What’s Poppin

21/F

[ourbabies-bts]

Ateez Materlist

Enjoy the mess ;)

A=Angst, S=Smut, F=Fluff

Obv, if it says S, DNI if under 18. thank you

Ateez:

Hongjoong:

Eating you out- S

Seonghwa:

Going down on you: S here's the thing-S

Yunho:

Going down on you: S

Yeosang:

none yet:(

San:

Eating you out: S

Mingi:

Mingi tiddies- pg15

Going down on you: S

Wooyoung:

Wooyoungie's tiddies- pg15

Wooyoung appreciation- (R)ated

Jongho:

none yet:(

OTAteez :)

None yet :(

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Hope your Thanksgiving was great everybody! Be sure to put the turkey back in the freezer for next year so it doesn't spoil!

[facts-i-just-made-up]

That is offensive, we also feature communities of Listeria, Staph and Clostridium perfringens, and celebrate that diversity. We hope you had a happy Thanksgiving and see you for Christmas…

[gloxym]

Thinking about how you're overstimulated on Xavier's cock, tears streaming down your face as you sob over how hard he's fucking you. The lewd sounds of your pussy squelching around his cock coupled with the ragged breaths of his moans in your ear are driving you insane.

He's being so mean about it, too. He's fucking you without a pause in his pace, fast and deep that you feel so full and stretched out while he takes you over the edge.

"X-Xavie, please, pl-please slow down. S'too much!"

You're crying so much, body trembling from the pleasure as you beg and plead with him to slow down a little. You tell him to stop, but he just doesn't seem to listen!

Instead, he's whispering in your ear about using your safe word. That's what it's there for, after all. Don't you remember insisting that he doesn't stop himself until you use it?

"You forgot that you threatened me last time if I stopped before using your safe word? That you could handle it, no matter what you said in the heat of the moment?"

But, you're so cockdrunk and overwhelmed, your voice isn't working very well and you just can't seem to anything out as he drags another orgasm out of you, your walls trying to milk him for all he's got as you scream his name.

"You look so spent. But, I can't stop myself. Mnm, use your safe word, please. Oh fuck, please. Please use it. I can't— mnmm — I can't stop myself. Want to keep fucking you. Want to fill you up more."

He looks wrecked, face flushed with a sheen of sweat coating over his body, pupils nearly consuming the blue of his glossy eyes.

"C'mon, Starlight. Use your safe word, please. Please, please, please, I can't stop my hips. Can't bring myself to pull out of you. If you forgot it, I'll remind you."

Even if he reminds you, whispering the word in your ear with a breathless whine, you can't really think straight enough to even silently mouth the word. He's even telling you that you had a little gesture to signal that he needed to stop, desperately pleading with you to use it if it was too much.

He didn't want to hurt you. He really didn't!

But, you didn't use it. You didn't even try. Instead, the moment he got enough willpower to slow himself down and tried to pull out just to give you a breather, you pulled him back in, legs locked tight around his waist and kept him in you.

Instead, you purred in his ear that he needed to stay right where he was. Even if you were sobbing from the overstimulation, feeling like the world was going to fade away into black, you didn't want him to stop.

"Selfish. You're so selfish, Starlight." He's blabbering into your neck, his cock twitching inside you as he redoubles his efforts to fuck you harder.

"Love it. Love you. Love you so much. Don't wanna be apart from you. Don't want to lose the connection."

And how could he deny you? Even if you're sobbing so much, he won't stop until you're both too spent to even move afterwards. He doesn't care anymore, because he loves you.

"I love you too. I won't try to do it again. I'll stay in you for as long as you want."

And he did. He did until you were both teetered on the edge of consciousness. Because he loved you and he'll do anything for you.

[april-likes-smut]

Wanna be sisters (?) 🍎🍷🌊🌟❄️👑🧁

Last updated: 14 august 2025

Synopsis: Just your regular reincarnation story, or is it? What happens when MC, the one the universe of LaDS revolves around, suddenly becomes obsessed with you? And how will this affect the love interests?

Characters: MC, Y/n, Caleb, Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus and Zayne (polycule heaven).

Warnings: This is a NSFW series so MDNI! There is/will be FxF and MxM action here and there.

✨Individual warnings on every chapter✨

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4 | Ch.5 | Ch.6 | Ch.7 | Ch.8 | Ch.9 | Ch.10 | Ch.11 | Ch.11.5 | Ch.12 | Ch.13 | Ch.14 | Ch.15 | Ch.16 | Ch.17 | Ch.18 | Ch.19 | Ch.20 |

<<< back to LaDS Masterlist

[kitten4sannie]

𝖗𝖔𝖆𝖗

pairing: alpha! mingi x fem! reader

genre: omegaverse au, smut

summary: Mingi has no problem reminding everyone—especially his omega—that you belong to him.

w.c: 3.8k

warnings: mingi’s a bit feral uwu, dom! mingi, sub! reader (she puts on a bratty act for two seconds but that’s it lol), uhhh let’s seeeee,, praise/pet names only <3, dirty talk, possessiveness/ownership, kissing, spit kink, manhandling, size kink, olfactophilia/scenting, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, doggy style + missionary, creampie, knotting, breeding kink, i think that’s it?! owo

a/n: listen i’m a simple woman……… and that roar mv did something irreversible to me 🚬 i’ve never needed song mingi so bad in my goddamn life. FUCK. :$$/!:!.!!/‘/ ugh anywaysss i hope you enjoyyy xx

song rec: roar - song mingi (ofccc) , till the wheels fall off - cxloe

Running an underground gang took every ounce of time and discipline Mingi had. Power meant control, and control meant staying on top. It was something the young alpha had been born to do. His presence dominated every room he stepped into, a force of nature that made even seasoned fighters lower their eyes. You’d always felt safe under that shadow, shielded by his name and his scent.

But lately, safety wasn’t enough. With Mingi buried in meetings and deals, you were left watching from the sidelines, craving a look, a touch, a flicker of the wolfish hunger he usually saved for you. Tonight, at the crowded party his crew had thrown, you’d dressed a little bolder, moved a little closer, brushed his arm, whispered in his ear. You’d do anything to pull his eyes back to you.

But Mingi was lost in the chaos of his friends, laughing too loudly, downing drink after drink, slapping shoulders, and leaning into the rowdy energy of the room. Every time you tried to catch his gaze, he was already distracted, already moving to the next joke, the next challenge, the next toast. Your fingers itched for him, your pulse quickened, and frustration coiled low in your stomach. He was right there—so close you could feel the heat radiating off him—but completely out of reach.

When nothing seemed to work, desperation crept in. The music pounded, bodies moved, and before you realised it you were pressed against someone else on the dance floor, swaying to the bass, heat curling low in your stomach. A stranger’s hands slid over your hips, bold and curious, and when you didn’t pull away he leaned down to murmur something you didn’t care to listen to in your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

Across the room, Mingi’s laughter died mid-sentence. His eyes found you through the shifting lights, amber darkening to something dangerous. He stayed where he was at first, jaw tight, a glass cradled loosely in one hand. But his focus never left you. Every sway of your hips, every flick of the stranger’s fingers on your waist, every tilt of your head that exposed more of your throat—he catalogued it like a hunter sighting prey.

The music roared and you tipped your head back, letting the stranger’s mouth brush your skin. You felt the sting of teeth at your neck, a playful scrape that sent a thrill through you. And still, from the far edge of the crowd, Mingi didn’t move. He just watched, wolf-still, eyes glinting as the neon washed over him. You could almost feel the pull of his attention like claws dragging across your back.

Somewhere in the haze of bass and heat, you knew he was moving. The crowd shifted without you noticing; glances flickered your way and then away again. Mingi was stalking closer, silent, his scent threading through the alcohol and sweat like smoke. The air grew heavier, warmer, your pulse matching the beat of the song and the thud of his steps.

You had wanted his attention. Now you had it.

The crowd parted a little at a time, like a tide pushed back by something heavier. Even the stranger at your back glanced up, scent turning wary, hands sliding off your hips as if he’d been burned. A ripple of unease moved through the dance floor, and then Mingi was there— taller, broader, radiating heat like a furnace.

He didn’t grab you right away. He stepped into your space and let his presence do the work, his bare chest rising and falling, scent rolling off him in waves of alpha musk. It drowned out the alcohol and sweat, coiling around you, making your knees soften and your stomach flip. Every instinct you had as an omega screamed at you to pay attention.

Before you could retreat, he moved again. One single step that backed you against the wall at the edge of the room. His hands slammed to either side of your head, palms flat on the concrete, boxing you in without touching you. The music and chatter faded to a low hum behind him. Up close, he was overwhelming: shoulders blocking the flickering lights, eyes molten, pupils blown.

His scent spiked with irritation and want, a cocktail of cedar and smoke and something animal. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, voice low, rougher than usual. His breath brushed your cheek, and you caught the faint tremor of restraint in his arms.

Your chin tipped up automatically, throat exposed. The omega part of you fluttered, caught between fear and heat. “You didn’t seem to want me before,” you murmured, defiant despite the way your pulse betrayed you.

Mingi’s jaw flexed. He dipped his head until his nose nearly brushed your hairline, inhaling sharply. “I’ve been busy,” he growled, “not blind.” His body caged yours without touching, every inch of him promising that his patience was gone. The scent between you turned thicker, hotter, your own arousal rising in the back of your throat. 

You reached up to caress his cheek, his long, frayed hair brushing the edges of your fingers. “Too busy to show me who I belong to?” 

His mouth crashed down on yours, all teeth and heat, nothing of his usual composure left. The kiss was feral and sloppy, tasting of whiskey and salt and the low growl rising from his chest. His hands finally left the wall, one burying in your hair, the other locking at the small of your back to drag you tight against him. You felt the tremor of his restraint give way; his scent was everywhere now, heavy, claiming, flooding your senses until there was nothing but Mingi.

Around you the room went very quiet. You knew there were still people there; you could hear the music, feel eyes on you. Despite it all, Mingi’s body filled your vision, his shoulders blocking everything else, his heat and size making the world shrink to a cage of alpha and omega. His lips trailed down to your jaw, then your throat, a scrape of teeth against sensitive skin that left your knees weak.

He pressed you harder into the wall, nose at your pulse point, voice a low rumble that only you could hear. “Mine,” he muttered, the word a claim as much as a warning. His hips shifted just enough for you to feel his intent, even through clothes, leaving no question about what would happen if you didn’t stop him.

And then, without breaking eye contact, he moved, guiding you away from the main floor, deeper into the shadowed edge of the room where the lights flickered and the crowd dared not follow. His hand slid down to lace your fingers, firm and sure, scent and heat pulling you after him. The last thing you saw over his shoulder was the wide-eyed look of the man you’d been dancing with retreating into the crowd.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, the throb of the music dulled to a muffled pulse. The room was small, dim, and smelled faintly of leather and smoke, but mostly of him. Mingi’s scent was everywhere now, thick and wild, crawling up your spine like heat.

He didn’t give you time to adjust. His back hit the door with a dull thud as he shoved it closed, then he spun you around and pinned you to it, palms flattening on either side of your head again. His body loomed, chest rising fast, eyes blown wide until the gold of his irises almost disappeared. Every inch of him vibrated with restraint and hunger.

“Mine,” he growled, voice low enough to make your stomach twist. The word rumbled against your throat where his mouth pressed next, tasting you, scenting you, dragging his teeth lightly over the skin until you trembled.

You reached for him, fingers sliding into his shaggy hair, gently tugging at it. He hissed a breath between his teeth and pressed his hips against yours, his heavy erection nudging into your stomach through his low hanging pants. The room tilted under the heat; you could feel your own scent spike, sweet and open, answering his.

“Mingi…” you breathed, barely able to speak. 

“Y/N,” he answered back octaves lower, his voice like gravel. 

Mingi’s hands slid down, rough palms tracing your sides until they gripped your hips. He pulled you off the door and into him, so close that your feet left the ground for a second. His nose found the crook of your neck, inhaling deep, a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan spilling from his chest. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, the words hot against your skin.

Your breath hitched. “Show me,” you whispered back, defiant and needy.

His answering smile was wolfish. One hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to claim your mouth again in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth, wet and messy, as if he meant to devour you. You wouldn’t have cared if he did. The other slid lower, his thick fingers rubbing over your hot cunt through your jeans—gripping, guiding, possessive, leaving no doubt of his intent. The scent between you turned almost dizzying, a heady mix of cedar and heat and something uniquely yours.

He broke the kiss just long enough to drag his forehead against yours, eyes dark and intent. “You’re going to remember who you belong to,” he said, voice ragged.

The rest was a blur of heat and hands and breath: clothes pushed aside, skin bared to air heavy with his scent, his body pressing you down into the bed in the corner of the room, his mouth finding every patch of exposed skin, claiming you in ways that left no question. The world outside dissolved into muffled bass and distant voices; here there was only Mingi, your own answering heat, and the inevitable crash of what you’d been teasing all night.

“I can’t take it anymore, Mingi,” you suddenly gasped into his neck, grabbing at his hips. “I need more. Need you.” 

Mingi tsked. “Baby’s so impatient…” 

With a low growl, Mingi hooked his hands under your thighs and hauled you higher onto the edge of the mattress, dragging you into the space between his knees as if you weighed nothing. The movement was rough but careful, the kind of strength that could crush but chose not to. He spread you open with his rough palms, thumbs stroking slow circles into your skin while his gaze roamed over you, dark and hungry.

“Look at you,” he rasped, voice dripping with arousal, “still acting like you don’t know what an alpha does to an omega who teases him.” His long hair fell forward as he bent down, breath hot against the inside of your thigh. He nipped lightly at your skin, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you twitch. He could see how wet you already were, your flushed cunt glistening even in the low light of the room. 

A soft laugh vibrated against your flesh. “Already soaked, I see,” he muttered, wolfish and amused. “But you can’t help it, can you, baby?” His fingers squeezed roughly into your thighs. “Not when your body is made for me…” 

You arched into the mattress, letting out a breathless sigh just from his words alone. “Just for you, Mingi…” 

Giving you a lazy smirk, Mingi manhandled you a little more, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder until you were tilted exactly how he wanted, pinned by his hands and his scent. Every inhale from him was deep, dragging in your heat like it was the only air he needed. Then he dipped his head lower, mouth and nose pressing into your pulsing cunt, inhaling again with a low, satisfied sound.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, voice a rumble against your skin, lips brushing over your pussy without quite touching, his tongue flicking out once, a deliberate tease. “Should I make you beg?”

“M-Mingi, please…I’ll do anything,” you promised him, your bratty act melting away like it never existed. You’d only used it to draw his attention, and now that you had it, there was nothing you wouldn’t give him. Every instinct, even ounce of yourself, it was his, if it meant that he would claim you for himself. 

“That’s my omega…” The next sound out of him was a growl, and then his mouth finally sealed onto your heat. It was impossibly warm, wet, insistent—his tongue moving against your cunt with slow, deliberate strokes that made your hips jump despite his iron grip. His hands held you still, fingers digging into your thighs to keep you right where he wanted you while his mouth worked you over like he was devouring something he’d hunted down.

You squirmed from the pleasure, thighs instinctively trying to clamp down around him, and he hissed against your skin, low and amused. One swift movement later, he’d hooked you up almost entirely, lifting you so your weight pressed against him in a perfect, impossible arch. Your legs draped over his shoulders and down his back, and the shiver that ran through you made him growl deep in his chest.

His hands abandoned your hips for a moment, sliding instead to cup and tease your tits, rough and claiming, just to draw a gasp from your lips. “Always so eager to fight me—can’t even stay still for your alpha,” he murmured against you, lips brushing along your sensitive skin, “But, I know you too well. You want me to have my way with you.”

A warm blush spread across your cheeks, and you tilted your head slightly. “I’m yours to take, Alpha.”

Mingi chuckled softly, nuzzling his cheek against your inner thigh, voice low and teasing. “That’s a good girl…”

You arched into him instinctively, hands clutching at his hair, nails grazing his shoulders as he continued to ravage you. Every inhale pulled in his sharp, intoxicating scent and you moaned, breath catching, your body melting into the delicious tension of being entirely at his mercy.

Mingi didn’t stay in one place for long. His hands alternated, sliding over your tits, teasing and pinching your sensitive nipples until they were stiff against his calloused fingers, before drifting down your stomach and hips, mapping every curve as if memorizing it. Every touch left a trail of heat in its wake, making your body tremble.

“You feel so perfect,” he murmured, voice low and rough, lips grazing your skin as he nipped lightly, “every inch is mine to claim.”

Then he shifted, dipping lower, warm breath brushing over your thighs as he pushed his wide tongue inside your tight cunt, pushing it in and out until he left you gasping and bucking toward him. Soon, his tongue was replaced with two thick fingers, stretching you open, his tongue now busy flicking and tracing your throbbing clit, his attention to your body precise and demanding. Every little movement made your knees quake, your hands tangling deeper in his hair.

“Always so wet for me, aren’t you?” he growled, lifting his gaze to yours, amber eyes dark and glinting. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you’ve been craving me all night.”

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, voice trembling. “Y-yes, Alpha… I need you…”

Slipping another digit inside, he pounded them into you until the obscenely wet sounds your cunt made were louder than the moans falling from your parted lips, coaxing you to the edge. A low, feral hum vibrated from Mingi’s chest as he leaned closer, using his free hand to rub relentlessly at your clit, alternating between his thumb and forefinger. He watched intently as your body betrayed you in real time, arousal spilling down his forearm, every one of your nerves on fire.

“Let go for me, baby,” he rasped against you, lips brushing over the skin of your thigh, “Show me how much you love your alpha.”

And when your body finally tensed and let go, your arousal spraying over Mingi’s face and tongue, you trembled in his grasp, looking up at him with a desperate need for his claim, for that fierce ownership only he could give when he was inside. 

“That’s it…Good omega, good girl…” Groaning in approval, Mingi drew you impossibly close, pressing himself against you, tasting, marking, claiming, his voice low and ragged as he murmured the same feral, wolfish praise over and over.

Mingi’s warm tongue slipped into your mouth and down your throat before you could even ask him for what you really needed, his body settling heavily over yours, your joined skin slick with sweat, his leaking cock rubbing over your stomach, humping against you like a wolf in rut, every shift of his body radiating hunger.

You broke the sloppy kiss with a trembling gasp, your lips still connected with a few strings of shared saliva. “M-Mingi… knot me,” you whispered, voice shaky but desperate, the words spilling from your lips before your brain could stop them, your eyes wide and shining with need. 

The alpha growl that rolled from his chest vibrated through you like thunder. Mingi’s large hands were suddenly everywhere, strong and unyielding, tugging, lifting, and guiding you with absolute control. Your body was nothing but pliant heat in his grasp, every motion directed by him, every nerve alive with anticipation.

He positioned you effortlessly, shifting you until you were exactly where he wanted, hips tiled up, bent over like an omega meant to be bred, body flush against him, the weight of his cock settled in between the curve of your ass. His scent enveloped you, thick and wild, and you shivered at the raw, possessive energy radiating off him.

“You want this?” he whispered raspily, lips brushing your hairline as he draped his full body weight over you, teeth grazing your shoulder, voice low and feral. “You want me to claim you? Pump you full of pups and make you mine forever?” 

“Yes, Alpha,” you breathed, every word soaked in need. “I’m yours. Take me.”

A wolfish grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Get ready, baby,” he sighed, growling as he stuffed himself inside you, the cold silver chains he always wore dragging over your heated skin with every pointed thrust. His hands roamed over your warm body, gripping, guiding, and holding you in place while his weight and heat enveloped you.

Even through the haze of your own heat, you could feel the tension building between you, the scent of him thick in the air, the power in his movement, the hunger in his strokes. Every instinct in you answered, trembling and quivering, ready to surrender entirely to him.

After another powerful thrust, Mingi shifted slightly, one hand tilting your head back, exposing your neck and jaw. His lips found yours in a fierce, claiming kiss before trailing down to brush over your cheek, tongue flicking over it in a possessive, teasing gesture.

“F-fuck—Mingi!” Your voice cracked, a few tears dripping down your flushed cheeks from the sheer pleasure, your face slick and shiny. Regardless, you pressed back into him, only to be driven forward by the force each time, the need, the utter mess of pleasure swallowing him whole.

Mingi’s body encompassed yours entirely, hands pressed onto the mattress past your trembling shoulders, pounding harder, hips slamming into his omega with abandon. “That’s it, baby—scream for me. That’s my girl.”

Your back arched violently, slick skin slapping against his, knees buckling under the relentless pace. Your hands clawed desperately at the sheets, at the nearby pillows, anywhere to hold on as you rode wave after wave of overstimulation. “Mingi, i-it’s so big, so good, I’ll—”

Mingi’s breaths came faster once he felt your warm squirt envelop his cock, low growls escaping him as he pulled out and flipped you over onto your back. He stroked his aching cock before pushing back inside, each punishing motion punching a sharp, broken gasp from your lips. “Damn it…” he muttered under his breath. “So fucking messy… so fucking mine.”

The alpha’s hands dug into your hips, driving you harder down onto his cock, faster, merciless. “Mine to fuck,” Mingi growled, voice low and dark. “Feel how much I’m taking you—how full I make you?”

“Yes, Alpha!—so much—so good—shit, I’m gonna—oh god—” Your moans tore through the room, anyone nearby able to hear just how thoroughly you were being bred, every movement frantic, feral, your body shaking from the sheer size of Mingi inside you. Your hips pressed down, grinding uncontrollably, drool dripping from your lips as you lost yourself entirely.

Mingi leaned closer, smirking darkly against your lips. “Gonna make you cum all over me again, yeah? On my knot?”

You cried out for your alpha, pathetic and desperate, your nails leaving streaks of red down his wide, muscular back. “Mingi—fuck—yes—oh god—don’t stop!” As soon as you felt the base of his length swelling up, every muscle in your body clenched up, your final release spilling all over Mingi’s knotted cock, hot and overwhelming, leaving you gasping for air you didn’t have.

The alpha didn’t relent. Mingi drove into you with one last, hard thrust before he came with a shuddering roar, deep inside his omega, filling you completely as the room echoed with wet, messy, pleasure-born sounds.

You fell limp underneath him, blinking the stars away, trembling from the feral, overwhelming sensation. Once Mingi pulled out, a few slick strands of cum leaked down your spent cunt. He instinctively pushed back in, carefully moving your limbs so that he could lay down on the bed beside you, his softened cock still keeping you warm, full. 

Mingi’s strong arms wrapped around you, heavy and protective, pulling you close until your chest pressed against his. His breath slowed, brushing warm against your hair and neck, the sharp edge of his feral hunger replaced with something tender, possessive, and comforting. You nuzzled into his shoulder instinctively, scent mingling, feeling the lingering heat of him surrounding you.

The quiet was broken by your soft, shaky apology. “I… I’m sorry for teasing you earlier…”

Mingi’s arms tightened around you. “Don’t be,” he murmured, voice low, rough at the edges but gentle. “It’s my fault for not paying enough attention to my precious omega.” He pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head, then let one hand drift slowly down your back, thumb tracing long, soothing strokes along your spine, grounding you after the storm of heat and instinct.

You rested your face against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, letting your racing pulse settle as his scent wrapped around you like a blanket. 

“Mine,” Mingi whispered, nuzzling your neck, and the word made your heart stutter and calm at the same time.

“Yours,” you murmured back, voice tiny and breathless, curling into him. Mingi chuckled softly, a low, content rumble, and pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head, holding you like he meant to never let go.

© kitten4sannie, 2025.

[kitten4sannie]

@juyeonshour @inkpot-winters @iliveforsmut3000 @kpop-4-ever @raindropsondragons @zinnichong @zzzxiaoting @mrcarrots @mingki1117 @woosanbby @seonghwasslytherin @michaeladmorris @stfulvi1210 @flwrshwa @moonm1st @atinypurr @burnsmepls @warpedspirit @pearltinyy @turtash @princesstiti14 @darkdayelixer @staytinyinmybpack @mrowwww @spooo00oky @sunkissed725 @plutoneu @woosluv @hyukssunflower @l0vetiny @drunk-on-hwa @pl4netx1a @nyang3racha @nxt23racha @riiley @mulletjoonsupremacy @cloudysannie @marvelahsobx @gejise @lorarri @1224hey @miniminkis @sugarnspice630 @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @savluvsmingi @firefox79

[kitten4sannie]

@lunartunx @1ovewoo @starfyire @atinytownclown @sanicitos @ronnie97b @ateezswonderland @remyrachel @joongs-hoe @hwallazia @yoichiislovie @certifiedmoa @hehetmons-flwr @vvsmydiamonds127 @tinyelfperson @jaerisdiction @vantediary @woohwababes @yeosangiess @winnydwinter @isiloiale @seungminsfavoritegirlll @moooonandroses @ourbabies-bts @jixnnsie @dinosaurstitch @mjyungi @alex-tinyy @corneliarstreet @horanghaezone @aaaaajonghooooo @skz-smut-reader @bunnyxoxodarling @nakiiko @yuyubeans @wooyoungqueen @borntoshineateez @bunnliix @lomlhwa @mlhutao @lilgaeguli @coolc4t @interweab

[forwijen]

In your scent, I feel so drowned

[🔞] non-idol jeong yunho x female reader

summary: What started out as innocent habits from you developed into a new kink that you're ashamed of having so you decided to hide it from your boyfriend, Yunho. Unfortunately for you, he is sharper than you think he is.

tags: scent kink, armpit kink, soft dom!yunho, sub!reader, sir kink, daddy kink, excessive use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, honey, etc), praise kink, slight degradation, facefucking, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, yunho has a big dick, reader is a pervert (sorry), cum play, aftercare

wc: 7.2k (1k+ towards the end is just aftercare and pillow talk, you can skip if you want when you see the divider)

(a/n: this is my first ever work, i was So Horny for yunho pits i had to take matters into my own hands. this is purely self-indulgent so if you think the reader is too perverted, well, that's my only explanation for you LOL but to my fellow perverts, welcome! ^-^ english is not my first language but i hope it's enough here to convey my feelings. any critique is appreciated (just pls be nice 🥹), lmk your thoughts after reading!)

》»——♡——«《

It had started out as something innocent. You stealing Yunho’s hoodies, wearing his shirts which look oversized on you, lingering in his hugs, breathing in his scent. Being in Yunho’s arms might just be one of your favorite pastimes.

You love how his figure engulfs yours completely, love listening to his heartbeat, reminding you that there is an organ in there working hard to pump the blood which keeps his body warm, but most importantly, you love drowning in his scent.

Sometimes Yunho would smell like his go-to perfume, a fresh mandarin orange scent with a hint of amber underneath. Sometimes he’d smell like your body wash and lotion which tend to be sweeter than his usual preference but he still insisted on using them because, in his words, “God forbid a man wants to smell like dessert”.

Out of all the scents he’s ever worn though, nothing beats his natural body odor to you. Yunho’s scent after a hard day’s work, after a dance practice, after doing chores.

You can’t pinpoint exactly when this ‘kink’ of yours started developing, you couldn’t even claim it as your new kink at first because you fear he’d find this one too weird, even for him. Though you really can't help it whenever you accidentally slip up, facing his clothed crotch and having to take longer to take his pants off just to press your nose a little against it. You always manage to catch yourself before he takes notice of it.

You thought your journey of fetish discovery ends there, but it seems something decided to change your brainwires even further. Later you started staring at Yunho’s armpits more. you curse him in your head everytime he wears tanktops because he is Not. Helping. At all. with your growing fetish.

You tried your damn hardest not to fall into this one, because, okay, you’ve finally accepted that you have a scent kink, but an armpit fetish? Could you be any more of a pervert?

Although you and Yunho have been dating for quite a long while and experimented with stuff plenty of times, you still feel the need to maintain that ‘sweet and pure girl’ image of yours around him, despite Yunho never having said or done anything to warrant this kind of pressure on you. It's just a personal matter that you need to resolve yourself.

But your asshole of a boyfriend—your menace, your downfall—is not making it any easier for you.

—————————————————————

One night you were on top of him, his hands caressing your sides as you grind against him. That night you had been the one to set the pace while he got to just lay back and watch the show you put on for him. You were doing great until he put one of his hands behind his head. Such a simple movement, yet your walls contracted around his dick as you observed that action, which in turn caused Yunho to let out a delicious groan.

“Fuck… keep going baby, that feels good.”

You of course obeyed him, wanting to make him proud, but at that moment you were also fighting the demon in your head that’s telling you to lean forward and take a whiff at the scent on Yunho’s armpit. If you could, you'd bury yourself in his underarm, lather it with kisses.

You noticed that there are faint hairs on it, he’s not really the type to keep himself hairless but he does shave more than the average men as he likes feeling tidy. It seemed like it’s been awhile since he last shaved. You wondered how those hairs would feel when they graze your face.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that Yunho’s managed to catch on to where your sight is fixated upon. You didn’t even realize that you’ve been clenching more since you started fantasizing about his armpits and that he could feel your contractions against him.

Yunho had a theory, and to help prove it, he put his other hand where the first one was. Now both his hands are behind his head, leaving nothing to imagination. He looked more laidback that way, like he had all the time in the world to watch you make a mess of yourself on him. He bit his lip as he watched you lower your head to look anywhere but his face. Could he be right after all?

“Eyes on me, baby,” his voice is stern and you knew that means there’s no room for negotiations. You raised your head to look him in the eyes. From that point on you swore to never take your eyes off of Yunho, because the other option—his fucking armpits—is still right there in your face and you couldn’t afford to out yourself like that.

You increased the pace in hopes he’d finish sooner, and it seemed you’re succeeding if the way his hips stutter and jaw clench are any indicator. He is a sucker for eye contact after all. You thought you had the upper hand until he opened his mouth again.

“Come here, darling.”

Come here? As in, lean forward to him? Why all of a sudden?

You didn’t get to think for much longer because he decided then to bring you closer himself. Wrapping his arms around your back, the position now requiring you to keep your head sideways, and there, just a few centimeters from your face is the cleft of his underarm.

Being held this tight by him, his musk so potent, combined with the power of his thrusts, you allowed yourself to turn off your brain. Every breath you take, you inhale him as well.

You let Yunho take control of you like always. He combed through your hair gently and kissed you multiple times on your head without letting you go. Had it not been for the activity going on down there and your naked state, you’d mistake his actions as trying to lull you into sleep. But really, maybe you’re not that far off because you are feeling more drowsy by the minute.

You only got brought back to the surface when you felt Yunho pulsing inside you, followed by the warm white liquid dripping out of your hole.

Afterwards he moved to clean you. He giggled seeing your ruined state and showered you with kisses and praises. You never have any complaints when it comes to his aftercare.

—————————————————————

There was never any further discussion about that incident after that. You thought maybe your boyfriend didn’t pick up on your weird behaviour that night and still has no clue about your newfound kink. You intend to keep it that way.

That night you foolishly let your guard down. You chose to blame him for being very coaxing but you knew that if you can’t keep yourself in check you’d end up letting it all out.

You are, however, oblivious to the way Yunho has been acting around you ever since. He'd wear tank tops at home more often. You’d have to avert your eyes whenever he raised his arms, whether it was to stretch or grab something.

Where before you were the one to sneakily steal his clothes, he’s recently started to personally offer you his shirts and hoodies. You never questioned nor complained about it because by the time his clothes are on you, you’d already be covering the lower half of your face in the collar to subtly breathe in his scent, not caring that Yunho’s literally sitting next to you, watching your moves.

Yunho’s big on hugs, that is a fact. The only time he won’t let himself hug you for longer than ten seconds is when he just got back from work or dance practices, because he doesn’t want to attack you with his stench after being out all day. Although, ever since that night he’s begun dismissing that unwritten rule of his.

The effect it brought upon is you being more reluctant to let your boyfriend go from your embrace. You try to play it off as you being extra clingy with him which he’d obviously find endearing, but he knows. Yunho does feel bad—a little—at first because he usually would smell like sweat and the sun, but seeing you so content despite it all warms his heart. And confirms everything he needed to know.

It's yet another Friday when Yunho comes back from the dance studio still in the clothes he wore for practice.

“Hi pretty,” he sweetly greets behind you as he pulls you against him by the waist. He deliberately leaves a wet kiss on your cheek which earns him a light slap to his shoulder. You had been preparing some snacks in the kitchen for when he gets home.

You think nothing of it when he presses his front further to your back and nips at your neck. Yunho had told you once that an intense dance session will always leave him feeling worked up by the end. Something to do with adrenaline or some shit, you didn’t really question it.

Seems like he had that kind of session today. You feel him getting hard behind you and that’s when you decide to twist in his hold to face him. Cocking your head to the side, you cup his face in your hands and lean closer to tease him.

“Needy aren’t you?”, you coo at him.

“Mhm, I need you,” his straightforwardness tickles you.

“Go shower then, I'll prep myself while you do.”

“Why would I shower now?”

Before you can register his question, Yunho sweeps you off your feet. He doesn’t let you speak a word as he devours your lips. Your legs wrap around his middle, your body jostles against his hardened crotch with every step he takes.

You only notice you’re in your bedroom when you feel cool linen on your back. Your boyfriend had laid you down on the mattress softly, yet his lips are still merciless on yours. Tongues pushing against each other, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip.

You realize that somewhere along the way he’s taken off your shirt. His hands roam around your body as if to memorize every inch. Pressing lightly on your neck, squeezing your breasts, slender fingers circling and pinching your nipples. You can’t help but moan into his mouth. Your hands make their way to his waistband before they get stopped by his more sturdy, bigger hands.

Yunho proceeds to move you from the bed and have you kneel on the floor in front of him. Like this, you’re eye level with his bulge. His thick, long, veiny, and sweaty cock that you love so much is hidden under his jogger pants, and… his boxer briefs.

You try with all your might not to imagine the state of his underwear after being marinated in his scent for a whole day because just being this close to his crotch is already enough to get your panties drenched. He hasn’t even touched you there for fuck’s sake.

Two hands grabbed the sides of your face and angled it upwards. Yunho’s looking down at you with a fond yet hungry gaze, his right thumb strokes your cheek gently. He's not shy about the fact that he gets off on having power over you, having you surrender yourself to him. In exchange for your trust, he offers you utter devotion.

And in this moment, he wants you to trust him with your new ‘secret’.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he said in a hushed tone.

Your eyes never leave his, still searching through his gaze for any sign of judgement. You know you’ll have a hard time finding it, even if you search for a hundred years, but you still feel the need to hold yourself back. You take too long to answer for his liking so he decides to just answer for you. Yunho pushes your head closer to his bulge, your nose now just a few millimeters from it.

The action, though done in a slow manner, catches you off guard that your entire body shivers and you let out a shaky breath when you realize you can see the stitching of his pants. In this position you had to crane your neck at an uncomfortable angle in order to keep eye contact with him.

“Tell me.” He repeats himself. his grip tightening on your head.

“Can I taste you, sir?”

At that he tilts his head, pulling yours away and that helps you finally realize your mistake.

“Please?”

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he hums and gestures for you to take his pants off. Before you can get your hands on his waistband however, he stops you once again.

“No hands, honey,” he says still with that deceivingly sweet smile plastered on his face.

Oh.

Oh you’re fucked.

‘No hands’ mean you’ll have to use your mouth to pull his pants down. Using your mouth means your face—your nose—will have to make direct contact with your boyfriend’s crotch.

Did he actually figure it out?

You don’t give yourself the chance to overthink lest he thinks you don’t want to do this and pull away. Bracing yourself with your hands on your thighs, you bite into Yunho’s waistband to take his joggers off, from the center and the sides. He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you get to work down there, endeared by your eagerness.

You waste no time to move on to his briefs once the pants finally pool around his ankles. this close you can see it all—smell it all. fabric dampened with sweat, a result of a full day of hard work, a spot of precum forming where his tip is, the faint scent of your lavender fabric softener. Your heart is pounding hard you hope he doesn’t magically gain a super hearing ability at that moment.

You make quick work on the clothing piece that it doesn’t occur to you that you’ll come face to face with his bare hard on until it almost slaps you across the face. This isn’t anything new to you—going down on him—you’re very well aware of that.

So the fact that you had to literally hold yourself from coming right then and there makes you mentally berate yourself.

Meanwhile Yunho has his hand wrapped around his erection. Jerking it straight in front of your face, taunting you with the way he twists his wrist as he’s nearing the tip, precum dripping down the bridge of your nose. You can only sit there and watch as he does that. Watch as he has you all figured out like he always does.

“Sure you want to just stare at me, Y/N?” His voice teasing. It snaps you from the trance you’re in.

“N-no, sir.”

“Then go ahead, take what you want.”

Go ahead.

He gave you the ‘go ahead’. He meant everything he said.

To honor his permission you place a kiss on his tip which makes his cock twitch. His breath hitches at the tenderness of it all. You begin to move downwards, never lacking in peppering kisses along his shaft, sucking and licking on every bit of skin, until you reach the base. Where lays a tuft of hair. Where it smells the strongest.

Your eyes go hazy. Without taking your mouth off of him, you lean in to press the side of your face on his pubic region, nose making contact with the small amount of hair there. And you let go.

You breathe him in. Yunho’s natural musk filling your nostrils and rewiring something inside your brain. Really there’s nothing particularly special about his scent, if you were asked to describe you’d just say that Yunho smells like Yunho. Which is probably your all time favorite smell. Earthy, warm, slightly tangy due to the sweat, not too sharp, just right, just him.

Perhaps it’s because you’ve spent a long time being around him, you’ve associated his fragrance with serenity, protection, reassurance. It has you closing your eyes, drowning yourself in him.

You’re so lost in the moment you don’t realize it when Yunho lays his hand on your head, pressing you further on his pube. “That what you like, honey? Being down there for me?”

Despite feeling yourself start to float, you feel present enough to hear him so you manage a weak nod at his questions.

“What else do you like? Tell me.”

You regretfully take your mouth off his shaft and tilt your head to look him in the eyes when you decide right then and there to be truthful with him, “Your smell,” you murmur.

Yunho raises an eyebrow, “What was that?”

“I love the way you smell, daddy,” you say with a clearer voice.

He sucks in a breath. His cock jumping at that answer which then causes him to pay attention at the way it spans almost across your whole face. Yunho had an inkling on your newfound kink, hearing you say it straight to his face though—eyes all glossy, face flushed, breath heavy—is a different feeling altogether.

Combined with the change of title. You only call him ‘daddy’ when you’re deep into subspace or when he specifically commands you to. So the fact that you’re sinking this early…

He’s going to have fun exploring this kink with you.

Yunho pulls your head away from his hips and you whimper meekly. Some part of you fears that it’s a rejection, but then he lays his length flat on your face, purposefully squishing your nose with his balls. He sees it in real time, the way your eyes flutter, fists clutching hard at your thighs, as you inhale deeply. He chuckles in awe at the sight. You are going to be the death of him.

“Fuck, when did my girl become so filthy, hm?” Yunho grabs himself to lightly slap you with his dick.

You shut your eyes at that, “A-ah I’m sorry daddy, it’s just… you smell so good, I can’t help it.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he coos, “it just means you like me a lot, right?”

You only hum approvingly as you take one of your boyfriend’s balls in your mouth, suckling it and switching to give attention to the other. Yunho takes that moment as an opportunity to take his shirt off, carelessly throwing it to the bed. When he’s had enough of you servicing his sack, he takes his cock off your face and feeds it to your mouth before you can protest.

Months of practice have led to you being able to take him all the way with less struggles. Sure the ache that comes from the stretch is still there, but it’s a pleasurable one, not the kind that is overwhelming. With your brain shutting off, you’re thankful that Yunho decides the pace for you.

The bedroom is then filled with sounds of you gurgling on his cock and his moans, “So good… ah– just like that… take me all the way, honey. ”

Yunho holds your head down whenever you reach the base to keep you right there, your throat convulsing around his length when you swallow him down. You take those opportunities to bask in him. In that moment you only feel him, the weight of his shaft on your tongue, the taste and smell of skin, precum, and sweat.

Saliva coats Yunho’s entire length, drips down your chin onto the floor, creating a small puddle. When you descend on him you make sure to narrow your mouth, providing that suction that never fails to get him shuddering.

“Such a good fucking cocksleeve for me.”

Your effort is rewarded with him becoming more vocal. Loud groans and countless praises to your name spilling out of him.

The grip on the back of your head tightens to remind you that he’s had his hand there the entire time. It’s also to warn you that his climax is approaching.

“Fuck, Y/N wait–” paying no mind to the pace your boyfriend has set up for you, you proceed to speed up so he can finish down your throat. Yunho, however, pulls you off his dick before you get to achieve that.

After kicking his pants off his ankles, he picks you up from the floor by your underarms to lay you back down on the bed. You squeak when your back hits the surface and he giggles at your reaction. Shortly after he drags you upwards until you reach the headboard and he helps tuck a pillow under your head.

With your boyfriend being between your legs like this, you’re unable to close them, which means he gets to see everything, and that includes the sorry state of your shorts.

His gaze turns darker at the sight of you being so ruined down there—and he’s barely done anything yet.

He yanks both your shorts and panties off at the same time, hunger apparent from the strength he used to do so. The cool air of the room hitting your naked pussy almost makes you clench your legs together.

You have half the mind to cover your face when you notice that Yunho’s still staring at your pussy, staring at the way your entrance flutters, at the way it pushes out more slick to your already soaked inner thighs. Bashful by the amount of lust there is pooling behind that gaze.

You thought he was going to eat you out but then he shifts to lay beside you. He positions himself to lie sideways, holding himself up with his left arm. That’s when you realize. This position, this proximity, it’s all deliberate choices that he made so you’d be facing his armpit.

Yunho decides to tease you by gliding his right hand down from your chest, fingertips brushing against your nipple, to your navel, and finally, reaches that spot on your body that aches the most. With his index and middle finger, he spreads your outer lips apart, exposing your entrance to the cold even more.

He doesn’t do anything else besides massaging that area gently, occasionally grazing the inner lips to tease you. The act earns him a wriggle and whine from you, urging him to just get inside your cunt. Yunho only laughs at your reaction as if you’ve just been denied a sweet treat after a meal and not his fingers.

Truthfully he’s just as impatient as you this time so he pats you on the thigh to instruct you, “Come on, up, sweetheart.” You lift your legs and hold them up by the inner knees.

He wastes no time to insert two fingers inside you at once, your wetness helping them enter with ease. Your body jolts and you gasp at the sensation of finally being filled.

His fingers move in and out with a steady rhythm, creating lewd squelching sounds that accompany the breathy ones coming out of your mouth, creating a harmony.

Yunho can only hum and smirk at the noises, “What got you this wet already, huh? Is this all for me?” He asks teasingly. His palm comes to cup your mound, rubbing your clit in the process.

“Fo– mh! For you for you it’s just for you...”

As an appreciation for your honesty, he adds a third finger inside. When you feel relaxed enough around him he begins to increase the pacing.

Feeling that familiar heat spreading within your lower belly, you clutch at the bedsheet and toss your head to the side, facing the crease of his underarm. Dazed, you move on autopilot to nuzzle in that area, take in his fragrance. The smell just as intense there as his crotch, though you manage to catch a hint of his perfume here—just a whiff of something woody.

Yunho’s eyes widened as a response to your action, almost choking on his breath even. Completely caught off guard by you.

With the strength of every saint in the world combined, Yunho refrains from pulling his fingers out of you to just replace it with his painfully hard, throbbing, seconds away from combusting, member. To pound you until he becomes the only thing you can think of. It doesn’t help that your walls are clenching like crazy around the three digits inside.

“Fuck…” he grunts, “Look at you sniffing me right there, what a dirty girl I have...” He bites back a smug smile.

His fingers are relentless on you. Quick jabs against your walls, fingers curling to hit your most sensitive spot, his thumb messing with your clit.

You can do nothing but lie there and let your sadist of a boyfriend unravel you. Dignity long gone with the way your juice soaks up the entirety of his hand. You eagerly put your mouth around his axilla, leaving gentle nips, kisses, and shy licks in that area. Soft, relieved mewls make their way out of your throat but they stand no chance against the shameless wet sounds that are being produced by your lower lips.

Eventually you feel yourself reaching your climax. So does Yunho apparently, if the way he starts working his digits faster is any indication. Your whole body stiffens. You bite into Yunho’s chest and he hisses at the sting.

“Come on baby, let it all out,” your mouth let go of his now bruised skin to release a strangled moan as you finally cum on his fingers, hips raising off the mattress.

“That’s it, there we go… good girl good girl,” he places soft kisses on your temple. His fingers are still moving inside despite the grip your walls have around them. He only takes them out once he sees you coming down the high and start to squirm against him. Though you should’ve known Yunho won’t let you off easily so he gives a couple taps to your now swollen clit with the same fingers he used on you.

The bedsheet rustles when he moves to kneel between your legs once again. You whine in disappointment at the loss of his warmth around you. Ever the attentive boyfriend that he is, Yunho leans down to kiss you on the lips, smiling into it. With the hand he used to prepare you, he strokes himself, using the slick as lubrication for his member before it dries up. Lathering himself with you. He moans into the kiss at the sensation.

Your hand was about to join his to help him out—admittedly it’s more for your selfish desire to feel him—when he releases your lips to sit up straight. That’s when you blink your tears away to finally take in the sight of him. His dark hair all in a disarray, eyelids drooping as his eyes rake over you entirely, a faint hue of red tinting his skin from up his face to his chest—you mentally remind yourself to tend to the glaring bitemark you left there after this—then finally down to the right hand currently wrapping around his very erect length.

This time Yunho doesn’t intend to tease you and drag it out any longer. He does, however, snicker when he realizes you’re openly staring at his cock now, at how his palm is covering the whole thing.

“Got something you want?” He gives you a small smirk, seizing your legs to rest them on his shoulders, “Think you can take me now?”

“Pleasepleaseplease I can take it, please, daddy,” you beg in whispers, doe eyes pointed at Yunho in hopes it’ll get him to cease with the questioning and get to it. You might come off a little desperate right now, but you’re past the point of caring.

At last, you feel the head of his cock sliding into your opening, and you both exhale at the same time.

“God– fuck…” Yunho looks down to where you and him are connected, eyes never leaving that spot as he slowly pushes more inches inside. The feeling of your tight heat encompassing his cock almost making him roll his eyes back. “You feel so good, baby…”

He lowers himself, bending your legs more, which as a result shifts him even deeper within. A loud drawn-out moan makes its way out of your mouth at the feeling of being full, at the feeling of his member pulsing in your walls, thunderous almost.

At some point you feel the blunt head breaching your womb, soon followed by a quarter of his length. He’s so deep, it feels as if he’s reaching your stomach from the inside.

You hold onto Yunho by circling your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. This way you have full access to his neck, so you take advantage of that chance, burying your face at the side. Immediately your sense of smell is smothered with his scent. You inhale as long as your lungs allow you to, saving his distinct aroma to the deepest part of your brain.

Your nose never leaves that spot, the junction where the head meets the neck, all the while Yunho’s hips never falter in their tempo. Long, powerful, not too fast thrusts creating loud echoes of skin slapping against skin, filling the room. Just like that night when he first discovered your new fetish in silence, he feels it when your insides throb even more the moment you’re smelling him.

Yunho thinks he’ll never get used to this, to the sight of you so blissed out, indulging yourself in his scent. Endless breathy chanting of ‘daddy’ spilling out of your mouth straight into his ears. Poor timing be damned, he’ll pray to the gods above to give him strength in this instance because clearly his girl is on a mission to kill him.

His hands are no longer holding your legs up, they’re now dangling to the sides, kept folded on your own. A calculated roll of his hips has his cock angled so it hits your g-spot, “Ah!”. Your clutch around him tightens.

Yunho purrs, “There?” He hits that spot once more.

Again.

And again.

Until you eventually lose count.

“Good?” he grins, his tone giving away the fact that he’s clearly pleased with himself. A thumb–his–finds itself on your clit, rubbing it. You throw your head back from the sensation. Your eyes shut tight, causing a few beads of tears to roll down your cheeks, and mouth wide open to release a silent moan.

It’s too much. Among the never ending attacks to your bundle of nerves, the stimulation to your clit, the lewd noises that you’re both producing, the gentle touches, kisses, and his smell. Potent, spicy, yet soothing, dousing your entire space in it. It feels as if everything is working your senses to the highest. It’s too much.

“You can take it, honey. You’re my good girl–mmh–after all. Hah… Aren’t you?” Yunho’s husky voice brings you back to reality.

Oh. You didn’t even realize that you’ve voiced out your feelings, being overwhelmed.

“I am I am. I’m your good girl…”

“You areee… My baby has been so good, been so honest with me,” he cradles your head with his right hand and brings you to him, to his throat, and kisses your temple. His lips brush against your earlobe, “You can take all of me as much as you want. I’m giving you permission, so no need to strain that pretty head of yours anymore.”

And you believe him. You’ve always believed him. How could you ever let yourself think that he’d judge you for your desires? How could you ever doubt him?

“Loveyouloveyouloveyou I lo–HAH! Ah… I love you, thank you daddy–Mmmh… thank you…” Your voice is muffled with your face being pressed against the front of his upper traps at the moment.

The constant punches to your womb does nothing but further stoke the fire within you. You kiss him on the jaw and place tiny marks along the column of his throat in praise. “Feels so good… hhngg I’m close…”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Gonna– hmmm… gonna cum all over my cock? You’re already soaking me quite a lot here, sweetie. You–shit– gonna make even more of a mess for me?”

You lean backward to face him, eyes fighting to stay open as you breathe out, “Yesyesyesyesyes please daddy, can I cum?”

Yunho smiles at you. His thrusting starts to pick up speed. “Yeah… yeah, go ahead, baby. Cum for me.”

Earning the ‘go ahead’ from him, you finally cum on his cock with a squeal. You drop your head on his shoulder, body all trembling under his. Liquid sprays out of your hole while Yunho keeps on driving himself into you, hissing when your walls are relentlessly milking his cock. Your slick splashes all around the place. Dripping down your ass to the bedsheet, over his abdomen, matting his pubic hair, drenching his member with your essence.

Yunho takes the chance to pull out of your pussy when your hold on him is weakened. You’re unaware of his movement post-orgasm until you open your eyes and see his figure looming above you. He has his knees planted next to either side of your shoulders, one hand frantically stroking his dick, aiming it to your face.

Catching his intention, you weakly open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Your eyes fixating on the bulging veins on his hand before turning towards his face, meeting his eyes. Yunho’s gaze on you is intense. Veins are popping up on his forehead, jaw clenched tight as he brings himself to completion with his own hand, with you underneath him, looking wrecked, beautiful.

It only takes three more strokes until he eventually bursts, groaning so loud it reverberates throughout the room. His load is all over your face, decorating it with white streaks. Some of it landing on your hair. Your eyes flutter when a few drops drizzle down through your eyelashes.

“Fucking god…” When the last spurt of cum escapes his slit and the air is back in his lungs, Yunho picks you up to prop you against the headboard. His adoring eyes take in the state of you who’s now thoroughly marked by him. With your face cupped in his large hands, he smears his semen into your skin with his thumbs, bringing some down to your lips for you to swallow.

You quiver at how possessive the act feels, your boyfriend covering you in his ejaculation, covering you in his scent. Your thighs clench at the thought. You whimper around his thumb, flicking it with your tongue as he pulls it out of your mouth.

The next thing you know, your lips and Yunho’s clash against one another in a short, tender kiss. A low, pleased hum makes its way out his throat.

He pulls away first, voice gentle as to not startle you when he breaks the silence, “I’ll bring some water and clean you up after, okay? Be right back, sweetie,” he places a final peck on your cheek when you nod at his words before rising off the bed and leaving the room.

—————————————————————

Some time passes and Yunho returns with a cool glass of water and a damp towel. You don’t even realize that you’ve dozed off the minute he stepped out. You straighten yourself back up and let him glide the soft cotton over your skin, starting from your face then the crotch. The feeling of cool towel along with the delicate way he’s wiping you down are lulling you back to sleep.

Almost, if it isn’t for Yunho calling your name, followed by something that you make out to be a request for you to drink. You feel the rim of the glass nudging your bottom lip.

You raise your right hand to take the glass from him, “Don’t need my help?” You shake your head. He mutters an ‘okay’ and lets you drink by yourself. The water is smooth and refreshing as it flows down your gullet. It helps in waking you up fully, you blink the remaining drowsiness away.

While you’re emptying the glass, Yunho takes off to prepare a bath for the both of you. You’ve downed the entire content of the glass and put it on the bedside table by the time he returns to the room. He approaches you and you open your arms wide to gesture ‘carry me!’ which prompts Yunho to laugh, amused by your neediness.

With ease he lifts you up into a bridal carry, one arm under your knees and the other on your back.

“Silly, you know I’d carry you without being told to.”

“Yeah but you were taking too long,” you grumble.

His eyebrows raise at your attitude. The wide grin he’s currently sporting on his face being the only sign that he finds your spoiled behavior entertaining. “Oh? Now you have enough energy to act bratty?”

“Ughh… can’t talk. You’ve worn me out. Also I feel sticky so I wanna wash up. Right. Now.”

“Awww, but I like you sticky. What about you, don’t you like me sti–Ow!” A slap to his shoulder from you manages to shut him up in the end.

After a proper clean up, both to your body and the bedroom, you get to lay down with Yunho on the mattress. You’re lying sideways, head resting on one of his arms, wearing only his shirt—a new one, not the one he was wearing, much to your dismay—and panties. On the other hand Yunho decides to be in merely his sweatpants, foregoing a top, his torso exposed to the chill air of the room. He’s scrolling through his phone with the delivery app opened, deciding on what you two will have for dinner, while he absentmindedly brushes through your hair with his fingers.

The teeth mark on his chest doesn’t look as bad now looking at it, but still you remember the force you put behind your bite then.

“Does it hurt?” You ask him, holding yourself from caressing around that area in case it actually does. Your question makes Yunho stop his scrolling to look at where you’re looking, to know what you’re referring to. The bitemark.

“What, this? Nope! If anything I’m happy with how it looks,” he snickers, “plus, it felt like being bitten by a cat, so don’t worry.” You hum at that, your face scrunching when you just processed what he compared you to.

Before you can respond however, he continues, “I didn’t get to ask. Do you… like what we did today?”

You instantly know what he’s talking about, and your head shifts on his arm. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

“Well… I was basically pushing you around so you had no choice but to follow, but we never really discussed including that kink during our session before.”

You take his concern into consideration. He made a point there, but at the same time you think, if Yunho hadn’t taken the jump for you, the discussion regarding your newfound fetishes will probably not see the light of day. Maybe not forever, but it’ll take a very long time before you’re comfortable enough.

“Yeah… yeah, I liked it. And you– you’re okay with it?”

“Hm?”

Oh, he’s trying to get you to verbalize it.

“Me… liking your smell,” your voice gets lower and lower the more you speak, “and your armpits a little too much…” Your face is heating up. Scorching.

Now it’s his turn to move away from you, phone tossed to the side, only so he can level his eyesight with yours. He’s looking at you like you just asked him if he’d run around the neighborhood park butt naked for a chance to be a stunt double for Spiderman.

“Baby. Do you know how hard it was for me to not immediately bust when you stuck your face into my armpit? I think I’m getting hard just thinking back on it.”

“Well don’t!” You shove him back, putting more distance between you.

The bed vibrates slightly under you two due to his laughter. “No, but really,” he stalls in order to catch his breath, “I told you back then and I mean it still.”

Yunho closes in on you. His hand finding its spot along your face like it has always belonged there. “You can take whatever you want from me, and you can trust me. You can trust that I’ll speak up when I don’t feel comfortable with what you’re doing, just like I trust you to do the same.”

You jut out your bottom lip as you listen to him. You’ll never get used to his sincerity, not only from his words, but his actions proving them also.

“So you love the way I smell, you love getting high over it, maybe you wanna kiss and lick my armpits, so what? I mean– I think I’m gonna struggle a bit with the armpit thing because I’m kinda ticklish–”

“Oh really now?” You smirk, mischief brewing behind your eyes which Yunho notices right away. “No! Don’t you dare!”

You put your raised mid-air hands back down and giggle seeing his face, “What I’m trying to say is, I don’t have a problem with you having a fetish for my scent and my pits, in fact? It’s really hot! Seeing you lose yourself like that… babe, I need you to be more honest with me from now on okay? No more keeping it a secret, got it?”

He knocks his forehead gently against yours, as if to make sure his words really stick to your brain. Cheeks all puffed up and eyebrows scrunched.

You chuckle and nod, jostling his head too in the process. Heart soaring, light, yet full of warmth. How lucky you are to have someone like him in your life.

Although a thought suddenly strikes you out of nowhere, and you decide to voice it out, “Wait, but you wouldn’t have ‘pushed me around’ if you didn’t…” You look him dead in the eyes, fearing the confirmation, “Did you know this entire time?”

The recognizable puppy side glance from him and the delay in response are enough of an answer for you. You groan out, voice muffled with your hands covering your face, “Fuuck… I really made it so obvious, huh?”

It’s not only that you suck at hiding something, it’s also the fact that he’s known all along and you never even realized, making you look like a fool around him.

Amidst the mental crisis you’re having, Yunho chooses to wrap his arms around your back and bring you to his chest, surprising you with the sensation of cool skin. You sniff out your coconut milk scented body wash on it. Even if you were technically using the same one when you took a bath with him, something about your boyfriend makes the body wash smell even better.

“Hey! If anything I’m thankful that you’re obvious so no need to be embarrassed about it–” Yunho looks down only to be met with you, eyelids drooping, small hands clinging onto his bare back, ready to clock out.

The sight makes him subconsciously smile. He adjusts himself carefully so you can sleep better in his arms, so you can be engulfed in his scent.

“Guess dinner will have to wait then.”

[syluswylus]

"𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘮 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴...?"

Cowboy!Sylus… Well more like cowgirl!reader if you catch my lasso…

✧˚ ⋆｡˚ Featuring Sylus Qin x Fem!Reader

✧˚ ⋆｡˚ Synopsis: The stranger at the bar shows you what it's like to tame a horse.

✧˚ ⋆｡˚ Content Warning!18+ The following post will include smut, pleasuredom!sylus, sassy!reader, dick ridin', oral (f recieving), cowgirl, degradation?, penetration, cursing, big dihhh, size difference, spit, saliva, creampie, squirting, alcohol, mention of caleb, use of slut, stranger danger, cowboy hats, oh and face riding. Viewer discretion is advised. 

✧˚ ⋆｡˚ a/n: THIS IS LOWK CHOPPED i just couldn't get cowboy!sylus out me mind argh argh idk why this took me so long so pls enjoy and slut out. as usual feedback of any sort is always welcome! make Raonnni go viral for this sylus art its so hottt (art and concept credit) ps: dont fuck strangers!

The scorching heat makes you comically feel like a vampire, your energy practically depleting the more you’re exposed to the blazing sun. You huff, swiping your forehead trickling with sweat and the feel of cloth starts to stick to your clampy skin. What was this place?! A goddamn oven?! It also really didn’t help that the ice cream Caleb had bought for you was now practically dissipated. What the hell was taking him so long anyway?

Originally, you both had just stopped for some fuel at a gas station. Bored of waiting inside the car, you stepped out and were met with tumbleweed and cacti that decorated the miles and miles of sand. The gas station seems worn down, probably having been there for decades. While the bar beside it smelled like aged wood. It was vintage, and suspiciously more polished than its sister building next door. And If you were quiet enough you definitely wouldn’t miss the tunes that play from the jukebox inside, tempting you to step foot.

You hover a hand over your eyes and squint, til you can vastly see the difference between the two buildings. The only common similarity between them being both in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. 

Hell, anything was better than this god-awful road trip, it only made you feel like a turkey roasting in an oven. You’re sure Caleb won’t mind if you went to find entertainment elsewhere. Turning on your heel, sand drags under your feet as you set off to the countryside bar. You catch a draft of whiskey and watch how the saloon doors swing open and close. 

it feels as if something inside was waiting for you. 

A dollop of cream drips down your bare tits. 

Ice cream.

Right! Gosh! You forgot you still have that goddamn ice cream in your hands! So embarrassing!

“C-Come again?” You wipe between the v of your shirt with a nearby napkin. Your boobs slightly from your cleavage, clearly doing nothing but attracting wandering eyes. Heat rises on your cheeks as you replay the man’s words. You pray to the gods that he can’t see through your flustered front, but he studies you. Afterall, the lively attitude of the bar—along with everything else, doesn’t nearly compare to the attraction your presence brought. 

It wasn’t everyday you found yourself to be in the middle of a flirtatious stand off with some stranger, better yet a cowboy who seemed to see right through you. You were expecting quiet company, a catchy tune, with maybe a drink here or two if you felt like it. But you were quite mistaken when met with a man who flirted with his eyes. You don’t recall ever meeting a cowboy before, but he seems familiar. 

Wasn’t there some old rumor about cowboy’s having big dicks? Maybe you fucked him in some past life or something.

The stranger laughs, his dramatic cowboy hat tipping forward with its own sense of charm. The leather is sophisticated and carries a smoky scent along your nose. It’s rich and smooth, like him. Your eyes can’t help but drop to his hands, seeing the bare fingers. No ring. Nice. 

You try not to stare when his adam apple bobs, downing the whisky until it’s three ice cubes left swimming in the glass. He’ll definitely need it dealing with you. 

“I said,” He sets the empty glass down with a light thud. “—Keep starin’ like that and we’ll end up in that loft faster than jackrabbits n’july." A thick country accent behind his words. 

You’re not as flustered as before, but the suggestive undertone of his voice still makes you shudder. An intense staring contest spark between you, and he doesn’t seem to back down. If anything, he encourages you to play with him, encourages you to challenge his dominance that he seemed to hold over this place. It pisses you off.

“Is that an offer or something?” Giving him an unimpressed look, it seems for once you catch the smug bastard off guard, since the start of this interaction. You feel a sense of pride, not even knowing yourself where you got the balls to challenge the man who wore danger on his face. “Really?” Surprised at your audacity, he cocks his head in interest and almost has to pinch himself from shamelessly biting his lip in front of you, impressed, and insanely turned on. 

You would seriously sleep with him? Despite just meeting him not even five minutes ago? You were pretty ballsy.

And what’d you think he was going to do? Reject you or something?

“s’that what you want it to be?” He reels you in with a tease, wanting to toy with you a while longer. “You want me to offer you a visit upstairs to my loft? Is that right, sweetie?” You start reddening from the possibility of someone listening in, remembering you guys weren’t exactly alone, especially from the way he said it, they’ll definitely get the wrong idea!

“I mean… You did though. Didn’t you..?” You lick at your mostly-melted ice cream keeping your voice low, casually looking at the vintage decorations on the walls as if you couldn't care less if this man smashed you or not. Though you would be utterly disappointed if he didn’t. He watches the sight of the vanilla coating, another glass of whiskey suddenly doesn’t sound half as refreshing as you.

“Well, yer gaze fell so intensely onto me, I’m almost gonna have to disagree with you, kitten.” His lips curve into— what you could only describe as an infuriating smirk. “But sure. If it means saving yer pride, I’ll happily take the blame for initiating this dance, sweetie.” He stands up tall and confident, spurs clanking on his boots with every heavy step. With his back turned to you, you watch the way he strides through the bar. Almost stunned from the sheer size of this man, raging back muscles peeking through his shirt deliciously, giving you a perfect view. 

Your lips part to respond accordingly, to say, ‘heck no!’ But you fall short.

“Comin’?” Dear god not yet. “Or am I gonna have to whip you over my shoulder and carry you myself?” It’s not like he minds. Truly, If you want it princess style, he’ll give it to ya. Debating on what to do, more like ‘trying’ to resist temptation, your feet trail behind him, taking in his expensive cologne that inevitably pulls you in more. 

You chew on the inside of your cheek as you curiously follow him, wondering what exactly he had up his sleeve. It’s until you reach the back, peering at the nook that led upstairs, your heart thumps and you realize you might’ve bit off more than you can chew. 

“Are we even allowed up there?” He laughs once again and you almost think money is raining from the sky. It seems everyone else is just as curious as a few eyes dart your way, watching you two sneak off almost ominously.

“I sure hope so.” He shrugs, whipping your head towards him suspiciously. “Afterall, I do own it.” Your shoulders uncoil and you almost have to smack him from how often he has you on your toes.

You were so cute. 

“You’re the owner?” You blink inquisitively, noting the antique decorations splattered around the bar only like a collector would. Lots and lots of shiny things that caught your eye. 

“You’re observant.” A smirk plays at his lips loosely, almost feeling sarcastic. You take one reluctant look back at the rusty doors of the bar, glancing at the unappealing gas station from across. Surely… Caleb wouldn’t be waiting that long right? Was it a bad idea going upstairs with the owner of the bar? You’ll only be a second, it wouldn’t be that crazy would it? 

“Ditch the sweet treat, sweetie.” He clicks his tongue, referring to the melted mess swimming in your waffle cone. “I’m sure we’ll find something else that’ll satisfy you much more...” Without a second longer, you discard it to the trash, long forgotten. You have a feeling he means what he says. 

Truth be told, you weren’t really sure what you were walking into going up the creaky stairs, Unsure of what you were actually wanting when entering the cozy space, door shutting behind you, music fading downstairs.  

But you felt you were in for a ride. 

“You don’t even know my name.” You quip, mimicking his country accent, arms folded across your chest as you give the cowboy a glare. Who only blinks back down at you. The all too thin t-shirt fails to hide his straining muscles that only tempt your eyes to wander down, trying your best to ignore the way your pussy walls flutter with desire when you see the way his biceps flex. A desire that only he could fulfill. 

“s’that right?” As if he’s in deep thought, his fingers rub the stubble on his chin, thinking oh so hard. 

Unbeknownst to you, He knew your name. 

Little miss Y/n L/n from Linkon City. You think he’d fuck you and not know your name? Please, he’s not you. 

During the long dramatic pause you take a chance to glance at the bed in the very corner, almost inviting you to interrupt the cleanliness of the perfectly-made sheets, drawing you in like moth to a flame.

“Well I’d just hate t’a make you feel unwelcomed, sweet pea.” A hand reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, refocusing your attention with a finger tracing your jaw, ultimately melting away at your last resolve to stay strong. When his fingers catch your chin you feel nothing but safe in his hands, like he’ll take care of you and everything you need. The slanted roof barely leaves enough room for him to stand fully, almost purposely hiding you two from any outside interruption, like you shouldn’t be here. It felt… exhilarating.

What were you thinking? No! You cannot fuck a stranger! That would be highly unmoral. 

He urges you on regardless, smugly crossing his arms together and his shirt lifts almost too perfectly, catching a glimpse of the silver happy trail disappearing into his jeans. It was merely sinful. “Go on then, what’s yer name, darlin’?” Meeting his gaze again, he notices how you slightly hesitate on telling him your real name, wondering if you should keep this secrecy of yours or give into his playful nature. There was probably some unspoken rule about sleeping with strangers only if you knew their name. This counted, right? 

“Y/n.” He playfully knocks on your head. “Good, now we’re no longer strangers, darlin’.” Your lips purse to correct him. You’re pretty sure that’s not how it works but you digress. You had to give it to him. He sure did have a way of chipping away at your interior, it’s like he already knew everything about you. 

“What about your name?” The curiosity lingers in your mind and the air stills with a mischievous squint from him, insinuating you were going to have to work a bit harder for it. He wasn’t going to give it to you that easily, despite already entrapping you into his little game. “What? You gonna be stingy with your name after I gave you mine?”  For a second you mock his accent, defenses rising up, and he doesn’t miss the annoyed tightlipped pout on your face. Only answering with a rich laugh. You’re about this 🤏🏻close to walking out this damn loft. “That’s a pretty dick thing to do-” 

“Relax, hot shot.” His intimidatingly long legs close the space between you, backing you up into a wall as your hand lands on some rustic old book to the side. Before you can register, you get swept off your feet with his hands slipping under your plush thighs, yelping as he supports you effortlessly. And you don’t overlook the way he traps you, intimately pressing you against the wall, almost sharing the same breath. A strong ruby gaze on you. His strong physique was just as delicious under your hands as it was gawking at him. If he didn’t have you before, the raspy whisper in your ear does it for you. “Sylus.” Deep and strong. “And that’s all you’re gonna need t’know…” 

You come face to face with the stranger who’s inches away from devouring you whole, the rim of his hat casting a shadow over his face. He looks at you like he dares you, and you only have one thing to say. “You gonna kiss me? Or what?” Like you’ve been impatiently waiting, aching for him to take the first step beyond the barrier of just strangers. Because lord knows after just a kiss you definitely won’t be strangers anymore. He wants to, more than you know. Almost thinks you two shouldn’t do this, with the rowdyness going on downstairs and all. But Sylus likes a girl who knows what she wants. 

“Yeah?” It’s breathy. “s’that what you want?” 

You take it as an offense at first, thinking it’s another one of his stupid questions that make you put in extra work to decipher, poking his chest frustrated. And it’s sexual. 

“Listen dude, I'm getting real tired of your little games and shi—mmph!" You squeak when you realize his lips are on yours, quickly working away at your attitude all the while stealing your words and your breath.

One second he's marking you up for all to see and the next you’re giving him bite marks that almost draw blood. One second he’s grinding you into the wall, the next you find your clothes off and discarded on the floor, mewling his name like a prayer. You paw at him persistently, sweat under your palms, earning yourself deep grunts. He’s unable to resist from hardening at the way you claw at him, whining into his mouth so sweetly. He may not understand a word you’re saying, but he knows what you want. 

“Sylus-” “—Could stay here all day, sweetheart..” He damn near whines in your ear, cutting off your plea, the urgency to have him rock your shit til you don’t even remember your own name wells up in your tummy. “..Tell my men to kick everyone out…” He nibbles down your neck, attacking each spot with devotion. “—Close everything up while we…. mmm… recreate every dirty little fantasy you’ve ever had, darlin’…” The words are truly filthy. Just as filthy as the hand that snakes to your back, hurrying to unhook your bra that had suddenly grown too tight. He just couldn’t stand the thought of his girl being uncomfortable for one more second, snapping it off with one hand.

“Tell me you want this…” His breath ghosts your skin, a strained rasp in his voice letting you know that he wanted—needed this as much as you did. If not more. 

And you? You want a ride to the wild side. 

The bra peels off delicately, and you don’t stop it from dropping to your feet. “I want you.” His knees nearly buckle.

After taking a few seconds to catch his breath from nearly jizzing his pants, he drops to his knees, briefly meeting the paint-chipped wood below.

His lips trail down lazily, his tongue dipping deeply between the valley of your breasts as you breathe heavily. Hot stripes trace over the curves of your stomach languidly, inching dangerously into the waistband of your panties, the long slick of saliva glistening down your skin addicting to look at, addicting to taste. His little gem. 

The fire in your gaze spurges him on even more as he tastes you. Almost astonishing you at how intimately he explores your body, as if he’s been worshipping you since forever.

He’s decided you’ve been quiet enough.

You gasp, feeling a hot finger on your clit. “s’this where you need me, sweetheart…?” The digit wiggles, torturously prodding at the bud behind the cotton, coaxing a sweet whimper from your lips. Your legs turn into jelly, struggling to respond to his question with a quivering bottom lip, brain lagging a few seconds behind.

“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?” You’re not quick enough.

That asshole. The least he could do is—”ahh! wha- sylus…!” Your legs flail over his shoulders as he bring you up with him, mouth feasting on you vigorously. “Hahhh…! W-Wait what the fuhh-uuckk!” You squabble thinking he’ll set you down. Silly you. It only soaks more of the cotton being lapped up by his tongue, not relenting for even a second. Doing his best to pry everything out of you greedily.

He really was going all in.

“Sy..lus..!” You weakly tremble as he blatantly ignores the fabric separating you two, suckling on the cloth to get a fresh taste of your liquids. Groaning against your entrance, drinking you like a leaking water fountain. “Scream that shit, baby.” He could almost cum from this alone. “You..!”

Nodding into you like a man possessed, he sturdily props you onto his face, insisting to claim every inch of your pussy, not one spot going without his affection. You seriously hope no one could hear the noises spilling out of you, praying the music downstairs was enough to drown out the sound of your shrieking voice in the air, feeling the popcorn ceiling under your hands.

You hear him muffle, unable to clearly make out the words babbling into your cunt. 

“...Sylus!” He falls back onto the bed and for a second you panic, feeling slightly unstable until his hands have you once again. Smacking the center of your cunt right onto his face, bumping his slicked-up nose against your clit, eliciting a grunt from the cowboy below. He pulls the cotton aside and goes to town. 

Goddamn, did this man ever quit?

His rough hands dig into your waist as he urges your movements along his face, dropping your head to watch how he made out with your pussy, the unholy sight making you squirm above. His hand brushes against the cowboy hat that had fallen off his head, placing it on yours to decorate you in fancy leather. His fancy leather. 

Cowboy hats sure did look better on you far more than it ever did him, only making the blood pump towards his cock even more. It hurts so good, watching the hat on your head topple to the side from the slobbering mess he makes, his tongue intruding your puffy walls over and over, gushing onto him. 

“Use me, darlin’.” He spews from below, You start to feel sinfully close from the way he licks you naked, top to bottom. Eyes blown wide at his command, your hips eagerly rut against him, growing drunk on the way the tippity top of his nose kisses at your throbbing clit. Like a bunny in heat, you hump his face rapidly helping you determine, that yeah, this is how you want to get off for the rest of your life.

“S-Sy! I’m gonna…” Your hands tug at his hair, harsher than you intend to, sobbing with your body teetering on the edge of a mindnumbing orgasm. His hands grab at your tits, earning himself a whine as your walls flutter, finishing you with carving an ‘S’ into your folds, making sure you feel every long drag of his tongue. “C-Cummin’...!” Flashes of white flood through your vision, your body crumbling apart with silent screams. Far too gone to be hyperaware of the juices flooding into his mouth that he eagerly slurped at. 

“That was a big one, huh sweetie?” He coos with a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, massaging the plush skin. Like a dog in heat his tongue darts out to lick the remaining essence on your inner thighs, you shudder, unknowingly still crying out for him.  

“I think you oughta try somethin’ bigger now.. yeah..?” He murmurs breathlessly and your tummy tingles, glancing at his raging erection.

“I can see you drooling, darlin’” The fat of your cheeks paint red when caught eyeing the indecent size of his cock, pulsing with obscene veins at every angle. It wasn’t your fault that you were looking! He was man-spread, giving you a delicious lewd view of his junk out, standing tall and impossibly hard. You were just hoping you’d be able to take him. 

You crawl onto his lap, his heart fluttering as he basks in the sight of you so cutely stumbling on him, wiggling your hips once your heated sex hovers his. “I hope you know you’re a lot more tolerable when you aren’t speaking.” You mutter, prodding at your entrance with his tip, long cock twitching between your delicate fingers. It truly amazed him how you managed to be so cute and sexy at the same time. 

“Did you… seriously just get turned on from that?!” He sounds more shocked than you, resisting the temptation to thrust up. “proud of yourself, kitten?” watching you with heavy eyelids, he grounds himself with a grab of your hips. You give him a blank look, surprised such a sentence could get him going. 

He flicks the cowboy hat on your head. “C’mon, peaches— never rode a man before or what?” His fingers dig into your skin, grappling you like he’d have to guide you once again, your eyes blazing down at him. 

He wants you to ride? Oh, you’ll give him a fucking ride.

You crash your lips into his, nearly biting down onto his tongue when you sheathe his entire length inside you. 

“...S-Sweetie-” In a shaky breath, your velvety walls flutter around his sensitive cock making his ass buck up deep into you. He gives a strangled moan, trapped in a sloppy liplock with you. You too, wail into his mouth with the air leaving your lungs, planting your hips down to his base. If you were trying to kill him it was working.

“Gah- sweetie- t-take yer time…!” His hands try to steady your hips, the stretch burning deliciously, sending tears trickling to your eyes as your hair falls over your face, but it doesn’t seem to phase you. Determined to ruin him to shreds. 

With your own cries bubbling in your throat you bite down on his lip, His eyes indistinctively rolling back as you rode him with conviction. “nngh..! sweetie, please…!” His sanity barely being able to keep up with the way you enveloped him. His hot hands find your ass, spreading your cheeks wide, following your lead. He loved the way you felt in his hands, bathed in the way you trusted him with your body, and how he trusted you with his. No longer being shy, you pop off his lips, hands caressing the hard muscles down his chest before lowering yourself back down, nearly feeling him nestled in your stomach. For once having the cowboy mumble incoherent noises of pleasure. 

You almost forget to breathe for air, in a trance at the way he unravels below you. Your own stomach building with an insatiable heat, blabbering on his dick, ignoring the burn between your legs. You were never too crazy about cowboys. But if this was how sex was every time, taming him like he was some horse? You get it. You totally get it now.

“Baby,” he utters so softly, catching you off guard.

It’s written all over your face, the way you’re hanging on just as much as he is. You think you’ve got the upper hand? You’re sadly mistaken. “Do you… have any idea how delicious you look right now?” His cock slams up into you, meeting you mid thrust. “Fuhh-uu-uck!” You fall forward as he harshly thrusts into you. “Sylus!” and again.

“Fuck-” He hisses, abs squeezing to prolong his orgasm as long as he could. “You always this—fuckin’ cute while ridin’ cock?” The words on his tongue make you clench around his girth, face flushing with heat. 

Y’all should’ve opened a window or something because it smells like straight up sex.

His cock drills up into you, long drags that reach places you didn’t know need reaching. His words ringing hot through your ears, turning them red, jaw slacked. Were you drooling? You couldn’t even tell. 

“That good, kitten?” He croons, hands cupping your face, hearts in his eyes as he attentively watches your expressions, fucking you dumb with a cowboy hat sitting on your head.

His thumbs slide into your lips, tasting salty skin on your tongue. “Ohh…” He moans, “She’s a dirty girl. Isn’t she…?” A wicked smirk creeps on his face, strong thumbs pressing onto your tastebuds, swirling his digits around, your eyes roll back.

“feel good, baby?” He repeats once again, his wet thumbs trailing down your jaw, dirtying your skin, red eyes zeroeing in on you. 

He smacks your ass, demanding an answer.

“Ah- it’s good!... S-so big!” You sheepishly shriek, bellowing above him as he pulls you in, catching a nipple between his teeth. “I know, sweetie.” He pants breathlessly, suckling on the other boob, not wanting to neglect either one. The bed creaks in sync with every slap of your guys’ skin. The quietness downstairs makes you feel slightly nervous, anxious that someone could make out the legs of the bed resolving with each sloppy thrust of his. 

“I’m close too...” He murmurs against your skin, letting you know that he was right where you were. Violently trembling with his cock pressing into every gummy sensitive spot, giving you nowhere to run as his arm cage you in against him. “Sylus-sylus-sylus-sylus-sylus..!” Cries erupts from your throat, sobbing pathetically as his name trails off your tongue. Your body arches into him, wanting to crawl into his skin and have him cater to your every want, shocks of white flashing through your vision. 

“Hah…” He cums hard himself, not being able to hold back a second longer as he shoots a piping hot load into you, feeling you gush all around his length, sloppy squirts coating you both. Your vision uneven and blurry, you didn’t think sex could be so wet. He buries himself to the hilt one more time, “My cowgirl…” The last few spurts making way into your womb, before letting his hips fall back to the sheets, excessive amounts of cum uncomfortably dripping down you both already.

“You did so amazing.” He purrs, pulling you in for a messy kiss. 

“'Promise I’ll take ya out for a real ride later, yeah?”

Bonus! 

“I’m sorry, what was that again, darlin’?” He plows another inch in from behind, letting you cry into oblivion, struggling to read the rusty book in your hands.

“J-Jackrabbits can… ah- reach up t’speeds of f-forty- hmphah!” His thrusts get harsher by the second, throwing you off rail. “Forty what, baby?” 

“F-Forty-five! M-miles per— fuck! P-per hour…!”

“Oh my,” He whirs, “That’s mighty fast, ain’t it darlin’?” You mewl, nodding back at him.

He pulls out, just enough for his tip to nudge your swollen and used hole. “And then, just remind me one more time what month it is, sweet cheeks?” 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip. “July…”

“Ah, yes, July.” He slams back into you, tears welling up. 

“Think we can go at it faster than em jackrabbits?”

—𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 ⭒

Last updated: 07/29/25

[vanillaxbambi]

.+*not so soft || jeong yunho.

“yeah, i could be gentle… but that aint what you like.”

.+*contains: softdom!yunho x bratty sub!femreader . . . || degradation | soft dom switch to hard dom | light bondage | squirting ||

.+*wc: 1.3k

synopsis: your loving boyfriend has always taken care of you as if you were a delicate piece of glass. tonight? you’ve definitely tested his limits.

m i k a 🌷: naturally… i would be inspired by the freaked out lyrics of in your fantasy. ESPECIALLY MY MANS YUNHO’S LINES GRAHHHHHH. anywho, enjoy. this was longer than i intended.

m a s t e r l i s t .

he tried.

he really, really tried to be gentle with you tonight.

yunho had started off slow—sweet kisses, soft touches, letting his hands explore you like you were delicate. like you might break.

but you? you weren’t in the mood to be handled with care.

you’d pulled at his hair, whined about how slow he was going, rolled your hips down onto his lap with too much purpose. and when he pushed your shirt up, brushing his fingers over your ribs with reverence, you looked him dead in the eye and said:

“you gonna keep treating me like a soft baby, or you gonna fuck me already?”

something in him snapped.

his fingers stopped mid-stroke. his gaze sharpened. and the next time he touched you, it wasn’t careful.

it was commanding.

he dragged you off his lap and threw you on the bed like you were nothing but a toy he was tired of teasing.

“you’ve got a smart mouth,” he muttered, standing over you, eyes raking down your body. “i’ve been nothing but sweet to you. and you’re still acting like a fucking brat.”

you smirked, thinking it was a game.

but when he grabbed your jaw and made you look up at him, there was no sweetness left in his expression.

“you wanna get used?” he asked, tone dark and dangerous. “you wanna see what i’m like when i stop pretending to be nice?”

your breath caught.

“get on your knees.”

you obeyed. fast. something about his voice left no room for hesitation.

you settled between his legs, hands resting on your thighs, chest rising with anticipation. he undid his belt with maddening calm, letting the leather drag through the loops. you could hear your pulse in your ears.

“open your mouth.”

you did, lips parting slowly.

yunho ran his thumb along your lower lip, then slipped it inside—watching as you instinctively wrapped your tongue around it.

“look at you,” he muttered. “always so defiant until i put something in your mouth.”

he dragged his thumb out and replaced it with two fingers—deep, rough, pressing past your tongue and holding them there until your throat clenched.

“gag on it, baby,” he cooed. “show me how much you wanna choke on my cock.”

you whimpered.

he pulled his fingers out, wiped them on your cheek, then used them to tilt your face up again. “such a good little slut when you’re quiet.”

he dragged you up by your arm and bent you over the bed without warning. the tie he usually wore for work became your wrist restraint, looped behind your back and tugged taut.

“keep those hands there. move, and i stop. understood?”

“yes,” you breathed. “yes, yunho.”

he slid your panties down slow—just to admire the way you were already soaked.

“fucking dripping,” he muttered. “you’re disgusting— pathetic thing.”

you moaned.

“you like that? being called names?” he spat, pushing your legs apart with his knee. “want me to treat you like the little cockdrunk toy you are?”

“yes, fuck—please—”

you didn’t get to finish begging.

because yunho slammed into you in one unforgiving thrust.

you screamed into the sheets, body jolting forward from the force.

“that what you wanted?” he growled, grabbing your tied wrists and shoving them into the small of your back. “you wanted to be fucked like a hole? just used until you cry?”

“yes—yes—yes—”

“mm. now you’re being honest.”

he pulled out almost completely before thrusting back in, harder. faster. his hips slapping against your ass with obscene rhythm.

“feel that? how deep i am?” he grunted. “you’re so fucking small, i can feel your pussy sucking me in. greedy little thing.”

your legs shook. your body was already trembling.

and then he reached around and slapped your clit.

hard.

“don’t you dare cum,” he growled. “not until i say.”

“fuck—yunho—please—”

“you don’t get to beg, baby,” he hissed into your ear. “you lost that right the second you started acting like a brat.”

he kept thrusting. kept rubbing your clit. kept making filthy little observations between groans. “you hear how wet you are? nasty fucking sounds, baby.”

“look at that—your thighs are shaking. you gonna fall apart already?”

“what would your friends say if they saw you like this, huh? bent over and drooling for me?”

your body jolted again.

“answer me.”

“they’d—they’d say i’m a fucking mess,” you sobbed. “they’d say i’m pathetic for loving it—”

yunho groaned like it turned him on more than anything.

“pathetic little mess,” he echoed, thrusting faster. “you’re gonna cum now. do it. i want this pussy ruined.”

you exploded.

your orgasm hit like a flood, body twitching, mouth open in a silent cry, tears dripping down your cheeks as he fucked you through it.

but he didn’t stop.

not when you clenched. not when you begged. not even when your knees collapsed and your face pressed into the mattress.

“what’s the matter, angel?” he taunted, voice still sweet despite how brutal his hips were. “thought this was what you wanted?”

you sobbed. incoherent. overstimulated.

he leaned over and whispered: “i could’ve been gentle. could’ve kissed you slow, made you cum on my fingers like always. but that ain’t what you like, is it?”

you whimpered, trying to pull away.

he slapped your ass and pinned your hips down.

“nah, don’t run now. take it.”

you came again. violently. messily. your legs gave out and your body shuddered like you’d been struck by lightning.

“fuck,” yunho grunted. “you’re squirting on my cock.”

he sounded proud. “good fucking girl.”

he finally groaned when he came, deep and long, pulling your wrists up as he buried himself to the hilt. your cunt twitched around him, completely spent, wrecked, stretched beyond recognition.

you both breathed heavy.

and then—

his hand slid to your back.

gentle. soft. stroking.

“you okay, angel?”

you nodded, tears still on your cheeks, face flushed.

he kissed your temple, then untied your wrists with careful fingers.

“you were so perfect for me,” he whispered. “did so fucking well.”

you slurred something close to “thank you,” brain foggy from orgasm after orgasm.

he pulled you into his chest, kissing your shoulder. “next time,” he whispered, voice low and teasing, “maybe think twice before calling me soft.”

[littlefireball]

ᴍɢ|[ᴍ]|ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ

Big! Alpha Mingi x Omega Virgin Reader *Smut Warning* Word Count: 1145 Summary: Mingi needs an omega to breed and here you are.  Drabble Masterlist

For an alpha, the next best thing after occupying territory is reproduction. Ensuring the inheritance of one's own bloodline is the foundation of a strong tribe. As the leader, Mingi has never been able to find a suitable mate; he is too big, in every aspect. Compared with him, the omegas in the pack are too tiny, maybe too small enough he would break them as soon as mating started.

Until he met you. 

You were a prisoner of war but he could tell you were different. You showed no fear towards him, at least not in the way he expected. The potent aroma of wood, combined with the scents of gun oil and whiskey, didn't not cause you to flinch; instead, you leaned in to inhale his scent.

Heat, that for sure, both of you were in rut. You felt a strong attraction towards one another, and there were no emotional obstacles in your way─the anger over the destruction of your clan paled in comparison to your instincts and those of a dominant alpha. 

Mingi's instincts were also flaring, telling him two things: you were a healthy breeder, and you were in need of being pinned down. His eyes ran over your form, your curve, making him wonder for a moment exactly how many rounds you could take without needing a little, or a long rest. 

Of course, he would find it out. 

"You'd love my dick, don't you? So big for you…little bunny" Mingi positioned himself behind you, leveling his dripping dick with your pussy. His girthy cock just fit perfectly between your tight asses. You could feel every vein scraping every inch of your skin as he rocked his hips. 

"Yes..I love it…" You found yourself answering him without thinking. All was overwhelmed and you could only follow your omega instincts. 

"I'm going to fill you with my pups, you get it?" He kept his hands on the top of your butt, spreading it each time he thrust with rhythm to give more space to his throbbing cock. Translucent white liquid oozed from the swollen tip, flowing down along the curve and soaking your buttcrack. The sticky feeling made him let out a low roar— oh, it must be good to fill you up with his seeds, his pups. And you'll be the omega who's heavy with his cums, the mother of his kids. 

"Pretty…pretty…pretty…my…my…my…"

Slightly rapid breathing mixed with sweet, broken whispers that barely reached your ears, your brain spinning from the overwhelming lust and overstimulation. What you could do was ass in the air, lay on the wet mattress that soaked with both of your sweat and cums that evidence of previous multiple orgasms and let him do all the things he wants. 

He guided his long, thick dick to your clit, which was red and swollen from the rough eating out and fingering. Lining up against your entrance, he dragged his tip up and down from your pussy to the leaking clit before starting to split you in half. 

God — he is big, too big for your tiny frame. But he will make it fit —no—he must. You've never been stretched like this – different from his fingers and tongue – it's thicker, longer and harder. You couldn't think straight, your heat driving your instincts into overdrive. All you knew was you wanted to submit to him, let him breed you. 

He slammed his hips into you, giving your cunt a number of harsh slap while his fat knot met your pussy with a loud patting sound. The excitement from the tightness and the warmth of your ruined cunt caused him to let out a low groan. The white seed oozed out as his tip met your spongy walls harshly, purposely. 

The pain was sharp, but in a perfect way. Shattered moans and soft whimpers escaped your tongue, his every push driving the oxygen out of your lungs. He didn't pause, didn't relent, not for a goddamn second.

A thin strand of sperm trickled down to the knot, swaying with his thrust, the seeds cascading down your legs, as if he were claiming you in every conceivable manner.

"I'm going to fill you up, make you round and heavy with our puppies. They'll be strong and healthy, like their father. You want that, don't you?"

"Yes…" You managed to say, shivering at his possessive tone and the promise of being bred full. "Please..I want that." You could almost picture it, could almost feel the weight of the pup inside you, and it made your heart ache with a primal need. "Fill me up." 

"Mate." He let out a low growl, repeating it over and over, as if it was the only thing he knew. "Mine, Mine, Mine." 

His fingers suddenly moved up, grasping your waist tightly as he leaned down to press his cock deeper. He tugged your body back to meet his hips slap, his tip gave a harsh crush to the entrance of your reproductive cavity. A high note gasp tore from your chest as your fist curled around the material of the mattress, clinging to it like a lifeline. 

"Let me in, dear." That was not a beg, a plea but a command. Both of his hands grabbed the headboard as a support, his knuckles turning white as he shoved his tip deeper and deeper. Every snap of his dick made the cheap bunk creak. The base of the knot attempted to squeeze in your vaginal, humping your fold around his ball. 

A tingling sensation coursed through your limbs like a jolt of electricity as the climax drew near. There was a need for release, a need to push forward. He knew you; the way your entrance would slightly part each time he arrived there made his alpha instincts roar.

A low groan came out from his body as he quickened his pace, tapping the same spot with the same force and speed. "Fuck…yes…!!" The orgasm brought both of you to heaven. He slammed one—two— times to finally shove his knot to fit in your velvet vaginal. 

The sperm surged forth in a stream, enveloping you completely and saturating every nook and cranny. He continued to move, fully sinking down his cock within your cunt  until he hit the most profound depth, then pulled back just a bit before plunging in once more.

"You feel my knot, hm? So big and good, right?" His hand climbed on your neck, tightening around it firmly but not painful. His murmurs were akin to venom, his pure, unbridled need compelling you to yield to him, permitting him to mark you with his wood, whiskey and gun oil scent.

"Yes…alpha…" "My good girl…" He brought you into a lazy yet full of possessive kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to deepen the kiss. Now, you are his forever omega. 

tag list: @angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615, @monsta-x-jagi, @sunnysidesins, @xidkkk, @vtyb23

[stxrrywoo]

BLISTERING HEAT ── j.wy

synopsis ; you started to notice changes in wooyoung's behavior, it was as if he was avoiding you entirely. he was going into a rut and kept trying to push you away, but you'd be dammed if you'd let him go through it alone.

pairing(s) ; wooyoung x f!reader

☆ ── wc. ; 3.7k ☆ ── genre ; hybrid!au, fox hybrid!wooyoung, human!reader, a small bit of fluff, smut (honestly just pure filth I'm ngl) ☆ ── tw. ; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, wooyoung goes into his rut (obvi.), clit play, unprotected sex, dom!wooyoung x sub!reader, big dick!wooyoung, rough and messy sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, messy makeout, petnames (baby, babydoll, sweetheart, pup...), biting/marking, licking, blood, slight degradation and praising, EXTREAM breeding, possessiveness, manhandling, dumbification, subspace mentioned, dirty talk, derogatory names (cocksleeve), knotting, creampie, slight cockwarming, reader does say no but only because of pleasure (everything is consensual!), hair pulling, choking, slight breath play, dacryphilia, begging, slight pain kink, forced orgasm, lmk if I missed anything!!

You sat at the kitchen table with a warm cup of tea in your hands as you watched the doorway, a distant look in your eyes. Wooyoung had been acting weird for the past week. It started with him not wanting to be within a certain distance of you, to avoid you at all costs. He even stopped sleeping in the bedroom with you and would lock himself in the guest room without so much as a word. You had tried to talk to him and ask if there was anything wrong, but he would brush you off, saying he was fine.

It was some time after twelve that you saw him creep into the dining room, his fuzzy ears twitching as he looked around. As soon as his eyes met yours, he quickly averted his gaze, trying to push down the overwhelming heat that was building in his gut.

“There’s food on the stove.” You told him, trying to offer him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Thanks.” Wooyoung felt horrible that he was treating you like this but he’s never dealt with a rut when he was around another person, much less a human or someone he loved dearly. He was worried that he would scare you off.

You let out a deep sigh when he disappeared through the kitchen door. You wanted to understand what was going on, but he was making it hard when he wouldn’t even speak more than two words to you. Setting your now lukewarm tea down on the table, you pulled your phone from the pocket of your cardigan. You were determined to determine what was going on, whether or not he’d tell you.

Wooyoung slipped past you once more with a bottle of water in his hand, his gaze filled with guilt when you wouldn’t even look up at him. Swallowing thickly, he walked out of the dining room and made his way back to the guest room, where he would lock himself in for the next few days.

Opening your phone you went to the first person that you could think of that might have the answers you’re looking for. Hitting the green button you placed the phone against your ear, listening to the rings. After the third ring you heard the line connect before her voice flowed through the speaker.

“Hello?” 

“Hey Leila, it’s y/n.” You greeted her with a smile; it had been a while since you’d heard her voice.

“Y/n! How are you?” Leila asked, a chirp in her voice as you heard her rustling from the other side of the phone.

“I’m… okay. I actually had a question.”

“Is everything okay? It’s not the hunters again, is it?” She asked a sense of urgency in her tone to which you quickly reassured her that it wasn’t the hunters, that they hadn’t shown their faces in a while.

“It’s actually Wooyoung.” You started to explain to her everything that had been happening for the last week, and by the time you were done, she had let out a short burst of giggles. Confused, your eyebrows scrunched together, “What’s so funny? I’m actually worried something might be wrong, and I want to help.”

“Babe… he’s starting his rut.” Her words left you stunned because why hadn’t that crossed your mind? But what stunned you even more were the new few words that left her lips, “If you really want to help, the best you can do is offer yourself to him.”

–

Later that night, after getting out of the shower, you walked into your room with your towel wrapped tightly around your body. Just as you were about to grab your shirt, you heard a loud bang from the other room. Panic filled your veins, and you completely forgot about your clothes and darted out of your room. 

“Wooyoung, are you okay?” Your voice shook as you knocked rapidly on the guest bedroom door, but there was no response. Listening carefully, you could hear his labored breathing from the other side, which only caused you to worry even more. “Wooyoung, open the door.”

“Go away, y/n.” His voice was stern, but you could still hear the pain underneath. He had to have been fighting this off for a while now and it made you feel guilty that you didn’t notice before.

“I just wanna help Woo.” Your tone softened as you wrapped your fingers around the doorknob, but you knew right away it was locked when it wouldn’t budge.

“You can’t help me; just go back to– ugh!” He was cut off by a groan, and you acted quickly, rushing back to your room to grab the spare key before going back to the door.

“Stop being so stubborn, and let me help!” You scold the boy through the door as you knock, wanting to give him a chance to open it himself before you barged in. However, he didn’t give you a response, but you could hear his low growls. “You have three seconds to open this door before I open it myself.” You tried to sound authoritative, but there was still a slight tremor in your voice from the worry that was digging its claws into your spine.

You heard him grumble something from inside the room but couldn’t quite make it out. Giving him a few more moments, you started to insert the key into the keyhole.

“One.”

“Stop, y/n, I don’t want to hurt you.” You could hear the pain in his voice before the sound of another crash was heard, causing you to jump.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Woo. I trust you.” There was a softness in your tone that lured the fox to the door, his hand resting on the doorknob as he fought his inner turmoil. What if he really did hurt you? Would you forgive him? What if he scared you away? He didn’t think he would be able to live with himself if he did, but– “Please, Wooyoung.”

At the pleading tone in your voice, the last bit of his willpower faded away, and he unlocked the door before tearing it open.

A gasp fell from your lips when he appeared in front of you. His raven hair was a mess, and his ears sat flat on his head as if he were awaiting your lecture. His eyes were trained on your face, a small scowl resting upon his features, but despite all of that, you reached forward, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“God, you’re burning up.” Your voice was soft, your thumb brushing under the skin of his eye. Wooyoung closed his eyes, a low purr emitting from his throat from your touch. Until another sudden wave of heat rushed over his body, and he doubled over. 

You cried out his name before rushing to his side, worried that this might just be something more than his rut. Yet when he raised his head, you almost had to step back from the borderline predatory gleam in his eyes. That was also when he noticed that you were in nothing but a plain white towel that barely reached mid-thigh. 

Inhaling deeply, you moved closer to him as he rose back up, his eyes never leaving your form. With shaky hands, you reached down for his hand before bringing it up to your neck. Wooyoung’s pupils dilated as he felt your quickened pulse under his fingertips, almost salivating at the thought of biting into your skin. Marking you officially as his and his alone.

“I want to help Youngie.” The slight whine in your tone caused him to let out a low growl before his fingers wrapped around the delicate skin of your neck, pulling you closer to him. A choked whimper fell from your lips as you looked up at him, fingers lazily wrapping around his wrist but making no move to pull him away.

His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he saw was unbridled lust and need. Leaning his head down just far enough to let his nose bump against yours, he spoke in a low, growly tone.

“Are you sure? Once I start, I won’t be able to stop. No matter how much you beg.” His words send a shiver down your spine. The simple thought of him being so lost in his animalistic pleasure to the point where he’s completely ruining you made your core ache.

You bring your face just centimeters away from his, looking deep into his hooded eyes, “Ruin me then, Woo.”

Those words were the straw that broke the camel's back. His lips surged forward, crashing into yours at a bruising speed. He was moving so quickly that you could barely keep up with him, even as he released your neck.

“Woo…” You breathed out as he snatched the towel from your body, letting the cool air of the room nip at your bare skin. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. His nose pressed right against your jugular as he inhaled deeply, fingers tracing the curves of your body until he got to your hip.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He growled against your skin as he moved further down, cupping your bare heat in the palm of his hand. A small whimper fell from your lips as he parted your folds, tracing his fingertips along your slit before pressing down on your clit. “Oh, you’re already soaked, babydoll. Does the thought of me ravishing your body turn you on so much?” 

“Woo– fuck! Please.” You begged the fox, staring up at him with needy eyes, causing his dick to twitch in his pants, the last bit of his sanity slowly melting away.

Without so much as a word, he lifted your body from the ground before walking over to the bed and throwing you down onto the soft mattress. As soon as your back hit the mattress, Wooyoung was all over you, slotted right between your thighs. His lips traced every curve of your body, licking, nipping, and marking any part of your skin he could reach until you were withering underneath him.

“Youngie.” You whined, fingers threading through his soft locks until you met with the base of his ears. A low growl seeped from his throat as you gently tugged on one of his ears.

“I need to be in you, babydoll. I need to fuck your slutty little cunt until you’re filled to the brim with my seed. Until I’ve bred you properly.” His words came out in a low tone as he bit at your collarbone, slightly harder than before, nearly drawing blood. The sweet sound of your whimper went straight to his cock that was straining against his sweats.

His words left your mind spiraling. The thought of being so full of just him had your aching cunt clenching around nothing. A soft moan fell from your mouth as you pulled him back up to your swollen lips, sealing them with his in a hungry kiss.

“Yours.” You breathed out, eyes half-lidded as he pulled away, “All yours, Woo, please.”

It was then that the last bit of his sanity flew right out the window, his instincts fully taking over as he quite literally ripped his clothes from his body. Your aching cunt quivered at the sight of his throbbing cock, standing proudly against his lower stomach. 

“Gonna fuck you so good.” He growled as he took his cock into his hand, using his precum to slide up and down the length. “Everyone will know you’re mine. All mine.”

You barely had time to process what was happening as he grabbed your legs right behind your knees, pushing them up against your chest before you felt him probing at your entrance. A choked moan fell from your lips as he pushed into your needy cunt, his eyes watching as you swallowed his dick whole before he pulled back out.

“W-Woo–” You were cut off by a loud cry when he thrust back into you with an unimaginable force, nearly sending your mind into orbit.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.” He repeated to word like a mantra as he fucked into your tight cunt, barely leaving you any room to breathe. He pressed down on your legs even more until you were damn near folded in half, the smooth tip of his cock pressing right against that spongy spot in your cunt with every thrust.

Tears were streaming down the sides of your face as you tried your best to keep up with his pace, fingers curled into the sheets. A broken mixture of curses and his name rolled off of your tongue, eyes rolling back as you become overtaken with pleasure.

“Your body was made just for me.” Wooyoung groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing together as he continued to fuck into your tight hole. “Perfect for carrying my kits.”

You clenched around him as he spoke those dirty words against your lips, swallowing all of your pretty noises. His nails dug into your thighs until they broke the skin, a trail of crimson blood flowing down the side of your leg before dripping onto the sheets. The mixture of pain and pleasure suddenly had you toppling over the edge, your back arching off the bed as a loud moan tore through your throat.

A deep animalistic growl reverberated from Wooyoung’s chest as he fucked you through your high, but never slowing down. Stars danced across your vision as he seemed to pick up the pace, his thrust growing even more harsh.

“W-Wooyoung!” You nearly screamed when his lips latched onto your neck, teeth nipping at your skin. There was no way that you were going to come out of this without any bitemarks, but you weren’t really in the right state of mind to complain.

Your hands flew to his back as soon as he latched onto the junction of your neck, his canines sinking deep into your skin. A sharp cry fell from your lips at the stinging sensation before he withdrew his fang, licking over the wound. Your nails racked against the skin of his back, causing him to hiss, his hips stuttering just slightly but never losing rhythm.

When his low, throaty groans started to turn into high-pitched whimpers, you knew he was close, just needing a little more. Trailing your hand up his back, you ran your fingers through his hair before gently taking his ear into your palm.

“F-Fuck!” He moaned loudly in your ear as he came, shooting thick, hot streams of cum deep inside your walls, his pace slowing just a bit.

Your head fell back against the soft mattress, eyes fluttering shut as his lips continued to wander the skin of your neck and shoulder. You thought he would knot you like he always had before and would call it good, but when you felt him pull away without knotting, your eyes snapped open.

“You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” His voice was deep as he cocked his head to the side, the blackness of his pupils nearly overtaking the whites of his eyes.

The air was knocked out of your lungs when he flipped your body effortlessly, laying you flat on your stomach. His hands were quick to find your hips, pulling them up until your back was arched the way he wanted.

“I still have so much more to give you, baby.” He chuckled darkly as he pressed his tip against your twitching hole, watching as you eagerly sucked him in. You buried your face into the sheets as he pushed into you with one sharp thrust, his tip pushing right against your cervix.

Tears stained the sheets underneath you as he relentlessly bullied his cock into your abused pussy, his hands tight on your hips. Muffled cries and moans were the only sounds that emitted from your body. Your cognitive function to form words flew right out the window.

“Such a good little cocksleeve,” He cooed, leaned down until his back was pressed against your chest, his lips finding the back of your shoulder. “Taking everything, I give you like a good girl.” The mixture of his derogatory names and praises made your body melt, and if it wasn’t for his hold, you would have surely fallen flat on the mattress.

“Y-Youngie!” You cried out, fat tears falling from your eyes as he continued his relentless pace until your whole body was shaking. “Cumming! ‘M cumming!” Your voice cracked as he fucked you through another orgasm, but once again, his ministrations never stopped, much less slowed down.

White spots started to cloud your mind when he stood up straight once again, using your hips as leverage to fuck into you. Choked sobs left your lips when your body fell into a state of overstimulation. Every nerve felt as if it were on fire.

Moving one hand from your hip, Wooyoung trailed it down the length of your spine before threading his fingers through your hair. With a harsh tug, he pulled your upper body off of the bed, eliciting a strangled moan from your parted lips.

“Look at you, babydoll, such a fucking mess on my cock. Is this what you wanted? Me to fuck you completely dumb? Until the only thought in your pretty little head was my cock? Hmm?” His harsh tone had you quivering in his hold, eyes squeezing shut as you felt another orgasm building up. Letting go of your hair, he grabbed your jaw harshly, turning your head until you were looking at him. “Answer me, pup.” He growled, lips brushing against yours as you whimpered in his hold.

“Y-Yes, I want you to fuck me stupid, Youngie.” You choked out before all the air was stolen from your lungs when his lips crashed into yours. His hand fell from your jaw down to your puffy clit causing your whole body to jolt. “No, no, no, stop Wooyoung! I feel weird.” You cried out as a different type of pressure built up in your lower gut, but he didn’t stop; if anything, your broken pleas only spurred him on.

White spots clouded your vision as that coil in your gut finally snapped, and your release gushed all over Wooyoung’s fingers and cock, even soaking the sheets below your body. It felt like your soul had been detached from your body as he continued to work you through your orgasm, coaxing more and more of your sweet release out of your body.

“Look at the mess you made, sweetheart,” His teasing tone rang in your ears as your head fell back on his shoulder, legs quivering underneath your weight. He moved his hand away from your throbbing clit, allowing you just a moment to breathe before that same hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the soft flesh.

A choked sob tore through your parted lips as he pistoned his hips into yours mercilessly. Your brain felt like it was turning into mush from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. Wooyoung’s fingers tighten around your throat as he buries his face into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“You’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my kits.” Wooyoung licked a stripe up the back of your neck, “such a perfect mommy.” He cooed as he nipped at your skin, feeling another orgasm of his own creeping up.

“W-Woo…” You whimpered in his hold, your head empty except for the thought of his cock buried deep in you until he was sure his seed would take.

“Gonna make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He growled before unexpectedly biting down on the nape of your neck as he came. The sudden infliction of pain pulled yet another orgasm from your spent body, your walls fluttering around his twitching cock, milking him for all he was worth.

Pulling away from your neck, he watched with proud eyes as his mark started to bleed, your sweet crimson blood coating his lips. Your mind was beginning to blank as you slowly came down from your high, only for that peace to quickly be ripped away from you when the fox hybrid pulled out of your cunt.

A small whine emitted from your body when he bent you over once again, pressing your face into the covers. Your jaw fell slack as he pushed his still rock-hard length back into your aching cunt, the mixture of yours and his cum making his movements more fluid.

“Oh, we’re not done yet, baby,” He chuckled darkly, pistoning his hips into yours. The brute force knocked all of the lungs from your body, and all you could do was lay there and take it. The only thought in your mind was Wooyoung’s cock and how painfully good it felt, nudging against your sweet spot.

Wooyoung didn’t stop until you filled to the brim before finally knotting you; the stretch had you cumming for the nth time that night. His arms wrapped around your body as he buried his face in your chest, inhaling your scent. A small pur reverberated from his chest as you ran your shaky fingers through his hair. The world finally felt like it was coming back to you as your body lay there, soaking in each other’s warmth as if you hadn’t been doing that for the past few hours.

“Thank you, baby,” His voice was low as he peppered kisses along the expanse of your chest before resting his chin right between your breasts. You hummed, still not fully trusting your voice, and he smirked before his fingers playfully crept up your side.

“W-Wooyoung!” You choked out his name at the ticklish feeling causing him to chuckle before groaning slightly when he felt that familiar heat bloom in his chest. Noticing the sudden change, you looked down at him in worry, your fingers curling around the nape of his neck. “How much longer will this last?”

Wooyoung took a moment to respond, trying to settle himself before he lost control. He then glanced back at you with worry and borderline guilt, “probably for the next week.”Your head fell back as your eyes fluttered shut, a small groan falling from your lips. This was going to be a long week, but you couldn’t complain. You did offer to help him after all, and by the looks of it, now that he had his hands on you, he wasn’t about to let go.

© 𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮

[maho6any]

Tidal Waves

Best Friend!Song Mingi x F!Reader

summary: When you and your ex-boyfriend were still dating, you both booked a cruise trip with the intention of going together to have a romantic week on the water. Well, things didn't go as planned, and the tickets are non-refundable. So naturally, you ask your best friend to come with you in his place! Nothing could possibly go wrong!

warnings: best friends to lovers, cruise trip, tension, curly headed reader implied (3c girls rise), jealousy, mingi is very touchy, you two are very close, attempt at humor, teasing, fake dating(briefly but WHO CHEERED), shitty ex, pet names (baby, sweetheart etc.), thigh riding, unprotected sex(BOOOOO), soft mdom, size kink, choking, fingering, mingi is obsessed with you, NOT PROOFREAD

wc: 11.1k

notes: This is kind of based on that one New Girl episode LMAO. I love that show so much.

(Also in your fantasy released and holy fuck its so good aoty for sure jesus christ I keep relistening to the whole album.)

tracklist: 20cm, everybody here wants you, virginia girls

When the email hit your inbox, you wanted to rip out your hair strand by strand. You had let it completely slip your mind. Granted, you booked it a year in advance, and life has surely swept you up in the waves recently, and it never crossed your mind with all that you had going on.

Non-refundable. The cruise was in a week, and the tickets were non-refundable. The last thing you wanted to do was call your ex and ask if he still wanted to go, which was not an option, regardless of whether he actually wanted to or not. You’d rather jump off the ship than be anywhere near him.

So your next best option was to ask a friend to go in his place. And the first name that came to mind?

Song Mingi.

You pulled out your phone and shot him a text asking him to come over, and that was that. Reaching out to Mingi was more natural than breathing. At this point, you two shared breaths, surviving through high school together and now hanging on by a thread in college, you both knew you had each other.

His easy-going, teasing nature perfectly balanced out the worrywart in you. He always assured and validated your thoughts and feelings. He made sure you knew that everything that you thought and felt meant something, a trait your most recent ex lacked incredibly. You knew you could actually enjoy the cruise if Mingi came along.

Minutes later, Mingi waltzed in your door, having a copy of a key to your apartment attached to his key ring. At this point, he basically lived in your apartment, constantly crashing and walking in like he owned the place, especially when he was uninvited.

“Daddy’s home,” he called out, shutting the door behind him and hitting his fist against his chest like a triumphant gorilla.

You grimaced and threw the nearest pillow directly at his face as soon as he was in view.

“Ew. Daddy needs to go out for cigarettes and never come back.” Mingi walked behind the couch, leaning over the back and gently squeezing your shoulders.

“Tough crowd.” He mused, in his usual black tank top and grey sweats, as he plopped down next to you. His big hands took your ankles in his hands and swung your legs up to let them rest on his thighs. Domestic. Comforting. The norm with Mingi. Taking off his glasses and setting them on the coffee table, he massaged absent-minded circles into your calves, soothing the bit of tension you had been building there from constantly being on your feet at work.

“However, you invited me over, love, so I’m not going anywhere. Enlighten me, I’m sure it's important considering you gave me zero information and just a frantic text.” You rolled your eyes and then furrowed your brow in frustration. The laptop in your lap was hot on your thighs, so you turned it around to face the screen towards him.

“Well shit, hold on.” He grabbed his glasses and put them on again, making a show of squinting his eyes and leaning forward to read the email you had pulled up.

He glanced back up at you, then back at the email. He shrugged. “I dunno’, looks kinda scammish to me.” He smiled as you shut the laptop in his face, putting it on the table.

“I love when you use that big beautiful brain of yours,” you deadpanned, poking his forehead gently. Mingi smiled stupidly, with faux sheepishness at your sarcastic comment, gently pinching your calf teasingly. You sighed and took a second before explaining to him.

“My, well… my ex and I-”

Before you could go on, Mingi stood from his seat, with speed that nearly scared you out of your skin. He threw his hands up and paced around the coffee table, shaking his head like he was in agony and making a quite real gagging sound.

He had always been one for dramatics, and this time was clearly no different. You kept your mouth shut and let him put on his little act.

“That prick!” he placed his hands on his head like he had a migraine, gagging again. “If ever see him I'll-” cartoonishly he balled his hands into fists and rotated them in a fighting position like he was about to roundhouse the air. “I swear I'll give it to him… I’ll let him have it!” 

He never liked your boyfriend. At first, you pegged it for jealousy that someone else was taking up your attention, but Mingi insisted he got a “bad vibe” from the start. Every time you complained about him, Mingi always agreed with every negative thing you said, always making sure you didn’t feel crazy about how your boyfriend was acting. It started with small things that simply rubbed you the wrong way at the beginning. Mingi always egged you on with your concerns.

“Why the hell would he open a door for another girl in front of you? Is he dense?”

“Seriously, who hangs up on their girlfriend just to play video games. I’m starting to think he was dropped on his head.”

The comments were always lighthearted, teasing. Like he was annoyed with his actions, but not quite hating him. And then he got worse. And Mingi started opening your eyes to it.

“(Name,) it's not normal to have 4 different contacts in your phone all named 'Pizza Hut.'”

And Mingi was the one who eventually brought you to your senses. You called your boyfriend, called him out, and of course, he got mad when he found out it was Mingi who was encouraging your skepticism and called you some not-so-nice names, accusing you of sleeping with your best friend. You broke up with him, and Mingi was there to babysit you through the breakup. No matter if your ex was a douchebag, it was a 2-year-long relationship, and there will always be wounds to heal.

He punched the air a few times before calmly retaking his seat, directing his full attention to you.

“Are you done?” you asked after letting him have his moment.

“Yes, please continue.” He nodded, hands on your knees as he shook them back and forth softly, urging you to continue.

“Anyway, while we were still together, we bought cruise tickets. Two. Because we thought we could go together. Y’know little romantic outing. Well, obviously, asshole and I are no longer fraternizing and the tickets are nonrefundable, so I wanted you to-” 

Here he goes again. He stands up, hands in the air, as he nods triumphantly and looks about the living room like he is admiring a crowd erupting with applause. He bowed. “Thank you, thank you! You are too kind!” He claps a few times, wiping imaginary tears. You reached up and grabbed his forearm, dragging him back to the couch.

“Sit down! And let me speak.” Mingi shut up immediately and folded his hands in his lap neatly.

 “Yes, ma'am.” 

“So I’m taking that as a yes. The cruise is in a week, and it's all paid for. Please pack more clothes than you did for the Europe trip. I do not want to see you wearing the same stupid pair of khaki shorts the whole time we’re stuck in the middle of the ocean for a week.”

“You know I look sexy in those shorts.” Mingi pats his rather thick thighs, head raised high, while he waits for your praises. You stood up and ignored him, walking to the kitchen to grab some water. You wouldn’t admit to him that, frankly, he looks good in everything he wears, cause then you’d never hear the end of it.

Mingi scoffed as you walked away. “I fear I’m being deprived of the attention I deserve.” 

“Do you really deserve it?” You called from the kitchen. Mingi followed you into the room, resting his arms on the kitchen island and playing with the bowl of oranges sitting in the middle of the countertop.

“You have the blessed privilege of being my friend, so I’d say you’re getting way more than you bargained for.” he picked up a couple of oranges and attempted to juggle them, failing pathetically as they slipped out of his grasp and fell on the counter, rolling onto the floor.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled into your glass as you tipped it to take a sip. “I’d say I am, too.” When you set down the glass, you shot him a pointed look when he bent down to pick up the rolling fruits, and flicked a little water at him.

“And aren’t I the one taking you on a cruise? If anything, you should be on your knees thanking me for a free vacation.” And you knew you shouldn't have said it as soon as the words left your mouth, because here he comes, walking over to you and sinking down onto his knees. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs, and he presses his forehead to your lower stomach, that stupid puppy-eyed look in his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, thank you so much for the free vacation. I am beyond honoured. How could I ever repay you?” Earlier on in your friendship, this probably would have sent your brain into overdrive, having such an attractive man on his knees for you. But this is Mingi. It's an act; he puts on shows just for you, because he knows that one day he could possibly catch you on a weak day and actually push some buttons. Now you just wanted to kick him. He loved getting under your skin and finding new ways to make you squirm. Not even in a perverted way, that was just simply his nature.

Playful, headache-inducing, too sexy for his own good, Song Mingi. 

And like every single time, you can’t help but play along.”You can repay me by getting off your knees and driving to pick us up some dinner.”

He squeezes your thighs, spreading his fingers wider and letting them sink into the plush flesh, clearly not making a move to stand. “C’mon, you don’t like me down here?” he spoke against your belly button, always so comfortable touching you, the gestures never giving you those stomach-twisting butterflies anymore. 

You shrug. “I don’t know you’re not really doing anything. You’re just groveling.” Mingi smiles, and he does that stupid thing with his voice that you unfortunately haven’t built an immunity to after all these years.

His eyelids lower, and he drops his voice to a murmur, the baritone of his voice rumbling through your body like a shockwave. “Would you like me to do something? Give me a command, I’m at your service.”

Fuck, you hate when he does that, he knows that. Cheeky prick.

You cough, bringing a hand down and pressing a palm against the top of his head, nudging him away from your abdomen. “I’d like for you to get up and feed me, Min.” You managed to keep your voice steady, pretending to have no interest in his antics, picking up your glass again and taking another sip.

A few beats of silence, his gaze lingering as he cranes his neck to watch you drink, your hand still on his head.

Finally, he complies, and your racing heart slows. He stands, rolling his eyes. He walks to the living room, grabbing his keys and his glasses. “Yes, ma’am. Olive Garden?” he says matter of factly, knowing what your answer would be, hand already on the door handle.

“You know it. Extra Andes mints, please,” you chide, but you knew you didn’t have to tell him. He already knew.

“On it,” he calls, halfway out the door already. “Love ya, bye.” The door shutting cut him off, and once you heard his car start and pull out of the lot, you let yourself have your moment. You brought a hand to your chest and the other splayed on your stomach, still feeling the lingering heat of his touch.

Too intense. Yes, he had always been this way, but since you and your boyfriend broke up, he seemed to be getting bolder. You guess you could understand. There's no other man around, which means he no longer has to honor the “bro code,” so now he can really show you how much he cares for you, and it's always been touch.

Holding hands, lingering caresses against the nape of your neck, fingers buried in your hair soothingly massaging the scalp, he just liked to touch you and to hold you. It's like it grounded him, it let him know you were really here. And you welcomed it with open arms, because he’s your best friend. And you’d do anything for him, and vice versa. He had ways of tearing down your walls, but could still help you build them back up when you needed them. He was your other half, and frankly, you couldn't really say your ex was ridiculous for thinking what he did about Mingi.

But none of that matters. Your ex is gone, and you can enjoy this cruise with your closest friend without having to worry about your boyfriend looking at other bikini-clad bodies and admitting to you that "your head has been getting rather sloppy" after he’s had a couple of♡ mimosas.

What a fucking dick.

♡

“No,” you bite, hand half covering your eyes.

“What? You’re just a hater.” Mingi pouts, posing proudly, the sea winds whipping his hair around his face, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Mingi, you literally cannot wear that on the boat, I'm so serious.” You look away, trying to make it seem like you didn’t know him. “Change, please. I know you have another shirt.”

“What's wrong with it?!” He gripped the hem of the shirt with his fingertips, spreading it out and looking down at it.

“People are going to think you’re a fucking swinger dude. Pineapples? On a cruise? Are you sure this isn’t your first day on earth?” You turn around and look up at the open blue sky, trying to ignore the pointed stares of people passing by to board the boat.

“I don't get the big deal with the pineapples. Like, why specifically pineapples? Why not oranges? I feel like I might look a little less appealing in oranges…”

“Mingi, who cares what fruit you look good in!”

“I do…” he pouted.

“Just change your shirt, dude, please. I don’t need swingers trying to take you below deck…” You frowned at him, and he looked you over, huffing dramatically. He could never say no to you. Especially when you said please.

“Fine, fine, I’ll change.” You turn to look at him again, and this time he is shirtless, rummaging through the beach bag on his shoulder. The sun caught his skin perfectly, the shadowed dips and ridges in his abdomen highlighted, and his arms flexed each time he grabbed something in the bag as he rummaged. His navy blue swim trunks hung low on his hips, leaving little to the imagination as the very visible V line dipped behind the waistband and disappeared.

“And yeah sure, just go ahead and strip naked while you’re at it.” You threw up a hand in defeat; you could never truly win. Mingi smirked, grabbed a different shirt, and stood straight to look at you again. 

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he wiggled his eyebrows. You groaned in response, lowering your voice as he slipped the gray swim shirt on.

“I wouldn’t, but I think all the other women boarding the cruise would be quite partial to a show with the way they’re all gawking right now.” And lo and behold, a group of like 10 girls alone walked past you two, giggling and tripping over themselves at the sight of your shirtless friend. 

Mingi paid them no mind, not even bothering to glance their way, his gaze solely focused on you. “Jealous?” he quipped, slinging the bag over his back and cocking his head toward the ship. “C’mon, before they leave us.”

“They’re not gonna leave us.” You sighed, following behind as he walked away.

“Um, uh huh. They’re not gonna wait for your slow ass because you want to sightsee.”

“I am never late,” you bite back, pressing your foot to the back of his knee in a failed attempt to fold him like a lawn chair. “It's always you, don’t try to pass your title on to me. Remember that time we were supposed to be at a study group and you didn’t show up until after the entire session was over?”

Mingi laughed, waving his hand dismissively. “That's different because that was intentional. I didn’t feel like sitting in a library cubicle for 3 hours while our appointed “group leader” wrote barely legible points on a whiteboard. Boring!!! I’d rather be jerking o-”

That deserved a smack to the back of the head, which you administered before he could finish his sentence. “And that's enough out of you. We’re not even on the fucking boat yet.” He winced, rubbing the back of his head.

“I didn’t even hit you that hard, you baby.” You stood in line beside him on the ramp that entered the ship. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t hit me at all,” Mingi sneered, reaching a hand out and tugging a lock of your hair.

When you entered the cruise ship and made it to the atrium, you didn’t realize just how grand it was actually going to be. The tallest ceilings imaginable, winding staircases every which way, endless balconies, and chandeliers that looked big enough to live in. It was beautiful in every way.

With your keys in hand, you both took the elevator to get to your shared cabin, and it wasn’t until you were in front of the door that you realized that you had booked a lovers' suite. You pressed the keycard against the door and pushed the door open. Well shit.

Dark, shiny wooden floors, a large window opening up to the vast blue ocean. A recliner, a small couch, and a quite large circular-shaped bed. Elegant. Large. Intimate. White canopies hung around the bed frame, and the furniture was all dark and quite comfy-looking. You had no issue sharing a bed with Mingi, but the fact that it was obviously a lover’s suite, it did feel a little… different.

Like a kid in a candy store, Mingi rushed into the room and immediately threw himself onto the bed, wrinkling the sheets and letting his face sink into the plush comforter. 

“Oh yeah,” he spoke, voice incredibly muffled with his face in the mattress. “I’m never leaving.” You set your bags down and walked around, taking in the room. It was spacious, plenty of room to move around, but it still somehow felt so stuffed.

“We’ll have to head to the deck soon. The captain will probably have a few words, and then we can go explore the ship.” Mingi sprang from the bed, whipping to face you.

“Well, why are we sitting here fucking around?  Let's go!” He grabbed your hand and dragged you from the room, heading back up to the deck.

♡

You had been on the ship for 2 days. By this time, you had thoroughly explored the ship with Mingi and tried only half of the drinks they had available at the bars. And you’d think you’d learn after 2 crazy hangovers that maybe you should give the drinking a rest, but there was always something new to try. It was like the ship was endless, a whole new world,

You were far out into the ocean by now, sailing leisurely. You often found yourself sunbathing on the main deck, splayed out on a beach chair, and soaking in the sun. Mingi would either be lying next to you or in the on-deck pool playing catch with the other vacationers.

It was interesting watching him get used to the new space; it took some breaking in for both of you to realize that the chance of the ship suddenly sinking was low. Spending hours in the cabin trying not to panic at the thought. Mingi assured you, and in turn, you assured him.

It was going so well, you needed this vacation, and the only issue you had was that eventually you would have to go back home. Well, it was the only issue.

You sat up in your chair to see where Mingi was. He was at the edge of the pool in front of your chair, arms resting on the deck as he lay his head on his arms, looking at you. The sunglasses on his face blocked his eyes, but you could easily feel his gaze on you.

“Can I help you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction. Mingi didn’t say anything for a second before bracing his palms on the deck and pushing himself out of the pool. Honestly fuck him. 

The water dripped off his toned body as he lifted out of the pool, his hair and trunks soaked and his skin sun-kissed from the days in the sun already.

He walked over to your chair, and you had to pretend like looking at him all tan and wet wasn’t making you think of things you definitely shouldn’t have been.

He reached his hand up, running hands through his damp hair, pouting while he concentrated. He always pouted when he was fixing his hair. He had little quirks and traits you noticed about him just being around him all the time. Whenever he took pictures or videos of himself, he was always watching himself so intently, monitoring every move. You had called him self-obsessed, and of course, he didn’t deny it.

“Why shouldn’t I? I look good, who wouldn’t wanna look at me?” When he laughed, he’d fall over himself, unable to keep still as the giggles wracked his body.

And now here he was, dripping wet and towering over your chair, and women all around the deck were staring, their boyfriends desperate to steal their attention back from your best friend.

When he was done with his hair, he looked down at you, nodding as if in approval. “You always look so good in the sun.” He said it simply, like it was just a normal thing to say. You guessed it was, but when you were both half-naked and sweating from the heat of the sun, it had different connotations. You took a long sip of your tequila sunrise, locking eyes with Mingi as he watched you.

Your hair had gotten a bit frizzy after a couple of laps in the pool earlier, and tan lines were beginning to form around the straps of your bathing suit. The stretch marks littered around your thighs are more visible, and the sheen of your skin makes it seem like you were glowing. You both didn’t move for a moment, and time was still. You picked the slice of orange out of your drink, slipping it into your mouth and chewing on it.

“Is it good?” Mingi said, and you could have sworn his voice sounded slightly strained. Maybe it was the heat.

“Yeah, want some?” You reached out to hand him the glass, and you expected him to take the glass from you. Instead, his hand cupped around yours, leaning down and sipping from the glass while it was still in your hand. His palm, large and warm, pressed against your knuckles as he drank.

“Not all of it, asshole!” He laughed around the straw and pulled off, licking his lips and stealing the cherry from the glass, popping it into his mouth.

“Get your own if you’re gonna be greedy.” You pout, taking another sip from your drink. Mingi was about to retort when someone called out to you from the other side of the boat.

“(Name)! No way! Didn’t think I’d see you here!” Your spine pulled, and your eyes widened at the familiar voice. Mingi did the same, an annoyed grimace spreading across his face as he realized who was speaking.

Walking towards you two from the other side of the ship, your ex. In swim trunks with a beer in one hand and a blonde attached to his hip, he sauntered over, waving to you both.

“Mingi’s here too? Hah! What’d you do, give him my ticket?” He was all smiles and laughs, probably buzzed out of his mind. The girl next to him laughed with him. But it was like she was barely there. Like she was an attachment or an accessory.

Mingi turned to you and gestured for you to stand up. “Get up, c’mere.” You didn’t move for a second, eyes too busy watching the asshole make his way over.

“(Name.)” Mingi bent down to be eye level with you, cupping your jaw and directing your gaze at him. “Do you trust me?” he murmured.

“Of course.” No hesitation. That shouldn’t even be a question. Of course, you trusted him

“Okay. We are madly in love, got it? Stupid for each other. And… scene.” 

“What?”

Mingi gave you no time, pulling you to your feet and positioning himself behind you. He leaned over your body, his toned chest pressed to your bare back as his arms circled around and locked around your waist, hands resting on your abdomen. He rested his chin against your shoulder, pressing his lips into the crook of your neck. 

“Put on a show and make him jealous,” Mingi whispered against your skin, his breath tickling your neck and making you shiver. His fingertips traced light patterns below your belly button, domestic. When his plan clicked with you, you eased into him, melting against his body and relaxing, you smiled lazily, and Mingi pressed his lips to your ear.

“Showtime, baby.” When your ex finally stood in front of you, he made a face, like he was taken aback. Like usual, Mingi was clinging to you like a koala, but something was different.

“That's exactly what I did,” you snipped, but kept a smile on your face despite the annoyed tone in your voice. “Tickets were non-refundable, so I had Mingi come with me. It works anyway, we got the lovers package, so no losses for us. What, salty you had to buy new tickets?”

Your ex sneered, wrapping his arm around the girl tightly. “Well, I tried to contact you about the tickets, but you had me blocked, and I didn’t wanna come over with your human barnacle always over your shoulder.”

Mingi was littering kisses all along the sides of your neck, hands caressing your waist, and just holding you close to him. “Human boyfriend, actually,” Mingi said, lifting his head and looking him up and down, a clear look of disgust in his gaze as he took your ex in.

“She called me, talking about how she had a couple of tickets for this whole shebang, and she wanted me to come in your place. How could I not? Now I get to see her strutting around all day for a week in all these different bikinis I bought her…” To emphasize his point, he reached forward and adjusted the cup of your bikini top, just enough to push your breasts apart to have them sit perfectly. 

Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Before you both packed for the trip, you went bathing suit shopping with Mingi. He picked out so many for you, having you try them all on, hyping you up in every angle, one, and assuring you in the ones you felt you didn’t like yourself in. He bought you like 12, which you insisted was excessive, but he wanted you to wear every single one this summer.

Your ex pressed his lips into a thin line as his eyes drifted to where Mingi touched you. “C’mon, man, I leave and you jump on her immediately?” You could hear the jealousy lacing his words, your heart thumping in pride at how you were getting under his skin.

Mingi shrugs, your ex's jaw clenching slightly at his nonchalance. Mingi never took him seriously, and your ex always expressed how he felt like Mingi never actually saw him as a man. He felt small and weak around Mingi, and frankly, it was pretty laughable.

“Technically, I had her first, but you left, so I called dibs. What can I say, I'm not one to shy away from opportunities, dude.” And of course, Mingi just had to amp up the ante in ways that you weren't expecting.

One hand teasingly played with the strings of your bathing suit bottom, twirling it around his fingers, while his other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled it over your shoulder, exposing your neck to him more.

His eyes never left your exes, his gaze cold and taunting, as his lips latched onto your neck. His tongue darted out, licking a filthy stripe against you before sucking, and sucking hard. You winced, feeling his teeth nip at the spot a little, right above a vein in your throat, eyes half lidded and narrowed, he made sure your ex was watching the entire time. There was no way he’d wanna miss this.

Your ex ground his teeth as he watched Mingi suck a mark into your skin. He ripped his eyes away to look at the girl beside him, just to catch her staring at Mingi like he was the hottest thing she had ever seen, practically drooling on herself. You, however, felt like Mingi just might be crazy, because now you’re going to have a very clear bruise on your skin from his mouth. And fuck the fact that it was to rattle your ex. You were still stuck on this boat for 3 more days, and he was killing you.

Mingi pulled off with a loud pop, licking the spot he left to soothe it, before pressing a lingering kiss or two to your shoulder. Your ex laughed when his eyes landed on the forming bruise, taking a deep gulp of his beer, almost crushing the can with his grip.

“Clearly, we’re interrupting.” Your ex bit out, running a hand through his hair and giving Mingi a look that could kill.

“N-no, I think it's fine…” His girl mumbled out, seeming to be enjoying the show. Your ex rolled his eyes when he realized he genuinely had nobody on his side at the moment.

“Well, as always, it was nice seeing you (Name.) Mingi, not so much.” Mingi smirked, his eyebrows raising teasingly like he was asking, “What’d I do?”

“Enjoy your vacation, bitch.” your ex mumbled under his breath as he turned and walked away, back to his respective side of the boat, leaving his girl in his dust. She stood staring for a second before snapping out of it.

“I-it was nice meeting you!” She stumbled out before turning on her heel and following him. Once they were out of sight, you pulled yourself from Mingi’s grasp, turning around to look at him, bewilderment written all over your face.

“Song Mingi.” You whisper shouted, reaching a hand up to touch the tender spot on your neck. “You are insane. This is gonna be here for weeks!”

Mingi bit his bottom lip, trying to keep the shit eating grin under bay as he looked at the mark on your neck. “Whoops,” he shrugged. “I think he’s jealous of you.”

“Whoops my ass.” you groaned. “And what do you mean he’s jealous of me?”

 Walking to the edge of the pool and slipping in the cool water, sighing at the stark contrast of the chill against your very heated skin.

“I mean, you’ve got such a hot babe such as myself all over you, how could he not be jealous?” He smiled, feeling triumphant with his joke. The ever-so-humble Mingi. You laughed him off,  enjoying the feel of the pool water swallowing you up.

He did not need to go that far, but you didn’t stop him. You let him mark you, and he did it so naturally. Your stomach fluttered, and you dunked your head under the water to try and clear the thoughts from your head. It felt like a line that had never been drawn was crossed. There really was never a line of boundaries between you and Mingi. Everything was on the table for the most part. But the way he so sensually licked up your throat and held you with his burning hands like he couldn’t stand to be away from you had your mind reeling. What now?

Mingi sat on the beach chair, watching as you ascended from under the water, admiring how the droplets raced down your skin and the way your hair didn’t quite soak up all the water, the sun bouncing off the shiny curls.

Mingi was never shy about admiring you. Any friend can admit that their friend is beautiful, and you were no exception. He loved to watch you do anything. Making coffee, reading a book, cleaning your room, or getting out of the car. You looked pretty in everything you did, and he always made sure you knew.

But now there was something different about the way you moved. He noticed the sway in your hips, the way your hair framed your face and your lashes brushed against your cheeks when you blinked. The way your hands kept absentmindedly touching the bruise on your neck every now and then, and how the spots of discoloration and a few scars here and there all over your body decorate your skin like starlight. He was really seeing you now, and you thrived in the sun. You looked so fucking pretty in the sun.

Now you were lying on a float, sunglasses on and relaxing in the pool, drifting slowly and taking a moment to relax from the heated moment you just narrowly escaped with your head still intact. And Mingi simply sat and watched. He could watch you all day. A weird flame licked at his chest every time he looked at the bruise on your neck, a sense of pride and ownership gripping his heart. He did that. And for something deep in his gut wanted to litter your pretty skin with more.

♡

Nightfall descended once again, the blue sea being swallowed in pitch black darkness, the only lights coming from the ship itself, like you were floating in endless nothing. You and Mingi decided you’d try some new drinks and meander around the ship before heading back to the cabin. You still hadn't seen the whole boat, endless hallways, and vast rooms, still left untouched.

“Okay what about a kiss on the lips?” you ask, eyes glazing over the drink menu on the black chalkboard by the bar.

“Oh boy don’t mind if I do!” Mingi clapped, cheesily puckering his lips and leaning towards you.

“The drink, you jackass.” You glared at him, and Mingi pouted, rolling his eyes and looking back at the chalkboard.

“Whatever. I kind of want to try the blue Hawaiian. Or maybe the Miami Vice. I don't know, they're all so colorful.” You both settled on a drink, Mingi getting a blue Hawaiian, and you settled on a mai tai.

With your drinks in hand, you both left the bar area and started to walk around the ship. The rest of the ship was surprisingly empty, most people already back at their cabins or still on deck or at the bar. A few stragglers here and there, but for the most part, you and Mingi were on your own.

“I feel like we’re in the backrooms,” you said, whispering like you might disturb someone. “It's so liminal back here.” You were both walking side by side down an endless hallway, red plush carpet under your feet, passing a door every 3 steps you took on either side of the hall.

“I think it’s just another floor of cabins,” Mingi spoke into the space, his deep voice bouncing off the beige walls.

“It seems really empty, though. Maybe it's just unoccupied. Where are we going anyway?” You two didn’t plan anything in particular; you just started to drink and walk, light conversation flowing between the two of you, the tension from the earlier encounter with your ex fading into the background.

But when you guys turned the corner to follow the rest of the hallway, you suddenly heard groaning and shuffling of clothes. You and Mingi stopped in your tracks right before you turned the corner. You both slipped behind the wall and peeked around just to see your ex and an entirely new girl making out in the dark against a wall. A brunette this time.

Your face twisted in disgust at his behavior, before Mingi shook your shoulder to grab your attention.

“I’m gonna scream,” Mingi whispered, barely hiding the giggling in his voice as he smiled so wide you thought he might split his face. You couldn't stop the grin on your lips, trying to be the voice of reason.

“No Mingi! Don’t do it…” but you weren’t really trying to stop it. 

“On 3, I scream and then we book it.” You nodded, and your heart raced; you could hear the kissing getting more heated as you braced yourself to get ready to run.

“1..”

“2..”

“3..”

Mingi yelled, and he yelled LOUD. Immediately, you could hear the girl your ex was swapping tongue with scream in fear, and he screamed just as loud, by the time they were frantically asking “what the fuck was that?”, Mingi and you were flying on your feet down the hall, laughing uncontrollably as you both booked it.

“Back to the room!” he cackled, pushing against your lower back, urging you to run faster. Running down long hallways always made it feel like you were moving faster than you actually were, but it was exhilarating.

You turned the corner, laughter still spilling from you both until you made it to the elevator. Mingi repeatedly pressed the up button like it would make it go faster.

“Stop, you're gonna break it!” you said, smacking his wrist. He stopped pressing the button and waited for it to arrive.

 When you both made it back to your cabin, you set your empty glass on the table by the door and fell on the bed, taking a deep breath and sinking into the mattress, trying to regain your composure.

“I hate running." You breathed out, Mingi watched from the vanity as your chest rose and fell with your breaths, still nursing his drink. The alcohol was flowing through your veins and you were hot and tired. You needed to go to sleep.

“Mingi tuck me in,” you called out, flipping over on your back and sitting on the bed looking at him. Mingi raised an eyebrow, saying nothing at your command as he remained glued to his spot.

You groaned. “Please?” And he moved. Setting his glass on the counter and walked over and picked up a pillow. “C’mon, get up for me.”

You stood and let him pull the comforter back, and you slipped underneath as he fluffed your pillows and handed you your phone. “Thank you, Min.” You spoke fondly, feeling pampered.

“I’m gonna go shower, I’ll be in bed soon. Get some rest, I know those 30 seconds of running really took it out of you.” Without missing a beat, you threw a pillow at him, flipping him the bird as he turned, giggling as he walked to the shower.

Sleep took you easily after some scrolling and phone time; you eventually drifted off, the sound of Mingi showering fading into background noise.

When you were stirred from your sleep, Mingi had slipped into bed next to you, his chest pressed against your back as an arm slung over your shoulder, and pulled you into his body. He buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath and melting into the bed. You relaxed into him, drifting off to sleep once you were comfy again, the steadiness of his breathing lulling and calm. Nothing was weird. Everything was normal. You were just two really close friends. He was doing you a favor; he meant nothing behind it. Nothing was going to change.

♡

“My pretty girl,” he moaned into your mouth, tongue slipping past your lips and swallowing your sounds greedily. “My gorgeous gorgeous girl. I’m the only one who deserves you.” Your head was light, and your body was on fire. His hands were all over you, in your hair and wrapped around your torso, between your legs, and around your neck. His scent enveloped you, and your stomach ached.

“Gonna have you crying for me, baby. Show you what you’ve been missing all these years.” He was all over you, barely letting you breathe. It's not like you needed to; you were perfectly content where you were, tangled with him in the sheets. The world is far away. Just you and him.

“Mingi…” you whined, your voice far away from you, your own hands balled in a fist against his shirt as he claimed you like you were rightfully his.

“What did you say?”

Your eyes shot open, sweat clung to your body, and your head throbbed. Your breathing came fast as you realized you were dreaming. The room was dark, and the sloshing of waves was heard outside the window as the boat continued on its journey.

Groggily, you moved to sit up, but an arm pulled you down by your shoulder, shoving you onto your back into the mattress. Mingi sat up, leaning his head over to try and look at you in the darkness. “What did you say?” He said again, one hand holding down your shoulder while the other pressed against the headboard, effectively caging you in.

You were bewildered. You were having a wet dream about your best friend right next to him. Humiliating.

When you didn’t respond, Mingi’s voice lowered, his grip on you softening as he leaned his head down to whisper in your ear. “You said my name.” Not a question. A fact. You were moaning his name in your sleep. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

The room was silent, and the air was stagnant. His voice was thick with sleep, and right now, you were so glad it was so dark he couldn’t see your face.

“Nu uh.” You squeaked, mentally punching yourself. That was the best you could think of. Jesus Christ.

“Yuh huh.” He replied, feeling a hand, large and warm, rest against your stomach, he gently massaged the area, in an attempt to soothe you. But it, in fact, was doing the opposite.

“Min, I’m not doing this right now.” You sat up, moving away from his touch, swinging your legs over to dangle off the side of the bed.

“You started it!” He made no move to stop you. “Literally, I was sleeping and all I hear is 'oh Mingi-”

“STOP.” You cover your ears. “Lalalalala I can’t hear you!” You went to stand on your feet, but his hand gripped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You stayed, his grip hot against your skin as he kept you there in the dark.

“Wait. (Name.)” Mingi’s voice was low, careful. Testing. “Don’t go. Where are you going?” You bit your bottom lip; that pout in his voice was always enough to keep you in place. You were so hot. Sweaty and turned on, and his voice was only making it worse.

“Don’t talk.” You clipped, voice shaky. Mingi dragged you by your wrist back to the bed, pulling you on top of his body. His back was propped against the headboard, sitting up. He pulled you onto his lip, both legs straddling his thighs. Both hands circled your waist, keeping your body upright on his lap.

“Why not?” He mumbled, his thumbs massaging your sides. “I know you like hearing me talk.”

“That's the issue.” You said back, no longer trying to get away from him. “The last thing I need from you right now is your stupid voice.”

He ignored you. “Were you dreaming about me?” Mingi squeezed your waist, smiling at the hitch in your breath when you felt it. You didn’t respond, burying your face in your hands. Mingi wasn’t having it.

“Talk to me.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips against that mark he left on your neck, softly dragging them across the skin. You whimpered, and Mingi seemed to like it.

It took you a second to notice the tent in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh where you sat on him. When you finally noticed, you groaned.

“Mingi..”

“Yes?” he whispered into the crook of your neck.

“What are we doing?” You waited, silence enveloped again, then his hand slipped behind your back, pushing it against you and causing you to fall forward against his chest, your forehead on his shoulder, and his lips tickling your ear.

“What do you want us to do?” He spoke, voice barely even a whisper, so quiet it almost felt like he was talking to himself. He smelled spicy, woody. Clean and sexy, like Mingi. “Be honest,” a command almost. It didn’t sound like he wanted any more beating around the bush.

You shrugged, trying your best to keep it together, play it off. “I don’t know... you've been a little more attractive lately."

Mingi laughed breathily against your ear, a hand circling around the back of your neck, bringing your head back so you were looking at him, your noses brushing in the darkness, Your breaths mingled and your heart had never raced so fast. You bet if you could see him clearly you’d have a heart attack.

“Have I?” He kissed the tip of your nose. “Are my charms finally working on you?” A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hand drag up your thigh, hooking at your hip and pressing you down onto his lap, every so slightly grinding your body onto his. A low groan slipped from his lips, baritone and heavy. You were dizzy. So dizzy.

“Finally?” you whisper, your hand clammy and your underwear feeling unusually sticky.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea,” Mingi mumbled against your cheek, his breathing hot and heavy against your skin. “If you knew the things I’ve imagined about you, I have a feeling you might lose some respect for me.” Challenge accepted.

“Like what?” you asked, genuine curiosity in your tone, but also laced with a fear of what he might say.

“For starters, I would have loved to lay you out on that beach chair in front of your ex and eat your pussy until you were shaking. Show him how he could never lay his hands on you again. Or how, when you have me over for dinner, how badly I want to bend you over the kitchen island and fuck you stupid, till you drool all over yourself and I ruin you for anyone else. My personal favorite trapping you in my arms, looking all pretty in my bed sheets and driving my cock into you so deep you feel it in your throat-”

“Mingi I swear to fucking god I’ll kill you.”

“I warned you!” He exclaimed, pinching your thigh gently. “Can’t get mad at me, plus I know like hearing it.” He kissed your ear, nipping at the shell. “I know you too well.”

You couldn't hold back the whimper, and Mingi inhaled sharply. “God, your voice is so pretty.” His lips brushed against yours, featherlight. Not kissing you yet. He was waiting for your permission. 

“You have to let me know I can (Name.) I don’t wanna fuck this up.” His brows furrowed, and his eyes screwed shut, his hands twitching against your body like he was restraining himself. “Please.”

“Fuck Mingi, I was trying to get you to be a man and just take it but if you wanna be such a-” he gave you no time to finish, his pillowy lips pressing against yours, groaning like he just relieved the most immeasurable pain he’d ever felt.

He kissed you slowly, taking his time with you. His hands were firm and roaming along your body, like he was trying to map out every inch of you. Your skin tingled and you carded your fingers through his hair, gripping the locks at the scalp and tugging him closer to you.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he rocked his hips into you, laughing when he felt you moan into him, the most delicious sounds he’s ever heard from you.

“Oh, you taste amazing.” His kisses started to become sloppy, sensual, and all-consuming, like he was trying to eat you alive. You moaned, the tension in your shoulders melting as you finally got what you had been craving. “Need you to ride my thigh, (Name) Fuck, please need it now.”

You didn’t hesitate, adjusting your legs to straddle his left thigh. You braced your hands on his chest, dipping your head to bury your nose into the crook of his neck. His hands held your hips tightly, guiding them.

“Nice and slow, grind for me.” And you obeyed. “Back and forth…” You rolled your hips experimentally, his thigh flexing the muscle right where your clothed clit dragged against it. The fabric of his shorts rode up, exposing the soft skin. The pleasure shot up your spine like a bullet, lolling your head back as you finally let yourself indulge in your best friend.

Mingi landed a playful smack on your ass, smiling when your hips stuttered and your moans hitched.

“C’mon, I know you can do better than that.” You glared at him in the darkness, sinking your teeth into his earlobe.

“If I’m not doing good enough for you then do something about it.” You bit back, rolling your hips particularly hard, purposefully letting your hand graze against the hard on in his shorts. His hips bucked against your touch, a low growl escaping him and causing your cunt to clench hard.

Mingi tugged at the waistband of your shorts. “Lift your hips, let me get these off of you.” You braced your hands on his shoulders and lifted yourself off of him, Mingi peeled your shorts down your thighs and off your legs, throwing them on the floor. His hand pressed against the center of your panties, eyes rolling when he felt the soaked spot.

“Oh, did I make you this wet, baby?” His fingers pulled your panties to the side, letting his fingers drag through your slick folds, slowly, deliberately, and teasingly. He pressed his fingertips against your clit like he was pushing a button, your back arching and your whines hitting his ear. You were so sensitive, you had never been this sensitive. Goes to show how years of teasing and built-up tension, when it finally snaps, just how hot you’d feel.

“How long have you wanted this? Tell me while I fuck you with my fingers.” He gave you a pointed look, your vision finally adjusting in the darkness. 

“Do you hear me?” He moaned against your skin, letting a finger slide inside of you, slow and languid. 

“Yes, Mingi, fuck, I hear you.” Your hands grasped his hair and tugged to ground yourself, the grumble he let out making you clench around his finger as he slid it deeper, the pad of his finger pressing against that spot deep inside of you that made your breathing halt.

“Good girl, talk to me.” Mingi swallows your moans with another kiss, slowly coaxing his finger inside, slipping a second one in once he’s worked you open a little.

“Love it when you touch me, when you tease me..” you cried into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip and rolling your hips into his hand.

“Yeah?” he breathed out, curling his fingers just right, pressing the heel of his palm against your clit. “I always knew you loved it. You like to act all annoyed, but I know that every time I talk to you in that way, you like you soak your panties for me.” He lifted your shirt over your breasts, immediately dipping his head and taking a nipple in his mouth, his groans vibrating through your body as his tongue flicked against them like he was eating candy.

“Isn’t that right pretty girl?” It was so hard to think with Mingi’s fingers curling inside of you, your brain was foggy and you couldn’t breathe. You could only manage a nod, tears prickling in your eyes as you felt the pressure in your tummy build as he took what he wanted from you.

He sunk his teeth into the swell of your breast, tongue lolling out to soothe the bite after. “Good, arch that back.”

Years of dancing around each other. The lingering touches and the heated looks, all brushed off for the sake of being best friends, thrown out the window. You wouldn’t have any other way.

“Listen to my voice, and focus on yourself baby.” Mingi opted for slow and pressurized drags of his thick fingers, your voice caught in your throat as you felt your self start to topple over that edge, Mingi perfectly guiding you through it at just the right pace.

“That's it, fucking take it. God, I can’t wait to fuck you, been wanting to have you to myself for so long…” He pressed his lips against yours, growling down your throat. “Cum on my fingers, baby, please. Let me have it, fucking give it to me.”

He never pulled away from your lips, swallowing every noise you made as your body spasmed and a wave of pleasure so intense it knocked you against your skull, it made you breathless.

“Yes ma’am, fuck… I’m gonna snap you in half. ‘M gonna make you feel so good.” Mingi lets you ride it out on him, his fingers continuing to drag inside of you, your slick dripping down his wrist and onto the bed.

When you finally could breathe again, Mingi gave you no time, flipping you over, your back hitting the mattress. He stood up by the edge of the bed, ripping his tanktop off and discarding his pants. He nodded his head towards you, clicking his tongue.

“Off, all of it.” He groaned. “Wanna see all of you.” You ripped off your shirt and slid your panties off your legs, letting them fall on the floor as you watched Mingi strip in front of you in turn. He climbed on top of your body slotting between your legs, crashing his lips with yours, hands everywhere all over you. 

His cock, unbelievably hot and hard, dragged through your soaked folds. His hands ghosted down the inside of your arm, tickling slightly until his fingers flexed and wrapped around your wrist. He brought it to his mouth, kissing the pulse point of your wrist, dragging it up and locking both your wrists together with his grasp, tight and grounding above your head, restraining you.

Your body squirmed underneath him, he brought his head down, pressing a kiss right above your belly button. He locked eyes with you, his tongue falling from his mouth as he licked oh so slowly up your body, up your stomach between your breasts, his lips landing on the side of your neck without the hickey.

“Might as well give my girl another one right?” He blew a gust of air on the nape of your neck, continuing to slide his cock through your folds, moaning at the heat radiating from you. “Let everyone know that you’re off the market.”

He closed his lips over your throat, biting, licking and sucking sloppily. Your hips twitched against him as you tried to get him to slip inside, but Mingi wanted to take his time.

“Patience…” he pulled off your neck with a slick pop, kissing your collarbones and squeezing your wrist in warning, daring you to try and rush it again. “Let me have my fun with you baby.”

You know better. He loves to tease and play. But you could tell that he was holding himself back, you just needed to press his buttons right.

You twisted your hands in his grasp, ripping your hand free. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging his head down to yours, kissing him hard and deep. He kept you and you could feel his fingers still holding your other wrist twitch.

“Mingi.” You groaned against his lips, your eyes boring into his, pupils blown and cheeks flushed. He looked unbelievable. “Fuck me right now, or so help me god.”

He bit his bottom lip, hips stuttering. “Fine.” His hands slid down to grab the backs of your thigh, pulling them up and lifting your legs a little higher. He sat up on his knees, glaring down at you with a dangerous look in his eyes. Fuck he was so big. Towering over your body on the bed, broad shoulders and bugling muscles. His chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths as you felt the tip of him press against your entrance.

“Don’t whine when it's too much.” Slowly, Mingi pressed himself in, the stretch burning perfectly. “Take it like a big girl, (Name.)” And you did.

Poised tall above you, the grip on your hips borderline bruising as he slid inside of you. Your eyes rolled and your thighs twitched as he took his time thrusting himself into you. Deep and heavy, finally claiming what was rightful to him.

“Yeah..” he groaned, feeling your walls pulse around him as he sat still snug in your cunt. “What a good fucking girl.” Then he pulled his hips back, slipping out of you until just the tip sat inside.

Mean, calculated, and rough, he slammed his hips against you, knocking the breath from your lungs, his tip dragging against that spot inside of you so perfectly. You let out a guttural groan, feeling so full of him. 

“Don’t move,” He bit, driving his cock in and out in and out. Fucking you so deep your vision was spotting. “Lie back and take what I give you, baby. I’ve got you.”

He kept his grip on your hips rough, pinning you down to the bed so you couldn’t move. Fucking you like you might run from him, like he couldn’t afford losing this night to you. He’d wreck you, ruin you. Use you in a way only lovers can use each other. You were so pretty under him, body twitching and face twisted in pleasure as he fucked you hard into the sheets. He grabbed your thigh and hiked your leg up and over his shoulder. The new angle was punishing, driving himself impossibly deeper into your cunt, you could feel every vein, and tears pricked at your eyes, and the sheer bruising pace he was setting against your g-spot. Relentless and unforgiving. Like he was making you suffer for having him wait so long to have you.

One hand left your hip, dragging up your body, caressing your throat, massaging your jaw. His fingers flexed around your neck, pressing the pads of his fingers against the sides. Your visions spotted again and your cunt clenched around him hard, a heavy breathy moan slipping past your lips.

“Oh my god… fuck Min, you’re so good.” You rolled your hips a few times to match his ruthless pace, fucking you better than you’ve been fucked before, and Mingi new it. His ego was thriving and he had never been happier so deep in your cunt. He rolled his hips, gyrating them a few times so you could really feel every inch of him.

“You’re so warm, sweetheart, fuck… always knew you’d be perfect. Always knew you’d come around…” The confidence in his voice was brain-numbing. He really had been plotting on you. The bastard.

He grabbed your other leg, pressing them together and wrapping his arms around them both, locking them in front of his torso. He slowed his pace, dragging his cock in and out so slow and so deep, really taking his time exploring you.

Your voice was raw and you felt like you could feel him in your ribcage. 

Snap. He bullied his dick into you, hard this time. Your back arched, and your legs twitched in his hold. “Too much!” You whined out. “I can’t Min-”

“Not too much.” he hissed, fucking you with no mercy, his hands squeezing your calves and running up and down your legs. “You can, and you fucking will.”

“Tell me you want it. Tell me you need it. C’mon baby. Let me know.” Your hands gripped the pillows under your head. Mingi had full control. Using your legs to hold him to you as he fucked you, like it hurt him not to. It was mind-numbing, and you didn’t want it to end. But that inevitable pressure was building in your lower stomach again.

“I want you…” you whined, voice shaking and raw. “I need you Mingi. Please.. Fuck don’t stop!”

His thrusts increased in strength, harsher and mean as he fucked you with abandon. “Are you mine? Say you’re mine…” he whined between thrusts, his hips sloppy and rough. His voice dropped to that sensual baritone whisper that made your pussy clench and your eyes roll. “Fuck me… please say you’re mine. Say you belong to me…”

“I’m yours Mingi! I’ve always been yours…” you cry out. Mingi spread your legs and laid them back on the bed, dropping his torso down to press against yours and swallow your cries in a deep, soul crushing kiss.

His hand cupped your jaw and the other snaked down to draw close knit circles against your clit. “Fuck yes. You’re mine. This pussy’s mine. All mine.” Your breath staggered, and your eyes screwed shut, focusing on his touches and his mouth on yours. You were so fucking close.

He pressed his forehead against yours, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and eyes half lidded as he focused on you. “Gonna cum again baby?”

You nod frantically, your noises quiet now, Ming’s rough thrusts leaving no room for you to moan, just heavy breaths and staggered whimpers. It felt like heaven.

“I love making it good for you.” He whispered against your lips. “Love making you feel amazing. The number of times I lay in my bed fucking my fist, imagining this exact moment. You have no idea, baby, no fucking clue. Cum hard for me, give it to me, sweetheart.”

And you did. Your body convulsed and your mouth fell open against his. Your mind flashed white with a broken cry of his name as you came.

“Fuuuckk yeah baby.” Mingi groaned. He smiled, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “So gorgeous when you cum. Could watch you do that all damn day.”

His hips stuttered as he began to lose the rhythm, his own release crawling up his spine. “Gonna fuck my cum into you honey.”  You were limp, overstimulated, drooling onto the sheets as he used your body, fogbrained and stupid.

“Just let me use you, almost there I promise.” He rolled his hips a few more times, his voice breaking between moans and huffs. He stilled, one final, deep thrust, spilling himself inside of you. He rocked into you, fucking his spent inside of you, your body shivering from the sensitivity.

“Holy s-shit…” Mingi caressed your hips as he slowly rolled into you, fucking you both through the aftershock.  

He stayed still for a moment, you both taking time to catch your breath and come back down to earth. Slowly, he pulled himself out of you, wincing from the pressure and the way you clenched as he moved. Slick, he slipped himself out, taking a deep breath as the cold air of the room enveloped him.

He shivered and laid on his stomach between your legs, his head between your thighs.

“Lemme clean this up…” His tongue lolled out of his mouth, licking up between your thighs, kissing around your swollen cunt, cleaning the stickiness between your legs. You sighed, your hands coming down to massage his scalp, nails scraping against the skin beneath his soft head of hair.

He stayed there for a while, kissing between your thighs and relaxing in each other’s presence. 

“Mingi I’m tired.” You croaked, voice strained from all the moaning. Mingi lifted himself from between your legs, moving up to press light kisses all over your face.

“I’d never trade you for the world.” Soft, loving and unprovoked. He just loved you that much. And now he finally had all of you, he’d never let you go.

You reciprocated with gentle kisses along his eyebrows, smiling against his flushed skin. “I hope we’ll be making the most out of the next few days I didn’t pay 600 per ticket for nothing. We’re putting this lovers package to use until its run dry.”

Mingi laughs, his hands caressing your waist and rubbing circles just below your breasts. “Way ahead of you.” He stood, taking your hand in his, having you sit up on the bed.

“Shower with me?” Mingi asked, squeezing your hand gently.

“Of course is that even a question?” You followed him to the bathroom, legs slightly shaky, but he stayed by your side keeping you upright. You glared at him considering he made you forget how to use your legs, he only shrugged smiling sheepishly.

After a warm, lathering shower, you both snuggled under the sheets, holding each ither close as the ship rocked and the waves whispered outside.

Lying behind you, Mingi moved your hair to the side, looking at the marks on your neck, smiling proudly to himself.

“I want you to wear that orange bathing suit I got you tomorrow. It’ll pair nice with these marks and I’m sure it’ll get a rise out of that asshat.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such an instigator Min.” You laughed, Mingi pressing a kiss to the marks.

“What?” he whispered in your ear. “Am I not allowed to be proud of my work?” 

“Go to sleep.” you mumbled, your eyes feeling heavy.

“I dont wanna.” he whined, pressing his nose to your hair inhaling deeply and taking in your scent. “Mmm, you smell so good...”

“Mingi.” you snapped.

“Yes ma’am.” He pulled you closer, resting his head on your shoulder and closing his eyes. Last thing he needed was pisisng you off and you hitting him.

“Goodnight (Name.).” he kissed your temple, 

You smiled to yourself; you really had him around your finger. You kissed his arm, letting sleep take over you. “Goodnight Min.” Silence, for a moment. Peace.

“Can’t wait to rub it in that asshole’s face tomorrow-”

“Mingi, I swear to God I will kill you.”

Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this one, hope you like it!

[maho6any]

Tidal Waves

Best Friend!Song Mingi x F!Reader

summary: When you and your ex-boyfriend were still dating, you both booked a cruise trip with the intention of going together to have a romantic week on the water. Well, things didn't go as planned, and the tickets are non-refundable. So naturally, you ask your best friend to come with you in his place! Nothing could possibly go wrong!

warnings: best friends to lovers, cruise trip, tension, curly headed reader implied (3c girls rise), jealousy, mingi is very touchy, you two are very close, attempt at humor, teasing, fake dating(briefly but WHO CHEERED), shitty ex, pet names (baby, sweetheart etc.), thigh riding, unprotected sex(BOOOOO), soft mdom, size kink, choking, fingering, mingi is obsessed with you, NOT PROOFREAD

wc: 11.1k

notes: This is kind of based on that one New Girl episode LMAO. I love that show so much.

(Also in your fantasy released and holy fuck its so good aoty for sure jesus christ I keep relistening to the whole album.)

tracklist: 20cm, everybody here wants you, virginia girls

When the email hit your inbox, you wanted to rip out your hair strand by strand. You had let it completely slip your mind. Granted, you booked it a year in advance, and life has surely swept you up in the waves recently, and it never crossed your mind with all that you had going on.

Non-refundable. The cruise was in a week, and the tickets were non-refundable. The last thing you wanted to do was call your ex and ask if he still wanted to go, which was not an option, regardless of whether he actually wanted to or not. You’d rather jump off the ship than be anywhere near him.

So your next best option was to ask a friend to go in his place. And the first name that came to mind?

Song Mingi.

You pulled out your phone and shot him a text asking him to come over, and that was that. Reaching out to Mingi was more natural than breathing. At this point, you two shared breaths, surviving through high school together and now hanging on by a thread in college, you both knew you had each other.

His easy-going, teasing nature perfectly balanced out the worrywart in you. He always assured and validated your thoughts and feelings. He made sure you knew that everything that you thought and felt meant something, a trait your most recent ex lacked incredibly. You knew you could actually enjoy the cruise if Mingi came along.

Minutes later, Mingi waltzed in your door, having a copy of a key to your apartment attached to his key ring. At this point, he basically lived in your apartment, constantly crashing and walking in like he owned the place, especially when he was uninvited.

“Daddy’s home,” he called out, shutting the door behind him and hitting his fist against his chest like a triumphant gorilla.

You grimaced and threw the nearest pillow directly at his face as soon as he was in view.

“Ew. Daddy needs to go out for cigarettes and never come back.” Mingi walked behind the couch, leaning over the back and gently squeezing your shoulders.

“Tough crowd.” He mused, in his usual black tank top and grey sweats, as he plopped down next to you. His big hands took your ankles in his hands and swung your legs up to let them rest on his thighs. Domestic. Comforting. The norm with Mingi. Taking off his glasses and setting them on the coffee table, he massaged absent-minded circles into your calves, soothing the bit of tension you had been building there from constantly being on your feet at work.

“However, you invited me over, love, so I’m not going anywhere. Enlighten me, I’m sure it's important considering you gave me zero information and just a frantic text.” You rolled your eyes and then furrowed your brow in frustration. The laptop in your lap was hot on your thighs, so you turned it around to face the screen towards him.

“Well shit, hold on.” He grabbed his glasses and put them on again, making a show of squinting his eyes and leaning forward to read the email you had pulled up.

He glanced back up at you, then back at the email. He shrugged. “I dunno’, looks kinda scammish to me.” He smiled as you shut the laptop in his face, putting it on the table.

“I love when you use that big beautiful brain of yours,” you deadpanned, poking his forehead gently. Mingi smiled stupidly, with faux sheepishness at your sarcastic comment, gently pinching your calf teasingly. You sighed and took a second before explaining to him.

“My, well… my ex and I-”

Before you could go on, Mingi stood from his seat, with speed that nearly scared you out of your skin. He threw his hands up and paced around the coffee table, shaking his head like he was in agony and making a quite real gagging sound.

He had always been one for dramatics, and this time was clearly no different. You kept your mouth shut and let him put on his little act.

“That prick!” he placed his hands on his head like he had a migraine, gagging again. “If ever see him I'll-” cartoonishly he balled his hands into fists and rotated them in a fighting position like he was about to roundhouse the air. “I swear I'll give it to him… I’ll let him have it!” 

He never liked your boyfriend. At first, you pegged it for jealousy that someone else was taking up your attention, but Mingi insisted he got a “bad vibe” from the start. Every time you complained about him, Mingi always agreed with every negative thing you said, always making sure you didn’t feel crazy about how your boyfriend was acting. It started with small things that simply rubbed you the wrong way at the beginning. Mingi always egged you on with your concerns.

“Why the hell would he open a door for another girl in front of you? Is he dense?”

“Seriously, who hangs up on their girlfriend just to play video games. I’m starting to think he was dropped on his head.”

The comments were always lighthearted, teasing. Like he was annoyed with his actions, but not quite hating him. And then he got worse. And Mingi started opening your eyes to it.

“(Name,) it's not normal to have 4 different contacts in your phone all named 'Pizza Hut.'”

And Mingi was the one who eventually brought you to your senses. You called your boyfriend, called him out, and of course, he got mad when he found out it was Mingi who was encouraging your skepticism and called you some not-so-nice names, accusing you of sleeping with your best friend. You broke up with him, and Mingi was there to babysit you through the breakup. No matter if your ex was a douchebag, it was a 2-year-long relationship, and there will always be wounds to heal.

He punched the air a few times before calmly retaking his seat, directing his full attention to you.

“Are you done?” you asked after letting him have his moment.

“Yes, please continue.” He nodded, hands on your knees as he shook them back and forth softly, urging you to continue.

“Anyway, while we were still together, we bought cruise tickets. Two. Because we thought we could go together. Y’know little romantic outing. Well, obviously, asshole and I are no longer fraternizing and the tickets are nonrefundable, so I wanted you to-” 

Here he goes again. He stands up, hands in the air, as he nods triumphantly and looks about the living room like he is admiring a crowd erupting with applause. He bowed. “Thank you, thank you! You are too kind!” He claps a few times, wiping imaginary tears. You reached up and grabbed his forearm, dragging him back to the couch.

“Sit down! And let me speak.” Mingi shut up immediately and folded his hands in his lap neatly.

 “Yes, ma'am.” 

“So I’m taking that as a yes. The cruise is in a week, and it's all paid for. Please pack more clothes than you did for the Europe trip. I do not want to see you wearing the same stupid pair of khaki shorts the whole time we’re stuck in the middle of the ocean for a week.”

“You know I look sexy in those shorts.” Mingi pats his rather thick thighs, head raised high, while he waits for your praises. You stood up and ignored him, walking to the kitchen to grab some water. You wouldn’t admit to him that, frankly, he looks good in everything he wears, cause then you’d never hear the end of it.

Mingi scoffed as you walked away. “I fear I’m being deprived of the attention I deserve.” 

“Do you really deserve it?” You called from the kitchen. Mingi followed you into the room, resting his arms on the kitchen island and playing with the bowl of oranges sitting in the middle of the countertop.

“You have the blessed privilege of being my friend, so I’d say you’re getting way more than you bargained for.” he picked up a couple of oranges and attempted to juggle them, failing pathetically as they slipped out of his grasp and fell on the counter, rolling onto the floor.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled into your glass as you tipped it to take a sip. “I’d say I am, too.” When you set down the glass, you shot him a pointed look when he bent down to pick up the rolling fruits, and flicked a little water at him.

“And aren’t I the one taking you on a cruise? If anything, you should be on your knees thanking me for a free vacation.” And you knew you shouldn't have said it as soon as the words left your mouth, because here he comes, walking over to you and sinking down onto his knees. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs, and he presses his forehead to your lower stomach, that stupid puppy-eyed look in his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, thank you so much for the free vacation. I am beyond honoured. How could I ever repay you?” Earlier on in your friendship, this probably would have sent your brain into overdrive, having such an attractive man on his knees for you. But this is Mingi. It's an act; he puts on shows just for you, because he knows that one day he could possibly catch you on a weak day and actually push some buttons. Now you just wanted to kick him. He loved getting under your skin and finding new ways to make you squirm. Not even in a perverted way, that was just simply his nature.

Playful, headache-inducing, too sexy for his own good, Song Mingi. 

And like every single time, you can’t help but play along.”You can repay me by getting off your knees and driving to pick us up some dinner.”

He squeezes your thighs, spreading his fingers wider and letting them sink into the plush flesh, clearly not making a move to stand. “C’mon, you don’t like me down here?” he spoke against your belly button, always so comfortable touching you, the gestures never giving you those stomach-twisting butterflies anymore. 

You shrug. “I don’t know you’re not really doing anything. You’re just groveling.” Mingi smiles, and he does that stupid thing with his voice that you unfortunately haven’t built an immunity to after all these years.

His eyelids lower, and he drops his voice to a murmur, the baritone of his voice rumbling through your body like a shockwave. “Would you like me to do something? Give me a command, I’m at your service.”

Fuck, you hate when he does that, he knows that. Cheeky prick.

You cough, bringing a hand down and pressing a palm against the top of his head, nudging him away from your abdomen. “I’d like for you to get up and feed me, Min.” You managed to keep your voice steady, pretending to have no interest in his antics, picking up your glass again and taking another sip.

A few beats of silence, his gaze lingering as he cranes his neck to watch you drink, your hand still on his head.

Finally, he complies, and your racing heart slows. He stands, rolling his eyes. He walks to the living room, grabbing his keys and his glasses. “Yes, ma’am. Olive Garden?” he says matter of factly, knowing what your answer would be, hand already on the door handle.

“You know it. Extra Andes mints, please,” you chide, but you knew you didn’t have to tell him. He already knew.

“On it,” he calls, halfway out the door already. “Love ya, bye.” The door shutting cut him off, and once you heard his car start and pull out of the lot, you let yourself have your moment. You brought a hand to your chest and the other splayed on your stomach, still feeling the lingering heat of his touch.

Too intense. Yes, he had always been this way, but since you and your boyfriend broke up, he seemed to be getting bolder. You guess you could understand. There's no other man around, which means he no longer has to honor the “bro code,” so now he can really show you how much he cares for you, and it's always been touch.

Holding hands, lingering caresses against the nape of your neck, fingers buried in your hair soothingly massaging the scalp, he just liked to touch you and to hold you. It's like it grounded him, it let him know you were really here. And you welcomed it with open arms, because he’s your best friend. And you’d do anything for him, and vice versa. He had ways of tearing down your walls, but could still help you build them back up when you needed them. He was your other half, and frankly, you couldn't really say your ex was ridiculous for thinking what he did about Mingi.

But none of that matters. Your ex is gone, and you can enjoy this cruise with your closest friend without having to worry about your boyfriend looking at other bikini-clad bodies and admitting to you that "your head has been getting rather sloppy" after he’s had a couple of♡ mimosas.

What a fucking dick.

♡

“No,” you bite, hand half covering your eyes.

“What? You’re just a hater.” Mingi pouts, posing proudly, the sea winds whipping his hair around his face, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Mingi, you literally cannot wear that on the boat, I'm so serious.” You look away, trying to make it seem like you didn’t know him. “Change, please. I know you have another shirt.”

“What's wrong with it?!” He gripped the hem of the shirt with his fingertips, spreading it out and looking down at it.

“People are going to think you’re a fucking swinger dude. Pineapples? On a cruise? Are you sure this isn’t your first day on earth?” You turn around and look up at the open blue sky, trying to ignore the pointed stares of people passing by to board the boat.

“I don't get the big deal with the pineapples. Like, why specifically pineapples? Why not oranges? I feel like I might look a little less appealing in oranges…”

“Mingi, who cares what fruit you look good in!”

“I do…” he pouted.

“Just change your shirt, dude, please. I don’t need swingers trying to take you below deck…” You frowned at him, and he looked you over, huffing dramatically. He could never say no to you. Especially when you said please.

“Fine, fine, I’ll change.” You turn to look at him again, and this time he is shirtless, rummaging through the beach bag on his shoulder. The sun caught his skin perfectly, the shadowed dips and ridges in his abdomen highlighted, and his arms flexed each time he grabbed something in the bag as he rummaged. His navy blue swim trunks hung low on his hips, leaving little to the imagination as the very visible V line dipped behind the waistband and disappeared.

“And yeah sure, just go ahead and strip naked while you’re at it.” You threw up a hand in defeat; you could never truly win. Mingi smirked, grabbed a different shirt, and stood straight to look at you again. 

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he wiggled his eyebrows. You groaned in response, lowering your voice as he slipped the gray swim shirt on.

“I wouldn’t, but I think all the other women boarding the cruise would be quite partial to a show with the way they’re all gawking right now.” And lo and behold, a group of like 10 girls alone walked past you two, giggling and tripping over themselves at the sight of your shirtless friend. 

Mingi paid them no mind, not even bothering to glance their way, his gaze solely focused on you. “Jealous?” he quipped, slinging the bag over his back and cocking his head toward the ship. “C’mon, before they leave us.”

“They’re not gonna leave us.” You sighed, following behind as he walked away.

“Um, uh huh. They’re not gonna wait for your slow ass because you want to sightsee.”

“I am never late,” you bite back, pressing your foot to the back of his knee in a failed attempt to fold him like a lawn chair. “It's always you, don’t try to pass your title on to me. Remember that time we were supposed to be at a study group and you didn’t show up until after the entire session was over?”

Mingi laughed, waving his hand dismissively. “That's different because that was intentional. I didn’t feel like sitting in a library cubicle for 3 hours while our appointed “group leader” wrote barely legible points on a whiteboard. Boring!!! I’d rather be jerking o-”

That deserved a smack to the back of the head, which you administered before he could finish his sentence. “And that's enough out of you. We’re not even on the fucking boat yet.” He winced, rubbing the back of his head.

“I didn’t even hit you that hard, you baby.” You stood in line beside him on the ramp that entered the ship. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t hit me at all,” Mingi sneered, reaching a hand out and tugging a lock of your hair.

When you entered the cruise ship and made it to the atrium, you didn’t realize just how grand it was actually going to be. The tallest ceilings imaginable, winding staircases every which way, endless balconies, and chandeliers that looked big enough to live in. It was beautiful in every way.

With your keys in hand, you both took the elevator to get to your shared cabin, and it wasn’t until you were in front of the door that you realized that you had booked a lovers' suite. You pressed the keycard against the door and pushed the door open. Well shit.

Dark, shiny wooden floors, a large window opening up to the vast blue ocean. A recliner, a small couch, and a quite large circular-shaped bed. Elegant. Large. Intimate. White canopies hung around the bed frame, and the furniture was all dark and quite comfy-looking. You had no issue sharing a bed with Mingi, but the fact that it was obviously a lover’s suite, it did feel a little… different.

Like a kid in a candy store, Mingi rushed into the room and immediately threw himself onto the bed, wrinkling the sheets and letting his face sink into the plush comforter. 

“Oh yeah,” he spoke, voice incredibly muffled with his face in the mattress. “I’m never leaving.” You set your bags down and walked around, taking in the room. It was spacious, plenty of room to move around, but it still somehow felt so stuffed.

“We’ll have to head to the deck soon. The captain will probably have a few words, and then we can go explore the ship.” Mingi sprang from the bed, whipping to face you.

“Well, why are we sitting here fucking around?  Let's go!” He grabbed your hand and dragged you from the room, heading back up to the deck.

♡

You had been on the ship for 2 days. By this time, you had thoroughly explored the ship with Mingi and tried only half of the drinks they had available at the bars. And you’d think you’d learn after 2 crazy hangovers that maybe you should give the drinking a rest, but there was always something new to try. It was like the ship was endless, a whole new world,

You were far out into the ocean by now, sailing leisurely. You often found yourself sunbathing on the main deck, splayed out on a beach chair, and soaking in the sun. Mingi would either be lying next to you or in the on-deck pool playing catch with the other vacationers.

It was interesting watching him get used to the new space; it took some breaking in for both of you to realize that the chance of the ship suddenly sinking was low. Spending hours in the cabin trying not to panic at the thought. Mingi assured you, and in turn, you assured him.

It was going so well, you needed this vacation, and the only issue you had was that eventually you would have to go back home. Well, it was the only issue.

You sat up in your chair to see where Mingi was. He was at the edge of the pool in front of your chair, arms resting on the deck as he lay his head on his arms, looking at you. The sunglasses on his face blocked his eyes, but you could easily feel his gaze on you.

“Can I help you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction. Mingi didn’t say anything for a second before bracing his palms on the deck and pushing himself out of the pool. Honestly fuck him. 

The water dripped off his toned body as he lifted out of the pool, his hair and trunks soaked and his skin sun-kissed from the days in the sun already.

He walked over to your chair, and you had to pretend like looking at him all tan and wet wasn’t making you think of things you definitely shouldn’t have been.

He reached his hand up, running hands through his damp hair, pouting while he concentrated. He always pouted when he was fixing his hair. He had little quirks and traits you noticed about him just being around him all the time. Whenever he took pictures or videos of himself, he was always watching himself so intently, monitoring every move. You had called him self-obsessed, and of course, he didn’t deny it.

“Why shouldn’t I? I look good, who wouldn’t wanna look at me?” When he laughed, he’d fall over himself, unable to keep still as the giggles wracked his body.

And now here he was, dripping wet and towering over your chair, and women all around the deck were staring, their boyfriends desperate to steal their attention back from your best friend.

When he was done with his hair, he looked down at you, nodding as if in approval. “You always look so good in the sun.” He said it simply, like it was just a normal thing to say. You guessed it was, but when you were both half-naked and sweating from the heat of the sun, it had different connotations. You took a long sip of your tequila sunrise, locking eyes with Mingi as he watched you.

Your hair had gotten a bit frizzy after a couple of laps in the pool earlier, and tan lines were beginning to form around the straps of your bathing suit. The stretch marks littered around your thighs are more visible, and the sheen of your skin makes it seem like you were glowing. You both didn’t move for a moment, and time was still. You picked the slice of orange out of your drink, slipping it into your mouth and chewing on it.

“Is it good?” Mingi said, and you could have sworn his voice sounded slightly strained. Maybe it was the heat.

“Yeah, want some?” You reached out to hand him the glass, and you expected him to take the glass from you. Instead, his hand cupped around yours, leaning down and sipping from the glass while it was still in your hand. His palm, large and warm, pressed against your knuckles as he drank.

“Not all of it, asshole!” He laughed around the straw and pulled off, licking his lips and stealing the cherry from the glass, popping it into his mouth.

“Get your own if you’re gonna be greedy.” You pout, taking another sip from your drink. Mingi was about to retort when someone called out to you from the other side of the boat.

“(Name)! No way! Didn’t think I’d see you here!” Your spine pulled, and your eyes widened at the familiar voice. Mingi did the same, an annoyed grimace spreading across his face as he realized who was speaking.

Walking towards you two from the other side of the ship, your ex. In swim trunks with a beer in one hand and a blonde attached to his hip, he sauntered over, waving to you both.

“Mingi’s here too? Hah! What’d you do, give him my ticket?” He was all smiles and laughs, probably buzzed out of his mind. The girl next to him laughed with him. But it was like she was barely there. Like she was an attachment or an accessory.

Mingi turned to you and gestured for you to stand up. “Get up, c’mere.” You didn’t move for a second, eyes too busy watching the asshole make his way over.

“(Name.)” Mingi bent down to be eye level with you, cupping your jaw and directing your gaze at him. “Do you trust me?” he murmured.

“Of course.” No hesitation. That shouldn’t even be a question. Of course, you trusted him

“Okay. We are madly in love, got it? Stupid for each other. And… scene.” 

“What?”

Mingi gave you no time, pulling you to your feet and positioning himself behind you. He leaned over your body, his toned chest pressed to your bare back as his arms circled around and locked around your waist, hands resting on your abdomen. He rested his chin against your shoulder, pressing his lips into the crook of your neck. 

“Put on a show and make him jealous,” Mingi whispered against your skin, his breath tickling your neck and making you shiver. His fingertips traced light patterns below your belly button, domestic. When his plan clicked with you, you eased into him, melting against his body and relaxing, you smiled lazily, and Mingi pressed his lips to your ear.

“Showtime, baby.” When your ex finally stood in front of you, he made a face, like he was taken aback. Like usual, Mingi was clinging to you like a koala, but something was different.

“That's exactly what I did,” you snipped, but kept a smile on your face despite the annoyed tone in your voice. “Tickets were non-refundable, so I had Mingi come with me. It works anyway, we got the lovers package, so no losses for us. What, salty you had to buy new tickets?”

Your ex sneered, wrapping his arm around the girl tightly. “Well, I tried to contact you about the tickets, but you had me blocked, and I didn’t wanna come over with your human barnacle always over your shoulder.”

Mingi was littering kisses all along the sides of your neck, hands caressing your waist, and just holding you close to him. “Human boyfriend, actually,” Mingi said, lifting his head and looking him up and down, a clear look of disgust in his gaze as he took your ex in.

“She called me, talking about how she had a couple of tickets for this whole shebang, and she wanted me to come in your place. How could I not? Now I get to see her strutting around all day for a week in all these different bikinis I bought her…” To emphasize his point, he reached forward and adjusted the cup of your bikini top, just enough to push your breasts apart to have them sit perfectly. 

Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Before you both packed for the trip, you went bathing suit shopping with Mingi. He picked out so many for you, having you try them all on, hyping you up in every angle, one, and assuring you in the ones you felt you didn’t like yourself in. He bought you like 12, which you insisted was excessive, but he wanted you to wear every single one this summer.

Your ex pressed his lips into a thin line as his eyes drifted to where Mingi touched you. “C’mon, man, I leave and you jump on her immediately?” You could hear the jealousy lacing his words, your heart thumping in pride at how you were getting under his skin.

Mingi shrugs, your ex's jaw clenching slightly at his nonchalance. Mingi never took him seriously, and your ex always expressed how he felt like Mingi never actually saw him as a man. He felt small and weak around Mingi, and frankly, it was pretty laughable.

“Technically, I had her first, but you left, so I called dibs. What can I say, I'm not one to shy away from opportunities, dude.” And of course, Mingi just had to amp up the ante in ways that you weren't expecting.

One hand teasingly played with the strings of your bathing suit bottom, twirling it around his fingers, while his other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled it over your shoulder, exposing your neck to him more.

His eyes never left your exes, his gaze cold and taunting, as his lips latched onto your neck. His tongue darted out, licking a filthy stripe against you before sucking, and sucking hard. You winced, feeling his teeth nip at the spot a little, right above a vein in your throat, eyes half lidded and narrowed, he made sure your ex was watching the entire time. There was no way he’d wanna miss this.

Your ex ground his teeth as he watched Mingi suck a mark into your skin. He ripped his eyes away to look at the girl beside him, just to catch her staring at Mingi like he was the hottest thing she had ever seen, practically drooling on herself. You, however, felt like Mingi just might be crazy, because now you’re going to have a very clear bruise on your skin from his mouth. And fuck the fact that it was to rattle your ex. You were still stuck on this boat for 3 more days, and he was killing you.

Mingi pulled off with a loud pop, licking the spot he left to soothe it, before pressing a lingering kiss or two to your shoulder. Your ex laughed when his eyes landed on the forming bruise, taking a deep gulp of his beer, almost crushing the can with his grip.

“Clearly, we’re interrupting.” Your ex bit out, running a hand through his hair and giving Mingi a look that could kill.

“N-no, I think it's fine…” His girl mumbled out, seeming to be enjoying the show. Your ex rolled his eyes when he realized he genuinely had nobody on his side at the moment.

“Well, as always, it was nice seeing you (Name.) Mingi, not so much.” Mingi smirked, his eyebrows raising teasingly like he was asking, “What’d I do?”

“Enjoy your vacation, bitch.” your ex mumbled under his breath as he turned and walked away, back to his respective side of the boat, leaving his girl in his dust. She stood staring for a second before snapping out of it.

“I-it was nice meeting you!” She stumbled out before turning on her heel and following him. Once they were out of sight, you pulled yourself from Mingi’s grasp, turning around to look at him, bewilderment written all over your face.

“Song Mingi.” You whisper shouted, reaching a hand up to touch the tender spot on your neck. “You are insane. This is gonna be here for weeks!”

Mingi bit his bottom lip, trying to keep the shit eating grin under bay as he looked at the mark on your neck. “Whoops,” he shrugged. “I think he’s jealous of you.”

“Whoops my ass.” you groaned. “And what do you mean he’s jealous of me?”

 Walking to the edge of the pool and slipping in the cool water, sighing at the stark contrast of the chill against your very heated skin.

“I mean, you’ve got such a hot babe such as myself all over you, how could he not be jealous?” He smiled, feeling triumphant with his joke. The ever-so-humble Mingi. You laughed him off,  enjoying the feel of the pool water swallowing you up.

He did not need to go that far, but you didn’t stop him. You let him mark you, and he did it so naturally. Your stomach fluttered, and you dunked your head under the water to try and clear the thoughts from your head. It felt like a line that had never been drawn was crossed. There really was never a line of boundaries between you and Mingi. Everything was on the table for the most part. But the way he so sensually licked up your throat and held you with his burning hands like he couldn’t stand to be away from you had your mind reeling. What now?

Mingi sat on the beach chair, watching as you ascended from under the water, admiring how the droplets raced down your skin and the way your hair didn’t quite soak up all the water, the sun bouncing off the shiny curls.

Mingi was never shy about admiring you. Any friend can admit that their friend is beautiful, and you were no exception. He loved to watch you do anything. Making coffee, reading a book, cleaning your room, or getting out of the car. You looked pretty in everything you did, and he always made sure you knew.

But now there was something different about the way you moved. He noticed the sway in your hips, the way your hair framed your face and your lashes brushed against your cheeks when you blinked. The way your hands kept absentmindedly touching the bruise on your neck every now and then, and how the spots of discoloration and a few scars here and there all over your body decorate your skin like starlight. He was really seeing you now, and you thrived in the sun. You looked so fucking pretty in the sun.

Now you were lying on a float, sunglasses on and relaxing in the pool, drifting slowly and taking a moment to relax from the heated moment you just narrowly escaped with your head still intact. And Mingi simply sat and watched. He could watch you all day. A weird flame licked at his chest every time he looked at the bruise on your neck, a sense of pride and ownership gripping his heart. He did that. And for something deep in his gut wanted to litter your pretty skin with more.

♡

Nightfall descended once again, the blue sea being swallowed in pitch black darkness, the only lights coming from the ship itself, like you were floating in endless nothing. You and Mingi decided you’d try some new drinks and meander around the ship before heading back to the cabin. You still hadn't seen the whole boat, endless hallways, and vast rooms, still left untouched.

“Okay what about a kiss on the lips?” you ask, eyes glazing over the drink menu on the black chalkboard by the bar.

“Oh boy don’t mind if I do!” Mingi clapped, cheesily puckering his lips and leaning towards you.

“The drink, you jackass.” You glared at him, and Mingi pouted, rolling his eyes and looking back at the chalkboard.

“Whatever. I kind of want to try the blue Hawaiian. Or maybe the Miami Vice. I don't know, they're all so colorful.” You both settled on a drink, Mingi getting a blue Hawaiian, and you settled on a mai tai.

With your drinks in hand, you both left the bar area and started to walk around the ship. The rest of the ship was surprisingly empty, most people already back at their cabins or still on deck or at the bar. A few stragglers here and there, but for the most part, you and Mingi were on your own.

“I feel like we’re in the backrooms,” you said, whispering like you might disturb someone. “It's so liminal back here.” You were both walking side by side down an endless hallway, red plush carpet under your feet, passing a door every 3 steps you took on either side of the hall.

“I think it’s just another floor of cabins,” Mingi spoke into the space, his deep voice bouncing off the beige walls.

“It seems really empty, though. Maybe it's just unoccupied. Where are we going anyway?” You two didn’t plan anything in particular; you just started to drink and walk, light conversation flowing between the two of you, the tension from the earlier encounter with your ex fading into the background.

But when you guys turned the corner to follow the rest of the hallway, you suddenly heard groaning and shuffling of clothes. You and Mingi stopped in your tracks right before you turned the corner. You both slipped behind the wall and peeked around just to see your ex and an entirely new girl making out in the dark against a wall. A brunette this time.

Your face twisted in disgust at his behavior, before Mingi shook your shoulder to grab your attention.

“I’m gonna scream,” Mingi whispered, barely hiding the giggling in his voice as he smiled so wide you thought he might split his face. You couldn't stop the grin on your lips, trying to be the voice of reason.

“No Mingi! Don’t do it…” but you weren’t really trying to stop it. 

“On 3, I scream and then we book it.” You nodded, and your heart raced; you could hear the kissing getting more heated as you braced yourself to get ready to run.

“1..”

“2..”

“3..”

Mingi yelled, and he yelled LOUD. Immediately, you could hear the girl your ex was swapping tongue with scream in fear, and he screamed just as loud, by the time they were frantically asking “what the fuck was that?”, Mingi and you were flying on your feet down the hall, laughing uncontrollably as you both booked it.

“Back to the room!” he cackled, pushing against your lower back, urging you to run faster. Running down long hallways always made it feel like you were moving faster than you actually were, but it was exhilarating.

You turned the corner, laughter still spilling from you both until you made it to the elevator. Mingi repeatedly pressed the up button like it would make it go faster.

“Stop, you're gonna break it!” you said, smacking his wrist. He stopped pressing the button and waited for it to arrive.

 When you both made it back to your cabin, you set your empty glass on the table by the door and fell on the bed, taking a deep breath and sinking into the mattress, trying to regain your composure.

“I hate running." You breathed out, Mingi watched from the vanity as your chest rose and fell with your breaths, still nursing his drink. The alcohol was flowing through your veins and you were hot and tired. You needed to go to sleep.

“Mingi tuck me in,” you called out, flipping over on your back and sitting on the bed looking at him. Mingi raised an eyebrow, saying nothing at your command as he remained glued to his spot.

You groaned. “Please?” And he moved. Setting his glass on the counter and walked over and picked up a pillow. “C’mon, get up for me.”

You stood and let him pull the comforter back, and you slipped underneath as he fluffed your pillows and handed you your phone. “Thank you, Min.” You spoke fondly, feeling pampered.

“I’m gonna go shower, I’ll be in bed soon. Get some rest, I know those 30 seconds of running really took it out of you.” Without missing a beat, you threw a pillow at him, flipping him the bird as he turned, giggling as he walked to the shower.

Sleep took you easily after some scrolling and phone time; you eventually drifted off, the sound of Mingi showering fading into background noise.

When you were stirred from your sleep, Mingi had slipped into bed next to you, his chest pressed against your back as an arm slung over your shoulder, and pulled you into his body. He buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath and melting into the bed. You relaxed into him, drifting off to sleep once you were comfy again, the steadiness of his breathing lulling and calm. Nothing was weird. Everything was normal. You were just two really close friends. He was doing you a favor; he meant nothing behind it. Nothing was going to change.

♡

“My pretty girl,” he moaned into your mouth, tongue slipping past your lips and swallowing your sounds greedily. “My gorgeous gorgeous girl. I’m the only one who deserves you.” Your head was light, and your body was on fire. His hands were all over you, in your hair and wrapped around your torso, between your legs, and around your neck. His scent enveloped you, and your stomach ached.

“Gonna have you crying for me, baby. Show you what you’ve been missing all these years.” He was all over you, barely letting you breathe. It's not like you needed to; you were perfectly content where you were, tangled with him in the sheets. The world is far away. Just you and him.

“Mingi…” you whined, your voice far away from you, your own hands balled in a fist against his shirt as he claimed you like you were rightfully his.

“What did you say?”

Your eyes shot open, sweat clung to your body, and your head throbbed. Your breathing came fast as you realized you were dreaming. The room was dark, and the sloshing of waves was heard outside the window as the boat continued on its journey.

Groggily, you moved to sit up, but an arm pulled you down by your shoulder, shoving you onto your back into the mattress. Mingi sat up, leaning his head over to try and look at you in the darkness. “What did you say?” He said again, one hand holding down your shoulder while the other pressed against the headboard, effectively caging you in.

You were bewildered. You were having a wet dream about your best friend right next to him. Humiliating.

When you didn’t respond, Mingi’s voice lowered, his grip on you softening as he leaned his head down to whisper in your ear. “You said my name.” Not a question. A fact. You were moaning his name in your sleep. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

The room was silent, and the air was stagnant. His voice was thick with sleep, and right now, you were so glad it was so dark he couldn’t see your face.

“Nu uh.” You squeaked, mentally punching yourself. That was the best you could think of. Jesus Christ.

“Yuh huh.” He replied, feeling a hand, large and warm, rest against your stomach, he gently massaged the area, in an attempt to soothe you. But it, in fact, was doing the opposite.

“Min, I’m not doing this right now.” You sat up, moving away from his touch, swinging your legs over to dangle off the side of the bed.

“You started it!” He made no move to stop you. “Literally, I was sleeping and all I hear is 'oh Mingi-”

“STOP.” You cover your ears. “Lalalalala I can’t hear you!” You went to stand on your feet, but his hand gripped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You stayed, his grip hot against your skin as he kept you there in the dark.

“Wait. (Name.)” Mingi’s voice was low, careful. Testing. “Don’t go. Where are you going?” You bit your bottom lip; that pout in his voice was always enough to keep you in place. You were so hot. Sweaty and turned on, and his voice was only making it worse.

“Don’t talk.” You clipped, voice shaky. Mingi dragged you by your wrist back to the bed, pulling you on top of his body. His back was propped against the headboard, sitting up. He pulled you onto his lip, both legs straddling his thighs. Both hands circled your waist, keeping your body upright on his lap.

“Why not?” He mumbled, his thumbs massaging your sides. “I know you like hearing me talk.”

“That's the issue.” You said back, no longer trying to get away from him. “The last thing I need from you right now is your stupid voice.”

He ignored you. “Were you dreaming about me?” Mingi squeezed your waist, smiling at the hitch in your breath when you felt it. You didn’t respond, burying your face in your hands. Mingi wasn’t having it.

“Talk to me.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips against that mark he left on your neck, softly dragging them across the skin. You whimpered, and Mingi seemed to like it.

It took you a second to notice the tent in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh where you sat on him. When you finally noticed, you groaned.

“Mingi..”

“Yes?” he whispered into the crook of your neck.

“What are we doing?” You waited, silence enveloped again, then his hand slipped behind your back, pushing it against you and causing you to fall forward against his chest, your forehead on his shoulder, and his lips tickling your ear.

“What do you want us to do?” He spoke, voice barely even a whisper, so quiet it almost felt like he was talking to himself. He smelled spicy, woody. Clean and sexy, like Mingi. “Be honest,” a command almost. It didn’t sound like he wanted any more beating around the bush.

You shrugged, trying your best to keep it together, play it off. “I don’t know... you've been a little more attractive lately."

Mingi laughed breathily against your ear, a hand circling around the back of your neck, bringing your head back so you were looking at him, your noses brushing in the darkness, Your breaths mingled and your heart had never raced so fast. You bet if you could see him clearly you’d have a heart attack.

“Have I?” He kissed the tip of your nose. “Are my charms finally working on you?” A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hand drag up your thigh, hooking at your hip and pressing you down onto his lap, every so slightly grinding your body onto his. A low groan slipped from his lips, baritone and heavy. You were dizzy. So dizzy.

“Finally?” you whisper, your hand clammy and your underwear feeling unusually sticky.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea,” Mingi mumbled against your cheek, his breathing hot and heavy against your skin. “If you knew the things I’ve imagined about you, I have a feeling you might lose some respect for me.” Challenge accepted.

“Like what?” you asked, genuine curiosity in your tone, but also laced with a fear of what he might say.

“For starters, I would have loved to lay you out on that beach chair in front of your ex and eat your pussy until you were shaking. Show him how he could never lay his hands on you again. Or how, when you have me over for dinner, how badly I want to bend you over the kitchen island and fuck you stupid, till you drool all over yourself and I ruin you for anyone else. My personal favorite trapping you in my arms, looking all pretty in my bed sheets and driving my cock into you so deep you feel it in your throat-”

“Mingi I swear to fucking god I’ll kill you.”

“I warned you!” He exclaimed, pinching your thigh gently. “Can’t get mad at me, plus I know like hearing it.” He kissed your ear, nipping at the shell. “I know you too well.”

You couldn't hold back the whimper, and Mingi inhaled sharply. “God, your voice is so pretty.” His lips brushed against yours, featherlight. Not kissing you yet. He was waiting for your permission. 

“You have to let me know I can (Name.) I don’t wanna fuck this up.” His brows furrowed, and his eyes screwed shut, his hands twitching against your body like he was restraining himself. “Please.”

“Fuck Mingi, I was trying to get you to be a man and just take it but if you wanna be such a-” he gave you no time to finish, his pillowy lips pressing against yours, groaning like he just relieved the most immeasurable pain he’d ever felt.

He kissed you slowly, taking his time with you. His hands were firm and roaming along your body, like he was trying to map out every inch of you. Your skin tingled and you carded your fingers through his hair, gripping the locks at the scalp and tugging him closer to you.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he rocked his hips into you, laughing when he felt you moan into him, the most delicious sounds he’s ever heard from you.

“Oh, you taste amazing.” His kisses started to become sloppy, sensual, and all-consuming, like he was trying to eat you alive. You moaned, the tension in your shoulders melting as you finally got what you had been craving. “Need you to ride my thigh, (Name) Fuck, please need it now.”

You didn’t hesitate, adjusting your legs to straddle his left thigh. You braced your hands on his chest, dipping your head to bury your nose into the crook of his neck. His hands held your hips tightly, guiding them.

“Nice and slow, grind for me.” And you obeyed. “Back and forth…” You rolled your hips experimentally, his thigh flexing the muscle right where your clothed clit dragged against it. The fabric of his shorts rode up, exposing the soft skin. The pleasure shot up your spine like a bullet, lolling your head back as you finally let yourself indulge in your best friend.

Mingi landed a playful smack on your ass, smiling when your hips stuttered and your moans hitched.

“C’mon, I know you can do better than that.” You glared at him in the darkness, sinking your teeth into his earlobe.

“If I’m not doing good enough for you then do something about it.” You bit back, rolling your hips particularly hard, purposefully letting your hand graze against the hard on in his shorts. His hips bucked against your touch, a low growl escaping him and causing your cunt to clench hard.

Mingi tugged at the waistband of your shorts. “Lift your hips, let me get these off of you.” You braced your hands on his shoulders and lifted yourself off of him, Mingi peeled your shorts down your thighs and off your legs, throwing them on the floor. His hand pressed against the center of your panties, eyes rolling when he felt the soaked spot.

“Oh, did I make you this wet, baby?” His fingers pulled your panties to the side, letting his fingers drag through your slick folds, slowly, deliberately, and teasingly. He pressed his fingertips against your clit like he was pushing a button, your back arching and your whines hitting his ear. You were so sensitive, you had never been this sensitive. Goes to show how years of teasing and built-up tension, when it finally snaps, just how hot you’d feel.

“How long have you wanted this? Tell me while I fuck you with my fingers.” He gave you a pointed look, your vision finally adjusting in the darkness. 

“Do you hear me?” He moaned against your skin, letting a finger slide inside of you, slow and languid. 

“Yes, Mingi, fuck, I hear you.” Your hands grasped his hair and tugged to ground yourself, the grumble he let out making you clench around his finger as he slid it deeper, the pad of his finger pressing against that spot deep inside of you that made your breathing halt.

“Good girl, talk to me.” Mingi swallows your moans with another kiss, slowly coaxing his finger inside, slipping a second one in once he’s worked you open a little.

“Love it when you touch me, when you tease me..” you cried into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip and rolling your hips into his hand.

“Yeah?” he breathed out, curling his fingers just right, pressing the heel of his palm against your clit. “I always knew you loved it. You like to act all annoyed, but I know that every time I talk to you in that way, you like you soak your panties for me.” He lifted your shirt over your breasts, immediately dipping his head and taking a nipple in his mouth, his groans vibrating through your body as his tongue flicked against them like he was eating candy.

“Isn’t that right pretty girl?” It was so hard to think with Mingi’s fingers curling inside of you, your brain was foggy and you couldn’t breathe. You could only manage a nod, tears prickling in your eyes as you felt the pressure in your tummy build as he took what he wanted from you.

He sunk his teeth into the swell of your breast, tongue lolling out to soothe the bite after. “Good, arch that back.”

Years of dancing around each other. The lingering touches and the heated looks, all brushed off for the sake of being best friends, thrown out the window. You wouldn’t have any other way.

“Listen to my voice, and focus on yourself baby.” Mingi opted for slow and pressurized drags of his thick fingers, your voice caught in your throat as you felt your self start to topple over that edge, Mingi perfectly guiding you through it at just the right pace.

“That's it, fucking take it. God, I can’t wait to fuck you, been wanting to have you to myself for so long…” He pressed his lips against yours, growling down your throat. “Cum on my fingers, baby, please. Let me have it, fucking give it to me.”

He never pulled away from your lips, swallowing every noise you made as your body spasmed and a wave of pleasure so intense it knocked you against your skull, it made you breathless.

“Yes ma’am, fuck… I’m gonna snap you in half. ‘M gonna make you feel so good.” Mingi lets you ride it out on him, his fingers continuing to drag inside of you, your slick dripping down his wrist and onto the bed.

When you finally could breathe again, Mingi gave you no time, flipping you over, your back hitting the mattress. He stood up by the edge of the bed, ripping his tanktop off and discarding his pants. He nodded his head towards you, clicking his tongue.

“Off, all of it.” He groaned. “Wanna see all of you.” You ripped off your shirt and slid your panties off your legs, letting them fall on the floor as you watched Mingi strip in front of you in turn. He climbed on top of your body slotting between your legs, crashing his lips with yours, hands everywhere all over you. 

His cock, unbelievably hot and hard, dragged through your soaked folds. His hands ghosted down the inside of your arm, tickling slightly until his fingers flexed and wrapped around your wrist. He brought it to his mouth, kissing the pulse point of your wrist, dragging it up and locking both your wrists together with his grasp, tight and grounding above your head, restraining you.

Your body squirmed underneath him, he brought his head down, pressing a kiss right above your belly button. He locked eyes with you, his tongue falling from his mouth as he licked oh so slowly up your body, up your stomach between your breasts, his lips landing on the side of your neck without the hickey.

“Might as well give my girl another one right?” He blew a gust of air on the nape of your neck, continuing to slide his cock through your folds, moaning at the heat radiating from you. “Let everyone know that you’re off the market.”

He closed his lips over your throat, biting, licking and sucking sloppily. Your hips twitched against him as you tried to get him to slip inside, but Mingi wanted to take his time.

“Patience…” he pulled off your neck with a slick pop, kissing your collarbones and squeezing your wrist in warning, daring you to try and rush it again. “Let me have my fun with you baby.”

You know better. He loves to tease and play. But you could tell that he was holding himself back, you just needed to press his buttons right.

You twisted your hands in his grasp, ripping your hand free. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging his head down to yours, kissing him hard and deep. He kept you and you could feel his fingers still holding your other wrist twitch.

“Mingi.” You groaned against his lips, your eyes boring into his, pupils blown and cheeks flushed. He looked unbelievable. “Fuck me right now, or so help me god.”

He bit his bottom lip, hips stuttering. “Fine.” His hands slid down to grab the backs of your thigh, pulling them up and lifting your legs a little higher. He sat up on his knees, glaring down at you with a dangerous look in his eyes. Fuck he was so big. Towering over your body on the bed, broad shoulders and bugling muscles. His chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths as you felt the tip of him press against your entrance.

“Don’t whine when it's too much.” Slowly, Mingi pressed himself in, the stretch burning perfectly. “Take it like a big girl, (Name.)” And you did.

Poised tall above you, the grip on your hips borderline bruising as he slid inside of you. Your eyes rolled and your thighs twitched as he took his time thrusting himself into you. Deep and heavy, finally claiming what was rightful to him.

“Yeah..” he groaned, feeling your walls pulse around him as he sat still snug in your cunt. “What a good fucking girl.” Then he pulled his hips back, slipping out of you until just the tip sat inside.

Mean, calculated, and rough, he slammed his hips against you, knocking the breath from your lungs, his tip dragging against that spot inside of you so perfectly. You let out a guttural groan, feeling so full of him. 

“Don’t move,” He bit, driving his cock in and out in and out. Fucking you so deep your vision was spotting. “Lie back and take what I give you, baby. I’ve got you.”

He kept his grip on your hips rough, pinning you down to the bed so you couldn’t move. Fucking you like you might run from him, like he couldn’t afford losing this night to you. He’d wreck you, ruin you. Use you in a way only lovers can use each other. You were so pretty under him, body twitching and face twisted in pleasure as he fucked you hard into the sheets. He grabbed your thigh and hiked your leg up and over his shoulder. The new angle was punishing, driving himself impossibly deeper into your cunt, you could feel every vein, and tears pricked at your eyes, and the sheer bruising pace he was setting against your g-spot. Relentless and unforgiving. Like he was making you suffer for having him wait so long to have you.

One hand left your hip, dragging up your body, caressing your throat, massaging your jaw. His fingers flexed around your neck, pressing the pads of his fingers against the sides. Your visions spotted again and your cunt clenched around him hard, a heavy breathy moan slipping past your lips.

“Oh my god… fuck Min, you’re so good.” You rolled your hips a few times to match his ruthless pace, fucking you better than you’ve been fucked before, and Mingi new it. His ego was thriving and he had never been happier so deep in your cunt. He rolled his hips, gyrating them a few times so you could really feel every inch of him.

“You’re so warm, sweetheart, fuck… always knew you’d be perfect. Always knew you’d come around…” The confidence in his voice was brain-numbing. He really had been plotting on you. The bastard.

He grabbed your other leg, pressing them together and wrapping his arms around them both, locking them in front of his torso. He slowed his pace, dragging his cock in and out so slow and so deep, really taking his time exploring you.

Your voice was raw and you felt like you could feel him in your ribcage. 

Snap. He bullied his dick into you, hard this time. Your back arched, and your legs twitched in his hold. “Too much!” You whined out. “I can’t Min-”

“Not too much.” he hissed, fucking you with no mercy, his hands squeezing your calves and running up and down your legs. “You can, and you fucking will.”

“Tell me you want it. Tell me you need it. C’mon baby. Let me know.” Your hands gripped the pillows under your head. Mingi had full control. Using your legs to hold him to you as he fucked you, like it hurt him not to. It was mind-numbing, and you didn’t want it to end. But that inevitable pressure was building in your lower stomach again.

“I want you…” you whined, voice shaking and raw. “I need you Mingi. Please.. Fuck don’t stop!”

His thrusts increased in strength, harsher and mean as he fucked you with abandon. “Are you mine? Say you’re mine…” he whined between thrusts, his hips sloppy and rough. His voice dropped to that sensual baritone whisper that made your pussy clench and your eyes roll. “Fuck me… please say you’re mine. Say you belong to me…”

“I’m yours Mingi! I’ve always been yours…” you cry out. Mingi spread your legs and laid them back on the bed, dropping his torso down to press against yours and swallow your cries in a deep, soul crushing kiss.

His hand cupped your jaw and the other snaked down to draw close knit circles against your clit. “Fuck yes. You’re mine. This pussy’s mine. All mine.” Your breath staggered, and your eyes screwed shut, focusing on his touches and his mouth on yours. You were so fucking close.

He pressed his forehead against yours, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and eyes half lidded as he focused on you. “Gonna cum again baby?”

You nod frantically, your noises quiet now, Ming’s rough thrusts leaving no room for you to moan, just heavy breaths and staggered whimpers. It felt like heaven.

“I love making it good for you.” He whispered against your lips. “Love making you feel amazing. The number of times I lay in my bed fucking my fist, imagining this exact moment. You have no idea, baby, no fucking clue. Cum hard for me, give it to me, sweetheart.”

And you did. Your body convulsed and your mouth fell open against his. Your mind flashed white with a broken cry of his name as you came.

“Fuuuckk yeah baby.” Mingi groaned. He smiled, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “So gorgeous when you cum. Could watch you do that all damn day.”

His hips stuttered as he began to lose the rhythm, his own release crawling up his spine. “Gonna fuck my cum into you honey.”  You were limp, overstimulated, drooling onto the sheets as he used your body, fogbrained and stupid.

“Just let me use you, almost there I promise.” He rolled his hips a few more times, his voice breaking between moans and huffs. He stilled, one final, deep thrust, spilling himself inside of you. He rocked into you, fucking his spent inside of you, your body shivering from the sensitivity.

“Holy s-shit…” Mingi caressed your hips as he slowly rolled into you, fucking you both through the aftershock.  

He stayed still for a moment, you both taking time to catch your breath and come back down to earth. Slowly, he pulled himself out of you, wincing from the pressure and the way you clenched as he moved. Slick, he slipped himself out, taking a deep breath as the cold air of the room enveloped him.

He shivered and laid on his stomach between your legs, his head between your thighs.

“Lemme clean this up…” His tongue lolled out of his mouth, licking up between your thighs, kissing around your swollen cunt, cleaning the stickiness between your legs. You sighed, your hands coming down to massage his scalp, nails scraping against the skin beneath his soft head of hair.

He stayed there for a while, kissing between your thighs and relaxing in each other’s presence. 

“Mingi I’m tired.” You croaked, voice strained from all the moaning. Mingi lifted himself from between your legs, moving up to press light kisses all over your face.

“I’d never trade you for the world.” Soft, loving and unprovoked. He just loved you that much. And now he finally had all of you, he’d never let you go.

You reciprocated with gentle kisses along his eyebrows, smiling against his flushed skin. “I hope we’ll be making the most out of the next few days I didn’t pay 600 per ticket for nothing. We’re putting this lovers package to use until its run dry.”

Mingi laughs, his hands caressing your waist and rubbing circles just below your breasts. “Way ahead of you.” He stood, taking your hand in his, having you sit up on the bed.

“Shower with me?” Mingi asked, squeezing your hand gently.

“Of course is that even a question?” You followed him to the bathroom, legs slightly shaky, but he stayed by your side keeping you upright. You glared at him considering he made you forget how to use your legs, he only shrugged smiling sheepishly.

After a warm, lathering shower, you both snuggled under the sheets, holding each ither close as the ship rocked and the waves whispered outside.

Lying behind you, Mingi moved your hair to the side, looking at the marks on your neck, smiling proudly to himself.

“I want you to wear that orange bathing suit I got you tomorrow. It’ll pair nice with these marks and I’m sure it’ll get a rise out of that asshat.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such an instigator Min.” You laughed, Mingi pressing a kiss to the marks.

“What?” he whispered in your ear. “Am I not allowed to be proud of my work?” 

“Go to sleep.” you mumbled, your eyes feeling heavy.

“I dont wanna.” he whined, pressing his nose to your hair inhaling deeply and taking in your scent. “Mmm, you smell so good...”

“Mingi.” you snapped.

“Yes ma’am.” He pulled you closer, resting his head on your shoulder and closing his eyes. Last thing he needed was pisisng you off and you hitting him.

“Goodnight (Name.).” he kissed your temple, 

You smiled to yourself; you really had him around your finger. You kissed his arm, letting sleep take over you. “Goodnight Min.” Silence, for a moment. Peace.

“Can’t wait to rub it in that asshole’s face tomorrow-”

“Mingi, I swear to God I will kill you.”

Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this one, hope you like it!

[maho6any]

snow cream

Roommate!Yunho x F!Reader

summary: Six months of living under the same roof, and you barely knew the guy. You both always came and went, to and from your jobs and school, only ever interacting in the kitchen or the living room late at night when you wanted a glass of water or he wanted to watch TV. But when winter rolls around and the snowstorms get heavy, maybe somehow you could warm up to each other…

tags: snowed in, forced proximity(?), attempt at humor, fluff, mutual pining, hand kink (duh), soft mdom, petnames (baby, angel face, pretty girl, slut etc.), Yu LOVES touching you, handjob, nipple sucking, fingering, tension, unprotected sex (BOOOOO), lotus positon, he talks alot, multiple orgasms, aftercare, NOT PROOFREAD

wc: 7.2k

notes: sort of based around a nsfw audio I listened to a couple years ago LMAO.

tracklist: bad liar, poison, intro: singularity

“Reports are flowing in from the NWS about upcoming snowstorms, which are expected to reach record levels; the surrounding area is expecting up to 6 inches. Officials are closing roads and the district schools are shutting down until-”

“Just my luck, huh?” You switched off your phone and rested your head against your steering wheel with an exasperated sigh. You had seen the beginning of the snowfall that week, just light flakes here and there, but they weren't sticking.

But of course mother nature had to give a big fuck you and mess with your plans that weekend with 6 inches of snow. Roads were closing, and so were the stores, so you needed to be in and out before the snowstorm picked up.

You rubbed your temples before switching your car off, getting out, and walking into the grocery store with your original plan in mind.

You had planned to pick up some ingredients for some appetizers you were going to bring to one of your friends' birthdays, but you had frowned when they texted your group chat, saying the party had been cancelled because of snowfall.

That's what led you to the news, deflating your excitement. Instead of being here for groceries, you were here to stock up on supplies. And so was everybody else. The store was packed with people. Mothers are rushing and snatching boxes of cereal off the shelf. Dads are stocking up on batteries and jugs of water. The poor employees were at war with the panicking public. Quickly as you could, you grabbed a cart and picked up some essentials. Batteries. Toilet paper. Bottled water. Some nonperishables. While walking past the home section, you noticed a couple of displays where they were selling large fleece blankets.

You eyed them for a second, debating if you should get one.

Maybe two.

One for you, one for your roommate. Jeong Yunho. 

You had met him on Craigslist whilst looking for roommate listings. You decided community college was best for your budget years ago, but you needed to find somewhere else to live. Soon. Living with your parents is not for the weak.

You spent hours on different websites, desperate to find somewhere close and affordable. Maybe also a roommate who has a low chance of murdering you in your sleep.

You stumbled across the listing one night, hope slowly dwindling at the awful market.

2 bedrooms. 2 baths. 600 per month. Cats are welcome. Email for more information.

Immediately, you jumped on it because there was no way you would be able to find anything cheaper than this, unfortunately. You emailed him all your information. About your job and schedule, and made sure to mention that you would like to bring your cat, Patches. About a week later, you had driven to the house to look around and discuss final plans and agreements. Along with you, you brought your cat so she could become accustomed to the new living space.

The house was cute and quaint, a little grey and white bungalow with a few bushes on either side of the steps that led up to the black door. A decent-sized front yard, neat and green, with a driveway with just enough space for two cars. Perfect. 

When you met the person who posted the listing, you had pulled up to the house, parking your car behind another one already in the driveway. He was on the porch, in the process of carrying some bags inside the house.. When he saw you, he waved for you to follow him inside. He showed you to your room, talked about rent and policies. You both established some privacy rules, and he was petting your cat the entire time. He seemed to take a liking to her immediately. Yunho had you sign some things, and then that was it. Simple, fast, and easy. A few days later, you had moved your stuff in, and from then on, you and Yunho barely interacted.

He said that he’s usually at one of his friends' houses, at work or class, or in his room playing games. This was perfect for you; you enjoyed your privacy, and if you were being honest, you were nervous around Yunho.

He had this boyish charm to him that made your heart flutter; he was tall and spoke to you gently, as if he were too loud, he might scare you. He had dark brown hair that parted in the middle, with bangs that sometimes covered his eyes. And you couldn’t help but feel ashamed that your gaze always drifted to his hands whenever you saw him. Large and slender, the veins prominent like a roadmap.

 He always made sure that you knew where he was going when he went somewhere with a text like “At friends,” or “Out drinking.”

Another thing you had noticed while living with him was that it was like he stole your cat from you. IF you couldn't find your cat anywhere, it was safe to assume she was in Yunho's room. She followed him around the apartment all the time, whenever he sat on the couch to watch TV, she was in his lap. Whenever he was in the kitchen cooking, she was perched on the counter watching intently.

One day, you came home and saw Yunho on the couch with her. Usually, she’d get up and greet you by rubbing her face against your legs. Instead, she stayed put, gave you a curt meow, and that was it.

You walked by the back of the couch and narrowed your eyes at her, mouthing the words “traitor” before retreating to your room.  

You ran your hand over the navy blue fleece blanket that was folded next to a similar white one. Making up your mind, you dropped the blue blanket in your cart as well as the white one. After some more shopping, you checked out and began your drive home, the snow beginning to fall again. 

Your mind wandered back to your roommate again. You're pretty sure he was at a friend's house right now, you just hoped he would make it home safe. Driving home through the snow was certainly a feat. Everyone on the road opted to go under the speed limit in hopes they wouldn't go sliding at a sharp turn. A blanket of white began to accumulate on the ground, and it was growing increasingly difficult to see through the snow swirling in the air.

After a grueling and stressful journey, you returned to the house safely. The yard was a pure, sparkling white, untouched like a fresh, clean blanket. You gathered your bags and stepped out of the car, trudging through the snow as it only continued to climb higher and higher. As you suspected, Yunho’s car wasn’t in the driveway.

You made it inside, the warmth of the heater immediately making you shed your jacket as you dropped the bags on the table. As soon as you did, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out to see a text from Yunho.

“Be home later.” Simple and quick. You thought for a moment whether you should text back. Your fingers began typing, and then you hit send.

“Be safe.” A second later, it buzzed again.

“Will do.”

You felt stupid for the way your heart clenched a little. You could count on three hands how many conversations you’ve had with him that lasted longer than a minute. Words are always fleeting between you two, always too busy for anything more than a good morning or an update on bills. But Yunho always responded to your texts with earnestness, replying fast and confidently. It was never anything deep, but whenever you asked what he wanted for dinner, he always responded with whatever it was he wanted, with a smiley face and a thank you.

He never really engaged in any more conversation than that, but for some reason, you could tell her cared more than he let on.

You put away all the things you bought, deciding to place the blanket you bought for Yunho on the couch so he’d see it when he got home. You cleaned up a little, because if you’re going to be snowed in, at least let the place be neat.

After some light cleaning, you had a shower and decided that for tonight’s dinner, you’d make some chili, so that way you would have leftovers for the upcoming days. Tonight was usually Yunho’s night for meals, but you were feeling froggy.

Connecting your speaker to your phone, you cleaned up your area and put on some music, getting ready to make dinner. You were in your zone, chopping tomatoes and browning the beef. The music flowed from your speaker, and the house was filled with a cozy feeling. You were an avid big light hater, so a few lamps and candles here and there set a soothing ambient lighting. The sun was setting, and the snow was picking up, the wind howling outside.

After another hour or so, dinner was done, and Yunho still wasn’t home. It was 8 pm. He’s usually out past 11, but because of the storm, you had assumed he’d be back earlier. You decided to shoot him a test, for your own mental fortitude. The snow had calmed, gentle snowfall dusting your windows.

“Are you on your way home? I made chili.” Send.

You waited a minute or two. No response. You rested your elbows on the kitchen island, waiting for his reply.

The three bouncing dots appeared at the bottom of your messages, and he was typing.

It stopped for a second, then started up again.

“Can you come outside?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise at such a weird question. You thought he was with his friends. He was typing again.

“Down the street.”

“Stuck in the snow.”

“Please.” 

You were so confused. Quickly, you slipped on your coat and your shoes by the door. You slipped your phone in your pocket and opened your front door. The cold hit your face like a mallet, and immediately your nose started to burn. But it was beautiful outside. Fresh snow everywhere. It was dark outside well into the night, but the snow was so white it was like it provided a little glow of its own. Snowflakes flurried from the sky, landing all over your clothes. You stepped into the front yard, and half of your calf sank completely beneath the surface of the fluff.

You, albeit with some trouble, waded through your front yard and stepped out onto the icy street nearly losing your footing and busting your ass. The neighborhood was silent, not a soul in sight, the end of the street being swallowed in black emptiness. 

But on the other end of the street, a lone car pulled off to the curb, headlights on as the snow swirled around the warm beams of light in a dancing flurry.

Beside it was your roommate, waving at you, bundled in a coat and scarf, grey sweatpants, and a desperate look on his face.

You started to walk towards him, doing your best not to slip and fall. “What the hell is going on?” You exclaim as you walk towards him. His tires were buried in the snow, and his windshield wipers were swaying steadily, clearing the flakes off the glass.

When you were about 6 steps away from reaching him, you began to lose your footing, the ice seeming slicker than before.

“Careful-careful-careful!” Yunho reached his hands forward and took a step in an attempt to catch you, but it was too late. 

“Shit!” your feet slipped from underneath you and after a couple slips and slides fighting to stay up, you ultimately fell directly on your ass, a sharp pain shooting up your tailbone.

You groaned, hand reaching back and rubbing your lower back. Immediately, the wet ice soaked your pants uncomfortably, and you already knew you’d wake up tomorrow with a nasty bruise.

Silence fell as you sat in defeat and mulled your pain, but Yunho was oddly quiet. You raised your eyes to look at him. He had one hand over his mouth. His eyebrows were raised in shock, and his eyes slowly narrowed as he took you in.

“Laugh. I dare you.” You glared at him, wincing at the sharp pain crawling up your tailbone.

“Jeong Yunho, you are a child.” You rolled your eyes as he busted out into a fit of laughter, one hand on his car while the other stayed on his mouth. You turned and got ready to get up so you could hit him.

“N-No wait stop!” he shouted between fits of giggles, his arms coming down and trying to pull you up by your arms, while simultaneously avoiding your violent hands.

“I’m sorry, let me just- hold on- stop trying to hit me (Name)! I'm trying to help you.”

“Well then, stop laughing at me!” His own feet were starting to lose friction on this ice as he felt his body sway as he grabbed you.

“If you don’t stop moving, you’re gonna take us both down!” Yunho tried to manhandle you back up, but unfortunately he lost it and tumbled down right next to you, accidentally yanking you onto your back as he landed on his ass.

“Goddamnit...” Yunho laid back in the snow, seemingly giving up on trying to get either one of you on your feet. You giggled behind your hand as you looked at him, his hair all messy and dusted with snowflakes.

He glanced at you and sighed. “Go ahead. It's only fair.” You took that opportunity to laugh in his face, him lightening up and joining you.

When you both calmed down, you looked behind him at his car. “So what happened, you just got lodged in the snow?”

“Wow, real astute (Name). Did I also mention that it’s snowing outside? How crazy is that?” You moved to smack his shoulder at his smart alecness, but he dodged.

“Stop trying to hit me, and help me move my car.” Bewildered, you watch as he stumbled and tried to stand up, feet slipping here and there as he finally stood upright. Like a baby penguin

“Help you push the car?” You snorted and tried to stand up yourself grunting. “Yeah, that's like not happening. Especially on this ice. You’re just going to have to leave it here until some of the snow melts.” Yunho looked at you like you had just told him something outrageous.

“Are you serious?” He glared at you, noticing how you made no move to come over and start pushing the car. “Insane actually…” he mumbled to himself, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration as he watched the snow fall from the night sky.

“Listen, I made dinner tonight. It's chili. Come home for now, it's cold, and the snow will pick back up again soon. Come inside, and we can worry about this later.” Yunho stopped and seemed to think to himself for a second, before his eyes flicked over to yours.

He looked at you with a surprising gentleness, roving over your face before landing on your lips for a fraction of a second, so fast you didn’t catch it.

“Alright.” He threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine, let's go inside. It's okay. We can worry about it later.”

“That's what I said,” you chirped as you turned your back, beginning the slippery journey back to the house.

“I know that's what you said. I was just rephrasing.” Yunho followed behind, shuffling his feet on the ice so he wouldn’t have to pick them up and risk stepping wrong. It was silent on the way back, both of you too focused on not falling again.

You shed your shoes and coat by the door, turning to Yunho and pointing to the rug on the porch.

“Shoes.” You stated. Yunho looked down and removed his shoes, setting them next to yours.

Satisfied you opened the door, you hung your coat on the hanger in the foyer. “I just cleaned the house.” You mumbled to yourself, as if to affirm the reason you made him leave his snow-filled shoes outside.

Yunho followed behind, hanging his own coat and scarf on the rack. You sighed and fell on the couch, groaning in relief at the warmth that surrounded you.

“There’s chili in the kitchen if you want some.” You closed your eyes, basking in the warmth. The pine candle you lit made the house smell so comforting, taking in a deep breath, you heard Yunho’s breath hitch. When you realized he hadn't said anything yet, you peeked open an eye, only to catch him looking away from you.

His arms came up, smoothly directing his gaze down at his hands, fidgeting and playing with his fingers like he was bored.

He was almost caught, your shirt had ridden up when you laid on the couch, exposing your belly and the hem stopping right where your under boob began. Yunho’s brain nearly short-circuited at the sight, wondering what it would feel like to lie to you on his bed and drag his big hands up and down your waist, squeezing and kneading and feeling you…

He blinked, realizing he was much too far in his fantasy, expecting you to be looking at him like he was a pervert. Instead, he caught your eyes glued to his hands like they were the most interesting thing in the world. You blinked once. Twice. Before turning round and snatching up the remote, switching the TV on.

“Like I said, dinner’s in the kitchen. Help yourself.” Quickly gaining your composure like you weren't imagining his fingers inside of you, you switched to a cooking channel and sat on the couch, full attention on the screen.

“What's this?” Yunho tapped the back of the couch. “A blanket?” You didn’t look back at him, too embarrassed to show your face.

“Oh yeah, when I was at the store, I saw they were selling soft blankets, so I got you one.” You shrugged it off. When he didn’t respond, you assumed that he just went to the kitchen to eat.

A few more beats of silence, and you thought you were in the clear from your way too hot roommate, when his gentle, rich voice hit your ears like a truck, and you felt your core clench hard.

“Thank you (Name), you’re such a sweetheart. Thanks for always thinking of me.” 

Like someone just shot you, you whipped your head around to see Yunho holding the blanket in his hands, towering over you, standing behind the couch. His fingers dipping into the soft, navy blue waves of fleece, his lips upturned in a soft smile, and his eyes filled with nothing but adoration.

He was going to kill you. His hair fell in front of his eyes as his hands slowly caressed the blanket he held, his posture was relaxed as his eyes remained fixed on you, and you swear you saw them flick to your lips for a second. 

Your heart stopped and fell to your ass, immediately nervousness took over your body and you felt like a hot mess.

 After a few seconds of silence, Yunho’s smile fell, and his eyebrows knitted, like he was frustrated. He leaned his head back and shoved the blanket in his face, groaning into it.

“Don't… look at me like that.” Yunho’s muffled voice spilled from behind the blanket in his face, and you went rigid. How were you looking at him?

“Well, I don't look at me like that either!” You exclaimed, your voice shaking slightly. Yunho moved the blanket from his face, butting on the back of the couch. His eyes locked with yours again. Every time you looked away, he stepped a little closer, until he was sitting next to you.

“Hey, uh. Back up maybe?” You chided, trying to hide how much of a mess he was able to make of you just by looking at you.

“No.” Yunho challenged, looking at you intently. “Stop looking away and look at me.” So you did, you gazed into his eyes and immediately felt weak. His pupils were BLOWN. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, eyebrows cinched as he stared at you like he was trying to pin you to your spot.

He wasn’t saying anything, but he didn’t look like he was thinking either. He was just staring. You were starting to feel put on the spot, and you were about to make an excuse to go use the bathroom. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Yunho whispered. You nearly choked on your spit, but his hand lifted and dragged his fingertips down the bridge of your nose with feather-light gentleness, along your eyebrow, along your jawline. Like he was mapping out your face.

“Yunho…” You whispered, afraid that if you spoke too loudly, it could shatter the atmosphere. The air was thick, and the wind outside howled as the snow picked up again. The house almost seemed too hot now, and frankly, a snowball to the face wouldn’t be so bad right now. Yunho gnawed on his bottom lip.

“How come you never talk to me?” You suddenly blurted it out, instantly regretting it when it slipped out of your mouth. Yunho, obviously taken aback by your question, paused his touches on your face. He let his hand fall onto his lap and quickly grabbed his hand again, encasing it between your own two.

“What I meant is! Like, why don’t we take or hang out more often? I mean that I would like to, not that you… I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm talking about.” Yunho watched as you stumbled over your words, a smile crossing his face again as he chuckled at your franticness.

“(Name), (Name), stop.” The hand he held in your grasp, gently pulled from you, now holding your wrist. Yunho lowered his head and looked at your hand. Keeping his head down, his eyes lifted to meet yours as his thumb pressed onto the pulse point on the inside of your wrist. His other hand came up to your face, cradling your jaw softly.

Your chest felt like it was going to explode, overwhelmed with how Yunho was so close to you, how he was touching you, how he was looking at you.

“You know, I feel bad. You just thought of me while out shopping and got me a gift, but I don’t have anything for you.” Yunho frowned, dropping his gaze back down to your hand, his fingers tracing lightly up the inside of your arm, drawing circles and stars into your skin.

You shrugged gently, trying to brush it off so you didn't seem like you were expecting something back, because truly you weren’t. You just wanted to get him something.

“It’s nothing, Yu, you don’t have to -“ 

“No, it’s not nothing! Don’t say that.” Yunho squeezed your wrist softly, bringing your arm up and pressing whispers of kisses from your pulse point up your arm, and back down again as he spoke. 

“You’re always so thoughtful. Always checking up on me, making amazing meals for us, looking so pretty all the time.” You swallowed, your face quickly heating up at the praise, and the strain in his voice as he spoke. You struggled to find words to reply to him. You never realized how much he appreciated what you do, and frankly, you didn’t realize how much you did for him. 

“I wanna give you something too.” His eyes flicked up to yours, searching for consent in your eyes. You didn’t say anything. Then you whispered a question, the doubt in your mind creeping into your words.

“Yunho… you don’t have to give me anything-” Before you could continue, he pressed a finger to your lips to stop you from talking.

“Buh buh buh. Stop. This isn’t for you. Well, it is for you, but it's for me too. I want to. I want to take care of you like you take care of me, (Name).” Yunho’s hand landed on your upper thigh, gently kneading it like he was trying to ease the tension, keeping his eyes on yours.

“Is that okay?” The slow, gentle rub on your thigh was comforting, however, not calming in the least. The tendons in his hands flexed as he stroked his hand about the expanse of your leg. He stopped when your thigh tensed, resuming when you opened your mouth to speak.

“Yes.” barely there, in a whisper.

“Words, angel, use them please.” Yunho inched closer to you on the couch, his other hand coming around to cup the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his, his nose just barely brushing against yours.

His smell enveloped you, his bangs tickled your forehead as his staggering breath fanned against your lips. 

“Yes.” You spoke louder, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, testing the waters. “Please.” You expected Yunho to chase your lips, but instead, he just smiled and leaned back.

“I knew it.” Your heart stopped. What's he doing? 

“All this time since you moved in, I thought maybe I was a pervert.” He lifted his hand and gently pushed against your chest, urging you to lie on your back on the couch, your head on the armrest. He slowly crawled over on top of your body, one leg slotted between your thighs with his knee just barely brushing your core, his hands pressing against the couch by the sides of your head. He brought his face down to yours, space nonexistent between you two as his calm breaths mingled with your nervous ones.

His eyes locked on yours, shamelessly flicking to your lips every few seconds. “You’re always looking at my hands, baby. Do you like them?”

Your breath hitched, and embarrassment crept up your spine. Yeah, he had noticed. This wasn't a new fascination of yours. You had always been drawn to hands in a way, but his specifically. The long, nimble fingers, the prominent veins, and the sheer size of his palm. 

Teasingly, he brought his hand up to your face, twisting his wrist to give you a good view. Slowly, he moved his hand down against your throat, his fingertips brushing against the side of your neck softly, up and down, trailing along your collarbones and between your breasts, down until they reached the hem of your shirt.

You watched with bated breath as he teased the hem of your shirt, rubbing it between his fingers, slightly lifting it and letting it fall back down.

“Want me to take it off for you? Undressing you like a gift, yeah?” A quiet whimper slipped from the back of your throat. His hand slipped under your shirt, flattening his large, warm palm against your stomach and caressing your skin gently.

Agonizingly slow, he dragged his hand up, taking his time mapping out your body, his other hand quietly lifting to cup the back of your neck again, pulling your head up to press your forehead against his. His eyes never left you as you felt his calloused fingertips brush against the underside of your breast, tracing light patterns around your areolas so softly it almost tickled. Your stomach clenched at the touch, letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

“You're so soft, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. Can’t believe you're letting me..” His large hand cupped your breast, softly kneading the mound.

His fingers twilled the hair on the nape of your neck, occasionally squeezing the back of your neck reassuringly, like he wanted you to know that he had you. He's gonna take care of you.

“Can you whine for me, honey? I love your voice.” You didn't need to hear that, as he slipped his hand from under your shirt, lifting the hem until it sat under your chin.

“Arms up.” Breaking from your stupor, you lifted your arms as he dragged your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the dim living room. His eyes moved down and locked on your exposed breasts, your nipples hardening in response to the cold.

“There they are. So pretty.” Without warning, his lips crashed with yours, swallowing your whimpers while his hand found your breast again. Messy and slow, his tongue coaxing your lips open for him and slipping into your mouth. He moaned deep into you, his hand massaging your breast roughly as he lost himself in your mouth.

Every buck of his head he tried to push himself closer into you, like he was trying to melt into you, his lips relentless against you, sucking your plush bottom lip and nipping at your tongue teasingly.

Pulling away was hard for him; it almost hurt. He gave himself a moment to take you in. Swollen lips, blown pupils, and frizzy hair. A mess all for him.

His kisses trailed from the back of your ear down your neck and landed around your breasts. Kissing and soothingly running his tongue around them before latching onto your nipple. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, focused on the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your nipple.

Taking this opportunity, his other hand moved from behind your neck and landed on the waistband of your pants, undoing the buttons before slipping his hand past the waistband of your underwear.

Your eyes shot open again at the feeling of his finger tracing a slow deliberate line up your slit, gathering your wetness. You craned your neck to the side, draping your arm over your mouth and avoiding his hot gaze. Yunho clicked his tongue and with surprising ease let his finger press against your opening, sliding perfectly inside of you, his fingertip brushing against your G-spot softly.

“I’m gonna need you to look at me, baby, I can’t give you what you need if you aren't looking at me.” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you bit your bottom lip, ripping your arm away from your eyes and slowly focusing your eyes on him. And you almost wished you hadn’t.

His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, pupils blown and hair tousled all around his flushed face. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his hand disappearing between your legs, his cheek pressed up against your breast, his tongue lolling against it, tracing lazy patterns around your areola. His eyes took you in, like you were the most stunning thing he had laid eyes on, which was the truth.

His eyelids fluted before his lips wrapped around your nipple again, kissing, licking and sucking as he started dragging his finger inside of you, curling it just right in that way that made your breathing hitch and your eyes roll.

“Yu-, fuck…” He nipped at your nipple, immediately soothing it with his tongue and pulling off of you with a slick pop.

“I’m trying so hard to be respectful…” He ground out the words like talking hurt his throat. You were finding it hard to focus with the attention he was giving your body, perfectly pressing your buttons and winding you up like a toy. Easily slipping another finger inside your cunt, you let a groan out deep from your chest, turning him on impossibly more.

“But baby, fuck you’re making this so hard for me…” He let his mouth wrap around your other nipple, massaging your hip with his free hand as he sloppily licked you up like candy.

“So good- wish I could eat you all day. I do…” he moaned between kisses on your breasts, switching between suckling them and biting. “I do. I really fucking do…”

Yunho’s fingers press inside of you harder, coaxing you closer to your orgasm. Unbeknownst to you, he was grinding his rock hard cock against the cushion of the couch, desperately trying to ease the pain from how hard he was feeling you soak his fingers like a slut. Your eyes watered, and you were finding it hard to breathe as his long fingers reached spots you never could. You thought back on the times you’d sit on your bed, trying so hard to reach an earth-shattering climax, imagining his fingers fucking you instead of your own. Nothing could ever compare to the real thing.

“Fuck baby, cmon get up. On my lap.” Hazily, you watched as he slipped his fingers out of you, sitting on the couch, legs on the ground. Impatiently, his big hands engulfed each side of your waist and lifted your body with ease to sit on his lap. You bent your knees on either side of his thighs, his cock pressed against your wet cunt.

He craned his neck up to look at you, immediately slotting his lips with yours. Working in tandem, his mouth devoured yours, swallowing you up like he needed you to breathe. One hand cupping your neck and pressing you as close as he could, while the other kneaded the flesh of your ass like a stress toy.

Without thinking, eyes closed as you let him fuck your mouth with his tongue, your hand slipped between your intertwined bodies, fishing his dick from out of his pants, hot and heavy in your hand.

His breath stuttered between his kisses, but his lips never left yours as you wrapped your hand around the upper half, your thumb brushing against the slit on his swollen tip.

He bit your lip accidentally at the stimulation, pulling away from your lips finally to look down at your hand wrapped around him.

His breathing quickened, and his hips bucked, chasing more of your touch as you teasingly played with him. You kept your eyes on his face, watching his eyebrows twitch and his eyes shake.

“Baby, you handle me so f-fucking well…” His moans were quiet, but so loud in the silence of your shared home, the snow howling just outside. 

Your grip lowered, squeezing the base before dragging your hand up and down the length of him. His head lifted again, burying his nose in the crook of your neck, pressing desperate and wet open-mouth kisses on your collarbone, his barely contained whimpers falling against your heated skin.

“Off..” he groaned into you, but too lost in the feeling of him throbbing in your hand, you didn’t quite understand.

“H-huh?”

“Off, off- clothes off. ‘S so hot…” He shimmied underneath, shedding his shorts and nearly ripping his shirt off. 

He grabbed the base of his cock, urging you to lift your hips so he could press his tip against you.

“Nice and slow for me, sweet girl, sit on it. Take your time, don’t wanna hurt yourself…” His eyes locked with yours as you complied with his request, slowly letting your hips sink down on him.

When his tip pressed in, that stupid, lazy boyish smile of his spread across his face, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyebrows cinched, focused on feeling you take him in like he was meant for you.

“There you go, slow… good, mmm, good fucking girl (Name.)” Your breath caught as you continued to lower your hips down onto him. Bottoming out with a groan, your hands gripped his shoulder, your nails digging into the blades.

You both sat there for a second, relishing the intimate feeling of just being connected. Your breaths mingled, and your thighs shook, his hands massaging your waist, squeezing your hips every time they slid back down.

When Yunho finally spoke, it was strained and so quiet you almost couldn’t hear it.

“Rock your hips. Grind on me pretty, take what you need from me. Make yourself feel good.” 

You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut, moving your hands to cradle his head. Cautiously testing the waters, you rolled your hips forward, his tip perfectly dragging against that sweet spot deep in your tummy. The moan you let out was borderline pornographic; nobody had ever been so deep in you, and the fact that it was Yunho was so overwhelming.

“Oh god…” You moaned, pressing your lips into his hair, gasping and whining into the soft locks. His hands gripped your hips and helped you move, pushing and pulling you, moving you back and forth on his cock.

“That's it… fuck, always knew you’d take me so well. Like me all in your guts baby, huh?” You nod against him, your breath hitching when he lifted you so you slid up his cock and back down. Effectivley using your body to fuck himself into you.

“Don't stop, keep rolling those hips, angel, do not stop.” His hand came up and gripped your throat, maneuvering your head down so he could kiss you again, groaning into your mouth as you did into his as he fucked you up and down on his cock, your hips contining to grind. With every thrust and every flick of his tongue, his fat tip constantly dragged against that spongy spot inside of you.

A smug laugh slipped past his lips as he watched how desperate you were to feel good, and he was feeling really good about himself as he watched you lose yourself on him.

“Yeah, ride it, baby, ride it…” He bucked his hips, smiling wider when your back went taught feeling the pressure inside of you, as he continued to fuck himself into you slowly, dragging your pleasure out as much as he could.

“This is all for you, for being so good to me all these months, for always being so fucking s-sweet and taking care of me…” He thrusted harder with every other word, like he was enunciating how much this meant to him.

“Thank you Yu- fuck, you’re so big thank you ngh..” He nipped at your bottom lip, giving your throat one more squeeze before moving his hand back down to your hips and forcing your hips to bounce on him a little faster.

“My pretty baby takes dick so well. I regret not fucking you sooner, coulda’ had this pussy a longgg time ago.”  Yunho let his finger slip to your clit, rubbing in pressurized circles, dragging the sweetest noises from you.

You opened your mouth, trying to speak, but all that came out were strangled moans and staggering breaths. Yunho understood, though, pressing his lips against yours again.

“Cumming baby?” He whispered into your mouth, smiling when you nodded, unable to speak, too busy focusing on your impending orgasm. “Good, let go. Feel it and let go for me.”

Like the obedient slut you were for him, your spine straightened and you gasped, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking train, shotting from your toes and electrifying your body like you had been shocked, up through your stomach to your brain, making you lightheaded.

When he felt you cum, his hips stuttered in you feeling you clench like a vice and began to speed up. “Yeah, yeah, yeah- good girl, let me fuck you through it, let me get you through it.”

And thats exactly what he did, without letting up the pace, Yunho fucked into you without abandon, the slap of skin on skin echoing around the living room, mixing with your broken whines and his concentrated groans as he made you fall apart like shattered glass around his dick.

“T-too much–!’ you cried when he continued to bully inside you, his fingers still not letting up on your overstimulated clit. “Gonna c-cum again, Yunho!”

Yunho felt himself reaching his peak, but he would do anything to get you to cum again. With newfound rigor, he rolled his hips into you rough, meanly kissing you and sucking your tongue like he was searching for water.

“Again, angel, again. You can do it.” He moaned loudly into your mouth, his fingers opting to rub your clit slower, this time pushing upward, the pressure increasing tenfold.

Yunho twitched inside of you, feeling as you toppled over the edge again, the second orgasm so much more intense than the first. You couldn't breath, cumming two times so close together. Your thighs burned, and your head spun, vision blurring for a second.

Yunho groaned loudly, bucking his hips a few final times before spilling himself inside of you, continuing to roll his hips into you, riding both of your climaxes out.

You slumped onto him, hands at your side as you regained your breath, thighs sticky, and your body stuck to his. Yunho kissed along your shoulder, allowing you to regain your senses as he came down from his high as well.

Slowly, when you were finally breathing normal, he grabbed your waist and lifted you off of him, sighing as he watched his cock slip out of you, placing you back on the couch.

“Don’t move, I'm gonna go grab a rag.” Yunho stood up and walked down the hallway towards the bedroom. He came back a few seconds later, wearing a pair of sweatpants and carrying a black t-shirt, a pair of underwear, and a wet rag.

He sat down on the floor and gently grabbed your ankles to move your legs to face him, spreading them so he could clean between your thighs. He wiped the cold rag along your inner thighs and cleaned you well, before slipping the pair of underwear over your ankles and up around your hips.

“Here, put this on, it might get cold in here again since we’re not fucking like rabbits anymore.” You both laughed as he handed you the t-shirt. You brought it up to your face, inhaling. It was his, and it smelled like him. You felt fuzzy as you slipped it over your head, smiling when you looked down at him.

He was gazing up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, his hands rubbing absentmindedly along your calves, soothing your aching muscles and placing gentle kisses on your ankles, and up your leg to your knee.

“How are you feeling (Name)?” He waited for your response, his hand never ceasing the gentle massaging.

“Do I even need to say?” You smiled at him, and he smiled back, moving to sit next to you on the couch.

“Guess not, moaned loud enough to wake the neighbors.” Instinctively, you smacked his shoulder in disbelief before the words settled in.

Your smile fell, and a worried look crossed your face. “Was I actually?” He let out a hoot of laughter at your reaction.

“I was joking but you were pretty damn loud. It's okay though, cuz you sounded so pretty.” Yunho kissed along your neck, smiling when you twitched from the tickling feeling.

Suddenly, you remembered the dinner that was still in the kitchen, and you stood up and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Come on Yu, I'm fucking starving and you made me forget I made dinner.” Yunho chuckled and stood up, following you to the kitchen to make himself a bowl.

With your food in hand, you sat on the couch together, with you lying between his legs, the back of your head lying against his chest as you ate together. The snow fell quietly, and the TV droned in the background as you basked in each other's presence.

“Does this mean you’ll come out of your man cave more now?” Yunho scowled at you and playfully flicked your forehead.

“Don't get smart with me, young lady…” he paused and smiled. 

“Of course, gotta give my girl the attention she deserves, right?”

[mingi-s-dimples]

Brand Me - J.YH

"YUNHO"

pairing: yunho x fem reader

genre: 18+, filth, bdsm

summary: your little altercation with yunho ends up really interesting... him testing his own techniques and you being marked.. entirely.

wc: 6.3k

warnings: mafia au, dom sub dynamic, yunho is ruthless, a lot of cnc moments, mention of safe word "red" but never used (was tested multiple times and said green), knife play, blood play, carving, restraints, bondage, choking, impact play, humiliation, degradation (slut, brat, pathetic, filthy little thing), begging, overstim, orgasm denial, use of toys (vibrator), forced submission (consensual), powerlessness kink, cumplay, cum eating, praise kink, size kink, biting, lots of manhandling, just a lil slight stockholm syndrome (i initially wanted to omit adding this but i feel like anything that feels i should warn about should be added), obsession/possessive, breeding kink, way too many rounds, predator/prey dynamic, rough sex, captivity, fear kink, sadomasochism, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!!), COMPLETELY consensual despite everything!!!!, for sure forgot sth, might edit later.

Author's Note: omfg omfg omfg it's happening i am posting this is not a joke i posted 😭😭😭 fuck my life i have been trying to post this for the past few days and i just have not had time to finish proof reading it and everything i am so sorry, but at least i posted! fear no more i am back i promise i ll post more often 🫶🏼 i am on summer vacay now so i have a lot of ideas 🙈 cannot wait to write everything and post emmm i missed you guys so much 😭🩷

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The room smelled of expensive whiskey and gunpowder. Low-lit chandeliers cast golden hues over the mahogany desk where Jung Yunho sat, sleeves rolled up, fingers tapping impatiently against the polished wood. A black vest hugged his torso, the tie at his neck perfectly in place despite the chaos surrounding him. Leather harnesses wrapped over his broad shoulders, an unspoken warning of the weapons he always carried.

And now, here you were, standing before him, wrists still red from the fight you put up when his men dragged you into his den.

"You look like hell," Yunho remarked, voice slow, deepmocking. His dark eyes roamed over you, unreadable, calculating.

"You should see the other guy," you shot back, refusing to show weakness.

That earned you a smirk. Yunho leaned forward, elbows on his desk, fingers steepled as he studied you like a predator sizing up its prey. "You’re out of options, princess. Your father’s dead. Your people are either dead or scattered. And now, you’re standing in my territory."

You hated the way his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Hated the way he looked at you like he already owned you.

"I didn’t come here to beg," you spat, straightening your shoulders.

"No," Yunho mused, standing slowly. He adjusted his cuffs, the leather straps over his chest flexing as he moved. He was all hard lines, power, and authority, a man who had never been denied anything in his life. "You came here because you need me. And I don’t do charity."

Your heart pounded as he stepped closer, heat radiating from his body.

"So tell me, sweetheart," he murmured, lifting your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. "How badly do you want my help?”

Yunho’s grip on your chin was firm, his fingers warm against your skin. His dark eyes bore into yours, but you refused to look away. If he wanted you to submit, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

"You’re awfully quiet," he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "Finally learning your place?"

You let out a low laugh, rolling your eyes. "Please. If you really wanted me gone, you would’ve put a bullet in my head the second your men dragged me in here."

His jaw tightened.

Bingo.

You smirked, pressing on. "But you didn’t. And you won’t." You leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something sickly sweet. "Because you like having me here, don’t you, Yunho?"

His fingers twitched, a flicker of something flashing through his gaze. Annoyance? Amusement? Lust? Probably all three.

"I keep you alive because you’re useful," he said smoothly, but there was an edge to his voice now.

You tsked, shaking your head. "Liar."

Yunho’s expression darkened. "Careful, princess."

"Or what?" You leaned back against the desk, tilting your head at him mockingly. "You’ll kill me? You won’t. You like me too much."

The air was thick with tension, his patience clearly thinning by the second. You knew you were pushing him, knew you were dancing on a razor’s edge, but god, the way his jaw clenched? The way his hands flexed, like he was seconds away from snapping? It was intoxicating.

And then, in a blink, he moved.

Before you could react, Yunho grabbed you by the waist, lifting you like you weighed nothing and slamming you onto the desk. Papers and whiskey glasses clattered to the floor as you let out a sharp gasp, your back pressing against the cool wood.

He loomed over you, his harnesses and tie still perfectly in place, like a demon wrapped in fine silk and steel.

"You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?" he muttered, voice low, dangerous.

You smirked up at him, breathing uneven. "Make me."

His eyes darkened. "Don’t tempt me, sweetheart."

The desk was cold beneath you, but Yunho’s body was burning. His grip was tightone large hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your hip, holding you in place like you might try to run. Not that you would.

Not when his eyes were fixed on you like that.

Like he was deciding what to do with you.

"You don’t know what you’re playing with, princess," Yunho murmured, his thumb grazing your hip, just enough pressure to remind you that he was in control.

You smirked, pretending the way he had you pinned didn’t make your breath hitch. "Ohhh, so this is your thing," you teased, tilting your head. "All that control, all that dominancewhat, you like tying people up, too?"

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. "I do more than just tie them up."

Your lips parted slightly. His voice had dropped lower, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t embarrassed. He wasn’t denying it. No, Yunho was owning it.

"You think this is a joke," he said, studying your face. "But this is who I am. This is what I do." His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns against your thigh. "And I want to use that on you."

Your stomach flipped, a shiver running down your spine. "Oh?" You arched a brow, keeping your voice light. "And what if I say no?"

He smirked. "Then I walk away."

A pause.

"But," he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin, "we both know you’re curious."

Damn it. He wasn’t wrong.

Your pulse thundered as he straightened up, his hand finally leaving your body, only to reach into the drawer of his desk. He pulled out a black silk tie, letting it drape between his fingers.

"You wanna keep acting like a brat? Fine." His voice was smooth, dangerous. "But if you want to play in my world, you play by my rules."

You swallowed hard. "Your rules?"

He stepped closer, towering over you, his presence suffocating. "First rule: I don’t do anything without a safe word."

Your breath caught. "Oh. So this is"

"Yeah, this is real," Yunho cut in, his voice firm. "This isn’t just about control, sweetheart. This is about trust." His fingers curled under your chin, forcing you to look at him. "And I want to hear your safe word."

Your lips parted, but no words came out at first. He was giving you a choice. Giving you control while making it clear that if you stepped into his world, he wouldn’t hold back.

You exhaled. "Red."

Yunho’s eyes darkened.

"Good girl," he murmured, smirking.

Then he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head, and leaned down until his lips were just barely brushing your ear.

"Now let’s see if you remember to use it."

The weight of Yunho’s body pressed you into the desk, his hands keeping you caged beneath him. He still hadn’t let go of your wrists, fingers wrapped tight around them like a silent warning.

"You’ve been such a pain in my ass," he muttered, his voice low, rough, dripping with irritation and something else.

Something dark. Something dangerous.

You smirked, breathless. "Yet you still won’t let me go."

Yunho’s grip tightened. His patience had run out.

With a sharp tug, he yanked you up from the desk, before slamming your back again against the cold wood. You gasped, but the sound barely left your lips before his hands were on your clothes tearing, pulling, taking.

Fabric ripped like it was nothing in his grasp. Your shirt, your bragone in seconds. His rough palms grazed over your bare skin, and the heat in his touch sent a shiver racing down your spine.

"Look at you," he murmured, eyes dark and hungry as he took you in. "All that attitude, all that fucking resistance" His hand traced up your thigh, fingers toying with the waistband of your underwear. "And now you’re right where you belong."

Your breath hitched. "Cocky bastard."

Yunho chuckled, but it wasn’t warm. It was cruel.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured. "You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into."

Before you could respond, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head again. With his free hand, he reached into his pocket, pulling out something sleek and black.

A knife.

Your stomach flipped.

The cool blade pressed against your hip, tracing slow, deliberate lines over your skinnot cutting, just threatening.

Your breath caught. "You wouldn’t"

"Wouldn’t I?" Yunho smirked. "I told youI don’t do anything without a safe word." He leaned in, lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Use it if you need to."

You stayed silent. A challenge.

Yunho laughed.

"Good girl," he praised.

His hands were everywhere gripping, pressing, controlling. The knife sliced through your underwear with a clean flick of his wrist, the fabric falling away like nothing. He didn’t undress himself. Didn’t even loosen his tie. No, he liked keeping himself put together, liked the contrast of him being fully clothed while you were completely bare beneath him.

His dominance was suffocating. Overpowering.

He wrapped a hand around your throat, not squeezing, just enough to remind you who was in charge. "You’re mine," he murmured. "And I’m going to ruin you."

Yunho was a man of his word.

The moment those words left his lips, he moved with the kind of precision that only came from years of control, measured, calculated, unyielding. In a matter of seconds, you were flipped onto your stomach, your cheek pressing against the polished mahogany desk. The cool surface burned against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of Yunho’s body hovering over you.

You barely had time to breathe before he reached with practiced ease, he grasped your wrists, pulling them behind your back and tying them together, tight enough to keep you restrained, loose enough to allow just a hint of movement. You tugged instinctively, testing the hold, but it was no use. The knot was secure.

"Perfect," Yunho muttered under his breath, running a slow, deliberate hand down your arm before reaching into the desk drawer.

The soft rustle of fabric told you what was coming next, but the blindfold still startled you when it brushed over your skin. The silk was cool as he wrapped it around your head, plunging you into darkness. Your other senses sharpened instantly, his breath against your ear, the slight creak of the leather harnesses straining over his broad shoulders as he adjusted his stance.

"You act so fucking tough," he mused, his tone carrying that same infuriating mix of amusement and condescension. "But look at you now."

You inhaled sharply, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Yunho chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the power shift. He stepped away for a moment, the absence of his warmth making your skin prickle. The sound of something metallic clicking open had your stomach tightening. Before anything, he pulled you up, your back once again on the desk, and as he moved your tied hands above your head, he traced his hand on your waist.

The smooth, stainless steel of his knife kissed the bare skin of your thigh, tracing slow, teasing lines upward. He wasn’t cutting, just reminding you of what he could do. What he would do if he wanted.

Your breath hitched.

"You like this," he murmured, voice thick with realization. "You like being at my mercy."

You bit your lip, refusing to confirm it. But you didn’t need to. Yunho already knew. And he was about to take full advantage of it.

The knife left your skin, and a moment later, you felt the unmistakable sensation of fabric tightening against your leg, soft straps being secured high on your thigh. Your body tensed as you realized what he was doing.

A vibrator.

Tied directly to your clit.

"Yunho"

A flick of his fingers and pleasure jolted through you like a live wire. Your back arched off the desk, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as the vibrations settled into a torturous, pulsing rhythm, just strong enough to make your toes curl, just weak enough to leave you wanting more.

Yunho pressed a firm hand against your lower belly, keeping you pinned in place. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured. "We're just getting started."

The blindfold made everything worse. You couldn’t see him, couldn’t predict his next move. All you could do was feel.

Feel the teasing pulse between your legs.

Feel the way his hands roamed over your body, barely touching where you needed him most.

Feel the sharp edge of his knife as it returned to your skin, this time pressing just a little deeper.

Not enough to break the surface. Just enough to sting.

Your breath stuttered, but your body welcomed the sensation. Yunho noticed.

"Filthy little thing," he muttered, dragging the blade up your side, over the curve of your ribs. "You should see yourself right now. Wrists tied, legs shaking, pussy already clenching around nothing."

You whimpered. Fuck. Fuck. You were losing this battle, and he knew it.

"You wanted to act tough." His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, a cruel smirk in his voice. "Now beg."

Your pride told you not to.

Your body told you otherwise.

You swallowed thickly, fingers clenching into fists above you. "No."

Yunho sighed, the sound almost disappointed. "Wrong answer."

The vibrations cut out completely.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Yunho"

"Now you really want it, don’t you?"

You bit your lip so hard it almost hurt. The frustration, the denial, it was driving you insane. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. And he was just standing there, watching, waiting.

A sharp, stinging drag of the knife against your thigh made you jolt, the delicious bite of pain sending heat straight to your core.

A breathy moan escaped before you could stop it.

Yunho laughed.

"Oh, sweetheart," he purred, lips brushing against your temple. "You're so easy to break."

The worst part?

You loved every second of it.

Yunho didn’t waste time. The blade glided over your skin, cool, sharp, and deliberate. He dragged it down the inside of your thigh, enough to make your breath stutter. The contrast between the cold metal and his burning touch sent a violent shiver up your spine.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, smirking as he pressed the flat of the blade against your hip. “Already scared?”

You swallowed hard, refusing to give him that satisfaction. “No.”

Yunho chuckled darkly. “You will be.”

Without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach, your chest pressed against the cool wood of his desk, your hands behind you.

“Spread.” His voice was an order, leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated.

A sharp smack landed on the curve of your ass, making you jolt.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Heat rushed through your body, humiliation and arousal tangled together in a way that made you dizzy. Slowly, you parted your legs, your face pressed against the desk.

“Good girl.”

The praise sent another wave of heat through you, but it was short-lived. Yunho pressed the cold blade against your inner thigh, this time dragging it up, up, up until the tip of it barely grazed over the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. It was almost embarrassing how you were spread in front of him, back arched and your pussy full on display.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips, your body tensing.

“You trust me, don’t you?” His voice was velvety smooth, dark and rich like the whiskey he always drank.

You nodded, barely able to breathe.

“Use your words.”

“Yes.” Your voice came out softer than you intended.

“Then hold still.”

The knife didn’t cut. Yunho knew exactly what he was doing, using the blunt edge to tease, to torment, to keep you right on that knife’s edge between fear and pleasure. You trembled beneath him, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation.

And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled the knife away and replaced it with something else, a vibrator.

You barely had time to react before he pressed the toy firmly against your clit, securing it against your leg again with another strip of leather. The sensation was instant, intense, overwhelming. Your bound wrists clenched behind your back as you gasped, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core.

“Too much?” Yunho taunted, fingers digging into your hips as he held you in place. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You were so mouthy a minute ago.”

You whimpered, your body already betraying you. The constant, relentless stimulation had your thighs trembling, your back arching.

Yunho leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “Don’t come until I say.”

Your breath hitched.

He wasn’t going to let you go easy.

For what felt like an eternity, he watched as you writhed, as your body betrayed you, as the pleasure built higher and higher until you were right on the edge.

And then he stopped it.

The vibrator shut off in an instant. The sudden loss made you gasp, frustration pooling in your gut.

“No” The word slipped out before you could stop it.

Yunho smirked, standing back to admire the wrecked sight of you. “Oh, princess,” he murmured, voice dripping with cruel amusement. “You didn’t actually think I’d let you come that easily, did you?”

A desperate whimper left your lips. Your thighs clenched involuntarily, trying to chase the pleasure he had so cruelly ripped away.

Yunho clicked his tongue. “Pathetic,” he mused. “Look at you already shaking, already desperate.”

He let a beat of silence pass before grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him. His grip was firm, possessive.

“Beg.”

You swallowed hard, pride battling with need.

But you were already too far gone.

“Please.” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Please what?”

Your face burned, humiliation and arousal twisting together into something unbearable. “Please let me come.”

Yunho hummed, tilting his head as if considering it. “I don’t know,” he said mockingly. “Have you really earned it?”

You bit your lip. “II’ll do anything.”

His eyes darkened with satisfaction.

“I know you will.”

Then without warning he turned the vibrator back on, cranking it up to the highest setting.

A sharp cry tore from your throat.

“Let’s see how long you last.”.

Your body trembled violently, your wrists still bound behind your back as the relentless vibrations drove you to the brink of insanity. Your thighs ached from how hard they trembled, your breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. You were so close so unbearably close.

And then he shut it off.

Again.

A strangled cry ripped from your throat, frustration coiling in your gut like a wildfire. “Fucking bastard”

The second the words left your lips, you regretted them.

Yunho went still.

The air in the room turned suffocating. Slowly, his fingers curled around your jaw, his grip tight. His eyes were unreadable, his mouth set in a hard line.

“What,” he said, voice deceptively calm, “the fuck did you just say?”

You barely had time to breathe before he moved.

In one fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back, your bound wrists pressing against the cool wood beneath you. His movements were fast, effortless like he had been waiting for an excuse.

Your breath hitched as he leaned over you, his sheer size overwhelming. The harnesses strapped around his torso only accentuated how broad he was, how powerful. He made you feel small.

And he knew it.

“I let you run your mouth,” Yunho growled, his hand wrapping around your throat tight, firm enough to make you whimper. “I let you whine and beg.”

His free hand went to his belt, unbuckling it in one swift motion.

“But you just had to push me, didn’t you?”

You swallowed hard, heart hammering. His eyes burned into you, dark and unrelenting.

Yunho yanked his belt free, tossing it aside carelessly before popping the button of his pants. He didn’t even bother taking them offjust shoved the zipper down far enough to free himself.

His cock was already hard, thick, and leaking.

Your eyes widened at the sheer size.

He grinned. “Oh, now you’re quiet?”

Your thighs instinctively tried to clamp shut, but his hand was there gripping your inner thigh, forcing them apart.

“Don’t fucking hide from me now,” he muttered, dragging his cock along your soaked folds. “Not when you were so goddamn mouthy a second ago.”

A strangled moan left your lips as he teased you, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance but not pushing in.

It was pure torture.

You squirmed, tugging at your bound wrists. “Please”

Yunho laughed a low, dark sound.

“Please?” He mocked. “That’s funny.”

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

“Because just a second ago, you were calling me a fucking bastard.”

His fingers tightened around your throat as he snapped his hips forward.

A choked gasp tore from you as he filled you in one brutal thrust, stretching you open without warning.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Yunho sneered, his cock buried deep. His harnesses dug into his chest as he loomed over you, unrelenting. “To get ruined?”

Your walls fluttered around him, your body struggling to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

But Yunho had no patience left.

He didn’t wait.

He didn’t ease you into it.

He just fucked.

The desk beneath you creaked with every brutal thrust, the edge digging into your skin. His fingers never left your throat, his grip just tight enough to keep you trapped. His other hand gripped your thigh, keeping you spread wide open as he wrecked you.

Your moans turned into desperate, broken cries, the pleasure too much, too intense.

Yunho was feral, his hips slamming against yours, his cock filling you over and over with brutal precision.

“Bet you don’t have anything to fucking say now,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you don’t even remember what you called me.”

Your mind was gone spinning, drowning in sensation.

You couldn’t even breathe, let alone respond.

Yunho chuckled darkly, his fingers sliding down to your clit. “That’s what I thought.”

Then, without warning he pressed the vibrator back against you.

A sharp scream ripped from your throat.

You were done for.

And Yunho didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow down.

If anything, the moment he pressed the vibrator back against you, he fucked you harder.

Your body convulsed, overstimulation hitting you like a truck. You sobbed desperately, overwhelmed, but Yunho was merciless.

“Feel that?” His voice was low, dangerous. “That’s what happens when you run your fucking mouth.”

Your vision blurred as pleasure ravaged you, his cock hitting deep with every brutal thrust. His fingers dug into your thigh, keeping you spread wide, giving you no escape.

The desk shook beneath you. His harnesses dug into his chest, highlighting every flex of his muscles as he ruined you.

Your throat ached from how hard you whimpered, your hands still bound behind your back. You had nowhere to go nothing to do but take it.

“Look at you,” Yunho murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “So fucking wrecked.”

His free hand reached to the side, grabbing something off the desk. You barely registered what it was until you heard the soft, unmistakable sound of a blade unsheathing.

Your breath hitched.

Yunho chuckled darkly, dragging the flat side of his knife along your trembling stomach.

“Mhm, that got your attention.”

You shuddered, nerves on fire. His pace never faltered, his cock still slamming into you, fucking you open with every thrust.

The blade trailed lower.

“Keep still.” His tone was sharp, commanding. “Unless you want me to slip.”

You whimpered.

Slowly, he pressed the cold edge against your thigh not enough to cut, just enough.

Enough to remind you who was in control.

“You’ve been such a fucking brat tonight.” His voice was pure sin. “Maybe I should leave you a little something to remember who you belong to.”

The blade pressed just a bit harder.

Your entire body tensed.

“You’d look so fucking pretty marked up,” Yunho murmured, watching the way you trembled beneath him.

Your walls clenched tight around him.

Yunho groaned, his hand gripping your throat as he snapped his hips forward. “Oh, you like that?”

You moaned a choked, desperate sound.

He laughed.

“You’re fucking unreal.”

The blade dragged up your stomach, up to your chest, circling your collarbone. Yunho’s eyes devoured the sight of you, your flushed skin, your tear-streaked face, your trembling form beneath him.

Then, with no warning, he bit down on your throat.

Hard.

A sharp cry tore from your lips, the pain blooming into something deep and overwhelming.

Yunho groaned against your skin, his hips stuttering for the first time. “Fuck.”

His grip on your throat tightened just enough to make you dizzy.

“You love when I ruin you.”

His thrusts turned ruthless, merciless, fucking you into oblivion as the blade traced the curve of your breast.

“You’re mine,” Yunho growled. “And I’m gonna make sure you never forget it.”

Your scream cracked in your throat, raw, high-pitched, your body twitching with every brutal thrust.

But Yunho didn’t let up. Didn’t ease.

He was relentless.

His cock slammed into you again and again, forcing you forward over the desk, your bound hands useless behind your back. You were shaking, drenched, aching, overstimulated to the edge of blacking out and he was still fucking you like he hated you.

"Open your fucking eyes."

You tried. Failed.

A sharp slap to your cheek jolted you back, and his hand gripped your jaw tight.

“I said look at me. You don’t get to hide from this.”

You blinked up through wet lashes, wrecked and broken apart.

Yunho was watching you like a predator. His mouth curled into something wicked, feral, as he reached to the desk and pulled the knife again.

“Color.”

You sobbed out, “Green… green, Yunho, please”

“Good,” he hissed. “Now shut the fuck up and take it.”

The flat of the blade slapped against your thigh.

Then, sting.

He cut.

A shallow, clean slice, right across your upper thigh, red blooming instantly, a bright warning, a claim.

You choked out a cry, pain, pleasure, terror mixing like poison in your veins and Yunho moaned like he’d just tasted heaven.

“That’s right. That’s mine now.”

He fucked into you harder, slamming you down against the desk so you bounced with each thrust, your skin slick with sweat and arousal, the room echoing with your gasps and the sound of skin pounding skin.

“You wanna act like a brat?” he snarled. “Then I’ll ruin you like one.”

The blade dragged up your belly. Cold. Sharp. Tempting.

He stopped just beneath your breast. The edge bit down again.

Another mark.

You screamed, legs buckling.

He caught you, one hand on your throat now, squeezing just enough to make your world narrow.

“Color,” he demanded again, voice almost desperate with need.

“Green, green… fuck, don’t stop”

Yunho’s eyes burned.

He leaned down, mouth brushing your ear. “Then I’m carving my name into you.”

The knife traced your collarbone. Your breath hitched frozen, trembling.

He cut again.

Not deep but deliberate.

You felt it. You felt everything.

Your orgasm slammed into you without warning violent, white-hot, a full-body convulsion that tore a scream from your lungs.

Yunho didn’t stop.

He grunted, pace turning animalistic, fucking you through it with savage, punishing thrusts as you shook beneath him.

"You fucking come from being cut, huh?” he growled. “You want everyone to see you like this ruined, dripping, marked the fuck up and leaking my cum down your thighs.”

You sobbed.

He grinned, something vicious.

Then he grabbed your hair, yanked your head back, and bit down hard on your throat, his teeth sinking in until you wailed.

“Say it,” he growled against your skin. “Say who you belong to.”

“You, you, Yunho!”

“That’s fucking right.”

He slammed into you one more time, deep, rough, brutal and stayed there, buried to the hilt as he came, his hand still around your throat, his name carved into your skin.

You barely registered the way he collapsed against you, panting, the knife clattering to the side.

Your vision blurred. Your body was a mess. Your soul was somewhere far, far away.

But you’d never felt more owned.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t need to.

Yunho lifted you off the desk like you weighed nothing, your legs still shaking from the last orgasm he ripped out of you. His grip was iron. Possessive. Like he was afraid you’d slip away before he finished what he started.

But he wasn’t done with you.

Not even close.

He kicked the dorm door shut behind him with one boot and threw you down on his bed face first. The coolness of his sheets brushed your cheek, but before you could even breathe, his hands were on your back, holding you down.

“You’re not moving,” he growled. “Not an inch. You want to be mine? Then stay still and take it.”

The restraints came next, he kept them under his pillow. Black, thick, unforgiving.

Your wrists were the first to go pulled up, crossed, and strapped to the headboard above you.

Then your ankles.

Forced apart. Spread wide and bound to the bedposts, legs splayed so far you could barely twitch without exposing every inch of yourself.

Face down. Ass up. Totally helpless.

A moan slipped out of you, raw, needy.

Yunho chuckled darkly behind you. “You love being fucked like this, don’t you?”

You whimpered.

“Color,” he said, suddenly sharp.

“Green,” you gasped. “So fucking green.”

His reply was a low, guttural sound something between a growl and a groan. Then the mattress shifted as he climbed on, straddling the backs of your thighs.

And then came the blade.

Cold. Beautiful.

He dragged the flat of it along your spine, up to your shoulder blades, then down slow and deliberate, tracing every curve. You shivered, arching slightly in your binds, trying to chase the blade like a lover.

“Look at you,” he whispered, admiring. “Tied up. Bleeding. Open. And still aching for more.”

Then, softly: “You want my name on you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please put it on me. Claim me.”

Yunho leaned down. You felt his breath first, hot against your lower backthen the point of the knife.

Right above the swell of your ass.

His name.

He carved it.

Y-U-N-H-O.

The pain bloomed sharp and blinding, thin lines of fire across your skin and you screamed into the sheets, your body twitching in the restraints. You couldn't move. Couldn’t escape but you didn’t want to.

You wanted this.

You wanted him.

And he knew it.

“That’s it,” he rasped, staring at the blood welling from the letters. “You’re mine now.”

He licked it.

Tongue slow, reverent, dragging over the fresh cuts like a fucking blessing. He groaned as he tasted you, hips grinding against the backs of your thighs. You felt the weight of his cock, hard, heavy pressing into your skin, throbbing.

Then he pulled back. You couldn’t see him but you could hear it.

The wet sounds of him stroking his cock behind you fast, desperate, obsessed.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You tried to move, wanted to push back into him but the restraints held you down. All you could do was moan.

“Look at you,” Yunho snarled. “Tied up. Cut. Bleeding. Still begging for me.”

Then he grabbed your hips, lined himself up

And slammed into you.

The force knocked the breath out of you. His cock filled you deep in one brutal thrust, making your vision go white.

You screamed and he didn’t stop.

Yunho fucked you hard, deep, merciless. the bed slamming against the wall with every thrust, your body shoved forward, only to be yanked back by the tight restraints.

You were shaking, drooling, ruined and he hadn’t even finished.

“Fucking take it,” he grunted, voice feral. “You wanted to be mine, huh?”

You clenched around him. Cried out.

Yunho hissed, then leaned down and bit your shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise.

“I want it leaking out of you,” he snarled. “I want you walking around tomorrow with my cum dripping down your thighs and my name carved into your fucking skin.”

Your orgasm ripped through you violent, brutal, endless.

And Yunho wasn’t far behind.

He drove in one last time, burying himself as deep as he could and came, cock twitching, load spilling inside you as he groaned your name into your neck.

You were shaking beneath him, body used, wrecked, owned.

And Yunho just laid there.

Breathing hard. Covered in sweat. His cock still buried in you. His name still bleeding above your ass.

The ropes creaked as Yunho untied you slowly, deliberately, like each knot was a privilege to undo. Your limbs trembled from restraint, skin raw from rope-burn and blade, but the second he flipped you onto your back, you knew it wasn’t mercy.

It was a reset.

A new game.

Your wrists barely hit the sheets before he pinned them again this time with his hands, wrists shoved over your head, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His eyes devoured you, bloodied, marked, glowing with sweat and surrender.

And he smiled like he’d never seen anything so perfect.

“You’re not done,” he whispered, breath hot against your throat. “You don’t get to be done. Not until I say so.”

Then he slid inside you again.

Slow, controlled.

But deep.

So deep you gasped.

Missionary wasn’t gentle. Not with him. Not like this. Not when his name was still bleeding above the curve of your spine. Not when his hips ground into yours with an ache that felt more like branding than fucking.

His hands pinned your wrists. His mouth claimed your neck. His body owned you.

But his eyes, his eyes never left your face.

"You're gonna take every drop of this," Yunho rasped, cock driving deeper, "and you're gonna thank me for filling you up."

Your legs wrapped around him instinctively pulling him closer, grounding yourself against the force of every brutal thrust. You could feel how close he was. The way his breath caught. The way his rhythm started to unravel.

And then

You shattered.

Tightened around him, body convulsing as your climax dragged him down with you. He groaned, buried to the hilt, and spilled himself inside you with a growl that sounded like a promise.

Like a claim.

But Yunho didn’t move.

Not at first.

Instead, he watched the way your chest rose and fell beneath him. Watched the sweat and blood and come drip down your thighs.

Then he pulled out slow, deliberate and dragged two fingers between your legs, scooping up the thick mix of your pleasure and his. The evidence of your ruin.

You whimpered, overstimulated, but he only smiled.

And then he fed it to you.

Pressed his fingers against your lips.

“Open.”

You obeyed.

You always obeyed.

He pushed the mess into your mouth, slow and deep, rubbing it across your tongue as he whispered:

“Only good sluts get filled.”

His fingers smeared what was left across your lips, your cheek, your chest, marking you again, not with a blade this time, but with the aftermath. With the filth of your shared pleasure.

You were trembling.

Used.

Loved.

Owned.

And Yunho, still hovering over you, smiled like he could tear the world apart just to see you like this again.

-

You don’t remember the exact moment it shifted.

One breath, you were pinned and filled and marked, his body over yours, cock still twitching with the last pulses of release. The next, he was easing off of you with a care that felt almost unreal after what he’d just done.

Yunho moved slowly.

Like you might break.

His fingers, those same fingers that had just shoved your own cum into your mouth, now brushed hair from your eyes. They shook, just a little, as he unfastened the last loop of leather from your wrist.

“You still with me?” he asked, voice rough around the edges.

You blinked, nodded, your throat dry and aching. “Yeah.”

“Color?”

You smiled, lips sticky. “Still not red.”

He huffed something between a scoff and a laugh as he reached for a warm towel, already prepped on the nightstand. Of course he’d planned ahead.

“Cocky little brat,” he muttered, kneeling between your thighs. “Next time, I’m gonna make you say it.”

“Promise?” you whispered, dazed but defiant.

He looked up at you, lips twitching. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s not a promise. That’s a threat.”

You winced slightly as he dabbed at the cuts on your thigh, his thumb gentle as he steadied your leg. The blood was already drying at the edges, but he cleaned every one. Your stomach. Your collarbone. The mark above your ass, his name, still fresh and angry-looking.

He lingered there.

Fingertips brushing your skin, slow. “Too much?”

“No,” you said softly. “Not even close.”

He leaned forward, kissed the raw skin just above the mark. Then he whispered against your back:

“You’re insane.”

“Mm. You like it.”

He exhaled sharply. “You have no idea.”

With the cuts cleaned, he pulled the covers over both of you, pulling your body into his. His arm wrapped around your waist, and his face tucked into the crook of your neck.

No restraint.

No commands.

Just warmth.

You felt the rise and fall of his chest behind you, felt the scrape of his still-rough voice as he murmured, almost too low to hear:

“You ever use that safe word…”

A pause.

“I’ll stop. Instantly.”

You reached for his hand beneath the blankets, fingers lacing through his. “I know.”

He kissed your shoulder, just above one of the healing cuts.

“I’m gonna destroy you again next time.”

You smiled, eyes already heavy. “Can’t wait.”

𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒: @blossomnet ♡ @illusionnet ♡ @mirohs-aurora-society ♡

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[wooyoungiewritings]

A Spoonful of Trouble - Wooyoung x Reader

Summary: Three years of living with your best friend Wooyoung, and it’s all been chill… until a run-in with your old coworker, who’s dating your ex, forces you to lie. You tell her you’re in a relationship with Wooyoung, and now you both have to fake a relationship at a couples’ dinner. Wooyoung’s plan? Make your ex jealous. What starts as a harmless game soon sparks something you didn’t see coming.

Word count: 17.4K

Genre: Best-friend/Roomie Wooyoung, fake dating, comedy (it’s wooyoung, ofc its fun), friends-to-lovers, oneshot, smut

Warnings: Jealous undertones, Wooyoung with reader (fem pronouns), dom Wooyoung, he’s a tease, fingering, oral (fem receiving), choking and hair pulling, ass slaps and pussy slaps (lmao sorry) dirtytalk, unprotected sex, lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: I was requested a Wooyoung fanfic (preferably friends to lovers) and your wish is my command. Also, I haven't read this through, so I excuse if there are any mistakes!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Wooyoung in any way.

You didn’t know Wooyoung before you moved in with him.

It wasn’t some childhood-friends-to-roommates situation. It was a Facebook listing, a desperate rent situation, and a quick video call where he grinned and said, “I’m clean, I cook, and I only walk around shirtless on laundry days, deal?”

Your boyfriend had just cheated on you and you were too broke to be picky.

You moved in two weeks later.

That was three years ago.

When you first moved in, things were simple. Polite nods in the hallway, careful division of chores, messages like “Can I use your oat milk?” and “Trash day’s Thursday.” You were strangers learning how to coexist. He was respectful, charming, funny in a careful kind of way.

But that changed. Slowly. Naturally.

There was the night he knocked on your door with two bowls of ramen after hearing you cry through the wall. The time he fell asleep on your shoulder during a movie, and you let him stay there. The mornings where he started making two cups of coffee without asking, and the way he never forgot which mug was your favorite.

Little things, at first. But they stacked up.

Now he knows your coffee order and your worst ex’s name. He doesn’t knock anymore when your door is open. And you don’t bother pretending to be annoyed when he drapes himself across the couch you’re already sitting on, like there’s not an entire empty seat next to you. You know his favorite hoodie and the playlist he only listens to when he’s feeling off.

You don’t even remember when it happened. When “roommate” became “friend,” and “friend” slowly became “best friend”.

He’s the first person you turn to when something happens, good or bad. You’ve become so used to him and his playful, flirtatious nature, that it’s just... normal now.

This morning, you wake up to the sound of a pan sizzling.

It’s not unusual. Wooyoung does most of the cooking in the apartment, partly because he’s better at it, mostly because he refuses to eat anything bland. You’ve learned not to interfere when he’s in his element, your only job is to show up and eat.

Still, it’s early, and he’s making a bit too much noise for someone who claims to love you “platonically.”

You shuffle out of your room, hair a mess, socks mismatched. The kitchen smells like garlic and eggs, and you see him standing at the stove, completely in his zone. Hoodie sleeves pushed up, spatula in hand, flipping something with a finesse that makes it obvious he knows he looks good doing it.

“You’re showing off,” you mutter, leaning against the doorframe.

He doesn’t look away from the pan. “You’re welcome.”

You make a beeline for your favorite mug, the one he always pretends to hate but still washes carefully every time you leave it in the sink.

“I figured you’d sleep in,” he says. “You stayed up late.”

“Yea, because someone wasn’t leaving my room.” you send him a glare.

“I like hanging out with you! and don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the story about the geek and the popular girl from my old highschool. That story is cute as hell.” he points the spatula with you like it’s a weapon.

You smirk behind the mug. “Okay, that one was kinda good.”

He grins, plating scrambled eggs and what looks like roasted vegetables. He slides the plate toward your usual spot at the counter like he’s done it a hundred times, because he has.

“How was your date?” you ask, poking your fork into a roasted tomato.

Wooyoung groans. “Disaster.”

“That bad?”

“She asked if I was in love with her halfway through the appetizer.”

“Bold of her,” you say, chewing.

“And when I said no, she looked at me like I kicked her in the face. Then she told me I ‘give off commitment issues.’”

You grin. “You do give off commitment issues.”

He glares playfully. “Okay, rude. I’m extremely loyal.”

“To me.”

“Exactly. My loyalty quota is full. Sorry to the rest of the world.” he shoots you a wink, nothing dramatic, just one of those natural, easy gestures he does without thinking. You don’t blush. Not anymore.

You're used to it. In the beginning, back when you were still adjusting to living with someone who looks like that, who flirts with the air he breathes, who walks around shirtless and steals fries from your plate and calls you “babe” just to watch your reaction, it was different.

But now? Immunity.

Mostly.

It’s easy with him, always has been. Closeness that doesn’t need explanation. No boundaries, because you don’t need them. Not when you’ve seen each other through every version of a day.

He sits beside you at the counter instead of across, thigh brushing yours like it’s second nature.

Because it is.

***

“You know,” you say, pushing the cart down the cereal aisle, “you could just admit you have the taste buds of a hyperactive child.”

Wooyoung gasps, dramatically offended as he holds up a neon box of chocolate puffs. “This is not childish. This is elite. You wouldn’t understand the depth of this flavor profile.”

Grocery shopping with Wooyoung is basically a weekly ritual at this point. Not because you can’t go alone, but because he insists on it. Claims you’d forget half the list and come back with snacks and nothing else. Which, to be fair, is kind of true.

You’re halfway through the cereal aisle, walking behind the cart as Wooyoung wanders a few feet ahead, eyes locked on the shelf like he’s making a life-or-death decision between sugary clusters or chocolate swirls.

He’s in his element, mumbling ingredients under his breath, holding one box up to the light like he’s reading ancient scrolls. You smile to yourself, letting him do his thing as you slow down, scanning your phone for the rest of your shared grocery list.

And then, just your luck, you hear it.

“Oh my god, Y/N?”

You look up too slowly.

Hana.

You turn, putting on the most polite expression you can muster as she approaches, all bright eyes and perfect hair and the same aggressive enthusiasm she used to bring to Monday morning staff meetings.

“Hana,” you say, trying to sound surprised instead of resigned. “Wow. Hi.”

“I thought that was you! Oh my god, it’s been what, like, forever? You look so… Anyways, it’s so good to see you!” She eyes you, then glances down into your cart before you can respond. “Frozen dumplings, instant rice, oh my god I love those snacks, they’re so bad but soooo addictive, right? Wait-, this kimchi brand is the worst. You should try the one from Jihyun’s Market across town. It’s organic.”

You blink. “I... like this one.”

“Sure, sure. I mean, I just think it’s better to be picky with fermented stuff, you know? Especially when you’re eating it alone.”

You don’t answer right away. She doesn’t wait.

“Gosh, how are you? I remember how you were always the chill one at work. So responsible. So put together. Like, you were always the single one! We called you "The Independent Icon" behind your back. Not in a mean way!”

You hadn’t planned on staying single forever. But a few years ago, your boyfriend cheated on you while he was on vacation, called you from the airport like it was no big deal. After that, you decided you were done. No dating for a while, no more risks. It was easier to be alone than to be blindsided again. Eventually, people stopped asking. Then they started assuming.

Your stomach twists. You glance down the aisle. Wooyoung is still several feet away, crouched in front of a lower shelf now, examining cereal boxes like he’s an art critic. Totally out of earshot.

“Oh, I didn’t know people talked about that,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Hana waves a hand. “Only in admiration, really. I mean, you’ve never brought a guy to any of our dinners. I think Minji even thought you were secretly dating a girl for a while, totally cool if you are! No judgment! But I told her, no way. Y/N is just focused. Did I tell you I got married, by the way? I don’t think you ever met my husband. We got married last year, tiny ceremony, super last minute. Here-, he’s gonna kill me for showing this, but look how ridiculous he looks in this suit.”

She pulls out her phone, swipes once, then holds it up to you.

You freeze.

You know that face.

The sharp jawline. The dimple on his left cheek. The same stupid smile he had when he came back from that trip and told you, casually, like it was weather, that he’d slept with someone else. “It didn’t mean anything,” he said, “we were just having a rough patch, right?”

Your stomach drops.

“That’s him,” Hana says proudly. “Total goofball, but he’s the best. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d find someone like him. But don’t worry, you’ll find someone too some day!”

Hana is still talking but her words blur.

You could say nothing. You could just smile, nod, and escape with your overpriced kimchi and frozen dumplings. But you nod slowly, eyes darting to the end of the aisle again. Suddenly, you hear yourself say, voice too quick and too loud:

“Actually, I’m dating someone.”

Hana’s brows lift. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah.” You point down the aisle.

She turns.

Wooyoung, still crouched, is now reading the back of a cereal box, completely oblivious to your social spiral.

“Oh?” Hana’s eyes are practically sparkling now, thrilled by this newfound information. “Look at you! I know you had it in you!” she says, nudging your arm. “You have to bring him to dinner. We’re doing a little couples night this Friday. Just a few of us from work, old and new. Minji’s coming, and Jihyun, and my husband’s inviting one of his coworkers and their girlfriend. You two should come!”

You hesitate, already internally spiraling. “Oh, I don’t know-”

“Come on! It’ll be fun. I need someone there who doesn’t talk about babies every ten seconds. Please.”

She’s already taking your nod as confirmation before you’ve fully given it. “Perfect! I’ll text you the details, I still have your number. You better show up.”

Just as she’s about to walk away, Wooyoung returns, holding two cereal boxes and strolling up casually.

Hana’s face lights up again. “See you soon!” she says brightly to him, giving you both a final little wave before disappearing around the corner.

Wooyoung blinks after her, then looks at you, eyebrows raised. “...Why do I feel like I just missed something deeply important?”

You stare at him, trying to decide where to begin.

He holds up the cereal boxes, undeterred. “Okay. Fruity Loops or Cinnamon Sugar Swirls. One has slightly fewer chemicals. I won’t say which.”

You inhale slowly, exhale even slower. “So, remember when you left me alone for two minutes?”

“Tragically, yes.”

“Well… in those two minutes, I may have… sort of… told someone we’re dating.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Wooyoung blinks. “You what?”

You gesture weakly down the aisle. “That was Hana. Old coworker. She’s always been weirdly obsessed with the fact that I’m single. She was doing her usual thing, and I panicked, and I pointed at you, and now she thinks we’re together, and- surprise! We’re going to a couples dinner on Friday.”

Wooyoung looks at you. Then at the cereal. Then back at you.

And then he grins.

Like really grins.

“Oh my God,” he says, eyes wide with delight. “This is amazing.”

“Wooyoung.”

“We’re fake dating? We’re doing the thing? Like the romcoms?”

You press a hand to your face. “It gets worse.”

His grin somehow grows. “I’m listening.”

“She’s married to my ex.”

Wooyoung blinks. “The ex?”

You nod. “She showed me a wedding photo. It’s him. The one who cheated on me while he was on vacation. The reason I swore off dating for like, three years.”

Wooyoung’s jaw drops, then slowly morphs into something almost unhinged with glee.

“Oh my God,” he breathes. “This is so much better than I thought.”

“Why are you happy?”

“Because,” he says, absolutely glowing, “I get to sit across from the guy who cheated on my best friend and pretend to be the hot, attentive boyfriend who’s so in love with her he’d die for her. I’m going to be so annoying. I’m going to feed you food.”

“Wooyoung.”

“I’m going to wipe sauce off your mouth. I’m going to put my arm around your chair. I’m going to call you baby in front of him.”

You groan. “This is going to kill me.”

“This is going to heal you,” he says. “You know what, this counts for both of the cereals. Sweet childhood nostalgia and the one that turns milk radioactive pink.” He throws the cereals into the cart with dramatic flair. “This is the best grocery trip of my life.”

***

Friday morning

He’s already in the kitchen when you shuffle in, still half-asleep, arms wrapped around yourself. The smell of eggs and butter greets you first.

“Good morning, my beautiful fake girlfriend!” he beams.

You groan. “Please don’t start.”

“Too late,” he sings, doing a dramatic spin with the spatula. “Do you want toast with your lies or just plain guilt?”

You drop your head onto the counter with a sigh. “I’m not built for this level of energy before caffeine.”

He slides a mug your way, your mug, with your preferred coffee, made just right. “I knew you’d be a flight risk this morning.”

You mutter a thank-you and take a long sip. It helps. But not enough.

“I think I’m panicking,” you say into the mug.

He sets your breakfast in front of you and leans on the counter across from where you sit. “Hey. We’ve got this. All we have to do is show up, eat some overpriced cheese cubes, pretend we’re madly in love, make your ex suffer for being the biggest asshole known to man, and leave. Easy.”

“Madly in love,” you echo flatly.

“Yes, madly.” His smile grows. “Madly, stupidly in love. To the point where your ex is going to regret every single life choice he made after cheating on you. And enough to make Hana go, ‘oh wow, they’re so cute, maybe I am a terrible friend for shaming her for being single for the entire time I’ve known her.’”

You blink. “You really hate him, don’t you?”

“I’ve never even met him and I already hope he has the biggest receding hairline I’ve ever seen.”

You can’t help but laugh.

“And besides,” he adds, stealing a bite of your toast, “we got chemistry.”

You make a face.

“We do, though. We’re best friends. We’re comfortable. We finish each other’s-”

“Don’t.”

“-sentences.”

You hurl a piece of toast crust at him. He dodges it with a smirk.

But he’s right. You are comfortable. You already know what shirt he’s going to wear tonight and that he’s going to pretend he didn’t plan it. You know he’s going to be charming and make everyone laugh and completely forget he’s pretending.

And that’s the part that begins to make your stomach twist.

The day goes faster than you anticipated, and before you know it, you’re both getting ready for the dinner.

You’re halfway through checking your bag for the fourth time when he walks out of his room, and everything in you stills.

He’s adjusting the sleeves of his black button-down, casually rolling them up past his elbows. He tucks his phone into his back pocket, grabs a bottle of wine off the counter. He’s talking, saying something about the wine in his hands, but you don’t hear a word.

Because damn. He looks good.

His black hair is styled a little messier than usual, in that perfectly undone way that probably took way too much effort. He’s tucked his shirt into dark slacks that fit just right, and he’s wearing that silver chain he only brings out for “important” nights.

Like fake dates, apparently.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even look like he’s trying. He looks like this is just how he always looks. Like he doesn’t know that he’s the kind of guy women cross sidewalks for just to sneak a better glance.

And you should be used to that. You live with him. You see him fresh out of bed, half-asleep, shirtless and in the same ratty sweats every Sunday. But this is different.

You recover fast, mutter something closer to sounds than actual words and spin on your heel toward the bathroom.

You need a second. Maybe two.

You close the door behind you and lean against it, willing your heart to calm down. It's just Wooyoung. Your best friend. Your roommate. Your fake boyfriend for the night. Nothing to get flustered over.

You run a hand down your dress, fix your lipstick, try not to think about how the curve of his smile made your stomach flutter.

Then, without a sound, the door cracks open.

He leans casually against the doorframe, watching you through the reflection. “Hey.”

Your eyes meet in the mirror, and for a second, you forget what you’re doing, because his gaze isn’t neutral.

It drops. Lingers.

Slides down the line of your black dress, the way it hugs your hips, the bare skin of your shoulders. It’s not crude, not obvious, but you can feel it. Like a slow drag of heat over your body.

You blink. “You’re not allowed to just come in here.”

“I knocked.”

You glare.

He lifts his hands, innocent. “You just didn’t hear it. Selective hearing, maybe.”

You roll your eyes, but he doesn’t move. Just stay there, eyes trailing from your hair to your lips to the way you’re fidgeting with your rings.

“What’s up?” you ask, voice soft.

He tilts his head slightly, smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “Just thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Funny,” he deadpans. Then after a beat, “I was wondering how much of a boyfriend I’m allowed to be tonight.”

Your stomach tightens.

He says it lightly, but there’s something in his voice, something teasing, but slower. More deliberate.

You meet his gaze in the mirror again. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he says, stepping a little further into the room, “can I hold your hand? Whisper something in your ear if it gets boring? Pull you in when he’s watching?”

You swallow. He’s close now, not too close, but close enough that the air feels warmer.

“Or maybe,” he continues, eyes flicking to your lips just for a second, “kiss your cheek. You know. If it feels natural. Just enough to make him wonder.” There’s something electric in his voice now, light, amused, but edged with something darker. He smiles, wider this time, and it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Actually… can I make your ex jealous as fuck? Is that allowed?”

“What do you want to do?” you ask, your voice quieter than you mean it to be.

“I mean… if you give me even a little room to play…” He leans in, just slightly, not touching. “I swear I’ll ruin his whole fucking night.”

You’re still staring when he backs away, grin wide, eyes too pleased.

“No pressure," he says, putting both of his hands up, he smiles again, but this time it’s softer. “I’ll do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

Your mouth is dry.

“Do whatever you want,” you manage. “Just… don’t be weird.”

He grins. “I make no promises”

You’re smiling, even as you turn away to grab your perfume, trying not to let him see how warm your cheeks are.

And as he walks out, he says it over his shoulder.

“You didn’t say no to the kiss.”

***

The knock sounds louder than you expect. You suddenly feel overdressed, underprepared, and painfully aware of the fact that your hand is linked with Wooyoung’s.

You didn’t mean to hold hands.

It just sort of… happened. One second you were adjusting your sleeve, the next his fingers found yours, no hesitation, like they’d done it a thousand times. And now it’s too late to pull away without it being weird.

“Y/N! Oh my god, finally! Come in!” Hana screams as she opens the door. You’re barely stepping inside when she notices the man next to you, her eyes widening. “And this is…?”

“Wooyoung,” he says smoothly, offering the wine bottle with both charm and ease. “Nice to meet you.”

Hana takes it with a delighted hum, already ushering you both inside. You barely get a foot in before her voice lifts again. “Babe, come meet my old co-worker!”

And there he is.

Standing a few steps inside the hallway, one hand curled loosely around a drink. He turns at the sound and freezes. Just for a second, quick enough to pass for nothing, but not to you. You see it. His eyes widen slightly, and something flickers across his face. Confusion. Surprise. Like he wasn’t told. Like he wasn’t ready.

But you smile, smooth and pleasant. Step forward, extend your hand like you’ve never seen him before in your life.

“Hi,” you say. “Nice to meet you.”

You smile like it’s nothing. Like you don’t know him. Like he’s just another name you’ll forget by morning. There’s the barest pause before he sets the glass down and shakes your hand. “Yeah,” he says, guarded, eyes flicking to Wooyoung. “You too.”

Before you can say anything, Wooyoung steps forward smoothly, hand outstretched, “Hi,” he says, voice warm and a little too cheerful. “I’m Wooyoung. Her boyfriend.”

There’s a pause. One breath too long. Your ex shifts, not quite hiding the way his eyes flick to your still-joined hands.

“…Right,” he says finally, taking Wooyoung’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Hana, being the overly-excited host that she is, smiles at the situation. “Everyone’s in the kitchen. Come on, we’re just doing drinks and snacks before dinner.”

You glance toward the kitchen, grateful for the distraction, but not before you feel Wooyoung’s hand press gently against your lower back, guiding you forward.

As if to say: I’ve got you.

But also…

Watch me work.

The house is warm and golden-lit, filled with soft music and the quiet sounds of people mingling. Laughter drifts from the back, layered over the clink of glasses and the sizzle of something on the stove.

The kitchen is full, couples leaning against counters, clustered near the island, perched on stools. Everyone looks up when you enter, and Hana claps her hands once. “Everyone, this is Y/N and her boyfriend, Wooyoung.”

You swear the word echoes for a second. Boyfriend.

Wooyoung just nods with a relaxed smile, greeting the group like he’s done this a hundred times. He’s introduced to a few of the guys first, and within a minute he’s already laughing at something, fully immersed in conversation.

You hang back, trying not to fidget, trying to ignore how good he looks tonight, sleeves rolled, watch glinting, hair pushed back perfectly like he didn’t even try. And then, as if on cue, Hana pipes up from across the room, tossing the words over her shoulder like they’re harmless.

“I still can’t believe Y/N’s in a relationship now,” she says brightly, like it’s a funny little update. “I didn’t believe it at first, Y/N in a relationship? We all thought she was allergic to commitment!”

There’s a few laughs, light, not cruel. The kind of laugh that happens when people think they’re in on something. The moment the words leave Hana’s mouth, your ex looks up. His expression flickers with a hint of surprise.

You open your mouth, unsure what to say. But before you can speak, Wooyoung cuts in. He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t even look particularly bothered. He just glances over at Hana with an easy, almost lazy kind of smile.

“If loving her is a commitment, then it’s the easiest type of commitment I’ve ever made.”

You blink.

Your ex doesn’t say anything. His lips press into a tight line, but his eyes narrow further, jaw clenching slightly as he watches Wooyoung.

But Wooyoung’s gaze never shifts away from you, his hand finding yours again, linking your fingers effortlessly. His smile is small, but there’s a touch of pride behind it. He’s enjoying this.

The women smile. A couple guys glance over like damn. And Hana? She laughs, charmed. “Wow, okay. You’re already winning points.”

You try to smile like your heart didn’t just skip an entire beat.

Hana insists on giving you and Wooyoung a quick tour before dinner. “It’s not huge,” she says, with a laugh that’s anything but modest. “We just really wanted something simple but tasteful. Natural light was a must. You know how it is.”

Wooyoung nods beside you like he deeply, deeply understands the weight of natural light, and you catch the subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“And this-” Hana gestures grandly as she opens a set of double doors. “This is my favorite room. The light in here at golden hour? Unreal. We had the cushions custom made to match the ceiling beams. And the books are mostly for decoration, but it kind of gives the right mood, don’t you think?”

You nod along politely, half-listening, while Wooyoung leans down slightly, his voice warm and low against your ear.

“Do you think if I mention natural light three more times, we unlock a secret level of the tour?”

Your breath hitches with a soft laugh, and before you can stop yourself, you tilt your head slightly toward him, shoulder brushing his chest. His smile lingers like he’s proud of himself, but there’s something else behind it too, something quieter. The way your face lights up when you laugh, how you don’t pull away. It flickers in his chest and sits there, unexpected.

His hand lingers a little longer at the small of your back as you follow Hana to the next room.

The dinner table is lively, plates are passed around, and glasses are filled as casual conversation flows. Across the table, your ex is quiet. He hasn’t said much all night, just observed. His smile is polite, his presence steady, but you can feel his gaze on you every now and then, especially when Wooyoung leans in to refill your glass or casually touches your wrist while talking.

The group is in a comfortable rhythm, and just as you're about to take a bite of your food, one of the guests leans back in their chair with a curious smile.

“So how did you two meet each other?”

You freeze, your mind racing. And across from you, you swear you see your ex stiffen slightly, eyes narrowing just the tiniest bit.

Wooyoung notices immediately.

He smiles at you, that teasing, mischievous look in his eyes as he leans forward, taking the cue. He opens his mouth, and suddenly, his voice fills the room. Smooth, charming, and effortlessly natural.

"Oh, this one’s my favorite story," he says, his voice warm and playful, his eyes lighting up as if he's about to tell the most incredible tale.

He pauses for dramatic effect, glancing at you, making sure you’re paying attention. You give him a quick nod, still unsure of where he’s going with this.

“It was one of those nights you’re not even supposed to go out, you know? I almost canceled.” He lets out a soft laugh, glancing at you. “But then she walked in.”

Everyone leans in slightly, curious.

“She wasn’t supposed to be there either, actually. Our friend had to convince her. She was tired, had a long week,” He looks at you briefly, as if asking permission with his eyes, but his smile says he already knows you’ll let him go on.

“She came in late, a little out of breath, tucking her hair behind her ear, apologizing even though no one noticed. And I swear-” He leans back, that crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “-the second I saw her, I forgot what I was saying mid-sentence. Just totally lost it. My friend thought I was choking on my drink.”

Soft laughter bubbles around the table. Your cheeks warm.

“She sat right across from me, and I swear I didn’t hear a single thing anyone else said the whole night. I spent the night trying to make her laugh.”

It’s smooth, too smooth, but his tone is light, playful, like he’s just telling a fond memory, not spinning an elaborate lie. He continues, eyes sparkling.

“I asked for her number before we left, and she said no.”

A small gasp comes from someone at the table, and Wooyoung grins like he’s telling a bedtime story.

“She said I seemed like the kind of guy who flirts with everyone.” More laughter. Wooyoung presses a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Which-, okay, fair. But I wasn't flirting with her… or maybe I was, but I just wanted to keep talking to her. So I said, ‘If she doesn’t want to give it to me, fine, I’ll earn it.’ And I kept showing up whenever our friend invited people out. I'd always make sure to sit next to her. Always brought something small. Coffee, gum, dumb stuff, just to have an excuse to talk.”

He looks at you then. Really looks at you.

“And eventually… she let me walk her home.”

Someone lets out a little aww.

“I didn’t try anything,” he adds. “I just wanted to stretch out the moment as long as I could. I think we stood outside her door for half an hour just talking. I memorized the color of her front light. The chipped tile on her step. Her laugh.”

The table is completely silent.

“And the next time?” His smile curves wider. “She kissed me first. Which I will never let her forget.”

The table is enchanted.

For a moment after Wooyoung finishes, there’s a soft, stunned silence, like everyone’s holding their breath without realizing it. Then:

“Oh my God,” someone breathes.

The woman across from you nudges her partner. “You never chased me like that.”

“You didn’t run,” he deadpans.

“So you’re telling me you saw her once and just knew?” another friend adds, reaching for more wine.

“I told our mutual friend to introduce us, and he said ‘don’t bother.’” He stretches his arm along the back of your chair, fingers lightly brushing the bare skin of your shoulder. “So obviously I did the exact opposite.”

The table erupts with laughter. Real, full, warm.

“God, that sounds so like you,” Hana laughs, sending you a playful glance.

Laughter bubbles around the table, easy and entertained.

But not from everyone.

Across the table, your ex’s grip on his fork tightens, just for a moment. Not dramatic, not enough to draw attention from anyone else, but you see it. The twitch in his jaw. The way he shifts back in his chair like he needs space to breathe.

Wooyoung leans in slightly, hand still resting lightly behind your neck now, fingers brushing just enough to make it look natural. Intimate.

“And when she finally said yes,” he adds, voice lower now, more deliberate, “I knew I wasn’t gonna let her go.”

Your chest tightens.

The air feels heavier.

Meanwhile, you’re frozen in place, staring at your wine glass, heart racing as if you lived every second of that made-up story. You catch someone across the table watching you with a knowing smile, clearly convinced you're the luckiest girl alive.

And for a second, just one, you almost believe it too.

The rest of the dinner unfolds like a well-rehearsed play. Light laughter, wine refills, soft clinks of cutlery against porcelain. Conversation drifts easily between the couples, like they’ve all known each other forever, even if some only met tonight. And somehow, you and Wooyoung fall into it without trying.

After the dinner, the buzz of conversation in the living room fades as you step quietly down the hallway toward the bathroom. You need a second to breathe, just a minute alone after everything that’s happened tonight.

You close the bathroom door behind you and lean against it for a moment, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Wooyoung’s charming story about how you met still lingers in your mind, and the way everyone seemed so enchanted by him... it felt like something out of a movie. It had been easy to get swept up in it all, even though it was completely fabricated.

After a few moments, you open the bathroom door and nearly jump out of your skin.

Wooyoung is standing right there in the hallway, hands in his pockets like he’s just been casually waiting. His gaze flicks up to meet yours immediately, and a slow, knowing smile pulls at his lips.

He doesn’t say anything right away, just leans his shoulder against the doorframe, arms now crossed, like he’s settling in.

You swallow hard. “You scared me.”

“Did I?” His voice is low, soft. Like a secret passed between friends. “Sorry. You just disappeared.”

“I needed a second. Too many couples,” you say, attempting a light laugh that comes out a bit thin. “Too much… love.”

“So?” he murmurs beside you. “How am I doing?”

You glance at him, eyebrows raised.

“The fake boyfriend thing,” he adds with a sly grin. “Convincing enough for you?”

You shrug, but your smile gives you away. “I’ve seen worse performances.”

“Cold,” he mutters, holding a hand over his chest like you’ve wounded him. “Here I am, carrying the entire romance on my back.”

You laugh quietly, then shake your head, your voice dropping again. “Honestly, I think everyone at the table wants to date you now.”

“Jealous?” he says, all teeth and sparkle, but his voice is soft, teasing rather than cocky.

You roll your eyes, even as your stomach flips. “Please.”

Then he tilts his head, studying you. His tone shifts, still playful, but quieter. “You know, you’re still a little pink.”

You blink. “What?”

“Your cheeks,” he says, nodding toward them. “Blushing. Again.”

You cross your arms instinctively, heart picking up pace. “I’m not.”

“You are,” he whispers. He leans a little closer. “It’s kinda cute.”

Your breath catches.

“You’re insufferable,” you whisper, smiling despite yourself.

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

The moment hangs, just a little too long. You’re standing in the dim hallway, lights soft, voices muffled behind walls, and he’s looking at you like this is his favorite part of the night.

You clear your throat, trying to reset something in the air. “We should go back.”

“Yeah,” he says, straightening slowly. “Before someone thinks we’re sneaking off to make out.”

Wooyoung straightens just a little, the moment sliding away like water off skin. He gives you one last glance, a wink for good measure, then turns and walks toward the others. That leaves you standing in the hallway, heart racing, wondering why his lazy confidence always makes it hard to tell when he’s joking and when he isn’t.

You follow behind, still feeling the blush he called out.

You offer to help Hana out in the kitchen. Wooyoung is busy winning everybody’s hearts with his charm, so you aren’t concerned about him.

You rinse off a plate, hands moving on autopilot as you stack it neatly on the drying rack. Hana leans against the counter beside you, sipping the last of her wine, her smile still painted on from dinner. “Seriously though,” she says, nudging your hip with hers, “I wasn’t expecting you to show up with someone like that.”

You huff a laugh. “Like what?”

“Like… funny. Hot. Charismatic. The way he talks about you?” She raises a brow. “Unreal.”

You smile, tight-lipped. “Yeah. He’s something.”

“I mean…” She grins. “You glow around him. It’s wild. Like, he looks at you like he’s already picking out your wedding venue.”

You laugh, quiet, awkward. “He’s just… sweet.”

Hana raises her brows. “He’s obsessed. In a good way.” She tilts her head toward the hallway. “I’m gonna go grab the wine opener. Don’t let me forget it again. Be back in a sec.”

The back door clicks shut behind her, and silence settles again. It’s nice for a moment, just you, the clink of cutlery, the steam from the sink. You keep washing dishes, grateful for the moment alone.

But it doesn’t last.

You hear movement behind you. Slow. Hesitant.

You turn your head and freeze.

It’s him.

Your ex.

He stands just past the threshold, hands in his pockets, gaze locked on you. He steps in without saying anything at first. Just lingers a little too close to the kitchen island, his eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to figure out what he’s seeing.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he says.

You dry your hands on a towel, steadying yourself. “Clearly.”

He takes a step in. Not too close, but enough to unsettle you.

His eyes flick around the room, then land back on you. “You look good.”

You sigh quietly, turning back to the sink. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m just saying.”

Another beat.

You hear him shift again, leaning slightly against the island behind you. You can feel his eyes on your back.

“That guy,” he says finally. “The one who came with you. Wooyoung.”

You don’t look at him. “What about him?”

He hesitates. Then, carefully: “Are you two… serious?”

You pause, then shrug. “That’s none of your business.”

He lets out a low breath. “So that’s a yes.”

You turn slowly, facing him now. “Why are you here, really?”

“In my own house?”

“No,” you say. “Why are you in this kitchen, right now?”

He stares at you. Silent.

“I fucked up,” he blurts, “Okay? I know I did. I’ve been thinking about it since-”

“Don’t,” you snap, but still keeping your voice down so the rest of the party won't hear. “You don’t get to come here, pretend we’re still something, and then act surprised that I moved on. You’re married.”

His mouth opens, then closes. He looks at you like you’ve just hit him.

“You moved on?” he repeats, like the words are bitter on his tongue. “With him?”

You step back. “You don’t know him.”

He scoffs. “I might not, but I can still see how insufferable he is.”

You stare at him, lips parted in disbelief. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

He takes another step forward, eyes sharper now. “I just don’t get it. After everything-”

“No,” you say firmly, holding your hand up. “You don’t get anything. You lost the right to have an opinion the second you slept with someone else.”

There’s a beat of silence. Your heart pounds in your ears.

And then…

“Everything okay in here?” Wooyoung’s voice is cold. Threatening almost.

You don’t need to look. You feel it, the air shifting, the way the atmosphere bends around his presence. But you still turn your head. And it steadies you instantly.

He’s leaning in the doorway. One hand tucked into the pocket of his slacks, the other hanging loose at his side. His posture is relaxed. His expression? Somewhere between nonchalance and interest.

But his eyes?

They’re fixed on your ex.

And they could kill.

Your ex straightens, caught off guard. “Uh-, yeah. We were just-”

Wooyoung steps fully into the room like he’s walking through water, unconcerned by the tension that’s thick enough to drown in. He nods once, a polite gesture with razor edges, then glances at you.

His voice lowers. Smooth, velvety. Unmistakably his.

“You okay, baby?”

The pet name slips out effortlessly. Like it belongs there. Like you belong to him. Then he closes the space between you and him, his hand brushing the small of your back with casual ownership.

Your breath stutters. “I’m fine.”

His gaze lingers on your ex, sharp enough to make the air hum.

“Then I’ll ask one more time,” he murmurs, voice dipped in steel, eyes locked on your ex. “Is there a problem?”

Your ex lets out a quiet scoff, trying to play it cool. “No problem at all.”

Wooyoung breathes in once, slow.

“Then I’ll make this simple,” he says, softly now. Dangerous soft. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.” He tilts his head, the barest shift of muscle. His smile is slight, almost gentle, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “If not…” His jaw tightens just once. “Walk away before you make me repeat myself.”

Your ex doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t look at you. Just leaves.

And Wooyoung watches every step. Tracks him with the kind of gaze that doesn’t flinch. It says everything he hasn’t:

Try it again. I dare you.

When it’s just the two of you again, Wooyoung’s fingers trace your spine once, barely there. A silent check-in.

Then, slowly, his focus shifts. Back to you.

His voice drops. Low. Controlled.

“You okay?”

You nod once, but it’s tight. Too tight. And he sees it.

His brows pinch just slightly. “Did he say something?”

“No,” you whisper, and it’s true, mostly. “He was just… being him.”

Wooyoung exhales slowly through his nose, jaw clenching. Like he’s trying not to say something that would ruin the whole night. But then he looks at you, really looks at you, and something in him softens. Just a little.

His hand slides from your back to your waist, anchoring you close. He studies your face for a moment, like he’s not fully convinced, but then he exhales and gives a small nod back.

“I didn’t want to step in too early,” he says, voice soft now. “You looked like you had it under control. You did.”

There’s something warm in your chest at that, that he trusted you to hold your own.

You meet his eyes.

He’s not angry.

He’s present.

“I know you don’t need anyone to defend you,” he says, quieter now. “But I’m here. If you ever want me to.”

That part lingers. A gentle offering.

You smile faintly. “Thanks.”

He leans just a little closer, his voice dipping like he doesn’t want to be overheard, even by the walls, and something wicked flickers at the corner of his mouth. “Guess I’ll have to make it clearer you’re taken.”

Your heart skips a beat.

His hand gives your waist the faintest squeeze, not possessive, just sure. Then he straightens up, tone lighter, a glint in his eye as he teases, “You ready to go back out there, or should we hide out in here a little longer?”

You smile. “Let’s go.”

Wooyoung laces his fingers with yours as you step out of the kitchen. He doesn’t say much. Just keeps his hand on you, sometimes at your back, sometimes curled around your fingers, like he doesn’t trust the room not to try and touch you.

The energy around him simmers low. Controlled. Patient.

But it’s there.

You feel it in the way his gaze lingers a little too long when you make eye contact The way his thumb brushes your skin when you pass your ex. Like a fuse waiting for flame.

The evening moves on. Laughter. Drinks. Music humming low in the background. But that energy never leaves him.

Then, after another drink, his palm slides against your waist as he leans in, murmuring just low enough for only you to hear. “Come outside with me for a sec?”

You glance up, surprised by the quiet invitation, but nod. “Yeah. Okay."

He takes your hand and leads you through the back door, into the cool hush of the backyard. String lights sway gently above. A few scattered chairs dot the patio, mostly empty.

He pulls you just far enough into the yard that you’re framed under the golden light, a sight impossible to miss. Then he stops just enough to pull you in close, his hands resting firmly on your waist. His breath brushes your neck as he leans in, voice low and a little teasing.

“Do you trust me?”

You meet his gaze, smiling without hesitation, but a little confused. “Of course.”

But before you can say anything more, he leans in, no warning, no hesitation, and his mouth finds your neck.

Slow. Deliberate. Unapologetically possessive.

His grip on your waist tightens, firm and grounding, like he's anchoring himself to you, or maybe keeping you exactly where he wants you.

Your fingers twitch, aching to clutch at his shirt, his shoulders, anything. But he doesn’t stop. His mouth keeps moving, tongue flicking, lips parting as he sucks softly at the spot just above your collarbone, lazy, indulgent, filthy in how intimate it feels.

You gasp, hips tilting forward instinctively, heat already pooling low and heavy in your belly. He doesn’t miss it, he hums against your throat like he felt it happen.

Wooyoung pulls back just enough to murmur, voice thick and close to your ear, “You weren’t expecting that, huh?”

His tone is teasing, pleased, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Then he leans back in, grazing your neck again, his nose brushing over the same spot he just kissed.

“Fake boyfriend of the year, right?” he adds, a low smirk in his voice.

It pulls a laugh from you, too real, too soft, and he chuckles under his breath like he lives for the sound.

And then he looks up.

Over your shoulder.

Still smiling.

You don’t turn. You don’t even realize why his gaze has sharpened. But Wooyoung knows. He’s known from the moment he stepped outside.

“Oh, hey,” he says, just loud enough, like the thought only now occurred to him. “Didn’t see you there.”

You blink, startled, then turn.

And there he is.

Your ex is sitting in the far corner of the backyard, posture stiff, one hand loosely holding a glass of something amber that he’s no longer drinking. He’s been watching, long enough, clearly. His eyes flick from your face to where Wooyoung’s hand rests against your hip like it was made to be there. His mouth is drawn in a line so tight it might split.

He’d been watching.

Wooyoung's arm wraps a little tighter around your waist. Not possessive. Not aggressive. Just… secure. Like he has every right to hold you like this. Like he dares anyone to question it.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Wooyoung says, cool and lazy.

Your ex stares, jaw tight.

Wooyoung doesn’t wait. His posture is casual, but there’s a glint in his eye that betrays him, too amused, too at-ease.

“Nice night, isn’t it?” he adds, like it’s nothing. “Stars out. Music inside. My girl tastes like sangria. Hard to complain.”

You stiffen slightly, but Wooyoung doesn’t flinch. He’s still smiling faintly, watching you with that unbothered, pretty-boy charm that somehow makes everything worse.

Your ex lifts his drink and mutters, “Some of us came out here to be alone.”

Wooyoung cocks his head. “Oh, totally fair. Should’ve said something.”

There’s a beat of silence, sharp enough to cut through. But he doesn’t move. He stays planted right there beside you, hand still snug on your waist like it belongs there.

Then he blinks, as if struck by a thought.

“Oh-, wait,” he says, voice still sweet. “You want us back inside?” He huffs a quiet laugh, almost apologetic. “Damn. That’s on me.”

Your ex sets his glass down with a soft clink on the stone railing. “You always this annoying?”

Wooyoung grins. “Only when I’m in a good mood.”

“Y/N! Wooyoung!”

Hana bursts out, loud and glowing, wine glass in one hand, joy practically spilling out of her. Her eyes land on you both and she lights up like the fourth of July.

“Oh my God, there you are!” she grins. “I was about to come get you, everyone keeps asking where the hot couple went!”

You see your ex stiffen. Wooyoung’s smile stretches.

“Hot couple,” he echoes, biting back a laugh.

Hana gasps dramatically. “Don’t act shy now! You two are disgusting. I love it.”

“I'm not mad about it. She’s got great taste,” Wooyoung teases with a little shrug, for a second glancing over at your ex. “Eventually.”

Your ex’s jaw tightens. He looks like he might speak.

But Wooyoung leans in one last time, whispering low into your ear, voice soft enough to make your skin spark:

"Success, baby"

He smirks before sliding his hand into yours, pulling you gently toward the house where Hana is waiting, oblivious to the tension left behind.

The night has mellowed. The lights are dim, the wine is flowing, and laughter has started to echo easier around the table. Someone’s passed around dessert, tiramisu in glass jars, and Wooyoung’s excused himself to the bathroom with that lazy, effortless vibe only he can pull off without trying. You’d felt his hand brush your shoulder as he left, and it still lingers there somehow, phantom-warm.

Hana’s had just enough wine to get bold. She sits across from you, grinning over the rim of her glass.

“Okay,” she says, loudly enough to cut across the overlapping chatter. “New question for the couples.”

The table quiets, interest piqued.

Her eyes land on you like a spotlight. “What’s your favorite physical thing about your partner?”

A few groans. Someone throws a napkin in her direction.

“Don’t roll your eyes,” she warns, laughing. “And no safe answers either. I don’t want to hear about how they ‘have a nice smile’ or ‘beautiful eyes’, everyone says that. I want the thing. The detail. The part of them that does it for you when you’re not even trying to look. The one that makes your brain short-circuit a little.”

You laugh, swallowing a little too quickly. The wine burns, and suddenly the air feels too warm.

“I’ll go last,” Hana says, clearly loving this. “Y/N, go.”

You freeze. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Her smile is practically villainous. “He’s not even here. You can be honest.”

Everyone chuckles. The pressure thickens.

You hesitate, lips parting, unsure. Your eyes flick toward the hallway where Wooyoung disappeared. As if he might walk in just in time to save you.

But he doesn’t.

You clear your throat and say, maybe a little too honestly, “His hands.”

“Ooh,” someone says. “That’s a good one.”

You glance down at the table, fingers curling around your wine glass. “They’re just… nice,” you say, not looking up. “He moves them a lot when he talks. And they’re always doing something. Tapping, pulling at a sleeve, playing with his rings or-, whatever. Just always… moving.”

Your voice quiets as the room listens. You feel exposed, like you said something too intimate.

You don’t realize the room has fallen silent. Until it hits you that no one’s said anything back.

And then...

“I should leave more often if this is what I get to come back to.”

And Wooyoung is standing just behind you, leaning lazily against the doorway, arms crossed, one brow raised in interest.

Your breath halts.

There’s laughter again around the table, but your throat goes dry. Hana’s grinning at the perfect timing. “There he is,” she says, wiggling her brows. “Right on cue. We’re playing favorites.”

Wooyoung raises a brow. “Favorites?”

“Favorite physical thing about each other,” she explains, eyes sparkling. “And no cop-outs like smile or eyes. We’re talking the thing. The detail that ruins you. Your turn”

He chuckles under his breath, clearly amused. He doesn’t hesitate.

“Her neck.”

A beat of silence. His voice is smooth but deliberate, like the words were waiting in his mouth.

You feel your body go still.

Then he moves, slowly, stepping closer behind your chair, his hand brushing your shoulder as he comes to a stop. You’re suddenly very aware of how exposed your skin is where your top dips to your collarbone, of how warm the air feels even though he hasn’t touched you.

“She’s got this curve,” he says, quieter now, like he’s letting everyone else fade out. “Right here," His fingers trace the slope where your neck meets your shoulder, so lightly it barely counts as a touch. “Right where her hair rests.”

Then his tone shifts, warmer, quieter. Real.

“In the mornings,” he says, like he’s letting the rest of the room fall away, “when she’s still half-asleep and pulls her hair up without thinking. Stretching, yawning, no makeup, nothing, this part’s just exposed. The light hits it, and I swear to God-” He cuts himself off with a low exhale, shaking his head with a crooked smile. “It makes it really hard to be on time for anything.”

The silence that follows is a different kind of hush. Not teasing. Not performative.

It’s weighted. Personal.

Like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t making any of that up. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until he pulls back, barely.

“Plus,” he adds, a lazy grin playing on his lips, “it’s really unfair that you smell the way you do.”

“Okay, damn,” someone says from across the table, but you can’t even register who.

Wooyoung finally moves, slipping back into the seat beside you. But he doesn’t lean back, doesn’t settle into comfort like before. He sits just a little closer than he needs to. His thigh brushes yours. Warm. Steady. You don’t move.

The game rolls on, Hana gesturing to the couple across from you with a flourish, their answer met with giggles and teasing. But the background fades, soft, foggy, because you feel it. The weight of Wooyoung’s stare.

When you finally turn your head, you find him already watching you.

And everything in his face is different.

Gone is the cocky smile, the playful glint in his eye. He’s quiet now. Studying you, like he’s not sure where the line is anymore. Like maybe he doesn’t want to know.

And then, another gaze.

You catch it from the corner of your eye: your ex, sitting stiff at the far end of the table, his expression unreadable. He’s watching Wooyoung like a hawk, jaw tight, mouth set in a firm line.

Wooyoung senses it. You can feel the shift in him, the small breath he takes. The flicker of heat in his chest, like he might respond, say something, smirk just to provoke.

But he doesn’t.

Because it’s not about him anymore.

After a few more rounds of the game, you step into the hallway and let your back hit the wall with a quiet sigh. The noise from the living room still hums faintly behind you, laughter, the clink of glasses, someone shuffling a deck of cards. It’s warm in there, but your skin feels too tight. You just need a minute.

You close your eyes.

Footsteps approach, soft, familiar.

Wooyoung slips into the hallway like he’s done it a hundred times, like he always knows when you need the space. He falls in beside you, close but not crowding, his shoulder hovering just shy of yours as he leans against the wall.

“You always vanish when it gets too loud,” he says, his voice low.

You keep your eyes forward, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t vanish. I relocate.”

He hums. “Right. Into hallways. Or kitchen corners. Or that one time it was behind the couch.”

“That was one time.”

“It was still dramatic,” he teases, nudging your arm lightly. Your breath catches, just a little. It’s playful. It’s Wooyoung. But something about the way he talks makes your stomach flip.

“You look really pretty tonight.”

The words land like a spark, and your breath catches before you can help it. You blink up at him, startled.

“I-, what?”

He grins, slow and lopsided. “Just saying. I don’t think I told you earlier.”

You feel your face flush, warmth blooming across your cheeks, down your neck. You look away instantly, trying to mask it with a half-laugh.

“I’m honest,” he counters, still looking at you. You can feel it, the weight of his gaze, the way it lingers. “I mean, you always look good, but tonight…” His voice dips, softer now. “It’s kind of unfair.”

You glance away, suddenly hyperaware of how close he’s standing. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?” he asks, leaning just slightly toward you. “Is it that hard to believe? Do I need to be faking a relationship for you to believe it?”

You don’t answer. You’re not sure you can. Your heart’s already too loud in your ears.

He nudges your arm gently. “You know, for someone who lives with me, you’re really bad at accepting compliments.”

You try to play it off. “Maybe you just give too many.”

“Mm,” he muses. “Or maybe you’re just really easy to compliment.”

You let out a breathy sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, tucking your chin down in embarrassment. “Can you not?”

You finally glance at him, and he’s already watching you with that infuriatingly unreadable look, somewhere between playful and serious. Like he’s holding back.

He doesn’t say anything else for a second. He just looks at you.

And somehow, that says more than the rest.

You try not to smile. You fail.

Wooyoung pushes himself off the wall with a lazy stretch, then turns his body to face you, effectively placing his back toward the living room.

“Come back in when you’re ready,” he says softly, his voice carrying that usual teasing warmth. “You don’t have to rush. But I’ll be on my seat, being distractingly attractive… in case that helps.”

You almost laugh, but then your eyes drift past him.

Your stomach dips.

Your ex is standing just inside the living room, half-shadowed but unmistakably watching. His expression is unreadable, his eyes sharp and fixed directly on you.

“Wait,” you breathe, reaching out without thinking.

You grab Wooyoung’s shirt and pull him a little closer. He stumbles forward a step, surprised but not resisting. His brows furrow slightly in confusion as he looks down at you.

“Do you trust me?” you ask now, your voice quieter now. There’s a tremor in it, not fear, but urgency. Purpose.

Wooyoung’s expression shifts, softening. “Yes,” he says, instantly. “Of course.”

That’s all you need.

Your hands move quickly, one sliding up to the back of his neck, the other gripping the front of his shirt. You rise onto your toes and kiss him. Firm and deliberate. Lips meeting his in a way that leaves no room for questions. His mouth parts slightly in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans in.

When you break the kiss just slightly, you don’t step back. You stay close, close enough that your lips graze his as you whisper, “He’s watchi-,”

You don’t get to finish. Wooyoung’s lips are on yours again before you even register, like they need to be. Like he doesn’t care about why you kissed him, or for who, but because he can’t stop now that you’ve let it happen.

This time it’s deeper. Hungrier.

You can’t help but deepen the kiss when he slides his tongue slightly into your mouth, and one of his hands slips down to your lower back, guiding you closer. The other lifts to your jaw, gentle but sure. l

You feel your back press lightly into the wall behind you as he moves with you, not rough, but insistent. The kind of kiss that drowns everything else out, conversation, footsteps, your ex’s presence across the room.

His lips part yours, his breath hot and heavy against your cheek between kisses. His grip tightens at your waist, grounding you. You respond instinctively, hands curling into his shirt, lips moving with his, matching every shift and tilt of his head.

It’s a performance. That’s how it started.

But it doesn’t feel like one anymore.

It feels like heat, like want, like a spark that caught fire the second you gave it permission. And he’s kissing you like he’s not planning to stop anytime soon.

And for just a second, you let yourself melt into it. Into him.

But then… it passes.

The air changes again.

You blink and glance over to the living room. Your ex is gone. Vanished back into the room. Wooyoung slows, then stops. His hands remain on you, his breath still a little uneven.

You pull back first, just enough to look at him.

His eyes are already on you. There’s something different there now, an emotion you haven’t seen from him before. Not just playfulness, not just comfort. Something heavier. Hungrier.

You force a small, awkward smile and drop your hands from his neck, stepping back just slightly. “Okay,” you say, clearing your throat. “I think that worked.”

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything for a second. He just studies you like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time. Then he nods, slow and unreadable, and finally, he smiles. But it’s not quite the same. Something about it is quieter. Almost reverent.

At the end of the night, shoes shuffle at the door. Coats rustle. The air is heavy with the kind of tired that follows too much wine and too much pretending.

“Get home safe, okay?” Hana says warmly, stepping toward you both as you’re about to leave. Her smile is soft, a little teasing. “You two are seriously adorable. Like… sickening. I love it.”

You laugh, a bit breathlessly, already halfway into your coat. But before you can say anything, Wooyoung’s arm snakes naturally around your waist, casual, confident. You feel his fingers press into your side, warm through the fabric.

“Thanks, Hana,” he says, flashing her a grin. “She keeps me in line.”

You roll your eyes and glance up at him, but the smile tugging at your lips is real, too real. “Barely,” you murmur, playing along.

His eyes flick to yours for a second. Just long enough to make your stomach twist.

Hana grins and gives you both a quick hug before stepping back into the house. “Bye, lovebirds.”

The door closes behind you.

The air outside bites cold against your skin.

And just like that, his arm drops from your waist. The performance ends.

Neither of you says a word as you walk to the curb. You don’t know if it’s the silence or the absence of his touch that makes the air feel heavier now, but it’s different.

The cab pulls up with a soft screech. He opens the door for you like always, waits for you to slide in, then follows without a word. The car is warm, too warm, and too quiet.

You're both staring straight ahead.

The streetlights flicker past, painting gold across his face. In the confined space, the silence between you buzzes, thick with something unspoken, something ignited hours ago that neither of you has dared to acknowledge.

The apartment door clicks shut behind you with a softness that feels far too loud in the quiet.

Coats are hung. Shoes are kicked off. The scent of his usual candle lingers in the air, citrus and something darker underneath. Normally comforting. Now it just makes your heart beat faster.

Wooyoung heads to the kitchen without a word. His shoulders are relaxed, but there’s something taut underneath it all. You hesitate in the hallway, watching him open the cabinet, sleeves pushed to his elbows, veins still prominent down his forearms from earlier, and you hate how you notice.

You drift into the kitchen slowly, lingering by the edge of the counter.

“So,” you offer, light and a little too bright, “that was fun, right? Peak acting performance. Someone give us Oscars.”

No answer. He fills the glass with water from the tap, moves with that same quiet ease, but doesn’t glance at you once.

You try again, a bit more playful. “Think we fooled them? I mean, your story about how we met really sold it. Ten out of ten commitment.”

He finally looks at you, just looks. And it’s a look that completely steals the breath from your chest. Calm, dark, unreadable. His eyes are locked on yours like he's waiting for you to crack first. And suddenly you're hyperaware of everything. How hot your cheeks feel, how your voice might've sounded too eager, how the silence seems to wrap around your body like a second skin.

You clear yours softly. “Anyway. Um. I’m gonna-, I think I’m just gonna head to bed.”

Still nothing from him.

You nod quickly. “Night.”

You turn, heart hammering now, and you’ve only made it a step or two down the hall when his voice floats to you, quiet, even.

“If you ever need a fake boyfriend again…”

You stop. Your fingers twitch at your side.

“…you know where to find me.”

You turn back toward him slowly. He’s still in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter, glass in hand, eyes unreadable, but fixed on you like he’s daring you to say something. To ask him what he means. To call him out.

You don’t.

You meet his gaze, and it’s only for a second, but something heavy passes between you, something weighty and unspoken that neither of you wants to name.

Then you nod.

Not a joking nod. Not one meant to brush things off. Just… quiet acknowledgement. You walk off with your heartbeat pounding in your ears, like your body knows something your mind hasn’t caught up with. You don’t look back, but you feel his eyes on you the whole way down the hall.

The door clicks softly shut behind you.

And for a long time, you just stand there in the silence of your room, pulse racing, breath held, trying to figure out what exactly that was.

You don’t even remember walking to your vanity. You’ve just been standing here, fingers curled loosely along the edge, eyes locked on your reflection like it might give you answers. But all it gives you is the echo of him. His words. His gaze. His lips on yours. The way your body reacted like it knew something you didn’t.

There’s a knock.

A soft one.

You straighten up fast, like you’re guilty of something. “Come in.”

The door creaks open behind you.

You meet his gaze through the mirror as he strolls in, easy and casual, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to be here, in your space, late at night.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Just leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you.

You manage a breath. “Not tired?”

His shoulders lift in the faintest shrug. “Not really.”

Then silence again.

But it’s not awkward, it’s thick. Charged.

“I was thinking about something,” he finally says, his voice smooth, a little playful.

You glance at him in the mirror, trying not to let your pulse jump. “Yeah? About what?”

Wooyoung pushes off the frame, making his way toward you at an unhurried pace. “You’re better at this whole fake relationship thing than you give yourself credit for.”

You attempt a shrug. “Just playing along.”

A soft laugh leaves him. “Mm. Sure.”

He walks further into the room. Not quickly. Not even directly toward you. He slows as he passes by your bed, eyes roaming lazily over the space like he’s trying to memorize it. But you know that’s not what this is.

He’s letting the silence stretch.

He’s letting you squirm.

You glance at him through the mirror, just as he finally makes his way behind you.

You don’t move.

You can’t.

He stops right behind you, not touching, but close. You keep your eyes locked on the mirror, but it’s no use. He’s everywhere now. In your space. In your breath.

“And the things you said tonight,” he says, voice soft but pointed. “Those were part of the act too?”

You try to keep your tone even. “What things?”

He tilts his head. “The part where you said you like my hands. That you stare at them when I’m not looking.”

You freeze just slightly.

"I-, uhm... I dont-..." You glance down instinctively, suddenly very aware of your own hands fidgeting.

“Funny,” he says softly, “You think I haven’t noticed? When I’m cooking. When I’m fixing something around the apartment. You always get quiet.”

His hand lifts, fingertips brushing your hair gently off your shoulder. You shiver as he lowers his voice again.

“I meant what I said, by the way,” he says. “I do love your neck.”

You don’t answer, but he doesn’t need you to.

“In the mornings,” he murmurs. “When you’re in the kitchen, still half asleep, standing by the window. Your head tilts just a little. That soft little spot here,” he gestures near your collarbone, but still doesn’t touch. “barely covered.”

You’re not breathing properly now.

“And I try,” he continues, “I really try to keep it together, but you standing there like that…? That does something to me.”

You let out a slow, shaky breath, shoulders dropping ever so slightly.

His fingers trail lightly along the back of your neck, not quite touching skin yet, but enough to make you lean into it. He steps in fully now, his hands finding your waist, and you instinctively lean back into him.

And then, finally, his mouth brushes your neck. Gentle. Slow. A teasing press that turns into something deeper. You feel the smile against your skin as he kisses again, and again, lower this time, until your knees threaten to give.

You gasp, just a little, and he smiles against your throat.

“You know,” he starts, voice casual, “if this wasn’t fake…”

Your breath hitches.

“…I would’ve done a lot of things differently tonight.”

You swallow hard. “Like what?”

He trails one finger along your side, feather-light, just enough to make you squirm.

“If this wasn’t fake…” he begins, like it’s casual, like he’s not setting you on fire, “I wouldn’t have let you leave my side once tonight. I would’ve had my hand on you the whole dinner, your thigh, your back, the curve of your hip, just to remind you who you belong to.”

Your stomach tightens.

He brushes his fingers lightly along your sides, not quite ticklish, just maddeningly slow.

“I’d bring you home,” he continues, lips nearly brushing the shell of your ear, “take your hand, lead you to your room like I’ve been waiting to all night. And I wouldn’t rush it. No pretending, no performance. Just you. Me. And the dress I’ve been dying to take off you.”

He trails his knuckles lightly down your side, slow and reverent.

“I’d unzip it real slow…”

You hear the faintest shift of fabric.

“Let it slip off your shoulders while I kissed right here…” he presses a single, feather-light kiss to the side of your neck, “and here…” another just below your ear, “until you were shivering.”

Your eyes flutter closed, and he watches your reflection like he’s memorizing the moment.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers just below your ear.

You’re at a loss for words but you’re hungry for more. You shake your head as you swallow, but realise how dry your mouth is. His hands slide up your sides, warm, sure, with a smile on his face.

“If it hadn't been fake, I’d press you against this vanity,” he goes on, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Make you watch as I touched every inch of your skin.”

You can’t look away from the mirror, from the image of his hands exploring you, slow and confident, like he’s known this body forever.

“I’d hold your hips right here.” His hands grip you firmly, positioning your body with ease. “And I’d make sure the only thing you remembered from tonight was how I made you feel.”

"Yeah?" you manage to say, too invested in everything he's saying.

“If this wasn’t fake…” he murmurs, his hands still on you, tracing the curve of your body as if he owns it. “I’d make you see stars. I’d fuck you right here, make you forget you were ever pretending.”

You let out a light gasp, feeling your heart in your throat.

He presses against you, his hand finding its way to your neck, just enough to make you tilt your head back, exposing more of that sensitive skin. He breathes softly against it.

“You’d be mine. I’d make sure you knew it, every fucking inch of you.”

You’re a breath away from crumbling, your chest rising and falling in rapid succession as you realize how much you want him, how easily you’re giving into the fantasy.

His lips are still close to your ear, breath warm, voice impossibly soft.

“But then again…” he murmurs, the barest smile in his tone, “this is all fake… isn’t it?”

You stiffen.

He lets out a low chuckle, his nose skimming the line of your jaw as he continues, casually cruel in the way only he can be. “None of this would actually happen. I mean, why would it?”

"Why not?" you barely let out a whisper.

His fingers drag slowly down your sides, feather-light, torturously teasing. He’s pretending to think, pretending to be thoughtful, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. “You and me, coming home after a night like that, all dressed up, all tense and wired… and me just…” His hand glides over your hips. “Peeling you out of this dress and fucking you over your vanity?”

He hums, tilting his head. “Seems a little far-fetched, don’t you think?”

You inhale sharply, your body practically trembling from restraint.

He leans in again, lips just at your neck now. “You haven’t said much,” he whispers, his hand brushing lower, just enough to make you flinch. “Should I stop?” His fingers press gently into your thighs now, possessive even in their softness. “Because we’re faking it, right?” He lets out a slow, amused breath. “And I’d hate to make things confusing.”

You swallow hard, your mouth dry, your skin flushed everywhere.

“Unless you want me to keep going,” he murmurs, eyes locking with yours in the reflection, darker now, heavy with intent. “But you’d have to say it, sweetheart.”

His fingers trail between your legs, light as a threat.

You grip the edge of the vanity with white knuckles, heart pounding in your throat. “Wooyoung…”

His hand slides up, over your stomach, between your breasts, up to your throat, never squeezing, just there. Possessive. Protective. His lips trail along your shoulder, just above the strap of your dress, while the other hand finally finds the zipper.

“I’d take you like this,” he says lowly, kissing the back of your neck. “Make you look at yourself while I ruin you, slow… deep… mine.”

Your knees nearly give out.

He presses forward just a little more, breath ragged now against your skin. “But maybe we should stop.”

You whimper, actually whimper, and shake your head.

“No, please,” you whisper, your voice breaking apart like the last wall crumbling. "Don't stop."

His hands freeze for just a moment, then he smirks, low and satisfied.

“There she is.”

His smirk deepens, wicked, triumphant. He doesn’t say a word.

Then, with deliberate force, he turns you.

Your back meets the cool edge of the vanity. Before you can fully catch your breath, his veiny hand is already on your throat, firm but careful, guiding your head back just enough to look up at him.

You gasp from the way it makes your knees go weak, the way it makes your heart stutter in your chest.

His gaze drops to your lips. Then slowly, almost torturously, he leans in, breath brushing your mouth, letting you feel the heat of it before he claims you.

The kiss is devastating. Nothing sweet. Nothing soft.

His mouth crashes into yours like he’s starved for it, tongue, teeth, everything. He takes and takes, groaning low in his throat the moment you moan against him. That tiny, helpless sound makes his fingers tighten slightly on your neck, his other hand sliding possessively down your side to your hip.

“God, you sound so pretty when you do that,” he breathes between kisses, voice wrecked.

You melt under him, into him, letting him press you back against the vanity like he wants to fuse you to it. He breaks the kiss with a growl, breath hot against your lips, then suddenly, he spins you again.

You can’t speak. You can’t think. All you can do is feel his hands on your hips, feel the way his body aligns with yours so perfectly it’s almost cruel.

“Still pretending?” he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Or can I finally touch you like I’ve wanted to all fucking night?”

You nod before he even finishes the sentence. "Yes-, yes please," you whimper, hips tilting back into his, head tipping to give him more of your neck.

He chuckles under his breath.

“Thought so.”

You don’t have a chance to respond before his hands are on you again, more urgent this time. His fingers find the zipper of your dress, and he pulls it down, letting you feel every inch of his focus on you.

The dress slides off your body, pooling at your feet, and he’s quick to step back just enough to take you in. His eyes rake over you like he’s starving. You stand there, vulnerable, under his gaze, and you can’t help the way your body reacts to him. The heat between your legs intensifies, the ache in your chest growing stronger.

“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes raking over you from behind. “You’re a goddamn dream.”

You gasp as he presses you into the vanity, your body trapped between the cool wood and the heat of him. His hands slide down to your thighs, pulling them apart slowly, giving him access, making sure you feel every moment of it. His voice drops to a velvet growl. “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby. Right here.” His lips press behind your ear again, “Tell me you want it,” he demands.

And you can’t hold back anymore. The tension in your body snaps, and you nod, your breath quickening. “I want it.”

He smirks, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Good girl.”

His hand presses firmly between your thighs, rubbing you through the soaked fabric with just enough pressure to make your legs weaken beneath you.

He chuckles against your skin when he feels you tremble. “Already this wet for me, baby?”

You nod helplessly, and his free hand slides up your back, tangling in your hair, pulling your head to the side to expose more of your neck.

His teeth graze your pulse point, and you moan again, louder this time. "Look in the mirror as I touch you."

Your breath stutters, lashes fluttering as your gaze locks on the reflection. “Fuck, Wooyoung…” you whisper, already unsteady, your thighs trembling under his stare alone.

Then, with no warning, he hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and drags them down your thighs, letting them fall. Cool air brushes against your wetness, and your whole body jolts in response.

“Jesus-” you exhale, shivering.

His fingers slide through your slick folds, slow and deliberate, just enough pressure to make you twitch. You moan, sharp and helpless, eyes fluttering closed for a second until he tuts softly beside your ear.

“Eyes open, sweetheart. I said look.”

You obey, forcing your eyes to the mirror again, and the sight of you, glowing, needy, lips parted, legs trembling, draws a sound from deep in your throat.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing just below your ear. “Let me take care of you.”

Then, he pushes in, just one finger at first, thick and deliberate. He doesn’t rush. He presses in knuckle by knuckle, watching your face in the mirror as your lips part and your back arches. The way your body welcomes him makes his cock twitch under the fabrics.

“There we go,” he whispers, dark and pleased. “So fucking tight.”

He gives you a moment to adjust, curling that single finger just right, then pulls back, almost all the way, before pushing in again, deeper this time. You whimper, soft and broken.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw. “You let me in so easily.”

When he slides in a second finger, your knees nearly give out, but he catches you, pressing his chest to your back and flattening his palm over your belly.

You cry out, raw and desperate, body jerking in his arms.

“Right there,” you gasp. “Fuck, right there-, don’t stop, please don’t stop-”

His lips trace your jaw, voice molten.

“Good girl,” he whispers, moving his fingers just the way you need. “Let me hear you.”

And you do.

Loud, unfiltered, desperate for more.

Your hands grip the edge of the vanity. He watches in the mirror as your face twists in pleasure, breath shuddering every time he pumps into you. He doesn’t relent. His fingers are steady, coaxing, relentless, fucking you precisely, like he’s memorizing every reaction.

“Tell me how it feels,” he demands softly.

“So good,” you breathe. “It’s-, god, Wooyoung-”

“That’s right,” he cuts in, curling his fingers deeper. “Say my name like that.”

He shifts just slightly, just enough to hit the spot that sends stars bursting behind your eyes, and keeps that rhythm. Over and over.

“Come on,” he whispers against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you?”

You nod, desperately, eyes fluttering shut.

But he doesn’t let you. His free hand curls around your throat, not squeezing, just holding, guiding you back to the mirror.

“No. Look,” he growls, his voice low and possessive. “I want you to see how good I make you feel. How pretty you look falling apart just for me.”

You force your eyes open, lips parted, eye makeup already smudged, breath shaking, and what you see unravels you: his body pressed to yours, his hand moving between your legs like he owns you, his gaze fixed entirely on your reflection.

The sight of it, the feeling of him everywhere, inside and around you, tips you over the edge.

You cry out, helpless and raw, as your body clenches hard around his fingers. He doesn’t slow. He works you through it, murmuring praise against your ear.

“That’s it,” he groans. “That’s my good girl. So fucking beautiful when you come for me.”

Your hips jerk, grinding into his palm as your orgasm pulses through you, long and overwhelming. When the waves finally ease, your body limp and trembling, he slowly withdraws his fingers, slick and shining.

You shiver, eyes fluttering shut as he presses his hips against you, the thick hardness of him pressing against your thighs.

He suddenly guides you forward, one hand on your back, he presses you down firmly, bending you over.

“Stay just like that,” he commands, stepping back slightly to admire the view, your ass pushed out, your eyes wide in the mirror, lips already parted. “Fuck. Look at you.”

Then you feel it, his hands on your thighs, spreading them, dragging his fingers slowly along your skin. His shirt hangs open, wrinkled and useless now, clinging to one shoulder, exposing his toned chest, flushed and rising with every harsh breath. His palm presses to the center of your back, bending you over the vanity with a firm, unyielding push.

“Stay like that,” he murmurs, voice low and dark. “I want you spread out. Pretty. Obedient.”

You obey without thinking, chest against the cool surface. Then, with excruciating slowness, he undoes his belt. The sound alone makes your breath hitch. He keeps his eyes locked on yours in the mirror as he pushes his pants down just enough and frees himself, fingers wrapping around his cock like he’s been aching for this.

And when you see him… you go still.

He’s thick, long, flushed and heavy in his hand, already glistening at the tip.

Your gasp escapes before you can stop it.

“Oh?” he smirks, stroking himself lazily, intentionally, letting your eyes drink in every inch. “Surprised?”

You hear the sound of him spitting in his hand, stroking himself once, twice, and then that thick, hard length is sliding between your folds, teasing your entrance.

His hand slides into your hair, not rough, but controlling, guiding your eyes back to the mirror.

“Eyes on the mirror,” he commands, hand fisting your hair just enough to lift your gaze. “You’re gonna watch what it looks like when your best friend finally fucks you.”

Then, with one slow, devastating thrust, he sinks into you.

Deep.

Possessive.

Claiming.

He groans behind you, head falling forward, one hand gripping your hip tight enough to bruise.

“God-, fuck, you’re big,” you gasp, hands scrambling to grip the edge of the vanity.

He pulls out halfway, then slams back in, hard enough to make the vanity rattle.

You gasp, fingers scrambling for the edge, and he laughs behind you, breathless.

“More,” you cry, pushing back into him, shaking. “Don’t stop-, fuck, please don’t stop.”

“You want more?” he hisses, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head up so you’re forced to look at yourself in the mirror. “Look at this mess. Look what I’m doing to you.”

He slams into you harder. Filthy. Relentless. His palm lands on your ass, then rubs over the sting like he owns every inch of your body.

Then he snaps, hips continually slamming into you with a rhythm that steals the breath from your lungs. Over and over again. The sound of skin against skin echoes, obscene and raw, as he pounds into you like he’s lost all restraint. He leans over you suddenly, chest pressing to your back. His breath fans hot across your skin as his lips find your shoulder.

He kisses it once. Then again, slower.

“You gonna come like this?” he demands, voice thick and breathless. “Bent over, ass red, stuffed full of me?”

“Yes-,”

But he doesn’t let you come.

Not yet.

Just when your body tenses, right on the edge, he pulls out halfway and stills.

You let out a sob, raw and desperate, collapsing onto your elbows against the vanity.

“No…” you whimper, voice trembling. “Why’d you stop?”

“Because I said so,” he growls behind you, breathing hard. “And if you’re mine now… you come when I let you.”

A sharp slap lands on your ass, the heat blooming instantly, making you cry out and he grins at the way your thighs twitch, how your body tries to grind back into him without thinking.

“Oh, you like that,” he mutters, dragging his palm over the curve of your ass, then gripping both cheeks hard, spreading you open as he groans. “Look at this view. Fucking perfect. So pretty and messy for me.”

His hand grabs your wrist, dragging you upright, spinning you to face him. His mouth crashes into yours in a messy, heated kiss, all teeth and tongue and breathless need. You barely have time to cling to him before he’s walking you backward toward the bed.

“You think I was gonna finish you over a vanity?” he growls against your lips. “Not a fucking chance.”

You fall back onto the mattress with a gasp, legs spread slightly, chest heaving, body already trembling from the way he’s used you, and he just stands there for a second, looking down at you like he’s never seen anything more perfect.

Then his eyes narrow.

“Spread your legs wider.”

You do, instantly.

His shirt is half off, a desperate tug of fabric, and as he pulls his pants fully down, he’s not wasting any time to let you get a full look at him. His cock stands heavy, dripping with need, leaking as he strokes himself with a low growl.

You open your mouth, but the words die as he moves closer, kneeling on the edge of the bed. His hand wraps around your ankle and drags you toward him, his grip firm, claiming. He leans over you, one hand planted beside your head, the other dragging slowly along your inner thigh.

“Tell me,” he demands, brushing his nose along your jaw. “Did it turn you on? Knowing he saw you with me? Knowing he saw how badly I wanted to rip that dress off you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, breath hitching.

Then he’s kissing you again, slower this time but just as possessive. His hand wraps behind your neck, holding you in place as he takes what he wants, savoring your reactions, feeding off every moan that escapes you.

“Look at this,” he mutters, gaze locked between your legs. “So swollen. So wet. All for me.”

His hand drags slowly down your stomach, the heat of his palm branding every inch of skin it touches. It’s not hurried, no, it’s maddeningly slow, his fingers grazing along the dip below your navel, making your muscles jump with anticipation.

Then his fingers reach your folds, gliding through your slickness, deliberately lazy. You twitch under his touch, hips tilting up instinctively.

And then-

He slaps your pussy. Open palm. Quick.

The sound cracks through the room, sharp and obscene. The sting hits you a second later, blooming heat across your center, and your whole body jolts, legs trembling.

“Fuck-!” you cry out, back arching off the bed. “Wooyoung-,”

He smirks down at you, all dark satisfaction. “Oh yeah,” he says, eyes heavy with lust. “You liked that.”

Before you can catch your breath, he does it again. A second slap, just as sharp. The impact makes your thighs jerk apart, a cry tearing from your throat.

He moans, actually moans at the sight of you coming undone. “God, you’re so fucking hot when you take it like that.”

Your body is pulsing, burning, begging.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, breath hot as he leans closer, dragging two fingers through your folds again. “Dripping. You get this wet from just my hand?”

He rubs your clit in tight, quick circles, pressure unforgiving but just right, sending sparks up your spine. The contrast of pain and pleasure makes your head spin.

Your hands grip the sheets hard enough to cramp. “Fuck, Wooyoung-, don’t stop-”

He chuckles low and hungry. “Didn’t plan on it.”

With one smooth motion, he shifts, settling between your thighs. His cock, thick, flushed, already leaking, presses against your entrance, the tip catching on your slick folds. He rubs himself through your arousal, slow and teasing, just enough to make your hips chase him.

You try to lift your hips, to take him in, but he pins you back down, eyes wild.

“No. I get to fuck you when I say so,” he growls, mouth crashing down onto yours, kissing you hard, deep, messy, like he’s starving. Like your mouth is the only thing that’s ever tasted good.

When he finally thrusts in, it’s a single, brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt and knocking the air right out of your lungs.

“Fuck,-” you gasp, eyes rolling back.

He doesn’t give you a second to adjust before pulling back and slamming into you again, the force of it leaving you breathless.

He doesn’t stop. He grabs your wrists, pins them above your head, body caging you in like a predator. His mouth finds yours, kissing you like he’s drowning, messy and hot and desperate. Teeth, tongue, breathless moans between every clashing movement.

“Don’t you dare look away,” he growls against your lips. “Look at me while I fuck you.”

So you do.

His pupils are blown, his hair a mess, sweat on his brow, mouth parted. But it’s his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like you’re all he’s ever wanted, and that makes your heart slam against your ribs.

You’re gasping, crying out, and he swallows every sound, his kiss never softening, only growing more frenzied as his hips pound into you.

“You feel that?” he pants into your mouth. “That’s mine. This pussy’s mine.”

He lets go of your wrists just long enough to grab your thigh, throw your leg over his shoulder, driving deeper, angle harsher. His grip is punishing, like he needs to hold you down to keep from losing his mind.

“Shit-,” you sob, clinging to him now. “You’re so deep-, I can’t-,”

“You can,” he growls. “Oh, fuck, baby-, that’s it,” he smirks, sweat dripping down from his neck. “You feel so good-, so fucking tight, so wet, I could stay buried in this pussy forever.”

He drops his head to your neck, biting and sucking bruises into your skin, marking you as his hands move constantly, palming your breast, gripping your hip, dragging across your thigh, he can’t stop touching you.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Let me make you feel so fucking good.”

You clench around him and he nearly loses it, thrusts getting sloppier, harder, messier. He grabs your jaw, forces your eyes to his.

“Please-, Wooyoung, I’m close-”

“Yeah? Let me hear you. Come for me. Come on my cock, baby, let me feel you.”

And it hits you, fast and deep, your whole body tensing as pleasure crashes through you like a wave you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

Wooyoung watches it take you, and it wrecks him.

“God, baby,” he growls, suddenly losing all rhythm, all control. “You feel so-, fuck, I’m not gonna last-,”

You reach up, grabbing his face with both hands, forcing him to look at you just like he did to you. “Don’t stop. Give it to me.”

That does it.

With a strangled moan of your name, he buries himself in you with a final, desperate thrust. His whole body tenses as he gives in, letting himself fall apart.

You can’t help but look at his face as that wave of pleasure overtakes him. His mouth is parted, lips trembling with the sounds he can’t hold back, brows drawn together in a tight knot like he’s fighting to stay grounded. The muscles in his jaw twitch, veins standing out along his neck and arms, his whole body straining as he spills everything into you.

When he finally exhales, it’s a ragged, shaky breath, and his body slowly relaxes, chest rising and falling heavily as he tries to come back down. He doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t say a word. He just lowers his weight over you gently, careful not to crush you, his face pressing into the crook of your neck.

You can still feel the warmth of him inside you, the lingering tension of release pulsing between your bodies.

Then he lifts his head, just barely, and looks down at you, really looks. His gaze roams over your flushed cheeks, kiss-bitten lips, the way you’re still dazed and boneless beneath him.

And then he grins. Slow, smug, wicked.

“God,” he says, voice low and pleased.

You blink up at him, heart stuttering. “What?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just lets his eyes drag over you like he’s memorizing everything. The mess he’s made of you. The way you still haven’t caught your breath.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says simply, but it lands heavy in your chest. “Like… stupid beautiful.”

Heat rushes to your face. You instinctively turn your head, trying to hide the way your lips curl, the way you can’t even look at him right now.

But that just makes him laugh, low and breathless.

“Oh no,” he murmurs, fingers catching your chin, turning your face back to his. “don’t get all shy on me now. Not after the things I just did to you.”

“Wooyoung-“ you try to protest, flustered, but it’s useless.

He shifts suddenly, his hand pinning your wrist to the bed as he leans in, eyes blazing. “Nope,” he growls playfully.

When his mouth crashes into yours, it’s not sweet or teasing, it’s intense. Deep and all-consuming, like he’s starving for you. His tongue claims yours, every movement deliberate, dominant.

When he finally pulls back, barely an inch, his lips are swollen and his voice is wrecked.

“I’m never gonna get enough of you,” he murmurs against your lips. “Never.”

***

You wake up slowly, the soft light of the morning creeping into the room, bathing everything in a warm glow. His arm is still draped over you, his breath steady and calm. You shift gently, trying not to wake him, but you can’t help but linger for a moment, watching his peaceful expression. He looks so content, so relaxed, last night still feels like a dream.

Carefully, you lift his arm from your waist and slip out of bed. As you stand, you glance back at him. His face is soft, his black hair a little messy, and the sight of him, even in his sleep, makes your heart flutter. You try to suppress the smile that tugs at your lips, but you can’t help it.

Quietly, you make your way to the kitchen. The cool air of the morning greets you as you open the cabinet and pull out his cereal box.

You’re perched on the kitchen counter, bare legs dangling, quietly munching on a bowl of Wooyoung’s ridiculous neon-colored cereal. The box sits beside you, obnoxiously bright. You’d teased him for years about how awful it looked, and secretly craved it every time.

You hear the soft shuffle of feet before you see him.

Wooyoung emerges from the hallway, shirtless, his hair a messy halo of waves, eyes still heavy with sleep. He looks like a dream and somehow worse for your heart in the morning light. A familiar ache stirs in your chest. This is your best friend. Your roommate. The same guy who left his laundry in the hallway and screamed at horror games.

The same guy who had his hands all over you last night and made you come like no one else.

“Morning, roomie,” he mutters, voice low and rough, smirking when his eyes catch yours. They linger. “Is that my cereal?”

You nod, trying not to choke on it now that your mouth’s gone dry. “It was calling to me.”

He walks right up to you, stepping between your legs like he’s done it a thousand times. Only now, there’s nothing innocent about the way he crowds your space.

You glance down, gripping the bowl a little tighter. Your voice comes out quieter than you meant. “You, uh… want some?”

He doesn’t answer.

Just takes the spoon from your hand, still warm from your touch, and scoops up a bite like it’s nothing. His other hand settles on your thigh, casual but firm. You forget how to breathe.

He hums like it’s gourmet. “God, I love this shit.”

You try to roll your eyes, but it’s weak. He’s too close. Too warm. Too real.

And then, without warning, he leans in close, mouth brushing your ear.

“Good morning, beautiful,”

Before you can say anything else, before your heart can fully flip in your chest, he kisses you.

It’s soft at first, like he’s testing the waters, but then it deepens, and the world around you fades. There’s no rush, no frantic need, just the slow, steady push and pull of lips, the quiet hum of connection between you two, something that’s always been there but is only now being acknowledged.

His lips linger just long enough to make your stomach twist in the best way before he pulls back, barely.

You stare at him, still a little dazed. He smirks.

“What?” he says, all fake innocence. “You gonna yell at me for stealing your cereal or for kissing you?”

You eye him, lips twitching. “Still weighing my options.”

He shrugs, hands still warm where they’re resting on your thighs. “Take your time. I’ve got all morning.”

“You’re literally the most impatient person I know,” you mutter.

“Mm,” he hums, brushing his thumb just under the hem of your shorts, right where it makes your breath catch. “Not when it comes to you. I like watching you squirm too much.”

You exhale a laugh, trying not to give him the satisfaction. He just grins wider, enjoying seeing you like this.

It’s completely unfair, the way he looks so relaxed. Like this, you and him and whatever happened last night, isn’t a big deal. Like waking up tangled together, touching each other like that, was just the natural next step.

And maybe… maybe it was.

“You know,” he adds after a beat, glancing at your bowl again, “I thought about that last night.”

“What, the cereal?” you ask, trying to level your voice.

He nods, all faux-innocent. “Had this whole internal debate. Go finish the box or save you some.”

You squint at him. “You didn’t even eat any.”

“Exactly.” He grins. “Fell asleep. Dreamt about it. Woke up, and there you were. Stealing the first bowl like some greedy little gremlin.”

You scoff. “Wow. Rude.”

“And hungry,” he adds, stealing your spoon without looking. He takes another bite, still watching you, chewing like he’s thinking about sin. “Might be craving something a little messier, though.”

You scoff, but your thighs tense around his hips, pulling him in closer. He feels it. Of course he does.

You think that’s the end of it, but then he tilts his head a little, voice dropping. “Also, you were real cute sneaking around out here like I couldn’t hear you. Hair all messy. Wearing nothing but your-”

“Stop,” you cut in, already feeling the heat crawl up your neck.

He just laughs, clearly enjoying this way too much. “I’m just saying. Round two almost happened right then and there.”

You shoot him a look. “I was literally getting cereal.”

He leans in, lips brushing your cheek again before he murmurs, “Yeah, and you still looked hot.”

You go quiet, too aware of his mouth near yours and the fact that he’s still standing between your knees like he belongs there.

You open your mouth, no idea what you’re even going to say, but he’s already leaning in.

And then he kisses you again, easy, unhurried, like it’s just what he does now. Like kissing you is second nature.

And god, maybe it is.

TAGLIST: I only have one main taglist, so if you wish to be added/removed, then let me know! xx @lveegsoi @vixensss @yizhou-time @imgenieforyou-boy @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @ateezswonderland @cozypaint @blutiny @aerangi @arigakittyo @femaholicc @queenofdumbfuckery @mingiatz @hwaskookies @vent-stink @desanslogique @taestrwbrry @hannahstacos @tinyteezer @gold--gucciempress @zhangyi-johee @sunnysidesins @spenceatiny18 @yunhoswrldddd @beljakovina @soso59love-blog @trivia-134340 @skzfangirl143 @spicxbnny @h0rnyp0t @mingimangomu @no-nottoday @roguesthetic @hwas-star @tsuukamori @londonbridges01 @nayutalvr @purplelady85 @lover-ofallthingspretty @awkward-fucking-thing @luvbgy @thuyting @p1ecetinyzen @eumpappasmom @marsofeight @maidens-world @girlblogger-04 @renapersa @lol-imtrash2000 @melitadala @yoonglesbae @bby-boo4u @babymbbatinygirl @dalsuwaha @diekleinesuesse @beccaskz @les4heeseung @oddin4ry @manu2004 @mingimangomu @intowxnderland @chaotic-floral @toxicstrawberries @musicconversedance @insanityz @therealcuppicake @darkdayelixer @soobieboobiebaby @thevintagefangirl @​​fireseo @smileyishere92 @faerouzia @zerefdragn33l @lover-ofallthingspretty @yup-thats-me @trivia-134340 @mochi13

[ateezscupid]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, 𝒀𝑶𝑼. ─ series masterlist. 5 . 31 . 25

ꕮ ─ chapter has smut.

SYNOPSIS. A serial killer, whose M.O. is luring women he finds on dating apps to secluded areas and murdering them in cold blood, becomes obsessed with you after your one nice gesture at a crowded nightclub. You, oblivious to him being a serial killer, fall for him. And unexpectedly, he falls for you too. When realizing that he has actual, true feelings for you, he wants to stop killing to have a life with you.

GENRE. BxG. Psychological thriller, Drama, Romantic Thriller blah blah blah, Smut, Angst.

WARNINGS. This mini-series will talk about and include very sensitive topics (ex., murder, death, slight gore, HEAVY yandere themes, among other things). Each chapter will have their respective warnings, but if any of the topics mentioned before make you uncomfortable, I don't suggest you read this. Here are other relevant warnings: taboo stalker x victim/yandere themes, non!idol au, small age gap (23 & 26), heavy language, alcohol and drug use (nothing serious), unprotected sex, unestablished relationship.

Author's Note: I CANNOT stress this enough: this is not meant to depict Yunho in any way. This is a work of pure fiction. I am not trying to romanticize or sexualize any of the dark themes in this either. This is dark romance. And yes, this is based of the series' "You" and "Somebody."

ꕮ ─ 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, 𝒀𝑶𝑼.

001 ─ Fiesty Girl.

002 ─ Gentle Illusion.

003 ─ Infiltrated. ꕮ

004 ─ Pretty Boy. ꕮ

005 ─ Puzzle Pieces.

006 ─ I'm Always Watching. ꕮ

007 ─ Devil's Tango. ꕮ

008 ─ Eyes Open.

009 ─ Stay With Me. ꕮ

010 ─ Life or Death. ꕮ

011 ─ Split.

012 ─ Finale.

[flwrkissed-deactivated20260113]

𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 — 𝑪.𝑺

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut MDNI

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: Boyfriend San x fem!reader

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: soft dom!San, lots of praise, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie...I think that's it?

𝑤𝑐: 2.3k

𝐶𝑜𝑠𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: everyone thank @vampzity for this lovely idea to write about even though i didnt portray it how i wanted to but its okay🙂‍↕️ (and here you go @strrykais)

𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒙𝒂 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 "𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔" 𝒃𝒚 𝑲𝒂𝒊... (my library) not proofread!

The soft amber glow of the city lights spilled through the half-open window, draping the room in a warm golden wash. Curtains fluttered gently with the breeze, and somewhere in the distance, traffic murmured—a low hum beneath the intimate quiet of the apartment. The music playing was smooth, sultry, the mellow beat wrapping around the space like silk, perfectly mirroring the heat still lingering in the air.

San stood by the window, one arm propped against the sill, his body swaying slightly in time with the music. The song was familiar, the kind you didn’t just hear but felt, and it painted him in soft shadows and warm light, every line of his body relaxed but alert—like a predator at rest.

His eyes drifted to you, and something shifted in his chest. You were sprawled comfortably across the plush sofa, your head resting lazily against the armrest, legs tucked beneath you in a casual tangle. The throw blanket half-draped over your lap had fallen slightly, revealing bare skin where your shorts had ridden up. You looked so at peace. So soft. So completely his.

San felt the ache again—the same one he always did when he looked at you like this. It was a kind of longing that had nothing to do with distance. It was intimate ache, a fullness that made his chest feel tight and tender at once. You were right there, and still he wanted closer.

You caught him staring. A lazy smile tugged at your lips, your eyes half-lidded with contentment as you extended a hand toward him.

“You’re staring again,” you said, voice low and rough with sleep, but still laced with amusement.

He pushed off the windowsill with a small huff of laughter, walking toward you slowly—like the moment deserved reverence. When he reached the sofa, he didn’t sit. He dropped to his knees in front of you, resting his cheek against your thigh with a sigh, like he’d just come home.

“Can you blame me?” he murmured, voice like velvet against your skin. “You look like a dream.”

Your fingers moved to his hair instinctively, nails grazing his scalp in soft, languid strokes. San’s lashes fluttered as he melted into your touch, eyes closing in quiet bliss. The connection was electric in its gentleness—no rush, no urgency, just the hush of devotion.

“You’ve been clingy lately,” you said, teasing, though your voice betrayed your fondness.

San didn’t open his eyes. “Have I?” he whispered. “Or have I just been finally letting myself feel how much I love you?”

The words landed heavy, cutting through the air like a prayer. Your breath caught—his voice didn’t waver, but it was thick with sincerity. San could joke, flirt, tease—but when he meant something, it came out like this. Quiet. Undeniable.

He turned his face and pressed a kiss to your thigh. Then another. Slow, lingering touches like benedictions. You felt each one spark against your skin, warm and reverent. It wasn’t just affection—it was worship.

“You smell like peaches,” he said, low and breathy, lips brushing your skin with each syllable. “Sweet. Addictive.”

“I used that new lotion you like,” you replied, the softness in your voice echoing the warmth in his.

His eyes met yours, dark and glossy beneath his lashes, and there was a flicker of hunger behind the tenderness—like your answer lit something inside him. “You did that for me?”

“I always do things for you.”

That broke him a little. A quiet, affectionate sound left him as he surged up to kiss you—soft and sweet at first, like he was trying not to crush the moment. His lips were warm, moving over yours with practiced gentleness. But it didn’t stay that way. Something inside him gave out, like a dam breaking, and the kiss deepened. His tongue slid past your lips, slow and searching, tasting, savoring.

His hands slid beneath your shirt, palms warm and sure against your skin. He didn’t rush—just explored. The pads of his fingers glided along your sides, up your back, over your ribs—like he was reacquainting himself with every inch of you. His touch was reverent, greedy in its softness. Like no amount of closeness would ever be enough.

Like you were his favorite thing in the world to touch—and tonight, he had all the time in the world.

“Come here,” he murmured, lifting you from the sofa like you weighed nothing. His arms were steady, strong, but his touch was gentle—as if you might shatter if he held you too tightly. He carried you to the bed and laid you down with reverence, hovering above you with worship in his eyes, every movement steeped in quiet awe.

“You sure?” he asked, breath brushing your lips, his voice raw and barely above a whisper.

“I want you,” you breathed. “Always.”

San kissed you like a vow, like each touch of his lips was sealing something sacred between you. He trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, his lips warm and slow against the curve of your neck. When he reached the hollow of your throat, he lingered—sucking a tender mark into your skin, one that throbbed with heat and promise.

His hands moved over you like he was mapping something long lost—rediscovering you in slow, reverent sweeps. Each brush of his fingers left tingling trails in their wake, like your skin was blooming beneath his touch.

He tugged your shirt up and over your head, carefully—almost ceremoniously—discarding it, like it didn’t deserve to touch you anymore. His gaze roamed your body like he was memorizing every curve, every dip. His fingers skimmed down your sides, over the rise of your stomach, then lower, ghosting along the waistband of your underwear.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, voice rough and low. “So pretty... so fucking perfect.”

He kissed his way down your torso, soft and deliberate. At your navel, he paused, mouthing at the skin with a gentleness that made your breath hitch. His tongue flicked out, teasing, warm, before he looked up at you through his lashes, dark eyes glassy with need.

“Can I taste you?” he asked, voice hushed and reverent. “Please.”

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat.

San hooked his fingers into your underwear, drawing them down slowly—agonizingly slowly—dragging the soft fabric over your thighs with care like he didn’t want to miss a single second of seeing you. Once they were off, he parted your legs, his hands firm but tender, and knelt between them like he was in prayer.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his eyes fixed between your thighs, pupils blown wide. “You’re dripping, baby. All for me?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. His mouth was on you in the next breath, tongue dragging from your entrance to your clit in one slow, deliberate lick that made your hips jolt. He groaned—deep and low—like the taste of you set something feral alight inside him.

He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking softly before flicking his tongue over it again and again with maddening precision. The heat of his mouth, the wet sounds, the rhythm—it made your whole body tremble.

Your fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles white, a broken moan tearing from your lips. “San—”

“Hmm?” he hummed against you, the vibration buzzing straight through your core. He pulled back just slightly, breath hot against you. “You taste so sweet. I could stay here all night.”

Then his fingers were slipping inside you—one, then another—curling them just right until he found that spot that made your legs twitch. He set a steady pace, his fingers thrusting deep and slow while his mouth moved in perfect tandem, devouring you with a messy, unrestrained hunger.

Wet sounds filled the room—lewd, slick, sinful—broken only by your soft cries and the groans he let out against you, like he couldn’t get enough.

“San—fuck—please, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me,” he murmured, voice dark and coaxing, mouth brushing your skin. “I want to feel you come on my tongue.”

That did it. You shattered—back arching, a cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you. He didn’t stop. His tongue kept moving, fingers still working you through it, pushing you past the peak until your thighs quivered around his head.

Only then did he pull back, lips slick with you, his eyes glassy and dark, drunk on the taste of you.

“You’re shaking,” he said, voice soft, climbing up your body like he couldn’t stand to be far from you.

You barely managed a nod, your limbs weak, vision hazy.

He kissed you, deep and slow, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. It was intimate—possessive—like he was claiming you all over again.

“I need to be inside you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours, breath ragged. “Need to feel you around me.”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely there. “Please, San. I need you.”

He pushed his pants down with shaky hands, urgency and restraint battling in every movement. His cock was already hard—flush at the tip, veins prominent.

He lined himself up with your entrance, guiding himself in inch by inch, stretching you so slowly it bordered on torture.

“F-fuck,” he gasped, voice caught in his throat. “You’re so tight. So warm. Feels like you were made for me.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him deeper, keeping him close as he began to move. His thrusts were slow and deep at first, grinding into you with measured intent, dragging gasps from your lips with each roll of his hips.

He watched you the whole time—eyes wide, almost desperate—memorizing every flutter of your lashes, every moan.

“You feel so good,” he panted, his voice breaking. “So good for me, baby. Taking me so well. Fuck—my perfect girl.”

Each thrust struck that sweet spot inside you, building your pleasure until your body was trembling again. He kissed everywhere he could reach—your throat, your collarbones, the swell of your chest—like he needed to taste every inch of you.

One hand slid beneath your thigh, lifting it to angle you just right, and when he drove in deeper, he moaned—a low, broken sound that made your whole body shudder.

“So deep… fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

The pressure coiled again in your belly, fast and overwhelming. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your breath quickening.

“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, voice cracking. “San, I—”

He reached down, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing quick, tight circles that made your vision blur.

“Come with me,” he begged, voice cracking with the weight of it. “Please. I wanna feel you—wanna feel us come together.”

Then his eyes locked with yours, glassy and tender, his voice breaking again.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty when you take me like this.”

That pushed you over the edge. You clenched around him, crying out as your orgasm tore through you, white-hot and dizzying.

San followed with a guttural groan, hips stuttering before he buried himself deep and spilled inside you, holding you so close like he’d never let go.

He didn’t move right away. Just stayed there—deep inside you, breath shallow, his forehead pressed to yours. You were both shaking, hearts pounding in sync, wrapped around each other in the silence after the storm.

San collapsed beside you, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, and before the sheets had even settled around him, he was reaching for you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you into his chest like he needed to feel your heart against his to believe this was real.

His breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling in heavy, shallow waves, but he still leaned in, pressing kiss after kiss to your skin. Your forehead. The bridge of your nose. The corner of your lips. And then your mouth—soft, lingering pecks that spoke of awe and gratitude.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and tender, the kind of whisper meant only for you. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing lightly under your eye, gaze flicking over your features with reverent concern.

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath as you buried your face into the curve of his neck. His scent overwhelmed you—clean sweat, soft cologne, and something uniquely him. Your voice was muffled when you spoke, but full of honesty. “That was… everything.”

He laughed, quiet and breathless, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. “You’re everything,” he murmured, like it was the simplest truth in the world. His arm tightened around your back, holding you even closer.

His fingers moved lazily along your spine, sketching invisible patterns into your skin. Hearts. Circles. Random loops. The rhythm was slow and soothing, grounding you both in the weightless calm that followed the storm.

“You always make me feel so loved,” you whispered, barely more than a breath, but it filled the space between you with something soft and sacred.

San shifted just enough to meet your gaze, eyes wide and shining in the dim light. “You are loved,” he said, voice suddenly intense—fierce in the way people speak when they need you to believe them. “So much. I don’t ever want you to forget that.”

You smiled, your lips brushing his collarbone as you tucked your face closer. The warmth of his skin, the steadiness of his heartbeat, the way his arms never let up—he made it so easy to believe him.

“Can we stay like this forever?”

San exhaled a soft chuckle, resting his chin against the top of your head. “As long as you want, peach.”

The word slipped out like second nature—his favorite nickname for you, drenched in affection. The room was quiet, the air still thick with heat and the faint scent of sex, mixed with the soft, fruity hint of peach body wash lingering on your skin.

And in the center of it all was San—tender, warm, and wholly yours—cradling you like you were something sacred.

Because to him, you were.

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