer to his, fighting a straining feeling that builds in the confines of his pants. It doesn’t feel like it’s enough for Yunho, so his two strong arms grip around your waist, pulling your lips apart momentarily in a surprised, breathy moan, as you’re now maneuvered to straddle thick, strong thighs. 

“I meant everything I said,” he whispers breathily, a large hand coming to stroke the back of your head softly as the other grazes your face so you look at him properly. 

“You are special."

An overwhelming sense of gratitude floods your emotions. You didn’t notice it at first, but fresh tears have escaped your eyes, coating your eyelashes as you look back at Yunho.

The older one brings a thumb to cascade over your wet cheeks. 

“C’mon now, don’t cry sweetheart” he grins softly, feeling the need to protect yet also tease the sight of you becoming all teary eyed and begging for his touch.

He presses a quick kiss back to your lips once more, pulling back to whisper tantalizingly into your year.

“You haven't even taken my cock yet.” 

That’s when you realize tears weren’t just dripping down your cheeks, but now also down your legs.

Yunho was determined to show just how hungry he was for you. Just how much he wanted to love you, to fuck you, to taste and share only the good things in life with the women he just met four days ago in a dingy convenience store on Hollywood Boulevard.

That night must've really changed both your lives.

Whimpers escape your throat as you attempt to taste Yunho’s devotion. Your knees struggle to support your body weight, keeping you hovering over his crotch with carefulness not to sit down on the aching mound just yet, though you’re curious of the sensation it'll bring.

Yunho lets his hands settle around your waist, grip firm as he releases tension you were holding on to, pulling apart to finally give you both some breath.

“C’mon sweetheart. You can sit on it.”

He was starving for a taste of you. 

“Yunho.”

Your breath hitches as his hands wander, pushing your thighs to relax and spread even more so your wet core settles over the gigantic mound of fabric hiding his leaking, hard cock. 

“Fuck,” he stutters, his breath tickling your neck and he inhaled your scent deeply. He was unstoppable, he just had to feel you. 

“I want you,” he mutters, coming out muffled against bare skin. “Want you so bad.” 

You were no different. Pawing at the buttons of his crisp white shirt that was becoming wrinkled with every passing second you gripped and released the material, finding something to hold on to as your hips rocked back and forth slowly, nudging your leaking bud against imposing layers. 

“Ah- Yunho-” you gasped, feeling him kiss the crook of your neck, his mouth growing wider and more insatiable as he trails further down, drool forming near the corners of his mouth. 

Never of you had been this needy before.

“You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you sweetheart?” he groans, letting a large hand smack the flesh of your ass covered by your dress. A whine rolls off your tongue, echoing in the quiet passenger cabin as you nod fervently, disoriented sounds leaving you while clutching onto his shoulders to keep your soaking cunt attached to his pants. 

Yunho brings a hand to slide over your shivering bare thighs, exposed to the cool air because of the small leg slit you had on the side of your dress. With every touch, the slit stretches wider in your position, making you weak to the billionaire’s greed. 

He grits his teeth, staring at your breathless expression when he shoves your lace panties to the side and lets the long digits of his index, middle and ring finger slide against the slick of your cunt. 

“Jesus, you’re fucking soaked.” he grunts, throwing his head back as his digits do all the work in opening you up for him. Then all at once, he dives all three in, stretching you out perfectly like no had ever done before.

You scream, overwhelmed by how full you already feel with his two thick fingers. 

“Oh p-pleaseee- fuck! s’too much Yunho!” you pant like a whore, making him stretch his fingers even wider to feel you suck him in so lewdly. 

“Slow down—” 

“Do you feel how deep I am, sweetheart?” he cuts you off, his hips jutting up so he too can achieve some sort of relief. You notice, a hand reaching down, traveling through the tight web of limbs help him by laying your palm over his hardness. Just a simple touch and—

“Hands off.” Yunho quickly orders, bringing your hand away as he holds onto your wrist tightly. 

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” he scolds, his business tone coming out as he orders you to only take his fingers, planning to save his cock for the one thing he wants most:

Your swollen, puffy cunt.

It’s incredibly unfair, how helpless you feel as his right hand pummels his digits faster into your hole, the sound of filthy squelching noises filling the room as he doesn’t even mind your cries of ecstasy.

“How many d’you think I’ve got inside you, hm?” he toys with you, getting off on your shaking body and quivering nub like the perverted CEO he was. You can’t even answer from the moans you’re releasing.

And here you thought Yunho was going to fuck you gently after all that talking. 

“Fucking tight,” a breath escapes his lips without even knowing.

You squirmed, eyes squeezing shut.

It seems as though there’s been a huge misunderstanding on the type of man Yunho was.

The businessman won’t waste time treating you like the queen you were— showering you with gifts, bags, clothes, and jewelry that can make you start to think he wants to put a ring on you and have you carry his babies. 

Which, with the way you’re taking him right now— quivering and crying out his name in broken little whimpers, even as his wrist starts to ache from how long he's been bullying his fingers in and out— he’s starting to genuinely consider it.

But you’ve been expertly deceived.

Yunho isn’t a gentleman. He’s one sick, obsessed bastard that longs to touch, finger, and fuck your gummy walls to a state of complete ecstasy.

“I… I really can’t hold on much longer—”

He loves that. Loves that you’re broken down to a mess of slick and sweat like this. He latches his mouth back onto yours as he feels you clench harder with every passing minute around his digits. 

“Gonna cum for me? My sweet, sweet girl is gonna cum?- hah fuck-” he coos, holding back and focusing on making you spill first.

He was almost there. He just needed to make you cum first and prep you real good so you could take him raw. 

“Yes Yes fuck- ngh Yes, Yunho–” you sobbed, too overstimulated to say anything else. Yunho releases the wrist he’s been holding onto since before, letting his hand come up to swipe some spit from his mouth before he shoves his wet fingers into the open cleavage of your dress, thumbing your sensitive tits with his drool.

Oh god, now he’s really done it.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” he grunts in one final thrust.

That’s what sends you over the edge completely, shoving your cries and open mouth moans into the fabric of Yunho’s dress shirt, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as your body convulses from the intense orgasm. Soft praises reach the shell of your ear.

“Look at you..” He coos proudly, kissing you gently on your cheek.

“Took my fingers like a fucking champ.”

You wince at the sudden emptiness as he pulls out, despite him trying to slide his fingers slowly for your sake. 

You lean back to watch the man with tired eyes, feeling a shiver run down your spine as Yunho maintains full eye contact while bringing his tongue out to lick at your slick. Closing his eyes and groaning pathetically at how sweet you tasted.

“Fucking pervert,” you exhaled, ignoring the deep laughs proudly leaving the CEO’s sweaty chest under his unbuttoned dress shirt.

It’s not long before the rest of the buttons are opened, revealing his toned chest as the top of your dress gets shoved down to spill out your soft tits for Yunho to latch on to. 

“Yunho!” you reply in shock, not realizing how fast he was going to dive into them. “Slow down!”

“But I’m in love with your tits.” he confesses though it comes out muffled. As if justifying his hunger.

You’re still straddling Yunho’s thighs, though now, you’re in an awkward stage of being partially naked, partially clothed, with only the essential barriers out of the way for you to take his cock properly now. 

He unbuckles his pants to free his member, letting the long, girthy tip slap you against your abdomen as your dress has become ruined with the way it’s scrunched so high to reveal your ass completely. 

Yunho takes a hold of his shaft and pumps himself a couple times. You watch him as he does so, a spark shared between you two just as he taps his tip against your puffy folds. He’s ridiculously proud of the way he’s prepped you so well for him. 

“Ready?” he stills, taking a moment to hold back from the obsession to really make sure you wanted this. Wanted him. 

You nod, grinning softly. 

Long forgotten is the conversation you were going to have with him about your past. Now replaced with a bodily confession that was more important to you and him right now. 

You figure you’ll tell him later…

“Just take me, Yunho,” you pleaded softly.

He smiles, kissing you again as he finally swats his cock in between the leaky opening.

All at once, you feel his incredible girth that you were waiting for this whole time, stretching you out, and throwing your head back as far as it would go.

You nod, eyes clasped shut at the delicious feeling you craved. No one could fuck you this good again. 

“F-Fuuck, gorgeous…” 

Yunho keeps his strokes against your pulsating walls slowly but so precisely it drives you to the brink of insanity. And yet, he can’t seem to stop watching you in awe the entire time. The way you let out soft screams when he hits so deep, right in the perfect spot. The way your hair is let loose, messy and free while your back arches so sinfully yet beautifully. 

Your body felt holy. A temple for him to worship.

And he's purring in your ear, telling you how good you are to him, how well you're taking his fingers and how beautiful you look taking them

The squelching sound from before comes back, even louder this time as it accompanies each skilful pump of Yunho’s cock instead of his fingers. 

As you’re babbling upon his sheer length, Yunho clasps onto one side of your hips. Using the rest of the energy and strength he has in him, he helps you bounce on his dick, riding your godforsaken high through the shaking of your thighs. 

You squeeze around him, making him curse wildly. It’s enough to also whimper from the stinging feeling that comes back each time. 

“Please—”

You tense, feeling a familiar feeling creeping up on you.

“Please what?” He held firm even as you glared weak little daggers down at his face, looking up with his shirt open and a burning desire behind wild eyes. 

“Yunho I’m not kidding, I’m g-gonna–”

He’s too distracted, too lost in the intoxicating sight of his cock drilling through your hole, having not taken his eyes from where you were connected. He already knows what you mean. How close you were to finishing. So he changes his pace, rutting relentlessly, hips snapping harder as he chases the view of your tits shaking in his face, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck—yes.”

“Gonna cum?” He asks with baited breath. “Gonna let loose for me, my love?

You just whine, crying and bouncing and nodding and nodding because that was all you were capable of doing right then and there.

In a complete mess of sweaty limbs and hot, flushing cum, you both reach your pinacles. The pace turns slower, enough for you to hug Yunho closer and whisper words of chastisement for how rough he was with you. When Yunho calmly kisses you and asks if it was too much though, you can’t help but shake your head and sink your pussy deeper, showing him that you still loved every second of it. 

Just as he’s about to grab a tissue from nearby and clean you up, a soft bleep of the intercom echoes a slightly discomforted voice, stilling only Yunho’s body who has enough consciousness to register the current situation. You're too far gone, using a small remaining amount of energy to grip onto the fabric of his shirt for dear life.

“Um—Mr. Jeong,” the pilot’s voice crackles awkwardly through the speaker, followed by a brief pause that feels far too long to be professional. 

“We’ll be arriving at the hotel in about ten minutes, so I, uh…” another cough. “I ask that you please observe the seatbelt sign and fasten your seatbelts as we prepare for landing.”

A beat passes, raising your head to look drowsily up at Yunho when you hear a much quieter, comment from the pilot: 

“And—um. My apologies for the interruption.”

A small smile creeps upon your tired face, relief washing over you as Yunho holds you close and reassures you.

“Don’t move. I’ll take care of you.”

The promise sounds as soft as he’s ever been. He leans forward and grabs a glass of water for you to take a quick sip from, followed by a cloth to clean your slick.

“I’ll give you everything, all the money I have,” Yunho mutters in a state of hypnosis, eyes glistening as he looks down at you lying against his chest so peacefully.

You wonder if your ears deceive you when you hear a quiet plea that borders on begging.

“Just stay with me longer…” 

The last thing you remember is warmth.

And releasing a soft “Okay”.

When you come back to your senses, you find yourself stirring awake in a large, familiar bed, a vast cold area of mattress greeting you from beside. The empty sheets of cotton and silk surround you with a bare feeling of comfort as you squint at the clock on the bedside table. 

Four am. And Yunho was nowhere in sight. 

Your bare body shivers as you sit up and the covers fall down, exposing you to the empty room. Your head spins a little, probably from all the drinks you had earlier in the plane.

The plane.

Suddenly, it comes rushing back, the events that happened on the jet. Yunho’s confession — his way of telling you that you didn’t need to feel ashamed of yourself to him. The way you were going to tell him about your past and the reasons that led you to this point. 

And then the sex.

Your core almost tingles at the memory with Yunho. Fucking you so good you passed out unconscious. 

Sighing as you rubbed your temples, you reach for the nearest piece of fabric that could warm you up— his navy robe that sits on a chair nearby. 

The soft material weighs you down, it's sleeves clearly too big for you but not minding much as you step over the soft, carpeted hotel floor. When you shuffle out of the room and down the steps to the first floor, the wide city view through the windows captures endless buildings glowing against the night, showing a city that never seemed to need sleep at all.

Quite similar to someone you trying to find. 

As if on cue, your body does a little jump back in surprise when you turn and catch Yunho leaning against the marble countertop of the open kitchen, bare chested as a pair of blue gingham pajama pants hung low on his waist. 

“Jesus!” you muttered, squinting when you saw the tall man turn with what appeared to be a tub of half-eaten vanilla ice cream. The metal spoon was warm in his hands from grasping it for so long. 

“Did I wake you?” Yunho replies calmly, paying you no mind.

“I’m sorry,” he coos, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

You sigh, gently paddling over cold tiles as your hands reach and grasp the ice cream like it was yours. You inspect the container, brows quirking.

Yunho lets you do as you please, as if everything belonged to you. 

You sigh as the chilling taste of creamy rich vanilla hits your mouth, using his spoon to dig a shallow crevice in the melted dessert and feed on it. 

“You didn’t wake me…” you pointed out, feeling the man dip his head into the crook of your neck and leave kisses all along the area. You shivered from his cold lips.

“What are you doing up so late?” You asked, enjoying your ice cream whilst Yunho enjoyed you, inhaling your soft scent once more.

“You seemed so peaceful, I didn’t wanna disturb you” he mumbled. You smile quietly to yourself, realizing how this big, intimidating CEO of a powerful business corporation could easily mimic a lost puppy just by being in your presence.

“Yeah right. You probably just wanted this whole tub for yourself.” you muttered, feeling his lips turn upwards against your skin. 

Yunho raises his head to face you properly, caressing your face as he focuses on your features. You swallow carefully as you ask the next question.

“What happened after we landed?” 

His face is illuminated by moonlight. Yunho’s lips slowly grinned at the memory. “I cleaned you up, buckled you in, and we landed on the rooftop of the hotel where I brought you to my room to rest” he stated, bringing his right thumb to brush away the corner of your mouth as ice cream was left smeared. He brings it to his mouth, sucking the sweetness without breaking eye contact.

“Was I too much?” He can’t help but ask with caution, leveling with you as he gazes deep into your eyes. A look of concern flashes over his face. 

You shook your head, amused by his protectiveness. He brings his arms to connect around your waist, hugging you closer to inspect the hickies littered all over your neck. He almost gets hard again from the sight and hearing your answer at the same time.

“Nope. I liked it” you assured him, whispering seductively to his ear.

You break into laughter as Yunho playfully tickles the sides of your body in response. 

To be fair, your hickies weren’t that bad compared to his shoulder and back muscles left with various bites and scratches. Lingering evidence of hanging onto Yunho as he fucked you so well.

“Of course you did.” he sneers at you proudly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips as you swallow a bite of cream. 

You both taste incredibly sweet, and you fear it’s not just from the sugar. 

“Yunho..” you began as you pulled away, watching his eyes narrow in on your lips as he leaned forward in greed of another kiss. You stopped him as you put the ice cream container down the counter and rested your hands against his bare chest.

“Did you mean what you said on the plane?”

His eyes soften. 

“Of course I did. I think you’re a very spec—”

“—Not just about me. But about wanting me to stay… longer?” you drawled out carefully, looking up at him for an explanation.

Yunho pauses for a moment.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” you confess, breaking a wonderful illusion with realistic questions you knew you couldn’t just ignore.

Yunho furrows his brows.

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” he says, scanning your expression. 

When you look down, refusing to meet his eyes, Yunho gently hoists you up to sit on the counter, coming closer to look at you as his hands lean against the kitchen countertop and cage you in. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart” he pleads, his tone gentle and calm.

You inhale once and exhale quietly, waiting with baited breath to think of how you wanted to say this. 

You slosh the spoon around in the tub of melted ice cream beside you, searching for a distraction.

“I really don’t think I belong here,” you uttered softly, reality hitting you. 

Your thoughts are elsewhere—back to the history of judgement and outcasting you’ve experienced from so many people when they found out you were formerly a stripper.

How easily affection can be conditional.

Like the moment they all learned the truth, you stopped becoming human and started becoming temporary. Disposable. Something to indulge in quietly, then look down on openly.

Your own family, friends back home, even previous partners as well.

The worst thing about it was that they’re right. In their eyes, how could you not be easily discarded?

You believe Yunho would eventually think the same as well.

Cause at the end of the day, all you were was an escort that was paid for the sum of four days, just to provide him with company and sex that was hidden in various contract terms, that could never actually amount to more than what was agreed upon. 

He stills, as if he can listen to what you were thinking.

“But I think you’re exactly where you should be,” he says with such certainty. 

Your heart clenches from looking up and seeing Yunho continuously shower you with this endless affection you didn’t deserve. 

In habit, you begin to deny him first for your own sake. Refusing to get your hopes up as you tried to pull the billionaire from the outrageous idea. 

“I’m not,” you swallowed back, shaking your head. “I-I’m really not because if you realized what I’ve done, Yunho, you’d feel disgusted like any other-”

“Why should it matter where either of us are from or what we’ve done?” he protests, not holding back. 

“We’re together now, aren’t we?”

You exhale uncomfortably from his words. Probably because you know he’s being so sincere with you like he's always been, even when you haven’t done the same with him. 

Yunho takes the ice cream carton from out of your hand, placing it gently on the counter and slotting his body in between your spread thighs. You gasp, flinching when the cold marble comes in contact with your skin.

“I’ll prove it to you.”

It's not long before Yunho is eating you out, bare ass against his kitchen counter, grabbing onto cold marble for support as his jaw opens and closes with feverish tasting.

The conversation can’t slip away like this again!… you plead, brain fogging as Yunho presses compliments against the skin of your thighs.

“Don't bring yourself down, love.”

He pulls back, smooth, strong chest rising and falling as he captures the image of you spread out for him, moonlight catching on your wet, shiny bud as he gathers something in his mouth.

You jump when a forceful contact hits your sensitive mound.

Yunho just spit a dollop of saliva onto your pussy, watching with baited breath and pure obsession as it drips down your slit and into the deeper crevice. He shudders when your hole instinctively sucks it in.

Fucking. Hell.

“Yunho...” you muttered with a firmer voice, trying not to let your temptations distract you from what you’ve been meaning to tell him. 

If he has to hear the truth, it needs to come from out of your own mouth.

A faint ringing noise echoes from across the marble counter, a corded telephone echoing as a call comes through.

You look up, neck straining as you question the ringing so early in the morning.

“S’fine. Probably just front desk” he hushes, closing his eyes as he laps up your juices, his arms bulging as he grips your thighs open to prevent them from closing.

“Shouldn’t you answer it still?” you squirmed, moaning as Yunho shook his head, causing his sharp nose to brush against your nub too.

“Nope.” he mumbles, utterly lost in between your legs. It just doesn't sit right with you still.

“YUNHO” you breathed out loudly, finding the strength to push him back and grasp his wet chin, staring back at pussy-drunk eyes. 

“I think you should answer it” you huff firmly, growing weak when he sighs and pecks you on the mouth, sharing the taste of slick.

With a groan, his long upper body reaches for the phone, picking it up as he presses one last chaste kiss to your lips, sliding his hand on your spread thighs to grope you in the ass.

You slap him hard, yelping as he smirks evilly and brings the receiver to his ear.

“Jeong Yunho speaking”, eyes never leaving your own as he continues to kiss your legs. 

You shuffle, biting your lips at the ticklish feeling, unaware of the storm waiting on the other end of the line.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

It was his lawyer, Patrick. And he sure didn’t sound as happy Yunho was at the moment.

“Busy” he hums, continuing to tickle you with his obnoxious kisses. 

You scold him, softening when he intertwines his hand with your own.

“I can tell.” His lawyer’s voice comes out flat, hiding a grim, menacing tone. Papers shuffle aggressively through the speaker. 

“Tell me something, Yunho—was this weekend supposed to secure the Marinex corporation, or was it supposed to become a vacation?”

Patrick has finally earned his attention because Yunho’s expression immediately cools. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Patrick says bluntly. “You skip one of the most important acquisition meetings this quarter, leave the Choi family sitting there questioning whether you’re capable of rebuilding their company, and suddenly nobody can get a hold of you.”

Your smile leaves as you watch his expression fade, clutching Yunho’s robe closer to your body.

The CEO straightens slightly, forgetting his playful demeanor and replacing it with his business side he had coexisted with for all of his adult life. 

“I’ve talked to their grandson,” he argues. “The contract wasn’t finalized because of hesitation on Mr. Choi’s part, not because of me. I clearly pushed the agenda that we could rebuild his family's company and remake it into something triple the price he was offering–”

“No, Yunho” Patrick cuts him off coldly. “His grandmother made him hesitate because they think you’ve become distracted.”

A tense silence follows. 

“And we both know why.”

Yunho’s jaw tightens.

“It’s because of that girl, isn’t it?” Patrick mocks condescendingly into the phone. 

His eyes flick toward you instinctively. You stare back, a lump forming in your throat.

“Patrick,” he warns quietly, jaw clenching. But his lawyer continues.

“Well guess what? While you were off playing with your playboy bunny in Beverly Hills, the Choi family did their own digging.”

Yunho’s grip on the phone stiffens. 

“And I think you’re going to want to see what they found.” With a sigh, Patrick leans into his office chair and lights a cigarette while speaking into the phone.

“I sent a package to your suite and had them leave it on your kitchen counter.”

His eyes dart toward the thick brown file that’s gone unnoticed, sitting by itself on the edge across from you both. 

Your eyes slowly followed, grasping Yunho’s arm carefully as an ominous feeling fell upon the room. 

“Yunho, what is it?”

He leans forward and turns the cover.

The moment he opens the file, the air leaves the room. Photographs stare back at him instantly.

You beneath neon lights. Onstage. Lines of white powder served on your chest. Contorted into a vision of pure sex for hungry clients to see. 

Patrick puffs out a cloud of smoke as his voice lowers. 

“She’s a stripper, Yunho. You paid eight grand to let some washed up, crack-whore stripper spend the weekend with you.” Patrick snickers, venom laced in his voice. 

It all comes crashing down in an instant.

Because no matter how warm Yunho had made you feel, the truth of who you were finally followed you here too.

And suddenly, you feel so entirely exposed. Even while wearing a robe with his initials on it.

The carton of sticky vanilla ice cream somehow becomes spilled upon the marble countertops, leaving one giant mess.

At least this one could be solved. Your’s was a bit more complicated to say.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yunho states quietly, calling out your name. 

It’s frightening how calm he is. Not a single expression of disgust, resentment or anger building upon his face despite knowing how badly he must want to throw those awful photos in your direction.

Yunho would never. He’s too good for that. 

His question cuts deeper than it should. Typically, you would have retaliated with a bit more emotion. Confess with tears and beg for forgiveness as you explained your reasons. 

Instead, your laugh comes out hollow. This was the end of your contract either way. 

“Would you have looked at me the same if I did?”

His brows pull together immediately. “That’s not what I asked—”

“You didn’t know,” you interrupt, stepping back from him. “That’s the only reason any of this worked.”

Yunho exhales sharply, rubbing a hand across his jaw as the remaining pressure from the call still hangs over him like smoke. 

Patrick's quiet threat was more than just targeted to you. His words also held importance to that fact that if Yunho wanted to secure his highly expensive grand scheme of business relations he’s been building upon since his parent’s death — particularly by avoiding a news scandal with a former stripper— he would have to pull himself together and take care of his image with Marinex corporation first, as they had the upper hand in this case. And that meant surrendering to the Choi's.

“You liked me because you thought I could help you play it safe.” you fought back. "To relieve your needs and make you feel better."

“This isn’t about that.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Then what is it about?”

“The Marinex deal has completely fallen apart,” he says, frustration finally slipping into his tone. “Patrick’s losing his mind, the board’s probably already heard about this, someone has been investigating you, and now that bastard San is probably reveling in the fact that he’s gotten the best piece of dirt on me to give the press if I don’t—”

“So I'm the dirt.” you realize.

Yunho’s expression shifts slightly. The room falls silent again.

He sighs, rubbing his face as he retracts his words. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, it is,” you mutter. “You’re just trying not to say it directly. Just admit it Yunho. I fucked it all up. Your business deal, your family image–”

“Fuck the image!” he barks as he steps towards you abruptly. “If anything, I want to know exactly why you hid this from me.” His eyes widening as he grasps your wrist.

“Clearly you’ve debated telling me even before I asked about your past, meanwhile I told you my own fucked up story with complete truth” he breathes heavily.

“When you told me you ‘danced’ —jesus christ— I thought it meant at parties or events!” Yunho states in disbelief.

“Well that’s not exactly a lie, Yunho.” you spit back, tears forming in your eyes. 

“I did dance. I just did it in heavy ass stripper heels and not pointe shoes.” you snapped, standing straight as you walked closer to his face. It’s dangerous how much he’s letting you run your mouth at him. 

“Why? Does that turn you off?” you challenged. “Do I make you disgusted? As if you’ve I’m used goods?” you plaster on a fake smirk as painful tears release from your eyes.

The vein on the side of Yunho’s neck bulges as he clenches his jaw, hands coming to rest on his hips as warns you in a tone you’ve never heard him use before. 

“Stop that. You can be a real piece of work when you’re angry, you know that?” he snaps, voice sharp enough to cut through the glass window of the city skyline. Slivers of gold and orange dance around the nightly blue as dawn begins to break, signaling the day has only just begun.

Yunho’s chest rises as he stares at you, confliction flashing across his face before frustration wins again.

“You think this is about me being disgusted?” Yunho breaks bitterly, dragging a hand through his hair. “You really think that’s the part I care about?”

“Well what else could it fucking be?” you fire back immediately.

“It’s the fact that you never trusted me enough to tell me the truth!”

The room falls silent with thick tension. You even have to look away for a moment, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. 

When you begin to understand how Yunho feels, a wave of indignation washes it back.

“Do you think it was easy for me?” You grit as you turn your head back. “The times I felt like I had to be someone else just to be in the room with you?” you raised your voice, fresh hot tears streaming down your face. 

The CEO blinks softly, guilt filling his chest. 

You shake your head, walking away from the conversation and towards the bedroom to retrieve your things. You’ve had enough of Beverly Hills and stupid high society.

But Yunho still follows, hot on your trail. 

“No. I never wanted you to change. I wanted you. And if I ever made you feel that way…” he begins, clenching his fists as he owns up to his mistake.

“I’m sorry.” he apologized, wanting you to look at him. But you couldn’t handle his apology, nor the painful fact that it came so easily for him. That unlike any other partners you’ve previously had, Yunho was the first to chase you after hearing you were a stripper, providing the bare minimum and more. 

With embarrassment, anger, and your dignity on the line, you rush to grab your items, looking for the worn out bag you arrived here with and ignoring the boxes of luxury clothes and shoes Yunho gifted you this weekend.

“Listen to me” he states, frantically calling for your name to set the record straight, 

“I’m not angry because you’re a stripper. I’m disappointed because you lied.” he emphasizes, using a tone of voice that makes you want to barf from how grown-up it is. 

Perhaps it was also because secretly, deep down in your heart, you know that what Yunho is saying is far more productive than the childish show you’re putting on right now, hiding and running away with embarrassment of getting caught. 

“You looked me in the eye and told me you were a dancer.” he states, pointing a finger at you as he lays down the facts. “You built a version of yourself just to keep me from seeing the real you.”

“Well, of fucking course!” you snap, voice cracking despite yourself. “Because this is what always happens! News flash, Yunho, this is LA. People lie here all the time. They sell whatever version of themselves they need just to claw their way higher up the chain.”

Your gaze hardens as you step closer to tell him.

“And I’ve seen you do the exact same thing.”

Yunho stiffens, towering over you as he watches you suddenly shove off the suffocating robe to change into your panties and underwear laying on the ground beside him. Not caring if you have to change in front of him mid-argument. 

If anything, the arguments just come hurdling back even stronger this time. 

“Well what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He presses, voice rising.

“Oh come on, Yunho. You think the corporate men of America are any different than what I did? That dancing naked is any different than the bullshit you put on everyday while pretending you’re doing something noble and important? You screw people over for their money! You’re a capitalist dickface that attacks smaller businesses!” 

“If you even understood a fraction of the things I’m responsible for — the companies that depend on my management of their shares, the people that work for me—“

“ —And I would know because I was one of them.”

A look of hurt flashes across his face. 

“You meant more than that.” He responds quietly.

You bite down on your lip, scoffing. 

“If I meant more than that then why are you angry at yourself then? Why are you holding back on the blame you want to put on me for ruining your deal and for scandalizing your entrepreneur image?” You’ve reached a tipping point. A point where you find yourself spiraling with anger and resentment at both Yunho and yourself. 

“Just admit it, Yunho. I’m disgraceful. I’m the one who’s embarrassing. A liar for trying to survive in a world that was always meant for people like you.” 

His voice is strict, calling for your name to slow down and listen to his words but you don’t.

Your bra strap snaps against your skin as you adjust it aggressively, looking around before snatching a random slip-on dress from the pile of clothing to wear as you collect your bag and leave the room in a hurry.

Shouts of your name echo again.

Yunho rushes behind, taking far fewer strides than yourself to keep up with the pace. 

“I get that you think there's a difference between someone like me and you. That there are different titles we are associated with in society.” he says as you roll your eyes.

“But that’s not what I saw during the time we spent together. I always tried to treat you equally.” he points out. 

“I told you things. Things I’ve never told anyone else. You made me feel like I could trust you. But then I find out you’ve been keeping this part of you locked up like it’s something ugly. Like you’re something ugly—“

“Because I am, Yunho! What is the point? That I took my clothes off for money before I ever let you touch me? That I didn’t fit the fantasy?” 

He runs his hands through his hair, trying to reason with you through gritted teeth. “I’m telling you I don’t fucking care about a fantasy! I care about you. Your safety, and the fact that you looked me in the eye and didn’t trust me with the truth. That I’m just one more guy you had to perform for.”

You exhale with a shaky breath. How could you tell him right here that that was the problem. He’s turned into someone with far more value than the guys of your past. It was too much to imagine how he’d react to that piece of news in this situation as well.

Shaking your head as you walk away overwhelmed from the conversation, a hand suddenly reaches out and grabs you with a solid grip. Yunho pulls you to look at his face properly, practically seething as frustration wears his serious expression down. 

“When someone older speaks to you, you listen, do you understand?” he mutters quietly, holding firm but not hurting you. 

You look up stunned. Your throat tightens, tears threatening to spill as you immediately throw his hands off of you.

“You don’t get to act as betrayed as you are right now. You have no idea what people become the second they hear what I was.”

Yunho’s expression hardens, but not in anger this time.

“And you decided I’d become one of them before even giving me the chance not to.”

You can see the conflict in his face now—the exhaustion, the pressure, the disbelief at everything unraveling all at once. But instead of comforting you, the hesitation only confirms your fears.

Your chest tightens painfully. Sighing as the hot, molten anger melts to reveal the cold truth you always come back to after surviving in this world and by forgetting your fairytale books.

“You paid for four days, Yunho.” you force a sore voice out. 

“That was all this was ever supposed to be.”

His eyes slightly widen in alarm when you throw the towel into the ring. 

“Don’t say it like that. Don't do what I think–”

“But that's exactly it, Yunho. I’m not gonna do anything.” you say, straightening the strap of your bag on your shoulder as you turn. You reach for the door handle despite his calls of your name. 

“We’re not done with this conversation!” he swears, eyes glistening as he holds back tears in panic. But you ignore it all.

“You know the worst part?” you begin, voice breaking as you finally tell him through quiet sobs. 

“I really did want to tell you. A hundred times, I really did. And I’m sorry Yunho, but every time I looked at you… I panicked.” 

“Why?” Yunho immediately asks as he walks further, tears falling as the stupid facades you’ve both put up with now crumble. “Fear of money? Of being disposed of?” He answers, guilt shooting through his heart at the flawed way he’d been living. The companies he's broken down. The people he’s cornered for their titles and shares. 

Money meant nothing to him anymore. Not if you were threatening to leave.

But it wasn’t any of those things.

“It’s because you started to make me think I wasn’t disposable.” you responded back, staring at the man in front of you. Your expression softens. 

“I don’t know how to be someone who gets chosen, Yunho, because being chosen doesn’t last forever. You could spend the rest of this month with me and still find that you grow tired of me, and things would fall apart just as easily as this contract was formed.” you predicted through bitter tears.

Then why don't you let me choose you forever? Yunho asks himself. 

In reality, he should’ve said it out loud to you, but he too was clouded with fear. Fear of moving too fast. Of being too sudden and scaring you with a hasty decision that didn't read the room or considered you.

Your body moves first, inching closer to the door.

He calls your name firmly, trying to stop you. For a second, you almost do. But looking back to see Yunho standing with his hands by his side — revealing momentary hesitation, as if contemplating what move he should make next — that tiny moment of hesitation makes your heart sink completely. 

So you walk past him, rushing a goodbye and leaving the penthouse in silence as Yunho remains the only one standing.

Alone. Back to how it was before you entered his life.

LA was one of the stranger places to call home. 

It wasn’t always welcoming, but it wasn’t completely foreign either. Years of survival had changed the bright-eyed, determined young woman you were when you first arrived, to slowly adapt to the fast-paced life that brought more disappointments than fairytale stories. 

Perhaps that’s why you felt the need to cut your story so short. For a city filled with people chasing dreams so desperately, it was important to know when things have gotten out of hand. 

Back in your run down flat shared with your roommate Miko, you realize how long four days can feel when you've been away.

Her cheerful greeting dies down when she sees blotchy eyes and your front lip quivering as you barely make it through the front entrance, holding only your run down bag in hand, pockets empty of any type of money or compensation.

You left the gifts back at the penthouse. You couldn’t bring yourself to take anything that would remind you of what happened.

“Oh, honey…” your roommate hesitates, carefully coming to catch you as you collapse onto your knees when the door closes. The stream of tears follows quickly.

“I left him...” you mumbled softly in choked cries.

Your best friend reassures your heartbreaking sobs by patting your back in slow beats, shushing you despite your eyes continuing to water and seep into the old t-shirt she woke up in. 

“It’s okay, honey” she softly mutters, not having to ask too many questions to know why you were in such a state. She takes a quick inhale and sighs, trying her best to convince you. 

“Everything will be okay.”

But you couldn’t find the courage to imagine it would be. How could it? When you feel as though you’ve made a sacrifice for Yunho — to better his life and free him of your messy past — that puts your own affection and liking for him on the line. 

“But you don't get it, I left him, Miko” you hiccuped, eyes puffy as you pulled back to emphasize the word to her face. “I was the one that couldn’t stay after seeing him react to my past. If only you saw the look on his face, fuck- h-how shocked he looked and how tired I felt of feeling like I was in the wrong to have stepped into his life and–”

“Hey, shhhh. It’s okay.” Miko tries her best to calm you down, carefully helping you up from the floor and guiding you toward the couch with peeling leather cushions. She wraps a blanket around you, the one you both stole from a laundromat months ago because neither of you could afford heating.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” she asks with a pointed look.

You shake your head immediately, watching as she doesn’t change her expression. Then you nod, breaking slowly once again.

“He looked at me like…” Your throat tightens.

“Like he wanted me to stay.”

“Then why didn’t you?” your roommate asks utterly bewildered, brows pulling together slightly.  “I thought everything was going amazing?”

“His lawyer told him about me being a stripper. He beat me to it. And once the conversation started, I realized how much of his life could change because of the picture I painted for him. Of someone who definitely didn’t belong in his world,” you recalled painfully. 

Miko pulls back. 

“But did you stop to think how much your life changed after meeting him? The positive things that came out from the both of you being in this relationship?” 

"There was no relationship. It was just business." you say sounding like you were trying to convince yourself more.

You raise your head to look at her crossed arms. Your roommate's image defensive as she sighs with a shake to her head.

“Listen carefully babe. What I’m trying to say is that careers are able to be rebuilt. Money ultimately comes and goes. But that connection? The one you told me over the phone that you shared with him? The way you said he looks at you? Now that doesn’t just come from nowhere.” 

She helps you recognize that regardless of what happened towards the end, the past four days with Yunho had to have meant more than just business to the both of you. Especially with the way Kumiko thinks Yunho was trying to hold on to you based on your retelling.

“He still hesitated.” You dismissed her. “It was only for a second, but I-I knew what that look could mean–” 

Your roommate sighs in response, rubbing her temples at your somewhat hasty and stupid actions.

Your cries of frustration come out miserable. “Okay whatever! I know how it sounds like because normal people hesitate all the time, right? But with him, Miko…” You wipe harshly at your face, reminding yourself that Yunho hardly ever hesitates.

"He probably felt the exact way I predicted he would feel towards me. Regret. I just couldn’t stand it staying there and waiting for his say on anything else. If I was actually 100% worth choosing or not.”

Miko’s judgement softens as she raises her brows.

“Well damn.”

A breath escapes you, leaning back against the seat as you shut your eyes in fatigue. 

Miko eventually reaches over to tuck your hair behind your ear, the same way she used to after exhausting late-night shifts when the two of you would stumble home with aching feet. Her voice is smooth. “For someone terrifying enough to make grown men cry, he sure made you cry a lot too.”

“It feels exhausting...” you responded, biting the inside of your mouth.

“But…” She emphasizes, glancing toward the apartment window that reveals early morning sunlight to peeking through.

“Isn’t that what love is?” she tells you, making you open your eyes to look at her properly.

“You loved him. I can tell because it's written all over your face and explained through the way you acted.”

The ache in your chest sharpens instantly.

Loved. Past tense.

You don’t want to correct her. You find it would be easier to just shut out the part of yourself that repeats perhaps you still do love Yunho.

The rest of the morning is taken to lay around at home, swallowing down all your emotions and thoughts of regret by rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, hoping to find some sort of leftover alcohol to help. Kumiko warns you about daytime drinking, but she decides to leave you in peace as she heads off to her day job.

“Listen, I know you’re wallowing in your pain right now, and I completely support it, but I left Hime with the skinny convenience store kid for him to watch when I was gone.” she confesses, putting in her left earring as she shows up in her waitress outfit. 

You stop rummaging through the pantry and look up in her direction at the mention of the scrawny black cat. 

“Will you do me one favour and pick her up? The kid's probably done with his night shift about now.” she comments hesitantly, looking at her watch.

Through the pile of food items, you barely manage to shove a weak thumbs up in her direction, saying nothing more as you can’t find the energy to do so.

All you can do is sigh, standing up properly to grab a t-shirt from your room to change into. Kumiko rushes over and hugs you from behind as you walk, trying to cheer you up in her usual, clingy fashion.

“Thank you, I literally love you and promise to bring leftovers for you on the way back.” she says, knowing that it was a usual routine of yours that always made you feel a bit better. Yet still, her expression falters when she sees you're unable to give a full smile.

“Give it time, honey” she pats your back, wishing you rest.

"Give him some time too."

She hands over the keys and wipes a few stray tears from your puffy eyes when you mumble back unconvinced.

“I highly doubt it.”

The fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you wander through half-empty aisles in the dingy convenience store on Hollywood Boulevard, exhaustion still sitting heavy in your chest from the breakup hours earlier. 

It’s unusual to find yourself here so early. Usually you’re visiting during midnight hours, when you’ve finished your night shifts.

Just outside, the city of LA has barely awakened. Police sirens echo somewhere in the distance while the sky hangs in that pretty orange-blue color with a smell of burnt coffee and cheap cigarettes lingering in the air.

It’s funny, you think as you grab the cheapest can of beer out of the back fridges. Out of all the places you could’ve gone to after leaving Yunho, you ended up here— back where you first met him.

Your fingers curl around the metal can, the lukewarm aluminum far from cold enough for your liking as it brushes against your skin. Exhaustion drags through your limbs while you sluggishly make your way to the checkout counter, placing the single drink onto the table with a quiet clink.

“It’s not even noon, y'know," Timothy comments dryly, the teen boy yawning as he still helps you checkout. After pressing a few buttons on the cashier, he peers outside the window, looking out for the next employee to swap with him.

“Surprised you didn’t grab the half-priced milk this morning,” he comments, absentmindedly brushing through the dark fur of Hime as she sits atop the glass checkout counter, peacefully enjoying her final few minutes with him before his shift ends.

"Your cat practically hangs near the milk section every time she's here."

You shut your eyes, cursing quietly under your breath as a frustrated groan leaves you. With your chest still heavy from everything that happened this weekend, you realize you haven’t been paying attention to anything around you at all. Not even to the fact that you have to feed your cat, and not even when the bell hanging on the doors chimes, signaling another person has come in. 

“One second,” you mumble with your back to the part-timer, walking towards the half-priced refrigerated goods section to grab the carton you always purchased.

The fridge doors hum softly as you pull one open, leaning down as lukewarm air brushes against your flushed face instead of the cool chill you were waiting for.

“Seriously, you guys need to fix the thermostat in here or someth—”

The words die instantly in your throat the moment you straighten back up.

Because the moment you lift your gaze, a head of messy jet-black hair and a Burberry coat come into view near the register.

Your breath catches instantly.

Yunho’s hair is disheveled, strands falling messily over his forehead like he’d been dragging frustrated hands through it all morning. Dark circles bruising the skin beneath his eyes as exhaustion is written plainly across his face while his coat hangs off him carelessly.

The state of his eyes catch your attention the most. Red-rimmed and restless. Desperate in a way that makes your stomach turn.

You doubt you look much better yourself.

For a long moment, neither of you speak. The buzzing sounds of the fridge and freezer sections feel so deafening. But if anything, this hurts more than yelling ever could. To stand here in complete silence with someone who once knew almost nothing about you and now knows too much.

When your name leaves his mouth, you swallow hard, instinctively taking a step back until the refrigerator door presses cold against your spine.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in disbelief, though the question sounds far more accusatory than angry.

Yunho exhales heavily through his nose. “I caught your roommate before she left your apartment.” he responded, eyes never leaving yours for even a second. 

“She said I'd be able to find you here.”

You shut your eyes briefly, silently cursing your friend for being too honest for her own good.

Before he can answer, you hurry toward the checkout counter, desperately needing something else to focus on besides the look in his eyes. Your fingers fumble for a crumpled ten dollar bill before abruptly dropping the carton of milk onto the counter hard enough to make poor Hime jump at the vibration beneath her paws.

“Keep the change,” you mutter quickly, shoving the bill into Timothy’s hand before reaching over to gather Hime against your chest and collecting your purchases.

The feline lets out a small confused meow, Yunho stepping closer.

“Please, let me say something” he calls your name softly, shortening the distance and immediately making you set the drinks back down with a sharp clink. 

The cat watches in silence as she’s put down back onto the counter as well. 

“What is there even more to say, Yunho?” you retort back. “I’ve said everything I needed to and left your life so you could fix this mess I made and forget this even happened.” you break, reaching a tipping point when you remember the sacrifice you made to move on.

But for him to come back so quickly, to go out of his way to find you back here in this area of town makes it so much harder. 

“But I haven’t told you everything I wanted to say,” he argues firmly, brows furrowing as he walks closer. 

“I fired Patrick and canceled the Marinex deal,” he reveals.

When you ask him in utter disbelief why he did such a thing, his response only comes back even stronger with disposition.

“Because last night I held you in my arms while you told me you’d stay, and then this morning you disappeared like I imagined the entire thing up,” he recalls, his voice breaking at the edges now, disbelief bleeding into more raw, unguarded emotions.

“I realized I needed to get rid of the people that were in my way. The things that were preventing me from what I really wanted," he explained.

"Which is you.”

Your throat physically burns. “Well,” You bite back, clenching your fists. “Don’t you know people say things they don’t mean when they’re drunk and fucked until unconsciousness?”

The young cashier standing only a few feet away, blinks between the two of you awkwardly. Yunho doesn’t even spare him a glance, nor does he react to your attempt at deflection. Your sharpness and effort to maintain a distance is just absorbed quietly with unflinching patience.

“You're not allowed to erase us like that,” Yunho demands, steady despite everything he wants to say. “Because I remember exactly how you looked at me when you said it.”

Very slowly, Timothy sinks back behind the counter, giving you some space.

Your jaw tightens instantly, sighing loudly.

“Yunho, you can’t just—”

“No.” he repeats, firmer this time. “I’m not doing that again. I’m not leaving just because you’re scared. I spent the last few hours thinking about everything you said to me. Reanalyzing the past four days we spent together in this fucked up proposal I offered you where I exchanged your comfort and presence for money. And I realized what you said about LA was true. People sell pieces of themselves every single day just to survive. They lie. They cheat. They pretend to be things they’re not. I probably do it best. But you? All you did was survive without becoming cruel. You did what you had to do when nobody else was there to save you. And even after everything, I can't believe you can't even realize that you’re still kind. Still smart. Still brave in a way I don’t think you even understand.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a strained breath that sounds like pure awe laced with disbelief. "You do realize you threw yourself in front of an armed gunman for two other people, right?” he asks incredulously as he refers back to the first night you met.

Your mouth goes dry. Stunned silence makes you unable to retort back with any response this time. 

“So I’m telling you this for the last time because you deserve to know.” he says firmly.

“I don’t care that you used to strip. I don’t care who touched you before me or what job you have or what anybody else thinks they can call you. I don’t care who you had to become to survive before me. I care about who you are when nobody asks anything from you. The person you are now. I care that somewhere along the way, it somehow got into your pretty little head that surviving something difficult could make you any harder to love.”

Tears finally spill down your face. No one has ever looked at the ugliest parts of your life and treated them like wounds instead of evidence.

Yunho notices your expression crumble and immediately wraps his arms around you.

You never knew how meeting this man would’ve changed you. In front of him, you wanted to be the absolute best version of yourself. To please him in return for the gentle love he offered to you so easily and humbly. But now you understand it was because there was no extent to his affection for you. For someone you couldn’t imagine a future together if he found your secret past, he’s proved wrong by coming back for you. To tell you properly face to face that he still wanted you. 

As he daringly encases your body within his arms, Yunho embraces you in a firm yet gentle manner.

“How could I not be scared when I didn’t know how to believe you?” you admitted, muffled against his strong chest as hand cradles the back of your head. His heart breaks at how easily you turn your pain inward and how quickly you become your own sharpest critic.

“Will you believe me if I tell you that I love you?”

It leaves him so simply this time. No hesitation present. It’s not needed when it’s his pure, unfiltered truth.

You pull back shakily, looking up at him.

“Y-You can’t just love someone after four days!” you shake your head, though your heart races from reciprocation.

Yunho scoffs faintly, looking down at you as you stumble over your words.

“We had a contract, a deal that—” 

“I love you not despite your past and not because I pity you, but because I just do.”

For many years, he’d drowned life under business calls, endless contracts, and nights spent in boardrooms instead of surrounded by warmth. The idea of love was so distant in the CEO’s mind. But with you, it was as though a whole new life was restarted. 

His eyes glisten as rays of morning sunshine poke through the dirty glass windows.

A soft exhale escapes you through your tears, the words finally cutting through all your resistance that he’s chosen you. That he’s already chosen you long before you were brave enough to accept it.

Yunho brings his lips down to share a slow, grounding kiss. Not like he’s giving you the chance to pull away, because the second your hands grab the front of his jacket closer, you melt completely.

The mild can of beer and weird-tasting milk slips forgotten on the checkout table behind you as hands rest steady around your waist, pulling you against him like he’s terrified to lose you again. Hime meows softly, licking her fur as if entirely unimpressed by the emotional collapse happening nearby.

Outside, sirens still scream somewhere far down the street.

Inside the tiny convenience store, under flickering fluorescent lights, a horrified expression clouds Timothy’s face behind the aisle of potato chip bags.

It doesn’t matter. Because when the two of you finally pull back, tears still caught in your lashes, you say something quieter and far more important than any billion-dollar deal signed by a man like him.

Yunho always had money. He just never had someone who could give him something even more valuable. 

“I love you too.”

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄:

“Have you got everything?”

You nod, nervously sucking in a deep breath as you gripped the straps of your tote bag. The newly purchased textbooks felt heavy in your grasp, their covers glistening with newness. But that didn’t intimidate you as much as you thought it would. 

It served as a firm reminder of why you were here and why you wanted to do this. 

“Notebooks, pens, pencils?” Yunho lists, brows furrowing as the billionaire himself gets nervous for your first day of university. “Did my chef make you your lunch like you wanted her to?”

You nod, feeling so loved and well prepared thanks to your fiance’s care. “Mhm.”

He nods, letting out a deep sigh as he pulls you in and presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, reminding himself that you were. 

“Don’t be too nervous making friends, everyone is going to love you. If anyone says anything to hurt you, you have my legal teams number plus a list of all the top lawyers within the county-”

“Yunho,” you gently called out. 

The corners of your mouth lift as you reassured him by interlacing his fingers within yours. 

“I’ll be fine.” you smiled, nervous but still nonetheless excited to go back to university and finish your studies like you always wanted to. The new support system around you brought the courage to pursue a higher degree than just a highschool diploma. 

Yunho watches his fiance standing in front of him, an excited smile on her cheeks as bright eyes look up at him. He has half the heart to just ditch the office and spend the whole day with you on campus, not wanting to spend a single second apart. But seeing as other students independently walk pass on their way to class, he simply caresses your face.

“I’ll be waiting for you when you finish, alright?” he promises softly. “I want to hear everything about your first day.”

You nod and grin.

“Have a good day at the office.”

“Have a good day at school.” 

And with one last kiss, full of warmth that lingers long after it ends, you finally slip from his arms and take your first steps onto the fresh green campus grounds. It may be nerve-wracking, but it’s not frightening.

Because even as you move forward on your own, you know someone who loves you is still there behind you.

Rooting you on. 

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[seongwars]

strangers by nature | masterlist

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever.

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chapter i ⋆ chapter ii ⋆ chapter iii ⋆ chapter iv ⋆ chapter v ⋆ chapter vi ⋆ chapter vii ⋆ chapter viii ⋆ chapter ix ⋆ chapter x ⋆ chapter xi ⋆ chapter xii

[seongwars]

forget me not | masterlist {complete}

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x witch!Reader AU: non-idol | supernatural Summary: Yunho should be happy--he's got everything going for him and he's set to marry the love of his life! So why is he standing outside of your shop on the night of his engagement party?

teaser ⋆ chapter i ⋆ chapter ii ⋆ chapter iii ⋆ chapter iv⋆ chapter v ⋆ chapter vi ⋆ chapter vii ⋆ chapter viii⋆ chapter ix⋆ epilogue

Oneshots {all oneshots/spinoffs related to the main story}

fate bound | mine, all mine

[fixonreadinglist]

I was so hesitant to read this series because it felt like the summary and spinoffs have no happy ending in sight. Thankfully curiosity got the best of me and binge read this series within the day. I only have the Mine, all mine and Epilogue to read and I can't wait to read it all GAAAAHHHHH🥰🥰🥰 THIS GENRE IS MY TYPE OF SUPERNATURAL FANTASY!!! IT BALANCES COMEDY FLUFF ANGST WITHOUT COMPROMISING THE PLOT AND THE CHARACTERS' PERSONALITY. Every character has their own spotlight and you could always trust that each of their thoughts and struggles are valid as if you are in the middle of their dilemma and included in their universe. You would think I was watching a movie by how much I squealed and smiled while reading this. The author is so good I want to study how she writes. I really do feel like reading a movie script because I could clearly picture the scenes in my head! Also, don't tell Yunho but I'm so happy everytime Wooyoung has a cameo. He's a lovely menace here that I could clearly see him doing it in supernatural realm.