Dear Diary, In unity there is everything or whatever fangs and sweet pea say. A black woman 27 loves her babies and part of a lot of fandoms. Be safe and love all you beauties 😍MY DMS FOR REQUESTS ARE FOREVER BLESSED OPEN FOR YOU AND SMUT SWEETHEARTS TOO! 😍 m.list
synopsis: you think you might be dating an angel on earth. but it’s easy to be led astray by the temptation of an old fling.
warnings: MDNI, ~10k words, pwp not proofread, fem reader, toxic wooyoung, emotional cheating, lots of cursing, mentions of smoking and drinking, switch wooyo & switch reader (?), nasty unprotected sex (mentions of hair pulling, slapping, spit, f oral, leg humping, cum eating, orgasm control, cream pie, praise & degradation, ‘baby’ and ‘pretty’ as pet names, dirty talk, choking, etc.), you make every bad choice possible, seonghwa’s a sweetheart.
notes: this is a reupload from much earlier in the year, the longest fic i’ve ever written. it was an idea i posted and then scrapped because i couldn’t get it to work how i pictured. but after months, it’s finally done. special shoutout to @minkieater and @beforethesunisrisingup for their encouragement on the original post 💘 i listened to ‘tempted’ by avara and ‘can’t get you’ by jaehyun on loop for hours while typing this out
you are content. if you ignore the messages you receive from an unknown number, how an anonymous account has been the first to view your story, and the embarrassing number of times you check his profile daily.
the calls and the stalking are both him. there's no one else it could be, and he's too obvious. only because he wants to be, and you know that too. he's always been one for dramatics.
so you ignore it. it's easy to, at first, with a shiny new boyfriend: seonghwa. unfairly handsome, well-built, and so sweet you almost feel undeserving. he's slightly older than you, yet so much more mature than the men you've met. and for the first time, it feels like someone wants to take you seriously.
his timeline is steady and his patience is unnerving. flirting lasted two weeks before he asked you out, you went on dates for two months before he asked to be your boyfriend, and now you're hoping it's only another two minutes before he does something more than kiss you.
because if he wanted to fuck you, he would, right? he would subtly hint at it and tease you until you admitted that you want him just as badly. he would kiss you breathless and laugh as you chased his lips. he would want you to initiate, to take unapologetically. that's what you were used to. that's how your brain had been wired, through a system that rewarded your greed.
if you were naive enough to answer the text messages blowing up your phone, that itch could be scratched. you would not have to do more than give him a look.
seonghwa's leather couch shifts under his weight as he angles his body towards you, "you're quiet tonight. is everything okay?"
"i'm stressed,” you lie, putting your phone on the armrest and hoping he can’t see the brightness of every notification through your privacy screen.
his gaze is tender as he studies your features. you’re not sure what he’s looking for, but he finds it and hums in understanding.
hands sneak under the blanket and hook themselves around your legs, pulling them onto his lap, “is this okay?"
you nearly roll your eyes at how careful he is, but the worried curve of his pillowy lips makes it hard to be annoyed, “yes. hwa, you can touch me, you know?”
"i know,” he agrees, flashing you a pretty smile, “but i don't wanna make you—”
"—if i were ever uncomfortable, i would tell you.”
he hesitates before nodding, his hands just barely grazing the underside of your calves in slow motions, “good. what's on your mind?"
"i have… a lot of pent-up energy i want to take out,” you reply, fighting the urge to guide his hands higher, closer to where you need him.
there’s a second of silence as his adam’s apple bobs, and your eyes trace the movement.
"maybe we could, uh, go on a walk?" he asks, almost like it hurts to get words out.
his slender fingers are a little firmer on your skin, but just as slow, and you want to claw at the leather underneath you. you need it to be tonight. unlike him, you feel your patience running thin, and you’re so far gone that you could settle for dry-humping and messy kissing.
“do you need me to beg for it?”
"what?"
you exhale sharply, shoving the blanket to the side, moving your legs off his lap, and straddling him in a few swift movements. he startles, hands retracting to his sides as you settle down on him.
a frown etches itself onto your features and you take his hands in yours and guide them up your thighs, past your hips, and up your sides. his skin is soft on yours, and you nearly shiver as you lean closer, “please, i need you. please. do something, i can’t wait.”
"don’t beg,” he breathes out, struggling to look you in the eyes, “you never need to beg me for anything.”
your hands move off of his and you feel his grip on your sides loosen, but you can’t settle for that. not anymore. so you lean closer until his lips meet yours.
the kiss is charged with unbridled want, and your body doesn’t lag. as soon as he begins kissing you back, your hips begin to grind against his, the fabric of your shorts catching against his sweats.
his lips part in a moan at the feeling, and for the first time, he takes initiative by moving a hand from your waist to bring you closer by the nape of your neck. it’s different from his usual hand against your cheek, and his slipping restraint fans the flame building in your guts.
but he makes no other move— he doesn’t lean into your touch, his hips don’t grind up against yours, and he doesn’t even try to guide your movements by your waist. it’s more like he’s letting you use him rather than indulging in you.
“fuck,” he murmurs as he moves away from your lips, a strangled huff slipping past his mouth. his eyes trail down to where your hips meet his and his eyes squeeze shut. “fuck, you’re making this really difficult.”
rarely did he curse around you, if at all. but you found yourself becoming addicted to the expletives dropping from his pretty mouth, taking them as signs that he was affected by you. it makes you dizzy, the knowledge that he’s trying his hardest to be respectful and failing.
“seonghwa,” you say, slowing down your movements on his lap, “don’t you want me?”
there’s a moment of hesitation as he stares at you like you’ve just slapped him, “of course i do. this isn’t about what i want, it’s about… you’ve told me about the guy before me. i don’t want to make you feel the way he did.”
well, maybe not emotionally. because you might die if seonghwa couldn’t make you feel how he did physically.
your breathing quickens at the mention of the guy who’s surely still blowing up your phone. you resist the urge to glance at the device resting on the armrest of the couch.
seonghwa continues, his expression sincere as his hand moves away from under your shirt. he places it over yours where it rests on his chest for leverage, “believe me, it hurts me to say no. but i want to do this right. i want it to be special, for you to be completely sure of me. i want trust and connection and… i don’t want you to think i only want this from you. can you wait a little longer?”
embarrassment, hot and stinging, rushes through your body as you abruptly stop moving. you could feel him, hard underneath you, and you’d be impressed with his restraint if it wasn’t stopping you from getting what you wanted.
“okay,” you agree with a nod, climbing off of him with averted eyes, “yeah, i’ll wait.”
he looks at you with what feels like pity in the moment, a hand circling your wrist, “i’m not rejecting you, angel. i respect you, and i care, and i really want to show you that rather than tell you. is that okay?”
maybe you should be flattered. he isn’t treating you like a piece of meat, like something to be claimed and then tossed. but your nerves feel like they’re on fire with need and you can’t help the frustration building up. “that’s okay. thank you, seonghwa.”
“you don't have to thank me,” he replies with an easy smile, as if the past few moments didn’t happen, you aren’t dripping, and his pants aren’t straining against his hard-on, “you deserve better than a quickie on my couch on a random night.”
you aren’t sure if he’s right. but you mirror his grin until the moment he drops you off at your place with a kiss to your temple.
for the first time since your failed attempt at initiating sex, you check your phone. it’s another one of those nights, apparently. there are weeks of radio silence. some days you only get a view of your profile and no texts. others you get a single call while you sleep. but tonight, it’s one the ones where he spams your phone. you read only the last few.
unknown number | are you still with the guy?
unknown number | the one with the long hair
unknown number | i stalked his profile
unknown number | he seems nice? good for you
unknown number | too nice though
unknown number | bet he doesn’t fuck you how you like
unknown number | probably doesn’t know how to handle you
unknown number | or how fucking greedy you are
unknown number | don’t pretend you don’t miss me
unknown number | bet you even kept our videos
unknown number | i kinda wish i had sometimes
he stopped texting around an hour ago. and it might be the frustration, but you respond for the first time in months.
you | who is this?
the reply is immediate.
unknown number | fuck
unknown number | i knew it
unknown number | hi baby, it’s been too long
unknown number | answer my calls
the regret doesn’t even reach you before you’re typing back.
you | stop spamming
you | i’m content with him
he sends a thumbs down reaction to both messages.
unknown number | no thanks
unknown number | and ‘content’ is funny
unknown number | not happy?
unknown number | probably not pleased, i can tell he doesn’t know
there it is. how easily he knows exactly what to say to get under your skin.
you | doesn’t know what, wooyoung?
that one message changes the conversation entirely. he stops typing and takes longer to respond. when he does, it’s an audio message. you regret playing it as soon as you hear the honeyed voice coming from your speakers.
“got tired of typing,” he murmurs, taking a deep breath before continuing, “but i’m glad you’re not pretending anymore.”
you nearly pause the message and toss your phone, but you hear that familiar laugh and your thumb hesitates.
“you know, i promised myself i wouldn’t go stalk his page. but i couldn’t help myself tonight. i’m a little drunk. you can probably tell, huh? but what the hell is your type? we’re nothing alike,” you hear the sounds of him typing on a keyboard before he continues, “graduated from a good university, close to his family, models for his friends' clothing brand— wow. i’m almost happy for you.”
as always, he wants a reaction. you bite the inside of your cheek.
“if you’re listening at this point, he must not be as good as he seems, huh? what is it? bad breath? does he make you split the bill?” he giggles at his own jokes and you shake your head as if he can see you, “but i know what’s more likely. i bet he can’t handle you. not like i can.”
it ends there. abrupt, like he accidentally cut himself off and sent it anyway. you keep the message out of muscle memory and wince when you realize he’ll see you saved it.
unknown number | wow
unknown number | i thought you wanted to be left alone?
you | i do
unknown number | so go ahead and block me
you | i do what i want
unknown number | i know that better than anyone
unknown number | it’s my favorite thing about you
you don’t reply. another few minutes go by before he sends another audio message.
“do you remember the time…” he interrupts himself with breathless laughter, “the first time you asked me to come over and not the other way around? i remember. i think about it all the time, don’t you? up until then, you acted like it wasn’t mutual. and after that, you started calling me over like i was getting paid for it.”
there’s a small pause. you hear fabric shifting around, “you started using me like a fuckin’ toy. i loved it. i loved it cause you were just as mean as i needed. god, it was hot.”
your neck heats up at the memories. how he would smile unabashedly at you as you used him to get off, with no concern for his own pleasure. animalistic.
“i still don’t understand why you cut me off and gave me a speech about using you. that’s such bullshit,” he says, tone melting into something lower, “you caught feelings and you were embarrassed. pushing blame onto me doesn’t erase that.”
your phone pings with a good night text from seonghwa and you swipe it away as you keep listening.
“i did kinda take advantage of the fact you liked me. a little, i won’t lie. but it was so easy with you. there wasn’t any pretending, no dinner as boring foreplay, you were straight to the point. i miss that. you. your skin and how good you smell. and i can’t believe i’m missing out on it over some guy who would probably feel sick if you told him half of what we’ve done.”
your stomach sinks at his comment, the way he laughs it off like it means nothing. the worst part, you like it. you clench at the desperation climbing into his voice the more he speaks, the way he’s so direct about his desire.
“if you didn’t block me, i’m assuming you still have our videos. i wonder if you watch them and get off to them,” his voice wavers, “fuck, i‘m already hard thinking about it. call me. call me anytime, whether you’re done with that guy or not. i’ll come over like i used to. everything could be like it used to be.”
the message ends there. you have two minutes to keep the memo, and you nearly do, just to replay the last part and hear the whine in his voice that he tries to suppress. but the message disappears and you’re in the same exact spot on your bedroom floor, face warm and panties even wetter than before.
wooyoung doesn’t say anything else. not another call or text, doesn’t even like a message.
he’s put the ball in your court.
and he’s right, you have the videos. as proof that you weren’t crazy, that he had murmured a few ‘i love you’s while his hips were pressed against yours. that it had been real and not something to scoff at like he did when you asked for more.
“what more could you want?” he’d said, and you stopped replying to his texts soon after. you fell back against his mattress a few more times out of weakness, but you finally gathered the strength to leave. you met seonghwa only a month later.
the first message you received when you posted your new boyfriend was from that anonymous account. ‘you’re quick,’ is all they said.
too quick, you think. seonghwa’s name glows on your screen and you ignore it.
right now, you’re so worked up you would do anything to get off.
the easiest way? the videos saved in your hidden folder in your camera roll. whether you chose his favorite, with you in doggy and a close up of where you were connected, or yours, where he had you in a mating press with his lips against yours the entire time, was completely unimportant.
guilt would eat you alive anyway.
the texts stop coming in. the mysterious spam calls and the views on your stories disappear. in their place comes an all-consuming force: regret.
it’s only been a week since you’d received those voice messages from wooyoung and gotten off to his voice. you had scrolled through your hidden folder like a lunatic, watching short clips and long videos that told stories that hurt to remember as much as they hurt to forget.
the earliest video he’d recorded spontaneously when you were both so turned on you during a house party that you could barely think straight. that night is too fresh in your mind; it had started with you grinding on a strange man to prove a point. it ended with wooyoung’s hand pressing your face against the cold marble of a bathroom sink.
another short clip not long after, focused on the bounce of your hips against his, your reflections in his full length mirror barely visible. he had a crazed look in his eyes, the look you mistook for affection no matter how many times he’d reminded you it wasn’t.
you hate first few videos. taken around the beginning of the year when you’d started hooking up. the way he talked to you was clipped, like he knew nothing about you other than how good you felt around him. most of them cut off right below your neck, with your face down and the focus of the video on your ass or the arch of your back. his groans were strained, and his hands were as shy as they could be for someone like him. it wasn’t the man who would hold your hand as he ate you out or the man whose thumb would graze the peak of your cheekbone as he pleaded against your lips for ‘one more’.
the videos dated in july were once your favorites. they were slower, more sensual. if you try hard enough, you can will yourself to believe that he meant every word that dropped from his lips. wooyoung, the man who used to fuck you like he was in a hurry to leave before the sun set, was almost delicate during the summer you spent together. your hand would wrap around his neck, and the tanned skin of his cheeks would cave in with those deep dimples you’d learned to love. he would hold you impossibly close to him, head tilted back, awaiting a string of spit from your lips. his tongue would clean up the tears trailing down your face after his hand came down too harshly between your legs. neither of you were below begging. it’s why you went well together.
perhaps the intimacy he constructed was one you weren’t meant to indulge in. when mumbled ‘i love you’s filled the minimal space between you, you should have ignored them, the way he ignored every request for him to stay the night. the illusion was supposed to remain unaddressed; he was always going to deny that he meant anything he said. wooyoung’s words were worth as little as your self-respect. because even when he’d laughed in your face, clarified his lack of intention, and pushed you away, you crawled back into his bed. too many times to count. more than you are willing to admit to yourself.
even now, your thumb hovers above the button that could delete the entire album of videos you’ve kept. it would take two clicks, but the idea of losing that evidence terrifies you. so you chicken out, tossing your phone to the side in frustration. it bounces on your mattress once before landing on the smooth wood of your floor with a soft thud.
when you lift the device back up, the screen is shattered.
wooyoung is counting down the days. his calendar is full of circles and marks in black pen. friends’ birthdays, due dates at work, parties to attend. the winter is full of events and holidays, but none as important as the date he has marked in red. one week ago, the day you’d finally caved in.
it’s not like he’s obsessed with you or anything, but you hurt his pride back in august, when you’d ended things. he thought you were bluffing. that you’d come back on a late night like always, too ready for someone who had cussed him out hours earlier. but you didn’t.
he was stuck in complete silence from you. he’d texted and called to no avail. he even considered showing up unannounced, but that was desperate. desperation wasn’t the role wooyoung took in your exchanges.
a few days passed, then a few weeks, and before he knew it, you had a new toy to keep you busy. namely, park seonghwa. he was admittedly handsome and well-off from the looks of his profile. the kind of guy that gets you flowers just because. the kind that writes you sappy messages while you sleep. the kind that meets your parents and friends with shaky hands because he cares and he wants to make a good impression.
everything wooyoung isn’t.
to say wooyoung is jealous would be an overstatement. sure, if he could choose his life, he wouldn’t mind ending up like seonghwa. but wooyoung had taken too many left turns along the road for that to ever happen.
he tried to move past you. called a few girls over, kicked them out afterwards, like he used to.
it didn’t work. not for long, anyway. the foggy nights would tide him over for a few days, keep him off your profile and away from your contact. but the feeling never lasted.
as he looks through your profile for the hundredth time, he isn’t sure what exactly is keeping him there. he decides it must be the hit to his ego. the fact that things ended before he decided he was done.
a little ‘s’ captions a highlight you have pinned, and wooyoung scrolls through it. it’s like all the typical couple’s highlights– dinner dates, flowers, sunsets– boring. so unlike you.
he wonders if the smiling man has any idea he exists and hasn’t even been blocked. he wonders what kind of story you told him about your past relationships.
all he knows is that seonghwa has probably seen your posted pictures as often as he has. probably jerked off to them and felt shame afterwards.
wooyoung can’t relate to that feeling. not even now, as he undoes his belt buckle, glancing at the calendar next to his desk.
he gives it another two weeks before everything falls back into his hands.
the late autumn afternoon is particularly silent. only wind rushes against your windows, creating a small howl that you’d find creepy if your mind wasn’t so preoccupied with figuring out the exact shade of white paint on your ceiling.
your room is a complete mess, pairs of pants strung across the back of your desk chair while two large trash bags hold old clothes you’re not sure you’re ready to let go of.
you know you’re spiraling. there’s an unfinished bowl of oatmeal too close to the edge of your nightstand, probably already gone bad with how long it’s been sitting there. you can’t remember if you even checked that you turned off the stove before frantically deciding to deep clean your closet. but you decide to stay on the ground rather than check.
with a frustrated swipe of your hand down your face, you feel around the ground to find your phone. when your fingers reach the cold device, you pause. who could you even call and tell all your worries? you had impulsively ghosted your therapist after they doubled their prices. that wouldn’t work.
so you scroll through your contact list, ready to give up and post anonymously on a forum, before you reach a name that pulls you out of your stupor.
cee, your previous roommate. the girl who had seen you sob over expired ice cream after one of those weeks at work. the one who gave you a live demonstration of her first time when the electricity went out and the two of you were bored out of your minds. nothing was considered oversharing with her.
you bite the inside of your cheek, hoping the time difference in her new city won’t kill your chances at reaching her.
“cee,” you mutter in relief as the line picks up, placing your cracked phone next to your ear, “i really need your advice.”
cee scoffs on the other end of the line, “whoa, no ‘hello’? ‘how are you’?”
“sorry, hi. i saw you post that you got promoted, and i forgot to congratulate you. seriously, congrats. you deserve it. uh, how’s the city? your girlfriend?”
there’s a soft laugh on the other end of the line before she replies, “thank you, but you’re rambling. we can catch up later. what’s the matter?”
your veins rush hot blood through your limbs, “this might be really tmi.”
“girl,” she replies, completely unimpressed, “please, spare me. spill, now.”
“okay. well, you know seonghwa, right?” an enthusiastic hum vibrates through your speaker, “and… wooyoung?”
there’s a moment of silence before you hear a quiet ‘yeah’.
she doesn’t need the backstory. she was with you the night you met wooyoung outside a house party in january. he smiled like he’d won something when you accepted his coat to put over the dress you’d insisted on wearing despite the threat of snow. she’d bumped into him in your shared living room when he was sneaking out after a late night. she’d seen you delete his number and unfollow him on everything after a pep talk.
you talk about everything from july onwards: meeting seonghwa through a mutual friend and clicking instantly. the social media stalking and the insistent calls. the cute romantic dinners and personalized bouquets. back and forth, like a ping-pong game.
cee doesn’t stop you, only interrupting for clarification when you mumble or trail off. when you’re done, there’s a moment of silence on her end.
“so… you have your dream guy, but you’re stuck on wooyoung,” it sounds more like a question than a statement, but she schools her tone, “okay. i mean, he is practically a rebound.”
“he is not!”
silence.
“okay,” you concede, scratching the side of your face, “sorry, i don’t know why i’m getting defensive. he’s… you’d really like him.”
“he sounds like a dream,” cee offers, and you can picture her pressing her lips together as she contemplates how forward she should be. “but… maybe not a wet one?”
you feel ashamed at how easily that pulls a laugh out of you, “it’s not like i don’t want him, but it’s discouraging to be rejected so much. and like… he wants me too. he said so. just not now, i guess.”
“uh-huh,” she hesitates before continuing, “there’s something you’re not telling me, though.”
“...i told him about wooyoung.”
that seems to appease her worry, “okay, good, that’s honest. maybe that’s why he’s being careful.”
“it is,” you pause, “this is so embarrassing but… last week, i tried to initiate. we were making out, and i started grinding on him, and he was really into it until he kinda stopped me and told me he wanted to wait. that he didn’t want me to think he was like wooyoung. and that i deserved to have something special. more than a quickie.”
your ac whirrs quietly in the background as you wait for a response. you wish you could see her face right across from you, twirling a curl around her finger, and watch her brown eyes give away her every thought. desperately, you want someone to agree with you mindlessly, but you need her honesty.
“am i supposed to root for wooyoung here, or..?”
“you’re not supposed to root at all, i need you to tell me what to do.”
her tone is a little harsher than you expect, “you need to stop self-sabotaging and stay with someone who actually gives a fuck.”
“but listen… wooyoung texted me that night. like non-stop. i was so overwhelmed with everything that i actually answered.”
cee shrieks, and you send her the screenshots as proof. she reads the texts and the transcript of the first voice message in complete silence, and you take the chance to fill the line with the most humiliating part of your story.
“he’s right. i have every single video, and the whole situation with seonghwa had me really frustrated, so i went back and watched them and i… you know?”
“oh my god. wow, this is bad. like really, really bad.”
“i know, i know,” you groan, head tipping back as you spread your body on your wooden floor, “i don’t know what to do.”
“i love you so much, but i think you need to,” you hear her fumble her words for a few moments before she sighs, “step back. break up, heal fully from that piece of shit, and move forward. delete those fucking videos. i’m so serious. the dick could not have been that good.”
you let the last statement linger and she inhales sharply.
“seriously?”
“yeah,” you mutter, nodding to yourself, “i didn’t even know i could squirt until he—”
“okay. okay, let’s not get nostalgic. delete the videos. tell seonghwa most of the truth. that you’re not fully healed and you don’t want to string him along, and… leave out the ‘i masturbated to old sex tapes with the man you hate after you blue-balled me’ part.”
the rest of the conversation is a blur as your mind wanders to the exact words you’ll say to your boyfriend’s face. you can only hope they make it past your lips, regardless of how shiny his eyes might look or how deeply he furrows his thick brows.
seonghwa always smells like jasmine and something softer, a comforting scent that always lingers on his clothes. it surrounds you like an embrace as you step into the living room of his apartment, one tiny lamp in the corner of the room giving you just enough light to guide you into the space.
“you okay?” seonghwa asks too sweetly, his eyes studying your features. the pad of his thumb swipes gently across your cheek to get your attention, mimicking the motion of wiping away a tear that isn't there. not yet, anyway. “talk to me.”
you inhale sharply at the kindness of his touch, the warmth you didn’t deserve. “sorry, i probably scared you coming by so late, but… it’s bad, seonghwa.”
he nods, never one to invalidate your words. the clock ticking behind you calls his attention: 2am. not a likely time for him to be up. but with the sight of your frown, he suddenly feels awake. “maybe it is. i still want to help.”
there are a few moments of hesitation. your mind is at war with itself, and it doesn’t help that he holds eye contact patiently, like he’s waiting for something he knows won’t arrive. but he tries, and that might be the worst part.
the words feel heavy on the tip on your tongue. you turn them over, taste the bitterness, try to swallow them and keep them buried. another swipe of his thumb right underneath your eye coaxes them out.
“we should break up,” you blurt, head tilting away from his touch.
“what?”
the small lamp flickers, the buzz filling the split second of silence, “we need to break up. this is so unfair to you. it’s really, really unfair and it’s wrong of me to keep you around for myself when i know i’m not over everything.”
his lips part with a soft interruption, “hey. slow down, you need to breathe. three deep breaths, okay?”
your eyes flutter with surprise. as if that wasn’t the response you were expecting. kindness. worry. him.
you follow his instructions without a second thought, but the expansion of your lungs feels tight, nearly uncomfortable as your heart thrums wildly in the same confined space between your ribs.
“okay,” he continues once he’s counted three inhales, “there you are. sit.”
“no, seonghwa—”
“i’m gonna get you water,” his voice drops to a near whisper, “and you’re gonna wait for me on the sofa, okay?”
“okay.”
after what feels like an eternity, he returns with a mug in his hands. it’s the mug you’d made when you went on a pottery class date, the one with your initials scrawled on the bottom. the water is cool as it passes down your throat, doing its job at soothing your nerves.
seonghwa sits beside you, keeping his hands to himself as he watches you take small sips in between breaths. he tries to appear calm, but his hand trembles slightly as he threads it through his silky hair.
the mug clinks softly against his wooden coffee table, and you talk. you tell him most of the truth like you’d planned. you tell him how you’re overwhelmed, not fully healed from your recent past. you explain that you need time, that it’s not anything he’s done, and that you want to stay on good terms. you wonder if he thinks you only say that to keep him as an option.
he’s nodding in acknowledgment the entire time, searching your features as you run out of breath trying to get everything out at once.
“i’m sorry, angel,” he fixes the strap of your tank top neatly over your shoulder, distracted for a second before he meets your eyes again, “i rushed you, didn’t i?”
you shake your head in firm disagreement, but he continues before you can get a word in.
“i got too excited. i overwhelmed you when i knew exactly what you were still processing. what still hurts you,” the corners of his pink lips turn down. “i thought i could help. but i should’ve given you time. i should’ve kept my feelings to myself for your sake, let us be friends a little longer. i was selfish and too quick.”
selfish.
“what the hell is your problem?” san scoffs when wooyoung stands up with so much force that the couch creaks as it shifts a few inches.
the latter holds his hand up, eyes jumping around his phone screen like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. he reloads the page once, twice, and a third time just to be sure.
the highlight with the little ‘s’ is gone.
“san, get out,” he practically commands, turning to his friend when he remains seated on the leather couch.
the larger man frowns, nose scrunching in distaste, “are you high? this is my place. i told you not to smoke before coming over, i hate the smell.”
“shit, you’re right,” wooyoung grabs his jacket off the back of the cushions, “and i’m not high, fuck you. i quit months ago.”
san pouts at the harsh words, voice tapering off, “i know. you quit because of that girl.”
“what?”
“you quit around the time you were messing around with that girl. you stopped being so antsy all the time. but you never even told me her name,” his arms spread onto the back of the couch, watching as wooyoung’s hand freezes around the doorknob.
“that’s not true.”
“okay.”
“you don’t believe me?”
san shrugs like it doesn’t concern him in the slightest, “i know what i saw. we all do.”
the room feels smaller as wooyoung takes a few steps back into the studio apartment, “who’s we? what the hell does that mean?”
“everyone, woo. i mean, all the guys watched you freak out in real time when you got blocked or whatever.”
he can’t gulp down the defensiveness climbing into his words, “i did not get blocked.”
a fragile kind of quiet invades the room. the two men stare at each other, neither making any move to continue the conversation. it was a dead end anyway, it always was when this topic came up. the word ‘fling’ was practically banned within their friend group.
a sharp beep interrupts the moment, and san looks up to the smoke detector on the ceiling before muttering to himself, “oh, that needs new batteries.”
wooyoung nods, hand landing back on the doorknob as he adjusts his jacket under his arm. he feels like he’s waiting for permission of some kind, the cool metal under his palm doing little to battle the excessive heat his skin radiates.
san seems to contemplate something before deciding against it, popping his neck with a smile, “sounds like you.”
“oh, fuck off. i need to make a call.”
“to who? the hiring manager at jongho’s office?”
“i’m not working in a cubicle at a company i don’t care about. it’d be bad enough to have jongho as a coworker,” wooyoung’s eyes narrow as he waves in dismissal.
the smoke detector beeps again and san glances at it momentarily, “you could use the stability. working commission forever is a little crazy.”
wooyoung raises a brow at his friend’s concern, “i do well for myself.”
“because you’re hot and the old rich ladies love younger men. but you don’t actually care about luxury coats and bags, either. you’re just afraid of being tied down to something.”
“i like fashion. i could work in fashion for a while, it’s exciting. it keeps me on my toes.”
“but you don’t love it.”
wooyoung looks off to the side, at the mirror hanging right by the entrance. his eyebrow piercing glints softly, and he adjusts it before turning the doorknob, “i don’t think you’re talking about work anymore, and i hate when you start talking in metaphors, so i’m leaving.”
“make the right call, wooyoung.”
the other side of the line is surprisingly silent when you pick up. there’s static noise, fabric ruffling momentarily, and then a soft breath.
“finally.”
the three syllables make you nauseous, and you pull your phone away from your ear, opting to set it down on your pillow. just after a thorough shower, you’re already feeling gross.
the honeyed voice continues, “i was right.”
your stomach flips. there are so many things he could be talking about. maybe he’d somehow found out what you’d done after those voice messages a little over a week ago. maybe he was reminiscing about one of the many times you cussed him out without letting him get a word in. “what?”
wooyoung huffs, eyeing his calendar, “nothing. when did you break up?”
“today,” you answer before you can help yourself. “you knew that, though.”
“mhm. how are you holding up?”
“i broke up with him,” you explain, as if that answers his question.
“i assumed. doesn’t make it any less difficult. you were content with him.”
you feel a familiar flutter deep in your chest as he uses your own words against you, a teasing lilt in his voice. “what do you want, wooyoung?”
“i can’t check up on you?”
“a bit late for that.”
he laughs, short and surprised, and you imagine the dimples hollowing his cheeks. your skin buzzes with anticipation, like he’s conditioned you to react to his voice. “ouch. i honestly am calling to hear your voice, though.”
your room starts to feel too hot, and you peel your robe off your body, throwing it to the foot of your bed before responding, “why won’t you just let this die?”
you’re baiting him. you want to hear him confirm that all those words he’d said in the heat of the moment weren’t in vain. that this was still salvageable, somehow. that it mattered.
wooyoung doesn’t know the answer to that question himself. he takes another look at his calendar before shrugging, picking at the lint on his pants, “isn’t that a mutual decision?”
“i did my part, i told you to leave me alone.”
he takes a few seconds before retorting, “you’d also tell me to slow down, all while pushing back onto me. you like to lie.”
“i’m not a liar.”
he exhales softly, “yeah? what’d you tell seonghwa?”
perhaps you answer him immediately because of the fact that he’s infinitely worse than you. anything you’ve done wrong once, he’s probably done a million times over. “that it isn’t his fault, and i need time.”
wooyoung chuckles, light and airy like you remember, “wow. what a speech. i almost believed you too.”
you grit your teeth, hating how his words make your chest rise and fall a little quicker, “it’s true.”
“partially,” he murmurs, “but it doesn’t really matter what you told him. what matters is you picked up.”
“only because i guessed that you’d keep spamming my phone if i didn’t.”
he hums, deep in his chest, “that’s a good guess.”
you lie down, turning to face the pillow where your phone is still resting. you close your eyes, pretending he’s there with you, like one of those rare nights he’d stay back and talk. you wonder if his hair is still half-bleached, if his brow ever settled down after the piercing he got, or if he’s marked his tanned skin with any new tattoos.
he takes your silence as a cue to keep pressing, “do you remember what i told you when we last spoke?”
you don’t open your eyes, the pad of your thumb brushing idly over the waistband of your underwear, “to call you.”
“that’s what you took from our conversation? not the part where i told you i missed you?”
a grin pulls at your lips, “that’s only partially true.”
“it’s fully true, for both of us. i know you miss me too.”
it hits you right then that wooyoung is nothing like seonghwa. he always sounds sure of himself, never hesitates to call something out the way he sees it. even when he’s wrong, he has a way of convincing you otherwise. but he’s not wrong this time, not when you feel arousal pooling in your lower abdomen.
so you do as he taught you all those months ago. you allow yourself to shamelessly take, to trail your hand down without a doubt, because he hated hesitation more than anything.
“no,” you manage to keep a steady tone as you push the cotton to the side, “i don’t. i need you to stop—”
he interrupts, “i know what you need. let me come over and show you.”
you cringe internally at his interruption, but the urgency in his voice sends another thrilling wave through your body, “we’re done, wooyoung. we’ve been done for months.”
“doesn’t mean i’ve forgotten anything,” he notes, taking a deep breath, “please. please, i’ve been waiting for you.”
you squeeze your eyes a little harder, hips involuntarily twitching to meet your hand. you’re building a torturous pace, the kind he’d use when he wanted you to snap at him. as much as he liked your disgruntled reactions, he always refused to give in, wanting to take his time taking you apart.
you think back to the middle of spring, the night he kept his mouth on you for hours, unwilling to move away until you admitted that no one else compared to him.
“are you… touching yourself?” wooyoung asks, his voice trailing into a warm laugh before it stops, like the realization hits him just as hard as the embarrassment hits you. “oh, fuck, you are.”
your heart races, stopping your movements as you straighten up on the bed. how could he possibly tell? “what are you talking about?”
“you are,” he replies decisively, not a hint of doubt in his voice, “i knew you were desperate, but this is almost sad, baby.”
“don’t call me that.”
“then deny it.”
you can’t. because you know he can probably imagine you accurately enough, and it bothers you to no end. how he always acts like he knows you, because he does. there’s a few shuffling noises on his side, and you apparently take too long to respond because he takes your silence as an affirmation.
“you didn’t come,” he says matter-of-factly, “should i help you? guide you over the phone like i used to? or is your door unlocked? can—”
“stop, wooyoung. you’re hearing things. i shouldn’t have picked up. go fuck one of your friends and stop calling.”
“don’t blame this on me. no one forced you to stuff your hand in your panties while i talked. that was all you,” his tone is sharp, his words drowning out his footsteps. he echoes his question from earlier, a little firmer this time, “is your door unlocked?”
there’s a certain sense of comfort in fucking wooyoung. you never had to shave, you could fuck him with dried drool on the side of your face after a nap. he never cared so long as he could get your lips on him, and it was nearly reassuring to see how much someone could crave you in every form.
so when he shows up mere minutes after you hang up, you let him in. you don’t think he’ll even turn to look at the empty water bottles littered on your wooden floor or the dishes piled up impressively high in your sink, not when he’s busy getting as close to you as humanly possible.
“hey, look at you,” he rasps, running his hand through hair that’s longer than you remember. you hug your robe a little tighter around yourself as he makes a show out of looking you up and down, asymmetrical eyes burning through you. “even prettier than i remember.”
“just do what you’re here to do, wooyoung,” you reply, not stepping back when he begins to crowd your space.
a crooked smile pulls at his lips, and he’s quick to abide. one hand settles on your waist, tugging you closer, while the other wraps around the back of your neck.
but that’s too easy. and you’ve been too easy for much too long, so you decide against it last minute, just as he’s dipping down for a kiss. your hand covers his mouth, and you push back slightly.
“apologize.”
the one word floats in the air between you, weightless with how quietly you said it.
wooyoung doesn’t fight it. he meets your eyes, taking a half-step back before slowly sinking to his knees.
“i’m sorry,” he says, brown eyes still pouring into yours, “for everything.”
he emphasizes his words by sliding his palms to the backsides of your legs, just above your knees. he moves closer, enough to rest the side of his face on the fabric that covers the top of your right thigh.
“i said things i didn’t mean,” he adds, sharp jaw dragging against cotton, “i would take everything back, if i could.”
you stare for a few moments, taking in the sight of the beautiful man groveling at your feet. his hair obscures his eyes a bit, the underside no longer blonde. you push the strands away from his forehead, using that as leverage to pull his face away, “and?”
“and i’m gonna make it up to you,” he responds hurriedly, eyelids lowering slightly as you tilt his head further back.
he’s basically saying nothing, and you know it. his apology is a string of words you want to hear, but not an acknowledgment of guilt. it makes you angrier, more determined. for what? you aren’t sure.
the look in his eyes stirs something deep in your chest, and you surprise yourself as you put your right leg further out in front of you. he looks confused for a split second before his hand leaves your left thigh to undo the small knot keeping your robe together.
“no,” you reprimand, moving his hand away, “you get my leg.”
for the first time since you’ve met him, wooyoung seems genuinely taken aback. “what?”
you don’t repeat yourself and hope your silence comes off as firm, not nervous.
he swallows, eyes flicking from your face to your exposed leg. there’s a moment of hesitation before he readjusts himself, positioning your shin right between his legs. then, he tentatively grinds up against your skin. the friction of his sweatpants against your leg burns just slightly, but you decide it’s worth it when you see his jaw clench.
his movements start off slow, but soon enough, he’s full-on humping your leg. muffled expletives drop from his full lips, chest heaving when you use the grip on his hair to pull his forehead away from your side.
“you’re fucking pathetic,” you say over his lewd noises. shameless, just like everything else about him, and the thought only spurs you on. “calling me, texting me, stalking my account. did nobody wanna fuck you? i bet they wouldn’t, after seeing this.”
you’re not even sure where all your words are coming from. they’re dropping from your lips like they’re rehearsed, with venom and confidence only he could get out of you. he chokes on a groan, hips moving like they have a mind of their own, “no— no, just you. i missed you. didn’t you miss me? fuck, our saturday nights?”
he’s smiling dazedly, so close to the edge he can practically taste it, but you yank his head away from you before letting go of his hair. “get up, wooyoung.”
you move your right leg back, enjoying the way his whole body folds towards you as you rip his pleasure away. he places his hands over his knees, leaning his weight forward as he stares up at you, “what? can you give me a second to catch my breath? i—”
“stand up,” you cut him off, stepping closer when he does as he’s told. “fuck me, and go home.”
he doesn’t need to be told twice, lips on yours in record time. it’s messy and full of unspoken frustration, but it’s yours. familiar in all the wrong ways as he strips out of his sweater.
the walk to your room is short, and he manages to tug your robe off your body before climbing over you on the mattress. you’re bare underneath, and he hums in approval as he tugs his slacks down, “i’m trying not to finish just from seeing you again.”
“shut up,” you lean back on your elbows, giving him a disapproving stare that only serves to humor him.
he frees himself from his boxer briefs, leaning down so that he’s lining up with your entrance. you take a deep breath in sheer anticipation, and he appeases you with a slow kiss, “you’re already so wet for me. you can take it, baby.”
you relax against the mattress as he continues kissing you, two fingers spreading you open for him. he slides between your folds a few times before pressing in with a moan against your lips.
“fuck, hold on,” he props himself up, watching as you hold your legs up for him. he screws his eyes shut, the view below him sending sparks of heat down his spine. “i’m close, from earlier.”
if anyone else were to finish prematurely with you, you would absolutely complain. but this was wooyoung, the man who would rather die than have a partner of his go around saying they were left unsatisfied.
so your legs come down, wrap around his waist, and pull until he’s buried in you to the hilt.
wooyoung’s eyes fly open and find yours, a small laugh tumbling out of his lips, “you’re… fuck, squeezing me like crazy. relax.”
“just fuck me already,” you retort, hands traveling up his toned torso, tracing the tattoo on his ribs, “it doesn’t matter.”
his brows pinch when one of your hands pulls him closer by the base of his neck, “i’m gonna come inside if you keep—”
“then do it,” you challenge, heart leaping when he wastes no time and begins to thrust into you shallowly.
a moan of his name slips past your lips as he adjusts his angle, thrusts becoming more pointed as his mouth sucks a mark into the underside of your jaw.
“i know,” he mutters against your skin, but the words sound more like provocation than comfort, “that’s it, baby, don’t run from it.”
your bare chest meets his when he hits the spot only he’s managed to find, and your head tips back at the intensity of the feeling, “you’re so good, right there.”
“yeah? you’re so pretty, i bet he wishes he knew this body like i do.” the words get lost somewhere in the heated space between you, and wooyoung picks up his pace. he brushes his lips against your cheek when you complain, “just a little more, yeah? i need…”
he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you’re squeezing the sides of his neck hard enough to rip a whine from his throat. he only gives two more pumps before he collapses on you, panting against your neck.
a few moments pass before his weight comes off you, and he carefully pulls himself out. even as he’s softening, he twitches at the sight of your mixed arousals dripping out of you.
one of his hands holds the back of your thigh up, pushing it closer to your torso, as his other hand spreads you further.
a groan rumbles in his chest as he leans down, tongue licking a broad stripe up to your clit. he glances up to gauge your reaction, smiling when you immediately cover your mouth with your palm.
“uh-uh,” he tuts, kissing the inside of your thigh before climbing back over you. his larger hand holds your jaw as he kisses you, tongue swiping against yours. you can taste him and then yourself distinctly on his tongue, but the exchange muddles everything into one tangy mess. “see how good you taste with me? how good we taste together?”
the playful smile on his features reaches his eyes, and you’re almost convinced he isn’t aware how brutally those words made your heart twist. he pushes you up the bed when you nod in absentminded agreement, settling on his stomach with your legs thrown over his shoulders. “hurry, woo.”
“don’t rush me,” his hands pry your legs further, and when he’s satisfied, he places his strong forearm right over your waist. “i said i’d make it up to you, so i’m taking my time.”
he places a gentle kiss on your clit, the kind of action that had confused you just months earlier. it’d made you think your arrangement was much more than it ever was. even now, you couldn’t help but clench around nothing at the view.
“such a sensitive pussy,” he mumbles to himself, blowing air right on your center before diving in. the tip of his hooked nose presses against your clit as he uses his tongue to tease your entrance. “and so pretty, too.”
after so long without stimulation, your body suddenly feels like it’s on fire, abdomen muscles tensing desperately under his gaze. he laps you up eagerly, moaning when you do, sucking on your clit rhythmically.
he slows down when your breathing picks up, groaning at the desperate bucks of your hips.
“fuck, wooyoung, i was close,” you grumble, giving up on scooting closer to his mouth when his arm pushes you down.
he bites the plush skin of your thigh gently, meeting your gaze with a defiant glint, “i know, but it’ll feel better if i build it up.”
you shake your head in annoyance, not caring whether he’s right or not, “i don’t care. i wanna come.”
“you want to? or you need to?” he questions, slowly inching closer, until he’s close enough that you can feel his breath fan over you.
you know what he’s fishing for, the answer he’s pulled from you before. it means something completely different now, but you say it anyway. “i need you, wooyoung, please.”
“that’s it,” he praises, leaning back down to give you exactly what he knows you need. the pressure of two fingers curling right on that spot that makes your breathing tremble, his tongue brushing repetitive motions on your clit. “there’s my baby. so good for me.”
heat climbs up your back much quicker this time around, your jaw slack as you suck in quick breaths and exhale the moans you can’t suppress. your legs nearly close around his head, but he doesn’t stop, instead opting to hold his tongue out for you to use.
your hand rushes down to rest on the back of his head, pushing him impossibly closer, and he moans openly into you. the vibrations tip you over the edge as you orgasm with a force you hadn’t known before him. hot, white pleasure shoots through all of your nerves. your legs kick up, and your back arches all the way off the bed.
wooyoung continues licking stripes over your cunt as you catch your breath, enjoying the melody of his name dropping from your mouth. it takes the better half of a minute for your body to fully relax, and he rubs a soothing hand on the flesh of your ass while he waits.
when you finally come down, you feel exhausted, body limp against the sheets beneath you.
“i got you,” he whispers, getting up to make his way to your restroom. the clean towels were still where you kept them months back, and he wets one with warm water before making his way back to you.
he cleans you up gently, cooing when he brushes over a particularly sensitive spot just to see you jolt.
you sit up when he’s done, watching closely as he tucks himself back into his boxer briefs, “are you staying?”
he looks up, “do you want me to?”
your shoulders rise and fall, “it’s up to you.”
he considers the offer for a moment. he feels your stare, the way your eyes trace over his features like you’re seeing him for the first time.
slowly, he nods, dimples deepening with purpose, “yeah, sure.”
the wooyoung you knew never stayed the night. not once. if he was drunk, he’d call a ride. he never cared how late it was. he drew a line at actually sleeping in the same bed.
so your heart soars at the change. you almost mention how easy it would be to just put a label on what was already a relationship. but you decide to talk about it in the morning, when your eyes aren’t shutting involuntarily.
now, he lies back on your pillow, holding you close as your head rests on his shoulder. and when he’s sure your breathing has evened out, he places a kiss on the crown of your head.
reaching over the bed, careful not to disturb you, he grabs your phone. it’s cracked, but the password is the same, the one he’d memorized by looking over your shoulder.
he opens your photo library, scrolling down to the hidden folder. it’s what he expected, all videos of you and him, save for a few screenshots of important passwords.
he contemplates deleting them himself. brushes the thought away. that was for you to deal with.
then, he opens the camera app, making sure to get your face in frame as he snaps a picture. the screen loads as it attempts to take a clear image in the dark. when it’s done, wooyoung checks it, and a satisfied smile carves into his features.
“cute,” he whispers to himself, catching himself staring at it for a beat too long.
from the start, it was clear how this would end. or more so, how he was going to end things. on his own accord, with his pride in tact.
yet the talk about stability and being tied down still linger in his head as he glances at your closed eyes.
but wooyoung doesn't like doing things he doesn’t need to do, and a relationship is at the top of his list of things he doesn't need. he hardly even wants one as is.
it doesn’t matter how pretty you look knocked out on his chest, breath warming his skin.
you have options anyway.
wooyoung can only choose himself.
with a quick tap of his fingers, he’s opening your messages. he scrolls a bit before his eyes land on the contact he wants. seonghwa.
it only takes four clicks to send the picture he took. he doesn’t follow up with any text, sure that it speaks for itself.
and just as easily as he walked through your door that night, wooyoung slips out.
A/n: yall sopro has been a menace to society so were these concept photos so enjoy!
Synopis: Yunho has ruled by accepting the sopro for himself. now the sopro yunho has you captive what would he do to show everyone that your his!
warnings: sopro!yunho, passing out, induce drug use, bruises, manhandling, hes very fucked up, hardcore smut, mind control,voyeurism,oral sex, no protection,pet names *yall safe sex SAFE!*
WC: 1.5k
A penthouse suite that was in the middle of seoul. Yunho's throne leather chair big and chocolate just like his dark demon orbs watching the city lights flicker far below, a kingdom already sprawled at his feet. a piece to his never endling puzzle of despair laid a fragile bird in a gilded cage he’d built just for her.
On the black marble table before him sat two crystal ornate vial containing a liquid that shimmered of twilight than a syringe that had her engravement of "babygirl "y/n".
“Come here, Y/n.” a command of the deep chello laced with velvet, leaving no room for hesitation. He didn’t turn from the window, his reflection a stark silhouette of controlled menace in the glass. “Don’t be shy. I’ve Have a Gift for you. A nectar fit for a queen… or a queen-in-molding.” His lips curved into a slow, possessive smile. “It will help you see things… more clearly.”
y/n appeared from the doorway, a clothing of a dress that he picked out felt out of place in the opulent darkness. Her wide innocent eyes went side to side of his lair he called a home, Then darted from the terrifying man to the strange, beautiful vial and sterile synringe “I… I don’t understand, Yunho. What is it?” a whisper like a leaves in fall.
a bare foot hesitant stepped,drawn by his will even as her instincts screamed to flee.
The vial of the blackened liquid seemed to pulse with a dormnant, hypnotic energy all its own.
y/n closed the distance, Yunho's slender fingers on the potion and syringe as the needle and bottle connected, His eyes, dark and fathomless, pinned her in place. “Understanding is overrated, little one. Feeling… that’s what matters.” he released all the clear liquid from the syringe into the vial and tilting it so the strange liquid swirled.“This will make you feel more alive than you’ve ever dreamed. It will make you feel… mine.”
The syringe escaped from the bottle and he held it infront of his face and yours starring at the alluring liquid, then the heartshappes you pocessed when it stirred a sweet vanilla drifted into the space.
"come."
"Taste your new reality.”
A breathe of inhale hitched, a scent of the vanillia danced on her nose, a alurring exhale after deeply wrong at the same time. another step closing the gap. 'yours?' the word foreign on her tongue a defiance ignited in her chest her own will crumbling with the vial still in his hands"i…i belong to myself you don't own me…He closed the final distance himself, his shadow engulfing her trembling form.
A chuckled erupted in him a sound of pure undisputed power. "such a adorable, naive lie. his veiny fingers caputures the cup of her chin, his warmth a gentle caress, a master cuddling his fragile caramel doll.
“You’ve always been mine, y/n. You just needed the proper… awakening.
the cool rim of the vial at her parted lips, the syrupy metallic aroma overwhelming to her scenses,
“Drink. Let’s end this charming pretense of a will you never truly possessed.”
The first drop laced her tongue- a lucid of sweetness accompanied by a warmth numbness that seeped in her veins. A soft moan evade her frame , weakened by the substance coursing through her core to drown her thoughts. Her vision softened at the seems, the outline of Yunho's features blurring to a beautiful security. y/n's orbs closed melting in his molten palm
a inhale of stunned protest, a yearning aura englufed his steadying hand.“There we are,” his voice a hum as he felt the ecstasy of the change claimming her. every last drop past her mouth. Yunho's thumb caressed her soft line pocessive and approving “Feel it? The truth? It's casting out all those pointless little fears, all that stubborn noise. Now you can finally hear the only voice that matters. Mine.”
y/n's doe eyes fluttered, her world twisting on a warm axis. The thumb on her lower lip no longer a prudence but an anchor to her sea. the only joy in a dissolving galaxy.
"Yours…' a sigh of revelation. her own liberty felt like a fading echo, drowned by the hum of his aura that now vibrated inside her very bones. the ritual suceeded a firey state burning her senses until every nerve ached for Yunho's touch. her sweet pants, y/n's frame in yunho's trance, the pure light in her orbs replaced by a haze, depravation glow, fixed on him. the rapid thump of her heart filled the room, a throne room now accompanied between a sopro king and his babygirl devoted subject.
ah, good girl' he purred his pointer finger captured a big hazelnut curl and wrapped it around his a claiming pressure. lean in Yunho's breathe hot against her ear. “See how easy it is to let go? To let me in?” his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him, erasing any last pretense of distance “Now, tell me what you want. Say it. Let me hear that pretty little voice admit it.”
y/n's head inside his muscular shoulder, a gentle broken whimper filled the room as his hold anchored her to reality-a reality shapeshifted to his. I want…. she thought the words that were like a sweet lullaby followed but slurred “I want to please you. Only you.” Her hands, once hesitant, now intertwined to clutch at his shirt, not to push away, but to draw closer, to melt in his embrace Your voice…… its all i hear. it's everything.
Yunho’s hold on her was absolute, her body a pliant instrument against his, every shallow breath she took a testament to his Victory.
that's my perfect girl so obedient, he boomed the vibration of his voice sent shockwaves through her pressed against his poercelin chesisled chest. a lean back of a site enough to capture her hazed drooling eyes. “Such a sweet, honest thing you are now.” a didgit pushed past her chocolate lips and met with her drenched tounge
Kneel for me. Let me see your devotion. Let the city watch through the glass as you learn your true place,'
her orbs keeping contact at his brown and one blue-grey eye as she sunk down obeying his deep voice. Her dress pooling around her to the cool floor at his feet. a delicate touch of her hands resting gently on his polish boots. My place' y/n echoed her voice a hushed, fervent prayer. “Here. With you. For you.”
Yunho's face appeared with a satisfied smile spread across his lips as he looked down at her, a masterpiece of submission. one of his polished boots shift slightly under her pantied fingers, a subtle reminder of who held the ground and who knelt upon it.tracing the line of her jaw, tilting her face up further toward the towering view of his dominance. “Look at you. Perfectly mine. Now, tell me again… who does your heart long for little one….
y/n's orbs glassy and darkend with the substance influence draining her frame.clung to his features as if he were the only source of heaven.You she breathed, her voice trembling not with fear but with fervent need. “I serve you, Yunho. Only you.” Her forefinger tightened slightly on his shoes, a habor to his power Your will… is all I am.
In the heavy quiet, her rapid heartbeat seemed to sync with the pulse of the city, both now belonging to him.
Such an obedient creature,” Yunho voice decorated with dark satisfaction. his forefinger guided from her jaw slowly down the column of her throat and goosebumps in her wake at the possessive caress
promised both pleasure and punishment. “Now, show me how grateful you are for this gift. Show me how well my little puppet can move when I pull her strings.”
a shakey breath on her icy lips, y/n pushed herself up from her knees her movements fluid driven by the need to obey. leaning into his musclar embodiment. her blood boiling of the substance in her and offered her lips with a delicate pout starring at him. “Yes, Master anything,” she promised, the title falling from her tongue like a sacred vow her hazelnut orbs shimmer with admiriation.
The city lights blurred into a golden haze as his breath fanned over her mouth minty and cold then her lips crashed against his with a hunger that he created inside her, a kiss that was less an act of passion and more a seal of ownership—deep, commanding, and utterly consuming.
her fingers over his bare chest like a mountain solid and she titled her head to the side coaxing prying there lips open deepen, he pulled back broke the kiss slowly, his teeth grazing her lower lip in a hint of promised cruelty.
the the last vestiges of the night watched through the glass, bearing witness to a soul perfectly remade. yunho wanted everyone to know what he does to you that is his power.
the cool night air from the panoramic window did nothing to chill the feverish heat strengthen between them, a heat born of absolute power and absolute surrender.
Yunho starred in awe inbetween your fragile eyes welled with a tear at the brim “Perfect,” he growled, a palm trailing from her curvy hips to the delicate mesh of her dress.With a deliberate, finger flicked he bared one shoulder then the other, his gaze feasting on the exposed skin.“Such a beautiful instrument, made to perform only my tune. carressed his warm hand over her breast that a nipple manifested to him.
“Now, show me more. Let them see ithere new queen in her true, naked devotion.”
y/n's dress slipped down her body a breathless gasp as it pooled at her feet like a discarded petal. bareness was on display before him utterly exposed yet feeling more clothed than ever in the weight of his gaze. Her movements became more deliberate, more sinuous, her hands sliding over her own skin as if presenting herself as an offering. “I am yours,” she breathed, the words a mantra. “Every part. Every breath.”
The air crackled with unleashed power, the silence broken only by her soft breaths. Yunho's eyes filled with demon carress of his babygirl as she stripped away any last illusion of modesty.closing the distance between them. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her waist, leaving faint marks.
Y/n frame pressed against the rain stained glass as Yunho's palms captured her curved thighs and lifted her frame sliding up the glass her reflection a masterpiece of surrender against the glittering abyss of the city
pinning her in place before the kingdom he owned y/n's thighs spread open and vunlerable. y/n's head fell back against the window yun's inhaled her scent deeply then his face aganist her bud. yunho's drenched tongue delving into one of her folds tracing a debasting circle of slowness. He groaned on her fold. the vibratoin traveling through her body as a gasp seeped out.
'come on y/n let me hear you let them hear you princess" Yunho boomed as the wet sensation was overwhelming as his tongue dived deeper inside her hole she trembled violently herr hips finding friction involuntarily against his warm mouth. The room air thick with the his moist licking and her ragged breathing.
yunho barked pulling a desperate moan from her heartshappes. he withdrew one palm from her thigh slamming it down on her caramel skin and she jolted stilling her movements a scream "Yunho' a stung of his antic "i said watch" he threanted He dove back in, yunho's tongue wiggled roughly on her clit then his mouth wrapped around all of her insides and then he suckled wiggling his wicked instrument inside her.
“Let every soul in my kingdom hear the sound of your devotion breaking. Let them know their queen is a well-trained pet, coming apart on my command.
A raw, shattered cry was torn from her throat, echoing in the lofty penthouse. Her body bowed against the glass,as his mouth suctioned the last thread of her conrtol that was blinded by ecstatic submisson submission. The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white as her vision swam, her world condensing to the relentless pressure of his mouth and the humiliating, glorious knowledge that thousands of unseen eyes were upon her.
Y/n's orbs fluttered the kisses of his tongue made her eyes flew open wide and unseen the strength of his grip holding her down as the wave of her erotic pleasure crashed over her obliterating her innocence.the predatory look in his eyes as her mouth parted with a “Yunho!” she sobbed, watching her come undone y/n's frame fell limp to the side while the tension in her belly released her squirts of her liquid.Yunho mouth lapped gently never missing a single drop of her nectar. Yunho finally pulled back pressing a soft kiss with his tongue peeking through against her senstive inner thigh.
He captured her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue a intimate seal of ownership. “Beautiful,” he breathed against her lips, his voice dark with satisfaction. “Every window, every shadow, every soul out there… they all saw you break. They all know now who you truly are.” He traced a thumb over her swollen lips, his eyes burning with possessive fire. “Mine.”
in the wake of her shattering climax he penthouse was silent save for their mingled breaths. Bekah hung limp in his arms, her body still trembling with residual waves of pleasure, her skin slick against the cool glass where she’d been pressed. yunho held up your naked flesh effortlessly, one arm wrapped around your waist as his other palm titling your chin up at his glassy gaze.
“Look at yourself,” he commanded, his voice a low, satisfied purr. My beautiful, broken doll.” He nipped at her earlobe, a sharp, possessive punctuation. “The substance is singing in your veins, isn’t it? Telling you this is all you’ll ever need. That my voice is the only truth.”
y/n scanning at yunho's cupids bow and her eyes half lidded It’s… it’s the only truth,” she slurred, the words thick with the drug’s influence and her own shattered will. “I saw them… all the lights… watching me belong to you. It felt… right.” She turned her head, nuzzling weakly into his neck. “Thank you, Master… for making me yours.”
Yunho softly placed her back against the window, the cowering crowd of open mouthed and gasps of the city caught glimpes of Yunho's babygirl about to be at a ruin. facing forward to his board chest yunho fingers yanked her thighs apart and a gasp fell upon her as her head fell in his shoulders lifting her legs around his waist.
a punishing angle of her breasts clinging to his chesiled poercelin chest. the tip of his length notched against her drecnhed entrance, ineorable pressure that tore her inch by agonizing inch .
yunho slipped himself into her with one brutal,upward thrust, his veiny hands slammed on the window from the impact a gruttal growl arose in his body. yunho split her open watching the pain and twisted ecstay flicker across her painted tear face, the chill of the glass and the stickness of there bodies as she bounced up and down the rained window.
the crowd below saw the cries of y/n fogged the glass as yunho's one deep claiming roll of his hips he seaed himself fully as y/n wrapped her arms on his both sides of his back and her head in his board shoulder smothering her moans from him
yunho had his full darkned eyes on the stained window and then
A dark, triumphant smile curved his lips as he drove into her, his own release a savage peak of conquest. As he finally stilled, buried deep within his conquered prize, a distant, unmistakable sound of screeching metal and shattering glass tore through the night—a car crash far below, a violent punctuation to the violence he had just wrought. He chuckled, a low, evil sound against her silent ear. “Even the city falling apart cause of how i have you ruined and bound to me babygirl,” he whispered,
her head snapped back agaianst the glass the impact of his veiny flesh casue a wail ripping from her throat of "everyon sees oh god they see you inside me' her As his pace became ferocious, she screamed "yunho please" her arms bringing her closer to his body and she tried to brace her self but a whine came out as yunho placed his hand on her throat as her body laced with her high with a violent rippling clench around him,he drove right into her one final brutal slam inside her as his own released filled her with scolding robes of his dense seed. he stayed burried inside her twistching and assualting her orgasms as her eyes rolled to the back of her head feedling his white substance meet with the drug she felt lightheaded. her vision shattered into a dark void with black dots decrated her ears filled with a piercing siren and then everything went mercifully black y/n went limp from his assault on her a dwad weight of her head laid in his shoulder unconscious sent for her
the last thing she heard was "Pathetic," he murmured, the word dripping with cruel affection. e withdrew from her slowly, deliberately, savoring every inch of his conquest. His breathing was measured, controlled—no exertion, only the satisfaction of a predator who had thoroughly devoured his prey. He looked down at her unconscious form, sprawled and broken against the glass, her skin flushed and marked with the evidence of his possession.
He crouched beside her, his hand closing around her throat—not squeezing, just holding, feeling the faint flutter of her pulse against his palm like a captive bird's heartbeat. "You couldn't even stay awake for your own ruin." His thumb traced the bruises blooming on her skin, each one a signature. "No matter. When you wake, you'll crawl back to me anyway. The substance has seen to that. There's nothing left of you that isn't mine."
He released her throat and stood, casting one final glance at the chaos unfolding in the streets below—flashing emergency lights, twisted metal, the beautiful disorder his violence had birthed into the world. His smile was pure, cold malice. "Rest well, my empty little doll.
tags: switchy san, ab riding / outercourse, no penetration!!, praise kink, bodily fluids
posting this old draft as an apology for deleting the wooyoung fic _(:3 」∠)_
it’s a rainy day, the sound of it pattering against the window filling the quiet room. san’s already on his back as you crawl over him, shirt gone and sweats shoved down his thighs, cock resting thick and heavy against his stomach.
his chest rises and falls quickly, skin warm under your palms as you settle on his waist, kissing him slowly as you trace the lines of his abs.
“mmh, baby.. you feel so good,” he murmurs against your mouth, breath catching when you shift higher to let your bare cunt rest against the firm plane of his stomach. "fuck, you're so wet.. can feel how warm you are.. gonna make such a mess, aren't you?"
you start rocking your hips in gentle motions, dragging your slick folds over the smooth skin of his stomach. san's abs tighten under you the second you press down, every ridge sharpening as he lets out a shaky groan, head tipping back into the pillow.
"shit.. that's it. grind on me just like that. you feel so perfect on me," he mumbles, hands settling on your hips and stroking soft circles into your skin.
the slick sounds of you gliding across him fills the room, your wetness spreading on his skin and making his abs shiny. "god, listen to that.. you're soaking me already. keep going baby, use me," san mutters, breathing getting heavier.
you lean forward and brace your hands on his chest, letting your clit catch on the lines of his muscle. the friction builds heat in your belly, your eyes fluttering shut as san watches you.
his cock twitches against his stomach, the head flushed and leaking, brushing near your folds every time you grind back and forth, but never slipping inside.
"getting me all messy, shit.. my cock's throbbing just from feeling you, don't stop- please-" san groans loudly, feeling the wetness dragging over him.
your hands slide to his shoulders as you move in longer strokes, dragging your cunt from the top of his abs and down to his hips. "fuck yes.. you're dripping all over me, baby.. gonna make me cum just watching you," san moans, fingers digging into your hips.
he flexes his abs deliberately, making the ridges of muscle harder, adding enough friction to pull a whimper from your throat. "you like when i do that? make a mess, baby.. wanna feel you cum all over my stomach," san teases, voice low as his eyes darken.
you rock faster, thighs starting to burn as you chase your orgasm. "that's my girl.. so pretty grinding on me. fuck, i'm so hard it hurts," he murmurs roughly, thumbs rubbing circles in the skin of your hips.
his stomach glistens with your slick mixed with his pre-cum, the sounds loud enough to echo in the room, making you blush. san's hands roam, one hand cupping your breast and playing with your nipple while the other one squeezes your ass, guiding your hips.
"you're getting close, aren't you baby? wanna feel you cum right on my abs. please, baby," san mumbles, guiding your hips faster.
your clit pulses with every glide, san's hands gripping you tighter. "please cum on me, baby.. wanna feel it, fuck-" san whimpers as you grind faster, hands gripping his shoulders painfully tight.
you cum hard, body shaking as you grind through every wave. san follows right after, a whimper falling from his lips as he cums untouched, thick ropes of cum spilling over his abs and mixing with your mess.
you collapse onto his chest, breathing hard as he wraps his arms around you, pressing lazy kisses into your shoulder. "give me a few minutes, then we have to do that again.. you made me cum so hard."
a/n: yunho has been messing me up lately… i wrote this pretty quickly. I’m not great at proofreading and editing so i hope you guys enjoy… i am NOT ready but soooooo ready for the comeback 😭 check out my MASTERLIST while you’re here. :)
Synopsis: Yunho has a bad day at work and just needs to release some steam.
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI rough sex, head pushing, yunho is kind of mean and demanding, mentions of spit, cum, etc., everything is consensual (always always), um feel free to let me know if i missed anything big.
You hear him shuffle in later than usual, an irritated groan escaping his throat as he kicks off his shoes at the door. You knew he’d had a rough day at the office, easily pieced together from the endless string of texts you received to your phone during the day. You quickly pushed yourself up from the couch to greet him, and found a tired eyed Yunho frowning, as he moved into the apartment. His hair was clearly run through by his long fingers far too many times. His tie was already loosened and hanging around his neck. It was a contrast of the man that left you that morning, all clean cut and polished as he always was. “Hi…” You say, softly. Your hands smooth over the white button up that was already unbuttoned just a few notches, up his chest and over his shoulders as he leans in to kiss you. His arms wrap around you and tighten as he hums into your mouth.
“Hi.” He breathes, pulling away but his lips stay ghosting over yours.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask, and you watch as his tongue digs into his cheek.
“No.” He shakes his head, “I just need you right now.”
His lips already press into yours before you can respond, and you feel yourself being pushed back just a little further into the apartment. You don’t make it far, when your back is pressed up against a wall, his lips not missing a beat in working against yours. His tongue dips into your mouth and pulls a small sound from your throat as he presses against you. You can feel his frustration, like a wave of heat as he pins you in place. Kissing you harder, hands beginning to grab and hold tighter as you whimper into his mouth. “On your knees.” He breathes, a demand you obey without protest, his hand on the top of your head pressing you down until your knees find the floor. He uses only one hand to loosen the belt holding up his pants, and your hands work to help get his pants down. Your eyes finding him looking down at you through his glasses. You don’t wait for further instruction to free the bulging erection beneath black cotton fabric. “Good…” He breathes, “Good girl.” He’s big, heavy. It makes your mouth water, and you wrap a hand around his length looking up to find his needy eyes. You kiss up his shaft taking your time, your tongue dipping to kitten lip just the tip as he whimpers. “Not now…” He growls, pushing you toward him. “Open. Wide.”
You do as you're told, his anger starting to seep into him as he glides himself into your mouth. You gag around him when he pushes back into your throat but you focus on your breathing and let him use your throat. When your eyes manage to find him he’s watching as he pulls back just enough to give you reprieve, but is already slowly rolling his hips back into you. You moan around him, one of his hands steadies himself, his palm flat against the wall above you, the other is firmly anchored in your hair helping to guide himself into you. “That’s it…” He groans, “Let me just…” His cock finds the back of your throat, and you swallow around him for good measure. Your throat is contracting, as your mouth fills with saliva “fuuuuuck.” His head falls back as he leaves it there for a few seconds longer slowly pulling back out this time letting you breathe fully. You’re gasping, spit dripping down your chin, eyes watering as you get some air but you open your mouth again, eyes up, head back, tongue out. It makes him moan to see you so willing, and he sinks his cock back in easier now. You moan around him and suck your cheeks in as he begins to slowly rock his hips into you, his grip on your hair tightening as he fucks your mouth. “That’s… so good…” he moans, his words only making you drip between your thighs. “Keep your eyes on me…” he breathes, and you do. Even through tears it’s hard to look away. He looks like a god above you, his bottom lip being pulled in by his teeth, his big eyes even darker than before, filled with uncontrollable lust and hunger. He pulls off his glasses and tosses them to the side before running his fingers through his hair and pulling just enough while he drives his cock into your throat. When he pulls out again your hands reach for him, both wrapping around his soaked cock to stroke him while you catch your breath. He moans as your tongue swirls around his tip, sloppy and wet as your hands easily pump his cock. You bat your lashes, you bite your lip, you show him how eager you are when your jaw opens wide, your tongue out flat and ready to take him again. It drives him crazy, and he doesn’t hold back from fucking your throat harder. His moans turned into grunting, growling, just feral sounds from deep in his chest. You don’t sound much off from that, though muffled you’re practically gargling him with moans to send vibrations around his length. You know he’s close, you feel him twitch and his once rhythmic pace sputters to slow but deep thrusts of his hips. His head pushes into the hand that’s flat against the wall above you, as he moans loudly his eyes finding yours as his cum starts to pour out of him. He moves your head back, just enough to watch you swallow every last drop he gives. Even as he trembles and whimpers he rocks his hips to fully empty himself down your throat. You suck off him when he lets you go, but he doesn’t give you a minute to really breathe as he’s pulling you up. “You’ve been so good I think you deserve a treat.” He growls, before his lips sloppily find yours.
His tongue is even more present in your mouth than before, as he pulls you toward your couch. Any frustration you thought he’d released seems distant now. He pushes you down, hands already pulling at your pants and getting them off you with haste. You barely get your bearings on the couch. His breathing is ragged as he pulls your hips up to him, pressing your back forward and your head down against the couch. His hand smoothing over your ass spreading you open, a moan falling from his lips as he stroked himself and used the tip to tease your entrance. You whimper anticipating what was next, looking back at him wiggling your hips just to tease. Yunho usually took his time with you, most of the time he’d use his fingers to prep you and he loved using his mouth to make you unravel beneath him. Tonight, he was just needy. His frustration came out as passion and need, and you were more than happy to help. “Look at you. Already wet.” He murmured, “So eager to please me.” A firm hand slaps your ass and you jolt forward with a yelp, “No no no, you don’t get to run from me.” He growls, pulling you back toward him. Your bottom lip getting caught in your teeth, a hand smooths over your red skin as you arch your back and he doesn’t waste more time before sinking into you. “Relax, for me.” He groans, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. It’s a tight fit, but one you’ve dealt with before. You steady your breathing, you whimper as he sinks into you a bit more. You turn your head to look at him again, his face blushed slightly as he focused on the spot where you and he connected. You catch him pushing spit to his lips, letting it slowly cascade down to his cock. You shudder when he thrusts into you, and moan into the couch cushion beneath you when he finally bottoms out. “There we go.” He breathes his hands smoothing over your ass, down your back still covered by your shirt. He’s still in his too. It doesn’t seem to bother him as he begins to rock into you, one hand finding your hair at the back of your head, grabbing a handful as you whimper beneath him. He pulls your head back, up out of the couch as he gets into a steady rhythm of thrusting into you.
Your fingers curl into the cushion beneath you as he growls and groans, mumbling curses angrily slamming his cock deep into your pussy at a steady pace. It’s just enough to make you really feel every inch of him, and you clench around him as he holds your head up by your hair. His other hand is holding your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he rocks you back on his cock. You don’t have to do much, just let him use you how he needs and it just makes your pussy more wet for him. You become mailable for him, and just try to keep yourself upright as your own pleasure starts to build in your tummy. “Yu…” you moan out his name, “Use me… fuuuuck.” You moan as he slams into harder than before, it feels deeper too, he stops moving, just letting him fill you.
“Stop fucking talking.” He growls, “Just let me—“ he moans as you clench around him, laughing darkly as he starts to move again. He moves his angle without pulling from you, and then he’s back with the same pace as before, steady, firmly. The sound of his skin snapping into yours, your wet pussy, his growling and moaning floods your ears, and your body is lit on fire as he starts to pick up the pace. “You love being used like this. My own personal toy.” He growls, you don’t dare speak again, instead your voice offers a shaky moan that sounds more like a wail, muffled slightly by the couch beneath you. He chuckles at that, his grip in your hair tightening before he presses your head down into the couch. He doesn’t let up, as your brain short circuits, your open mouth producing a pool of drool as he pounds into you. “Your brain shut off yet?” He groans, and you don’t dare respond, again, you manage a sound that resembles a moan.
Before you can process it he’s pulling out of you, and letting go of your hair. You don’t need to think before he’s flipping you over onto your back, pushing your knees up and to the side, sinking right back into you with a raspy groan. He starts to move, rolling his hips into you and watching you take him. Your eyes clenching shut as he manages to fuck into you deeper than before. Your body burns, a sweet and intense pleasure growing as he bites his bottom lip and pushes himself forward. His entire body weight against you as he presses his forehead to yours. His hands let go of your thighs but you keep them up with your own hands. Your nails digging into your thighs as one of his hands finds your cheeks, squeezing tightly as his breathing hitches in your face. “Look at me while I’m fucking you.” He demands and your eyes flash open, your brain doing the work for you. Your eyes lock into his big blown pupils. He growls in approval, gritting his teeth as he continues slamming himself into you. He’s so deep you can feel him in your chest, and your moan comes out through squished cheeks like you’re weeping. His thumb loosens before dipping into your mouth, his eyes on you as he watches you suck on his thumb, pressing into your tongue. Your eyes welled up with tears, as he maneuvered his hips again, finding that spot inside of you with precision. You moan around his finger, trying to keep your eyes locked into his. He slowly pulls his thumb from your mouth as his hips shudder, “I’m going to fill you with my cum, and you’re going to thank me for it.” He hums his hand moving down to your throat, fingers settling around your neck as he pushes himself up just enough to hover above you. He doesn’t squeeze but he presses slightly as he lets out a higher than before whimper fall from his lips. Then you feel it, his cock twitching, he buries himself deep in you as he lets go. He fills you up, as he rocks his hips now slowly in you. His eyes are looking between you, watching as his cock slowly slides halfway out, covered in your arousal and his cum before he presses deep into you again. His bottom lip quivers as you clench around him.
Your legs shake as he stays there for a moment, his eyes rolling back as his head falls back. He breathes heavily, before he swallows and looks back at you. “Th- Thank you.” you whimper, close but not quite there. He smiles, a dark chuckle leaving his lips as he loosens his grip around your throat, his hand running down the front of your shirt.
“Good girl.” He hums, “You wanna cum?” He asks, and you feel him pull out then. You whine as you feel yourself clenching around nothing, desperate and needy as he pulls you up. “I’m tired, if you want to
cum you’ll make yourself cum.” He wasn’t like this usually, he loved making you cum. Tonight he was on a different level, and it only made you want him more. He sits back on the couch pulling you toward him, cock hard again as he stroked it beneath you. “Cmon then, ride me.” He rasps. You crawl onto him, needy and determined. You can feel yourself soaking, his cum and your arousal would need to be deep cleaned later, but you find his cock with your hands. He doesn’t help; he sits back, chest still rising and falling as you slowly sink down onto him. He bites his bottom lip as you already twitch around him. Your hands find his clothed shoulders to steady yourself as you readjust to the new angle. You feel the fire already half lit in your tummy when you take the time to feel him. How full he made you, his pretty mouth falling open as you slowly moved up and down on him. Your fingers dig into the fabric still covering him as you begin to bounce, now chasing your own high. One of his hands finally reaches for you, his hand finding his favorite spot at the crown of your head another handful of hair. He firmly pulls your hair back, your head following along. “I said fucking ride me.” he growls and you moan in response beginning to roll your hips, moving faster.
You feel the pleasure building, your skin tingling as you move faster against him. Your thighs begin to burn but you push through that. Yunho watches as you move, his free hand moving down your chest and pushing your shirt up and above your breasts so he can see more of you as you work for your orgasm. “You puttin’ on a show for me now?!” He muses, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip, before pulling it back into his teeth. “Look how fucking messy you are.” You couldn’t look down, he wasn’t speaking to you, he was just admiring you. The pool of arousal and his cum around the base of his cock as you begin to shake. He lets out a hoarse moan, his mouth falling open as he watches you sink onto his cock and glide against him. You start to shake as he pulls you close to him, his lips pressing into your chest, teeth coming out to nip at your flushed skin. “Let me help you.” He groans, his hands finding your hips, fingers digging back into your skin as he starts to move your body against him. Your hips rolling with the help from him, and then he’s lifting you just partially off him before slamming you back down on his cock. He repeats this a few times until you’re starting to cry, so close you can taste it. One of his hands finds you clit, already wet from your juices, his thumb easily rolls against it as you start to roll against his cock more. You clench around him, your hips jerking as you start to come undone. Whatever you’re saying, it’s not real words. Just a string of curses and whimpers as you gasp and melt into his hold on you. He keeps his thumb against your clit as you try to lift from him, his other hand holding you in place as his hips drive up and into you. It’s overstimulating but you feel his cock twitch again, another orgasm of his own pouring out of him as you tremble. The warmth sends you over the edge as your eyes clench shut and you sob as he keeps driving his cum into you.
He loosens his hold as you tremble and whimper his arms bringing you closer to him. He stays inside you, and holds you close to his chest as you both try and catch your breath. His touch is softer, his hands move over your hair. Though you still shake with tremors you warm into him. The two of you lay together for a while in silence just breathing and taking the time to sort through your thoughts.
“Feeling better?” You ask after some time. He chuckles and nods.
“I am feeling better now that I’m home with you.” He hums, “Are you alright? Are you feeling… satisfied? Was I horrible?” He asks and you giggle, shaking your head.
“That was fun.” You smirk, “I’m good.”
“Good.” He smiles, his soft demeanor back as he runs his hand down your cheek thumb warming against your skin.
“Do you want to talk about work?” You ask, your hand smoothing over his wrinkled shirt and tie still hanging loose around his neck.
He pouts, shaking his head, “Not now… let’s clean up and eat dinner.”
“Okay, baby.” You smirk, kissing his lips, before he’s lifting you off him and ushering you to the shower.
⛩️Summary: during your nightly sweep of the rooms in the castle you for your pack, a loud noise allows you to experience
⛩️Pairing: Alpha! Jeong Yunho x Beta! Reader (f)
⛩️Rated: 18+, Minors/ageless blogs do not interact (you will be blocked)
⛩️Genre: smut
⛩️Au: abo, shifter, supernatural, historical, nobility
⛩️Trope: forbidden love, noble/servant
⛩️Warnings: rut, partial shifting, shredding a bed, petname (little one), yunhos a soft dom, sex with no protection, knotting, size kink, clit play, breast play, position changes, scent references, Wolf dominance play, cervix kisses, rough sex, soft sex, praise kink, begging, dom aftercare, hand kink, belly swell from being filled with cum (?)
⛩️Word count: 2,578
⛩️Author's Note: was reading some abo and had the itch to write some myself. I don't control this muse okay, they control me
⛩️Divider by @cursed-carmine
You are doing your evening rounds of cleaning when you hear a crash coming from one of the major suites. Knocking politely, you open the door to make sure everything is alright in the room you hear the abrupt noise from.
Immediately your olfactory senses are overloaded with a strong smell of dark chocolate and sweet blood orange. Your eyes widen as you realize you’ve just stumbled into an Alpha going into rut.
“My lord, my apologies, I will go send for an Omega for you.” You curtsy without raising your head.
There were few rules in this castle, in this pack you belonged to. As a Beta, you knew how to survive, and one of them was to never let an Alpha believe you’re challenging them, and that involved not meeting their gaze.
“Wa-wait…” Panting fills the air as you keep your eyes on the floor. Your name is whimpered and you can’t help but look up.
Lord Jeong, known as Yunho to his friends, Baron of the Ghost district, shreds his bed with his partially shifted claws.
“My lord,” you wait for him to further instruct you. Perhaps he’d prefer to go hunting to work through his rut. Not every Alpha wanted to fuck through it. Violence came easily to an Alpha.
“You clean my rooms, don’t you?” Yunho says in a strained voice. He wobbles to his feet. He’s sweating profusely.
“My lord, I do my best to keep my smell off of everything, please allow me to leave you to this.” You begin to tremble. Yunho had a quiet rage that you feared over the louder version of Lord Park.
“You mistake my intent,” Yunho clarifies. “I recognize your smell.”
You rub your lips together. “I do use the soap that is given to all Betas. My apologies, I will do better.”
Yunho shakes his head, rubbing his face and laughing softly. “It’s a good smell, little one.”
Your spine becomes ramrod straight. “My lord, this is improper. You know the rules.”
“I do,” Yunho’s raspy voice caresses places inside of you that no sound should be able to touch. “I also know that my word is law in my domain. And this room is my domain upon the commencement of a rut.”
“Of course, my lord, but--”
Yunho’s hand descends on your shoulder. “Do I repulse you, Beta?”
You shake your head quickly. “No, my lord, of course not.”
“Yunho,” The Baron corrects you, wishing to disburse all of the civilities. This did not bode well.
“Yunho, if I may be frank--”
“--if your boldness is followed by a declination to my unspoken proposal, I do wish you would lie sweetly to my face, little one.”
A whine builds in the back of your throat. In fact, you tilt your head, begging for forgiveness. “Please, my lor--Yunho. I mean no disrespect.”
Yunho’s hand travels up your shoulder and thumbs the scent gland on your neck. You may be a Beta and not secret the same way an Omega or Alpha does, but you are still a wolf. “Then don’t disrespect me,” Yunho murmurs, his tone low and with an edge of rasp.
You lower your head further. “Yes, my lord.”
Yunho’s hand fully cups your neck and he uses his thumb to push your head up so that you’ll meet his eyes. His eyes are hooded and his lips plump. “That’s much better. Now drop the ‘my lord’ part and you’ll be perfect for me.”
Your lips part in surprise. “Yunho, an Omega is much better suited for your rut. Shouldn’t you enjoy--”
You squeak as Yunho’s hand squeezes your throat in warning. “My wolf says that you’re what it wants, Beta.” Yunho leans in to whisper against the shell of your ear. “Shall I seduce you some more.” Yunho’s thumb moves with the bob of your Adam’s Apple. He chuckles darkly at the motion.
“No, Yunho,” You whisper back.
You’re surrounded by the bitter smell of dark chocolate and the sweet, tartness of a blood orange. It’s intoxicating, it’s invigorating, it’s capable of making you wet between your legs with a single, swift, sniff. Your wolf wants to posture itself, nose down, ass up. Your submission is apparent in your body language. You almost melt against the Alpha.
Yunho’s nostrils flair. His pupils are blown. And his lips descend upon yours. He’s licking at the seam of your lips and then chasing your tongue with his own. The slow, wet kisses exit you in the way that chased smooches in the nooks of the castle never had. He moans deeply into your mouth.
Your back finds the door as Yunho searches for a surface to push you against. His body is tight and ready, the rut hitting him with waves of lust. You’re surprised you’re not already naked at his insistence.
His other free hand pulls at the ties of the front of your dress and soon your breasts are spilling from your loose top. His hand cups your breast just from underneath, avoiding your nipple. Your skin pebbles from the temperature difference of the cool castle air and Yunho’s overheated palm.
“I need more,” Yunho murmurs into your kisses.
“Of course, my lord.”
Yunho growls at the formal sentence. His eyes sharpen down on you. “Little one, are you trying to distance yourself from me? Because I will be so deep inside of you, you won’t know where I end and you begin.”
“Old habits die hard, m--Yunho, I’m sorry. Please, give me a chance to--”
Yunho’s hand begins to lift your skirts quickly. His claws are gone, but that doesn’t take away from his long, nimble fingers that have no trouble finding the patch of hair between your legs. He strokes the strip almost reverently before sliding down further.
“You’re wet. Good.” Yunho says.
You whine at the statement. You feel your face getting heated. This was embarrassing. You weren’t usually this eager. Your body wasn’t made to take an Alpha in a rut; you weren’t an Omega with built in slickness.
Yunho goes back to kissing you, feasting on your lips like your oxygen is what he needs specifically. In the meantime, he wets his finger with your cum and slowly rubs your clit between two pads of his fingers.
He smirks against your lips as your hips cant towards his touches. “Do you want this, little one?”
It’s now you who are panting against Yunho’s lips. You adjust your stance, allowing for better access for Yunho’s fingers. His chest rumbles under your hand, an inbetween of a purr and a growl. “I asked you a question? Or are you already scent-drunk?”
Your head swims and you lick your lips. Your hands make a fist against Yunho’s flowing shirt. “Yunho, I--”
Yunho knocks his head against yours. “You can do it, Beta.”
“It feels good,” You whine.
Yunho’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he bites down on his lip. “I don’t think I can hold it back any longer.”
“I… I can take it.”
Yunho’s reserve crumbles at your words. He hefts you over his shoulder and then tosses you like a bag of potatoes onto his goose-down bed. His body covers yours immediately, pausing only a moment to remove his shirt over his head. Then he’s pressing down against you once again. The next is his pants, the buttons popping off at his quick insistentness and shoved down to his thighs.
You spread your legs, pulling your skirts up for Yunho but it seems like he does not want to take you face to face. He’s got a hand on your hip and flips you to your front. With your nose against his sheets, you realize you’re in the position your wolf had endeavored for.
Yunho’s hands tremble over the globes of your ass. “You smell so good, little one.”
You’d have liked to respond, eager to know what exactly you smell like for him, but the words are stolen from your throat as you feel Yunho’s cock rubbing against your wet folds. You push backwards instinctively and Yunho groans.
His voice wobbles as he swallows somewhat dryly. “I need to be in your tight heat. I need it so badly. The tight coil in my stomach demands it, Beta.”
You’re not sure if Yunho is asking or demanding, but you’re certain he is desperate for it. You reach between your legs and spread your outer lips invitingly. “It’s okay, my lord. I can do it.”
Yunho’s cockhead doesn’t flirt with your hole. He pushes into you without further adieu and you both moan loudly in unison. He’s thick and nothing could have prepared you for the stretch. Yunho does his best to allow shallow thrusts, working into you, but the grip on your hips tells you that he’s not going to be able to hold that for very long.
“Little one,” Yunho moans with a deep tone. “You’re squeezing me.”
“Nay, my lord, you’re the one that’s pushing against every inch of my walls,” You decline with a tight throat.
You whine as he pushes in even deeper, this time slipping further than just a little bit in one quick, fluid motion. He’s not at the end of you yet but with one long pull out, suddenly he’s kissing your cervix.
“M-my lord,” You cry out, hands searching for purchase.
Heat encompasses your back as Yunho covers you with his long body. His hands intertwine with your hands, squeezing you back.
“I’m here, little one, I’m here.” At this angle, Yunho isn’t able to pull back as much as he was before. His subtle thrusts, whoever, begin to rub against a part of you that makes you whine.
“Are you still holding back?” You whisper.
“You are so tiny beneath me,” Yunho purrs this time.
You whimper at the thought of Yunho enjoying how much smaller you are to him. “Still. I am confident I can take you. If you hold back too much with the rut, you know it will come back ten times harder. Please, my lord--”
“Beta, are you determined to push my buttons?” Yunho says in a hushed tone. “Say my name.”
“Yunho, Yunho please,” You beg. “Fuck me.”
With a growl, Yunho’s heat leaves your back slick with sweat. His hands grip your hips in a bruised promise and then he begins to thrust into you at a tempo that steals your breath away. You become non-verbal, unable to focus on anything other than the cock that was pushing against your inner walls.
“Beta, Beta, you’re so good for me.” Yunho sounds a little drunk himself, although surely his version was drunk in his own rut. Instinct overtaking sound thought. “This tight little heat of yours is taking care of me so well. Your soft curves make me feel like I should protect you. You’re making my wolf want to sing into the night.”
“Yu-yu-yu!” You’re not even able to finish his name, his thrusts making your words choppily fall from your lips. You whine instead, the only noise being able to encapsulate just how good you feel in this moment.
“My knot--oh please be a good girl and take my knot,” Yunho begs. “Can you? Can you take my knot?”
Your breathing isn’t coming out in measured steps any longer. “I want--I can--my lord, are you going to knot me?”
There’s a part of your brain, the one that is so squeezed against the side of your skull, with only room for the feeling of Yunho’s cock fucking you so damn good. You know that an Alpha should not be knotting you. He’s fully capable of filling you up with his seed--not that you’re very fruitful but still--it was not a celebrated pup, one born from an Alpha and a Beta.
“It’s perfect for you, I promise. It’ll make you feel so good,” Yunho whines.
You feel the starting of his swelling knot at your entrance as Yunho somehow finds even more room inside of you. “Yu-Yunho, are you sure?”
“Please take my knot, little one. I wanna hear your breathy whine when it stretches you,” Yunho whispers almost reverently into the air, like knotting was sacred to him.
You can’t quite say no to that. You can refuse it, certainly, but your lower body tightens at the temptation. You’ve never felt a knot before but you’ve overheard an Omega or two gossiping about the ones they’ve taken with sweet sighs.
“Please,” You acquiesce and Yunho moans in response.
“It’ll be so good for you,” Yunho insists. “My knot will treat you so well.”
At that point, Yunho’s flipping you to your back. Being face to face with him is a whole other scenario. His hair is simply plastered to his head. His ears and cheeks and chest are red with his heat and pleasure. He won’t stop biting down on his plush lips. You didn’t even realize that the Alpha hadn't even removed himself from inside of you, slyly keeping you locked down on his cock as he switched positions.
“I want to see your face when you take it,” Yunho admits. “We’ll be locked together for hours.”
You nod almost imperceptively. “Okay.”
With Yunho’s large hands palm down on your thighs, he puts his all into helping you take his knot. It swells to a size that makes you moan again. Each measured thrust has it pushing against your walls, further and further. The play against that good spot inside of you has you wondering what exactly you’re in for. You take it inch by slow inch, until suddenly it pops inside of you.
You scream with pleasure, as the pressure of the knot against your spongey spot sends you over the moon. You come and come, and whine, and come some more. Your walls tease and tempt Yunho and with a loud, lusty groan, the Alpha spills himself inside of you. Even with the plug, the amount of cum is a lot. You both watch in confusion and wonder as your belly swells briefly, for the cum has nowhere to spill out.
The tip of Yunho’s fingers tentatively explore the bump. “You took me so well, little one. Look at how you swell with my seed.”
You squirm slightly. “It’s--”
Yunho’s panting above you, slowly coming down from his high. His rut isn’t over--one orgasm wasn’t going to satisfy it--but in between waves, his eyebrows furrow in concern.
“Yo’ure not hurt, are you?”
You send him a tired smile. “No, my lord.”
Yunho pushes his lips out. “Still?”
“Yunho,” You say softly. “When you wake up tomorrow, you shouldn’t feel guilty.”
“No?” Yunho wonders somewhat hesitantly.
“No,” You shake your head. “Will you sleep now?”
Yunho covers a yawn at your prompting. “I am a little worn around the edges.”
The large Alpha slouches against your body, covering you completely, as if filling you wasn’t enough. He smacks his lips tiredly and tucks his face into the crook of your neck. His lips briefly kiss your scent gland before murmuring something about you smelling like air-dried laundry on a sunny day.
You rub his back soothingly. It might be an hour or two before his knot would decrease but his cock would be ready for round two. Your body may not be built for handling a rut but you’d do your best. For Yunho’s sake. It made your stomach flutter at keeping Yunho pleased.
tags: dark fic, stalker!yunho, cnc/dub con, knife play, voyeurism??, overstim, power imbalance, creampie, degradation, fear play?, reader is now captive?
a week of work and im not completely happy with it >_< but psycho yunho is here!
you never thought yunho was anything other than safe. just the tall neighbor with a pretty smile that made the hallway feel warmer every time you passed by.
he carried your grocery bags up three flights of stairs when the elevator broke, brought you coffee whenever you worked late, smiles at you whenever you bump into each other.
tonight, the power in your apartment went out for the third time this month, forcing you to text him if you could come over because he told you he had a backup generator in a casual chat.
his reply came almost too fast, telling you to come over and to bring your laptop so you could work.
he opened the door, wearing just a black tee and gray sweatpants that slung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers slightly visible. his hair is messy, a few strands falling over his forehead and into his eyes.
“hey.. sorry about the outage again. building’s falling apart, huh?” he says softly, hand settling at the small of your back as he guides you inside.
you settle onto his couch, laptop open on your knees, the screen illuminating your face. yunho brings a glass of water and sits across from you, starting up small talk as you work.
eventually, your bladder tugs at you and you ask for the bathroom.
“down the hall,” he murmurs, voice soft, “first door on the right for my bathroom, but the guest room is the third door down if you want more space.. take your time, no rush,” he smiles, pointing toward the hall.
you walked down the hall, counting the doors in the dim light, skipping over the first door and kept going to the third, opening the one on the left accidentally, assuming it was the bathroom he meant.
the wood door creaked as you pushed it open, your eyes falls on four screens illuminating the small office. live feeds of your entire apartment: the couch in your living room, a view from the bookshelf in your bedroom, your kitchen counter where last night’s dishes still sat.
photos everywhere, printed on expensive photo paper and taped edge to edge on the walls. paparazzi-esque photos of you leaving work, on the subway, asleep in bed: all with dates and times in neat black ink.
there was a corkboard with your schedule pinned in it: your shifts at work highlighted in yellow, the times you went on walks in the morning, when you took out your trash.
a small shelf held things you thought you had lost months ago: your spare apartment key, a pair of earrings that vanished from your nightstand, and a black pair of panties you swore the dryer ate.
your stomach dropped hard, a cold wash spreading through your chest. you back up, the floorboards creaking under your feet, sounding like a gunshot in your ears.
suddenly you feel yunho’s hand close around your wrist, the grip firm enough to bruise, causing you to spin quickly.
he blocked the doorway completely, his shoulders relaxed and face calm like he’s been waiting for this moment for months, tension falling from his jaw the second your eyes meet his.
“i was wondering how long it would take,” he whispers, a small smile playing on his lips. you try to yank your arm free, but he just steps in the room with you, the door locking shut behind him.
“yunho- what the fuck is this? i was looking for the bathroom-”
he tilts his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “wrong door, honest mistake. but you’ve seen all of it, so there’s no point in pretending anymore,” he murmurs as he reaches past your shoulder, flipping a switch on the wall. the monitors became brighter, angles of your apartment in real time staring back at you.
“i’ve been keeping you safe. remember that guy from the bar who wouldn’t take no for an answer? he won’t bother you again. i made sure of that, personally,” he rants as he steps closer, the cold wall pressing against your spine.
“you’re sick, yunho. let me leave, right now!” you snap as he crowds your space.
his fingers brush your jaw gently, thumb tracing the line of bone before pressing in hard, rough enough to bruise in the shape of his fingerprints. “sick? i call it dedicated. months of watching and waiting to make sure no one else got too close.. and here you are, in my space, seeing everything i’ve built for us,” he whispers as his hand slides down to your throat, fingers resting against your pulse point, the veins jumping under his touch, “you’re not leaving. not tonight, not ever. you belong here now.”
you try to duck past him, but he just catches your shoulder and spins you against the desk, the edge digging into your hips. his body is solid and warm against yours, chest rising steadily as his hips trap you completely.
“don’t,” he says quietly, “you already know too much. running now would just make a mess, and we don’t want that, do we?”
his free hand opens the drawer beside you, the knife he pulls out glinting in the light of the monitors. he lifts it between you, turning it slowly so the light slides along the metal.
“been thinking about this moment for a long time,” he murmurs, eyes darkening. “how your eyes would widen like that, how your breath would catch right here,” his thumb presses against the side of your throat, feeling your pulse hammer under his fingers, “pretty. so fucking pretty when you’re scared.” you swallow hard as he hovers the blade near your collarbone, the cool metal raising goosebumps on your skin.
“take it off,” he says flatly, eyes locked on you, “every piece, or i’ll do it for you, and i won’t be careful.”
your fingers shake as you try to unbutton your shirt, so yunho hooks the tip of the knife under the first button of your shirt, the metal kissing your skin as he popped the button off.
the cool air hit your chest as he flicked every button off, tracing the knife against your bra, the cold material making your nipples tighten and peak against the thin fabric.
“look at you,” he says, voice dropping lower as his polite mask slips completely. “already shaking and i haven’t even touched you.. ready for someone to finally own you completely?” he questions as he slides the blade under the strap of your bra, the fabric snaps, letting the cups fall to expose you fully.
his hand shoves into the front of your pants, fingers pushing past the waistband to find you slick and hot. yunho laughs darkly, the vibrations traveling up the column of your neck. “of course you’re wet.. like all those nights i watched you touch yourself… moaning into your pillow while thinking about me,” he murmurs as he pushes two fingers inside you, crooking them hard.
you gasp hard, the knife at the base of your throat biting into your skin as the tip poked against your racing pulse. yunho works you open, thumb circling your clit roughly to build up the pressure quickly.
he holds you up with his body against the desk, hips pinning yours enough that you can feel the hard line of his cock pressing through his sweatpants. "that's it.. fuck my fingers like the desperate little slut you've always been for me.. been waiting months to feel this tight little cunt flutter around my fingers," yunho rambles, working you open with rough strokes.
you try to push at his chest, palms flat against his shirt, but yunho just laughs at you as he adds a third finger, stretching you to your limit. your hips jerk against his fingers despite yourself, tears pricking your eyes as you try to chase the friction.
he pulls his fingers free, leaving you clenching around nothing as he wipes them across your stomach, smearing your own wetness across your skin.
"on the desk, now. legs spread."
you don't move fast enough for him, causing yunho to grip your hips hard, sitting you on the edge of the desk, the wood biting into the back of your thighs. he shoves your legs apart, bringing the knife to your inner thighs and tracing gently.
you feel the edge kiss the seam of your pants, the fabric giving way with a soft rip, tearing a hole right in the middle. he peels the ruined material down with the blade, leaving everything dangling off one ankle, letting the cool air hit your exposed pussy.
yunho's cock is pulled out, hard and flushed, the tip of him leaking steadily. he strokes himself once before he lines up, the blunt head nudging your entrance before he pushes in all the way to the hilt.
you cry out, causing yunho to press the knife into the side of your neck as he begins moving, hips snapping against yours in a brutal rhythm. each thrust punches the air from your lungs, his cock dragging against the spot inside you that makes you see stars.
"mine," he growls against your ear, teeth grazing your lobe. "say it. tell me who this pussy belongs to."
you're too overwhelmed to answer as he continues to hit that spot that makes your vision blur and yunho slams in harder, the tip of the knife pressing into your neck enough to sting. "say it or i start carving my name right here on your pretty throat.. everyone will see who owns you," yunho snaps, dragging the knife over your pulse point.
"y-yours," you choke out, voice cracking.
"louder," he growls as he angles hips to abuse that sensitive spot inside you, "tell me who owns this tight little pussy. who's been watching it for months."
"yours, yunho. f-fuck- it's yours-!" you whimper, thighs shaking around his hips.
yunho fucks you like he hates you, every thrust punishing you for how long you made him wait for this. one hand grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises while the other keeps the knife steady at your throat, the tip scratching against your skin with each thrust.
you cum hard around him, clenching tight as your walls flutter and squeeze around his cock, a broken moan falling from your lips. tears slip down your cheeks as he pounds you through it, your nails digging into his shoulders, the fabric bunching under your fingers.
"again," he orders, a groan vibrating through his chest. "cum again while i'm still buried inside you. show me how much you need this even when you're scared shitless."
your body obeys him, the second orgasm ripping through you as your vision whites out completely, pussy spasming around his thick length. yunho keeps thrusting through it, hips stuttering as his pace turns erratic.
"that's my good girl. been mine since the first time i saw you," he mutters as he buries himself deep inside you. yunho cums hard, thick ropes filling you until it leaks around his cock, dripping down your thigh and onto the desk.
yunho stays buried inside, letting his cock twitch before he pulls out slowly, letting the cum spill out freely. he lowers the knife, letting it fall onto the desk as his kisses your forehead softly.
"you can clean yourself up later," yunho says calmly, a polite smile playing on his lips again. "you're staying here tonight. and tomorrow night. and every night after this. understood?"
you nod, tears pricking your eyes as your legs tremble. yunho brushes a strand of hair from your face gently, thumb wiping a tear from your cheek. "welcome home, baby."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ thinking about it - mafia boss!wooyoung and casual intimacy
mafia boss wooyoung who lets you put your hands all over him whenever you want, despite the value he puts into his intimidating appearance.
his fingers drum against the wood of the table, pale and covered in ink.
a few of his men were halfway through a report, a shipping route gone down, another rival captured. its nothing urgent, though it feels as though its been dragging on forever. you were starting to see the twitching in his jaw, despite how deathly still he seemed to sit through these meetings.
you didn't have much reason to be here either. but wooyoung would let you sit in sometimes, something he doesn't try to justify to anyone. he says its good practice for if he ever dies, a joke you have long since told him you don't find funny.
but today you're here, and today its taking far too long.
you can already feel it wearing you down. you pick at your nails for a solid ten minutes, but that isn't enough. at some point, your leg is bouncing unconsciously under the table, a rather terrible combo as you continue to pick at your nails.
you didn't think he'd notice it. infact, he gave no indication that he did, save for the tapping of his finger slowing.
the room is rather silent, and you stop the anxious movements for a moment, lifting to meet wooyoungs gaze. the room is awkward, his men stare at each other for answers, but everyone is smart enough to not say anything.
"are you done yet?"
his voice is flat when he's tired. a little irate, if you didn't know him well. his eyes flicked back and forth between your hand and your leg, a faint exhale leaving through his mouth.
he grabs at your hands, surprisingly warm, closing around the one you'd been picking at.
"can't even sit still for an hour." he grumbles under his breath, signaling for his men to continue. which they do, with the most bizarre looks of confusion and acceptance on their faces.
how awkward it must be for those poor men, you think.
one glances up to gauge the situation, eyes dropping as soon as he meets yours. the other is flipping through his notes as if he hasn't ever seen them before. the rest avoid eye contact, staring at random places when you look their way.
wooyoung is barely interested, running a thumb over your caged hand. he was enjoying it more than he showed.
you stop fidgeting.
instead you weasel out of his grip, grabbing his hand back. you can move your thumb to see the ink better, tracing the ones on his fingers all the way up. you follow it the ink trail to his wrist. he runs his own thumb over your fingers, squeezing to get a reaction.
"thats a better distraction, isn't it?" he mutters, only barely allowing you to catch it.
you do.
mafia boss wooyoung who puts anything he brings onto you immediately, like a dragon hoarding its treasures somewhere safe. somewhere familiar.
wooyoung has a habit of snatching things without realizing, handing off things to you as if expecting you to have any use for them.
it started small, keys, pens, a note, a lighter. he'll come in as he pleases, placing it in your hands to do with as you please. its cute, the kind of junk drawer you have now, full of things he's given you without explanation.
at some point, it stops being the smaller things though.
no, now hes slipping jewelry into your grasp.
you eye his items, and now they're yours to keep for eternity. thats just the way he is.
you eye a chain of his, and suddenly its wrapped around your wrist, wooyoung talking about how you can get it made into a bracelet and how someone owes him a favor, as you and his other men watch him rattle on.
then its one of his lucky cufflinks, claiming he lost the other half as he slips something shiny into his pocket, briefly glinting in the light. you tried to leave it in his night chest but you only find it in your hands the next morning, grip on it so tight you could see the indent of the pattern.
then its a copy of his signet. as much as he would've liked giving you the original signet, his cabinet was rather against it, offering to make, what was in his opinion, a rather subpar copy (something he was not very pleased by).
that too ends up in your hands. you joke he should give you the keys to the city at this point since he's so in love. he seems to consider it seriously for a moment.
you can hear one of his men choke up as he asks you with all the seriousness in the world: "which one?"
mafia boss!wooyoung whos always ready to indulge you in your interests, regardless of whether or not he finds them interesting.
there is not a single word registering in his brain, but he's still watching as you explain something about your favorite cars, pulling up your photos and showing him photos from what felt like years ago.
you're prattling off facts about a supercar you'd seen a couple of weeks ago when he shushes you, dead serious look on your face. for a moment, you think you've done something wrong. but then he grins.
"i remember you telling me about that one car... the valkyrie right?"
you blink.
"i- i think yeah?" by then he's not even listening to you, tapping away on his phone for a brief couple moments. when he's done, he sets it face down, face surprisingly nonchalant as he starts to talk to you.
"say, you wanna go to a car meet again? i know you loved them, and i got an invite from mingi pretty recently, he's having his crew race on the underground street circuits. was thinking of turning it down but if you like it..."
and that isn't even the biggest surprise.
the biggest surprise comes three weeks later, in the form of wooyoung guiding you around his home in a blindfold.
you hit your legs in multiple places, grumbling about bruising but he hushes you, giddiness apparent in his voice. you can almost imagine the look on his face as he leads you into what you know for a fact is the garage, by the sound that reverberates as he closes the door.
"are you ready?" you don't know what to say, so you just nod.
he drops your hand, walking behind you to pull off the blindfold.
in front of you is sitting a aston martin valkyrie. or what you'd assume to be an aston martin valkyrie. you're too shocked to say anything.
"woo, is this-" you choke out, stopping as you turn to him, rubbing your eyes. he's not even looking at the car. he's watching your face, as you've always seen him do.
"the car you kept talking about?" he shrugged, too casually for someone who had a million dollar car right in front of him. you keep blinking, because somewhere in there you think there is a joke being made.
"this doesn't make sense."
"i think it does." he says, getting closer to you.
"no no, listen to me." you turn to him, dead serious. "this isn't the type of car you can just call a dealership up for. they only produced them until 2024. there were only 275." your voice breaks on the number, bewildered.
he's grinning even wider now, almost as if begging you to ask him how he accomplished such a feat.
"wooyoung-" you started, but he held up a hand.
"i just had to call in some favors... well. a lot of favors from people who owed me big time. it wasn't that huge of a deal."
"you can't just do that!"
"i absolutely can."
you look at him.
he looks at the car, then you.
he's dead serious.
"so you just got your hands on the rarest hyper car in the world," you say, turning to him, "because i wouldn't shut up about it?"
he tilts his head head, making a face.
"that sounds a bit excessive?"
"because it is!"
"mhm." he's rolling his eyes at your shock. "you weren't being ungrateful when you saw it."
but you're back to staring down the car when you hear a jingle, turning your head in the direction of the sound.
theres keys dangling from his fingers. his expression is rather soft as he saunters up to you, hand on your lower back as he pushes you towards the car.
"c'mon." he huffs, although you can tell he's anything but annoyed. you stop right in front of the door, and thats when he takes your own hand, pressing the keys into them.
you want to give them back, but you seem to lose your voice when he curls your fingers around them.
"take them. 's not every day you get a car like that, right?" even when you don't respond, he presses a kiss to the side of your forehead, rubbing your shoulder.
"you're overthinking it. go and enjoy your car. someone'll be down in a bit to stay with you or even drive you, if you want that."
mafia boss!wooyoung who never wants to let you be far from him. he would do anything for your attention.
he's always hovering. it's kind of been a thing.
at first it was subtle, showing up to your job with food, flowers being sent, meeting you at your favorite coffee shop.
then you moved in with him.
that's when it got... odd.
if you were moving, he was somehow always near you. he'd follow you around the halls, like a lost puppy. if you were hiding in the library, he'd always find a spot next to you. hell even if you were hiding, he'd find a way to get into the spot, just wanting to be near you.
it was infuriatingly sweet how he'd have everything ready for you, even if it was a bit weird. you let him in for that exact reason.
thats why you notice when its too quiet. he's a creature of habit, and if he's not haunting the hall, then his voice is. but you can't seem to hear that today either.
you're sure you're just imagining it, that he's probably gotten better at hiding. maybe he was at another outing and he just forgot to tell you. you even stopped three or four times, and nothing came of it.
no wooyoung. your stomach tightened at the idea.
you check the places he's usually at out of habit. his library, office, living room are all empty.
the last place you could think of was his bedroom.
you squint when you open the door.
his room is dark, curtains closed, with no light but from what was coming in through the windows in the hall.
"wooyoung? what are you..."
"mmh. headache." his voice sounds exhausted, drained in a way that makes you pause for a moment.
you weren't naive, but you knew from experience headaches could be awful. closing the door behind you, you inched closer to his bedside, confused on what exactly was going on
"since when did it start?" you questioned hesitantly, standing over the side.
"its been here a while." he says after a brief pausing, softly moaning as he uncovered his head to look at you. "the lights were hurting my eyes."
even with the look of pain on his face, you could still see the look in his eyes, as if he was looking for something from you.
"i was looking for you." you mutter in response. "shoulda told me if something was going on."
"were you?" he hummed.
you raised an eyebrow. "i was... is there something i did or..?"
"what? no, never." he replied a little too quickly, earning a huff from you as you got closer to the edge of the bed to pull the blanket off him.
in hindsight, not your smartest idea.
he moves rather fast for a supposedly sick man. his hands grab around your waist, yanking you into bed before you can even say anything.
it's over before you can say anything about it, head settled against your shoulder, arms hugging your waist like he was hugging you. he's comfortable. too comfortable for a man with a headache.
"wooyoung-" you start, and he whines. actually whines like a child being told no. "but my head hurts."
"you said you have a headache."
"well. maybe i did."
"you still do?"
"not anymore."
you blink once. twice. you're still trying to process it when he lets out a happy little sigh, almost as if he's pleased with himself.
"you're quite proud of this, aren't you?" he doesn't say anything, just lazily leaving kisses on your neck. he thought he could distract you.
"you still came back to me. so it worked." his eyes flick to your face for a moment, but its not in a harsh or unforgiving way.
he's being soft about it.
you sigh.
"you're ridiculous."
"i know."
"you also have a meeting with your friends at 6."
"thats gonna get rescheduled anyways."
a/n: first full hc fic thing yipe! keep in mind i do not condone the illegal actions and romanticization of the mafia and any way the ateez memebers are portrayed is not indicative of their true nature!
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