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@wonw00t
love your audiosss, can you do Dino from seventeen eating you out!
dino smut audio
◞🪽 ⠀ ⁺⠀ ⥰ ⠀
𝖽𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𓈒 2:02 ┄┄┄┄
➷ 𐃬𐃬 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𓍢
wet sounds, pssy slapping (at the end), slight daddy k¡nk
➥ 𐃬𐃬 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌 𓍢
this req is from a few months ago.. whoops. so many to get through omg.
Back For More | J.WW
+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone you happen to share a history with. + pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader + genre(s): fluff, smut, romance, childhood acquaintances to lovers (?) + word count: 12.5k + content: mature language, teasing, smut, frat party, alcohol drinking… yeah [MDNI]
HC | Prologue | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV
[ᝰ.ᐟ] hey so i lied. i know i teased at part four a long time ago but with all of the collabs i had signed up for... my ass had to prioritize a few things. please don’t hate me y’all. but it’s out now! yayyyy!!! y’all can thank @cherry-zip for bullying me to no end and having to deal with my lazy ass hehe. i made sure to make this as long as possible so it could yk… make up for the super long wait. also, special thanks to @orbitondgtl and @luvrung for beta-reading this and making sure it didn’t sound like complete garbage. i have one final chapter i want to post until i’m completely done with this series ☹️ but thank you all for your support and again, i’m sorry it took so long for this to come out! anyways… please enjoy!!! <3333
You didn’t know exactly how long you’ve been laying in bed and staring at the ceiling for, but it was enough for you to notice the weird imperfections decorating it… like, who knew you had that many cracks near your ceiling fan?
Was it a little concerning? Maybe, but it seemed like your mind was taken up by more pressing matters. Like… last night.
Wonwoo.
God, all you could think about was Wonwoo.
The night before played on a loop behind your closed eyes, it was as if you had your own private screening of the events that took place yesterday. Seeing Wonwoo drenched in rainwater, looking like a sad, pathetic cat you couldn't help but let inside. You still felt the ghost of that first desperate kiss on the couch or the way his hands had been freezing until they weren't. Or the way he had looked at you from between your legs, pulling noises out of you that you almost didn't recognize as your own.
And while… you technically didn’t go the full mile with him, boundaries were still crossed. That was the scariest part of it all. The confrontation. Okay, confrontation might be too heavy but the acknowledgment of it?
Horrifying.
The silence of the room was heavy. It didn't help that his scent had found a way of latching itself onto your pillows and blankets. He was everywhere.
You shifted under the duvet, the fabric of your sleep shirt—the only thing that you were wearing at the moment—brushing against your skin. You felt a flush of heat crawl up your neck as you remembered exactly how you ended up in this state.
You reached out to your phone again, only to see the sticky note Wonwoo had left behind for you right next to it.
‘Had an early shift today. See you on Sunday :)’
You groaned, setting the phone down as you dragged a pillow over your face. What were you going to do?
But as if almost on cue, your phone vibrated.
[www.onwoo sent you a photo.]
Life had a funny way with timing, didn't it?
Your eyes practically bulged out of your head as soon as the picture loaded on the screen. It was a dimly lit selfie that was more focused on his neck than his face. His fingers were hooked onto his collar, effectively tugging it down to reveal what you had done to his neck the night before.
www.onwoo: you had a little too much fun last night… didn’t you? ;)
Oh my god.
The phone slipped from your hand, landing with a dull thud on your chest. You stared back at the ceiling, hoping for something or someone to put you out of your misery.
You didn't even have enough time to process the message before your door was shoved wide open.
“I know you're awake you little hussy!” Sohee sang out as she nearly launched herself onto your bed.
She scrambled over to you like an overly energetic puppy, tugging at your shoulder. You could feel her practically vibrating right next to you on the bed. She lifted her head up to look at you. “Tell me everything!”
You felt your stomach drop. “Tell you about what?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me! I literally walked your boyfriend out this morning.” She said as she rolled her eyes at you, dropping her head on your shoulder in disbelief.
“What—first of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” you tried to clarify, sitting up almost instantly, “and second of all, it’s none of your business!”
Sohee just cackled, completely undeterred by your weak protest. “None of my business? Honey, when a guy who looks like that sneaks out of your room at the ass crack of dawn, it becomes my business. Our business actually.” She propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “So, now spill. Who initiated it? Was it him? I bet—”
“Get out!” You shoved at her shoulder, your face heating up with every passing second. You were grateful you were still covered by your blanket, because you knew you had nothing but a t-shirt on.
Just then, Yubin’s head popped into the doorway, her eyebrow raising at the commotion. “I’m assuming this is about Wonwoo, right?”
“See! Even Yubin wants to know about it!” Sohee squealed, her figure squirming on your bed.
“I never said that,” Yubin said as she stepped into the room. She leaned against your dresser, looking unimpressed by your weak attempt to hide under the covers. “Although… I’m glad y’all did that while we were away. I would have killed myself if I had been home when you... you know,” she vaguely gestured at you and the bed.
You felt your face heat up again at the implication. God, this was so embarrassing.
Yubin smirked, checking her watch. Her expression shifted as she realized the time. “Actually, as much as I want to bully you right now… I have to go. I’m going to be late for my shift.”
She walked over to your bed, reaching over to grab Sohee by the back of her hoodie and hauling her off your bed. “Come on, gossip girl. You’re taking me to work today, since you have so much energy.”
“Wait! No—I didn’t even get any juicy details!” Sohee wailed, her fingers clawing at your duvet as she was dragged toward the door.
“We’ll get our details later today, don’t you worry!” Yubin sang out, her voice getting further and further away with every step she took.
The click of the front door shutting was the sweetest sound you’d ever heard. Silence—beautiful silence. You flopped back onto your pillows, the mattress groaning in protest, and grabbed your phone one more time.
Wonwoo’s selfie was still open, his collar showing how carried away you got the night before. Though, you couldn’t deny that it was a nice sight to see—the evidence of your own hunger written on his skin. Your phone vibrated from another message.
www.onwoo: i’m still thinking about the sounds you made birdy.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
You stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard while your heart pounded in your ears. Part of you wanted to throw the phone across the room and bury yourself under the covers for the rest of eternity. The other part—the one that always fought back—wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. Because you knew very well that Wonwoo was feeling cocky from last night’s events.
you: i bet. although… isn’t it too early to be getting this worked up? i thought you were supposed to be at work…
The typing bubbles appeared almost instantly. He was definitely slacking off… or maybe he was on break? Doesn’t matter.
www.onwoo: i am but… i enjoy pissing you off even more <3 and what better way to spend my shift than bothering you? :D
You rolled your eyes, but your fingers were already flying across the screen before you could stop them.
you: ugh, go away.
www.onwoo: you’re cute. save some of that energy for sunday. i’m looking forward to our “study” date.
Sunday.
Right.
You’d almost forgotten about the study date in the wake of… everything else. But before you could worry about Sunday, you had to survive tomorrow night. You’re not even sure which day you were afraid of more… a frat party filled with strangers or being alone with Wonwoo for a whole afternoon. Shivers ran down your spine at the mere thought of it.
You didn’t reply to his last message. You couldn’t. Instead, you set your phone on your nightstand and stared back up at the ceiling.
Oh, what were you going to do?
It was 8:47pm and you were still in your sweatpants, sitting on the floor of your closet and contemplating whether you could just feign a sudden, violent illness. Food poisoning wouldn’t be too far of a reach… right?
The party was going to start soon but you took zero initiative to get ready and besides, who comes to a party on time?
Your phone buzzed on your dresser. You scrambled for it, stomach already twisting from the anxiety. It was Wonwoo. Again.
www.onwoo: thinking of you
And another message right after:
www.onwoo: my roommates are gonna be out for the night. place is empty yk… in case you wanted to get ahead on our project…
A shiver ran its way down your spine. It was a blatant invitation. An offer to continue where you left off, maybe even go further than last time. It was so, so tempting.
Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, ready to type ‘be there in ten’ when another notification slid onto your screen, effectively killing the mood.
hyunwoo: i’m sorry, but something came up and i can’t walk over with you. just meet me at the party? i’ll make sure to save you a drink ;)
You stared at your phone, mind torn by the messages.
On one hand, you had Wonwoo—the man who had spent the last twenty-four hours haunting your thoughts—essentially offering you a repeat of what you now considered the best night of your life. “Get ahead on our project” was the most blatant lie you’d ever heard, and yet, part of you wanted to believe it just so you had an excuse to go.
On the other hand, there was Hyunwoo. He was nice and all, but there wasn’t anything interesting about him aside from his looks. Though, his text felt like a cold splash of water. Meet me at the party? The idea of walking into a house full of sweaty, shouting strangers by yourself was enough to make you want to crawl deeper into your closet and never come out. That was a bit dramatic but you aren’t completely lying either, anything would be better than going to some frat party.
“Of course,” you muttered, leaning your head against your knees. “Of course he’s not coming with me.”
You looked back at Wonwoo’s messages. Oddly enough, they felt like a warm hand on the small of your back. It was intoxicating in a way. If you went to his place, you wouldn’t have to worry about the loud music or having to talk to strangers you would probably never see again. You’d just have him. Him and his very empty apartment.
You weren’t a flake. You had promised Hyunwoo you’d go, and if you bailed now to go “hang out” with Wonwoo, what would that make you?
A heavy sigh escaped you as you started to type.
you: as tempting as that sounds… i unfortunately have plans tonight :( nice try though
The bubbles appeared instantly. He had been waiting on your response.
www.onwoo: oh right. i forgot you had plans with… what’s his name?
you: hyunwoo.
www.onwoo: right. have fun with that. offer still stands though for when you get bored of him, because i know you will.
Your jaw dropped at the last message. A new wave of anxiety—or maybe excitement—ran through you.
What the actual fuck.
You didn’t want to leave him hanging so you made one final reply before you actually started getting ready for the party.
you: i’ll think about it. don’t get your hopes up though.
You didn’t wait for his reply, opting to put your phone back on the dresser. After a beat of pure silence, you finally stood up and looked at what clothes to wear for the night. Wearing something casual should be acceptable right? It’s not like you’re going there to impress anybody either…
Yeah, casual is definitely the way to go. Maybe put on a little bit of makeup and call it a day—or night, in this instance. Easy enough.
You pulled out a simple but cute outfit and tossed it onto your bed before checking the time.
8:54 pm.
Let’s just get this over with.
As you walked closer to the frat house, you noticed just how loud it was. The windows glowed with the colorful lights as music pulsed from the inside. You hesitated on the sidewalk, already feeling out of place.
On second thought…
No.
You should at least text Hyunwoo that you’re here before ditching so it looks like you put in some effort in trying to meet up with him. That shouldn’t be too hard.
you: i’m here. where are you?
A minute or so passed by before he answered with a short, “inside”.
Amazing.
Thankfully, the entrance was open enough for you to just squeeze right through, but now you were lost. The first floor was crowded to the point where you didn’t even know if the house could legally hold this many people all at once. This had to be some kind of fire hazard.
You wandered around the party like a ghost—spectating the rest of the party goers and seeing how much fun they were having.
Must be nice.
Another five minutes passed by and not a single text from Hyunwoo. What an asshole. And here you felt bad for having thought about ditching him for Wonwoo.
At least you had a good reason to leave now. It’s not like there was anything or anyone waiting for you here anyway.
The air inside the house felt thick and suffocating. Bodies brushed past you as you tried to push through the crowd. You could see why some people liked going to these parties though; it was a good way of distracting yourself for the time being, plus you know it would be more fun with friends.
As you made your way back to the front door, you felt a firm hand tug and pull you back into something hard. Startled, you turned around, irritated and ready to pull away—until your eyes landed on the familiar figure standing in front of you.
“Oh,” you stared at him, blinking once in surprise.
Wonwoo cocked his head toward you, a lopsided smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Of all people.
Your stomach twisted and your first instinct was to pull away, but his grip tightened—firm but not forceful. Just enough to stop you from running away. And also to stop you from crashing into the couple passing next to you.
“Leaving already?” His voice cut through the noise, steady despite the volume of the party. But his eyes… there was something unreadable about them. Something that made you nervous.
You shook your head, still reeling. “Yes—but what are you doing here?”
His brow lifted in amusement, like he’d just found a hidden treasure in a pile of junk. “I could ask you the same thing, Birdy.”
He took a small swig of his drink, eyes looking you up and down.
“I take it that these were your big plans with Hyunwoo?” He mused, voice low and playful. “You really chose a party over my empty apartment? I’m hurt, Birdy.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. The guilt was there, but the confusion was stronger.
“Wait, hold on,” you started, narrowing your eyes at him. You had to step closer to him, your chest practically brushing his bicep, just to be heard over the music. “You didn’t answer my question, why are you here? Last I remember, you said you were going to be home alone and yet… you’re here.”
Wonwoo let out a low huff. He finally let go of your wrist, slightly raising both hands in mock surrender, as he mouthed out a small ‘oops’.
“Well, since you insist,” he said, leaning down until his lips were mere inches away from your ear. The proximity made your stomach do a slow, dizzying roll, his cologne invading your senses. “Those were the original plans, yes, but the guys forced me to come out last minute. Apparently, they don’t trust me to stay awake on driver duty anymore.”
He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his smirk widening. “I might have a small history of falling asleep while waiting for them. Mingyu and Seokmin had to walk back home once because I didn’t hear their calls. They won’t let me live it down.”
Your brain stalled, the names giving you whiplash. “Wait… Mingyu and Seokmin? You guys live together?” You nearly gasped, a surge of genuine excitement bubbling up—partly because you missed your old friends, and partly because you wanted to distract yourself from how good Wonwoo smelled.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours with a sudden, sharp intensity. “Why do you sound so excited about them, hm?”
“Ugh, it’s not like that you freak!” You said while giggling, reaching out to shove his chest. “I just haven’t seen them in so long, that’s all…”
Wonwoo’s tongue poked against the inside of his cheek. “Sure… if that’s what you’re choosing to go with.”
You rolled your eyes at his teasing.
He leaned away just a bit, getting a better look of your face. “Could’ve sworn you were just fine with me though.” His voice was smooth, but there was a slight edge to it, something annoyingly smug.
You wanted to say something back, anything, until you felt a few taps on your shoulder. You turned your head, ready to tell whoever it was that they had the wrong person, until you were met with two very familiar eyes looking back at you.
“I knew it was you!” Seokmin’s voice practically roared over the music. He looked a little broader than the last time you had seen him, but he still carried that boyish charm you loved him for. “What are you doing here? And when did you transfer? Because I knew you were at that college back home—”
“—Guys, do not drink from the blue punch bowl,” Mingyu’s voice rang out all of a sudden. “I swear I saw hair in it.” He stopped dead in tracks as soon as his gaze landed on you. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” you laughed, your voice straining to compete with the bass. Before you could say another word, Seokmin was pulling you into a massive, rib-crushing hug, lifting you clean off the floor.
“I told you!” Seokmin shrieked into your ear, ignoring Wonwoo’s wince. “I told Mingyu that I saw someone who looked exactly like you on the sidewalk, but he said I was imagining things because of how many shots I took earlier!”
Mingyu rolled his eyes as he quickly pulled you into another hug the moment Seokmin set you down. He looked over your shoulder at Wonwoo, his grin turning wicked. “So… what’s going between you two?”
You were quick to respond. “Nothing! We were just catching up, that’s all.”
Wonwoo hummed in agreement, smug at the way you had just lied to everyone's face.
Mingyu did one final look-over at you and Wonwoo, unconvinced by your quick response, though he wasn’t going to push. “…Sure.”
“Anyway!” Seokmin barked, clasping his hands together to break the weird air around the group. “Since we’re all together… why not get fucked up?”
He continued, practically vibrating with excitement. “We’re friends with the president so sometimes we have access to some of the better alcohol that they got here.”
“Dude, yes!” Mingyu cheered, grabbing your arm. “It’s been forever since we’ve hung out properly. We’re not letting you out of our sight tonight.” Seokmin joined in, linking his other arm through yours as they started to happily lead you towards the kitchen.
As the night went on, you continued drinking, laughing along with the guys—and Soonyoung, who had joined midway through a chaotic round of shots. The room buzzed with warmth and energy, your limbs feeling lighter with every sip of the spiked punch. You were midway through a messy round of beer pong, leaning over the table as you tried to get the perfect shot. Fortunately, you had been blessed with Mingyu being your teammate because you knew that out of the two of you—he was definitely carrying the team.
Somewhere between Soonyoung in dramatically reenacting a fight he definitely did not win and Seokmin insisting he could do a backflip—he absolutely could not—you felt a familiar presence settle beside you.
Wonwoo had been watching.
Even through the haze of alcohol, you could feel the weight of his gaze. Every time you stepped up to throw the plastic ball, his eyes lingered on the line of your back, the flush of your neck, and the way your hand was starting to shake a little more than normal.
While you pretended not to notice, your heart betrayed you by kicking up its pace every time you caught him staring, causing you to miss your shot entirely. Damn your heart for betraying you like this.
As you reached for the penalty cup, you felt a firm, cool hand close around yours.
“I think that’s enough for tonight.”
You blinked up at Wonwoo, your buzzed mind taking a second to process his words. “What?”
He gently pried the cup from your grasp, setting it back down on the table. He’d seen the way you had difficulty swallowing the last drink, your hand flying over to your mouth to suppress a gag as the burn of the alcohol hit you.
“No more drinks for you tonight,” he murmured, his voice low enough to stay between the two of you.
You pouted, tugging on his sleeve. “But I was having fun! We’re winning! Tell him, Mingyu!”
Mingyu, who was busy lining up his own shot, just laughed. “Actually… we’re down by four, and you just threw a shot straight at the floor. I think it might be time you call it a night.”
Soonyoung let out a dramatic gasp. “He’s cutting you off? That’s crazy. I’d never let a man control me like that.”
Seokmin nodded in agreement. “For real.”
You turned back to look at Wonwoo. “C’mon,” you slurred out, “I’m doing fine…”
Seokmin just snorted, waving a dismissive hand. “Girl, just let your boyfriend take care of your ass.”
You gasped. “He’s not my—”
Before you could find a comeback, Wonwoo’s hand was tugging at yours. His head nodded in the direction toward the front door.
Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh~” He sang. “Alone time?”
Wonwoo rolled his eyes but didn’t bother responding. Instead, he wrapped his arm around your waist and led you out of the kitchen, your steps slightly faltering as you followed him.
“Have fun you lovebirds~” Soonyoung cooed out from a distance.
You barely noticed the cold air hitting your skin when he finally brought you outside. The music was muffled now, the party still raging on without you.
Wonwoo glanced at you. “Better?”
You hummed, stretching your arms out before immediately wrapping them around his neck. “Much better.”
He scoffed but didn’t pull away. Instead, he let you cling to him, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second before loosening again.
“You’re clingy tonight,” he muttered.
You nuzzled into his chest, voice soft. “And you’re nice.”
Wonwoo froze.
“…Nice?”
You nodded. “You’re taking care of me when you technically don’t have to.”
For a moment, he said nothing, choosing to only hum in response. Then, his hand brushed over your lower back—he was warm.
You swayed slightly, clinging onto Wonwoo as the cool night air wrapped around you. The quiet outside was a stark contrast to the chaos inside, but you found that you didn’t mind—it was nice like this. Just you and him.
Your stomach fluttered, and for a moment, you thought it was from the way Wonwoo had been looking at you all night. Or how his hands steadied against your waist whenever you stumbled. But then, the sensation twisted, turning unpleasant, and you realized with panic that those weren’t butterflies.
You quickly let go of Wonwoo as your vision tilted slightly.
Wonwoo frowned. “You okay?”
You swallowed thickly, nodding way too fast. “Yeah. I just—” You opened your mouth to continue, but the moment you did, the nausea slammed into you full force.
Your eyes widened. “Oh no.”
He tensed at that.
Without saying another word, you yanked yourself from his hold and lunged toward the bushes nearby, emptying the contents of your stomach.
Wonwoo was at your side in an instant, pulling your hair back as he crouched next to you. “God, I told you that was enough,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words. His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as you heaved, whispering soft reassurances. “Just let it all out. You’ll feel better.”
You groaned, resting your forehead against your arm when you finally finished. “I want to die.”
Wonwoo snorted but didn’t stop his soothing motions. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, voice softer now.
You weren’t sure how long you sat there, hunched over the bushes with Wonwoo’s steady hand rubbing slow, soothing circles along your back. The worst of the nausea had finally passed, leaving you drained and a little too aware of the fact that Wonwoo had just witnessed you at your absolute lowest.
You wiped your mouth before shooting him a weak glare. “Don’t look at me.”
“I literally just watched you throw up, I think the damage is already done, Birdy.” His smirk was downright smug as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
You shoved your face into your hands. “I’m never drinking again.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mused, patting your back. “You and everyone else who’s ever thrown up at a party.”
You groaned again, this time in embarrassment rather than nausea. “I hate this.”
Wonwoo hummed, lightly patting your back. “Could be worse.”
You turned your head just enough to glare at him. “How?”
He smirked, leaning a little closer. “Could’ve thrown up on me.”
Despite your current state, a laugh bubbled up from your chest. “Don’t jinx it.”
Wonwoo let you rest against him for a little while, his hand warm and steady on your knee. Eventually he sighed, shifting slightly. “Alright, come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You groaned, but didn’t resist as he helped you up, his hands firm on your waist to steady you. The ground felt a little uneven beneath your feet, but Wonwoo was there, keeping you upright.
“Ugh,” you whined as you wiped at your mouth again. “I feel disgusting.”
“You look the part, too,” he deadpanned, but the teasing glint in his eyes softened the jab.
You smacked his arm weakly, pouting. “I take back what I said, you’re not nice.”
The moment you stepped inside, the heat and noise of the party hit you full force again. The contrast was disorienting, and you clutched at Wonwoo’s arm instinctively. He glanced down at you, a little amused, but didn’t say anything as he led you through the crowd.
“Bathroom,” you mumbled, blinking up at him. “Where..?”
“I got it,” he assured, steering you toward the hallway. You were grateful he seemed to know his way around, because the last thing you wanted was to stumble around like a lost idiot in front of a bunch of drunk strangers.
Once you reached the bathroom, Wonwoo knocked once before opening the door and peeking inside. “All clear,” he said, holding it open for you.
You let out a relieved sigh and stepped in. “Give me like, two minutes.”
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Take your time.”
You shot him a suspicious look. “You’re waiting?”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Yeah, just in case you pass out and drown in the sink.”
You squinted at him, holding onto the bathroom door for stability. “…I don’t know if that’s sweet or offensive.”
He smirked. “A little bit of both.”
Rolling your eyes, you shut the door and turned to the dirty mirror in front of you, groaning at your reflection. You looked as bad as you felt—your lipstick smudged, your hair slightly out of place, and your skin a little too flushed. You did your best to clean up, wiping areas where your makeup had smudged as well as rinsing your mouth out.
When you finally stepped back outside, Wonwoo was still waiting, just as he said he would. His eyes scanned you briefly before he nodded in approval. “Better.”
“I was going to say thanks,” you grumbled, weakly shoving at his chest, “but now I’m rethinking it.”
He caught your wrist before you could fully pull away, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. He didn’t let go, instead stepping into your space to shield you from the rest of the party-goers. “You should say it,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “Seeing as I’m the only reason you didn’t end up face-down in the grass.”
Your breath hitched, heart stuttering in your chest. Damn him, because he knew what he was doing—knew how easily he could get under your skin.
Instead of giving him the satisfaction, you huffed, yanking your wrist free. “Let’s go find the guys before I decide to ditch you.”
Wonwoo sighed, but his gaze softened as he watched you sway. “Actually… I think you should wait outside. Staying in here with this heat and the bass is only going to make you feel worse. I’ll grab the guys so we can finally get out of here.”
You gave a sleepy, miserable nod. After hurling your guts out, the idea of going back outside didn’t sound so bad. “Okay,” you murmured, already turning toward the exit.
The night breeze was a blessing. You found a sturdy tree-swing a few yards away from the porch, the thick rope creaking softly as you sat down. You had seen it when you first came to the house, you were just happy to find a place to sit while you waited on Wonwoo. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against the rope, letting the cool breeze settle your nausea just a bit. For a brief moment, it was peaceful—until you heard the crunch of gravel behind you.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who’s voice it was. When you finally did, you saw him standing there with a solo cup and a weak, unsettling smile.
“Sorry I didn’t reply to your texts,” he said, his tone dripping with fake sincerity. “I got caught up in something… really important. I hope you understand.”
Even through the hazy, alcohol-induced fog clouding your brain, his condescending tone was crystal clear. You looked up at him, at the stupid apologetic expression on his face, and something inside you snapped.
“Important, huh?” You huffed, a surge of cold irritation cutting through your nausea. “Save it, Hyunwoo. Honestly, just fuck off already. I shouldn’t have bothered coming here in the first place, you wasted my time by making me wait for you.”
Hyunwoo’s face hardened instantly. “Fuck off? That’s rich coming from you.” He stepped closer, his shadow looming over you. “Looks like you still found a way to have a good time without me, didn’t you? I saw you with that group of guys inside. You seemed pretty cozy for someone who was ‘waiting’ for me.”
“What was I supposed to do? Stand at the door like a dog?” you snapped, your grip tightening on the swing rope. “Plus, I don’t owe you any explanation after you ditched me.”
“Oh, please,” Hyunwoo scoffed, stepping dangerously close. “Don’t act all high and mighty. Not everything revolves around you, okay? I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want.”
“Then why the hell would you invite someone to a party just to ditch them?” you challenged, trying to stand up, but the swing wobbled unreliably. “Just back off, Hyunwoo. I mean it.”
He didn’t move away. Instead, he stepped closer. His hand reached out to grab the swing’s rope to keep you in place. A cold spike of panic flared in your chest. The two of you were alone outside, and you were in no condition to defend yourself if things got nasty.
A hand clamped onto Hyunwoo’s shoulder, and with one sharp, controlled burst of strength, Wonwoo shaved him back. Hyunwoo stumbled over his own feet, nearly hitting the dirt before he regained his balance.
“What the fuck?” Hyunwoo barked out, irritation running through his face.
He straightened up a bit, face painted with a kind of red that only embarrassment can bring. “What the hell is your problem—”
His voice cut off the moment he looked past Wonwoo. Standing right behind him were Mingyu, Seokmin, and Soonyoung. They weren’t making a scene, but their presence alone was a wall of witnesses he wouldn’t be able to ignore. Hyunwoo glanced back over to where you were sitting, and realized that there was no way he was going to win this.
With an unhappy, bitter sigh, he muttered a curse and headed back toward the house.
The silence that followed was heavy until Seokmin stepped forward. His voice was gentle, a tone he reserved for more serious situations. “Hey… you okay? He didn’t touch you, did he?” He asked as he held his hand out to you, letting you use him to get off the swing.
“I’m fine,” you whispered, finally letting out the breath you’d been holding. “Just… ready to go home now.”
The walk to the car was a blur. Wonwoo kept his hand on the small of your back the entire time, guiding you towards the car. He pulled the front passenger door open for you, helping you settle into the seat.
‘Wai—Hey!” Mingyu whined as he climbed into the back, mushed between Seokmin and Soonyoung. “Why am I being put in the back of my own car? This isn’t fair—”
“Stop whining,” Wonwoo muttered as he situated himself in the driver’s seat. “I’m not putting her in the back with you idiots, so just deal with it.”
The others just laughed, already half-asleep or distracted by their phones, while Mingyu continued to grumble about how “cramped” it was in the back.
You looked over at Wonwoo, whose attention was on the road. You could tell he was still bothered by the confrontation from earlier and despite how shitty you felt at the moment, you managed to mutter a small ‘thank you’ to him before succumbing to the exhaustion from the night.
You weren’t sure when your eyes fully closed. Only when you opened them again, everything was different.
The muffled bass of the party was gone, replaced by the distant hum of a car engine. Street lights flickered past, casting faint glows through the window. You stirred slightly, feeling the seatbelt strap pressing against your chest and the steady warmth of a hand on your thigh.
How the hell did you get here?
You blinked sluggishly, trying to piece together how you got here, but your thoughts were too foggy to hold onto. The only thing that registered was the low voice beside you.
“Almost home,” the familiar voice muttered.
Your lips parted, but no words came out. The smooth vibration from the car almost effectively lulling you back to sleep.
Well, that was… until the car suddenly stopped.
It felt like mere seconds later when you heard the faint click of the doors unlocking, the abrupt noise pulling you further away from the haze of sleep.The guys all sluggishly slipped out of the backseat one by one. Mingyu even managed to bump his head as he slid out of the car, only for it to be followed with an almost silent cry.
And without much thought, you followed along. Well, at least tried to.
“Where are you going?” Wonwoo caught your hand before you were able to fully unbuckle yourself from the passenger’s seat.
“…Inside?” You lazily gestured towards the direction the guys were heading to.
Wonwoo looked at you skeptically. “You don’t want me to drop you off at your place?”
You shook your head.
“Are you sure?”
You scoffed at his apprehension. It was cute, but you needed to crawl into a bed right now. It didn’t matter whose bed it was.
“Wonwoo,” you sighed out, “I’m completely sure, I mean we even slept—”
“—Okay, I get it.” He muttered as he shut the car off, grumbling to you about staying in your seat.
A moment later you felt a huge gust of cold air rush right past you as soon as Wonwoo opened your door.
“Wow, you’re such a gentleman, Woo,” You annoyingly batted your eyelashes at him.
He only rolled his eyes at your teasing, and yet, he still held his hand out for you. And when you interlaced your fingers with his—they were warm and stable.
The walk to his place was rather short but, with the way your head was still reeling from tonight’s decisions… yeah, you needed to lie down like right now.
By the time you reached his unit, a giggle escaped you—Mingyu, Seokmin, and Soonyoung were slouched against the door like a group of wasted zombies who’d completely forgotten how to function. Wonwoo let out a long, tired sigh beside you—one that very clearly said “I cannot believe these idiots couldn’t open the door.”
“Finally,” Seokmin groaned at the sight of Wonwoo, “we thought we were going to be out here all night!”
The moment Wonwoo pushed the door open, Mingyu, Seokmin, and Soonyoung shoved past him like they had just escaped a war zone. Shoes were kicked off haphazardly, jackets flung over furniture, and Seokmin collapsed face-first onto the couch with another dramatic groan.
You followed much slower, still groggy but steadily sobering up with each passing second. The cool night air had cleared some of the fog in your mind, and now, as you stepped inside, you took in your surroundings with some clarity. The apartment was surprisingly clean for three guys living together. Warm lighting softened the space, posters lined the walls, and the open layout of the living room and kitchen made it feel cozy.
But what caught your attention wasn’t the apartment itself.
It was the sleek black cat perched on top of the couch, staring at you with piercing green eyes.
“Oh,” you mumbled, blinking at the pretty kitty. “Who has a cat?”
Wonwoo barely had time to answer before the cat gracefully hopped down and strutted toward you. She sniffed at your leg, tail flicking, before rubbing against you as if claiming you as her own.
Your mind sharpened a little more as you crouched down, fingers threading through her sleek fur.
“Looks like Gigi likes you,” Wonwoo observed, sounding mildly impressed.
You grinned, crouching down to scratch behind her ears. “She’s so pretty.”
“She’s evil,” Seokmin muttered from the couch. “Don’t let her fool you.”
“She’s just selective,” Wonwoo defended, watching as you scratched under his cat’s chin.
You glanced up at him with a tired, playful smile. “So, does this mean I’m special?”
Wonwoo met your gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Maybe.”
Gigi curled around your legs, tail flicking against your calf as you stroked her sleek fur, her purring loud despite the lingering noise from the rest of the apartment.
The guys had mostly settled in by now—Mingyu had disappeared into his room without a word, Seokmin was sprawled across the couch as if someone had thrown him on there, and Soonyoung was rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, mumbling something about needing a “midnight recovery snack.”
You were still feeling a little groggy, the weight of exhaustion clinging to you like a thick blanket, but you were awake enough now to register the warmth of the apartment.
The scent of something warm and herbal caught your attention. You turned your head to see Wonwoo setting a mug on the kitchen counter, the steam curling up into the air.
“Why did you make tea?” you asked, blinking in mild disbelief.
Wonwoo scoffed, barely sparing you a glance as he leaned against the counter. “You literally threw up earlier.”
Seokmin mumbled something incoherent, face half-buried into the couch cushion. Then, with a sleepy grin, he added, “what a simp.”
Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. “Shut up.”
But Seokmin wasn’t done. “Nah, for real, if this were any of us, he would’ve let us rot.”
“It’s true,” Soonyoung chimed in from the fridge, voice muffled as he dug around for god-knows-what. “Where was this energy when I had food poisoning, huh?”
“You got food poisoning because you ate gas station sushi,” Wonwoo said flatly.
“And yet, I still deserved some love and compassion!” Soonyoung shot back before popping a random grape into his mouth.
You snorted, turning your attention back to the tea.
The mug was warm in your hands as you lifted it to your lips, letting the honeyed sweetness settle on your tongue.
“Good?” Wonwoo asked, watching you carefully.
You hummed in approval after taking a sip of the tea, then smirked as an idea popped into your head. “Wonwoo… are you actually taking care of me, or are you trying to get me into your bed faster?”
A beat passed.
One of the guys groaned in disgust.
Wonwoo exhaled sharply. Instead of arguing, he simply turned on his heel and walked toward his room, mumbling something about getting changed as he disappeared inside.
You grinned at his retreating figure, taking another slow sip of your tea. This was fun.
A few minutes later, when he reemerged from his room, you nearly choked on your tea.
Gone was the slightly rumpled party outfit. Now, Wonwoo stood in the doorway wearing a t-shirt and loose gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.
But it wasn’t just that.
It was the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the way his hair fell slightly messier than usual, giving him an effortlessly good look that had no business being this hot.
You weren’t sure why, but something about it made your stomach flip—in a good way this time.
Wonwoo barely spared you a glance as he walked over, dropping a small bundle of clothes directly over your lap. “Here.”
You blinked.
“Wow,” you muttered, staring down at the clothes on your lap. “Romance really is alive.”
Wonwoo ignored your sarcasm, reaching out to tug at your free hand. “Come on.”
You frowned in exaggerated confusion, refusing to budge. “Where are we going?”
“To my room.” He deadpanned.
“Oh?” You grinned, cocking your head.
His grip tightened slightly before he rolled his eyes, the tips of his ears noticeably pink. “You’re annoying.”
You cackled as he pulled you along, barely giving you a chance to set your almost-empty mug down before he dragged you into his room, shutting the door behind you.
The second you stepped into Wonwoo’s room you took a moment to glance around the space, taking in the surprisingly neat setup.
A sleek desk sat against the far wall, cluttered with books, a gaming setup and what looked like a few scattered notes from class. His bed had dark satin sheets that looked way too inviting after the night you had. Small posters of old movies and bands were pinned up, giving the space a bit of personality.
Your gaze flicked back to him, standing near his dresser, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“You have a nice room,” you mused, stepping further inside, tossing the clothes he had given to you on his bed. “Kind of expected it to be messier, though.”
Wonwoo scoffed. “Sorry to disappoint.”
You took one last glance around his room, eyes lingering on him just a second longer than necessary, before lifting your shirt up over your chest.
You didn’t really bother asking.
The shirt finally slipped over your head, followed by the rest of your clothes. You changed right in front of Wonwoo, your movements uncoordinated and sluggish—his eyes practically widened at the sight.
“…Seriously?” he muttered, ears already burning.
“Relax,” you said with ease, “I think we’re a bit past that point, don’t you think?”
You stepped into the sweatpants, lightly swaying as you attempted to straighten your legs out, one hand bracing against his bed.
And despite the exasperation in his voice, you knew that he wasn’t actually bothered by any of it, especially when his hand instinctively reached out to hold you steady as you changed.
Wonwoo only shook his head, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watched you finally stand still. Dealing with you while you were drunk was definitely a hassle, but as he watched your eyelids start to droop again with that same sleepy expression from the car ride, he knew he didn’t really mind taking care of you.
Despite the sleep pulling at you, a different need started to surface. You’d thrown up earlier at the party, a fact you were trying very hard to forget already, but the way your makeup was sitting on your face was suddenly unbearable. “Woo,” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
He hummed in response behind you, hands still holding onto your wavering figure.
“I need to… stuff,” you said, gesturing vaguely at your face. “Do you have a spare toothbrush or something? I feel so gross.”
He sighed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “I’ll see what we have in the closet. Try not to fall.”
He disappeared out the door, leaving you to sit on the edge of his mattress fighting the urge to lay down and burrow yourself into his sheets. He was back a minute later, holding up a spare toothbrush still in its packaging and a small packet of makeup wipes.
You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Wow, Wonwoo. Prepared for any late-night guests, are we?”
He rolled his eyes, tossing the items onto the bed next to you. “Don’t get any ideas. They’re probably from one of Seokmin or Mingyu’s… visits. I’m not the only one who lives here, you know.”
“Right… right…” you grinned, grabbing the stuff and hauling yourself from the bed. “Blame it on the roommates.”
When you returned from the bathroom, face clean and teeth brushed,Wonwoo was already in bed, propped up against the headboard. He looked devastatingly hot, especially with the way his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. The soft glow of the tv illuminated the room, playing some old cartoon from when you were kids. He turned the volume down low.
“Background noise,” he explained when you finally slid into the covers. “Helps me sleep.”
You hummed in response, snuggling into his side. The warmth of his body, the low drone of the tv, the comfort of the bed, it was perfect.
Though, the alcohol that still remained in your system had other ideas. You shifted closer to him than necessary, pressing a small kiss to the side of his neck, your hand trailing down his chest.
“You know,” you whispered, voice low and suggestive, “I know what we can do to sleep real good tonight.”
Wonwoo let out a long, tired groan, catching your wandering hand before it could go any further. “Nope,” he said, voice firm but gentle. “You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”
You pouted, pulling your hand back with a huff. “You’re no fun.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, wrapping an arm around you anyway, pulling you closer. “Now sleep.”
You grumbled but still settled against him, the rise and fall of his chest effectively lulling you into a deep sleep.
You woke up a few hours later. The room was still cast in the flickering light of the tv. Some late-night infomercial was playing, though you couldn’t really hear much of what was being said. A glance at your phone on the nightstand told you it was a little after three.
And you desperately had to pee.
This was horrible. The bed was a perfect cocoon of warmth, Wonwoo practically turned into your personal human radiator by this point. Leaving seemed like an impossible task, but you had to go. With a quiet sigh, you started to carefully extract yourself from his limbs.
The moment you moved, he stirred. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you back against him. “No,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Stay.”
“I have to pee,” you whispered, trying to wiggle free from his grasp.
“Don’t go,” he whined, burying his face in your hair. “It’s gonna be so cold without you.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his clinginess. “I’ll be right back. Two minutes, I promise.”
He grumbled in protest but finally loosened his grip enough for you to slip away. True to your word, you were back in under two minutes, slipping into the now cold spot beside him.
He immediately wrapped himself around you again. “Took you forever,” he complained into your shoulder. “I almost froze to death.”
“Oh, you’re such a big baby,” you teased, turning in his arms to face him. You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Better now?”
He hummed in approval, his eyes still closed. But the kiss… combined with the close proximity reignited the heat from earlier. The sleepy haze in your mind lifted just enough for that familiar, throbbing ache to return.
“I can think of an even better way to get warm…” you murmured against his mouth, pressing your hips against his.
Wonwoo’s eyes flew open once he sensed where this was going, letting out a pained groan in the process. “Are you serious? Go back to sleep you fiend.”
You giggled at his reaction.
Eventually, you both dozed off once again.
The next time you woke up, the pale gray light of the early morning was beginning to filter through the curtains. The tv was off this time, leaving the room in a heavy, ringing silence. You squinted, a dull, rhythmic throb behind your eyes reminding you of how much you drank the night before.
Wonwoo had spent a good portion of the night making sure you stayed somewhat hydrated and alive, but the hangover was still there which was annoying but deserved.
You glanced over at your phone for the time, it was seven in the morning. But that wasn’t what had gotten your attention originally.
It was the way something hard was pressing up against your ass.
A slow, wicked grin spread across your face, momentarily distracting you from the headache. Wonwoo was still fast asleep, his breathing deep and even. You shifted back ever so slightly, experimentally pressing your hips against him. He stirred in his sleep, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his arm around your waist instinctively pulled you closer to him.
This was just too good to ignore.
You began to move again, a slow, deliberate grind against his length. You kept the movements small and subtle, just enough to provide a delicious amount of friction. He started to stir more, hips beginning to move unconsciously, meeting your slow rhythm. A low groan rumbled from his chest. This went on for a few blissful minutes until, with a sharp inhale, he woke up completely.
His hand stopped your hips from moving any further. “You’re actually evil,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep and arousal.
You rolled over to face him, a triumphant smirk on your face. “Morning to you, too. Seems like someone’s happy to see me.”
He glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it.”You’ve been like this all night. Aren’t you tired?”
“Nope,” you lied, emphasizing the ‘p’. You trailed your finger down his chest, leaning in close to his ear. “Though… I do think I’m sober enough for you to fuck me now.”
A shiver ran through him, and he closed his eyes for a good second, as if gathering up all his strength. “You’re so annoying.”
“Hey, that’s my line,” you shot back, leaning in to kiss him this time. He kissed you back, a deep, hungry kiss.
When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. “I’m not kidding,” you said impatiently. “I’ve been wanting this ever since I saw you in those stupid glasses.”
“Fuck,” he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I know. But I’m not going to rush this just because you’re being impatient.” He pushed you gently onto your back, hovering over you now. The shift in position made your head throb once, but the way his weight was settling between your thighs seemed to distract you from the discomfort. “I’m gonna take my sweet time with you, Birdy.”
You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. “But I’m ready, Woo, please…”
He chuckled. “Oh, I know you think you are,” he murmured, fingers hooking into the waistband of your sweatpants. “But first, I want another taste.”
He didn’t wait for a response, slowly tugging the fabric down your legs and tossing them on the floor. He settled between your now bare thighs, his gaze dark and hungry.
He pushed your thighs further apart, settled between them, and then his mouth was on you. He started off strong, his tongue flat and firm against your clit, licking a broad, devastating stripe that made your back arch off the bed. You gasped, your hands flying straight to his hair. He wasn’t gentle; he was savoring you, his movements precise and punishing. It was exactly what you deserved for not shutting up all night.
He brought one hand up, pressing it firmly on your lower abdomen, holding you down against the bed. The pressure was intoxicating, grounding the floaty, hungover feeling in your head and concentrating everything right where he wanted it. You could feel your release building up, tight and hot.
His speed picked up, his tongue flicking rapidly against your most sensitive spot. Your legs started to shake, your thighs trying to close around his head from the overwhelming stimulation. He grunted in frustration, using his free hand to forcefully pry your legs open, holding them wide open.
In the middle of it all, right when you felt like you were on the edge of seeing stars, he reached up to where your hands were and laced his fingers with yours. It was such an intimate gesture, a stark contrast to the overwhelming pleasure he was making you feel.
“Wonwoo… I’m… I’m gonna…” you gasped, your fingers tightening around his.
And then… he stopped.
He pulled his mouth away completely, lifting his head. The sudden absence of stimulation was a physical shock, a cold wave crashing over you. Your eyes flew open, and you stared down at him in disbelief. “What…?” you breathed, your body still humming with pleasure that now had nowhere to go.
He just looked up at you, a dark, knowing smirk on his glistening lips. He said nothing. He just watched you as your orgasm receded, leaving behind a hollow, desperate ache.
A frustrated whimper escaped your throat, and to your utter mortification, your eyes started to sting. “You… you can’t be serious,” you choked out, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye and tracing a path down your temple. “Why would you do that?”
He finally moved, but not to resume. He shifted up, his fingers replacing his tongue as he slowly, deliberately pushed one inside you. Your body clenched around the intrusion, a desperate attempt to find friction. “Because,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he began to slowly pump his finger, “you spent all night teasing me. I feel like it’s only fair that you go through what I felt all night.”
You rolled your eyes in irritation, dropping your head back onto the pillow. “It’s not the same! I at—”
He cut you off, shifting up your body in one swift motion and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was demanding, his way of telling you to shut up without needing to actually say anything. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of where he had just been. He kissed you until your frustration melted away into a desperate, pliant need, only then did he pull back and move back between your legs.
He added a second finger, stretching you further, scissoring them inside you. The stretch was a dull, pleasant ache, but it wasn’t enough. It was a cruel parody of what you actually needed. “Please, Wonwoo,” you whined, grinding your hips down onto his hand. “Please, let me cum.”
“Not yet,” he said simply, adding a third finger. The stretch was now significant, a burning sensation that mingled with the desperate need. He was opening you up, preparing you, and the thought of what he was preparing you for made you even wetter. He leaned back down, and you thought he was finally going to let you have it, but instead, he just blew a cool stream of air over your clit, making you jolt.
He went back to work, a devastating combination of his fingers curling inside you, pressing against that spot that made you see white, and his tongue returning to your clit with maddeningly light flicks. It was a relentless, calculated assault. The tension built again, even stronger this time. You were so close, the pleasure so sharp it was almost painful. You tried to stay quiet, remembering his roommates, but a choked moan escaped your lips. You grabbed a pillow from beside you and pressed it over your face, muffling the cries you couldn’t hold back.
In a flash, Wonwoo’s free hand ripped the pillow away. “No,” he asserted, his voice firm. “I want to hear you. I want to hear you cry for me.”
The vulnerability of being so completely exposed, of having no choice but to let him hear every sound he pulled from you, sent you spiraling. The pressure inside you peaked, your vision going white, your body tensing as you finally, finally hurtled towards the edge.
And he stopped again.
He pulled his fingers out and lifted his head, leaving you empty and trembling. A sob of pure frustration tore from your throat. This time, you couldn’t stop the tears. They flowed freely now, hot tracks of desperation on your face.
“You’re an asshole,” you cried, your voice cracking.
He laughed, a low, dark chuckle that vibrated through you. He hovered over you, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I told you. Payback.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “How does it feel, Birdy? To be so desperate but not be able to do anything about it?”
That was it. That was the breaking point. The playful teasing, the edging, the frustration—it all fused into a single, burning need. You were done playing games.
You used every ounce of strength you had to shove him, surprising him enough that he rolled onto his back. You scrambled over him, straddling his waist, hair a wild mess around your face.
“I’m done,” you panted, hands fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants. “I’m done with your stupid torture. I need you inside me. Now.”
You yanked his sweatpants and boxers down in one rough motion, and his cock sprang free, thick and hard against his stomach. He was leaking precum, the tip flushed a deep, angry red. He was so ready for you, and it only fueled your desperation.
You started to sink down onto him, but his hands shot out, gripping your hips and stopping you. “Wait,” he breathed, his eyes wide. “Raw? Are you sure?”
“I don’t care,” you said instantly, your voice ragged. “Are you clean?”
He stared up at you, his chest heaving, his eyes searching yours. He saw the raw, unfiltered need there, and something in him snapped. “Yes,” he rasped. “I’m clean.”
“Then shut up,” you ordered, and you sank down onto him.
The stretch burned in the most exquisite way, a deep, full pressure that stole your breath. He was bigger than you anticipated, and the feeling of him filling you so completely was overwhelming. You took it slow, your body adjusting inch by inch until he was fully seated inside you. You collapsed forward, your forehead resting on his chest, your body trembling.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained, his hands stroking your back soothingly.
You took a deep breath, then pushed yourself up, a slow, wicked grin spreading across your face. You smacked his chest, right over his heart.
“You’re so big,” you said with awe.
You looked down between your bodies, where you were joined, and saw the mess of pre-cum on his stomach. “And look at you,” you teased, rocking your hips experimentally. “You’re all worked up from just eating me out…”
He groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “Fuck, can you please move?”
You hummed while you pretended to think about his request. “Only if you take your shirt off.”
Wonwoo sighed in annoyance, briskly shifting his torso upward to pull his shirt over his head in one fluid motion before reaching out to tug firmly on the hem of yours. You huffed in amusement before pulling the fabric over your head. Wonwoo’s gaze immediately zeroed in on your chest, muttering out a low ‘fuck’ at the sight in front of him.
Pleased with his obedience, you started to move. It was slow at first, a deliberate roll of your hips that had you both gasping. You found a rhythm, increasing your speed, your hands braced on his chest. The feeling was heavenly, the drag of him inside you hitting all the right spots. Wonwoo’s hands were everywhere, roaming up your back, tangling in your hair, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples and making you cry out.
He was getting vocal, low groans and curses spilling from his lips as you bounced on his cock. He was completely gone, lost in the pleasure, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. He looked utterly fucked out.
The sight sent a jolt through you, making your pussy gripped his cock tighter. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he lifted his hips up to meet each one of your vile bounces. But the relentless pace was starting to take its toll on your energy—your thighs were burning, your movements were becoming sloppy.
Wonwoo sensed it immediately.
In one smooth, powerful motion, he sat up, wrapping his arms around you in a tight bear hug—pulling you flush against his chest. Your movements faltered as you collapsed against him, panting. He held you for a split second, face buried in your neck, and then he planted his feet firmly on the bed.
He started fucking up into you with a force you’ve never experienced before. The new angle was devastating. He was hitting deeper, harder, his hips snapping up with a brutal rhythm. All you could do was hold on, your arms wrapping around his neck as your body was completely overwhelmed by his.
The headboard slammed against the wall with a rhythmic, damning thud. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your combined moans and groans. There was no way the others couldn’t hear you but Wonwoo didn’t seem to care. He’d heard Mingyu and Seokmin enough times. It was his turn if anything.
One of his hands left your waist, sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp. His other hand roamed lower, gripping your ass possessively before he delivered a sharp, stinging smack. The sound echoed in the room, and the jolt of pain turned pleasure that shot through you made your pussy clench around him.
“Fuck,” he groaned. Wonwoo did it again, harder this time, leaving a warm, tingling imprint on your skin. “You like that, don’t you, Birdy?”
You could only moan in response, your mind going blank as he shifted his grip. His hand moved from your ass to your chest, groping your breast, his thumb and forefinger rolling your nipple between them. He pinched hard, sending a sharp jolt straight to your clit. He leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive area between your neck and shoulder—not kissing—but biting you. He was leaving his claim all over your body, and the possessiveness of it all sent you spiraling.
You were completely at his mercy, he held you tight in his embrace as he chased your high. The coil in your stomach tightened to an impossible degree, the pleasure so sharp and intense it was almost blinding. “Won— I’m—” you choked out, nails digging into his shoulders.
Wonwoo could only grunt in response, as he continued to buck up into your heat. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your entire body convulsed, your pussy clamping down around his cock as waves of pleasure wash over you. Despite your overstimulated cries, he continued to fuck you through your orgasm—hips never faltering.
He followed you over the edge a moment later with a guttural groan, burying himself deep inside you as he came, his warmth flooding all of your senses. He stilled, his body a heavy, comforting weight against yours as you both struggled to catch your breath.
“You okay?” He asked as he stroked your arm in soothing circles. You could only nod in response, your mind was still reeling from all the pleasure.
For a moment, you just stayed like that, a tangled, sweaty heap. But it didn’t last long before he was moving again, his energy seemingly endless. In one fluid motion, he pulled out and flipped you over with surprising strength. He grabbed your hips, pulling your ass up until you were on your knees, face down into his pillows.
You barely had a second to process the new position before he was slamming back into you, the new position hitting a devastating angle.
He just chuckled. “What’s wrong, Birdy?” he taunted, his hips starting a new rhythm. “You were so desperate for me earlier, begging me to fuck you. Are you gonna tap out on me after just one round?”
You wanted to snap back, tell him to go to hell, but you couldn’t form a single coherent though. All you could do was feel the way he was filling you up again.
He set a harsh pace, his grip on your hips tight enough to leave bruises. It wasn’t long before you both reached the edge again, bodies still feeling the effects of the last round. He reached over, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, fast circles. That was all you needed. Your orgasm crashed over you again, a blinding all-consuming release that had you crying out his name. Your walls clenched around him, and he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own end.
He came with a raspy groan as he buried himself deep inside you. You felt the hot spurts of his release and you instinctively pushed back against him—milking him of what was left. After a beat or so, Wonwoo let himself fall on top of you, the sensitivity finally hitting him.
For a long moment, you just lay there, feeling the pleasant, bone-deep ache in your muscles and the comforting weight of him still inside you. You could feel his heartbeat, a wild thrum against your back, slowly beginning to calm.
He started to shift, preparing to pull out, but you panicked, your hand shooting back to grab his hip, holding him in place. “No,” you breathed, the word muffled by the pillow. “Don’t. Not yet.”
He stilled, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice a low, raspy vibration against your skin. “I won’t.”
You weren’t ready for it to be over. For the connection to be broken. The thought of him leaving you empty now was unbearable. You needed a minute, just one more minute, to memorize the feeling of being this full, this connected.
But as your breathing evened out and the post-orgasmic haze settled, a new awareness crept in. The sticky mess between your thighs, the sweat cooling on your skin, the lingering taste of him in your mouth. It was glorious, but it was also gross.
“We need a shower,” you mumbled into the pillow.
Wonwoo let out a weak, breathy laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed, but he made no move to get up. “In a minute.”
That minute stretched into two, then five. You were drifting in a state of blissful exhaustion, halfway to sleep, when you felt it. A slow, deliberate roll of Wonwoo’s hips against your ass. He was still inside you, and he was getting hard again.
Your eyes fluttered open. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you whispered, a disbelieving laugh escaping you.
He chuckled, his lips tracing the line of your spine. “Why are you surprised?" he murmured, his voice already thick with renewed desire. “You’re the one that asked me to stay inside of you.”
He rolled his hips again, a slow, deep grind that had you gasping. It was a lazy, possessive movement, a stark contrast to the frantic pace from before.
“Again?” you asked, your voice laced with awe and a burgeoning excitement. You were sore but your body was already responding to his lazy thrusts, a familiar heat blooming low in your belly.
“Just one more time,” he promised, his voice a low rumble. He slowly, carefully pulled out, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness. He flipped you over onto your back, his eyes roaming over your body—your flushed skin, the marks he’d left on your neck and chest, the mess between your legs. He looked hungry, like a predator admiring his kill.
He settled between your thighs, not entering you yet, just resting his cock against your slick folds. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. It wasn’t frantic or demanding; it was lazy, thorough, a kiss that was meant to be savored. He was tasting you, claiming you all over again.
“Your greed sickens me,” you quipped against his mouth, your hands tangling in his messy hair.
“You started it,” he countered, but he was smiling. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. “This time, though… we’re going slow.”
He reached down, lining himself up with your entrance, and then he pushed inside, excruciatingly slowly. You were already so sensitive, so thoroughly used, that every inch was a potent, overwhelming sensation. You felt every ridge, every vein of him as he filled you. He watched your face intently, his gaze dark and focused, as if memorizing your every reaction.
When he was finally fully seated, he paused, letting you adjust. “Okay?” he asked softly.
You could only nod, your throat too tight to form words.
He started to move, a slow, languid rhythm that was somehow more intense than the brutal pace from before. Every thrust was deep, deliberate, grinding against your A-spot in a way that made your toes curl. There was no urgency now. This wasn’t about chasing a quick release; this was about drawing out the pleasure, about savoring every single second.
His hands roamed your body, caressing your breasts, stroking your sides, gripping your hips to pull you deeper onto his cock. He was everywhere. He leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue lazily exploring your mouth, matching the rhythm of his hips.
You were completely lost in it, in him. The room, the apartment, the world outside—it all faded away. There was only Wonwoo, the weight of his body on yours, the slow, deep drag of his cock inside you, and the low, encouraging sounds he made in your ear.
“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “So perfect, taking me so well.”
His praise sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles at the small of his back, urging him deeper. He groaned, burying his face in your neck, his thrusts becoming a little harder, a little faster.
The slow burn was building again, but this time it was different. It wasn't a sharp, explosive peak waiting to happen; it was a slow, creeping tide, rising gradually, threatening to drown you in pleasure. You could feel it in your trembling limbs, in the way your breath hitched, in the desperate, needy sounds you couldn’t stop making.
“Wonwoo,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. “I… I can’t…”
“I know,” he grunted, his own rhythm starting to falter. “Let go for me, baby.”
He reached down between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He didn’t rub it frantically; he just pressed down, applying slow, and firm flicks as he continued to thrust into you. The slow tide peaked and your orgasm washed over you, a long, rolling wave of pleasure that seemed to go on forever. You cried out his name, your body arching against his as you clenched around him, pulling him deeper.
He groaned your name like a prayer, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge, his own release pulsing deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm, and you held him tight, your arms wrapped around his back, your hearts beating in tandem.
You lay there for what felt like an eternity, basking in the afterglow. The sun was higher now, casting a bright, golden glow around the room. The sounds of the apartment were starting to stir—distant cupboard doors closing, the low rumble of a voice in the living room. That’s going to be a problem for later.
Finally, Wonwoo lifted his head, his eyes soft and sated. “Okay,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Now we really need to shower.”
You hummed in agreement, though you didn’t feel like moving yet. The adrenaline was draining out of you as each second passed and with that, your limbs began to feel like lead.
Wonwoo let out a weak, breathy laugh, but he didn’t argue. He shifted, slowly and carefully pulling out of you. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, a feeling you were already starting to hate. He grabbed a few tissues from the nightstand, gently cleaning you up before tossing them in the trash. He pulled the blanket over your tangled bodies, settling back onto his side, propping his head up on his hand to look at you.
“Five minutes,” he echoed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
You felt the gentle weight of his arm drape over your waist, pulling you just a little closer. The sounds of the apartment faded away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing and his heartbeat.
Five minutes was all you needed before facing the world.
Or maybe ten.
tag list pookies :3
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Games We Play||J.WW||Ch.3
Pairing: Non-Idol Jeon Wonwoo x Afab!Reader WC: 11.2+k Rating: E 18+ MDNI; I will block underage accounts Genre: Non-idol AU, Enemy/Coworkers to lovers, Smut, fluff, slight angst Summary: Was this a new feeling, or something that was lying dormant until you finally let him in? Was it the same for him as well?
Tags: Coworkers to lovers, temp ldr, personal trainer/gamer Wonwoo, Personal Trainer Mingyu, Gamer Jeong Yunho, Receptionist reader, Wonwoo is so down bad for her, reader is just as bad but wont admit it, text conversation, Flirting, Smut (See smut tags), limited gym business knowledge and how gaming teams work. Nicknames: Dreamer, Brat, baby (Hers). Let me know if I am missing any Smut Tags: Phone sex, Sexting, exchange of suggestive/nude photos and videos, dirty talk with some detailed descriptions, slight dommy Wonwoo and bratty reader, mutual masturbation. Again let me know if I miss something.
A/N: This was meant to be out Sunday, but I had an AO3 notes style weekend. I'm not going to get into it, because thats not the point in this post. The story is. A/N2: I have to thank @gam3bo17 for beta reading this chapter and for putting up with my dramatic ass. Also Tumblr can fuck off with messing with the format. All text messages are text and bolded but Tumblr doesnt like to be consistent with that. So please keep that in mind and that Tumblr sucks for that.
Previous Chapter||Series Masterlist
“You have no idea how much we are missing you at work. With you gone, and Yujin finally fucking off, it’s got us running ragged.” Mingyu let out a sigh, the faint sounds of him typing on a keyboard could be heard through the speaker, “But I can’t deny that the turn around this place is already having, and finally starting to get this place staffed again.”
“I been telling you and your uncle that we needed to get rid of that guy. He scared off nearly every hire in the last two years, except for Dreamer.” Wonwoo hummed his answer, running his hand over his face as he tried to keep his mind focus on the conversation. Except his thoughts were completely elsewhere. On you, and the response that he had woken up to that morning. “I’m convinced that he was trying to sabotage the place because you had more power than he did.”
“Probably, but who cares now. He’s gone, and things are going to get better. I already have one front desk hired and have a few good candidates for one more. Going to go back over the budget and see if we can squeeze in another trainer. Help lighten the load some on you and me.” Wonwoo was only half listening at this point, his eyes watching the few people walking through the hotel lobby. Except he wasn’t actually watching any of them, nor was he paying attention to the half empty can of Monster in his hand. He started to let his thoughts wander more until he heard your name come from Mingyu but not was said about you.
“Sorry, Yungjae-hyung messaged and I missed that,” Wonwoo lied, hoping that this would cover his eagerness about hearing anything about you, “What were you saying about Dreamer now?”
“That she has been the best through all of this. With her helping out with clients, running the front desk, and helping me train Doyoung. I don’t think I could keep this place open without her, and I am happy she stuck around as long as she has,” Wonwoo couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face, sharing the younger man’s sentiment. Both men hadn’t been sure that you would stick around after graduation or if you were going to find your dream job. Forget about the gym, and him. But two years later, you were still there. You stuck around when other’s didn’t, and you didn’t know how valuable you were to the gym and Mingyu.
Nor did you realize how you still being at the gym meant the most to him.
“I’d been sure she was either going to find something else, or rage quit over you.”
“Why would she quit because of me? I am not that bad with her.” Wonwoo scoffed, the smile on his face quickly wiped and a frown replaced it. Sure, he was a bit of an ass, loving to push your buttons because he liked how cute you were when you had an attitude, but he never would push you to the point to quit.
“Just how you two are is all. You’re always saying and doing things to make her mad. I was worried it was only a matter of time until you pushed the wrong button and she would be gone.” Mingyu sighed through the phone, “Honestly, thought you were into her at one point, but then you had brought up Karina, not to mention that whole thing with you and Gemma. So, it turns out you just like fucking with the poor girl.”
“Karina has been with her boyfriend for the last three years, and I have not brought her up like that in years.” Wonwoo all but snapped into the phone. He was sick of people bringing up his ex, Karina, or him and Gemma.
It never failed whenever his love life was brought up the two women were the main subjects, and he hated it so much. Gemma and he had been friends since childhood, and aside from one weekend when he went as her date to her father’s wedding, neither of them looked or considered each other that way. Nor did they look or consider each other after either. They had been mature enough to accept the weekend for what it was and didn’t let it ruin their friendship.
While Karina and him finally admitted they were better apart than locked in the on and off again relationship since they were teens, everyone had been convinced they were always end game. They had been each other’s first loves, but that love was left in the past and not worth resurrecting. She had already moved on, and he was hoping he found his person in you.
“And there is nothing between me and Gemma, nor will there ever be. I have told you several times that weekend meant nothing to both of us, and I wouldn’t have done it had you told me about your feelings in the first place. You need to get your head out of your ass and just tell her how you feel already.” Wonwoo added with his voice laced with annoyance, only being aware of Mingyu’s feelings for his friend for a few months. The younger of the two had originally kept it from Wonwoo but wasn’t able to keep it inside after that weekend he went away with her.
Since then, Wonwoo had been trying to get him to admit his feelings to her.
“She doesn’t see me like that,” Mingyu answered flatly, and the older man could only roll his eyes. Before he could respond, the younger kept talking, “Well, I got to get going. It’s just me and Doyoung today, and I have Mrs. Jung coming in fifteen.”
“Good luck with that woman. Half the time I’m not sure if she’s trying to set me up with her niece or make me her own dirty little secret.” Wonwoo huffed a laugh, and this time didn’t hide the interest in his next words, “So, Dreamer is off today?”
“For the next two actually. She’s worked her last two so I wasn’t alone, but I couldn’t have her sacrificing any more of her days off now that we have another employee.” Mingyu had to of been walking through the gym, since Wonwoo could hear the music playing out of the gym speakers, and the clinking of the workout machines. “Hell, I had half the mind of closing the gym for the day just so we have a day off.”
“And when do you plan on having your day off?”
“I rescheduled my appointments on Thursday, so I’ll have the day off then. I feel like her and Doyoung got it enough that I can have the day off and just be on call if needed.” There was a hint of pride and relief to his voice, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
The two men wrapped up the call a few minutes later, with Wonwoo promising that he would call him later and he took that moment to breathe finally. He had spent nearly the entire day with his team, doing weird team building exercises and games with each other before Yungjae went over several different topics, ranging from don’t cuss or teamkill because their teammate sucked.
Talked of strategies to make the next tournament even better than this one. Things he had been through more times than he can count, and to him it was just mandatory interactions with the others on the team, with a few being over ten years younger than him. They were released from these activities right before Mingyu had called, and he only had a couple of hours before meeting for a team dinner with a few sponsors.
It was something that Wonwoo would much rather not attend, and rot in his room instead, but he was required to be there. He just didn’t have the social battery for something like that and rather spend it talking to you. At the mere thought of you, Wonwoo opened your message thread to finally answer your message, unsure when you would be awake since it was your day off.
Wonwoo: Are you sure about this? Wonwoo: Because if you are, just tell me when and I’m yours. 😏
Of course, he wasn’t expecting a response right away. It was still pretty early for you, while it was later afternoon for him, and he didn’t expect you to be up this early on your day off either.
“Figured you’d run to your room the moment that they had let us go.” Yunho’s voice pulled Wonwoo from his thoughts of you, and the sudden nerves that was bubbling in him for your pending conversation. He must have had strange look on his face when he looked toward his teammate, because Yunho’s face turned to concern. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Roommate called.” Wonwoo nodded finally taking a drink of his Monster, trying to ignore that it had long gone flat, and locked his phone. “Work talk is all.”
“Right, your other job. Personal trainer at your roommate’s uncle’s gym. You know I should book a session with you.” Yunho dropped down onto the lounge chair next to his, and Wonwoo just rolled his eyes. This earned a smirk from the younger man, “Are they burning down without you?”
“Almost. Finally got rid of that worthless manager of theirs, so it was only him and one other employee up until like a few days ago. Hired a new guy for the front desk, while our other front desk person was doing that and helping with Mingyu’s appointments.” Wonwoo answered honestly, and Yunho nodded as he listened carefully. “I mostly been working part time just to help out and to get me out of the house, but I’m going to go full time... at least until we get more staff.”
“Damn... wait, doesn’t that mean you aren’t going to be doing the next tournament?”
“Nope. Spoke to our team manager about it after the tournament the other night, going to go to the inactive roster for a while. He asked me to at least stay for this stuff, and then I am done until I am ready to come back.” It sounded bittersweet saying that, especially since Wonwoo had been on the team for years and was ranked one of the best in the world, but something had clicked the other night.
It was time to take a break and focus on his life back home.
“So, the FoxDungee is retiring?” Yunho asked, giving him a small but sad smile. Wonwoo couldn’t blame him, he was losing his favorite teammate.
“Never said I was retiring. FoxDungee is still going to be around. I still will be streaming, still able to own your ass in game, and plan to do tournaments again... just going to be focusing things back home.” He felt his phone vibrate in his hand, making his heart skip a beat as his eyes dropped to the screen. Only to see that it wasn’t a message from you.
“Does this happen to have something to do with your elsewhere interest?” The question came out like the younger man was putting the pieces together.
Wonwoo then said your name, feeling each syllable fall off his tongue while a smile form over his face. It felt nice to say, felt right in this this context before saying more, “And no... not exactly.”
“Not exactly? Hyung, I been patient, but you can’t leave me hanging like this anymore.”
“Not exactly, because nothing had really happened between us. Just some flirting and back and forth, but nothing further than that.” Wonwoo pursed his lips before continuing, “I think that’s changing, but mostly just testing the waters. She can be a bit of a wild card, and I can annoy her easily.”
“Could I be witnessing you falling in love?” Yunho chuckled as Wonwoo show him a look, but it was all over the younger’s face that he was happy for him. Like his friends back home, Yunho only ever wanted the best for him. Outside of his friend group, he was someone Wonwoo could say was a close friend, “While I’m happy for you, I am pretty bummed that I am losing my exploring buddy.”
“You mean your photographer,” Wonwoo corrected, and this only earned more laughter.
“You caught me.” The younger than stood from his seat, “Hey, I am going to grab me something to eat to hold me over until dinner. You want to come? I’ll buy.”
Wonwoo sat there for a moment, leaning more toward declining the offer and just go to his room, but this was going to be one of the last times they would be doing this together for a while. Who knew when he and Yunho would have another chance to hang out like this.
“Sure, why not.” He said instead, standing. He slipped his phone into his pocket and finished the flat energy drink in the process, “But I’m disappearing to my room as soon as we are back, and you aren’t going to hear from me until dinner.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
It was just after one in the afternoon when you woke up, stretching your sheet tangled limps sleepily before snuffling back into the comfortable bed. Ready for sleep to take you for a bit longer after staying up until the early hours looking into FoxDungee, falling asleep to his voice while watching an old stream of his. Now you were paying for it, with you just wanting to sleep the day away.
But your body was ready to wake up.
Reaching your hand out from under the soft comforter for your phone, only to find it had somehow tucked under you as you slept. With only one eye open, you scrolled through the countless notifications that were waiting for you. Notifications from social media, a message from your sister, and a long message from Amelia apologizing for everything while promising to be a better roommate. She understood your frustrations in all this and wanted to talk to you more about this.
Then you landed on messages from Wonwoo.
Wonwoo: Are you sure about this? Wonwoo: Because if you are, just tell me when and I’m yours. 😏
You open both eyes to reread the message and focusing on the ‘I’m yours’ part. Closing your messages, you looked up what time it was where he was before you were back in them responding. You could feel warmth rushing through you from a mixture of panic, anticipation, nervousness, and wonder.
You were really going to be doing this.
You: Sorry, I just woke up. It’s my day off and I was up later than I should have been You: And I am definitely sure about this. You: I am free for the rest of the day. No plans. Just vibes.
Wonwoo’s response came quick.
Wonwoo: Hope you weren’t staying up for me. heh 😏 Wonwoo: I am at a team dinner thing, but I think I been here long enough to make my managers happy. Wonwoo: Give me about ten minutes to make an excuse and get back to my room.
You roll your eyes, a wide smile already forming over your lips, feeling special that he was willing to leave whatever he was attending just to talk to you. He was very clearly an introvert, so you may also be an excuse to go be one, but he was wanting to go be one with you.
You: You don’t have to leave whatever it is for this. I am sure it’s going to be a boring conversation. 😅 You: And I was up late watching stuff. Wonwoo: I been trying to leave for the last hour, and it will be anything BUT boring. Wonwoo: And what kind of stuff? Porn? 😏
You didn’t even read the second teasing message, as your focus was on the other message. Anything but boring. You would have thought that was going to be a given, but it still sent a rush through you.
How were you going to do this anyways? Was it going to be all through text, with a mixture of videos and photos sent? Was he going to call or maybe even video call you? Was the conversation actually going to happen, or were you really just going to beat around the bush with nothing happening?
You assumed enough that he was going to at least touch himself, but would he be expecting you to? Honestly, you doubted that you would be able to resist yourself if he was, because just the idea alone made you want to thinking about it.
What was this going to mean for the two of you? What’s going to happen after?
Your head’s still swirling with how deep you had found yourself in this, while the rest of your body was coming alive with life. How him being gone just over two weeks changed everything for you. You went from wanting him to leave you alone to greedily craving his attention, his responses, his gaze, and more than you were willing to admit.
Was this a new feeling, or something that was lying dormant until you finally let him in? Was it the same for him as well?
Getting up, you hurried to the bathroom to pee and do a quick once over in the mirror in case there was a video call or you sent anything yourself. Your face was still puffy from sleep, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before since you often came to work half awake and barefaced, but something made you worry. Only you didn’t want to overdo it, so you made sure that your hair didn’t look like you had bedhead and dabbed some glossy balm on your lips.
Getting back onto the bed, you had just thrown the blankets back over you when his messages came in.
Wonwoo: Sorry about that. I’m back in my room now. Wonwoo: You home alone?
His question burned your cheeks, and your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. Of course, he didn’t know you weren’t home, and instead laying in your own hotel bed. Opening your back facing camera, you took a quick shot of the room; one that included your middle finger. He had his peace signs and thumbs up, and you have your middle finger and tongue.
Turning the camera to face you, you took another photo and your tongue sticking out. With the way you were laying, your hair was splayed over the pillows, and your top giving just enough cleavage.
You knew what it suggested, it was obvious what this was, and you were curious on his reaction to your selfie. Putting the two photos together in the same message, you added a caption.
You: Nope, needed to have two nights of peace and got a hotel room. You: And I rather not discuss that further right now.
You watched as the messages were read, then the typing bubble appeared before it disappeared again. It did this several times, before there was nothing for a few minutes. With your thumb nail between your teeth, you suddenly realized that sending the selfie was too much, and maybe you had misread things. Maybe he was only joking about all this.
Then the response came in.
Wonwoo: Fuck. Wonwoo: I don’t think you know what you do to me.
Releasing your nail, you replace it with the tip of your tongue as you go to reply. You squirmed a little under the blanket, your thighs rubbing together to get some kind of relief from the dampness forming between them. The statement was straightforward, and clear, but you had to poke a little more.
He seemed to like it when you were a little difficult.
You: Well, you would be correct with that. 🤔 I don’t know what I do to you. You: Maybe if you told me, I would.
You let out a giggle when the bubbles came up and his response was quick.
Wonwoo: We will need to visit what I can do about that little attitude of yours later, but I think its pretty clear here. You drive me crazy. You: Oh, it's simple about my attitude. You just accept and deal with it 😏 You: Also, you should probably go get checked if you’re crazy. Wonwoo: Brat. You: I thought I was Dreamer. Wonwoo: Oh, you are, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a brat.
Licking your lips, your fingers move quickly over the screen.
You: While I proudly do claim the title of brat. You: I think I like it when you call me Dreamer more. Wonwoo: I’ll call you Dreamer when you’re being good for me. Wonwoo: though I wouldn’t mind calling you a few other names. Wonwoo: Preferably while I have you begging me for relief.
Your thighs press harder together reading this, already so easily effected by his words and this was only the beginning. You wondered if you slipped your hand into your shorts, feel just how wet you would already be for him.
God, you needed to slow down. This conversation was meant to be about him and ‘defending his honor’. A bullshit excuse for you both to do this.
You: I think we’re getting off topic here. You: I think the whole point of this is to know if you’re a pro at jerking off. Wonwoo: Oh, I am. I will gladly demonstrate for you. Wonwoo: But if I am, I won’t be able to not think about how easily I can make you cover me if I could touch you instead. You: Who says I can do that? Wonwoo: Who says you cant?
As you were thinking of your response, Wonwoo sent you more messages.
Wonwoo: Not to suddenly put the brakes on this, but maybe we should figure out what is happening here. Wonwoo: I don’t want to assume things and then be completely wrong.
While you were disappointed that he switched up like he did, you were also relieved since it gave you a moment of relief. Let you catch your bearings since things were moving quickly.
You: Nice timing after you were quite eager to tell me that you can make me squirt, or how you want to find out how to deal with my attitude. 😂 You: I don’t think you assumed anything wrong. I think we both know exactly what is happening here. Wonwoo: Good. Wonwoo: Don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You: I have no issue saying if anything makes me uncomfortable You: Have I said anything about being uncomfortable?
You smirked to yourself as the text bubbles came up and then disappeared. You did have him there, and it brought another rush through you. Confidence since it felt that you held the power here, and anticipation for his response.
Wonwoo: Then would you be uncomfortable if I called you? You: Do you miss my voice that much? Wonwoo: You honestly have no idea. You: Good. You: Let’s keep texting for now. Wonwoo: Brat, but anything you want. Wonwoo: Okay with photos and videos?
It took you a moment to respond, now chewing on your lip before your fingers moved over the screen.
You: I’m okay with them if you are. You: sending and receiving that is. Wonwoo: Normally, I’m not into sending any myself. Wonwoo: But with you, I can make exceptions. I trust you that you wouldn’t share them. You: Damn, and here I was making you an OnlyFans 😜 You: Of course, I won’t share. You: As long as you don’t share mine. Wonwoo: Anything you send are for my eyes only. You’re for my eyes only.
You could see the possessive tone in those words, and you couldn’t deny that you liked it. Pinching your tongue between your teeth, you respond.
You: Send me one now then. Wonwoo: I will do it but be careful with that bossy attitude. Wonwoo: I may not be there to deal with it, but I will be soon enough.
The photo came in a few moments later, and it only made the wet feeling between your legs worsen. It was a mirror selfie. Wonwoo was sitting in a lounge chair, grey sweats, legs spread, no shirt, but this time his hair was styled out of his face, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses. Giving you a good view of his sharp eyes, staring intently into the mirror. One hand holding the phone, while the other rested over the front of his sweats.
Forcing your eyes to move from his intense stare to that hand. It was just resting there, not holding onto anything, but it didn’t hide the fact he was already hard under that hand and fabric. Your mouth watered a little at what he had under there, unable to get the curiosity of what it actually looked like once pulled out from your thoughts. Not since he sent that first photo, and you figured out quickly he was naked.
Wonwoo: Is this what you wanted? You: Exactly what I wanted, but question. Wonwoo: I feel like I am going to regret this, but yes? You: Were you able to see when you took that? Wonwoo: Rich coming from someone who also needs glasses. Wonwoo: I’ll remember this, I hope you know that. You: Good. You: Bring it then.
There wasn’t a response right away, while you laid there feeling please with yourself. After a minute, the text bubble came up, and his message came through.
Wonwoo: You really know how to push my buttons, don’t you? You: Always, I think you like it when I do though. You: But I can also say the same about you. Wonwoo: Took you long enough to notice. Thought I was going to have to spell it out in crayon or something. You: Rude. Wonwoo: You like it though. You: Who says I do? Wonwoo: You haven’t stopped messaging me since I been gone. Wonwoo: Moth to a flame you are. You: You’re 100% the moth, and I am the flame. Wonwoo: Maybe I am. Wonwoo: Send me something in return?
A soft sigh left your lips, because you were expecting him to ask. He sent you something with no issues himself, but you didn’t know what you wanted to send back. A photo like his, or maybe a video of you just sticking your tongue at him? Something that would definitely get this conversation moving quicker.
Your head was already swimming with different things you could say to him, or he could say to you. If there had been any doubt that you were going to touch yourself or not, it would have been cleared up now. You knew you could feel yourself already soaked through your underwear and pajama shorts, and just from the little the two of you said and the photo he sent, you’d be a fool to not be desperate for relief.
Would he also be desperate too?
Feeling bold, you opened the phone camera and switched it to video; deciding to tease a bit. Rolling onto your back, you pushed the blanket halfway down your thighs, you checked the angle before hitting record. You made sure that your thighs could be seen pressing together, while your hand slowly pushes up your pajama tank, giving him a glimpse of your stomach.
Gingerly you ran the tips of your fingers over the soft flesh, grazing the waistband of your shorts. Then you moved the camera up slowly, letting it catch the way your tank was now bunched right under your breasts, before reaching your face. Where you stuck your tongue out at the device.
Ending the video, you watched it back only to make sure you caught what you wanted before sending it off. Not leaving room to fuss over it, only for you to get shy and rethink what you were doing. You didn’t add any caption, not needing to since the video was enough. Especially when his message came through.
Wonwoo: You beautiful little tease. Wonwoo: I bet you are having fun aren’t you? Wonwoo: You like finding new ways to push my buttons don’t you? You: It goes both ways. You push mine, so why can’t I push yours? You: Got to see how much you can take. Wonwoo: I wouldn’t mind knowing how much you can take too.
This statement made your thoughts run wild, with images of Wonwoo and you swirling. Only adding to the ache that you tried to get relief, squeezing and moving your thighs. There would be no doubt now, if you were to touch yourself, not only the fabric would be ruined, your fingers would shine with your slick arousal.
You: I’d say I can take A LOT. You: Doubt you would be able to make me tap out. Might make me more insatiable. Wonwoo: Brat Wonwoo: I am confident I can make you tap out from just my hands alone. You: I am a brat again? And here I was admitting that I was curious too. Wonwoo: You’re always a brat, but it’s what I like about you. Wonwoo: I also don’t back down from a challenge. If you were here, I’d show you. You: How about you still show me? You: I would say it’s your turn after all. Wonwoo: Is it my turn? You: Yup! Wonwoo: And what would you like to see for ‘my turn’? You: Well, you keep talking about how talented your hands are. Wonwoo: I am not one of the best in my field without them. You: Then show me them. Wonwoo: Say please at least. You: And if I don’t? Wonwoo: Then I say goodnight here. You: No! You aren’t going to do that to me. 😔 You: Pppplllllleeeeaaaaassssseeee.
The photo came in moments later.
It was the hand that was resting in his lap, and you were able to see the veins over the back of the hand, but your eyes were on thick fingers. The idea of those digits touching your skin, leaving imprints on it before slipping between your slick folds was intoxicating to you, and again it took everything in you not to slip your own hand into your shorts. Pretend that your fingers were his.
The words exchanged were enough to start a stir, and the photos were meant to be a push, mainly for him, but here you were being the one becoming needy. Just this exchange was enough for you, and this was something you wouldn’t be able to process until much later. Your gaze finally moving past his hands to the very obvious bulge under his sweats. His hard cock pressing and restrained under the fabric, begging to be free.
“Fucking hell,” You breathed out loud, forcing your hand to move up your body instead of down and cupped one of your covered breasts gently. Your nipple hard, pressing against the soft material of your top, and the friction only amplified when you gently kneaded at the soft skin.
You were so focused on the photo while caressing your breasts that you had forgotten to answer him back.
Wonwoo: You there? Wonwoo: Don’t tell me you’re already tapping out on me.
This comment made your eyes roll, as you respond.
You: Of course, I haven’t tapped out. Haven’t even gotten started. You: I can’t deny you have really nice hands though. You: I think they would look better on me though. Wonwoo: How about you show me where you want them?
It was your turn. It seemed silly doing this back and forth, but it was actually thrilling for you. It felt like foreplay and you were undressing for each other. Though he was already ahead of you, with only his sweats and whatever underwear he was wearing (if he was wearing any), so it was now your turn to shed something. It was only fair.
Setting the phone down next to you, you sit up to slip off your top and grabbed the device again. Opening up the camera, you adjusted yourself so that your neck was visible along with your breasts in the shot; letting them fall naturally instead of pushing them together for effect. You snap the photo and sent it off without hesitation.
You: Right here may be a good start. Wonwoo: Fuck, you have beautiful tits. Wonwoo: Look perfect for my hands, bet they’ll fit so well in my palm. Wonwoo: I also had a feeling you would be the type to like to be choked. You: Maybe a little. Wonwoo: Noted. Wonwoo: Is there anywhere else? You: Nice try, sweetie. You: It’s your turn.
It had taken him a few minutes to respond to you, but when the message came through, your eyes widened to see that it was a video as well. It didn’t show his face, starting at his chest, thick pecs on display, before slowly panning it down his body down to his sweats. There his hand was gently gripping at his hard cock through the fabric, giving you a better idea of just how big he was. Tip peaking under the waistband, with precum already leaking and smearing onto his abdomen.
Fuck did it make your mouth water.
Wonwoo: I wouldn’t mind your hands here myself. You: Just my hands? Wonwoo: I think we are getting there. Wonwoo: How about you be good for me and show me where else you want my hands.
You thought for a moment. There was several places that you wanted him to touch you, your just wanted his hands all over you. In your hair, cupping your face as he kisses you senseless, resting on your throat, on your breasts, your hips, thighs, and legs. Grasping at your hand as he fucks you and keep you anchored to the world while he takes you to the stars.
You wanted him to touch your back, run those fingers down your spine, until they cup your ass. And most of all, you wanted his hand touching your cunt and fuck you with them.
You could easily do what he did, move a chair in front of the mirror. Prop yourself so he could see your whole body, but where was the fun in that? It was a given that you would want him to touch you in more places than this. It was a given, he would want you to touch him in more places than what he showed you.
No, a whole body shot wasn’t going to cut it this time since it only stated the obvious. But what parts did you want to convey the most.
You quickly narrowed it down to your thighs, ass, and your soaked cunt. You didn’t intend to take your shorts off yet, not wanting to send him a full nude yet, so how were you going to do it? Maybe you could bend over in front of the hotel mirror, show off everything at once. Your thighs, ass, and how ruined your clothes were between your legs.
But did you really want to get out of the comforts of the bed just to snap a photo only to jump right back in?
Sexting was hard.
Time was ticking, and you had to decide quicker than you were. Opening the camera once more, you snapped a photo of your hips and thighs pressed together. Moving your glasses that you left on the empty side of the bed, you rolled onto your stomach and lifted your hips up. It was awkward trying to angle the phone just right, but you still managed to get a good shot of your lower back, and the curve of your ass. One that made you smirk proudly.
Rolling back onto your back, you adjusted yourself to lay flat for the final photo. Parting your thighs just enough to see the way the soaked fabrics clung to you, the shine of arousal illuminating by the afternoon sun coming though the window. It would be enough to make him ‘crazy’ and wanting to see more.
You: Hmmm. See, I have three photos of a few different spots. You: Should I send them all, or one by one? Wonwoo: Send them however you want. Wonwoo: Though I am tempted to call you, I want to hear you. You: But I am not doing anything to make any noises. Wonwoo: Not yet. Wonwoo: Your move, Dreamer.
You sent the photo of your hips and thighs.
Wonwoo: If only I was there, my hands would be all over those. Wonwoo: You sending them one by one, I take it?
You didn’t answer, you just sent the next one. Which was you on your stomach and your ass in the air. His response was slower this time.
Wonwoo: You are making me very curious one what the last photo could be. You: Maybe I should make you wait for that one then. Wonwoo: And here I was about to tell you that you are being such a good girl for me. You: I still am a very good girl. You: It’s your turn. Wonwoo: I see how it is. Wonwoo: What do you want next from me? You: I want to see your cock. You: but I am not showing anything in the photos, so I doubt it would be fair. Wonwoo: Dreamer, you don’t have to show me anything that you’re uncomfortable with. Just like I won’t show what I am not comfortable with. Wonwoo: It’s only fair. I meant, you gave me a photo with your ass in the air. Do you expect me to send you one of mine? You: I mean... Wonwoo: haha. You can see that later if you ask nicely. Wonwoo: Remember, I reward good behavior and punish the bad. Wonwoo: How I do that, will be up to your behavior. You: Could I see your cock, please? Wonwoo: Such a good girl.
The photo came in moments later, and your cunt clenched around nothing at the sight. Thicker than it looked under the grey material, straining and long enough to reach places that will take your breath away. Precum smearing over the tip and dripping down to where his hand was holding the thick member.
It left you nearly drooling as much as it sent a rush through you to your soaked cunt. You never hated this distance from him as you much as you were right then, wishing that he was there with you. To touch you, to taste you, to feel you stretch around him until you were fuller than you’ve ever been.
Who would have thought you would get to this point with him, your annoying coworker. Seeking him out when this should have been seen as a vacation from his constant poking at you. Maybe you were the moth and he was the flame.
Either way, you wanted him there with you and not across the world. You didn’t want to just see him through photos anymore, you didn’t want to just talk to him through text. You wanted him there with you. You missed his annoying presence, and you were now missing parts that hadn’t originally crossed your mind, seen, or even want to touched before.
You felt like your pictures were nothing compared that, or would it even convey how wet you were now after seeing his cock. He was fine with whatever you sent, and he made it clear for you to send what is comfortable, so there was no pressure to top it, or doubt anything.
But you weren’t going to back down from a challenge.
After a quick moment of thinking, you sat your phone down next to you to slip off your shorts, leaving you in a pair red hipster. The soaked fabric sticking to your cunt, forming perfectly to it, and a slight shine that coated all over your upper thighs.
Grabbing your phone once more, you were able to angle it to catch it all for him, showing him just how much this was turning you on, how much he was turning you on. How easily you ended up folding for him when you took the time to get to know him.
Sending off the photo, you added a caption.
You: Retook the last one for you. You: It didn’t show you EXACTLY how I am right now. Wonwoo: You have no idea how gorgeous I think you are. Wonwoo: Everything about you is. You: Even my attitude? Wonwoo: Okay, everything but the attitude, but that can be fucked out of you. You: Your turn. Wonwoo: Could you send me one more photo before I do? Wonwoo: Send me a photo of your face, with your glasses on. You: Why? Wonwoo: Because I like it when you are wearing them. You: But you aren’t in them. Wonwoo: One photo and you already accusing me of living the glasses free lifestyle. Wonwoo: I actually wore a very nice pair for the team dinner I’d have you know.
You thought for a moment to reveal that you knew what he did, that you knew what kind of team he was part of, but you chose against it with the worry that you would ruin the moment.
You: Say please? Wonwoo: Please, Dreamer.
Honestly, you had already grabbed your glasses when you asked why, slipping them on while he responded. Turning the camera toward your face, you puckered your lips in a kiss movement and snapped the photo. Before you decided to retake it with your middle finger, you sent it off.
Wonwoo: That’s my good girl. You: I could really get use to you calling me that.
The call came in before you could say anything else. It just a phone call, not a video call, and all you could do was gape at his name with wide eyes and mouth dropped open. You thought it would have been you to initiate the called, but instead he took you by surprise by doing it instead.
A moment of panic almost caused you to hit decline, but you managed to hit accept instead.
“Hello?” You basically whispered into the receiver, pressing the phone to your ear, while your heart felt like it was going to race out of your chest.
“I take it you didn’t expect me to call, did you?” There was a chuckle in his voice, deep tones washing over you in the form of shivers. Husky, and heavy with arousal.
“No, I didn’t.” You answered honestly, words sounding airy and breathless. Another chuckle met your ear, while your thumbnail was pressed between your teeth. “Didn’t take you for the type to like to talk on the phone.”
“I’m not.” It was his turn to answer honestly, there was a sigh to his voice, and it made you wonder if he was already touching himself. “But I make exceptions for certain people.”
“Some people?”
“Some.” He confirmed voice a little clearer, and part of you felt disappointed. Maybe you were just too eager to hear him. “You always have been an exception, you know. You just never took it.”
“I’m not too sure if you would have liked my phone calls before this.” You tease, and you swear you could listen to him chuckle like that forever.
“Maybe,” Wonwoo agreed, you could hear the smile in his voice as he continued to speak, “Now you know.”
“I do...” There was a small silence, both of you seemingly trying to find the right words. Finally you were the one who spoke up again, “What made you want to call me now?”
“Because I wanted to hear your when you start touching yourself. I just know you make the prettiest of noises,” The confidence that fueled his forwardness was doing something to you inside, liking the way he was talking to you. “And because I wanted to hear your voice after not being able to hear it while I been gone.”
You didn’t answer right away, bottom lip between your teeth to stop you from grinning like an idiot, your cheeks warming. You had to admit that you missed hearing his voice as much as you did, but there was a lot of about that you ended up missing about Wonwoo. That his absence felt different this time, with him finally saying the right words to get you to notice and even care.
“Who says I’m going to touch myself? Or better yet, who says I wasn’t already touching myself?” You ask, taking this as a chance to not admit that you actually wanted to admit. That you wanted to hear his voice again too, talking right to you and not through an old stream you found of his online. Instead, you kept your voice light and playful, evening adding a fake moan while you were at it, “You aren’t touching yourself yet?”
“That was the fakest moan I’ve ever heard.” Wonwoo called you out instantly, and you did an overexaggerated gasp, which made him laugh. “And I’m not, just was getting more comfortable on my bed. That chair is not comfortable at all.”
“Bold of you to assume that was fake.” You accuse, though you didn’t have a leg to stand on here. It was a fake moan, a very fake one, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to argue, “How do you know I don’t sound like that all the time?”
“Probably when you aren’t wanting to bruise some poor guy’s ego, but that wouldn’t be the sounds you’d make with me.” He saw through you so easily, while some other guy probably would’ve believed you. “We don’t have to talk on the phone. We can go back to texting if it makes you more comfortable.”
“What makes you think I want to go back to texting?” Keeping up with your little act, you jutted out your lower lip so that a pout could be heard in your voice. “I figured this was where we were heading anyways... or a video call.”
“A video call huh? Hoping for a bit of a show? Because I could video call you if that’s what you rather have,” There had been a hum to his voice, with his deep tones rushing over you. Making the idea of watching him cum good enough to almost get your to agree. Only, you weren’t sure if you were ready for him to see you like that, through a screen.
“Some things should be left as a surprise.” You cooed, trying to add a sultriness to your tone as you declined, letting your fingers run absentmindedly over your stomach. Tracing simple patterns up to your breasts then back down. Stopping right below your belly button, and no further.
“Anything you want, Dreamer.” A heartbeat of silence followed, with the only thing you could hear was his soft breathing. While you tried to find the words to keep this going.
Boy, it seemed like you both sucked at this.
“Sorry, I realized that I am not very good at this kind of thing,” You let out an awkward giggle, “I don’t think I remember the last time that I actually did this with someone.”
“I’m not very good at this either. So, don’t feel bad.”
“You said you didn’t know how to flirt, and you appear to be flirting just fine.” You challenge, picturing the smirk on his lips when he let out a soft huff. “I am finding it hard to believe that you aren’t good at this too.”
“I’m telling the truth. It’s been a few years since I did anything like this. This isn’t exactly my thing.” He sounded honest, and you found yourself believing him, “but I am probably better at this than you are.”
“Rude.”
“I only am calling it the way I see it.” Silence. “We don’t have to do this, Dreamer. We can talk about anything else.”
“I want too though.” You pout, “I’m just... I can’t believe that this is happening.”
“I mean, I can’t really either, but why do you say that?” The question didn’t actually need an answer. It was obvious to both of you. You two barely was able to stand each other just over two weeks earlier, and now you were laying in bed in nothing but your underwear and your glasses. Phone pressed against your ear with an equally, if not more, undressed Wonwoo on the other end.
Talking to each other in a way that would have made you scoff in disgust weeks earlier.
“I mean, you and me don’t… didn’t… like each other.” You answer anyways, and this time the silence was different on the other end. It was tense.
“Did you really feel like I didn’t like you?” He asked finally, that voice that you were just enjoying moments ago no longer heavy with need, but with guilt. You start to grab for a blanket to cover yourself, as if he were there then. Looking through you with those eyes you now dreamt of.
“You haven’t exactly been the friendliest.” You admit, “You always seemed to have something to say to me, always had something to pick on. I didn’t know what I did to make you not like me. So, I just gave back your energy.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong to make me not like you, because I didn’t.” He answered honestly, “I just wanted to give you a bit of a hard time because you were cute when you got a little annoyed. I guess I liked it too much and went to far, but it wasn’t my intentions.”
“You were a dick, and we both know that’s not how I take those,” You giggled at these words, which earned a soft laugh from him as well.
“I’m sorry, Dreamer. Told you I sucked at flirting,” Wonwoo then let out a low groan, “Fuck, this was turning into a soft moment, and now all I can think about is you taking my dick.”
“Smooth.”
“I can be at times.” Scoffing, “I probably sound like a dick now.”
“You’re a dick all the time,” You tease. Resuming your tracing over your stomach, “I’m just kidding.”
“Enjoy this now, baby.” The way his voice dropped low made your inner muscles squeeze. “I might have to do something when I am back about that mouth.”
“Like what?”
“You do have a very spankable ass.”
“You’ll have to catch me first.”
“Oh, I will. You’re not that fast, I seen you run. I’d still chase you though, if you wanted. Chase you anywhere.”
“First, rude again. How about we talk about how you run? Second, not creepy sounding at all,” You roll your eyes as you say this, but your fingers were barely brushing under the waistband of your underwear. “But I kind of like it.”
“I like you.”
It was a simple statement, flirty, but what it did to you inside was not as simple. It sparked something in your brain and brought back the feeling blooming in your chest tenfold, your heart beginning to race quicker. They weren’t just nice to hear, they were honest, and real. The way he said them sounded like he didn’t want to leave any room for you to think otherwise again, with hints of relief now that it was out in the open.
You were starting to like him too, you did like him, but you weren’t going to admit it. Not yet.
“So, my ass is spankable?” You ask instead, a small smile playing on your face, and before he could answer, you added, “Do you think about spanking it often?”
“That sounds like a loaded question.”
“Or a question to get us back in the right direction.” You shrug, and he simply hummed, not providing you with words, “I am taking your silence as a yes?”
“I was intending for you to.” Wonwoo answered, “But to answer your question, I have actually. Sometimes when you were being a little feistier than usual, sometimes it’s because your ass looks good in those leggings you wear to work, or sometimes because I feel like it.”
“Honestly, can’t really blame you with the leggings. They do make my ass look good.” There was a giggle to your voice, while his laugh was more like a breath out of his nose.
“You like being spanked?”
“I like a lot of things,” You tell him, your voice dropping lower while moving your hand from under the waistband of your underwear to your breasts, “I like spanking, I like dirty talk, I like sex.” Gently you grasped your breasts, brushing your fingers over your hardened nipples. You let out a soft sigh, “I like that you are on the phone with me right now while I play with my breasts.”
“Fuck…” He groans softly at the sound of that, “You know for someone claiming they aren’t good at phone sex. You are pretty damn good at this.”
“I’m terrible at it, but I thought you might like to hear that.” You answer, brushing over your hardened peaks again, teasing them between your fingers, while another sigh left your lips. “I am not even sure I am doing this right.”
“You’re not sure if you’re touching yourself right? Pretty straight forward really,” There was a chuckle to Wonwoo’s words. A low rumble that washed over you and made your thighs tense. “Do you need me to tell you what to do?”
“Shut up, I meant phone sex, you ass.” You mumbled, “I know how to touch myself…”
“But…”
“Maybe tell me anyways?” You ask sweetly, and you could practically see him smiling on the other end.
“So, you want me to tell you what to do, huh?”
“Mmhmm,” You answer, nodding your head like he could see you.
“Use your words, Dreamer.” He spoke calmly, “So once more. You want me to tell you what do to, huh?”
“Yes.” And with that, you had given over some control to him. “I want you to tell me what to do.”
“Hmm. I love how good you are being right now.” There was some rustling like he was moving to get more comfortable. “Tell me at any time if you want to stop, and we stop. You understand?”
“I do,” You agree.
“Who knew you would be such a good listener.” The rustling on his end quieted down, “You said you are playing with your breasts?”
“Well, one of them. I only have two hands, and one is holding my phone.”
“Stop touching yourself,” The command came out clear, making you stop massaging the fatty flesh, your eyes widen that you were listening.
“Why?”
“You told me to tell you what to do, that includes when and when you don’t touch yourself. Talking back will make us stop until you learn.” There was a smirk to his voice, and you narrow your eyes toward the phone. Trying to ignore the way you clenched around nothing and started aching to be touched. “Do you understand me?”
“You like it when I talk back though,” You counter.
“That is true, but I think I like it better when you listen to me. We both get something out of this when you listen. Understand and be good for me?”
“I do,” You knew that you could have just not listened, you could have continued to touch your breasts, be quiet about it. Or if you wanted to be a brat, risking him possibly hanging up on him, and make a show of this. Instead you conceded and listened.
You did tell him what you wanted, and he was delivering it. Giving you exactly what you wanted.
“See, I knew you would agree with me. Go ahead and keep going,” He hummed, “Touch them how you would like me to, and tell me.”
“I…uh…I like them played with?” You stammer out shyly, feeling awkward saying anything aloud. Situating yourself a little better on the bed, you were able to keep the phone pressed to your ear and free up both your hands. Letting you give both breasts attention, going back a little to teasing your sensitive buds. You let out a soft sigh. “My…my nipples can get really sensitive, but I don’t mind a little overstimulating. Pinching them,” You did just that, letting out a soft moan, “maybe a little pulling at them,” Your back arched into your own touch, and nearly made the phone slip, “I want your mouth on them.”
“Do you, now?” He asked softly, the hitch in his voice caught your attention, like he was holding back a moan. He was enjoying this, and it helped ease the awkward feeling, while also having you be sure he was touching himself too. It only made you want to slip a hand between your legs more, “Want me to suck on them? Run my tongue over your pretty little nipples? Bite at them?”
“Fuck, yes.” You nod quickly like he could see you.
“You like it when marks are left?”
“Depends,” Your hand itched to move further down, especially now that you were hearing quiet moans through his breath. You itched to touch yourself, let yourself feel just how wet you were down there. Wonwoo did not appear to be vocal about his moans, but the soft sounds that you were hearing were like music to your ears. “Or the person.”
“Could I be that person?” You were sure that the question was meant just to be dirty talk, part of the exchange of what you wanted from each other. To help you both touch yourselves to the sounds of each other’s heightened breathing and moans. It shouldn’t mean anything other than under a horny haze.
But why did it feel like there was more meaning behind it? Why did you hope so much for that meaning as much as the dirty talk.
“Yes,” The word fell from your lips before you were fully able to process, hand inching down your stomach. This earned a satisfied hum from him, those quiet moans raising ever so slightly before dropping back down.
“Good, I want you to remember me every time you look in the mirror.” Your hand inched lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, a whimper leaving your lips at his words. His deep tones wrapping around you before dripping right through you. The ache growing, “That you’re mine.”
“All yours,” This was only dirty talk, your whimpers and his breathing mixing together, not making confessions in the heat of the moment. You ignored the prickling feeling in the back of your mind, the words carrying so much more meaning that what they were at face value.
Were more than face value.
He didn’t really mean that he wanted to leave reminders of him in your skin, so you could remember that you were his. That there was so much confidence behind it, that it was believable.
“Are you still touching your breasts?” He breathed out.
“Am I going to get in trouble if I say no?”
“You are correct. Stop.” His command got you quietly cursing to yourself, with your hand resting just below your belly button. Desperate to move further down to touch yourself. “Did I tell you got go further?”
“No,” You answer with a pout, not bothering to hide the little whine to your voice because this wasn’t fair. You knew he was stroking his cock from the way his voice would waiver and the quick intakes of breath. The image of it was already burned into your memories and probably will never forget it. “But…”
“No buts Dreamer.”
“You’re touching yourself!” The outburst came out high pitch, heavy with the pout that formed. Balling your in hand into a fist, you were tempted to hang up on him and just take care of yourself. “Why can’t I touch myself?”
“I stopped when I told you to stop.”
“Liar.”
“Should we stop all together?” The chuckle filtered through the receiver felt more like a taunt. Like he knew that you were putty to him and at his whim, but he also had no issue stopping and leaving you both to suffer. Or at least on your own.
“No…” You felt your body slouch, knowing that he had you just how he wanted, “I don’t want to stop.”
“Good, because I don’t want to either. Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Say it correctly.” You didn’t answer right away, too caught up in how talkative and bossy he was. He wanted you to behave while daring you to act out in the same breath. It was a game, another one of your games, and one that left you a dripping mess for him.
Wishing he wasn’t worlds away.
“I promise I will be good,” You answer, your voice coming out almost pathetic. How did he manage to get you this way? How did he manage to twist this on you? You were the one who was wanting to not just hear him but join him too. “Please Wonwoo…”
Just how weak were you really for this man?
“Fuck,” The word came out as a groan, “Saying my name like that won’t always get your way, but I’m too horny to keep fighting you. So, you win.”
“I win, huh?”
“Don’t make me take that back,” He teased, “You want to touch yourself, baby?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Go ahead.” His voice dropped low, heavy and dripping with desire for you, “I want you to cum with me.”
You didn’t need to be told twice, a hand slipping under the completely drenched underwear, pulling it from your body, and the tips of your fingers brushing against the top of your folds. It nearly took your breath at just how soaked you were, coating your fingertips with your arousal. It only made your cunt clench again at the tease, aching to be touched for Wonwoo instead of you.
“Wonwoo…” You whimper, moving your fingers to your clit, circling and teasing it. You could hear his breathing started to grow heavier, quicker.
“Yeah, baby?” A wave of pleasure doused you when he called you that, his breathing giving away his own pleasure. The image you had in your head was nothing compared to witnessing him touch himself.
“Need you here…” You beg, like saying it was going to work and he magically appears.
“Yeah? Need me there to touch you instead?” This time he accepted where you could only mumble your yes, your fingers continuing to circle around your clit, dipping lower to tease your entrance. Making you whimper, “Tell me what you’re doing. What you’re thinking about?”
“You… I am thinking about you.” You gasp out, the former question not processing as quick as the latter. “I am…” You spread your legs further, opening yourself up like you would have for him. Wishing desperately for him to be there, his hands on you. Touching you, teasing you. Letting him leave reminders of him in your skin and fuck you over and over.
You hated that he was a world away from you, unable to finish your sentence. Your eyes closed tight, plunging your fingers into your needy hole. Gummy walls squeezing your fingers eagerly.
Wonwoo was lost in his own pleasure on the other side, not pressing you on what you were doing. His mind somewhere else than having control, also wishing more than anything he was with you. Not so far.
“Wish I was there. I wish I was fucking you instead of those pretty fingers of yours, and my fist” He pants out, and you let out a whimper, fucking yourself with your own fingers. You could hear the slick sounds of his hand stroking his cock, that mixed with his heavy breathing and dirty words only drew you closer. “Fuck you so good that you cum all over me? Make us both a mess?”
“Fuck… yes, please Wonwoo…” You didn’t know why you were begging, but it earned another throaty groan. You already had two fingers in, but you added another to try and feel fuller. Your eyes roll, inner muscles clenching around your digits. Your release was within your reach, and after stalling so much, you were desperate for it.
Desperate to come undone with him.
“Please what?” That deep voice of his vibrated through you, your mind thinking about him as you continued to fuck yourself. You imagine went wild, picturing Wonwoo on the other end of the line, laying naked on his own bed, phone pressed to his ear to listen to your own moans. Stroking his hard thick cock with his hand instead of you. A hand that should be on you while he was buried in you. “Tell me, baby. Tell me and you can have it.”
“I need.. I need to cum.” You begged out.
“You sound so fucking pretty right now, its driving me crazy.” There was a stutter to his words, “I’m almost there too. Cum for me...”
You were so focused on your clit that you couldn’t register that he said your name instead of some nickname. Too focused on moving your fingers in a sloppy frantic way to realized the effect it had on you. With your back arching, your gasps and moans getting louder, and the way fireworks burst behind your eyes. Coming undone while he came with you on the other end, panting out curses while you cried out.
All your muscles drawn tight while your orgasm rushed through you. It was intense, consuming, and cemented your feelings for him.
“Fuck,” You both breath out, slowly coming down from your highs. Slowly, you slip your hand out of your underwear, you were amazed to see that your fingers and palm was covered in your own juices, while feeling it drip down your ass.
Now that you were finally coming to your senses, a new feeling started to build in you. It wasn’t shame or regret, but a timid feeling. A shy feeling after what you had just done with him, while taking in that it actually happened.
Wonwoo was silent on the other end, with the only thing you can tell he was there was his breathing and the rustling on the other end. Sheets and maybe something to clean himself up with?
“You there, Dreamer?” He finally spoke since you weren’t, sounding the same as you were feeling. This this actually happened.
“I’m here.” You answered shyly. “I need to clean up.”
“Same.” He answered, and you realized that you were getting off the phone with each other. He wasn’t rushing, lingering before saying the words, but an insecure part of you started to think that he was going to be done with you now.
The cat and mouse game had ended with you giving into him like he wanted. And you were the mouse. Until he spoke again, “Do you want to go clean up, and we can keep this going through text… or I can call you back?”
“You still want to talk to me? And on the phone?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He laughed like that was a silly thing for you to say. “In fact, I think I’m going to be even more annoying now, and it’s going to be harder to get rid of me now.”
Thank you again for reading! I do hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think. Reblogs are really appreciated too.
I checked what was left with this fic, and there is still almost 20k left, and that does not factor in the rewrites possibly making it longer. Chapter 4 will be out soon, I have two one shots that are coming out soon, posting will be pushed back.
Thank you again!
"Imaginary Wife, Real Mess"
Pairing: Dilf!Jeno x Milf!Reader
Genres: Smut/PWP, Infidelity, Fantasy/Imagination
Type: Drabble
Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+/mature audiences only), cheating/infidelity, male masturbation, explict sexual fantasy, dirty talk, breeding kink, mommy kink, light degradation and slut-shaming, big dick!Jeno, reader has big breasts and a round back
Word Count: 1.6k
Author’s Note: This is the third part of my Dilf!Jeno x Milf!Reader series. You don’t have to read the previous parts to understand this one, but it might make the vibe clearer!.
-> Part 1
-> Part 2
-> Series Masterlist
Summary: Alone in bed with his wife asleep beside him, Jeno can’t stop thinking about you. His hand and his imagination do the rest—dirty fantasies of you bent over his kitchen counter, taking him raw, giving him more kids. By the end, he’s a mess, smirking as he sends you filthy late-night texts you’ll only discover in the morning.
✦ ──────────────────────────────────── ✦
Jeno lay on his back in bed, the dim light from the streetlamp outside barely slipping through the curtains. His wife’s soft breathing filled the quiet room, steady and unaware, her body turned away from him. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, jaw clenched, chest heavy. He couldn’t sleep—not when your face kept flashing in his head. Not when he still swore he could smell your perfume lingering from the gym.
His hand slid under the sheets, brushing against the waistband of his sweats. He turned his head to glance at his wife—fast asleep, oblivious—and guilt twisted low in his gut, but it only made him harder. He tugged his sweats down just enough to free his cock, already stiff, already aching.
And then he let himself sink into the fantasy.
You, in his kitchen. Wearing that silky little robe he liked to picture you in, the one barely covering your round ass. Your hair messy, your lips swollen from him biting at them. He imagined stepping up behind you, pressing his chest to your back, letting you feel how hard he was through his pants.
“Fuck, mommy…” he murmured under his breath, stroking his cock slowly as his eyes fluttered shut.
In his head, he bent you over the counter, his hands greedy—palming your tits through the robe, sliding it up to your waist so your ass and pussy were bare for him. Just like he wanted. No panties. No barrier. Just you wet and ready for him.
He imagined himself biting into the curve of your shoulder, sucking a mark onto your skin, then kissing it softer after—like he couldn’t decide whether to ruin you or worship you. He saw his fingers squeezing the soft flesh of your ass, spreading you open so he could tease you with his tip.
Just like in the gym showers. Just enough to make you beg. Just enough to hear you gasp, please, Jeno… fuck me.
He pumped his cock faster, precum smearing along his shaft, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he pictured himself sliding inside you. That first push, tight and wet, your body clenching around him like it always did. He pictured the sound of your moan filling his kitchen, your tits pressed against the cold countertop while he bottomed out in you.
“God, you’d look so good like this,” he whispered, licking his lips as he stroked harder, hips lifting slightly off the bed. “Bent over my counter, my cock so deep in your married pussy.”
In his fantasy, he fucked you hard, rough, his hips slamming against your ass. He pictured the way your robe would fall down around your elbows, exposing your breasts so he could reach around and palm them, thumb rolling over your nipples. His other hand would grab your ass, squeezing, spreading, guiding your body back onto his cock with every thrust.
He groaned softly into the pillow, careful not to wake his wife, even as his body trembled with how vivid the fantasy was.
Then the thought hit him—your future together. He imagined you swollen with his child instead of your husband’s, imagined your tits heavier with milk, imagined two little twins running around—his twins. A family he chose with you, not the one he was stuck in now.
“Say it,” he whispered hoarsely, his fist working over his cock, precum slicking his hand. “Say you’d rather give me more babies than that useless husband of yours. Say you’re my mommy.”
His hips jerked upward at the thought, and he bit his lip hard, trying not to groan too loud. He was losing himself in it—your voice in his ear, your body beneath him, his cock buried deep in you while you begged him to fuck you harder.
He teased himself the way he would tease you—stroking just his tip, rubbing circles with his thumb like he was dragging it over your clit, imagining how wet you’d be for him. He squeezed himself tighter, simulating how your pussy would flutter around him when he pressed deeper, harder, until his balls slapped against you.
“Fuck… Y/N…” he hissed under his breath, imagining the counter creaking from the force of his thrusts, your nails clawing at the surface, your moans bouncing off the kitchen walls.
The more he pictured it, the more desperate he became—stroking faster, biting back groans, sweat starting to bead along his forehead.
But he didn’t let himself come yet. He forced himself to slow down, to drag out the fantasy, to keep edging himself the same way he kept you on the brink in his mouth.
His grip tightened around his cock, the sheets already damp under his hand as he worked himself faster. His wife shifted slightly on her side, still deep in sleep, and the sight of her made his chest twist with guilt—but also sharper lust. Because it wasn’t her he was stroking his cock to. It was you. Always you.
In his head, the fantasy blurred sharper—your ass bouncing back against him, your tits spilling against his kitchen counter as he pounded into you from behind. He imagined the obscene slap of skin on skin, your moans broken and needy. He leaned forward into the pillow, teeth sinking into the fabric as he hissed through clenched teeth, desperate to stay quiet.
“Yeah, fuck… take it, mommy… take daddy’s cock,” he whispered hoarsely, his breath shaking.
In his fantasy, his thumb rolling over your nipple until you cried out. The other hand came down sharply on your ass, a loud smack echoing through the kitchen. You jerked, whined, but pushed back harder, your pussy clenching down on him.
He stroked his cock tighter, pumping all the way from tip to base, precum slicking his fist. The sensation matched the fantasy too well—your slick walls milking him, your pussy so tight he almost couldn’t pull out.
“Fuck, baby… look at you. Married and still begging for another man’s cock,” he muttered, voice low, dirty, almost a growl. His hips bucked into his fist, sharp and needy.
The fantasy grew filthier the longer he stroked himself. He saw you turn your head over your shoulder, eyes glassy, lips parted. I want to give you babies, Jeno…
The words made his cock twitch in his hand. He squeezed tighter, his balls tightening in response. “Yeah? You want my kids, mommy? You already gave me twins in this perfect little life—” his words broke on a sharp breath, “—but you want more? Two more? Along with our brats from those useless marriages?”
In his head, you moaned your agreement, sobbing out yes, yes, fuck me, fill me up, daddy.
His hand worked faster, stroking hard and messy now, precum dripping down his shaft, slicking his fingers. He felt his orgasm building, sharp and hot, pressure coiling deep in his gut.
“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” he hissed into the pillow, voice muffled, desperate. “Wife, mother… and you’re still taking my cock like this, still begging me to breed you. You love it, don’t you? You love being daddy’s mommy.”
The fantasy blurred into sensation—his hips slamming against your ass, your pussy spasming around him as you came on his cock, screaming his name, begging him to give you more, give you everything. His hand tightened one last time—
And then he broke.
Jeno bit hard into the pillow as his cock erupted in his fist, thick ropes of cum spilling over his stomach, his hand, the sheets. His body jerked with each pulse, hot and messy, just like he imagined himself emptying deep inside you. He stroked himself through it, milking every drop, his chest heaving, sweat dampening his hairline.
“Fuck, fuck—Y/N,” he gasped into the dark, his voice hoarse. His hand slowed gradually, sliding through the mess as his cock twitched one last time. In his mind, he watched you collapse against the counter, his cum dripping down your thighs, your body marked up by his teeth and hands. A perfect picture of ruin that belonged only to him.
In reality, his wife still slept soundly at his side, unaware of the way her husband lay sweaty, spent, and guilty beside her—his cum cooling sticky across his skin. But Jeno didn’t look at her. His eyes stayed shut, clutching the image of you as tightly as he’d clutched his cock, unwilling to let it go.
Because in his head, you were still bent over his counter, swollen with his children, begging for more. And he’d keep jerking off to that fantasy, over and over, until he made it real.
Jeno lay back against the damp sheets, chest still heaving, the mess on his stomach cooling sticky against his skin. His wife shifted faintly beside him, tugging the blanket higher without ever waking. He let out a quiet breath, lips curling into a smirk as he reached for his phone on the nightstand.
The glow lit up his face in the dark, his thumb swiping to your chat. He didn’t bother wiping his hand first—his fingers still smelled faintly of sex, slick against the screen. A perfect reminder.
Bet you’d look so fucking good bent over my counter again.
Still thinking about how tight you were in that locker room.
Can’t wait to fill you up, mommy. I want you swollen with me.
Each message dripped with the same filth that had just gotten him off, raw and unfiltered. He paused, staring at the unsent words, then hit send one after another. He knew you were probably asleep, tucked up beside your husband, completely unaware of the filth lighting up your phone.
It made him grin wider. Because come morning, you’d see it—and you’d know he’d been thinking about you even with his wife lying right beside him.
Phone back on the nightstand, Jeno finally let his eyes close, dirty satisfaction humming in his chest.
─── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ───
feedback and reblog are always appreciated!.
Taglist: @multifandomania, @bluedbliss, @cookydream, @dior-15, @reveries01, @flaminhotlem0n
If you want to be tagged in my future jeno writings, join the taglist here
itty bitty | n.jm
“itty bitty, teeny tiny, little slutty skirt.”
💿now playing: itty bitty by ashnikko
❯ summary: You didn’t spend forty five minutes perfecting your eyeliner and squeezing yourself into a skirt that could double as a belt for nothing. You came to the club with a purpose. Get under someone new so you can forget the someone old. And the hottie with pouty lips has taken your itty bitty, teeny tiny, slutty little bait.
❯ pairings: jaemin x fem!reader
❯ genre: smut, hook up, stangers
❯ words: 1.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, fingering, toxic ex, smut, use of the word slut a lot, public sex, exhibitionism, protected sex, quickie, basically just fucking a stanger in a club
You’re getting finger fucked in the back of the club, bass thundering through the walls and straight into your spine, and you feel absolutely zero shame about it.
In fact? This was the plan.
You didn’t spend forty-five minutes perfecting your eyeliner and squeezing yourself into a skirt that could double as a belt for nothing. You came here with a purpose. Get under someone new so you can forget about the someone old.
And the hottie with pouty lips, silver rings on his fingers, and a black jacket stretched distractingly across his shoulders walked right into your trap.
Hook, line, and sinful little sinker.
It all started earlier tonight when you found the skirt. The itty bitty, teeny tiny, little slutty skirt. You think it’s from your freshman year of college but you can’t remember exactly when you stopped wearing it—only that your ex hated it. And you can’t blame them. When you bend over, it becomes more of a suggestion than an article of clothing.
“Can you see my ass when I bend over?” you asked Giselle, twisting in front of the mirror and pretending not to admire the way the thin fabric hugged your curves.
Giselle didn’t even look up at first, still crouched on the floor applying her mascara. “Babe,” she deadpanned, finally glancing over. “I think I can see your pussy.”
You straightened slowly. “Yeah?”
She blinked. “Yes.”
You leaned closer to the mirror, turned, checked the side profile. “Okay, good.”
Giselle barked out a laugh. “God, I forgot how much of a slut you used to be before that ex of yours had you on house arrest.”
“I was not on house arrest,” you said, shoving your tits up in your bra and glossing your lips. “You make me sound like one of those girls who lets their partner dictate their life.”
She just stared at you.
Blankly.
“Babe,” she said gently. “I love you. But you were.”
Okay.
Maybe.
You did cancel girls’ nights sometimes because they “didn’t like the club scene.” You did stop wearing half your closet because it was “too much.” You did stay home most weekends because the sex was too good and the drama of breaking up felt exhausting.
But that was before.
Before the fight. Before the breakup. Before you realised good sex isn’t worth shrinking yourself.
So tonight? Tonight you’re expanding.
You’re looking for someone hung. Someone new. Someone who’ll fuck you in a grimy club bathroom because apparently good sex in the city is cheaper than therapy and way more effective after a breakup.
Which is how you’ve ended up pressed into the back of the club, half-hidden by a shadow of bodies with the bass pounding so hard it rattles your teeth. The hottie’s palm is flat against your stomach holding you steady while his other hand slides between your thighs. His fingers dip under your microscopic excuse for a skirt, no hesitation, no asking. He nudges your panties aside and—
“You’re not wearing much under here,” he murmurs into your ear, breath hot, teeth grazing your skin.
“That’s the point,” you shoot back.
He groans when he finds how wet you are. Then his fingers push inside you. Slow at first until he’s curling them. Your head tips back against him as the music swallows your moan whole. The crowd is thick enough to hide you—sweaty bodies, flashing lights, everyone too drunk, too distracted to notice the way you’re grinding back against his hand like a bitch in heat.
“You always meet guys and let them fuck you in clubs?” he asks, thrusting his fingers deeper now, thumb brushing your clit in lazy, infuriating circles.
You laugh breathlessly. “No.”
He arches a brow against your temple. “No?”
“Just tonight.”
His grip tightens at your hip. “Lucky me.”
Right on cue with the beat dropping, he ruthlessly drives his fingers knuckle-deep into your pussy. Thank God the music is loud. Thank God you’re buried in the back of the crowd. Thank God everyone’s too busy losing their minds to notice you losing yours. Because the only one who hears you curse God’s name is the man massaging your g-spot.
“No, baby,” he says, low and smug. “I already told you—my name’s Jaemin. That’s the only thing I wanna hear out of those pretty lips when I put my cock inside this slutty little pussy.”
You mewl into his shoulder. “Your cock isn’t in my pussy.”
“Not yet.”
Fuck.
The press of bodies brushing past you makes you shiver, heat crawling up your spine as his fingers keep working. People bump your shoulder and graze your arm—so oblivious, so uninterested, like they don’t know exactly what’s happening right here in the shadows.
You do.
And God—you love that.
“You like this,” Jaemin murmurs, mouth right at your ear now, voice swallowed by bass and sweat and sin. “Being right here. Where anyone could see.”
Your breath stutters when his thumb presses just right, when his grip tightens like he’s daring you to lose it.
“Don’t,” you whisper, even though your hips chase his hand.
He laughs softly. “Don’t what?”
You don’t answer. You can’t. The music surges, lights flashing overhead, your body wound taut with the thrill of it—of being caught, of being watched, of being wanted this badly in the middle of a packed dance floor.
Your knees threaten to buckle, but he catches it.
“Bathroom,” he says, sudden and decisive, already hooking two fingers into your waistband. “Now.”
He drags you through the crowd without looking back, your hand clutched in his like property as he guides you. The bathroom door slams shut behind you with the lock clicking into place as your back meets cool tile.
“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m gonna share this orgasm with a crowd of people,” he growls into your skin as he flips your skirt up in one sharp, efficient motion. “You might not be my girl—but I worked for this orgasm. It’s mine.”
Why is that so hot?
Cool air kisses your bare thighs as your itty-bitty skirt stays bunched at your waist. He unbuckles his belt, and you feel your pussy pool at the thought of his cock inside you. When he spins you around, palms flattening against the tiles, you let him.
You think you hear the soft tear of foil, and it makes sense because you’re already needy, already waiting to be filled. He takes his time after that, dragging his covered cock through your slick, nudging your clit with the tip just enough to make you shiver and make your breath hitch. He does it again. And again. Like he’s testing how much you can take.
“Easy,” he hisses when he pushes inside and your walls tightens around him.
The sensation steals the air from your lungs. You’ve had good sex before—really good—but this is different. This is big. This is full. This is absolutely going to make your head go blank. And he’s only just started.
When he bottoms out, your body reacts before you can stop it. Your eyes roll back with a broken whimper tearing from your throat. Behind you, he lets out a low chuckle and it’s so damn sexy you swear it might be enough to push you over all on its own. He’s already stolen one orgasm from you, and the way he sounds now tells you he knows it.
“Look at that,” he murmurs, voice right at your ear. “Should’ve known you’d be such a good little slut the second I saw this little fucking skirt.”
You bite your lip, a groan slipping out anyway, your hands pressing harder into the tile. “Then hurry up,” you breathe. “Fuck me like the pretty little slut you think I am.”
He kisses his teeth at that, then moves. Harder. Faster. Like he doesn’t appreciate being goaded, like he plans on making you pay for every word.
His hips snap back and forth, rough and relentless. It’s brutal in the best way because your thoughts turn fuzzy. You’d take this punishment happily—over and over and over again—just to hear the sounds he makes when he loses control and pounds.
No wonder your ex hated this skirt.
If this is what it does to men—makes them pant and groan and crowd your space like they can’t get close enough, breath hot and heaving against your ear while they drive into you again and again—then yeah.
You feel his thrusts growing sloppier as his control slips through his fingers. Your legs are just as weak, trembling beneath you. Every thrust is maddening, hard enough that your face presses into the white tile, his name muffled as your body finally gives in, tightening around him as you cum around his cock.
“Good fucking girl,” he coos, voice low and wrecked.
His grip tightens on your flipped-up skirt, knuckles digging into the fabric to keep you steady. You feel him clutch it harder when his own body shudders, one last brutal drive into your hips. He stays there for a moment afterwards, unmoving, as he spills inside the condom. It’s filthy. Dirty. Utterly slutty.
And it’s exactly what you needed—something raw enough with a stranger to slap a temporary bandage over your heart that’s still broken.
༘⋆♡⸝⸝💌⊹。°˖➴
your vision became blurry, tears threatening to spill from your eyes due to the purple led lights in the room, but mostly due to your boyfriend!jaemin giving you backshots in front of his floor-length bedroom mirror.
your hands were leaving sweaty fingerprints on the mirror as jaemin pounded you towards it, with his one hand wrapped around your neck, sqeezing it so as so you could let out those pretty squeaky moans that he liked, his other hand gripping on your waist for support.
jaemin's lustfull gaze bore into your eyes through the mirror, his lips parted slightly open because of the overstimulation, his pace rough and steady shooting bolts of pleasure through your entire body.
"look at you all fucked up, taking in my cock like the pretty little slut you are" jaemin growled in your ear as he gripped your neck and waist tighter. "do you see how good we look, baby?"
his filthy words only added to the sensation of the moment. your bodies moved in sync, creating a dance only the two of you could follow. the warmth of your velvety walls hugging jaemin perfectly, the angelic sounds coming from your throat, the sound of skin slapping on skin, your breasts bouncing with every harsh stroke he gave you, all of these only made jaemin lose himself even more, a guttural sound escaping his soft lips.
the sounds he made only made you wetter, slick dripping down your thighs. jaemin took his hand off your waist, the absence of his touch leaving a coldness in the area. the temperature inside your body rose up again when his hand grabbed your hair instead, pulling you flush against his chest.
the sweet pain of this action alone elicited a loud sensual moan from you and jaemin swore he was sent to heaven. you leaned your head back, resting it on his shoulder while you could feel his sweaty chest clinging to your back.
with every harsh stroke, your knees became weaker and your pussy wetter. the man behind you was in utter bliss feeling you clenching around him. as your moans became louder and louder and your body began trembling, jaemin whispered in your ear, sultry and provoking, his breath slowly becoming uneven too. "let go for me, baby, let it all out, come on, i know you can do this".
pulling you loose - j.ww
pairing: wonwoo x fem reader rating: R, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT wc: 4.9K warnings: angst about a breakup, smut: kind of public sex (it happens in a room but it's technically in a public space), dirty talk, slightly possesssive, reader likes wonu's hands, thumb sucking, unprotected sex, he cums on her stomach, fucking from behind synopsis: : heartbreak means tying yourself back up in the hopes that someone will kindly unravel you again. you don't expect your unraveling to come in the form of the grandson of the lady who runs your local film developing studio. a/n: this is for the candy hearts collab hosted by @svthub this is for @lovelylonelinesssvt who was my lovely valentine for this collab! hi ella! surprise it's me your valentine. i sincerely hope you enjoy reading this as much as i had fun writing this <3 i hope you had a lovely valentine's day (sorry i'm a lil late!)
You feel the ache in your body as you wake up from another cry-induced nap on your couch. The feeling of your dried tears cracking across your cheeks. You look to your left and see that there's a mug with a sticky note attached to it on your magazine covered coffee table. A groan comes from you as you're leaning over to grab it.
"Drink this and stop thinking about him xx"
You smile at the kind gesture of your best friend. Sending her a quick thank you text, you stand up and peer into the mug. The smell of your favorite warm drink hits your nose and you're filled with a sense of comfort.
After letting the steaming mug wake you up, you decide to take her advice. You shouldn't think about your ex anymore. You remind yourself that sometimes things just don't work out. Surveying the state of your studio apartment, you wrinkle your nose at the result. Walking into the kitchen, you grab a sticky note and write the things that need to be done:
throw trash away
put clothes away
vacuum
Crouching down under the sink, you pull out two garbage bags. You replace the bin that's sitting in your kitchen and take the other empty bag to walk around your studio. There are empty candy wrappers and popcorn bags that litter the side of your couch, a reminder of your coping skills from the night before. Once you've filled it, you tie it up and set the two bags by the door. You strike a line through the first task.
You set out to tackle the second task: putting away the mountain of clothes that have accumulated. Deciding that you didn't want to work in silence, you pick a vinyl off the shelf to play. You've been a fan of analog media for most of your life, you don't remember what exactly started it but the fascination followed you into adulthood. The soft melodies of the first track flow through your speakers and you plop yourself at the foot of your bed to start sorting. You begin arranging the clothes in piles and fall into a rhythm: clothes being donated fell into a pile on your right and the ones you were keeping were being folded neatly into a stack. As you get to the end, a navy blue cardigan catches your attention. Gingerly you pick it up and fold it into your lap. This was the cardigan you wore the first time you confessed your feelings to Seungcheol.
You hold up one of the sleeves and see that the red star you'd stitched into the sleeve had a loose thread. You'd stitched the shape into the cardigan after Seungcheol noticed it when you were holding hands. In a cruel twist of fate, it was the also the same one you wore when he broke your heart. That was six months ago.
A laugh bubbles out of your throat at the timing the universe has. There's a small ache that knocks in your chest as you fold the sleeves in and you're confronted with the choice of keep or donate.
Before the ache can consume you, a loud thud outside your apartment breaks you out of your thoughts. The first thought in your brain is that the sweet old lady from across the way must have dropped something heavy. Your eyes flit to the trash bags by your door and figure you can inspect the source of the noise on your way out to the dumpster. You make your way outside with the bags of trash hooked onto your left arm.
What's outside your door is not the usual nice elderly woman that you're accustomed to, instead a man, an incredibly cute one, who is silently cursing himself. There's also a mess of groceries that have spilled out into hallway. The two of you make eye contact and he apologizes for the mess, you shrug and step around the mess to head downstairs and throw your trash out. Your mouth moves before your brain does and you tell him that you'll be back to help. There's a slight skip in your step as you bounce back up the stairs. You round the corner and find the stranger on his knees, carefully placing the groceries back into the brown paper bag. Rushing over, you grab the rest of the items and hand them to him. He takes them gratefully and offers you a smile that warms you on the inside.
"Thanks again, you didn't have to," he says sheepishly. The baritone in his voice taking you a bit by surprise.
"Oh, no worries!" You shoot back a smile.
The two of you stand up at the same time, but there's barely any space between the two of you. You pick up the scent of cherries and something musky that makes you melt. You wish him a good day and head back inside. There's a smile on your face as you press your back against your door. Shaking your head, you pad over to your bed to finish the second task on your list. Picking up the pile of folded clothes, you swing open your closet door with the back of your heel. You place things in their designated spaces until you're finished. Padding over to the kitchen you cross off the task as you're pulling out a bin for the pile of clothes you've decided to donate. You leave it right by the door, so you don't forget it the next time you're out.
There is one last task left and you head back to your closet to dig out the vacuum. You make sure that most of the larger things on the floor are picked up and out of the way. You also take a second to pause the record that's playing since you won't be able to hear it over the roar of the vacuum. Thankful that you had a cordless vacuum, you begin the final task on your list.
As you're moving around, you hit your coffee table and some of the magazines on it fall to the floor. Switching off the vacuum, you kneel down to stack the magazines together. One of them slid a bit under your couch, so you reach in to swipe it back out. As you're reaching in, you feel a small plastic cylinder at the edge of the magazine. Wrapping your fingers around it, you pull your arm back to find a film canister. The label on it is pretty much smudged off so you have no clue how dated this thing is. You place the newly found item on your coffee table and finish vacuuming.
When you finally finish, you find yourself quite hungry. Opening your fridge, you are pleasantly surprised when you find a tupperware filled with your favorite food. The glass container decorated with another sticky note, which you can only assume is from your best friend. You take the container out, peel the note off and pop the food into the microwave. While waiting for your food, you take a look at the note she left behind.
"Because sometimes, we just need our favorites to cheer us up xx"
You smile and send her yet another thank you text. She responds by calling you. Your phone rings at the same time that your microwave beeps — you quickly put her on speakerphone, grab the food, and ask about her day. As you let her ramble about her job and the incompetence of her coworkers, you're shoving food into your mouth. The heat of it burning your tongue and you're quick to shout a curse. You hear her giggle on the other end and pout at the fact that she's laughing at your pain. She turns the conversation on you and asks what you did with your day. You run through the task list— talked about the cute guy who spilled his groceries in front your door, the fact that your navy blue cardigan was part of TWO emotional heights in your relationships, and the random film canister you found. You even ask her if the canister was hers. She replies that she doesn't remember leaving a canister at yours and suggests that you take it over to Carat Lab. Hitting your kitchen countertop, you squeal at her good idea, bringing up that you'd been meaning to get over there to get your camera looked at. The two of you wrap up your conversation after making plans to see each other.
It's the following morning and you decide, that it was time to get your camera checked out. On your last trip, it had slipped out of your hands and since then the shutter has been acting wonky. You take a quick shower and get dressed.
You walk into Carat Lab expecting to find the small old lady that usually runs the counter (who also happens to be your neighbor) but instead you find the incredibly cute stranger from yesterday. He has a film camera taken apart and he's tinkering with it. Immediately you notice his hands and how gentle they are while he's holding the camera. What really pulls your attention, is the vein that runs along his thumb when he has to apply a bit of force to close the camera. You don't even notice yourself biting your lip until you feel the pain of your tooth digging into your skin. Surveying the shop, you find that no one else is working the counter so you're stuck walking up. The stranger with the nice hands doesn't notice you immediately, so you lightly knock on the glass display. He looks up with a slightly shocked look on his face, that forms into recognition.
"Stalking me now, are we?" He says with a smirk perched on his face. Shooting back a look of disbelief, you immediately launch into your story to dispel any notion that you had followed him. Opening up your purse you fish out your camera, making sure to be careful, and place it on the glass.
"See? I have a perfectly good, non-creepy reason to be here. If anything I should be asking you that question!" You huff at him, questioning where the grandma who usually works the store is. Chuckling to himself, he gestures at a framed picture behind him on the wall.
"Who? Her? That's my grandmother," while he explains his relationship to her, he continues to work on the camera from earlier. Your eyes move back to his hands and you're mesmerized by the meticulousness and gentleness he has. While you're watching him, you recollect that Mrs. Jeon had talked about her grandchildren before. She'd shown you pictures, but they were all from when the kids were younger, so you didn't really know what they looked like.
Until now. And god, did this grandkid age well.
Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, he introduces himself with a hand extended to you.
"I'm Wonwoo, and you are?" Taking his hand, you shake it and give him your name. You don't miss the small bit of heat that settles at the bottom of your stomach when your hands touch.
"Well, for the record, if you were stalking me, I wouldn't have minded." He says as he gives you a wink. The tips of your ears go red. Finishing up with the camera he'd been working on, he asks you to hand yours over. Gently, you slide it to him. He picks it up, giving you a compliment on the model you own.
"I don't see this one too often, she's an oldie." He smiles and it's blinding. After placing the camera on a mat, he turns and grabs a small toolbox from behind him. Popping it open, he plucks a small screwdriver to open the body of your camera. Once he has it open, he bends down to take a look at the camera. After a few moments, he picks up some other tools and starts to perform what looks like surgery on your camera.
"Your shutter is definitely broken. I can fix it but I'll need to order a specific part to replace the spring mechanism. It'll take me a bit of time…" He continues telling you that since your camera is quite niche, finding spare parts can be difficult. You nod and reply that you don't mind waiting. He puts your camera back together and places it on a working table behind him. He asks if there's anything else that he can do for you and you fish out the film canister in your left pocket.
"I found this the other day and I honestly have no clue what's on it so I'd love to get it developed," you offer him a kind smile and the plastic. He takes it with a nod and informs you that both your camera and this roll of film will be ready in between one and a half to two weeks. Pulling out a form from a shelf behind him, he slides it to you.
"It's just so we can call you once your things are ready. Don't worry, totally professional," he jokes with a wink. Smiling as you take the form, you quickly fill it out. After you slide back the piece of paper, he tells you that he'll see you soon and you reply with a quick nod. You begin to make your way out of the shop, but call out to him just before you exit.
"For the record, if you decided to be unprofessional, I wouldn't mind," you say with a wink that mirrored his from earlier.
A few hours after you leave the shop you hear a ping from your phone. You roll over from your bed and see a text from an unknown number.
Is asking you to dinner tonight also unprofessional?
There is a cheesy grin on your face as you reply to him.
Maybe. But like I said I don't mind ;)
The rest of your day is spent flirting through text messages with Wonwoo. Eventually you settle on the details. You calculate that you have about two hours to get ready. You thank the stars that you'd washed your hair that morning. You pull out a black dress that you know makes you look incredible. You lay it on your bed and continue to get ready. As the clock nears six, you're doing one last check in the mirror.
A knock interrupts you. Sauntering over to your front door and the sight that greets you is delectable. Your date is dressed in a black long sleeve button up and black pinstripe pants. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off the hands that you've become enamored with. You begin to feel a bit of shame that you're checking him out with the same energy of a starved bear and a piece of meat, but then you notice he's doing the same to you. His eyes are dark as they rake up and down your figure. The feeling of heat between your thighs making itself known again.
"You look… Wow." He admits. Flashing a confident smile you share the same sentiment. Distracted by his gaze, you grab a random cardigan off the back of your door and make your way outside. As you walk down the stairs, you swear you can feel the heat of his gaze.
Dinner is filled with pleasant conversations with an underlying tension so hot and heavy that you have to excuse yourself to the restroom.
When you return back to your table, you find that not only has Wonwoo ordered the two of you a dessert, he's also paid the bill. You chastise him and he retorts back that his grandmother would never let him hear the end of it, if he let you pay a cent. You oblige him by accepting this gesture on the condition you pay for the next date.
"A second date? Consider me lucky," he muses as you're taking a bite of the chocolate cake he ordered. You chuckle as this happens and this leaves a bit of frosting on the corner of your mouth that you don't notice.
He does.
"Oh you've got-" he points to his face. Mortified you try and wipe at the spot. By the look on his face, it doesn't seem like you've gotten all of it.
"Here, let me." Scooting closer to you, he brings his had to your face and his thumb swiped at the spot you missed. It grazes your lip and the tension in the room comes to a head when you suddenly take his thumb into your mouth. You swipe at the frosting with your tongue, and you meet his eyes as you do. Taking note of Wonwoo, you see him just as flushed, but his eyes are dark.
Releasing his thumb with a slight pop, you flash him a smirk. "Thanks."
He nods, taking a small breath. There's a split second of frenzy before the two of you are rushing to his car. Wonwoo guides you in front of him, his large hand warm and possessive on the small of your back. Still a gentleman, he opens the car door for you and you slide in. The entire drive, his hand is on your thigh, gradually rising higher.
Giggles are shared as you race up the stairs to your studio. As you fumble with the key, Wonwoo is pressing into you from behind, nipping at your ear and clawing your cardigan off. He gets it halfway off when you get your key into the door and unlock it. You move forward but find yourself pulling on something heavy. Looking down you notice that your cardigan is caught on his belt. Giving it a slight tug, you hear the sure snap of the thread. The ruined cardigan was tomorrow's problem.
It had been six days since your dinner date and it had been radio silence from Wonwoo. Pondering what could've gone wrong, you recount the night.
Dinner was great.
The sex was even better.
The morning after was pleasant as you shared a cup of coffee. Hell you even walked him to his car after he said he had to go back to the photo lab.
You frown as you toss your phone on your bed, as you've refreshed your notification center another time with no new messages. Flopping back on your bed, you land with a soft thud and a small exhale. Six seconds later, there's a ping to break the silence. If anyone else was around, you would be embarrassed at how fast your hand shoots out for your phone.
Hi this is Wonwoo from Carat Lab
The smile doesn't last long once you read the rest of the message.
Your items are ready for pick-up. We'll send another reminder in 3 days. Thank for you choosing us for your photo needs!
You scoff at the message and get dressed to go collect your items. As your walking out you almost slip on a cardigan that was lying on the floor. Picking it up, you inspect the fabric and there's a confused look on your face when you see the navy blue cardigan on your floor.
The one that you'd been thinking about getting rid of. The one that Seungcheol broke your heart in.
As you fold the cardigan, you look at the sleeve and see that the heart you'd stitched was pretty much pulled loose. For what feels like the hundredth time your brows scrunch up in confusion. You don't remember how it could've gotten this way.
Then the memory hits you. The sound of the snap from the night with Wonwoo rings clear in your ears. You laugh to yourself but it's cut short when you remember that the other half of your tango has been ignoring you for some reason.
Pushing the door open, you expect to see Wonwoo but you're greeted with an empty shop. You reason that he's likely developing film in the back. As you come up to the register you notice a sign that says "Press this button if no one's at the front". Before you're able to push the button, Mrs. Jeon greets you.
"Hi honey! You here to pick up your film? I thought I saw your name on a receipt earlier!" She coos at you while opening a binder. As she flips through, she asks how you've been and what you'd been up to. While you're updating her, you look for any sign of Wonwoo being around. Your shoulders slightly slump when you come up empty.
"Hmmm, I don't see your film but your camera is definitely ready. I'm about to head out for the day, but one of my grandkids is probably in the back working. Give me a second dear." She smiles at you sweetly and yells something towards the back.
You hear the unmistakable baritone of Wonwoo's voice, yelling back, the sound getting louder as he appears. The two of them speak in Korean, you don't understand much of what they're saying, but based off the tuts of her tongue and the way he pleads with her you can tell he's not exactly happy to see you.
"I'm heading out dear, but Wonwoo here will help you," she shoves him towards the register. She gives your hand a light squeeze as she leaves.
The anger must be radiating off you because he speaks with caution.
"Your film is taking a bit to develop, but your camera's ready if you wanted to pick it up now. Or you can come back later-"
Not wanting to dance around each other, you jump the gun.
"What happened? Didn't peg you to be a hit and quit it kind of guy." Your tone is cold and your arms are crossed.
Instead of answering, he backs up and opens the door to the developing lab. Your interest is piqued so you follow him in. The room is pretty dark, save for the red light that helps the film develop. Following Wonwoo, your jaw drops when you make out the image of the hanging negatives. Strung along the room are pictures of you and Seungcheol. Your heart sinks when you realize that these were from last summer, when the two of you took a trip to a small beach town nearby to celebrate your anniversary. The tears begin to pool at the corners of your eyes.
"I can explain," you whisper softly, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice.
"Oh this I've got to hear," you flinch at the his tone. But it doesn't stop you from telling him the truth.
"I swear I didn't know what was on that roll. I wouldn't do something like that." You admit as you finish explaining. You're sniffling by now and swaying on the balls of your feet. When he doesn't immediately respond, you take it as rejection.
Dejected, you start to turn around to find the exit, but you feel his hand cup your cheek. He leans his forehead against yours, the red light reflecting off his glasses, and softly mutters.
"Well, now I feel like a capital A asshole."
You silently giggle and it forces the tears out from your eyes, which he immediately swipes away with his thumb.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. You squeeze the arm that's cupping your cheek in acknowledgement.
"For what it's worth, I do still like you. Honestly seeing these made me jealous that someone else had your heart," he confesses. You couldn't see, but you could tell he was blushing. Remembering the other pictures you'd taken on that trip, it was your turn to blush.
"Have you finished developing all the pictures on the roll?" You ask timidly. You could hear the smirk on his face. Dropping his hand from your face, he takes your hand and leads you to the sink where they held the stop bath. Hanging from a string, fully illuminated by the red light, is a picture of you from behind in a dark colored bikini. At this angle, you looked like Venus herself.
"I gotta say," Wonwoo says from behind you, breath hot against your neck, "this one is my favorite."
"Not mad about this one huh?" You tease, pressing your ass against him. His hands fly to your hips and squeeze. Your pulse quickens and you feel your heartbeat thrum at your core. His hand snakes along your front and grazes your lip, without even asking, you take it into your mouth and suck. You twist around and run your hands along his front, squeezing him through his jeans and he lets out a groan that sounds like music to your ears.
He pulls away from you for just a second and in that second everything stands still.
"You sure about this?"
Grabbing his belt you pull him towards you and kiss him. Everything happens in a frenzy. Your hands fighting to take off each other's clothes. When he wins, he growls at the sight of you wearing nothing underneath. He takes your boobs in his large hands and squeezes, eliciting a moan from you.
"Fuck these look so good in my hands pretty." You whine for him.
The sound conveying a simple message: I need you now.
He gets the hint and flips you around. Pushing you against the counter, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. Slipping his free hand down your back, he spreads your legs and plays with your wet pussy. He groans at the sensation, which only furthers your desire. You whine once more and start to voice your frustration but then he slams himself to the hilt. The stretch burns deliciously and you find yourself squeezing around him.
"Taking it so good pretty girl, this what you wanted," he taunts and your only response is a high pitched moan. Your sounds spur him on and he pulls you even closer, forcing you to arch even more for him.
You grip the counter for balance with your left hand and the force of Wonwoo makes the pictures along the wall shake. Your right hand is gripping the hand that's splayed across your belly. The angle at which he's pistoning into you, makes white spots dance across your vision.
"Fuck, fuck Wonwoo!" You moan and feel the band in your belly start to tighten up. One of the pictures falls off the wall and it's a picture of you and Seungcheol. Wonwoo crumples it and throws it in a random direction. Somehow this random accident, sets something off in him. Nipping at your ear, he waxes poetic about fucking you so good that you can't think about anything but him and his dick. You thought it was impossible but you get even wetter at his words.
He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss of contact. You felt like he was defying time with how quick he spins you around and hoists you onto the counter. Slipping back in with ease, he continues to ram into you. He grips your thighs so forcefully, that you're sure they'll leave marks and this brings you to a higher plane of pleasure. You throw your head back and scream his name.
He grips your neck and angles your head down, forcing you to look at him. In red shadows, you see the raised lines of his veins bulging from the way he's holding you and you can't help but drool. Your pussy gushes and flutters around him. He eggs you on, lacing praise in between kisses. Cocking his head back towards the pictures and utters a line that gets the band in your belly to snap.
"I can't wait to take you there and fuck you so good that you'll never think about anyone else but me at that beach." He says in a register so low and sinister that you can't help but cum around him. As you're riding through your orgasm, you clamp down on him and he lets out a deep guttural groan. Arching into him, you tell him to chase after his own high. By the sounds coming from him, you can tell he's close.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum," he moans into your neck. You tell him to cum on your stomach and he pulls out just in time to spill on your tummy. Your breaths are heavy and your chests are heaving. Pulling out of you with a slick sound, he brings over a tissue to clean you up. The two of you get dressed, giggling as Wonwoo peppers your cheek and neck with kisses.
The reality of your location dawns over the two you at the same time and you break out into laughter. The two of you slip out of the darkroom to see the "OPEN" sign on the door flipped and a note on the counter.
"Closed up for you. Hope you were safe ;) - Grandma"
A squeal comes from you as Wonwoo hangs his head in embarrassment.
"Your camera is actually ready. Did you want to take it home?" He asks sheepishly. You giggle and give him a peck on the cheek.
"Bring it by mine later? I have some pictures I wanna take," you say with a wink as you walk around the counter to leave. Pushing the glass door open, you turn and call out to him.
"Bring my developed film too?" You tease. As you close the door, you hear him yell that you weren't funny. You shake your head and laugh as you make your way home, excited for what else the night could bring the two of you.
taglist: @livmarauder @mellowamour @lunaxgyu @cherrymayz @choco-scoups @luvrung @chogiwaw special thanks to: liv and may for beta reading for me, @hopecutie and liv for helping with my banner!
Beneath His Honor | JW
pairing: jeon wonwoo!knight x princess!reader
genre: angst, fluff, yearning, smut, childhood-friends-to-lovers, slow-burn, forbidden-love, knight-princess, arranged-marriage, mutual-pining, duty-vs-desire, soft!wonwoo, kind!princess!y/n, royalty
warnings: angst, YEARNING, kissing, SMUT, explicit unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving).
words: 21,944
Summary: In the opulent kingdom of Hesperos, Jeon Wonwoo, the humble baker's son, is pulled into a life of service when the unconventional Princess Y/N arranges for him to become a Page at age eight. Bound by duty, Wonwoo works his way up through the ranks, his childhood promise evolving into the fierce, silent protection of a knight. As adults, their inseparable closeness deepens into a fierce, unspoken love. However, the political demands of the crown intervene when Y/N is forced to accept an arranged marriage, leaving Knight Wonwoo torn between his sacred vow of Honor to the kingdom and his desperate, hidden devotion to the Princess he swore to protect.
The Realm of Celestra in the Kingdom of Hesperos. 1532.
Jeon Wonwoo had always been a caring person.
Especially when it came to people he loved. Everyone around the village knew him as the baker's boy. The one who would hand out stale bread at the end of the day, the one who tried to treat everyone around him with kindness, but the thing that people really talked about was his relationship with the princess of Hesperos.
She would come down to the bakery everyday at dawn and buy two loaves of bread from them. It was on Wonwoo’s eighth birthday that they met for the first time. His mother and father were preparing a particularly large order from the princess the day before, leaving Wonwoo to tend to the counter.
“Who are you?” She asked Wonwoo. He slightly blushed at her question but knew that it was rude to not answer the princess.
“I’m Jeon Wonwoo, your highness. I’m the baker's son.”
The princess nodded as she watched him look towards the kitchen where his parents hadn't emerged yet.
“Your order is almost ready, but it’ll be twelve dollars,” he informed as the princess nodded and handed him a pouch of coins. He opened the pouch and started to count the coins when the princess interrupted him.
“You can have all the money.”
“What?” Wonwoo asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“You can have all the money. I sure don’t need it,” she said again, smiling watching Wonwoo struggle to say anything back to her.
“Well… umm.. Thank you, your highness,” he said, bowing his head as his parents came out of the kitchen with the bread in a basket.
“Princess!” His mother exclaimed, a big smile coming across her face, “here’s the bread you ordered.”
“Thank you Mrs. Jeon.”
“What are you doing with all the bread?” Wonwoo’s father asked, watching the princess struggle to carry the basket.
“It’s for my brother, he asked for some more so that we can have some for lunch,” she huffed trying to look around the basket.
“Wonwoo, why don’t you help the princess and carry the basket for her?” His father asked. Wonwoo nodded and gently took the basket from the princess’ hands as she sighed.
“Thank you,” she smiled, “do you mind coming to the castle?” Wonwoo looked at his parents who smiled and nodded. “I’ll have the coach-man escort you back home.”
Wonoo nodded and followed the princess out to the carriage. His parents waved from the carriage as it took off leaving him and the princess in silence for a majority of the ride to the palace.
“It’s my birthday today,” Wonwoo stated.
“Wait, what?” Y/N gasped, turning around quickly to face him, her braid nearly hitting her cheek, “how old are you turning?"
“Eight,” he smiled.
“Well happy birthday Wonwoo!” Y/N smiled back at him, as the carriage glided up to the castle.
“Follow me!” she said excitedly, tugging open the door and hopping out. Wonwoo remained seated for a beat, letting the sudden silence wash over him, a warmth blooming in his chest that settled into a gentle smile.
The kitchen was at the back of the castle, which meant Wonwoo got to walk around a bit before he left. Y/N led Wonwoo through a magnificent archway, stopping where a handsome older boy, Prince Jeonghan, was waiting.
“Brother!” Y/N announced, catching the attention of the young prince, “the bread is here!”
Jeonghan glanced at the basket, then his attention settled on Wonwoo, “and you are the one who bore this weight. You must be the baker's son.”
Wonwoo immediately lowered his gaze and bowed his head low. “Your Highness, Jeon Wonoo, at your service. It is my honor to deliver the order.”
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, noting Wonwoo’s polite deference and the ease with which he held the basked, which was clearly far heavier than the boy his age should carry without strain.
“An honor, you say?” Jeonghan mused, circling Wonwoo slowly. “Most children who visit the bakery simply take the coin. You seem quite humble to volunteer for the delivery.”
“I didn’t volunteer your highness,” Wonwoo admitted, “my father asked me to deliver the bread.”
Jeonghan waved a dismissive hand, “regardless. You show good strength for your age, better manners than most squires we currently employ, and you were honest with me instead of taking the credit for yourself.”
He paused, looking Wonwoo up and down. “I imagine the palace life is a world away from the village bakery. Tell me, Wonwoo, are you fond of horses?”
Wonwoo, still holding the basket in the middle of the hallway, looked up, surprised by the sudden shift in topic.
“I—I have only seen the royal horses from the edges of the stable yard, Your HIghness,” Wonwoo admitted, his voice soft. “But they are magnificent. My father always said a healthy horse is the kingdom's true wealth.”
Jeonghan gave a rare, sharp smile, “a practical outlook. Good. Our stable master is short on reliable hands, and a boy with strong arms and good manners is a valuable commodity. Tell me Wonwoo, how would you like to see that wealth up close? We are in need of bright, strong, lads for our stable service.” He gestured to the castle towering above them. “The opportunity is there. We would offer you a place as a Page, you would care for the royal mounts and run errands throughout the palace. It is hard work, but it offers a proper education and a future far greater than flour dust.”
Y/N’s eyes lit up with excitement, “say yes, Wonwoo! You can stay!”
Wonwoo looked from the Prince to the Princess, his head spinning with the weight of the proposal. He knew this was a monumental chance for his family. He bowed again, the bread basket dipping slightly, “if my parents agree, Your Highness, I would be honored to accept that position and serve.”
Prince Jeonghan was satisfied enough with the answer and nodded. He reached out, gently rubbing the tops of his sisters head, messing up her hair, and gave a brief, sharp smile before turning away and leaving the hallway, his footsteps echoing as he walked away.
Y/N immediately smoothed her hair down, ignoring her brother and turned to Wonwoo with a wide smile, “they will agree! This is wonderful, Wonwoo! We’ll see each other everyday!”
Wonwoo nodded, but didn’t say anything else. He knew that it would be hard for his parents to lose him at the bakery and wasn’t sure if they’d agree. He just let Y/N lead him to the kitchen and placed the bread basket on the table, looking around the room at all the food that was being prepared for the day.
“Would you like to stay for breakfast?” Y/N asked Wonwoo, noticing the hungry look in his eyes as he stared at the spread, but he shook his head and politely bowed.
“Thank you for the offer Your Highness, but I must get back to the bakery. Not only do I have a big decision to make, but I have some bread to prove.”
Y/N nodded her head in understanding, before smiling wide. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear your decision!”
Wonwoo offered her one final, quick bow before she led him back through the sprawling hallways and out to the front courtyard where the couch-man was waiting. He climbed into the carriage, the warmth of her smile still blooming in her chest. Knowing that tonight, his simple life as the bakers son was about to change forever.
As soon as the carriage pulled up to the bakery, his parents were waiting for him. He thanked the couch-man who had opened the door for him and slowly approached his parents, who had big smiles on their faces.
“So? How was the castle?” His father asked, as his mother reached out to hold his hand.
“It was nice,” he quietly responded, avoiding their eyes.
His mother squeezed his hand, sensing his sudden reserve, “only nice? You were gone for a while. Did something happen at the castle?”
Wonwoo took a deep breath, trying to be brave. He pulled his parents towards the front door, “could we go inside? I have to tell you something big,” he said, “while I was at the castle I ran into the prince.”
His father’s expression sharpened instantly at the mention of the prince, “the prince?” His father pressed, “What did he say? Did he have a message about the order?”
“He offered me a job,” Wonwoo explained, sitting down between them. “He said I could be a Page at the castle. I would help with the horses and run messages and they would teach me things.” He looked earnestly at his mother, “he said it was a chance to have a great future.”
Both his parents exchanged a shocked look, their faces betraying their astonishment. They had not expected such high regard to be shown toward their son.
“He was impressed that I could carry the bread basket at my age and said that I had good manners.”
His mother smiled warmly at the mention of her son’s kind heart. She sighed, and tenderly brushed some of his messy hair away from his eyes, taking a close, worried look at him. She knew that her son had a kind spirit and a loving heart. She was scared that the politics of the royal family would ruin him.
“What do you think about the offer, son?” His father asked, sitting down next to his mother and taking Wonwoo’s other hand, so they were connected in a tight circle.
Wonwoo sighed. He knew that his parents would miss him, but he really wanted to study and live in the castle.More than anything, he wanted to get to know the kind and lively spirit that was the princess. He looked up towards his mother and squeezed her hand.
“I want to go,” he stated, his voice quiet but a little firm.
His mother inhaled sharply, a single tear sliding down her cheek, but nodded in understanding. “Oh, my dear boy,” she murmured, squeezing his hand tightly. “We know you do. It’s a chance for you to see the world beyond our bakery door.”
His father squeezed his hand as well, his eyes fixed on the future. “It is an immense opportunity, Son. A gift the Jeon family could never buy,” he looked at his wife. “If we agree, we must set rules. He is only eight. We will insist on weekly visits, and we will insist they treat him fairly.”
“I won’t be alone,” Wonwoo said, looking up at them both, his eyes earnest. “The princess said she would see me everyday. She’ll look out for me.”
His parents looked at each other, the name of the Princess, cutting through their fear and striking at the core of the offer. They knew that the unlikely spark between the princess and their son was the very thing that made this impossible dream possible.
His mother sighed once more, before wiping the tears rolling down her eyes, before looking at her husband who nodded.
“Alright son,” his father said, his voice thick with pride and gravity. “You can be a Page in the castle.”
Wonwoo knew the castle was big from the distant view he had everyday, but he didn’t think it would be this big on the inside. The halls went up so high they almost touched the sky. The vast space gleamed with gold and marble, and every chamber felt like walking into a cold, beautiful treasure chest.
It felt like the opposite of the warm, cozy bakery he grew up in.
He was led up into one of the servants quarters in the east hall. His room was at the top of the tower, which meant he had to climb a lot of stairs every morning. But when he looked out, the view across the kingdom was truly beautiful.
He was given the morning to unpack his things and change into his new uniform. The simple, slightly rough fabric felt stiff and heavy compared to his soft cotton clothes from the bakery. When the time came, another Page, older and silent, led Wonwoo through the echoing stone corridors, down into the lower grounds and toward the immense Royal Stables. The air changed instantly, replacing the cold marble scent with the rich, earthy smells of hay, leather, and horses.
The Stable Master, a large, weathered named Lord, Baek, stood in the central yard, directing a flurry of activity. He did not look up when Wonwoo approached.
“Lord Baek, the new Page, Jeon Wonwoo,” the older Page stated curtly.
Lord Beak finally looked down, his gaze sharp and assessing. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t scowl.
“You are small,” Lord Beak said simply, his voice a low rumble. “And you are new. That means you listen, you do not talk, and you work twice as hard as everyone else. The palace does not pay us to make friends, boy.” He pointed to a large pile of intricate leather bridles piled in the corner. “Your first task: those bridles need cleaning and polishing until they shine like the Princess’s jewels. Then you will sort that pile of curry combs. I want the bronze separate from the steel. Go.”
Wonwoo immediately lowered his head. He knew this was not a place for smiles or softness.
“Yes, sir,” he replied quietly, already moving toward the dirty pile of bridles. He spent the whole rest of the day, even missing supper to finish the work Lord Baek had given him. Only eating when it was almost all the rest of the servants had gone to bed.
He hadn’t even seen the princess his first day, like the thought he would.
The next day was different, he learnt quickly that during the week he would attend school and then help in the stables after school and work purely in the stables during the weekend, leaving almost no time for leisure.
He would attend classes quickly, change and then work until he went to bed. It was the same thing everyday. It wasn’t until almost a month into living in the castle did he see the Princess.
He was making his way to the stables with a couple of horses when he heard her voice. It was bright and clear, cutting through the usual drone of the courtyard like a silver bell. He recognized the sound immediately.
"There you are, Wonwoo! I've been looking everywhere!"
He froze mid-step, causing the horses behind him to shuffle restlessly. He looked up, and there she was, walking towards him, in a fancy gown and flowers all throughout her hair, a clear sign that she had been in the garden. Her face lit up with a usual lively smile at the sight of him.
He immediately dropped his gaze and tried to bow as best as he could while still holding the reins.
“Your highness,” he said, “I apologize. I am still on duty.”
Y/N simply walked right up to him, entirely ignoring the horses and his formal bow.
“Duty? You look like you haven’t slept in a week! Don’t worry, I told Lord Beak I needed help finding the best apples for my pony, Cloud. Come on, I’m rescuing you.” She reached out a hand to take one of his reins, ready to pull him along.
Wonwoo smiled, thankful that he didn’t have to do chores right away. He sighed, and handed her one of the reins. The tension in his shoulders seemed to lift immediately.
Y/N beamed, now walking side-by-side with him, leading the horses away from the crowded stable yard and toward a sunny, secluded path near the royal orchards.
“What were you supposed to be doing right now?” Wonwoo asked softly, unable to help the smile in his voice.
She leaned toward him, lowering her voice so no adults could hear her. “Etiquette lessons with Madame Balm. She always makes me walk lines and corrects my posture even though my posture is perfect!”
Wonwoo chuckled, the sound slightly rusty from a month of hard work and silence. The idea of Y/N forced into rigid formality was both ridiculous yet familiar.
“Walking straight lines sounds terribly difficult,” he murmured, shaking his head.
She tightened her grip on the reins. “It’s a nightmare. But anyway, I haven't seen you around at all! Why did it take you so long to come find me? Did Lord Baek put you in the deepest part of the stables?”
Wonwoo sighed, he also was disappointed that he hadn’t had free time to do simple things like explore the castle or spend time with the princess.
“I’ve been busy from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep,” he explained, pulling the horses to a gentle stop near a large apple tree. “There is school, and then the stables. Everyday Lord Beak doesn't let us stop,” he looked at her then the smile gone, “I thought I would see you sooner.”
Y/N’s bright smile softened into an expression of immediate sympathy. She dropped the reins letting the horses graze freely, and turned fully toward him
“Oh Wonwoo,” she said gently, reaching out a hand to touch his sleeve, “I missed you too. I told you I would see you everyday, and I promise I’ll come to the barn to see you after you're done with school.”
The simple assurance was like warm balm after a month of cold stone and hard labor.
“You will?” he asked, the hole in his voice undeniable.
“Y/N nodded firmly, “every weekday. We can talk while you polish tack or muck stalls. We have to be quick, but we’ll be together. You need a friend here, and so do I.” She gave his sleeve a final squeeze before handing him a basket and turning toward the orchard. “Now, let’s go find those apples. Cloud will be crossed if he misses his snack.”
The simple, quiet ritual established from there became the fixed point in their lives. The early years were defined by shared secrets and easy comfort. Wonwoo polished the tack while Y/N read him chapters from grand adventure novels she was supposed to be studying.
Everyone in the castle found their relationship quite sweet, quite wholesome, seeing it as a lovely display of the Princess’s kind heart and the Page’s steadfast loyalty.
As they started to grow out of their childish features and into their blossoming young teenage years, the comfortable ease began to break down, replaced by a strange, charged awareness. The first big shift between them was when Wonwoo, now transitioning from Page to Squire, had a sudden growth spurt. He was no longer the small baker boy. His shoulders had broadened, and his hands, once small enough to fit inside hers, were now rough and large from endless drills with practice of swords and dealing with hard leather. Their interactions were less about childish games and more about unspoken emotions and feelings of discovery.
There was less time for them to work with horses and run around the gardens, and Princess Y/N could keenly feel the change between them. Instead of watching him clean the stables and helping with the horses, she would now watch him from the palace balcony. Below, he was training, his form becoming sharper, and she watched him make friendships with the older boys and men among him, who were quickly becoming his peers. The stables were no longer their private sanctuary; they were a training ground preparing him for a world she couldn't fully reach.
He had just finished a brutal evening training session and was scarfing down his supper in a quiet corner of the Squire's mess hall when she appeared.
“Are you having fun at least?” She asked Wonwoo, watching him chew quickly.
Wonwoo paused, holding a piece of bread mid-air. His face was smudged with dirt and sweat. He was exhausted, but he shook his head slightly.
“Fun isn’t what it’s for Your HIghness,” he replied, swallowing hard. “It is an honor. I need to be ready to protect your brother, and you, when the time comes.”
Y/N sighed, leaning her elbow on the table. She looked at his tired eyes and the determination etched onto his face. The playful boy she had rescued was now a soldier in training.
“I know it’s necessary, but you used to laugh more,” she murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t forget the simple things Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo quickly looked away from her, his gaze locking onto the rough wooden table. He was painfully aware of how close she was, how sweet the scent of her perfume was compared to the stink of sweat and steel clinging to him.
“I don’t forget anything your highness,” he said, his voice a little bit more playful. Trying to reassure her that the boy she once knew was still in there. “But the simple things don’t keep the castle safe. Duty comes first. Always.”
He deliberately avoided looking at her again, using his rigorous schedule as a shield to hide the truth. Every moment spent training, every drop of sweat, was purely for her sake. The duty was the only thing he was allowed to love.
Y/N huffed and stood up from the table, clearly frustrated at the sudden, cold distance he created. She didn’t want to cause an argument with her best friend. She leaned down quickly and pressed a sharp, quick kiss to his grimy cheek before turning and leaving the dining hall.
Wonwoo froze entirely, his fork clattering against the plate. The immediate shock was overwhelming. He looked up, but she was already gone, leaving him alone, heart hammering against his ribs, his duty almost completely forgotten in the face of her reckless affection.
Wonwoo’s sixteenth birthday was quiet, marked by the heavy anticipation of his final years as a Squire. By royal decree, he received a small ceremony in the yard where Prince Jeonghan presented him with a beautifully weighted, custom-fitted-sword, his first piece of truly good steel, a visible sign of his imminent knighthood. While the court cheered his merit, Y/N found him later that night in the armory, the heavy scent of metal and oil surrounding them.
She gave him no gift, but instead, she reached out and traced the sharp line of th new sword resting on his hip. Her touch, far more intimate than any metal, made him hold his breath. He knew his sixteenth year meant the line between them was hardening, he was closer than ever to become her official protector, a position that demanded he be nothing more, and everything less, than the boy she loved.
“Have you given it a name?” She asked, as Wonwooran his thumb lightly along the spine of the blade, careful to avoid the edge.
“No, Your Highness,” he replied. “It’s not mine yet. Not truly. Not until I’m sworn in.”
“But it will be yours,” Y/N insisted, his eyes fixed on the reflective metal. “And it will be the thing that keeps us safe. It deserves a name.”
He looked from the sword to her, and the protective, desperate love he felt for her was momentarily reflected in the cold steel.
“Celestra's Mark.” He said, after a few moments of thinking.
Y/N smiled, a quiet, knowing smile. “It suits you, Wonoo. It suits the shield you are becoming.” She reached out and ran a fingertip over the steel, a daring, silent acknowledgement of the sacrifice he was making for her home.
He quickly re-sheather the blade, the sound a sharp, final click in the quiet armory, marking the end of their sixteenth birthday moment and signaling the return to the strict boundaries they both observed.
He quickly re-sheathed the blade, the sound a sharp, final click in the quiet armory, marking the end of their sixteenth birthday moment and signaling the return to the strict boundaries they both observed.
“How’s Wonwoo’s training going?” Prince Jeonghan asked.
Y/N jumped, a small cry catching in her throat, at the sudden presence of her older brother. Her entire body recoiled, and her hand flew instantly to cover the sudden, frantic pounding of her heart beneath her gown. She took a sharp, necessary breath to regain control.
“Brother! You startled me,” she managed, turning to face him from her balcony she was watching Wonwoo from. “I didn’t hear you come in. Why are you sneaking around?”
Jeonghan raised a skeptical eyebrow at her obvious shock.
“I wasn’t sneaking, Y/N. You were simply daydreaming. You shouldn’t look so guilty when asked about my top Squire,” he jested, his gaze lingering on her flushed cheeks. He walked to the railing and followed her gaze down to the training yard. “Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental about the baker’s boy?”
Y/N whipped her head around to scowl at her brother before smacking him lightly on the shoulder.
“Don’t call him that, Jeonghan. You know he’s going to be Knight Wonwoo soon,” she retorted, though her cheeks remained pink. She adjusted the fabric of her sleeve, gathering her composure. “His training is excellent, he is ready for his oath next month, isn’t he? Even Lord Baek admitted he’s the sharpest they’ve had.”
Jeonghan smiled, pleased by the quick defense and the confirmation of Wonwoo’s skill.
“He’s the sharpest, which is why I’m making sure he protects what matters most. Once he’s knighted, he won’t be mine. I”ve assigned him to you, Y/N. KNight Wonwoo will be your personal guard. Which, speaking of the future, is why I came looking for you.” He turned, the playful smile fading, signaling the shift to official business.
He leaned against the cold stone railing, his eyes fixed on the distant peaks of the kingdom.
“The political envoys arrived late this morning from the Northern March.” Jeonghan took a long, heavy breath. “The alliance is confirmed, Y/N. You are formally engaged to Prince Mingyu. The betrothal will be announced next month, and the wedding will take place when you both come of age.”
The simple announcement, delivered without fanfare, landed in the quiet afternoon like a shattering pane of glass. Below them, Wonwoo was practicing a flawless disarming maneuver, the first knight assigned to guard his Princess and her new fiancé, completely unaware that the duty he was training for was about to destroy the only thing he truly cared for.
“No,” she whispered, the denial a desperate, raw sound. “No, you can’t - I won’t”
Her composure was utterly fractured. She let out a frustrated, wounded cry, a loud, immature sound completely inappropriate for a Princess, and shoved past Jeonghan, he silks catching on the railing. She didn’t bother with the proper entrance, instead hiking up her skirts and bolting from the balcony entrance, her footsteps echoing loudly down the stone corridor in a frantic dash to escape.
Down below, in the middle of a perfect disarming drill, Wonwoo stopped. The jarring sound of the Princess's unmistakable cry and the panicked rush of her footsteps had cut through the focused chaos of the training yard. He looked up instantly, following the sound to the East Hall balcony. He didn't see the reason, but he clearly saw Prince Jeonghan standing alone at the rail, looking grieved and defeated, and he saw a flash of the Princess's distinctive blue skirt disappearing rapidly into the castle interior. Something was terribly wrong.
Y/N ran without caring who saw her or how undignified she looked. Tears steamed down her face, blurring the marble halls as she raced toward the seclusion of her private chambers. The words formally engaged to Prince Mingyu run in her ears and slammed into her mind, suffocating her. This wasn’t a choice, it was a decree. The cold duty she had always feared had finally snatched her future. She only wanted the comfort of her home, the one she had found in the stables with Wonwoo, but now that home felt impossible far away.
Hours later, long after the curfew bells had sounded and the last of the squires were asleep, Wonwoo crept out of his quarters. He ignored the aching fatigue from his training and followed a familiar, shadowed route through the silent castle grounds. His destination was the stables, the only place he could think she might retreat when the palace felt too large and cold.
He found her exactly where he expected: huddled on a bale of hay in front of her horse Cloud’s stall, the smell of the clean straw a stark contrast of the despair across her face. She was not crying, but her shoulders we slumped and her face was drawnb, illuminated only by the faint silver light spilling in from the high stable windows.
Wonwoo didn’t speak a formal greeting. He simply sat down beside her, the movement quiet and deliberate. The cold hilt of Celestra’s Mark pressed against his hip, a silent reminder of the position that now separated him from her pain.
“Your Highness,” he said softly, his voice barely a murmur, and turned his head to look at her. “What happened this afternoon? What made you run?”
Y/N didn’t lift her head. She picked nervously at a loose piece of straw.
“It doesn’t matter, Wonwoo. It’s palace business,” she mumbled, attempting to push him away from the formal tern.
“It matters to me,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “I saw you run. And I know the difference between palace business and when my Princess is truly hurting.” He waited, allowing the quiet space to fill with the steady breathing of the horses and placed his hand on top of hers a gesture that shattered the distance between them.
Y/N finally lifted her head, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. She didn’t pull her hand away.
“They did it, Wonwoo,” she whispered, her voice cracking, the grip on his hand tightening. “The alliance is confirmed. I am formally betrothed to Prince Mingyu.They said the wedding will be when we come of age. They just sentenced me to years of waiting for a life I don’t want.”
The words Prince Mingyu hit Wonwoo with the force of a solid steel blow. His meticulously constructed inner world, the one built on the fragile hope that his silent dedication would somehow earn him a future near her, shattered instantly.
His breath stopped in his chest. His training, honed over a decade, forced him to remain physically still, but internally, panic seized him. Betrothed. He, her assigned personal guard, had just been sentenced to stand beside her, day in and day out, while she belonged to another man. Celestra's Mark, the sword of his honor, felt suddenly heavy and cold, a permanent weight of irony pressing against his side. The irony was a cruel joke: he had worked tirelessly to earn the right to protect her, only to find that his first and most sacred duty was to escort her to the man she was forced to marry. His grip on her hand tightened involuntarily, not in comfort, but in a momentary, silent plea.
His breath stopped in his chest, but his training forced him to remain physically still. His grip on her hand tightened involuntarily, a momentary, silent plea before he forced his features into the neutral mask of the Squire. He released her hand slowly, pulling back only inches, but the distance felt like miles.
“This is why I must be knighted next month, Your Highness,” he said, his voice low and utterly devoid of emotion, though his heart was hammering a furious rhythm against his ribs. He deliberately focuses on the duty, the only thing he was allowed to acknowledge. “It is necessary for the stability of the crown. It is necessary for the safety of Hesperos.”
He lifted his hand, not to reach for her, but to gently touch the hilt of his sword.
“But I swear to you this,” he continued, his eyes finally meeting hers, intense and burning with a controlled fire. “Until the day they bind you to him, and for every moment after, you will never be alone. I am your shield. I will guard your happiness even if it means sacrificing mine.”
The sheer weight of the unofficial oath hung heavy in the stable air. Y/N watched his face, searching for any flicker of the boy who used to share her forbidden sweets, but saw only the frigid determination of the future knight.
“Wonwoo..” she began, her voice ran, reaching out to him again, perhaps intending to ask the question of their shared past that they both had always avoided.
But Wonwoo didn’t let her finish. He knew that one more word, one more touch, would shatter his discipline he had spent years on, that he needed to survive the years ahead. He quickly stood up, his movements stiff and practiced.
“I must go, Your Highness,” he said, the formality of the title now sounding like a deliberate, painful barrier. “I have an early morning training session, and I cannot be found here.”
He gave her a quick, deep, formal bow. The bow of a future guard, not a friend, and without another word, he turned and melted back into the shadows. He did not look back, even as his heart screamed in protest. He left her sitting alone on the hay bale, holding the cold, empty space where his hand had been, acutely aware that the silence he left behind was the sound of their fate sealing shut.
Two years passed in an agonizing, slow motion defined by duty and proximity. Wonwoo, now eighteen, was no longer a youth. He was a disciplined warrior, lean and stoic, prepared for the oath that would officially bind him to the crown.
Bind him to her.
For the past two years, his life had been a singular exercise in control. The memory of Y/N’s tearful face and the unspoken desperation of their final meeting in the stables fueled his training.
He had mastered the Knight’s Oath and the use of Celestra’s Mark, going over every rule of honor and servitude until his emotions were buried beneath the hard, cold surface of military perfection. He had to be perfect because he was now bound to the Princess in a daily, professional capacity, forced to witness the life he couldn’t have.
Meanwhile, Prince Mingyu had become a fixture at the court. He was everything a future King Consort should be: handsome, genuinely kind, and popular within the court and the people. Crucially he was good with Y/N.
Y/N and Mingyu’s betrothal was treated as a gentle, long-term courtship. They spent time together formally. Attending state dinners, riding, and sharing lessons. Mingyu was attentive and funny, clearly enjoying her company.
Y/N was unfailing courteous to Mingyu, fulfilling her duty, but her heart had not shifted. She still sought out the quiet comfort of Wonwoo’s presence whenever their duties overlapped, replying to his silent understanding, but it killed Wonwoo.
He was always there. Standing two steps behind her as she laughed at Mingyu’s jokes, watching her hand brush Mingyu’s arm, and witnessing the natural ease of a relationship that was publicly accepted. He had to suppress every jealous instinct and every desperate desire, knowing that his primary duty was to ensure the safety and happiness of the man who would take his princess.
“What do you mean you don’t want me there at your knighting ceremony?” She had quietly pleaded, trying not to cause any attention between them in the halls of the servants quarters.
It was almost midnight and if they were seen together, punishment would be brutal. So being quiet was crucial.
“I mean that you have previous commitments to the prince at the time of my ceremony,” Wonwoo sighed, hating the tears slowly falling down her cheeks. “I will ask sir Baek to attend with you in my absence.”
“But I don’t want Sir Baek.”
“I cannot miss my own knighting ceremony,” Wonwoo scoffed.
“Then I will miss the tea ceremony,” Y/N pushed back, trying to step closer to the almost knight. Wonwoo shook his head and held out an arm to push her back slightly.
“We both know you cannot. Your parents would be furious.”
“They should be. They knew your ceremony was tomorrow, why did they have to schedule it on the same day?”
Wonwoo sighed, and allowed himself to have one selfish act of affection towards you. He raised his hand and gently cupped her cheek, wiping the tears falling down her cheeks.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But you cannot miss the tea ceremony.”
Y/N wheeped, but didn’t try to argue more. Instead she leaned into his touch a little bit, allowing him to cup her other cheek. “Promise me that you’ll re-inact the entire thing once I get back?”
Wonwoo chuckled at the request. Only she would ask him such things, but reluctantly agreed by shaking his head. “I’ll skip the nonsense and just show you the badge.”
Y/N gasped and pulled away from him, watching him laugh some more. “You will do no such thing Wonwoo!”
Wonwoo just smiled and watched as she wiped away a few of her own tears before trying her best to put on a smile for him.
The smile that could make twelve hours of training worth it.
The smile that he would kill for.
The smile that saved him from a life of bread and baking.
The smile he loved.
He still thought about how weird it was being in front of the whole royal family and not having her present.
It was ironic. The person he was swearing to protect wasn’t even here.
Prince Jeonghan was the one knighting him, he was the one he was giving his oath to when it should have been the princess.
His princess.
His parents were at the ceremony. It had been almost a month since he had last seen them, and the prince was kind enough to allow them to spend the rest of the day together after the ceremony.
His mother was crying the whole entire ceremony and his father had been standing beside her with a proud look on his face.
The day of the knighting ceremony arrived. The cathedral was packed, the air thick with incense and the sound of solemn music. Wonwoo knelt before Prince Jeonghan, the active royal authority for the ceremony, wearing the heavy formal armor, the weight of the steel a physical manifestation of his sacrifice.
He still thought about how strange it was being here in front of the whole royal court without the Princess present in the royal box.
It was bitterly ironic.
The entire reason he had pushed himself, the person he was truly swearing to protect, wasn’t here at this pivotal moment. Prince Jeonghan was the one administering the oath, the one he was dedicating himself to, when in his heart, that commitment belonged to his Princess.
He found solace only in the sight of his own family. His parents were seated near the front, guests of the royal family for the day. His mother was quietly crying the whole entire ceremony, utterly overwhelmed with pride, while his father stood beside her, his face set in a proud, unwavering expression. It had been almost a month since he had last seen them, and Prince Jeonghan had been kind enough to allow them to spend the rest of the day together after the ceremony.
Prince Jeonghan’s voice boomed as he placed the blunt side of a ceremonial sword, the King's own great sword, on Wonwoo’s shoulder.
“Do you swear loyalty to the Crown of Celestra, upholding its laws, its alliances, and its sovereign lines, with Honor as your sole guide?”
Wonwoo met Prince Jeonghan’s eyes, his resolve absolute.
“I swear,” Wonwoo affirmed, his voice ringing clearly through the cathedral.
The final pronouncement was made, the assembly cheered, and the heavy ceremonial robes were swiftly replaced with his new, bespoke knight's uniform. Celestra's Mark, his sword of honor, felt balanced and light on his hip, despite the immense weight of the oath he had just taken.
As the cathedral began to empty, Prince Jeonghan gave him a respectful nod, releasing him. Wonwoo moved immediately toward the section where his family waited.
His mother, dressed in her best Sunday clothes, rushed forward. She didn't bow or curtsy; she simply enveloped him in a fierce, tearful hug, pressing her cheek against the cold steel of his shoulder plate.
“Oh, my beautiful, clever boy,” she wept quietly into his uniform. “You did it. You are a Knight.”
Wonwoo hugged her back fiercely, inhaling the comforting scent of baked dough and lavender that always clung to her. For a moment, he wasn't Knight Wonwoo, sworn protector of the Princess; he was just her son.
His father approached, a man of quiet strength whose own rough hands had shaped hundreds of loaves of bread. He didn't embrace Wonwoo, but instead placed a large, calloused hand on his newly armored shoulder, right where the King's sword had touched him.
“Honor,” his father said, his voice thick with pride. “That is the only thing we ever asked you to carry, son. Carry it well.”
Wonwoo nodded, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.
“I will, Father,” he promised, his voice regaining the steady confidence of his rank. “Always.”
He pulled back, smiling at them both, knowing that their pride was the one shield he was truly glad to carry.
Wonwoo pulled back, smiling at them both, knowing that their pride was the one shield he was truly glad to carry.
They settled at a small, reserved table in a quiet corner of the outer hall, where the noise of the main celebration couldn’t reach them. His mother fussed over his untouched plate of food, while his father sipped water, still watching him with that look of intense pride.
“And the Princess, Wonwoo?” his mother asked softly, resting a hand on his forearm. “Is she well? We heard she has been... very busy with state duties this past year. You two still spend time together, yes?”
The question was innocent, delivered with the easy familiarity of someone asking after a well-loved niece. Wonwoo felt a sharp, internal twist.
“The Princess is excellent, Mother,” he replied, his tone immediately defaulting to the cool, formal respect required of his rank. “As her personal guard, my duty is now to ensure her safety at all times. I am constantly near her, though our interactions are strictly professional.”
His father frowned slightly at the formality. “Professional? What happened to the young lady who used to quiz you on your lessons? I trust the steel hasn't made you forget your manners, son.”
“No, Father,” Wonwoo murmured, avoiding their eyes and focusing on slicing his food with precise, stiff movements. “Her Highness is betrothed to Prince Mingyu now, and my position requires absolute discretion and honor. She is the future of Celestra. I am simply her shield.”
Both of his parents gave each other a knowing look, a silent agreement passing between them not to push any further to upset him. They sensed the rigid, painful distance he had put up around himself. They understood duty, but they didn’t understand the price he was paying for it.
Prince Mingyu was always kind towards Y/N. He never treated her like a possession or a political prize, but rather as a friend he genuinely respected. In the long two years since their formal betrothal, he had come to understand the sad truth of their union.
He knew that she wasn’t in love with him.
This awareness didn’t make him cruel or resentful. Instead, it lent his patience and courtesy a layer of profound maturity. He valued her well-being above their alliance, a face that only deepened the quiet agony for both Y/N and the knight sworn to protect them.
Which is precisely how Mingyu knew that something was wrong with Y/N quickly into the tea ceremony.
She was performing her required courtesies flawlessly, speaking the correct diplomatic language, offering measured smiles, and accepting the exquisite gifts from the Northern March delegation with grace. Yet, Mingyu noticed the minute details.
The way her gaze drifting past the delegates to fix on the reflection of the silver tray before quickly snapping back. She was present, but her mind was clearly elsewhere.
He waited until there was a lull in the ceremony before saying anything.
“Are you alright?” He asked, making sure that the other occupants of the ceremony were busy and not interacting with them.
“Pardon?” Y/N asked, her gaze unfocused for a beat too long.
Mingyu leaned closer, his expression earnest.
“Your hands are shaking,” he whispered, eyes quickly darting down to her shaking hands. “If you need air, I can excuse us. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Y/N felt a fresh wave of despair. It wasn’t the political pressure, it was the unbearable weight of not being there for her best friend. She looked at Mingyu’s kind, concerned face, the man who was trying so hard, and the guilt that she had forced Wonwoo into this impossible, painful position crushed her. She had to deny her reality to the one man who sincerely wished her well.
“It’s nothing, Prince Mingyu,” she replied, forcing a brief, brittle smile. “Just the tediousness of the negotiations. I assure you, I am perfectly well.”
Mingyu sighed, a soft and heavy sound that seemed to carry the wright of both their roles, and nodded his head slowly. In that single gesture, he acknowledge the unspoken truth of her heart without judgement or resentment. He wasn’t just a prince at that moment, he was a man who saw the bars or the cafe they were both trapped in.
With a determined look in his eyes, he began trying to plan an escape for them both, his mind already working though ways to slip away from the prying eyes of the delegates and the stifling atmosphere of the embassy. He knew they couldn’t run forever, but for her, and for his own peace, he was willing to find a way to claim even just a few hours of freedom from the suffocating demands of the crown.
Mingyu moved with a calculated grace, guiding Y/N back toward the interior of the hallway rather than the main ballroom. He knew the embassy's layout well enough to know that the servants’ corridors and the garden exits were currently unguarded, as all security was focused on the front gates and the main reception hall. With a quick, conspiratorial wink, he draped his heavy traveling cloak over her shoulders, effectively hiding her shimmering dress and the royal crest of Celestra. As they reached the heavy wooden door, Mingyu paused, his hand on the iron latch. He looked back at Y/N, the moonlight catching the determined set of his jaw. He wasn't just giving her a few hours of peace; he was risking a minor diplomatic scandal to ensure she didn't break under the weight of her own crown.
“Once we step through this door, we aren’t royals,” he whispered, the cold air turning his breath into a white mist. “Just for tonight, Y/N. No princess, no fiancé, no duty. Just two people walking in the snow.”
Y/N felt a surge of genuine gratitude. For the first time in years, the crushing pressure in her chest eased. She reached out and took his hand, not out of duty, but out of a shared need for air. As the door creaked open, they stepped out into the night, leaving the world of politics and silent knights behind them, if only for a moment.
Once they were alone, Mingyu didn't push or accuse. He simply leaned against the cool stone railing, respecting the space between them.
“I know it wasn’t the tediousness of the negotiations,” he said softly, turning to face her. “You are far too composed for that. Please, Y/N. Tell me what is weighing so heavily on your heart.”
Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, watching the frost gleam on the sculpted bushes below. The air was crisp and clean, offering a small reprieve from the stifling political atmosphere.
“You are too kind, Mingyu,” she murmured, the sincerity in her voice making her throat tight. “That kindness is why this is so difficult.”
She didn’t dare speak Wonwoo’s name, but the heavy implication hung between them. Mingyu already understood.
“Is it still difficult because of the distance?” he asked, his voice low and sympathetic. “Because of what you had to leave behind in Celestra? I never asked you to forget your past, only to share the future with me.”
Y/N finally met his eyes, her own filled with guilt and sorrow.
“I am fighting every day to be the Princess Celestra needs,” she confessed, her voice barely a breath. “But I cannot help but feel like I am giving up some part of myself to do so. Prince Mingyu…. You deserve someone who doesn’t feel like they are breaking just to stand beside you.”
She saw the hurt and confusion in his eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to explain the true source of her fractured heart. Instead, she quickly recovered, forcing a brief, brittle smile.
Mingyu nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than protocol allowed. He was trying to understand, searching her expression for the piece of the puzzle she was clearly withholding. He wasn't a fool; he could hear the finality in her tone, the way she spoke of their union as if it were a sentence rather than a beginning.
"I understand duty," he said softly, his hand retreating from the railing but his presence remaining heavy beside her. "But I do not wish to be another burden you have to carry, Y/N. If standing beside me feels like breaking, then we are starting on a very fragile foundation."
The Northern March delegates laughed at a joke across the table, the sound jarringly loud against the quiet tension between the Prince and Princess. Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the snow falling, terrified that if she looked up, he would see the truth, not just that she didn't want him, but that her heart had already been given to someone else.
Mingyu straightened his posture, shifting back into his role as the perfect diplomat as the delegates turned their attention back toward them. He didn't push her further, but the concern hadn't left his eyes.
"The Court Dance begins shortly," he murmured, his voice returning to a formal, neutral tone for the benefit of their audience. "Perhaps the movement will help settle your nerves. I would be honored if you would grant me the first set."
The following days were not filled with the frantic energy of the ceremony, leaving a hollow silence in the private royal gardens. Y/N walked the stone path alone, her fingers trailing over the dew-covered hedges. The heavy silks of the ceremony had been traded for a simpler gown, but the weight of her check remained unchanged. She stopped at the edge of the fountain, watching her own distorted image in the water.
The conversation with Mingyu still echoed in her mind. She had seen the way he looked at her, not with cold calculation of the Council, but with a genuine desire to be the partner she needed. It made the lie heel even more jagged. Every step toward the wedding felt like a step further away from herself, a slow erasure of the woman she used to be before the needs of the kingdom became a cage.
A soft rustle of gravel nearby signaled that her solitude was coming to an end. She turned, her shoulders instinctively tensing for another diplomatic confrontation, but the air in her lungs finally felt light again when she saw Wonwoo.
He was standing a respectful distance away, his expression calm and his posture as steady as the ancient stone walls of the palace. He didn't offer a platitude or a royal greeting; he simply stood there, a quiet anchor in the midst of her internal chaos. Seeing him, the one person who knew the woman behind the title, the suffocating weight of the crown seemed to lift just enough for her to breathe. The brittle, defensive mask she had been wearing since the night before finally softened, and for a fleeting moment, she didn't feel like a Princess fighting for Celestra. She just felt like herself.
“How did you find me?” She asked, looking back to the fountain, not wanting him to see the slight flush on her cheeks.
“You forget my lady, that it is my job to know where you are at all times of the day,” Wonwoo replied, his voice carrying a rare, light trace of amusement. There was a faint, teasing ghost of a smile on his lips that she usually only saw when the palace was fast asleep. It was a subtle, joking tone. One that reminded her he wasn’t just a shield in polished armor, but the person who knew her better than anyone else.
The small smile on his lips didn’t last long; as he stepped closer, his keen eyes swept over her, noting the tension in her shoulders that even the morning air couldn't melt away. The joking tone vanished, replaced by the quiet, intense focus he reserved only for her.
“The levity doesn’t suit the look in your eyes, my lady,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a more private register. He moved to stand near the edge of the fountain, his gaze following hers to the dancing water. “Something happened during the ceremony. Your composure was... different. What is bothering you?”
Y/N felt the familiar urge to deflect, to give him the same brittle smile she had given Mingyu. But with Wonwoo, the lie always felt heavier. He didn't just see the Princess; he saw the girl who was terrified of losing herself.
"Mingyu noticed," she admitted, her voice so low it was almost lost to the splashing water. "He saw my hands shaking. He offered me a way out, and it only made the guilt worse. He’s a good man, Wonwoo. That’s what’s bothering me. He is a good man, and I am standing there lying to him with every breath I take."
Wonwoo’s expression shifted, a shadow of pain crossing his features at the mention of Mingyu’s kindness. For a long moment, the only sound was the rhythmic splashing of the fountain. Then, defying every rule etched into his training since the day he was knighted, he took a step forward, closing the gap that protocol demanded he maintain.
He didn’t just stand behind her as a shadow. Instead, he reached out, his hand hesitating for a fraction of a second before his fingers brushed against hers. He gently took her hand, the one that had been trembling during the ceremony, and folded his palm over it. The leather of his glove was cool, but the pressure was firm and grounding.
“Then stop looking at him as the Prince of a rival house, and stop looking at yourself as a piece of a treaty,” he whispered, his voice thick with a sudden, raw honesty. He didn't pull his hand away, even though a single wandering eye from the palace windows could cost him his position. “You are not a lie, Y/N. You are a woman being asked to carry the weight of an entire world on your back. If you cannot be honest with him, at least be honest with me. You don't have to be the Princess of Celestra within these four walls.”
The touch was a silent rebellion, a brief erasure of the line between a knight and his sovereign. For that heartbeat, they weren't a political tragedy in the making; they were simply two people holding onto each other in the quiet of a fading dawn.
Y/N didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she turned her palm upward, lacing her fingers with his as if anchoring herself to the only real thing left in her life. The cool morning air bit at her skin, but where their hands met, there was a heat that made the rest of the world feel distant and blurred.
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his for a sign of the same fracture she felt in herself. “And what if being honest with you is the most dangerous thing of all?” she whispered. “Every time I look at you, I remember exactly who I am, and exactly what I have to give up to keep this kingdom whole.”
Wonwoo didn’t flinch. His grip tightened almost imperceptibly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand in a slow, rhythmic motion that felt like a silent vow. The distance between them had vanished, and in the stillness of the garden, she could see the golden flecks in his eyes and the way his jaw was set in a hard line of restrained emotion.
“Then let it be dangerous,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Let the world fall apart outside this garden. For once, just once, don’t worry about the Council or the Prince or the peace. Just stay here. Just breathe.”
For a long, suspended moment, the political machinery of Celestra ceased to exist. There were no impending weddings, no trade routes, and no heavy crowns. There was only the sound of their shared breath and the terrifying, beautiful realization that the person she was supposedly "giving up" was most alive when she was standing right here, in the shadow of the man who was never supposed to touch her hand.
The air between them seemed to vanish as the silence grew heavy, charged with years of unspoken words and shared glances. Y/N looked up at him, her heart hammering against her ribs, not with the cold anxiety of the palace halls, but with a desperate, frantic longing.
Wonwoo’s gaze dropped to her lips, his breath hitching. The logic of the knight, the duty to the crown, and the fear of the Council all seemed to dissolve in the pale morning light. He moved slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, to remember her station, to be the Princess again. But she didn't move
She leaned in, closing the final inch of the distance that had felt like a chasm for far too long. When his lips finally met hers, it wasn't the polished, formal grace of a royal courtship. It was a collision of relief and suppressed grief. It was the taste of a secret they had both been dying to tell, a soft and tentative touch that quickly deepened into something more certain. His free hand came up to rest against the side of her neck, his thumb grazing her jawline, holding her as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded.
For that one moment, the wedding to Mingyu felt like a ghost story from a distant land. There was no Celestra, no Northern March, and no duty. There was only the warmth of him, the scent of the garden, and the terrifyingly beautiful reality of a love that could never be spoken of in the light of day.
Wonwoo let out a sharp, ragged breath against her skin, the instinct of a soldier suddenly warring with the hunger of a man. The reality of their situation seemed to crash back into him, and he began to pull away, his hands sliding from her waist to her shoulders to create distance. He was the protector, the one meant to keep her safe from the very scandal they were currently creating.
But Y/N wasn’t ready to let the world back in.
As he retreated, she stepped forward, her hands tangling in the heavy fabric of his tunic to pull him back. She chased his lips, refusing to let the warmth vanish, her movements desperate and unyielding. She didn't want the safety he offered; she wanted the fire that only he could provide.
A low, pained sound caught in Wonwoo’s throat as he felt her persistence. His resolve, built over years of rigid discipline, crumbled in the face of her touch. His hands moved from her shoulders to her face, his fingers threading through her hair as he stopped retreating and met her with an intensity that matched her own.
For a few breathless seconds, he stopped being her guard and simply became hers. He kissed her with a ferocity that spoke of every time he had been forced to stand three paces behind her, every time he had watched her smile at Mingyu, and every night he had spent patrolling her door knowing he could never enter.
It was a beautiful moment, fueled by the knowledge that every second they spent like this was a betrayal of the crown she wore, and the life they were both expected to lead.
Finally, it was Y/N who pulled back, though only by an inch. Her breath came in short, jagged hitches, the heat of the kiss still burning on her lips. She didn't let him go completely; her hands remained anchored to his chest, feeling the frantic, heavy thud of his heart beneath the heavy fabric of his uniform.
Wonwoo stood perfectly still, his eyes dark and clouded with a mixture of adoration and agony. He didn't try to step back again, nor did he reach for her. He simply waited, his head bowed slightly, yielding entirely to her. In this quiet corner of the garden, the power dynamic of the court had inverted. He wasn't the guard commanding her safety, and he wasn't the soldier following a vow; he was a man placing his entire existence in her hands, waiting for her to decide what happened next.
He was giving her the control, the one thing she never had in the council rooms or at the tea ceremonies. If she told him to leave, he would disappear into the shadows. If she told him to stay, he would burn the world down to keep her.
Y/N looked up at him, her fingers curling into the embroidery of his tunic. For the first time, the silence between them didn't feel like a burden. It felt like a choice. She could see the vulnerability in the set of his shoulders, the way he was breathing only when she did, completely attuned to her next move.
"You're not going to stop me?" she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of the moment.
"I am yours to command, my lady," Wonwoo murmured, his voice rough and low. "In this, and in everything else. If this is what you want... I have no will to fight you."
Y/N blushed, but before she could say anything the heavy, metallic thud of the Great Terrace doors echoing across the stone gallery acted like a bucket of ice water. The spell shattered instantly.
Wonwoo was the first to react, his soldier’s instincts overriding his heartbeat. He stepped back with a sharp, fluid movement, putting the required three paces of distance between them before Y/N had even fully processed the sound. By the time the heavy doors creaked open and the rhythmic click of heels on marble grew louder, he had already straightened his tunic and clasped his hands behind his back, his expression smoothing into a mask of professional indifference.
Y/N turned toward the fountain, her heart still racing so violently she was sure the approaching attendants would hear it. She frantically smoothed her skirts and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her lips still tingling from the pressure of his.
“Princess? Your father is requesting your presence in the solar for the finalization of the wedding guest list.”
The voice of a young page reached them, followed shortly by the boy himself as he rounded the hedge. He stopped and bowed low, oblivious to the fact that he had walked into the aftermath of a quiet revolution.
“I am coming,” Y/N managed to say, her voice steadier than she expected, though she didn't dare look back at Wonwoo yet.
As she began to walk toward the terrace, she passed Wonwoo. For a split second, their eyes met, a flash of raw, shared memory that burned through their masks. He bowed his head as she passed, the perfect picture of a loyal, stoic guard, but the slight tension in his jaw told her everything she needed to know.
The three years leading up to Y/N’s wedding changed everything, even if they never spoke about it. That morning in the garden was still there, hanging between them like a secret they both remembered but never dared to bring up. To talk about the kiss would mean admitting they had broken the rules, so they just lived with the memory of it, letting it sit in the silence of every room they shared.
In those three years, Wonwoo grew into a man who didn't need words to understand her. He became a master of noticing the small things that everyone else missed. He knew that when she was stressed about the wedding, she would twist the ring on her finger until her skin was red, and he’d quietly step into her line of sight to catch her eye and keep her grounded. He noticed that she hated the heavy, suffocating scent of the lilies the Queen favored, so he would make sure the windows in her sitting room were cracked open just enough to let in the fresh air before she arrived.
For Y/N, Wonwoo was the only person who actually saw her. She noticed how he always seemed to know when she had a headache, standing in a way that blocked the harsh glare of the sun from her desk. She watched him change, too, his shoulders got broader, his face more serious, and his protective streak grew even stronger. He didn't have to say anything for her to know he was looking out for her. Every time he handed her a cloak before she felt a chill, or stepped closer when a stranger got too near, it was his way of staying close to her without breaking the silence they had maintained since they were fifteen.
Despite the fact that her wedding to Mingyu was now only weeks away, they continued their quiet routine. They were experts at pretending they were just a Princess and her guard, but the way Wonwoo noticed every small change in her mood said otherwise. He was still the person who knew her best, even if they had to act like that kiss in the garden had never happened.
The training grounds were thick with the scent of kicked-up dust and oiled leather as Wonwoo and Mingyu circled each other. Now at twenty one, both men had grown into their frames; Mingyu with the broad-shouldered, effortless grace of a future king, and Wonwoo with the lean, lethal efficiency of a high-tier guard. The clash of their practice swords echoed against the stone walls, a rhythmic, violent dance that usually ended in a draw.
"You're distracted," Wonwoo remarked, his voice steady even as he parried a heavy blow from Mingyu’s blade. He didn't wait for a response before stepping into Mingyu’s space, forcing him to adjust. "Your footwork is sloppy on the left. You’re overextending because you’re tired."
Mingyu laughed, a short, breathless sound as he wiped sweat from his brow. "Maybe. The wedding preparations are exhausting. My father has me reviewing trade routes until dawn." He lunged again, but Wonwoo deflected the strike with a flick of his wrist. "But how would you know? I thought I was hiding the fatigue well enough."
"You are," Wonwoo said, his eyes focused and sharp. "But you’re moving the same way the Princess does when she’s had a long night of council meetings. You both get a slight tension in your shoulder, the right one. It makes your strikes heavy but slow."
Mingyu stopped mid-swing, his sword dropping an inch. He tilted his head, looking at Wonwoo with a sudden, piercing curiosity. The silence on the field stretched out, suddenly heavy.
"The right shoulder?" Mingyu repeated, his tone thoughtful. "I've known her since we were children, and I never noticed that. I didn't even know she had a tell when she was tired. She usually just hides behind that perfect, icy smile."
Wonwoo realized his mistake instantly. The "little things" he had spent three years cataloging were supposed to be his private map of her, not something he shared with her fiancé. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, his expression smoothing back into a mask of professional neutrality.
"It is my job to notice," Wonwoo said, though the words felt hollow in his own ears. "A guard who doesn't recognize when his charge is fatigued is a guard who misses a threat. She hides it well from the court, but she can't hide it from the person standing three paces behind her for twelve hours a day."
Mingyu didn't go back to the sparring stance. He sheathed his practice blade and stepped closer, his gaze searching Wonwoo’s face. "You notice a lot, Wonwoo. You knew her favorite tea yesterday before she even asked for it. You moved her chair away from the draft in the solar without her saying a word. You seem to know her better than I do, and I’m the one she’s supposed to marry."
Mingyu didn't reach for his sword again. Instead, he leaned against a wooden training post, watching Wonwoo with a look that was more analytical than angry. There was no heat in his eyes, but there was a new, sharp focus, the kind a hunter uses when he realizes he’s been looking at a map upside down.
"It’s more than just the shoulder, isn't it?" Mingyu asked, his voice dropping to a conversational level that felt far too intimate for the middle of a training field. "Yesterday, at the banquet, she started to reach for the wine, but you swapped her glass for water before her fingers even touched the stem. You knew she had a headache before she’d even admitted it to herself."
Wonwoo felt a cold pull of dread in his stomach, but he kept his posture rigid. "The Princess is prone to migraines when the hall is too crowded, Prince Mingyu. I was simply anticipating a need to keep her present for the toast."
"And the way you stand?" Mingyu continued, ignoring the excuse. He stepped toward Wonwoo, circling him slowly, much like they had been doing during the spar. "You don't just stand behind her. You stand for her. You adjust your position based on the sun to keep her in the shade. You move when she breathes. It’s almost like you’re wired to her."
Mingyu stopped in front of him, looking Wonwoo straight in the eye. There was no malice in his expression, Mingyu wasn't a cruel man, but there was a dawning realization that he was stepping into a space that was already occupied by someone else.
"I’ve spent three years trying to learn her favorite colors and her favorite poets," Mingyu said with a faint, almost sad smile. "And here you are, knowing the rhythm of her breath. It makes me wonder, Wonwoo... is that level of devotion something they teach in the Guard, or is it something you taught yourself?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Wonwoo knew that any answer he gave now would be a confession. He could see Mingyu waiting, not for a lie about protocol, but for the truth about why a common guard looked at the future Queen as if she were the only fixed point in a turning world.
Wonwoo didn’t blink. He kept his gaze level, matching Mingyu’s stare with a calm that he didn't actually feel. He knew he was standing on a thin ledge. One wrong word could end his career or, worse, put Y/N in a position she couldn't explain.
"Every person has a rhythm, My Lord," Wonwoo said. His voice was low and steady, lacking any of the nervous energy that might give him away. "When you spend every waking hour ensuring someone stays alive, you stop seeing them as a person and start seeing them as a series of patterns. I know when she is tired because a tired Princess is a vulnerable one. I know when she has a headache because a distracted Princess doesn't see a threat coming."
Mingyu hummed, a small sound of acknowledgement, but he didn't look convinced. He picked up a cloth to wipe the sweat from his neck, his eyes still fixed on Wonwoo.
"Patterns," Mingyu repeated. He sounded like he was testing the word out to see if it rang true. "That’s a very clinical way to describe it. But I’ve watched you when she isn't looking. You don't look like a man watching for assassins. You look like a man who is afraid the world is going to break her."
Wonwoo tightened his jaw. He could feel the heat of the afternoon sun on his neck, but he felt cold. Mingyu wasn't being aggressive, which made it harder to deflect. He was being observant, and that was far more dangerous.
"She is the future of this kingdom," Wonwoo replied. He chose his words with extreme care. "It would be a failure on my part if she were to break under the weight of it. If I know her better than most, it is only because I am the only one allowed to see her when the mask slips. That is the burden of the guard, not a choice of the man."
Mingyu stayed quiet for a moment, tossing the cloth aside. He looked out toward the palace balcony where Y/N often sat.
"I hope you're right, Wonwoo," Mingyu said. He didn't sound angry. He sounded almost worried. "Because if I am going to be her husband, I would like to think I could eventually understand her the way you do. But standing here, I feel like a stranger trying to read a book in a language I haven't mastered yet."
He turned back to Wonwoo, his eyes searching. "It makes me uneasy. I do not want to lose her before our life together even begins simply because I am too blind to see what she needs. You have had three years to learn every breath she takes, and I am starting to realize that if I do not catch up, I will never truly have her."
Wonwoo felt a sharp pang of guilt mixed with a dark, possessive spark he tried to shove down. He realized that Mingyu wasn't just suspicious; he was afraid. He was afraid that no matter how many titles he held or how many provinces he brought to the marriage, he would always be the second person in the room when it came to Y/N’s heart.
"You have time, My Lord," Wonwoo said, though the words felt like a lie on his tongue.
"Do I?" Mingyu asked with a small, hollow laugh. "The wedding is in a month, Wonwoo. You have a three-year head start. I just hope that by the time I learn her patterns, she hasn't already decided that you are the only one who truly knows her."
Mingyu offered a final, lingering look at the palace before turning away without another word. The sound of his boots retreating across the gravel felt like a countdown, each step emphasizing the month remaining before the wedding. Wonwoo remained exactly where he was, his hand still gripped tightly around the hilt of his practice sword. The silence of the training grounds rushed back in, but it offered no comfort. He realized then that Mingyu’s lack of anger was actually more dangerous than a confrontation. A jealous man could be handled with protocol, but a man who recognized the truth was a man who might eventually demand it.
Wonwoo looked down at his calloused hands, the same hands that had caught Y/N’s tears and adjusted her cloaks for years, and felt the crushing weight of his position. He was the keeper of her secrets, but as Mingyu had pointed out, he was also the one standing in the way of her future. He stood alone in the settling dust, realizing that his devotion was no longer just a shield for the Princess, but a growing threat to the very peace he was sworn to protect. The map of her heart that he had spent three years drawing was no longer his alone to keep. Mingyu was looking for it now, and Wonwoo knew he couldn't hide the trail forever.
Later that evening, the palace had fallen into the hushed, rhythmic stillness of the night watch. Wonwoo stood outside Y/N's chambers, his back to the door, but his mind was still on the training grounds. He waited until the final patrol of the hour passed before he risked a soft, rhythmic knock on the wood behind him. It was a signal they had used a handful of times over the years, one that bypassed the formal "My Lady" and spoke directly to the girl he had once kissed in the garden.
The door opened just a crack, and the warm glow of candlelight spilled into the dark hallway. Y/N looked up at him, her hair down and her face tired, her eyes immediately searching his for the reason behind the late-night interruption. She noticed the tension in his jaw before he even spoke.
"We need to be more careful," Wonwoo whispered, his voice barely audible. "Mingyu is not as blind as we thought. He is starting to see the patterns."
Y/N stood up from her desk by the window. The moonlight lit up her face just enough that Wonwoo could see the worried expression she was wearing. “See the patterns? What do you mean?” she asked, reaching out. Wonwoo sighed and took her hands, his rough palms a stark contrast to her soft skin.
“We were training together today and I was foolish enough to share an observation about you with him,” Wonwoo admitted. He looked down at their joined hands, realizing how easily this simple gesture would confirm every suspicion Mingyu held. “He noticed how I look after you. He mentioned the way I know your favorite tea or how I move to block the draft before you even feel the cold. He told me he feels like a stranger reading a book in a language he hasn't mastered yet.”
Wonwoo squeezed her fingers gently, his voice dropping an octave. “He isn't angry, Y/N. That is the problem. He is observant, and he is starting to realize that I have a three-year head start on knowing your heart. He told me he’s afraid he will never truly have you because I am already standing in the space he is supposed to occupy.”
Y/N felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. The three years of silence they had maintained suddenly felt fragile, like a glass bridge beginning to crack under the weight of Mingyu's gaze. They had spent so much time perfecting their masks in public that they had forgotten that a man who loved her would be looking for the person behind the mask.
“If he knows,” Y/N whispered, her eyes searching Wonwoo’s, “then he knows that my marriage to him will be a lie. What do we do, Wonwoo? If he tells my father, or if he decides he cannot marry a woman who is already spoken for in every way that matters, what happens to you?”
Wonwoo pulled her closer, his hands moving from hers to cup her face. The professional distance he had maintained for years finally snapped. He looked at her with a raw intensity that made her breath hitch, the mask of the stoic guard completely gone.
"He won't tell your father," Wonwoo said, his voice low and urgent. "Mingyu is a good man, but he is a man who wants to be loved. He will keep watching us, and eventually, the truth will destroy all three of us. I cannot stand by and watch you walk down that aisle knowing I am the reason your heart is breaking."
As he spoke, a single tear escaped and traced a slow, shimmering path down her cheek. Wonwoo didn't hesitate. He reached out and caught the drop with the pad of his thumb, wiping it away with a tenderness that felt more intimate than any word he had ever spoken. He let his hand linger there, his thumb resting against the corner of her mouth.
"I have spent the last three years watching you prepare for a life that is going to suffocate you," he continued, his voice softening. "I have made arrangements. I have a way out of the city, and I have friends across the border who do not care about alliances or crowns. I am not telling you that we have to go tonight, but I am telling you that the door is open."
He stepped back just an inch, giving her space to breathe, though he didn't let go of her hands. "You have two weeks before the final ceremonies begin. Use them. Look at the life they have built for you, and then look at me. If you decide that you cannot go through with it, tell me. We will leave everything behind, and I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it. But if you choose the crown, I will stay. I will be your guard, and I will never speak of this again."
The silence in the room was heavy with the weight of the choice he had just laid at her feet. For three years, they had been trapped by fate, but now, Wonwoo had given her the one thing she thought she had lost forever: a way out. He was offering her a life of anonymity and struggle, but one where he could finally love her in the light.
"Think about it, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes lingering on hers. "Don't answer me now. Just know that you don't have to be the person they are forcing you to be. You just have to decide if the woman you are is enough for the life I can give you."
The days that followed were a slow torture of divided loyalties. Every time Y/N looked at Mingyu, she saw a man who was genuinely trying to bridge the gap between them. He brought her books he thought she might like and made self-deprecating jokes during formal luncheons to try and coax a real smile from her. At twenty one, Mingyu was everything a princess should want, kind, handsome, and earnest. Yet, every time he reached for her hand or asked her a question about her childhood, Y/N felt a wave of guilt so cold it made her fingers go numb. She was watching a good man fall in love with a ghost, while the man who actually held her soul stood three paces behind her, a silent shadow in silver armor.
Her internal struggle became a physical weight as the wedding preparations reached a fever pitch. She spent her afternoons in fittings for a gown that felt more like a shroud, surrounded by seamstresses who praised her beauty while she felt like she was disappearing. During these moments, her eyes would instinctively find Wonwoo’s reflection in the tall pier glasses. He remained the perfect picture of professional indifference, but she could see the slight, familiar tension in his jaw that Mingyu had pointed out. She realized then that Wonwoo wasn't just waiting for her answer; he was suffering through every second of the countdown alongside her.
The contrast between her two lives grew sharper with every passing hour. With Mingyu, there was the promise of a stable, powerful future, a crown, a duty fulfilled, and the safety of her kingdom. With Wonwoo, there was only the unknown. She thought about the horses at the south postern and the gold he had saved, and she wondered if she was brave enough to be the woman he believed she was. She was terrified of the war her departure might spark, but she was even more terrified of the person she would become if she stayed. Every time Mingyu laughed or tried to "learn her patterns," it only served to remind her that those patterns had been woven by Wonwoo’s hands.
By the end of the week, the pressure had become nearly unbearable. Y/N found herself standing on her balcony late at night, looking out toward the dark horizon where the border lay. She thought about the life Wonwoo had offered her, a life without titles, where they could finally speak about that morning in the garden without fear. The choice was no longer just between two men; it was between the Princess of Hesperos and the woman who had once been kissed behind a hedge. As the moon climbed higher, she realized that the more Mingyu tried to know her, the more she realized that only one person truly did.
The dining hall felt far too large for just the two of them, the flickering candlelight casting long, distorted shadows against the tapestries. Mingyu had dismissed the servants earlier than usual, leaving them in a silence broken only by the clinking of silverware. Wonwoo stood at his post by the heavy oak doors, a silent statue whose presence seemed to vibrate in the air between Y/N and her fiancé.
“You’re doing it again,” Mingyu said quietly, setting his wine glass down with a definitive click.
Y/N looked up, her fork pausing halfway to her plate. “Doing what?”
“You’re here, but you’re not,” Mingyu replied, his voice devoid of anger but heavy with profound sadness. He leaned forward, the light catching the gold embroidery of his tunic. “I have spent the last hour trying to talk to you about the music for the ceremony, about the flowers, about our future home in the North. And every time I speak, you look right through me as if I am a ghost.”
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. “I am just tired, Mingyu. The preparations are a lot for anyone.”
“It’s not just the fatigue,” Mingyu countered, his gaze shifting briefly to the shadow by the door before returning to her. “I’ve tried to learn your patterns, Y/N. I’ve tried to be the man who knows when you’re stressed or when you need a moment of quiet. But every time I think I’ve found a way in, I realize that the door is already locked from the inside. There is a wall around you that I can’t climb, and I think we both know who holds the key.”
The air in the room became suffocating. Y/N glanced toward Wonwoo, but he remained perfectly still, his eyes fixed on the far wall, though she knew he was hanging on every word.
“I want to love you,” Mingyu said, his voice cracking slightly. “I want to be the person you turn to. But how can I marry a woman who looks at her guard with more recognition than she looks at her husband? How can I build a kingdom with someone who treats my presence like a sentence she has to serve?” He reached across the table, his hand hovering near hers but not quite touching. “Tell me the truth, Y/N. If I walked out of this room right now and called off the wedding, would you be heartbroken, or would you finally be able to breathe?”
The silence following Mingyu’s question was so heavy that the crackle of the fireplace sounded like a thunderclap. Y/N looked down at his hovering hand, then slowly shifted her gaze to the doors where Wonwoo stood. For three years, she had carried the weight of the crown and the secret of the garden like a leaden cloak, but looking at Mingyu’s pained, honest face, she realized she couldn't let him shoulder the burden of a lie any longer.
“I would breathe,” she whispered, the words coming out as a shaky, jagged confession.
She looked up, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I would breathe, Mingyu, and that is the most terrible thing I have ever had to admit. You are a good man. You have been nothing but kind, and patient, and everything a Queen could ever ask for. But my heart was never part of the alliance. It was never mine to give to you in the first place.”
Mingyu’s hand dropped to the table, his fingers curling into a fist. He didn't look surprised; he looked like a man watching a storm he had seen on the horizon finally make landfall. He followed her gaze to Wonwoo, who had finally broken his stance. Wonwoo’s hand was resting on the hilt of his sword, his expression a mix of terrifying protectiveness and profound grief.
“It’s him, then,” Mingyu said, his voice a hollow echo. “It’s been him since the beginning. Every time you tripped, every time you sighed, every time you looked for a reason to leave a room, it was always toward him.” He let out a sharp, bitter breath that wasn't quite a laugh. “All this time, I thought I was failing to win you over. I didn't realize I was trying to win a battle that had already been lost years ago.”
Y/N stood up, her chair scraping harshly against the marble floor. “It wasn't a choice I made to hurt you, or the kingdom. It just... it happened. And we spent three years pretending it didn't. We tried to be what everyone needed us to be, Mingyu. But I can't do it anymore. I can’t walk down that aisle and promise to spend my life with you when every piece of me belongs to the man standing three paces behind me.”
Mingyu sat in silence for a long time, his eyes fixed on the flickering candle flames. The betrayal clearly hurt, but his anger seemed to be eclipsed by a weary sense of clarity. He looked at Y/N, then shifted his gaze to Wonwoo, really looking at him for the first time not as a shadow, but as a rival who had already won.
"I will not be the one to go to your father," Mingyu said, his voice sandpaper-dry. "I have no desire to be the reason a man is executed for the crime of being loved by a Princess. And I have too much pride to drag a woman to the altar who is mourning someone else while she holds my hand."
He stood up, his movements stiff and formal. He walked toward the door, stopping just a few feet from where Wonwoo stood. The height difference between the two men was negligible, but the tension was immense.
"I will tell the Council and the King that I am the one who wishes to call off the wedding," Mingyu stated, looking Wonwoo directly in the eye. "I will tell them that I have realized our temperaments are not a match, and that the alliance would be better served through trade agreements rather than a hollow marriage. I will take the blame, and I will return to my own lands."
He turned back to Y/N, a shadow of a smile touching his lips, one that didn't reach his eyes. "But understand this: my protection ends the moment I leave. The King will be furious. He will look for someone to blame for my departure, and he will look at your guard with fresh eyes once I am no longer here to distract him. You have the freedom you wanted, but it is a fragile thing."
Mingyu reached for the door handle, pausing one last time. "I won't tell your secret, but I won't help you keep it either. If you are going to run, you should do it while the court is still reeling from my announcement. Because once I am gone, you will be the only target left for his rage."
With a final, sharp nod, Mingyu exited the hall, leaving the heavy doors to swing shut behind him.
The silence following Mingyu’s departure was thick and suffocating. Wonwoo didn't wait more than a heartbeat before he was across the room, his hands finding Y/N’s shoulders. The professional mask had completely shattered, replaced by an urgency that bordered on desperation. He knew the clock was ticking; once Mingyu delivered his news to the King, the palace would transform into a cage of suspicion.
"We leave tonight," Wonwoo insisted, his voice a low, frantic rasp. "Do not pack a trunk. Do not look for jewelry. We take only what we can carry on a horse. Mingyu has given us a window, but it is closing with every step he takes toward your father’s study. Once the King realizes the alliance is dead, he will look for a reason, and he will look at me first."
Y/N nodded, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. They moved through the servant passages, ghosts in the corridors they had walked for years. Wonwoo led the way, his hand never leaving hers, his eyes scanning every shadow. They reached the heavy iron gate of the south postern, the air smelling of damp earth and freedom. Wonwoo pulled the heavy bolt back, the metal screeching just slightly, and for a moment, the open woods lay before them, dark and inviting.
"Just a few more steps," Wonwoo whispered, stepping out into the cool night air and reaching back to pull her through.
"Is that as far as you thought you would get?"
The voice was like a blade of ice cutting through the dark. Torches flared to life all at once, illuminating the stone archway and the line of royal guards standing with crossbows leveled. Standing in the center of the light was Y/N’s father, the King. He looked older in the torchlight, his face twisted in a mask of cold, controlled fury. He didn't look at his daughter; his eyes were fixed entirely on Wonwoo’s hand, which was still gripped tightly around Y/N’s.
"I trusted you with her life," the King said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I gave you the honor of standing in her shadow for years, and you used that proximity to rot the very foundation of my kingdom. Did you truly believe I wouldn't notice the way you looked at her? Or did you think my daughter’s duty was so cheap it could be stolen by a common soldier in a garden?"
Wonwoo didn't let go of her hand. Instead, he stepped in front of her, shielding her body with his own as the guards moved in to circle them. The freedom of the woods was only ten feet away, but it might as well have been on another continent.
The King took a step forward, the orange light of the torches dancing in his eyes. He ignored the crossbows and the tension in the air, focusing entirely on the man who had dared to touch the crown’s most precious asset. He didn't order an execution, not yet. Instead, he looked at Wonwoo with a terrifying, quiet curiosity.
"You have thrown away your life, your honor, and the safety of your family for this," the King said, gesturing vaguely to the dark woods behind them. "A common guard, raised in the barracks, believing he could steal a Princess. Tell me, soldier, before I have you stripped of your rank and thrown into the black cells: why? What could you possibly see in my daughter that was worth the certain death you are facing now?"
Wonwoo didn't flinch. Even with the tips of the crossbow bolts glinting in the light around him, he stood tall. He felt Y/N’s fingers tremble in his, and he squeezed them once, firmly, before finally speaking.
"It wasn't a choice, Your Majesty," Wonwoo began, his voice surprisingly steady. "I didn't look at her and see a Princess or a political alliance. I saw a girl who was forced to grow up in rooms full of people who only wanted something from her. I love her because I am the only one who knows what her silence sounds like. I love her because I have seen the weight she carries every single day, and I wanted to be the one person she didn't have to be strong for."
He took a small breath, his eyes meeting the King’s without a shred of apology. "I love her because I noticed the things no one else cared to look for. I know how she breathes when she’s afraid, and I know exactly how much she has sacrificed for a crown that only feels like a cage. You see a legacy, My Lord. I see a person. And if loving her as a person instead of a puppet is a crime, then I am guilty a thousand times over."
The King’s expression didn't soften; if anything, his jaw tightened at the raw honesty in Wonwoo's voice. He looked at his daughter, seeing the way she was looking at Wonwoo, not with the practiced grace of a royal, but with a desperate, heartbreaking devotion.
Y/N stepped forward, her movement so sudden and determined that the guards with the crossbows shifted their weight. She did not let go of Wonwoo’s hand; instead, she used it to pull herself level with him, standing shoulder-to-shoulder against the light of the torches.
"He is right, Father," she said, her voice ringing out with a clarity she had never possessed in the Council chambers. "You ask why he loves me as if it is a mystery, but the real question is why you never bothered to know me well enough to ask that yourself. For years, I have been a piece on your board. I have smiled when told, spoken when prompted, and agreed to a marriage that would have withered my soul just to keep your peace."
She looked at her father, seeing the king first and the parent second, and for the first time in twenty one years, she didn't look away.
"You see his devotion as a betrayal of his rank, but it is the only honest thing in this entire palace," she continued, a single tear silvering her cheek but her gaze remaining steady. "Wonwoo didn't steal me. He saved me. He saw the girl you forgot existed beneath the silk and the titles. If you punish him for loving me, then you are punishing the only person in this kingdom who actually knows who your daughter is. You can throw him in the cells, or you can take his life, but you cannot undo the fact that he has already given me more freedom in his silence than you ever gave me in your halls."
She took a shaky breath, her grip on Wonwoo’s hand tightening until her knuckles were white. "If he is a criminal for seeing me as a person, then so am I. If he goes to the dungeons, I will follow him. If he is exiled, I will walk beside him. You taught me that my life belongs to the crown, but tonight I am telling you that my heart belongs to him. You can keep the Princess, Father, but you will never truly have me back."
The King stood motionless, the flicker of the torches casting deep, unreadable shadows across his face.
The King stood motionless, the flicker of the torches casting deep shadows across his weathered face. He looked at his daughter, really looked at her, and saw not a political pawn, but a woman whose spirit he had nearly extinguished. He saw her hand gripped tightly in Wonwoo’s and realized that the "loyalty" he had demanded from his guard was nothing compared to the devotion Wonwoo had actually given her. The silence stretched, the guards waiting for a command to strike, but it never came.
"I have spent my life building walls to protect this kingdom," the King finally said, his voice losing its iron edge and sounding, for the first time, like that of a tired father. "I thought that by securing your future through alliances, I was protecting you as well. But standing here, seeing the way you look at him... I realize I have only succeeded in building a prison for my own child." He let out a long, heavy breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. "If I force this, I lose my daughter. And if I lose you, what was the point of the kingdom?"
He signaled to the archers, and with a collective rustle of leather and wood, they lowered their crossbows. The King stepped forward, stopping just a few feet away. He looked Wonwoo in the eye, not with fury, but with a searching, heavy solemnity. "You say you know what her silence sounds like. You say you know the person beneath the crown. That is a burden heavier than any sword, soldier. If I allow this, you are no longer just a guard. You are the guardian of her happiness. If you fail her, there is no corner of this world where you can hide from me."
He turned back to Y/N, reaching out a hesitant hand to brush a stray hair from her forehead. "The alliance with the North will be difficult to mend, and the Council will scream for blood. There will be no secret flight into the woods tonight. If you want this man, you will have him, but you will do it properly. We will find a way to make him more than a soldier in the eyes of the court. It will take time, and it will be a scandal that tests us all, but I will not be the man who broke my daughter’s heart to save a border."
He looked at their joined hands and gave a small, weary nod. "Go back inside. Both of you. We have a great deal of work to do to explain why the Princess is marrying her shield instead of a Prince."
The transition from being hunted fugitives to an officially recognized couple happened with a dizzying speed that left the palace reeling. After the King’s public dismissal of the guards, the heavy atmosphere of the courtyard evaporated, replaced by the hushed whispers of the court. But for Y/N and Wonwoo, the noise of the world didn't matter. They were led not to a cell or a hidden path, but back to the private solar overlooking the moonlit gardens, the very place where their secret had lived in the shadows for so long.
As the heavy oak doors clicked shut behind them, the silence was no longer a weapon used against them; it was a sanctuary. For a long moment, they simply stood in the center of the room, the space between them finally free of the "three-pace rule." The torchlight from the hallway was gone, replaced by the soft, silver glow of the moon spilling across the floorboards. Wonwoo was the first to move. He unbuckled the heavy leather vambraces from his forearms, the metal clattering onto a side table, a sound of a soldier finally laying down his arms.
"It doesn't feel real," he whispered, his voice thick with a vulnerability he had never been allowed to show.
Y/N crossed the room, her silk skirts rustling like a long-held breath finally released. When she reached him, she didn't just take his hand; she leaned her forehead against his chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic thrum of his heart. It was beating fast, matching her own. Wonwoo wrapped his arms around her, pulling her so close that the cold metal of his remaining armor was the only thing between them. He rested his chin on the top of her head, his eyes closing as he inhaled the scent of jasmine in her hair, a scent he had inhaled from a distance for years, but could finally claim as his own.
The relief was a physical wave, washing away the exhaustion of the last few days. Wonwoo pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands sliding up to cradle her face. There was no urgency now, no four-minute timer, no shadow guards lingering in the doorway. He traced the line of her jaw with a slow, reverent thumb, his gaze lingering on her eyes as if confirming she was truly there. "For three years, I thought the only way I could love you was in the dark," he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rasp. "I thought I would spend my whole life being the man who stood behind you, never the man who stood beside you."
Y/N reached up, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down until their lips were inches apart. "You were always beside me, Wonwoo. Even when you were standing at the door."
When they finally kissed, it was slow and deep, a silent vow exchanged in the moonlight. It wasn't the frantic, desperate kiss of a doomed couple; it was the quiet, steady beginning of a life lived in the light. They had a long road ahead, angry councilmen, broken treaties, and a court that would never truly forget, but as Wonwoo pulled her back into the safety of his embrace, Y/N knew that for the first time in her life, she wasn't just a Princess. She was home.
The walk to the royal chambers felt entirely different than it had for the last three years. Usually, Wonwoo followed several paces behind, his eyes scanning the corridors for threats, his presence a comfort but a distant one. Tonight, as they climbed the grand spiral staircase, his hand remained firmly in hers. There were still guards posted at the turns of the halls, but as the couple passed, the men didn't move to intervene; they simply lowered their heads in a new, uncertain kind of respect.
When they reached the heavy, gold-inlaid doors of her bedroom, Wonwoo paused. It was the threshold he had stood outside of for a thousand nights, guarding her sleep while he sat in the cold silence of the hallway. He looked at the handle, then back at Y/N, a trace of his old professional hesitation flickering in his eyes. Y/N smiled and tugged on their interlaced hands, an invitation to further break the boundary that the crown had set.
"I have spent three years imagining what it would be like to walk through this door with you," he whispered, his voice low and private. "And now that it’s open... I find I’m almost afraid to step inside. As if the dream might break."
Y/N didn't say a word. She simply squeezed his hand and pushed the door open.
The room was bathed in the warm, amber glow of a dying fire in the hearth. The scent of cedar and dried lavender hung in the air. As the door clicked shut behind them, the finality of the sound felt like a seal on their old lives. The palace, the King, and the looming scandal were all on the other side of that wood. Inside, there was only the soft crackle of the embers and the two of them.
Wonwoo turned to her, the firelight catching the sharp planes of his face and softening the intensity in his dark eyes. He reached out, his fingers slowly unlacing the heavy cloak from her shoulders, letting the fabric fall to the floor in a pool of silk. He moved with a reverence that made her heart ache, his touch light as if he were handling something incredibly fragile.
"No more doors between us," he murmured, stepping into her space until their shadows merged against the far wall. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering there, his thumb brushing against her temple.
For the first time, he wasn't looking for assassins or listening for footsteps in the hall. He was only looking at her. He leaned down, his lips ghosting against her forehead before he pulled her into a slow, deep embrace. In the quiet of the room, far above the rest of the world, they finally let the weight of the crown and the sword fall away, ready to face the first night of a future they had finally earned.
In the quiet of her chambers, the adrenaline of the confrontation finally broke, and the reality of their survival crashed over her. Y/N looked up at Wonwoo, her eyes shimmering in the dying firelight, and a single, heavy tear escaped, tracing a slow path down her cheek. It wasn't a tear of sadness, but of a profound, overwhelming relief that had been three years in the making.
Wonwoo’s expression softened instantly, his heart aching at the sight. He reached out with a hand that had spent years gripped around the hilt of a sword, but now moved with the most delicate tenderness. Using the pad of his thumb, he caught the tear before it could reach her jaw, wiping it away with a lingering touch. He didn't pull his hand back; instead, he let his palm cradle her face, his thumb brushing over her skin as if to ensure she was truly real and truly safe.
"No more tears, Y/N," he whispered, his own voice thick with emotion. "The fighting is over. We don't have to hide anymore."
He leaned down, his eyes searching hers for a brief second before he closed the distance. The kiss was slow and deep, a quiet anchor in the middle of their changing world. It tasted of salt and the lingering heat of the hearth, a soft promise that he was no longer just her guard, but her partner. As he pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her flush against him, the last of the tension left her body. In the safety of her room, with the world outside finally silenced, they stayed like that for a long time, two people who had finally found their way home.
Y/N wrapped her arms around Wonwoo’s neck to also pull him closer, before slightly pushing him towards her bed.
“Your Highness,” Wonwoo breathed against her lips, the habit of three years of service flickering in his voice even now.
But Y/N didn't let him finish. She pressed her fingers gently to his lips, shaking her head as a fresh tear of relief welled in her eyes.
“No titles,” she whispered, her voice a soft command that had nothing to do with royalty and everything to do with the woman she had finally become. “Just Y/N. From tonight on, it’s just Y/N and Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against hers. A small, genuine smile finally broke through his stoic mask, the kind of smile he had only ever saved for her in the shadows of the garden. He reached up, his thumb catching the tear on her cheek and wiping it away with a lingering, tender touch.
“Y/N,” he repeated, the name sounding like a prayer in the quiet room.
He leaned down again, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was no longer a secret, but a beginning. There were no ranks between them now, no barriers of stone or silk; there was only the steady heat of the fire and the two of them, finally whole.
When Y/N started fiddling with the latchings on his armor, his heart stuttered, “are you sure?” He asked, looking down at her with nothing but love in his eyes.
“I’ve been in love with you the moment you offered to carry that huge bread basket for me when we were children,” Y/N confessed in between pressing kisses all over his face. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”
Wonwoo chuckled at the confession and nodded before undoing the latches on his chestplate. Y/N watched him undo his left shoulder and when he was finished, undid the right for him. Letting the metal arm pieces fall to the ground. They worked together to take the rest of his armor off, from the chestplate to the leg pieces until there was just Wonwoo in the simple shirt and pants.
“There’s the boy I fell in love with,” Y/N sighed, before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.
Wonwo quickly moved his hands from cupping her jaw to the lace of her dress, trying his hardest to undo the laces without looking and not accidently knotting them.
Y/N chuckled and reached behind her own back to remove Wonwoo’s hands to undo the laces herself. Wonwoo’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment but went back to cupping her cheeks as she quickly undid the laces of her dress and then pushed the heavy fabric off her shoulders when it was loose enough, leaving her in a light frock.
He cupped her ass and slightly nudged her with his legs causing Y/N to lift both of her legs and let Wonwoo carry her while making his way toward the bed. Once he felt his legs hit the edge of the bed, he gently lowered her onto the bed.
Y/N gasped when he disconnected their lips and slowly started kissing all over her face. Her nose, her eyes, her forehead, then started moving down towards her jaw and neck. She sighed, reveling in his attention and moved her hands from around his neck to in his hair.
Wonwoo groaned, when she started pulling on his hair when he started pressing kisses to her collarbone and started pushing the straps of her frock off her shoulders and slowly pulling it down to reveal her chest.
“You’ve always been beautiful,” Wonwoo confessed, his voice dropping to a low, rough velvet that made her heart skip. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his dark eyes tracing every curve of her face in the firelight as if he were seeing her clearly for the very first time. “But tonight, here with the truth between us... you’ve never looked more like yourself. And that is what I’ve always been in love with.”
Y/N felt a fresh wave of warmth spread through her chest, her fingers tightening in his hair as he peppered kisses along her chest and stomach.
Wonwoo looked up in between kisses to her nipples to watch her glistening face melt at the pleasure he was giving her, before giving a particular harder suck to her left nipple. She let out a moan and tightened her grip on his hair.
“Wonwoo,” she panted as his hand went to spread her legs and started moving his kisses lower. She finally let go of his hair so he could move further down her body, grasping the bed sheets feeling him settle between her legs.
“I don’t exactly know what I’m doing here,” Wonwoo said, pressing kisses against her hip bones. “If anything doesn’t feel right, tell me.”
Y/N nodded, and reached down to lace her hand with his, “You weren’t out bedding every maiden that looked your way?”
Wonwoo scoffed and squeezed her hand, “I was sworn to celibacy when I became your knight, lest you forget.”
Y/N chuckled, and squeezed his hand back, “I trust you Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo smiled up at her before moving his other hand to her hip to keep her in place and lowering his lips to her core.
He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but the other knights had shared stories about pleasuring women. They talked about tasting women and the sounds that they made, so he knew that the moans Y/N was making when he was kissing her earlier was what should happen as well.
He started licking through her folds, tasting the arousal that was nestled between her legs, and noticed that the spot at the top of her mound made her moan the most. He moved his attention towards the top of her cunt and started rubbing his tongue in circles feeling her whimper and buck her hips gently.
“Does this feel good love?” He asked, the vibration of his low voice causing waves of arousal shoot through her body, causing her to wrap her legs around his shoulders, locking him in place.
He switched between rubbing her sex and sucking the pebble before she squeezed their interlocked hands again.
“It feels good Wonwoo,” she trembled, hips stuttering before releasing all over his face. Wonwoo continued licking her through her release, eager to taste every last drop of her.
“You taste devine,” he praised, running his tongue all around her, triggering another build up. “Can you do it again for me? Please?”
Y/N whined, tightening her legs around his head, the overstimulation on her clit turning from discomfort to pleasure again. After a few more hard sucks to her mound she fell apart on his tongue again, back arching this time and moved her free hand to try and pry his head away from her in case he wanted another orgasm.
Wonwoo licked his lips, not wanting to waste a single drop of her arousal before slowly kissing his way back up her body. A kiss to her kip, below her belly button, her rib, below her breasts, her nipple, her sternum, her jaw, and then finally her lips.
She moaned into his mouth, not used to the sweet taste of what she could only assume was herself, before tugging his shirt off him.
Wonwoo’s training had done him well. He was no longer the skinny baker's boy she had known in their youth; he had grown into all his features quite well. His chest was broad, a testament to the grueling years spent on the training grounds and the heavy toll of his duties, his shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of her safety for years, and the solid muscle of his arms provided a sense of security that no stone wall ever could. The lean, awkward teenager had been replaced by a man of formidable presence, forged by the discipline of the guard and the silent fire of his devotion to her.
She ran her hands across his chiseled chest, before tugging on his pants. He chuckled, and nodded sitting back to take them off.
As she watched him remove his pants and reveal his cock. Y/N’s cheeks flushed at the size of him, as Wonwoo's breath also hitched at the cool air flooding the room from the open window. He leaned back down over her, interlacing one of their hands together and pinning them by her head. His other hand went back between her legs to make sure she was wet enough to take him without any pain.
When his hand came in contact with her wetness he lined himself up with her before looking back up into her eyes.
“I love you,” he softly smiled, connecting their lips before slowly pushing himself into her.
“I love you too,” she sighed, trying to adjust to his size. Wonwoo winced, as Y/N tried to adjust to his size, clenching his cock a few times, panting heavily, rubbing her hard nipples against his own, and holding onto his bicep.
Once Wonwoo was all the way in her, Y/N moaned, and squeezed his bicep harder. Wonwoo groaned at how tight she was, before pushing his hips back, taking a second to catch his breath and rocking his hips back into hers.
Y/N threw her head back into the pillows as Wonwoo continued to move, the pleasure building up in her stomach before she gently put her hands onto his chest, asking him to stop.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, a concerned look spreading across his face.
Y/N batted her eye lashes up at him before turning onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows and knees, the sheets catching under her. Wonwoo groaned before leaning over her and interlocking their hands again before sliding back into her. This time thrusting into her harsher.
“I’m close,” Y/N panted against the pillows. Wonwoo would have almost missed it, if he wasn’t so focused on the noises she was making. He smiled and squeezed their interlocked hands before moving to cup her breast and squeezing her nipple.
The stimulation was enough to cause Y/N to climax, her walls fluttering around his cock, causing Wonwoo to also climax, emptying himself into her. As Wonwoo’s climax finished, he smiled and slowly pulled out of her, pressing kisses along her spine as she stayed propped up on her elbows and knees to catch her breath.
Once he finally noticed that her breath was evening out, he laid down beside her, arms under his head to look up at her glowing face. Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling. He chuckled and reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Where did you learn all of that Sir Wonwoo?” She panted, finally opening up her eyes and slowly moved her legs so that she was laying on her stomach. She turned her head toward him to see him reaching towards the floor to grab something off the ground before coming up with a rag to wipe her down.
“I have only heard stories from the other knights I trained with. Although they never told me how the deed is done, they did tell me what their lovers enjoyed,” he smirked.
Y/N smiled, rolling on to her back so he could clean between her legs, before spreading them. “Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t complaining. More so in awe of how good it felt for our first times.”
Wonwoo carefully opened her legs and gently pressed the rag between her legs, dabbing the remaining release from between them and pressing a kiss to her clit.
Y/N gasped, at the contact before nudging him with her foot. “Give me some time to recover.”
Wonwoo chuckled, “sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
He moved back up to lay beside her, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight. With a gentle, inviting smile, he patted his broad chest, signaling for her to lay on top of him. Y/N didn’t hesitate; she shifted closer, resting her head against the steady thrum of his heart and draping her arm across his torso, finally feeling the warmth she had only been allowed to imagine for years.
“I can’t believe that we get to be together,” she whispered, her voice muffled against the soft fabric of his tunic. The words felt fragile, as if saying them too loudly might wake her from a dream. “For so long, I thought the only way I could keep you safe was to keep you away. I thought our lives would always be lived in glances and whispers.”
Wonwoo’s hand found her hair, his fingers stroking the tresses with a slow, rhythmic grace that acted as a balm to her nerves. “The wait is over, Y/N,” he murmured, his chest vibrating beneath her cheek as he spoke. “No more hallways between us. No more watching you walk away into rooms I wasn’t allowed to enter.”
He tilted his head down, resting his chin atop her hair, his other arm wrapping securely around her waist to hold her flush against him. In the quiet of the room, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and their synchronized breathing. The baker’s boy who had become a soldier, and the Princess who had become a woman, were finally just two souls sharing a bed and a future.
“We have the rest of our lives for it to feel real,” Wonwoo promised, his voice a low, steady anchor in the dark. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
The palace was no longer a labyrinth of secrets, but a home filled with the sound of celebration. The scent of orange blossoms and expensive wine lingered in the air, drifting up from the courtyard where the kingdom was still toasted to the health of the newly titled Consort and his Princess. But inside the royal chambers, the heavy oak doors had been shut against the world, finally granting the couple the one thing they had fought the hardest for: a moment of absolute peace.
The transition from a disgraced guard to the Grand Commander of the Royal Guard was a transformation that changed the very foundation of the kingdom. The King, recognizing that no man was more capable of defending the crown than the one who loved its heir, officially placed the silver seal of the Knights into Wonwoo’s hand. He was no longer the skinny baker’s boy or the silent shadow; he had become the kingdom’s most formidable pillar. His broad chest now filled out the midnight-blue velvet and silver-plated armor of his station, a physique forged by years of discipline and the heavy weight of a responsibility he took with absolute gravity.
Under Wonwoo’s leadership, the atmosphere of the palace shifted. He replaced the atmosphere of surveillance with one of brotherhood, training a new generation of knights who looked at him with the same reverence the common people did. In the war room, he sat at the King’s right hand, his directness as a soldier cutting through the political noise of the Council. He had become a man of such presence that the Northern factions no longer dared to test the borders; they knew the Princess was guarded by a man who had already proven he would face death for her.
The ceremony had been a masterclass in royal spectacle, yet for Wonwoo, it felt like a dream occurring in slow motion. As he stood at the altar in his formal whites, the sunlight filtering through the stained glass caught the sharp, handsome lines of his face. When Y/N walked down the long stone aisle, the room fell into a hush that wasn't born of protocol, but of genuine awe. She wasn't just a Princess being wed; she was a woman reclaiming her life. When they finally stood face-to-face, Wonwoo didn't wait for the priest's prompting. He reached out and took her hands, his large, calloused fingers enveloping hers with a grounding strength that said, I have you.
The reception had followed with endless toasts and the clinking of crystal, but the true wedding happened in the small, stolen glances they shared across the high table. Every time a lord addressed him as "Lord Consort" or "Commander," Wonwoo would feel a phantom weight of his old armor, but then he would feel Y/N’s knee brush against his under the table, anchoring him. They danced once—a slow, sweeping waltz that cleared the floor. In that moment, with his hand on the small of her back and her hand on his broad shoulder, the "patterns" of their love were on display for the whole kingdom to see. They moved as one, a seamless harmony that proved their souls had been married long before the rings were ever exchanged.
Now, hours later, the echoes of the cheers had finally faded, replaced by the crackle of the fire in their private suite. Wonwoo finished unbuckling the last of his formal gear, the heavy silver-trimmed cloak hitting the chair with a dull thud. He stood in his simple linen undershirt, his chest broad and rising steadily with his breath as he looked at Y/N by the hearth. The transition from the public hero to the private husband was visible in the way his shoulders finally dropped, the tension of the day melting away.
He moved toward her, his bare feet silent on the rugs. He didn't say a word as he reached her; he simply wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her back against the solid warmth of his chest. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the lingering scent of her wedding perfume and the familiar, sweet warmth of her skin. "I thought the day would never end," he murmured, his voice a low, vibrating rumble against her back. "I spent the whole night wanting to spirit you away from the crowds and bring you back here, where it’s just us. I think,” Wonwoo began, his voice raspy from a day of formal vows and political pleasantries, “that if I had to shake one more Duke’s hand or hear one more toast about 'border stability,' I might have actually seized the crown and run for the hills.”
Y/N laughed, the sound bright and clear in the quiet room. She stepped toward him, reaching up to help him with the stubborn silver fastenings at his throat. “And here I thought the Grand Commander was supposed to have infinite patience. You looked so stoic at the altar, Wonwoo. Like a statue carved from marble.”
“I wasn't being stoic,” he admitted, his hands coming up to rest on her waist, pulling her flush against his broad chest. “I was terrified that if I moved too quickly or breathed too loud, the illusion would shatter. I kept waiting for a guard to tap me on the shoulder and tell me to get back to my post at the door.”
He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes closing for a moment as he breathed her in. “But then you took my hand, and your skin was so warm. That was when I knew it was real.”
Y/N leaned back just enough to look at him, her fingers tracing the sharp, familiar line of his jaw. “No more posts at the door, Wonwoo. From now on, you’re the one inside the room. With me.”
“It’s a strange promotion,” he murmured with a small, lopsided smirk, the one he only ever showed her. “I went from guarding your life to being your life. I think I prefer the new title.”
“And what title is that?” she teased, her heart thudding against her ribs as his grip on her waist tightened.
Wonwoo didn't answer with words at first. He swept her up into his arms, his strength effortless as he carried her toward the bed. He laid her down against the silk pillows before settling beside her, patting his chest in that silent, sacred invitation. Once she was tucked against him, her head rising and falling with his breath, he whispered into her hair.
“Just Wonwoo,” he said softly. “Your Wonwoo.”
“That’s the only one I ever wanted,” she replied, closing her eyes as the peace of their new life finally settled over them both
taglist: @elynsthings @atashiboba @itsnotjop
mirror, mirror, mirror
[ J. Yunho ]
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summary: in which your boyfriend’s mirror kink is worse than yours
warning: hard dom yunho, sub reader, mirror sex, oral, edging, mouth fucking, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex, multiple orgasm, hair pulling, spanking, choking, double penetration, creampie, absolute filth yall
genre: smut
pairing: idol yunho x afab reader
word count: 7.4k
mirror, mirror part one
masterlist
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The mirror’s never been cleaner. You know because Yunho cleaned it last night. Shirtless. With a towel slung over his shoulder and a look in his eye like he was prepping a damn altar.
You’d made a joke about it, “You in love with it or something?”
He didn’t even flinch. “Of course I am,” he muttered, hand flexing over the glass. “It’s seen the best parts of you.”
And you? You’d been silent after that. Because he wasn’t wrong. And because you still hadn’t recovered from the way he worshipped you in it the night before. How he’d made you look, really look, while he fucked you like you were a gift to the mirror. One hand on your throat. The other between your thighs. Whispering things like “look at the mess you make,” and “you wanted this reflection, didn’t you?”
You weren’t the only one with a mirror kink anymore. Yunho had fallen face first into it and never looked back. So when the gym pic dropped this morning? You knew what he was doing. It wasn’t thirst. It was foreplay.
Posted on his instagram story. That post workout glow. Black tank clinging to every new muscle he’s been building for the past year like it’s his side hustle. That quiet flex. One hand on his hip. Forearms pumped. Neck glistening. Taken, of course, in a mirror.
You stared at the screen for too long. Because now every time he posted a mirror pic, your brain didn’t just go “hot.” It rewound. It remembered the sound you made when he bent you over in front of yours. The way he looked over your shoulder to watch himself fucking into you. The grin that stretched across his face when he said, “You see that? That’s how you take me.”
You felt your thighs clench as you got a text.
Yunho: Mirror says hi.
You didn’t even realize you’d replied until you saw your own message.
You: Keep talking like that and I’ll make it watch me get off without you
This time the typing bubbles popped up immediately.
Yunho: Try it. I’ll be home in 20. And I hope you’re still playing when I get there. I want the mirror to see you fall apart when I ruin you for teasing me.
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The steam still clung to your skin as you stood in front of the mirror, not the mirror, but the bathroom one this time, towel loose around your body, damp hair dripping, your fingers slipping cream across your collarbones without thought. Your heartbeat was still ticking from earlier. That gym photo. That mirror. That text.
He’d said twenty minutes. That was over thirty ago. You’d already checked the time twice. You tried not to read too much into it, he was probably parking, or stuck in post workout traffic, or stopping to grab food like he always did because he always got starved after sex.
You padded into his room barefoot, towel still on, eyeing the mirror like it was a co conspirator. The bed was half made. There was a faint dent in the sheets where you’d been curled up with your phone earlier. Yeosang’s door across the hall was closed. Quiet. God, you hoped he went out. You didn’t want to be polite tonight. You didn’t want to hold back your noises or pretend you weren’t whispering Yunho’s name through your teeth when he started playing with your body like it belonged to him.
You sat down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, still damp and flushed, the towel beginning to slip as you reached for your phone to check the time one more time.
Yunho: Baby I’m so sorry. We just got called into rehearsal for Gayo last minute blocking changes plus they gave me a solo, don’t know how long it’ll go, might be super late getting back
You stared at the screen, blinking once. Twice. No. No no no. You were naked under this towel. Wet. Edged from his text. You chewed your lip, staring at the ceiling for a second like maybe the disappointment would evaporate if you tilted your head hard enough.
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The microwave clock glared 1:08 AM. The apartment was too quiet. Except for the click of the front door and the soft rustle of Yeosang’s coat as he toed off his boots, trying not to make noise.
You were already in the kitchen. Hair half dried, one of Yunho’s hoodies hanging past your thighs, no pants. Just legs. And tension. Yeosang blinked at the sight of you, setting his keys down and yawning. “You’re up?”
You didn’t answer right away. Just narrowed your eyes and asked, “Where’s Yunho?” Yeosang froze mid stretch, brows lifting. “Still at KQ.”
You frowned. “Still?”
“Yeah. It’s the Gayo stage. You know how they get. They gave him a solo dance section last minute. San said they’ve been blocking it out for the past three hours.” He shrugged, already padding toward the hallway. “Might be another hour or two. He looked like he was about to pass out last I saw him.”
You nodded slowly, mouth tight, but said nothing else as Yeosang dropped onto the couch as you stood there in the kitchen, staring at the darkened window like it had answers. The memory of his texts still burned in the back of your mind. The way he said he’d be home soon. The way he’d made your body ache with just a few lines of words and a gym mirror pic.
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Ten minutes later, you were dressed. Well, more like you slipped on some sweats with the hoodie you already had on, told Yeosang you were gonna go see Yunho.
The night air bit through the fabric as you stepped out of the building. The streets were quiet, save for the soft buzz of neon convenience store signs and the hum of distant traffic. Seoul always slept with one eye open, even this late.
You didn’t care what time it was. Didn’t care how cold it was. Didn’t even care what you were gonna do once you got there. You just needed to see him. The Yunho that promised twenty minutes. The Yunho who made you melt with mirror kissed filth over text. The Yunho who hadn’t even seen what you looked like tonight, curling your legs under you, pacing the floor, checking the clock like some starved, obsessive girlfriend in his damn hoodie.
No.
You weren’t gonna wait around like some passive little thing, twiddling your thumbs while KQ made him rehearse until his bones ached. He’d said not to wait up. So you weren’t.
By the time you made it to KQ, the building was mostly dark. The halls had that late night hum, that buzz of overhead lights and heating vents that only existed when the world had finally shut up. The front desk was empty. One security who knew you and let you walk past. No one at the elevators. Just you, socks in sneakers, hair an air dried mess, hood up.
You knew where to go. You’d been here multiple times before. Snuck in before. Waited in corners before. But this time, you weren’t hiding. You weren’t waiting. You turned the corner past studio 2, then 3, and stopped outside studio 5, the biggest room, the one with the wall to wall mirror. The one they always used when something big was coming.
You heard it before you saw it. The music. The beat. And then the thud of feet hitting the ground. You peeked through the window in the door, already breathless. There he was. Yunho. Sweat clinging to his jawline. Tank clinging to his back. Cargo sweats hanging low on his hips. Arms flexed. Focus dialed in.
The same outfit from the gym photo. Only now it was alive. Real. Dripping. Moving.
He hit the next move hard, spinning on his heel, sweat flying, one hand dragging down the front of his face. He looked wrecked, but controlled. Power rippling through every line of his body. And that mirror, that giant, endless sheet of glass, was reflecting all of it.
He didn’t see you yet. He was too in it. Too dialed into the music. You watched as he hit the last beat, chest heaving, breath coming fast. He stilled, facing the mirror, hands on his hips. That was when his eyes flicked up and saw you. He didn’t move. Neither did you as his chest was still rising and falling.
You opened the door quietly and slipped in, shutting it behind you with a soft click. The music was still echoing faintly from the speakers. The air was thick with heat and adrenaline as you padded across the floor, your sneakers nearly silent on the wood, his hoodie still drowning your frame.
Yunho turned slowly. No surprise in his face. Just something heavier and slower as you stopped a few feet away, right behind him, and in front of the mirror. You could see your reflection beside his. You, hooded, bare faced, flushed. Him, sweaty, wide shouldered, shining like sin.
He raised a brow, voice low. Rough. “What are you doing here?”
Your arms stayed at your sides. “You said twenty minutes,” you replied.
Yunho exhaled through his nose, turning fully to face you now, one hand dragging through his hair. “I didn’t think they were gonna throw me a solo at the last fucking second.”
You nodded once before taking a step closer. Close enough to feel the heat coming off him as your voice dropped. “You look like that…” Your eyes flicked up and down his body. “and post mirror pics like that…” You tilted your head. “and then tell me to wait?”
Yunho didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stared. Not at your hand that was now on his shirt, but at your face. Your eyes. Your reflection. The tension that rolled off him wasn’t surprise. It was… recognition. That same weight he carried in the mirror. When he made you look at yourself as he split you open.
He exhaled once, slow and deep. Then it came. That smirk. The one he only ever gave you. Not for fans. Not for fancams. Not for cameras. You. Just you. That soft little curl of his lips, smug and dangerous, like he knew what was coming next and he couldn’t wait to watch you realize it too.
He released your wrist, turning his back and walked across the studio, slow and deliberate, every inch of that post gym, post dance sweat drenched body on display in the mirror as he reached the heavy rehearsal room door.
He locked it with one hand on the handle, leaning forward and letting his head rest against the frame for a moment, shoulders wide, breathing steady, before he turned slightly, just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. His tongue dragged across his bottom lip before he said it. Voice low. Like smoke. “Now we don’t have to rush.”
Your thighs clenched as he pushed off the door, rolling his neck once, then walking back across the room toward you like gravity pulled him. Step by step, quiet and slow, like a predator too sure of himself to run.
Yunho reached the speaker first. His fingers brushed the volume knob, twisting it just enough to quiet the pulsing beat still vibrating through the floor. The bass faded to a soft hum, more pulse than song now. Then he turned back to you. Still in your spot Still in his hoodie Still looking like temptation in sweatpants and a stare that dared him to move.
He didn’t speak at first. Just stood there. Breathing. Sweating. Watching you. Then his gaze shifted, not to you, but past you. Over your shoulders. To the massive studio mirror behind you.
A soft, breathy laugh left him. One of those low ones, more exhale than sound. “That mirror in my room?” he said, tilting his head. “Not even close.” You blinked as he took a step toward you. “This,” Yunho murmured, motioning lazily to the mirror that spanned the entire wall, floor to ceiling, corner to corner, glinting beneath the studio lights, reflecting both of you perfectly, framing you. “this is what you should’ve given me from the beginning.”
You swallowed hard as he took another step, now close enough to reach out. “But I get it now.” he continued, voice lower, more dangerous as his hand rose, fingers brushing the side of your face. Just once. Soft. Like a caress meant for your reflection. “And now I want more.”
He walked around you slowly, heat rolling off his body like steam, circling once, then stopping behind you, his chest to your back, his breath at your ear. You both looked at the mirror now. Side by side. “You see this?” he whispered, one hand gripping your hip through the hoodie, the other rising to push your hair gently off your neck. “Look at that view.”
His eyes were locked on the reflection. The way his hoodie fell just enough to tease the curve of your shoulder. The way his hand looked wrapped around your hip. The contrast of black fabric and flushed skin as his lips grazed your ear. “This room,” he said, voice dropping to a purr, “was made for this.”
You didn’t speak when Yunho stepped closer. Didn’t breathe when he slid his hands around your waist from behind. Didn’t dare blink when he whispered. “Eyes on the mirror.” Because the way he said it? Not a suggestion. A command.
The wall in front of you reflected everything. Your hood was still up. His hoodie still swallowed your frame, sleeves past your wrists, hem brushing the tops of your thighs. But you could feel his eyes burning through the cotton. Feel his hands flexing at your sides, possessive and slow.
He leaned in, his lips just behind your ear, hot and rough with breath. “No bra.” One hand slid up, palm pressing lightly to your chest. “No panties.” The other hand slipped lower, fingers brushing just under the hem. “Just this.” You exhaled, barely and Yunho’s grip tightened, and then he took a step back. “Take it off.”
You hesitated only a second. Then your hands moved, you lifted the hoodie, dragging it up and over your head. Your skin prickled in the cool air as it fell to the floor in a heavy thump, followed by you kicking off your shoes and sweats, and you were left bare. In front of all that mirror.
A low groan echoed behind you. That filthy, appreciative sound Yunho only made when you were fully, devastatingly naked for him. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Come here.” You didn’t move. Instead, you lifted your eyes to the mirror, watching as he moved. Yunho dropped to his knees behind you. Not fast. Not clumsy. Slow. Smooth. Intentional.
His hands slid up your legs first, palms wide and warm, thumbs pressing to the backs of your thighs. He trailed them higher, over the curve of your ass, gripping your waist with both hands like he needed to anchor himself before he got carried away. His head tilted up, chin brushing your lower back as he looked past you, into the mirror. At you.You watched him watch you. Eyes full of hunger. Awe. Something darker.
“Do you see yourself?” he whispered and you nodded slowly as he leaned in, lips brushing your spine, his hands flexing against your hips, gripping them like he wasn’t entirely sure you were real. Like the reflection might disappear if he let go.
Your skin was already tingling from the trail of his lips against your spine, the way his breath dragged hot and slow over your lower back as he knelt behind you. Then, softly, he spoke. “Hands on the mirror.” You obeyed. Slow. Silent. Your palms met the cool glass, shoulder width apart, grounding yourself as the reflection stared back. Yunho behind you as your thighs quivered just from the anticipation.
You watched his hands slide down from your waist, brushing the curve of your ass before settling at the backs of your thighs. He nudged one outward. Then the other, widening your stance just enough to bare everything to him, and to the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he said, voice low and reverent. “Just look.”
You did. And what you saw? Wrecked you. Your breath hitched. Because there, between your legs, was him. Head lowered. Lips brushing your inner thigh. Eyes fixed on your reflection like he was already drinking you in. His broad shoulders framed you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he kissed the soft skin high up on your leg, teasing, slow, making you whimper without even touching where you needed him most.
He didn’t rush. He was savoring. One kiss on your right thigh. Then one on the left. Higher each time. Your fingers curled against the mirror, your breath fogging the glass as you watched him. You felt him, his tongue teasing up the inside of your thigh, hot and soft and just barely there, making your knees wobble as his thumbs spread you open.
Your reflection shifted as he exposed every inch of you to the mirror, and to himself. “Fuck,” he breathed, eyes locked on the sight. Then he leaned in and you choked on your moan. His mouth latched onto you from behind, tongue sliding between your folds, hot and firm and hungry. One arm looped around your thigh to hold you steady, while the other hand pressed to the small of your back, keeping you bent forward, keeping you right where he wanted you. Right where the mirror could watch.
You saw it all. The way your legs trembled. The way his tongue licked a long, slow stripe through your soaked pussy. The way his eyes flicked up to meet yours in the reflection, pupils blown wide with dark intent. He groaned into you like your taste was divine. Like this was religion.
His mouth moved with precision, tongue circling your clit, then plunging back down to thrust inside you. He was feasting on you. Drenched chin. Fingers gripping tighter. Rhythm building as you gasped, moaning brokenly against the mirror, forehead falling to the cool glass as you fought to keep your knees from giving out. “Yunho…. f… fuck” you whimpered.
He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against you. His mouth worked faster, deeper, tongue thrusting, lips sucking, nose bumping just right as your body began to quake. In the mirror, you saw your own face, flushed, open mouthed, eyes wide as your thighs trembled violently, slick dripping down his chin.
You looked ruined. And Yunho was eating it up. Literally. His tongue was working you open like he wanted to crawl inside, mouth locked around your clit just right, his groans rolling through you like thunder, building, building, building….. Until your breath caught. Your legs locked. And you gasped, “Y… Yunho, I….”
He moved. Gone. His mouth pulled away in one smooth motion, leaving you soaked, twitching, throbbing with nothing but air between your thighs. You let out a broken sound, almost a cry, as your knees nearly buckled. “No!” Your head whipped toward the mirror. And there he was.
Backing up. Standing tall. Chest rising and falling. His chin glistened with your slick. His lips were red and swollen. And that look on his face, smug, controlled, dark, like he hadn’t just wrecked you and walked away. “Not yet,” he said simply, voice low. “I want to see it when you come. Not just taste it.”
You stared at him, breathless, heart pounding, body screaming. Then you watched, helpless, as his hands gripped the hem of his tank top and he peeled it off slowly over his head, revealing broad shoulders, a chest that looked carved from stone, glistening with sweat and the remnants of your need. His muscles flexed as he tossed the tank aside and reached for the waistband of his cargo sweats.
Your mouth went dry as he kept his eyes locked on yours in the mirror as he pushed them down, first the waistband, then his boxers, revealing just how hard he was. His dick flushed, thick, bobbing slightly as he stepped out of the last of his clothes. Completely bare now. And completely composed.
You were the one shaking. He was the one in control. And he knew it. His fingers flexed once at his sides. Then he stepped forward, coming up behind you again. Bare skin to bare skin. You felt the heat of him, the weight of his stare, the heavy press of his dick grazing your thigh as one hand slid up your spine, the other gripping your hip.
You’re still edged. Still dripping. Still aching so badly it hurts. But now? Now you want him just as wrecked. You look up at him through the mirror, lips parted, eyes blown wide, and lift your chin. “Come here.”
He doesn’t move. Not yet. Because he’s watching. Watching the way your chest rises and falls. Watching the way your thighs are still trembling. Watching the way your mouth opens like you already know what you’re about to do. You swallow, then reach for him, wrapping your hand around his dick, slow and deliberate, feeling the weight of him twitch in your grip.
“Stand there,” you murmur, voice wrecked but steady. “And watch.” That does it. He steps closer, until you’re right between his legs, your shoulder blades brushing the mirror, your reflection framed perfectly beneath him as you sink to your knees and lean forward and take him into your mouth. Slow. Warm. Devastating.
Yunho exhales hard, one hand flying to the mirror, not touching you, just bracing himself as he watches your lips stretch around him in the glass. “Fuck…” he breathes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him deeper, eyes never leaving the mirror as you start to move, head bobbing, tongue dragging along the underside just the way you know makes his knees threaten to buckle.
You pull back just enough to look up at him. “Watch yourself,” you whisper, then sink back down, taking more of him this time, letting him hit the back of your throat as you relax around him and his hips jolt forward on instinct. He stops himself with a growl as your hand tightens at the base, controlling the pace as you work him with your mouth, slow, filthy, intentional, making him earn it.
In the mirror, it’s obscene. You on your knees. Back arched. Mouth full. Spit slicking his dick as he fights the urge to take over. His voice is rough when he finally speaks. “Baby… you’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind.” You moan around him, soft, vibrating, and he swears under his breath, head tipping back before snapping forward again, eyes glued to the reflection. Your reflection.
You sink deeper, slower, letting him slide past your lips again as your fingers dig into his thighs, pulling back just enough to whisper, “Fuck my mouth.” And that was all it took. Yunho’s jaw flexed. His breath hitched. Then his hand sank into your hair, fingers curling deep at the base of your skull, holding you like a leash, and his hips rolled forward with purpose.
Your lips stretched, your throat opened, and he moaned, openly, watching it happen in real time. “Look at that,” he muttered, voice low and strained, his eyes locked on the mirror. He watched your mouth stuffed full of him, spit slicking his dick. He saw his hand in your hair, the bulge of his forearm flexing as he used it for grip. He saw the way your knees pressed together, thighs trembling, skin glowing under the studio lights.
He was losing control. He didn’t tease anymore. He didn’t edge. He thrust into your mouth now, deep, hips snapping forward as he let out a wrecked groan, one hand gripping your hair, the other flattening to the mirror above your head, arm braced as he fucked your throat. “Shit… baby…. your mouth feels so fucking good…” he gasped, dick sliding past your lips again and again, deeper each time, his reflection above you looking half crazed with lust.
Your hands gripped his thighs, nails digging in as you moaned around him, throat vibrating, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes from the stretch and the pressure and the filthy perfection of it all. You moaned louder and he twitched in your mouth.
“Fuck…. yes… just like that…. take it… it’s yours” His hips stuttered. Your spit coated him now, your mouth warm and wet and needy, your moans echoing in the room like music as Yunho’s thrusts grew rougher, faster. His muscles locked. His abs flexed and you felt it. The pulse. The strain. The unraveling.
He growled low and wrecked, jaw clenched tight. “You want it?” he hissed. “You want me to come down your throat while you look like that?” Your eyes rolled slightly as you moaned around him and pulled back. Wet lips. Strings of spit connecting your mouth to his dick as you sat back on your heels, still on your knees, staring up at him with glassy, ruined eyes… and a knowing smile.
His breath caught as you wiped your mouth slowly with the back of your hand, blinking up at him like you were innocent. “Not yet,” you said softly, teasing. “I want you to feel it.” Yunho didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He just stared. Like you’d just turned his entire body inside out.
Then he snapped. His hand shot out, grabbing your arm, pulling you up from the floor so fast your breath caught in your throat. Not harsh, just urgent. Desperate. Like he couldn’t wait another second. He dropped with you again, but this time onto the floor, his ass hitting the hardwood with a thud, dragging you into his lap with him.
You landed between his legs, back to his chest, your thighs spreading instinctively as his knees bent up behind yours, his feet planting flat against the wall length mirror. The reflection? Obscene. You. Straddling him. Legs wide. Core dripping. Your flushed, flushed skin pressed against his glistening chest, his dick hard and twitching against your lower back.
His arms wrapped around your middle, possessive, claiming, his breath ragged behind your ear as his fingers slid down your stomach. Lower. Trailing over your hips. You whimpered, head falling back to his shoulder as his hand cupped between your thighs, palm pressing flat against your heat. “Look,” he whispered.
You did, and what you saw made your core pulse. Your legs, wide open. Your body flushed, trembling, on display.
Your face wrecked. Waiting.
His fingers moving. Two slid through your slick folds, teasing, dragging, spreading you gently as his arm tightened around your waist, anchoring you there.
“Yunho…”
His fingers slipped in deeper and you arched, crying out as he held you tighter. And in the mirror, you watched it all. Watched your mouth fall open.
Watched your thighs twitch.
Watched his fingers sink into you and pull back slick and shining. “Now,” Yunho whispered, lips brushing your neck, “you’re gonna come right here in my lap…” His voice dropped to filth. “and you’re gonna watch yourself break.”
His arm around your waist was the only thing keeping you upright as his fingers pumped inside you, slick and relentless, curling just right. His other hand gripped your thigh, pulling it wider across his own as your body twitched helplessly in his lap. The mirror in front of you? Showed everything. Your legs spread. Your chest rising in frantic little bursts. Your flushed face slack with pleasure. And his hand buried between your thighs working you open like it was muscle memory.
“Look at you,” Yunho rasped against your ear. “Completely fucking gone.” You moaned, hands grabbing at his thighs for something, anything, to hold onto. And then you felt it. His fingers slipped deeper. A third joined them and you gasped, arched, your whole body shaking as he filled you, stretched you, fucked you with his fingers like he was trying to break you apart.
“Oh… oh my God!”
“You feel that?” he growled, voice gone ragged now. “So fucking wet. You’re dripping down my hand.” He thrust his fingers in harder, deeper, faster and your hips jerked. Your body locked. “Come on, baby,” he moaned, nose pressed to your temple as his eyes stayed glued to the mirror. “Squirt for me.”
You whimpered as he pounded his fingers again, harder now, palm smacking between your thighs, your body barely keeping up, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until… “Give it to me.”
And you did. Your orgasm hit like lightning, sharp and brutal and wet. A gush of slick squirted out around his fingers, splashing across the mirror with a loud, obscene splatter. Your head dropped back to his shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry as your thighs spasmed, soaking his hand, the floor, and the glass in front of you.
Yunho choked on a moan. “Fuck…. fuck, baby…” he growled, watching the mess you made run down the mirror like it was sacred. But he didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow. He pounded his fingers back in, faster now, your body jolting with every thrust, overstimulated and soaked and shaking in his lap.
“Again,” he demanded, voice dark and filthy and reverent. “Show me. One more.” You couldn’t breathe. You could barely see. But then his fingers curled just right, again, again, hitting your g spot, and your body shattered. You screamed. Your thighs snapped shut, hips bucking hard as another hot gush burst from you, soaking his fingers and spraying across the mirror, louder this time. The glass dripped. The floor was wet. You were a fucking wreck in his lap.
And Yunho was groaning behind you like he was the one coming. “Holy fuck, look what you just did,” he gasped, rocking with you as you trembled in his hold. “You see that? Look at that fucking mirror. That’s you.” You sobbed, raw, wrecked, as he finally slowed his hand, fingers easing out of you, slick and soaked and still glistening with the mess you left behind.
Your breath was catching in bursts. Your thighs twitched, muscles spent and overstimulated, and Yunho’s arms were still wrapped around your waist like he hadn’t fully processed what just happened. Like he didn’t just pull two orgasms out of you that hit so hard you soaked his lap and painted the damn mirror.
But even still, as the aftershocks faded, you felt it. Him. Hard and hot against your lower back. Throbbing. Desperate. And when you stirred, shifting slightly in his lap, he groaned low and deep, forehead dropping to your shoulder before something snapped in his eyes again, but not the way it had earlier. This wasn’t him taking over. This was him giving in.
He shifted under you, arms unwrapping, hands settling at your waist as he adjusted his position, guiding you gently as he leaned back against the mirror. His bare, sweat drenched back met the cool glass, pressed into the exact spot your release had just splattered. You saw him flinch slightly, that chill making him hiss through his teeth, but he didn’t move. He braced his feet on the floor, bent his knees, and looked up at you like you were divine punishment.
You climbed into his lap. Still shaking. Still soaking. Your thighs spread wide over his, knees planted on the floor, and his dick brushed your inner thigh, wet from you already. You reached between you, gripping him, lining him up. You both moaned the second his tip slid through your folds. “Grip the bar,” he said, voice wrecked but calm, commanding in the softest way. “Take what you need.”
Your head turned. The metal balance bar that spanned the length of the mirror wall, usually used for stretching, was right there. You reached up and gripped it tight as Yunho watched. Watched as your thighs flexed, your breath caught, and your hips began to lower, slowly, sinking down onto him.
You both groaned. The stretch hit deep, thick and perfect, your body trembling as you took inch after inch until he was fully buried inside you, pressed so deep you saw your mouth fall open in the reflection. You rolled your hips once. Then again. Then you started riding him. Holding that bar like a fucking lever, you began bouncing in his lap, messy, hard, fast. The kind of movement that slapped skin to skin, that echoed in the studio, that left your legs burning and your head spinning.
You moaned, loud, reckless as Yunho’s hands gripped your ass, helping you slam down harder, but he didn’t take control. Not yet. He was watching you. Completely unhinged. Watching you above him, your body bouncing in his lap, your tits moving with every impact, your soaked thighs flexing as you fucked yourself on him.
“You feel that?” he gasped. “You hear that? That’s you, baby, listen to how wet you are, look at what you’re doing to me.” You cried out, grinding down harder, chasing that high again as your hands gripped the bar tighter. “Take it,” he growled, voice sharp. “You want it? Take it. Fuck me just like that…. yes… fuck!”
Your rhythm snapped faster, desperate now. And Yunho was completely wrecked. Head against the mirror. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Hands gripping you like he couldn’t believe he was still holding on. “Look at yourself,” he moaned, the words wrecked and reverent. “Look at you. You’re fucking made for this.”
Your legs were burning. Your grip on the mirror’s bar was white knuckled now, arms trembling as you pounded yourself down onto him. Wet slaps echoed around the studio, your thighs shaking, breath catching, and Yunho’s hands tightening on your waist like he knew you were close. So fucking close.
He was still letting you lead. Still letting you take what you needed. But his voice had gone wrecked, low and raspy and barely holding it together. “Come for me again… go on, baby, make a mess on me. That was it. Your whole body locked. The pressure snapped and your orgasm hit like a detonation. You screamed, legs jolting as you slammed down on him one last time, and then another gush.
Slick burst from you, spraying across his lap, your inner thighs, the floor between you. Your body collapsed forward slightly, shaking, the bar slipping from your grip as your arms gave out. Yunho was breathing like he’d just run a marathon, staring at you with wide eyes, dick twitching inside you, voice raw with awe. “Holy… fuck.”
But he didn’t wait. Didn’t give you time to float back down. He grabbed your waist, strong and steady, and shifted you. Gently. Possessively. He pulled you forward, off his lap, away from the mirror just a bit, until he could guide you down. Onto your hands and knees. Facing the mirror.
Your hair fell in your face. Your body still twitching from your climax. Your thighs soaked. Your back arched. Your pussy glistening, red and open and aching. You barely caught your breath before his lips were on your spine kissing a trail down from your shoulder blades. Tongue dragging. Teeth grazing.
You moaned, low and broken, trying to brace yourself as he grabbed your hips and pushed back in. You both groaned. The stretch hit deep, slower this time, thicker somehow, your body too raw to fight it, too needy to care as he bottomed out with a guttural curse, hips flush to your ass. Then stilled. Both of you stared at the mirror.
You, face slack, mouth open, chest heaving. Him, behind you, drenched in sweat, dick buried to the hilt, hands gripping your waist like he was claiming you. “You see it?” he murmured, breath hot against your back. “How full you are? How good you look like this?” You whimpered. “Good,” he growled. “Now keep watching.”
You could barely keep your arms steady. Your elbows buckled slightly, your body still twitching from the orgasm he’d just pulled out of you. Your vision blurred in the mirror, face flushed, lips parted, hair stuck to your cheeks in sweat damp strands as Yunho stood behind you, wide legged. Sweat dripping. Hands gripping your hips like he owned every inch of you. His back flexed with every breath, his dick buried deep inside you.
“You still with me?” he murmured, low and wrecked and you whimpered again as he started to move. Slow at first, hips rolling, dick dragging through your oversensitive heat, pulling soft gasps from your throat with every thrust. “Keep your eyes on the mirror,” he rasped. “You see how you look like this?”
You tried. Tried to lift your head, tried to lock eyes with the reflection, but your neck was shaking, your body too gone, too limp from everything he’d already pulled from you. So he grabbed a fistful of your hair. Not hard. Just enough to lift. To make you see. Your own reflection met you again, eyes glossy, mouth open, body rocking from the slow, deliberate thrusts he was grinding into you. And the he picked up the pace.
Each thrust sharper now. Harder. Faster. The sound of your ass meeting his hips echoed through the studio, wet and obscene and relentless.You dropped to your elbows, head lowering again with a cry, but his voice cracked through it. “No.” Slap. His palm met your ass, sharp and perfect and your moan shattered. “Look at yourself,” he growled. “Eyes up.”
You whimpered, lifting your head just enough to see your own face twisting in the mirror as his hips slammed into yours again. And again. And again. Slap. Another smack to your ass. Your hips jerked forward, the sting blooming into heat, your thighs shaking uncontrollably now as he pounded into you. Harder. Deeper. Desperate.
“Look at that,” he hissed. “You’re fucking dripping, taking every inch, look what you do to me.” Your mouth opened, no words, just wrecked sounds, helpless whines as your body jolted forward from the force of every thrust. He grabbed your waist again, dragging you back onto him with each snap of his hips, making sure you felt it. Making sure the mirror saw it.
You tried to speak. You couldn’t. Just a broken moan as your walls fluttered around him again. “Don’t you dare come yet,” he warned, breath ragged. “Not till I say.” His thrusts got faster. Vicious now. His abs tightening, muscles locked, dick hitting so deep you screamed. You were crying. Begging. Soaked. Barely able to hold yourself up anymore. And the mirror? It caught every second.
You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore. Your arms gave out, elbows buckling. Your cheek hit the hardwood, slick hair clinging to your face, breath leaving in ragged, choked sobs. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, your knees sliding apart under the force of his thrusts. Still, Yunho didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Not when your pussy was clenching around him with every stroke. Not when your slick was dripping down his thighs, pooling beneath both of you. Not when the mirror showed him everything.
But when your head dropped completely, when your moans turned to helpless, broken gasps, he growled deep in his chest. “Uh uh, no, baby. You’re not going anywhere.” You barely processed it before his arms wrapped around you. And in one dizzying motion, he pulled you up.Your back slammed to his chest. His dick still deep inside you.
You were trembling in his lap now, your body wrecked and slick, open in every direction as his hand wrapped around your throat. Not tight. Just enough. Enough to hold you. Keep you upright. Make you feel him. You gasped as his other hand slid down, between your thighs, fingers gliding through the mess he’d already made of you.
He didn’t slow. He started thrusting up into you now, from beneath, hips snapping with obscene force as he pounded into your soaked pussy with everything he had left. And then two of his fingers slipped inside with his dick and you screamed. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, eyes rolling back, your entire body seizing up in his lap. “Take it,” he snarled. “All of it.”
Your juices sloshed out of you with every brutal thrust, every curl of his fingers, every slap of skin on skin as he fucked you harder, deeper, filthier than ever before. The mirror showed it all. Your legs spread wide. Your breasts bouncing with every slam of his hips. His hand tight around your throat, the other buried in you as he split you open. And then you shattered.
You screamed his name, loud, hoarse, a sob of pleasure, as your orgasm ripped through you. A gush of slick sprayed from your core, soaking both of you, pouring down between your legs as your pussy clamped down around his dick and fingers, pulsing so hard he groaned through gritted teeth. “Fuuuuuck….”
He jerked inside you, hips twitching, arms locking you to him as he came, deep, hot, thick, filling you in long, pulsing waves as you milked every drop from him and your bodies went still. Your chest rose and fell in sync as his lips grazed your temple. “Hey…” he murmured, voice wrecked and low, “you okay?”
You blinked slowly, your lashes sticking together with sweat. Tried to form a word. Failed. All you managed was a very hoarse, very real, “Mmmmf.” Yunho huffed a laugh behind you as he nuzzled into your cheek, smiling like you’d just handed him the galaxy. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
You nodded against him, still twitching, every inch of your body buzzing like you’d been hit by lightning and then kissed back to life. And when he adjusted his grip to lift you gently off his lap, pulling his fingers out of you, you whimpered, thighs shaking.
“Shit, sorry,” he said quickly, cradling you, his hands suddenly so careful. “You really can’t feel your legs, huh?”
“No,” you whispered. “You ruined me.”
“I mean… that was kinda the goal.”
You weakly smacked his chest and he smiled as he scooped you up, holding you against him like he was scared you’d melt through the floor. Then he looked at the mirror, completely soaked, fogged up, streaked with handprints, smears of sweat and slick and sheer devastation.
“Okay… we are never gonna be allowed back in here again.”
“Worth it,” you mumbled.
“Oh, absolutely.”
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Yunho was feeling pretty damn good for a man who only got four hours of sleep and spent most of the night physically rearranging his girlfriend’s soul. He had iced coffee in one hand, his headphones slung around his neck, and a very self satisfied smirk he was trying not to wear too obviously.
He walked into the dance practice room first, glancing around with that casual strut of someone who thought he’d gotten away with something. And for the most part? He had.
Almost.
“Bro, did you spill soda on the mirror again?” Wooyoung’s voice cut through the room like a laser. He’d just come in with San, both of them holding protein shakes and looking at the giant wall of mirrors with identical scrunched up faces.
Yunho froze mid step. Behind him, Yeosang stopped walking.
“What?” San asked, stepping closer, blinking at the streaks. “That’s not soda…” He leaned in. “Are those… handprints? Footprints?”
Yunho coughed. Loudly. Shuffled his feet like a guilty golden retriever and pretended to look at the speaker setup. “Dunno,” he said. Too fast. Too casual. “Must be from, like… stretching.”
San frowned. “Stretching? Whose stretch looks like that…”
Yeosang, who had been eerily quiet, exhaled long and slow through his nose. Then turned his head, eyes narrowing on Yunho with the exasperation of a man who’d seen too much. Knows too much. “You didn’t clean the mirror,” he said flatly, lowly so just Yunho could hear. “You cleaned everything else and forgot the mirror.”
Yunho blinked but said nothing else and Yeosang just sighed, grabbing a sanitizing spray from the corner. “I’m not cleaning for you, I’m cleaning for the rest of us.”
Yunho just backed away slowly, silently considering changing his identity and moving to Canada as San’s voice echoed loudly.
“Some of it’s even on the floor!”
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"study session"
pairing: park seonghwa x reader word count: 2,3k genre: smut with a sprinkle of plot 😽 warnings: smut MDNI, intentional lowercase, established relationship!, pet names (pretty boy, baby, sweet girl, needy girl, naughty girl, cockslut, good girl), slightly mean dom!hwa and subby!reader, reader is freakayyyyy, reader and seonghwa have sex recorded (not here btw!), oral (m and f receiving), hair pulling, multiple orgasms (f), dirty talking! (hwa is a fucking freak!), swearing...like a lot, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!!), p in v, desk sex, squirting, moany hwa. pls let me know if there's any more!!!! a/n: hope you enjoy this one!! thank u for enjoying "earn it, cookie" so much! hope you all had a very merry christmas and happy holidays and y'all have a happy new year! taglist: @life-is-a-game-of-thrones taglist is open! requests are open! masterlist
SMUT BELOW THE CUT MDNI
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
the apartment was quiet, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft whispers of seonghwa muttering to himself as he studied being the only sounds that filled the apartment.
seonghwa was studying for his last final of the semester, and you were ovulating.
your boyfriend of almost three years knew that you were an absolute menace whenever your monthly cycle hit that week, when your fertility was at its highest and your horny-ness, even higher. even resorting to agreeing to let you use him whenever you needed to fulfill your needs.
and that's exactly what you were going to do.
you had been alone in your shared bedroom, scrolling through your gallery in boredom until you saw a particular picture of your boyfriend that ended up taking you to a particular locked album, which made your hand quickly travel down your pants and your mouth dry, aching for his cock in any way.
you resorted to watching a video you had both recorded previously. a video of you on your knees in between seonghwa's legs, as he gripped your hair in his hands and his own long black hair covered his face, letting you see only the knot of his brows furrowed in pleasure. safe to say your fingers were already toying with your bundle of nerves, all coated with slick and making lazy circles around it.
you continued watching, seeing how he threw his head back, the motion moving his hair out of his face and letting you see his mouth open in pleasure, letting out the filthiest moans as you clenched your thighs both in the video and in that moment around your hand.
oh, you needed him, and you needed him bad.
but you probably shouldn't bother him as he was concentrated on studying for his final.
but, you didn't need to distract him, right?
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
seonghwa kept unconsciously muttering to himself, reading the information in his notes while he had his noise-canceling headphones on, completely blocking out any noise that could distract him. completely unaware of the way the door slowly creaked open and completely clueless to the way his girlfriend slipped through the room and got below the desk and in between his legs. he only noticed once he felt a pair of hands come in contact with the waistband of his sweatpants.
"fuck!" he yelped out, startled. quickly moving back the chair to see you crouched below the desk, your eyes a different kind of dark with a glow he knew too well, and your plush lips swollen from how much you'd been biting them.
"baby?" he asked, removing the headphones from his ears. "you scared the ever-loving shit out of me. what are you doing down there?" he asked, feigning cluelessness.
"i need you, and you're busy." you said matter-of-factly. "didn't want to distract you and keep you from studying, so i figured i would fulfill one of our fantasies" you added, you hands snaking up his thighs and landing again on the waistband of his sweatpants. "c'mon, keep studying, pretty boy." you encouraged him, making his dick, that was already hardening at the mere thought of you wanting to suck him off while he studied, twitch in his boxers.
"o-okay" he agreed with a shaky voice, trying to hold his composure. he slightly lifted his hips to allow you to pull down his sweats and underwear, which you did in a quick move, the fabric pooling at his ankles.
he took in a shaky breath, removed his headphones from around his neck, and placed them on the desk. he began reading his notes again, trying to ignore the soft kisses you were giving him on the plush skin of his thighs.
he tried really hard to concentrate, until a deep moan escaped him once he felt your warm mouth wrap around him. he gripped the edge of the desk, fighting the urge to sink his hand in your hair and push you down until you gagged on his cock.
you began lowering your head slowly, your tongue swirling around the underside of his shaft, feeling every vein on it until his head touched the back of your throat. you pulled back just as slowly, ripping a sharp breath from your boyfriend while he tried to continue reading.
your pace was slow, hollowing out your cheeks every time you sank down on him, your hand slowly moving up and down on what didn't fit yet in your mouth.
seonghwa's knuckles had gone white with how hard he was gripping the edge of the desk, hanging on for dear life, until your pace started quickening, a small moan vibrating around his cock that sent a jolt through his spine.
"fuck it." he muttered and tangled his hand in your hair, making you sink further down into him. "go deeper, baby." he moaned out, looking down at you at the same time you looked up at him, making you clench around nothing and whimper at the eye contact, sending the vibration straight to his dick.
you obeyed, of course, sinking down as deep as you could, the tip of your nose almost tickling the skin of his pelvis. "fuck. yeah, just like that." he moaned a little louder this time, his head falling back in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of his skull while you began moving again, his hand still tight around your hair while helping you set a pace he enjoyed more.
you jaw was sore already, your thighs were as clenched as you could have them and you were pretty sure there was a little puddle of slick where you were kneeling on the floor, the beautiful moans your boyfriend let out from how good you were making him feel, almost making you cum completely untouched. you pulled back with a soft 'pop', your chest heaving, lips slick with spit and precum, and eyes glassy.
"holy shit, you look so sexy like that" seonghwa cried out once he looked down at you again, he pulled his chair back and patted his thighs. "c'mere, sweet girl. i'll make you feel good."
in a mere instant, you were straddling him, his hands quickly found a home in your thighs, slowly moving them up below your (his) giant t-shirt, grunting once he noticed you were completely bare under the fabric.
he kissed every inch of your body that was within his reach, grabbing your hands and leaving soft kisses on the back of each one, making you blush and squirm in his lap. he continued until the fabric of the shirt made it impossible to kiss more skin up your arms. then he moved to your face, he kissed your forehead, temples, cheeks, and the tip of your nose before kissing your lips deeply, swallowing the small whimper that escaped you.
once he pulled away from the kiss, he grabbed your hips and helped you sit on the desk, quickly removing the shirt from your body and taking his own off. he knelt down on the floor, coming face-to-face with your wet sex.
"hwa, please" you whimpered as he began kissing the inside of your thighs. "i need you, baby, please." you asked while your hands tangled in his hair, trying to inch him closer to your pussy.
"since you're asking so nicely" he said, words muffled in your skin as he licked up your slit, making you moan out while you threw your head back in pleasure, recreating the scene from the video you had been watching minutes earlier, only now the roles were reversed.
his tongue worked wonders on you, lapping at your bundle of nerves like it was his last meal. his lips closed around your clit, sucking on it in a way that made you cry out, your hands sinking in his hair, tugging at the —now short— black strands, only motivating him further to eat you out until you came undone on his tongue, and that you did.
"hwa. fuck! 'm close" you announced breathlessly, your hips now rutting against his face. "such a needy girl" he had whispered seconds ago, before burying his tongue in your sweet cunt, his nose rubbing against your abused clit.
your orgasm came crashing down on you like a tidal wave, overwhelming you with pleasure. your mouth fell open on a silent scream as seonghwa licked every single drop of slick that came out of you, until your thighs were shaking and closing around his head.
"naughty girl, you said you weren't going to distract me" he said with a small smirk while lifting off the floor and coming face to face to you, kissing your lips deeply, tongue dancing with yours, making you taste yourself on him. "you're just a dumb little cockslut, aren't you?" he whispered on the skin of your jaw before slightly nipping it, only being able to whimper at his filthy words in your fucked-out state.
his hands grabbed the soft flesh of your thighs and helped you move to the very edge of the desk, you wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed up his neck. "i am, just for you." you whispered in his ear with a soft moan once you felt the tip of his hard dick against your overstimulated clit. "please, fuck me, baby." you begged, your nails already leaving small crescent marks on the skin of his back. his beautifully honey skin already glistening with a slight sheen of sweat.
he wasted no time obeying, lowering one hand to help guide him into your warm cunt, a small moan leaving him once he began pushing inside slowly. "you feel so fucking good" he whined, his eyes closing and his head leaning forward, your foreheads touching. you both moaned at the same time once he was fully inside. he gave you just a second to adjust to him before he began moving, both of your mouths falling open in silent cries of pleasure.
his pace quickly turned ruthless, the papers on the desk sliding around and the same desk thumping against the wall, marked by his movements. your moans quickly filled the room. red, hot lines now adorned seonghwa's back, thanks to your carefully manicured nails.
"ffffuck, baby, please." you didn't even know what you were begging for; the only thing you wanted was him, and you wanted him deep in your pussy.
"look at you taking me so good" he moaned out, pulling back to see where both of you joined in the most carnal way possible. "pussy fuckin' made for me. i'm going to pump you so full of my cum you won't need me for the rest of the day. then you'll let me fuckin' study" he added with furrowed brows. however, there was not even a shade of anger in his voice. "little needy girl, can't even let her boyfriend study for his finals because she's such a cockslut" he grunted. at the same time, his pace began growing sloppy. you were too fucked out to form any coherent words, so you could only throw your head back and moan out his name in agreement to anything he said.
"yes! hwa– mmmmh" you almost screamed once his thumb started circling your clit at the same time he pounded ruthlessly into you.
"my pussy." he growled in your ear, pace relentless. at the same time, his moves turned erratic, his high approaching. "fuckin' made for me, right?" he asked you, grabbing a handful of the hair at the base of your head and yanking slightly, just enough for you to see him while he fucked you stupid. "answer me or i swear i'll fucking leave you like this" he threatened, his grip in your hair tightening.
"yes! yes! only made for you, hwa!" your words stumbled out in a rush, clenching your eyes shut while your face scrunched in pleasure. "please, 'm so close, baby" you begged, your cunt clenching around so deliciously you made him moan.
and your sweet boyfriend was never going to say no to his beautiful girl when she begged like that. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, pounding into you with such strength that you could hear the desk creaking beneath your body. he continued his movements on your clit, until your nails sank in the skin of his back, your mouth fell open in a high-pitched moan, and you came again, this time around his cock, hard. slick gushing out of you in spurts that landed on seonghwa's belly, the carpeted floor, and some droplets on the desk.
"fffuck, that's a good girl" he groaned, your pussy clenching around his cock so hard it triggered his release as well. his movement came to a stop slowly, his hips flush against yours, making you feel him painting your insides with thick, warm ropes of his cum.
he kissed your forehead and eased out of you, both whimpering at the loss. he helped you jump up from the desk to wrap your thighs around his hips, taking you to your bedroom. he cleaned you up and layed down with you, kissing your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your skin until you fell asleep in his arms.
he eased his way out of the bed and walked slowly to his study room, careful not to wake you up. he put his clothes back on and sat down on his chair, letting out a soft laugh once he picked up his notes, noticing the now dried droplets of your arousal in the paper.
"i need to have study sessions more often if it's going to end up like that" he giggled to himself, leaving the notes in his desk and going back to bed with you.
safe to say, he didn't go back to study that day.
or the next.
What We Do in the Shadows
vampire!jaehyun x human!afab!reader
summary: your roommate's a vampire??? a/n: hiiii here's another silly halloween fic, i can't believe it's almost halloween <3 i have 2 or 3 more themed fics left so hopefully i can get those out this week should be skz, svt and another nct one, but don't hold me to that. not proofread since i'm just busting these out as soon as i can ok love u so much bye!! cw: (minors dni) smut, reader gets called princess, roommate!jaehyun, nipple play, oral (receiving), jaehyun feeds off of you, jaehyun uses mind control commands during sex (not dubcon), unprotected p in v (be safe!!!), creampie (when do i not do this honestly), slight jealousy/possessiveness, if there's anything else lmk!!! wc: 4.2k
Work was kicking your ass. Your boss had been so bitchy all week, getting on you for issues that had nothing to do with your job description. Not to mention your coworkers sucked, and you weren’t being paid nearly enough to deal with their incompetence. The weekend was calling to you like a siren song, and you were ready to dive in. You were also looking forward to seeing your very hot roommate. Jaehyun.
Jaehyun was so pretty. You didn’t really get to see him often since he typically worked night shifts so your schedules didn’t really align, and even if he didn’t work, he was exclusively nocturnal. You took advantage of every second you could get with him. When you initially put out an online ad looking for a roommate, your friends were awfully concerned you were opening yourself up to living with a freak or killer, but you really lucked out. He was way too nice and a very good roommate. He never stole your food, he always minded his business, and he was really easy to cohabitate with. You got to spend time together on the weekends and bonded over movies you both enjoyed growing up.
“Honey, I’m home,” you sang as Jaehyun appeared to be finishing up in the kitchen.
“Here you go– I had a feeling today was going to be super exhausting for you, so I went ahead and made you dinner,” he smiles, showing off his pearly whites.
“Jaeeeeee– you’re so sweet, I’ll cry,” you pout. “Will you be eating with me?”
“Nah, I already ate. I just wanted to make sure you were fed before I left for work,” he beams, giving you a quick hug before walking out the door. God, what a cutie.
You were definitely exhausted, but you also had plans with your friends today, and you were not going to let your job get in the way of you living your life and having a good time. You finished up your food and got ready for your night out. Soon, you find yourself at a club with your three best friends, and you need to move your body.
“Guys, let’s go dance!”
Haechan and Jeno groan, but luckily, Jaemin is a kindred spirit and leads you out onto the dance floor. You’re feeling the bass thrum through your body, moving without a care in the world. Jaemin’s letting you back it up on him when you see him. Jaehyun. He’s at the club. Chatting up a girl. He said he was going to be at work, and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t work at the club. Even if he did, it doesn’t seem like he’s currently working because he’s walking out of the club with said girl.
“Gimme a sec! Gotta go to the bathroom–” you yell into Jaemin's ear. He makes his way back to your friends, and you go to follow Jaehyun, just to say hi (see what the fuck is going on). You see the pair walk out of the club, and you’re just a little ways behind them. When you finally exit the club, they’re nowhere to be found. You start walking in one direction only to hear noises coming from the alley behind you. You peek around the corner and see Jaehyun with his lips on this random girl. She’s not who you’d pictured him being interested in, but hey to each their own. Jaehyun’s pinning her against the wall now and you should probably give him some privacy, but the jealousy and envy keeps you watching. I mean, at least he isn’t bringing her home. So she doesn’t matter that much, you try to reason with yourself. You’re in your own head until you hear a squeal.
You bring your focus back and see that Jaehyun is seemingly giving this girl a hickey or something, paying a lot of attention to her neck. Something's wrong though because Jaehyun pulls away, and you see that there’s blood everywhere. He licks the blood clean off of her before wiping his face. You don’t think he’s seen you yet, so you run back into the club, panickedly rejoining your friends.
“Whoa, Y/N, is everything okay?” Jeno asks, checking you for any injuries, not seeing anything visually wrong with you.
“There was just this weird guy. I don’t know– I just got freaked out,” you lie, looking at the floor.
“Okay, let’s get you home, princess,” Jaemin says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
“Can I stay the night at your place?” you look up at all of them with doe eyes. How could they say no to that?
“Of course you can, sweetie– Haechan says, booping your nose. You knew you had convinced them with your lie because Haechan always caught you in your lies and he was not that sweet to you normally. While the reason you gave them was fake, your fear was real. Your roommate was a vampire. You couldn’t be around Jaehyun right now and needed to avoid him for the rest of your life, if possible.
Unfortunately you couldn’t hide forever– you had a wonderful weekend at the boys’ house, but you had to go back to work eventually. Sunday rolls around, and you try to get back to your home before sunset (now that you know why he avoids the sunlight). When you open the door to your apartment, all the curtains in the house are closed, making it darker than it should be. Fuck. Your worst nightmare comes true when you walk in a bit and see that Jaehyun is sitting on the couch waiting for you.
“Y/N– where have you been? You didn’t answer any of my texts,” he stands up to greet you. He’s not giving you any indication that he knows about you knowing, so you try to play dumb.
“Yeah sorry, Jae. I just sorta got caught up with other things,” you respond apologetically, struggling to hold eye contact.
“Well, what’d you do this weekend? I kinda missed seeing you since the weekend’s like the only chance we really get to talk and spend time,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck shyly. Normally, you’d swoon, but right now, you were terrified of what he could possibly want to do with you alone.
“Oh, nothing crazy, really. I just hung out with the guys Friday night and then stayed at their place all weekend–”
“Oh. You– you stayed at their house? Like your guy friends’ house?”
“Yes?” you confirm, confused at his question. You've stayed the night at friends’ houses plenty of times, and never before has he asked where you were. “Well, I’m exhausted from spending time with those losers, so I’m gonna go hit the shower and decompress in my room.”
“Oh, okay. Well, you can reach out if you need anything since I’m off tonight,” he smiles.
Perfect. Your roommate is a vampire, and you’re just supposed to act normal about it. You had good distractions over the weekend in the shape of your friends, but there were no longer any distractions to protect you from the fear of your current situation. What exactly are the extent of his powers? Has he secretly been taking your blood while you sleep? Does he even actually have a job? How does he pay rent???
It just seems like you can’t win because you have no idea how to act around Jaehyun anymore, and he is more interested than ever in spending time with you. You come home from work on Monday afternoon to find him seated on the couch with all of the curtains closed again.
“Hi, cutie!” he says, hugging you as soon as he sees you. You tense at his touch and if he notices, he doesn’t mention it. “How was work?”
“Ugh, it was work. We fired a girl, and now I have to pick up the slack,” you groan, collapsing onto the couch. He pouts and runs into the kitchen only to return with a plate of the best smelling food.
“Well, I made your favorite! So, go ahead and eat up. You need to replenish the energy that the job drained,” he instructed. “Do you wanna watch a movie or maybe a show to just get your mind off of things?”
After being stuck on the couch with Jaehyun for hours yesterday, you needed an out to avoid him in your own house. It was impossible to explain your jumpiness while watching an episode of Bluey, which you only put on because you were jumping at everything else you tried watching.
You decided the best way to avoid him was to remix the way you avoided him over the weekend: inviting one of your best friends to stay with you at your place. Jaemin is the only one that’s available on Tuesday nights/Wednesday mornings, so he’s officially your new favorite. He’s also the first of the boys to ever come over, and he’s very excited to meet the hot roommate you always talk about.
When you got home from work, you made the excuse that you needed to shower to get out of any extra face time with Jaehyun. He suddenly doesn’t have to work, and it only adds to your confusion as to how he pays rent. Is he stealing money from the people he bleeds dry?
You’re freshly showered in your bedroom when you hear a knock at your front door. You rush to get dressed, but you hear your roommate beat you to the door.
“Hi,” Jaehyun greeted, not knowing who this strange man was.
“Hi! You must be Jaehyun. Is Y/N here?” Jaemin chirps.
“Y/N? Who are–” Jaehyun starts before you interrupt him.
“Hey Jae, this is Jaemin. Jaemin, this is Jaehyun,” you introduce, “Jaemin’s sleeping over tonight– I promise we won’t be disruptive,” you say as politely as you can.
“Hi, princess– where can I put this? I brought your favorite snacks, but obviously the ice cream needs to be stored,” he grins.
The petname makes Jaehyun sick. He doesn’t know how to act so he gives a tightlipped smile and excuses himself to go to his room. When did you get a boyfriend? Why wouldn’t you say something to him? Is that why you’re acting so weird around him? It feels like he missed his chance to make his move and seeing that guy makes him furious. It’s even more frustrating because Jaemin is actually super attractive and definitely hot enough to be with you. He’s overwhelmed with negative emotions but the strongest of the bunch is jealousy. That guy is going to get to sleep in the same bed as you and do who knows what with you.
However, in your eyes, Jaehyun’s acting so rude because of Jaemin’s presence. He immediately becomes cold and doesn’t hold any of the warmth he usually does when he looks at you. Jaemin must be already doing his job in protecting you. He’s an obstacle. Now it definitely feels like Jaehyun was getting ready to kill you and suck out all of your blood. That has to be why he’s been so nice to you and feeds you and does all the nice things. He just wants to feed off of you and kill you. Thank god for Jaemin.
Jaemin is no longer your favorite because he has a stupid date. Who has a date on a Wednesday night? Fortunately, you were able to convince Jeno into coming over by promising you wouldn’t force him to go out this weekend.
You didn’t have to make the excuse of showering this time since Jaehyun was in his room. It seems like he might actually ‘go to work,’ but you don’t care since you already have protection coming over. Once again, you are in your room getting dressed when you hear a knock on the door. Once again, Jaehyun gets the door.
“Uh, hi– is Y/N here?” Jeno asks shyly.
“Who are you?” Jaehyun snarks. Jeno is completely thrown off by the aggression.
“Um, I’m Jeno. I’m here to see Y/N.”
Jaehyun is about to respond when you come just in time to save Jeno from his fate.
“Hi Jae, Jeno’s sleeping over tonight, but it shouldn’t be an issue,” you smile as real as you can.
“I have work anyway,” he huffs, before walking out the door.
“Whoa, what’s up with that guy?” Jeno asks once Jaehyun’s gone.
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“I mean, why was he so angry about me coming to see you?”
“I’m sure he was just in a bad mood, nothing to do with you coming over,” you reply, not wanting to divulge everything that’s happened.
“Are you sure? Have you guys ever done… anything? Maybe he’s jealous,” Jeno’s lips slowly curl into a smirk.
“He does not want me like that, Jen,” you laugh, leading him to your room.
Thursday night– you’re a goner. You have no one to save you and you have nowhere to go. You aren’t sure what’s going to happen, but the final nail in the coffin hits when Jaehyun comes up from behind you while you’re in the kitchen. You’re stirring a pot on the stove when you feel his hand on your shoulder.
“Please don’t kill me!!” you scream, jumping away, nearly collapsing onto the floor. Your eyes are squeezed shut, head tucked into your shoulder as you wait for your doom.
“I knew that was you outside the club last week!”
“What–” you respond confused.
“I mean you saw… didn’t you?” he asks.
“Um, I– I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply uncomfortably, patting invisible dust off your clothes as you move back to the stove.
“Come on, Y/N. Don’t play dumb. We both know you saw me– you just yelled ‘don’t kill me’!!”
“Yeah– I yell that everytime I’m scared…” you lie.
“Look… how much did you see?” he asks. You stay quiet and stare directly into the pot, and he sighs, “...I can pry it out of you but I'd really rather have a normal conversation.”
That statement terrifies you. You assume he means it as a threat, but he actually means he doesn’t want to use mind control to get the truth out of you. He just wants to talk, but you don’t know that so– rambling.
“I saw you in the club and I was confused because you said you were working, but I saw you walk out with a girl and then I saw you making out and stuff and then–” you stop.
“Then?” he asks, gently encouraging you to continue.
“I saw you bite her,” you whisper.
“...Wait, so you were peeping.” Jaehyun realizes.
“What? Peeping??” you squeal.
“Yes, peeping. It was like a solid 5 minutes between me exiting the club and feeding off of that girl.”
“Oh yeah? Were you counting?”
“Yeah, actually. I had errands to run, and I wanted to be home by midnight to see you before you went to sleep,” you freeze at his words, shocked that he cared so much. “Why did you watch for so long?”
“Huh?” you croaked.
“Are you like a voyeur?” he teases, “Do you just like to… watch people hook up?”
“Jaehyun, I don’t–”
He closes you in. He pins you against the counter, one arm on either side of you, turning off the stove. “Or is it because it was me? Did you want to watch because of me, princess?” he uses the nickname that made him so upset previously and it’s certainly having an effect on you. Your head already feels cloudy at his proximity to you. You’ve never seen his face this close before, and god, you already feel like you have tears running down your legs.
“Did you wish that you were the one I pinned against that wall in the alley?” his lips ghost over your ear when he says, “Did you wish you were the one I fed on?”
“I– I, um, huh?”
“And here I was getting jealous that my hot roommate has started bringing over these hot single men and doing god knows what with them,” he starts leaving kisses on your cheek, temples, forehead, nose, but never your lips making you needy. “Do you want them?”
“What? No-”
“Do you want me?”
You look up at the ceiling to avoid eye contact. He uses his thumb and index finger on your chin to bring your attention back to him.
“I'm only going to ask you one more time. Do you want me?” he asks seriously, searching your face for any hesitation.
Fuck. “Yes,” you whimper
He crashes his lips onto yours so hard and it’s already so intoxicating. You don’t know if it’s his vampire-ness (?) or whatever, but god, he tastes amazing. You’ve honestly wanted him since the second he moved in, but actually feeling his body pressed against yours and his mouth recklessly moving against yours? It’s so much better than you could’ve imagined. You break apart for air and you realize you’re still confused about some things.
“Wait,” you pant, “so are you going to kill me?”
“What? No, I don’t kill people–” he replies, brows furrowed, desperate to have your mouth on his again.
“But that girl? In the alley?”
“Yeah, you were drunk and you left before I handed her over to her friend. There’s– I guess you could call them volunteers? It’s a very lowkey operation, but people volunteer to donate blood to people with my… condition. It was totally consensual, but sometimes it gets more intimate, and that’s what you saw.
“It gets intimate?” you ask, “Are you just trying to feed off of me?”
“No– I want you. So bad. Probably more than I’ve wanted anyone ever, and that’s saying a lot. I’ve been alive for a long time–”
“How long?” you interrupt.
“We can talk about that later. I don't have to feed off of you. I only feed once every few days.”
“What if…” you start, “What if I wanted you to feed off of me?”
He drops his head to your shoulder to try to calm himself because fuck, that’s so hot. He feels like he has never been as hard as he is right now. He courageously pulls away and looks you in the eye again.
“Do you? Want me to feed off of you, I mean.”
“Maybe… just– do you like me?” you ask, inadvertently batting your eyelashes at him. You’re actually going to make him lose his mind.
“Baby, is it not clear to you that I like you and I want you all to myself? I was losing my shit over you having the guys here sleeping over in your room and shit. Of course, I like you. I might even lo–” he stops himself, eyes wide.
“What? You might even what?” you smile, “Jae, don’t tell me that a scary vampire fell in love with little ol’ me.”
“Princess. Don’t act like I'm the only one that’s affected. I bet if I slide my hand down those shorts of yours, I'll feel just how much you like me.”
You’re holding your breath. Jaehyun is looking at you and his eyes have never looked darker. It’s only when you release your breath that he dives right back into kissing you. His kisses are so much hungrier and needier. His lips move to your jaw, leaving kisses down to your neck. He starts tonguing and lightly nibbling on your neck, and you feel a rush of wetness in your undies. He uses his superhuman strength and effortlessly lifts you onto the counter, still kissing and sucking on your neck.
“Can I?” he asks, playing with the hem of your shirt.
“Take it all off.” you sigh.
He quickly strips off your top, and he groans at the fact that your boobs are immediately available to him. Jaehyun immediately latches onto a nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud while his hand squeezes the other. He moans and grunts as he worships your breasts making sure to give both equal attention. You start getting restless, squeezing your thighs together as you moan at the sensations. Jaehyun notices and doesn’t waste any time.
Jaehyun helps you wiggle off your bottoms and just stares at your core. You’re so wet, and you know it. You can feel the uncomfortable wetness and the coolness of the room makes you shiver. You go to close your legs, but Jaehyun holds them open. “Keep your legs open,” he tells you, but the voice is distorted and echoes. Your legs abruptly open as wide as is comfortable and stay that way despite your desire to close them. You look down at him with a look of confusion.
“Mind control, sweetheart. I’d hold your legs open, but I’d rather keep my hands busy with other things,” your roommate smirks.
He begins by licking a stripe up your slit, collecting all the wetness on his tongue.
“Fuck, you taste so good, baby. So much better than my imagination. I’d stay here forever if you let me,” he mumbles in between licking and sucking on your clit. The stimulation feels so good and every muscle in your body is tensing with the need to shut your legs around his head, and your legs will not move.
As Jaehyun continues sucking on your clit, one of his hands moves up to toy with your tits while the other sticks two fingers in your hole. You yelp at the stretch, and he chuckles against your cunt.
“I need to fuck you now. So sorry, but I need to stretch you out as fast as possible–”
He fucks his fingers into you, scissoring his digits and stretching you out for him. You’re whining and moaning and squirming at the building pressure in your abdomen. Jaehyun’s desperate to see you fall apart for him, so he adds another finger and sucks harder on your clit. The combination of the stretch and pressure on your bundle of nerves sends you soaring. Waves of pleasure wash over you as you convulse on the counter, still unable to close your legs as he fingers you through your high. As you come down, he shoots up, desperate to taste your lips again and he kisses you softly this time.
“How are you feeling, baby?”
“Good,” you mumble with a dopey smile.
“Are you done?” he says, biting back a laugh at how gone you are.
“No,” you pout, “Want youuuuu–”
“Are you sure?”
Instead of answering, you launch yourself at him, kissing his neck, immediately finding his sweet spot and paying all of your attention to it. He melts and picks you up so he can take you to his room. You’re still sucking on his neck when he lays you down on his bed and goes back to kissing you. The kisses are no longer aggressive. The neediness is still there, but now it’s filled more with yearning.
Somewhere in between kisses, you realize Jaehyun has stripped and is lining up with your entrance, breaking away from you only to ask if you’re ready. You nod and he slowly buries himself inside you, and you feel every inch. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had, but the discomfort doesn’t last long. Or at least, you don’t notice because he does not stop kissing you. He makes sure to swallow all of your whines and you swallow all of his groans.
“Fuck, baby. You feel so good– I’m not gonna last,” he groans, eyebrows knit together.
Jaehyun continues slowly pounding into you, almost bringing you both to the edge. His lips move back to your neck.
“Please–” you moan.
“What do you need, baby?” he asks, his thrusts getting harder.
“Feed off of me, Jae,” you breathe.
“Fuck,” he groans, immediately latching onto your neck and tasting you. Your taste is so overwhelming and he fucks you harder and deeper than he had been. The combination of him sucking on your blood and increasing speed rips your orgasm out of you. You feel a pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever felt.
Your orgasm causes Jaehyun’s, and he shoots his warmth deep into you, moaning against your throat. He has to forcibly stop himself from completely draining you because you taste too good. He licks at the wound and makes sure to clean you up. He pulls out of you and stares in awe as he watches his cum leak out of you.
“Fuck. Holy shit. Fuck–” he babbles, “That’s too good. Everything about you tastes so good, baby.” He continues whispering praises and leaving kisses all over you. He tells you how pretty you are and how good you did for him. Jaehyun gets up and fully cleans you up, getting you ready to spend the night in his room. You lay your head on his chest and try to catch your breath.
“So… are you still going to feed off volunteers?” you ask timidly.
“If you’ll let me feed off of you, then absolutely not. You taste so insanely good– I don’t need anyone else. Regardless, you’re all mine now.
“Oh, am I?” you flirt, “I don’t remember being asked.” You smirk and lift your head to look up at him.
“Can I please be your boyfriend? I am not above begging,” he says more serious than you expected.
“Yes of course you can,” you smile and give him a little peck.
“Also,” Jaehyun starts, “Please don’t let your friends sleep over anymore. They’re way too good looking.” You start dying of laughter at his jealousy.
“It’s not funny!” he whines.
divider by @/strangergraphics
Good Riddance
black cat!wonwoo x afab!witch!reader
summary: you're a witch, and you come across the cutest black cat only to find out there's more to him than meets the eye a/n: happy october! this is (hopefully) the first of my spooky fics this month, hope ya like it. wonwoo come home, the kids miss you </3 tw/cw: (minors dni) smut, service top!wonwoo (kinda), toxic boyfriend!mingyu mentioned, light jealousy, gaslighting, unprotected p in v (be safe out there), creampie, praise, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of witchcraft, magic powers, and familiars, wonwoo turns into a human wc: 4.7k
PROLOGUE
You were a bit of a late bloomer when it came to being a witch. There were signs here and there as you were growing up, little occurrences that were unexplainable or strange coincidences, but you were adopted, so you had no way of knowing that your parents happened to be fairly powerful witches. Or that these powers were seemingly passed down to you now. Luckily, a long lost aunt found you at the ripe age of 23 and reached out to you. She explained everything. Your parents had passed long ago and gave you up for your safety. She asked if you wanted to learn, and slowly but surely, she helped you to grow your powers and get to where you are now.
Your life wasn’t exceptionally different after honing your powers, though it did come with some perks, of course. Things often worked in your favor because of magic, but you had absolutely no interest in delving into darker types of magic that had to do with controlling other people or their thoughts and feelings. You didn’t want to take advantage of anyone or anything and luckily, your aunt’s coven felt the same.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖
You were walking home after a coven meeting when you saw the most beautiful black cat on a stoop.
“Hi, cutie,” you coo, reaching out and letting the kitty smell you before petting it. The sweet feline rubbed up against your hand and started purring loudly. “Oh, you’re just a loving little sweetheart, aren’t you? I wish I had food for you,” you pout, petting him a bit more before resuming your walk. A few steps into your journey, you turn to find you aren’t alone anymore- the stray was now walking alongside you. You didn’t think he would actually follow you all the way home, but lo and behold, he was now pawing at your front door waiting for you to unlock it and allow him entry.
You wouldn’t normally take in a stray or even entertain the concept of getting a pet. You were a relatively busy person and knew you couldn’t handle the responsibility of taking in a fur baby. But something was telling you to keep this animal around.
“Well, I guess I should come up with a name for you,” you say more to yourself than to him as you take your shoes off at the front door.
“Meow.”
That’s weird. You could’ve sworn you heard a meow, but your brain is understanding something else entirely.
“I’m sorry, I must be losing my mind- I really must be if I’m talking to a cat- but did you say your name is Wonwoo?” you ask, looking at the cat, scared of it actually replying.
“Meow,” he confirms looking up at you.
Okay, so you really are losing your mind. You start thinking about who to call. Your aunt hadn’t mentioned anything about having conversations with animals but maybe it was rare and not worth mentioning off the bat? Or maybe you were actually full blown, need-to-be-hospitalized, experiencing-psychosis level losing it.
As you’re pondering upon what your future will look like from the inside of the psych ward, Wonwoo the cat is delicately stepping on furniture to get to your bookshelf where he calmly knocks over a book onto the floor, pulling you out of your thoughts. You flinch at the noise and walk over to reprimand the little fluff ball who was seemingly desperate for attention and also freaking you out.
“Wonwoo, what are you doing?” you groan before looking down at the book. It was facing up, which was weird, and it was open to the first page of a chapter called “Familiars.” You read the first paragraph and realized what was going on.
Your aunt had mentioned that familiars were a thing but that not every witch had them. She said that since you hadn’t found one by this point, you likely wouldn’t have one. She tried to comfort you by telling you that they were unnecessary, but you did feel kind of left out. She didn’t provide any specific details on what they looked like though, just that they typically found you as a teenager around the time your powers show up. She didn’t share more because she pitied you for not having one since you didn’t notice your powers until later in life. Your brain came up with the image of a familiar- you thought it would look like this scary looking humanoid thing, or even a demon. Instead, you have this cute little kitty cat.
“Wait, so you’re my familiar?”
“Yes,” he meowed in response, stretching as he made his way over to you.
“Okay, I’m going to have to get used to the whole understanding meows thing, but this is kinda insane. I guess I gotta get you some food and treats or something, Nonu,” you ramble, taking a seat on the couch, trying to think logically, “Do you eat regular food and treats? Wait, is it okay if I call you Nonu? It’s just so cute and you might be a magical being but you’re also so adorable-”
Wonwoo hops onto your lap, rubbing against you and purring in satisfaction, confirming his appreciation of the cute nickname.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖
Wonwoo was the perfect addition to your life. It was exactly like the book said- he was basically there to serve you and make your life easier, though you didn’t really like the concept of him being expected to bow to your every whim.
You knew a lot of witches treated familiars like slaves, and you hated the idea of someone having done that to Wonwoo in the past. He helped you, of course, but you also tried to make his life better in return. He seemed to be satisfied with hearty meals and loads of affection. It was a special connection between the two of you, one that you’d never experienced. And it was a connection your boyfriend wasn’t the biggest fan of.
“It’s weird. Wonwoo is weird, he’s a weird cat-” he whispers, glancing over at your cat like it was listening to him (which he was).
“Mingyu, he’s not weird- he’s just a cat.” you reply blankly.
Your boyfriend didn’t know anything about your magic powers, and you preferred to leave it that way. It was honestly for the best. He probably wouldn’t be the biggest fan if he knew that your cat was in fact there to serve you as a very special companion in your life and was not just a regular every day kitty cat.
“It’s like he’s always watching us-” he whines.
“Baby, he’s just a really protective pet. He has separation anxiety, so he likes to be able to see me, that’s all. It’s not really that big of a deal!” you try to comfort. You use the same argument you’ve used for the last year to attempt to defend your sweet familiar from your boyfriend’s grievances. Mingyu, as always, is not having it.
“He hates me- he’s always trying to get in between us, and have you realized that our sex life has almost completely evaporated since you got him? Also what kind of a name is Wonwoo?” he asks, rolling his eyes.
“He doesn’t hate you, Mingyu- you’re being dramatic-”
Wonwoo hated Mingyu. Like despised, abhorred, loathed. Absolutely could not stand the guy. Wonwoo had been alive for thousands of years and never in his life had he encountered a man he hated so much.
Mingyu was always late picking you up for dates. He never listened to you- whether it was listening to you vent about your problems or listening to you when you asked him to do the dishes or do you a favor. He practically ignored you unless you were giving him validation.
Sometimes, Wonwoo would follow you on your dates to make sure you were safe but also to spy and gather more reasons to hate Mingyu. Unfortunately for Wonwoo (fortunately for you), Mingyu wasn’t cheating on you, but he wasn’t completely innocent either. He was constantly checking out other women and even flirting if you happened to be in the restroom.
He was actually quite useless, and Wonwoo was getting tired of him. He even makes you pay for food every time you go out! He also makes you pay for delivery orders whenever you order in at home. He makes more money than you for fuck’s sake! The worst part, though, (to Wonwoo at least) was that Mingyu didn’t even make you cum most of the time. 90% of the time, he would leave you high and dry, not interested in anything but chasing his own pleasure. If you had an orgasm, it was just a lucky accident. You could do so much better than that asshole.
God, he hated Mingyu.
So yes, on occasion, Wonwoo would make it obvious that he hated your loser ass boyfriend. He would scratch Mingyu. Sit on your lap when you’re snuggling on the couch with Mingyu. Jump in bed, get in between you two, and steal the cuddles you’d be giving to Mingyu otherwise. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly bitchy, he would use his powers to unlock the door while you were having sex and interrupt, jumping onto the bed and hopefully killing the mood (for Mingyu specifically). It worked almost every time.
You would occasionally be a little mad, but you gave your otherwise sweet familiar the benefit of the doubt. You knew he would never do anything malicious or try to hurt or sabotage you. Your relationship with Wonwoo was sacred and protected, and you knew he would do anything for you because you would also do anything for him.
Wonwoo wanted the best for you, and that did not include Mingyu. You deserved so much better.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖
“What the fuck is your problem?” you yell as you walk through your door, not caring about the neighbors.
Whoa. Wonwoo’s never seen you yell before. He gets up from where he was laying on the couch, stretches, and sits upright, waiting to see what happens. Whatever’s got you like this must be really serious. Maybe it’s his lucky day and he’ll finally get to see the end of Mingyu.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Mingyu yells back, “You’re being so fucking dramatic right now.”
“Mingyu! You talked to your friends about how you wished you could fuck my aunt-”
You’ve got to be joking. This is gold. It isn’t so bad that you’ll feel the same traumatization as you would from infidelity, but this is more than enough reason to kick this loser to the curb. Wonwoo is very intrigued by these developments, though he does feel bad that you’re going through this at all.
“Why are you acting like this is such a big deal? It happened so long ago and it was a joke. God, you’re always like this-”
“How can you not think this is a big deal, fucker? Are you fucking brain dead?! And do not fucking say ‘you’re always like this’ and minimize this shit!!”
“You’re being a real bitch right now!” Mingyu screams at you, looking aggressive in a way Wonwoo doesn’t really like. He immediately pounces, digging his claws into Mingyu’s thigh. Mingyu hisses at the pain and rips Wonwoo off his leg, throwing him across the room. You gasp in horror and your stomach drops as Wonwoo’s body hits the wall and collapses onto the floor. You immediately run to check on him.
“Oh calm down, it’s just a cat. You’re seriously overreacting right now, Jesus-”
“Nonu, hey, you’re okay right, baby?” you say, fighting tears as you try to make sure your familiar isn’t hurt too badly from your dickhead boyfriend. Your heart breaks seeing his slow breathing, clearly hurt.
“Everyone agrees with me by the way. You’re the problem- you’re the one who’s difficult,” Mingyu says.
“Get. Out.” you say through gritted teeth, still trying to comfort Wonwoo. It’s all your fault that this happened. If you weren’t dating Mingyu, this would have never happened.Wonwoo’s the most important thing in your life, and this stupid fuck might have genuinely injured him.
“Whatever. Call me when you’re done being a drama queen-” Mingyu snides, not making a move towards the door just yet.
That’s it.
You get up from your place on the floor and walk right up to Mingyu. He’s slightly startled because he’s never seen that look in your eyes before.
“Get out. Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t come by my house. We’re done.”
“Wha-”
“Get out!” you yell, your powers making the apartment rattle as if an earthquake were happening. That seems to be enough to scare him, and he runs right out.
You fall to your knees and start sobbing, all of the emotions hitting you at once. Mingyu was a shit boyfriend, so you’re crying more so for the time wasted than for him. And he hurt your familiar, the one thing you should have been protecting.
“I’m so sorry, but good riddance-” you hear. It feels familiar, but you’re positive that this is a voice you’ve never heard before. And it’s coming from a man.
You turn to see a beautiful man dressed in all black laying down where your familiar was laying just a minute ago.
“What the fuck?!” you scream, immediately taking a defensive position.
The man gives you a confused look, not realizing what’s causing you distress until he looked down at himself. “Whoa-”
“Nonu? Is that you?” you question, and you see the man blush at the nickname. He really did think it was so cute. He thought you were cute.
“Uh yes, hi.” he replies, sheepishly.
“How did this happen? I didn’t know you could transform into a human-”
“Well I actually couldn't. This has never happened, but I've heard that for some familiars, once the connection between them and their witch is strong enough, it’s possible to gain shapeshifting abilities. Basically, they can shift into a more human-like form, among other things.” your silence makes him fidget, “So I guess that’s me. You choosing me over Mingyu must have strengthened our connection.”
“Wow-” you reply, still in disbelief, “You look- just wow. I never expected this to happen, and I never would’ve expected that you would look like this.”
“Like what?”
“So hot,” you state, openly gawking at him.
He smirks before groaning in pain.
“Oh my God, are you okay? I really can’t believe he did that-” you say, getting close to him and placing your hand on his shoulder. His face heats up at the sudden contact.
“It’s fine. I’m not indestructible, but I’m magic, remember? I should be fully healed in the next 10 minutes-”
“I guess I should probably start feeding you something other than cat food now,” you giggle, excited for this new version of your familiar.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖
Living with human Wonwoo has taken some getting used to. Oftentimes, he shapeshifts back into a cat before bed (for your comfort more than anything), but his human form helps with more practical things like feeling safe while walking home at night, going to the grocery store, and just your daily life where he’d be with you anyway. Now, people don't think you’re insane for conversing with a cat.
The time you’ve spent together has been amazing, and the connection between you two has never been stronger but you have a new problem.
You might kinda sorta have the hots for your familiar.
That feels so wrong considering he was a cat and technically isn’t a human either, and even more technically, he’s supposed to serve you? But goddamn he looks good. The clothing he wears (if you can call it that since he just magically changes his look?) consists of all black most of the time, and God, it really suits him.
And now that you can take him with you everywhere you go, you do. He is your companion in every sense of the word, and it’s honestly getting really confusing. He held doors open for you, drove you around everywhere you went, even carried you if you were really tired. You tried to argue against being carried, but he reminded you that he was magic and would not have any issue carrying you around.
It might just be the lack of sex and romantic affection talking, but you were getting kind of desperate for him. Any time he was in your vicinity, you swore you could feel something running down your leg. And whenever he hugged you or gave you the lightest of touches? Well, you told him you needed privacy and tried very hard not to moan his name. You needed to get laid.
“I think I’m going to start dating- I need to get laid,” you blurt out during breakfast. Wonwoo sputters and nearly chokes on his drink.
“What made you think of that right now?” he asks, bewildered.
“Well it’s been like six months since Mingyu, and I just feel like I’ve been getting antsy. I need that release, you know?” you reply, shaking your leg as you avoid eye contact.
Wonwoo had noticed that you had gotten a little more tense around him, which was not supposed to be happening. He was supposed to be making everything easier for you. Now you’re talking about potentially getting another boyfriend who will probably treat you as shitty as Mingyu did.
Wonwoo could treat you sooooo much better. No one understands you like he does, and no one deserves to touch you the way he knows you need to be touched. He doesn’t even feel worthy himself, but he lives to serve you. You hate it when he says it, but it’s true and he yearns for it, craves it.
Wonwoo has been the familiar for several other witches in the past, and they all treated him as badly as one would expect. He was nothing more than a slave to use in their magic. They held no respect for him, but you? Oh, you were a dream. Sure you respected him, but you were also so lovable. You were perfect. You made him feel a way he had never felt before. He supposes this is what love must be, but he didn’t know how to express it other than the consistent service and adoration he already showed you every day. This seemed like the perfect opportunity for you to finally see what you do to him.
“Oh- well… yeah, I can help you with that. No problem.” Wonwoo states as if he was talking about something trivial like folding your laundry. It’s now your turn to nearly spit out your drink.
“Um, Nonu…”
“Yes?”
“I wasn’t saying it so that you’d do it. I was just giving you a heads up-” you say, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“Okay… and I told you that I can help you with that.” You look at him and you can tell he’s being dead serious.
“Do you not want me?” he asks, tilting his head. “If it’s how I look, I’m sure I can muster up a different form,” he says standing up, getting ready to change.
“Oh my god, no, that’s not it! Of course! Of course I want you- I mean, LOOK at you! You’re perfect!”
Wonwoo’s cheeks turn pink and he sinks to his knees in front of you. “I… I’ve never felt this way for anyone before, and I’ve wanted you for so long- it feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life for you. You deserve so much. Please let me give it to you. Let me help you.”
“O-okay,” you stutter, unable to wrestle with the concept of your familiar apparently confessing his love for you.
He pulls you out of your seat, and his gaze trails over all of your face, taking in every single feature. He looks back to your eyes before leaning in to kiss you. The feeling that comes over you is like nothing you’ve ever felt. You can feel him all over just from this kiss. No kiss has ever felt so life changing. There was no way you’d ever be able to go back to kissing anyone else.
His tongue moves to part your lips and you gladly grant him entry, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You moan into his mouth causing him to groan into yours. His hands are restless, moving all over your body, so desperate to feel you. His hands finally settle at your hips as he begins moving you over to the bedroom. He gently lays you down and spends time actually just kissing you. Mingyu never kissed you like this. No one had ever just enjoyed kissing you. It was nice, but it didn’t take long until you were desperate for more.
“Aw, does my little witch want more? I never saw you react like this when you were with Mingyu,” he teases, moving his lips down to your jaw and neck, leaving marks behind. He pulls back and admires his artwork, getting turned on knowing you’re marked by him. You belong to him completely.
“Wonwoo, please,” you whine.
“I’m going to take care of you, baby- you’re just so pretty-”
He takes your top off and almost moans at how good you look.
“So, so pretty for me, baby. God, I love your body, and I love that it’s all mine,” he leaves kisses beginning at your shoulders, moving lower, his lips latch around one nipple as he plays with the other before switching. He kisses further down your body until he’s faced with your sleeping shorts. He pulls them off of you only to find that you were wearing nothing underneath. He groans at the revelation and groans again when he spreads your legs and sees that you’re glistening for him.
“Oh, sweetheart, that looks like it hurts. Do you need help?”
“Yes, Nonu, please, I need you-” He growls at the nickname and dives into your heat. Wonwoo has never done this before, but he instinctually knows what to do. It’s not like he’s ever seen it done to you since Mingyu never went down on you, but it just comes naturally to him.
He’s messy and desperate. You look down to see him eating it with his eyes closed, and it makes your eyes roll back. He’s loving it more than you are. He knows exactly what buttons to push and soon you’re reaching your high. He groans and licks you through it, making sure to suck on your clit for good measure.
“Good job, baby. Do you feel better?” he checks in, still zoned in on your core, loving how messy it is.
“Y-yes, W-Wonwoo,” you respond out of breath.
“Do you think you can be a good little witch and give me another one while I try to stretch you out for me?” you only moan in response, giving him the okay to slide one finger into you. He can’t believe how tight you are. “How about another finger now, huh?” he says to himself as he adds another, eventually fucking three of his fingers into you in an effort to prep you for him. Your body’s still so sensitive and the fact that Wonwoo is doing this to you and curling his fingers just right, it isn’t long until you’re making a mess all over his fingers. He fingers you through your high, using his thumb on your clit almost to the point of overstimulation until you push him away. When you make eye contact with him, his eyes are nearly black and he looks hungry.
“How do you want me?” he asks calmly, the complete opposite of how he looks. If you had to judge based on his facial expression, you’d think that he wants to completely ruin you for anyone else. And you would be right- but his focus is on you and your needs.
“Huh?” you reply, still hazy after two orgasms.
“What position do you want me to fuck your sweet pussy in?” he asks again, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“Missionary, please,” you moan, “wanna see you-’
“Anything for you, darling,” he says, giving you a kiss before slowly burying his cock inside you. You didn’t even get the chance to see it, but you don’t need to in order to know how massive it is. You have never been filled like this. Every stroke has you seeing fireworks, and you look to see if this is as amazing for your familiar as it is for you.
Wonwoo is locked in, so focused on the noises and faces you’re making, soaking up every little change in your expression. He listens for changes in your voice to make sure he hits every spot that makes you feel good.
“Faster, baby, please!” you beg.
“Whatever you want, baby,” he begins slamming into you. The only sound in the room is him fucking you, your slick only making the noises growing louder. He’s groaning, and it makes your head spin, causing you to clench around his cock which only makes him groan again. He’s so hot, and you can’t believe this is happening. It's like he’s getting turned on solely because you feel good, and that thought is enough to send you into your third and final orgasm. You’re gasping and moaning and groaning and whining as he fucks you hard and fast through your high. He slows down and pulls out, giving you a kiss before sitting back on his knees and catching his breath.
“Wait, why are you stopping?”
“I just wanted you to feel good, sweetie-” he replies sweetly, caressing your thighs.
“What about you? I want you to feel good, too-” you say, sitting up on your elbows.
“I did feel good, baby, and it makes me happy that I could make you feel good.”
You’re not having any of that. You grab his shoulders and flip him over, moving to straddle him. He is extremely confused.
“Sweetheart, what are you doi-”
You put a hand over his mouth, “You’re gonna let me ride you, and you’re going to fill me up with your load. You got that?”
He gulps and lets you take control as you ride him hard. You feel so weak and he’s hitting crazy angles, but you’re filled with determination to make this man feel as good as he deserves. It luckily doesn’t take very long before his groans are filling the room, and you feel his cum shooting deep into you. You collapse onto him which makes him chuckle. Your little mortal body can’t take as much as his and you were already tired before you got on top. He pulls you close and gives you a kiss.
“That was amazing-”
“No, you were amazing- are you joking?” you praise, “Where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue? It was crazy.” “I don’t know- I just sorta knew. I did whatever felt right,” he shrugs.
“Wait,” you lift your head to look up at him, “Was this your first time?”
“I mean, have you seen me with anyone that isn’t you?” he mumbles as his ears redden. You both sit in the silence of the realization that technically, Wonwoo just lost his virginity.
“No need for you to date anymore, right?”
“No need for me to date anymore,” you giggle.
“Does this mean I can stay in my human form at night now?”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖
EPILOGUE
There’s a knock at the door as you and your familiar are in the kitchen making breakfast. You wander over to open it in nothing but an oversized shirt and some boxers, leaving Wonwoo behind to keep an eye on things on the stove. You open the door only to find Mingyu with a bouquet of flowers.
“Hi,” he breathes upon seeing your face only to then recognize that you’re wearing clothes that look like they belong to a man. “Is someone else in there?” he asks, frustrated just as Wonwoo comes waltzing up behind you.
“I missed you,” Wonwoo breathes into your skin, leaving kisses on your neck and shoulder.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks his brows furrowing.
“I’m Wonwoo, and you are?” Wonwoo smirks.
“W-Wonwoo? What the fuck?”
“I think you should leave,” Wonwoo issues his first and final warning from behind you, eyes turning black and his voice distorting, causing the big man to cower and run away in fear.
“What is it that you said last time?” you ask once you’ve stopped laughing, “Good riddance?”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖
a/n: this was fun (except for the smut but hopefully i'll get better at it lmao) thanks for reading! catch ya on the flipside and happy halloween
KINKTOBER 2025 - WEEK 4 - JEON WONWOO
theme: SUPERNATURAL ENTITIES
this installation: demons
pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader
synopsis: you have exorcised hundreds of demons in your career. but there’s one who you just can’t send back to hell. just one, who you make every exception for.
word count: 3.4k
warnings: swearing, demonic lore including omens and the presence of sulfur, mentions of exorcisms and hell, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, mentions of corruption, some blasphemy (he calls god an asshole)
a/n: the final instalment of kinktober is here! tbh I loved writing this so much because I love unconventional premises like these ones. I hope you all enjoyed reading these as much as i enjoyed writing them xx until next year!
kinktober 2025 masterlist
There’s water leaking from somewhere. The steady drip, drip, drip sound is distracting, but you try to tune it out in favor of listening for other sounds, like shuffling, even the slightest of disturbances in the air that might give you a clue on the demon’s whereabouts. You know it’s a long shot, showing up in this town based purely on weather reports in the area, but patterns are patterns. And you’re a veteran demon hunter. You know how to analyse omens.
This town is a dreary little place in the middle of nowhere. One school, one post office, a motel, a 24 hour diner. Maybe a few thousand people at most. Surrounding the main town area are vast plains of fields, with farmhouses scattered through them. In big cities, disappearances are often written off as unrelated crimes. There’s too much going on to connect the right dots. But places like this, it’s easier to trace demonic presence. After talking to locals, looking into cattle mutilations in the area and suspicious disappearances, you pinpoint the location to a particular farmhouse on the outskirts of the town owned by a quiet but friendly family. That’s where you currently are, sniffing around.
It hadn’t taken a whole lot of questions to learn how “strange” the father was behaving for the last week or so. Everyone notices everything in small towns like this. Then one woman complained to you about the smell of “rotten eggs” on the man, and you knew you had hit the jackpot. No demon can possess a person without leaving the scent of sulfur behind, not even the most seasoned ones.
You know none of your hunting buddies would approve of walking into a demon’s lair instead of luring the demon to you. It’s a rookie mistake. But you also know that you are very much not a typical demon hunter. With the weapon you have, no demon in the world can stand a chance.
Speaking of weapon, you jump when something metal clatters behind you. You curse and turn around to glare at the man now standing in the hallway just past the kitchen, wearing a long, dark trenchcoat, hands buried in the pockets. You didn’t arrive with him, but you knew he would be there. Anywhere you go, he’s right behind, especially on a hunt.
“You can be a bit quieter, you know?” You mumble, aiming your flashlight in front of you, praying that the family upstairs isn’t woken up by the ruckus your unconventional partner just caused. You can almost feel Wonwoo roll his eyes.
“Be grateful I even showed up.”
You snort. “Like you had a choice.”
Wonwoo doesn’t reply. He can’t. It’s the one thing you can hold over his head, this little deal you’ve made. Three months in, the deal is still going strong. You made sure he had no wriggle room to squeeze out of it. He might be a demon, but you’re a demon hunter. You have known his kind for almost your entire life. You know how to reign them in.
This is why you are such a prolific demon hunter. You think outside of the box. You know that on most days, a human is no match for a demon, so you transformed your enemy into your weapon.
Three months ago, you hadn’t known who Wonwoo was at all. He was just another demon you had tracked down after careful work of many weeks. When you finally had him tied to a chair inside a carefully painted pentagram on the floor, holding a little book, ready to start the exorcism ritual, he had howled and screamed, offering you a deal that made you pause your chanting, staring at him, the gears in your head turning. A deal you just couldn’t refuse.
You let him live, he exorcises other demons for you.
It’s simple math, sparing the life of one demon in exchange for being able to send hundreds back to hell with his help. Wonwoo had no problem helping you trap them. It’s not like demons have any sense of loyalty. They serve only themselves. And as the weeks passed, you realised it was a wonderful deal. Even among demons, it was clear that Wonwoo is higher in the hierarchy. Most small town demons are no match for him. One flick of his wrist and they are immobilised, ready for you to chant your exorcism passage and watch as black smoke pours out of their human vessel’s body, singeing and burning, disappearing back to hell. Where one hunt would take you tons of resources and a new scattering of bruises and injuries on your body, you mostly got off scot free now.
Wonwoo lets out a pained sigh as he trudges into the living room behind you, watching you run your hands carefully over the shelves and window sills, looking for traces of familiar green powder. Sulfur. His eyes are half lidded in boredom. After two minutes of silence, he speaks again.
“I can just go drag him out of bed.” He drawls.
You glare at him. “And traumatise his poor wife forever? What if he isn’t possessed? I need to confirm.”
He rolls his eyes before pointing to the window on the far side of the room, overlooking the front yard and sprawling fields beyond. You follow his finger, and sure enough, you spot the sulfur. You huff, wondering for the hundredth time how much easier your job would be if you had supernatural powers. But then again, you would be a corrupted soul full of hatred and evil. So maybe you’re okay with the way you are.
It’s easy business once Wonwoo yanks the guy downstairs. He puts up a bit of a fight, but one of Wonwoo’s hands around the throat has him falling mute. You recite the Latin in hushed tones, and before you know it, the demon is blowing out of the farmer with a quiet gust of wind.
It takes you a lot of insisting and threatening to make Wonwoo put the unconscious man back to bed. His suggestion had been to just leave him on the living room floor, but you balked at him, telling him to put the man upstairs. Wonwoo grumbled and called you a bunch of names, but did what you said. You trudged out of the house, shutting the door behind you.
Wonwoo being nice to you isn’t part of the deal. Wonwoo helping you identify a demon, or keeping him quiet while you work, or putting the human back to bed, none of this is part of the deal. In fact, anything with the smallest of good natured consideration goes entirely against his being. He’s a demon, a powerful, centuries old one. It had taken hell and so many weeks to track and trap him, and even then, he had managed to wiggle out of his exorcism with carefully chosen words and a good deal. But that’s where his loyalty to you ended. An exorcism every one or two weeks. So all these extra embellishments, they came not with the deal, but with the personal bias he held towards you.
Because try as he might, Wonwoo simply can't resist you.
He follows you back to the motel room after the hunt. He has no need for a car, so you just drive off, knowing he will be in your room already when you return. He considers it his post-hunt treat. You know this is the reason he’s soft on you, why he lets you boss him around a little bit during hunts. He knows that when he’s railing you into the mattress afterward, you will sing his praises, soothing his mildly bruised demon ego.
It’s hard to understand what exactly led to this situation. The deal had always been purely business, but a particularly bad hunt a few weeks ago had you bursting with excess adrenaline. He was there, and anyone with eyes could see how attractive he was, and before you knew it, you were kissing him harshly, all tongue and teeth, and he didn’t shy away at all. Why would he? This creature of greed and lust. He loves corrupting you, making you filthy with his touch, and a fucked up part of you always gets so unbelievably turned on at that thought. A human and a demon. It’s so taboo, but it feels so good.
As predicted, Wonwoo is there when you unlock the door and step in. He is strong, manhandling you onto the bed, not even letting you turn on the lights. A faint glow through the window illuminates you both, just enough for you to appreciate his silhouette, all broad shoulders and this leering sense of something forbidden. It’s been a few weeks since the last hunt, which means it has been a few weeks since you last had sex, so you’re pent up. You don’t know if he is, but the way his hands are hungrily undressing you makes you think that he’s a little frustrated too.
“If you weren’t a demon, I would think you missed me.” You say between feverish kisses. The second your mouth separates from his, Wonwoo is nipping and sucking on your neck instead. He’s smooth with how he shucks your pants off before his thumb finds your core. He rubs over you harshly, grinding the rough cloth of your lace panties into your clit. You jump at the feeling.
“Good thing I’m a demon then.” He quips back, leaving a particularly harsh bite over your shoulder that you’re sure will bruise. You like it like this. Rough, with little consideration. Your line of work is unforgiving. It has made you tough. You can’t handle these human men who don’t know how to really make you feel it when they fuck you. Fortunately for you, Wonwoo has no such inhibitions. He doesn’t care for your comfort. All he wants is to get his dick wet, which means he will fold you ten different ways to get what he wants.
He’s the best sex you’ve ever had.
His trench coat is already gone, and he swats at your hands to unbutton his black shirt now. You don’t know why he won’t just snap his clothes away, but it’s better like this. It gives you time to lay back and watch as his shirt peels away, revealing large expanses of pale skin stretched over impressive pecs, finely sculpted shoulders and a stacked row of abs. You bite your lip, clenching around nothing as you admire him. It’s unfair that a demon looks like this, but at least this demon is going to use his body to make you feel good.
His cock is hard and ready when he peels his pants off. When you reach back to unhook your bra, Wonwoo is quick to grab your wrists and pull them up to trap them above your head. He gives you a hard look.
“Don’t take away my reward.”
You watch him lean down to press a kiss against the mound of your breast that’s peeking out from your bra cup. His hair tickles your chin, soft and smelling like coconut. You wonder if demons shower. His lips are replaced by teeth soon, and he bites into the flesh. You close your eyes to fully relish the feeling.
“I thought your reward was me not exorcising you.”
Your bra is quickly discarded. Wonwoo’s eyes flash with something- approval- when you return your arms above your head, where he had previously pinned them. You know he likes it when you’re submissive, when you let him do whatever he wants. Of course he does. What demon doesn’t like power?
“Then I’m getting two rewards.” He responds. He presses his thumb over your clothed core again, this time running it up and down. You sigh at the relief of stimulation. “But this isn’t very one-sided, is it sweetheart? You like being used like this.”
“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You scowl at him, tired of talking.
A flash of a smirk. He clicks his tongue. “Don’t you humans get taught that patience is a virtue?”
He always does this. Edges you. Teases you. You hate it. “Wonwoo-”
He chuckles darkly, leaning down so his lips pucker around your left nipple. You arch into his touch. The suckling sends faint sparks shooting through your body. He pulls off with a groan, giving the same treatment to the other one. You’re getting wetter and wetter by the second.
“Wonwoo.” You whine this time. “Please touch me.”
“Beg for it.”
You hate this part too. And he always does this as well. Makes you stroke his seemingly humongous ego. But you also know that you’re not getting what you want if you don’t do it. He will edge you for hours if he has to. The concept of time is different for an immortal. You, however, want him inside you now. So you do it.
“Please,” you whisper softly, that little sweet tinge in your voice that you know he likes, “Please give me your cock. Want it so bad.”
Wonwoo hums, lips tugging up in a sleazy grin around your nipple. It looks sexier than you would care to admit. He pops off with a harsh suck, lifts your legs to spread them more, his cock nudging at your entrance. Your breath stutters in anticipation. When he sinks in, it feels glorious, carving through you until it feels like you’re being impaled. It makes you delirious, the sensation of finally being filled.
“Fuck.” Wonwoo’s eyes squeeze shut. “I give you my cock so often and you’re still tighter than anything.”
You don’t have any breath left in your lungs to answer him. You can barely get the next two words out.
“Oh, god.”
That makes him laugh. An honest, deep chuckle that shakes his chest. It’s amusing to watch you call out to god while being dicked down by the antithesis of anything holy. He pulls out completely before slamming so harshly back in that it makes the skin of your vulva sting. It makes your body jerk up on the mattress. Wonwoo runs a hand from your neck down the valley of your breasts and your stomach, stopping just above your mound. Unfortunately, his mind is still stuck on your earlier exclamation.
“Can’t believe some asshole in the sky made this.” He grunts. “You’re the worst temptation ever put on this earth.”
He slams into you again, then again, and again, brushing against your cervix in that delicious way that mixes pleasure with just the right amount of pain. He holds your legs up to your chest, watching his cock sink into you over and over. You could think about his cock for days and days but nothing could compare to the feeling of actually having him inside you.
It’s a shame that this glorious dick is attached to such a foul creature.
Wonwoo picks the pace up slowly, going faster and faster until he’s slamming hard into you. The bed creaks, the headboard slams into the wall, but you don’t care. There’s a reason you got this shady, sleazy motel to spend the night in. You cry out his every thrust, hands fisting into the bedsheet.
“Tell me how good it feels.” Wonwoo grunts into your ear. You’re so far gone that you give in to his request without any hesitation.
“So good.” Your vocabulary is very limited in this situation. “You’re ripping me open, Wonu. ‘S so big.”
He chuckles, one hand winding through the hair on the back of your head and tugging harshly. Your scalp tingles, adding to the already large mess of sensations you’re feeling.
“No human can have you.” He moans, lips brushing against your ear. His breath is hot against your skin. His hand wraps around your throat. “No human deserves you.”
“And a demon does?” You gasp, and Wonwoo’s hand squeezes the tiniest bit, trapping air in your chest.
“Of course.” His hips snap harder, as if to make a point. “You’re sin. You’re lust, greed, gluttony. You think any human can handle all that? You insatiable little minx. Only I can give you what you really want.”
He’s not wrong. He fucks you with all the hate and evil in him, marks you up, corrupts you, until you’re a mess of your previous self. You look him in the eye, his forehead against yours, both your bodies jolting with the force of his thrusts.
“Then make me cum.”
He takes it as a challenge, his eyes flickering. This demon who takes orders from no one, listens to your demand within the second. His thumb reaches between your bodies to grind hard against your clit, and it’s enough to push you over the edge that you are already teetering against. Your orgasm is explosive, running over your limbs until they are all locking into place, shooting up from your core and shaking through your torso. You scream and cry through it, and Wonwoo doesn’t slow for a single second. Just one orgasm isn’t even in his vocabulary, you know this. He will keep going until your mind is mush and you’ve lost count.
Curse (or bless) his demon stamina.
He pulls out harshly, leaving you empty and weeping. But you don’t have to register it for long before he is flipping you over and twisting your hips so you’re arching deeply. Your cheek presses against the mattress. You don’t fight against it, moaning in satisfaction when he enters you again.
“Good little slut.” He spits. “Are you gonna call out to your god again? Tell him that his disgusting abomination is making you wet this bed?”
You whine, tears blurring your vision at how unfathomably good it feels to have him inside you. Your spit trickles down to the sheets under you, trailing over your cheek. Your hands claw into the mattress so you can anchor yourself to it enough to take the pounding you are getting. Your eyes roll.
He fucks you for so long that your mind goes completely blank. You lose sense of time. Your hips tremble when you ride him, so he tuts, wrapping his arms around you so he can fuck up into you. He calls you pathetic, saying you can’t even ride him properly, and you love it. You think you’re depraved, that there’s something wrong with you that you like this so much, but when Wonwoo is whispering praises in your ear about how you’re made to fit his cock inside you, that you have the most perfect, tight little cunt, all your doubts leave you.
When he finally cums, it’s with a deep growl that sends you hurtling into your own umpteenth orgasm. Black leaks from his pupils all over his eyes until they’re completely dark, and he looks terrifying up close. He fills you up until you physically can’t contain him anymore, spurts and spurts of it gushing out from the sides of his shaft, lining your stretched hole.
He pulls out but doesn’t let your legs close, holding them open so he can watch your abused cunt leak. You swat at his hands tiredly.
“Let me go, asshole.”
He does, surprisingly, getting off the bed so he can reach for his clothes. You turn to your side, wincing at how badly your legs are trembling. You watch him shuffle around, putting on clothing until he’s fully dressed again, adjusting the lapels of his heavy coat. He didn’t even break a sweat. You find that hot, but you would never say it out loud. He gives you a brief glance.
“Don’t take so long between your hunts.” He comments.
“Why? You need your pussy fill?”
He chuckles. “You’re not one to speak, sweetheart. I’m still leaking out of you.”
“Go to hell.”
“Been there. Didn’t agree with me.”
He winks at you, and just as you’re opening your mouth to retort, he’s gone. No sound, no poof of wind. One second he’s there, the next he isn’t. You sigh, relaxing into the bed.
You need rest if you’re going to start looking at omens again tomorrow.
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this w wonwoo i-
Oh well, I mean...why not.
cw; jeon wonwoo x afab reader - unsafe link, smut (minor dni), this is just filth pwp, rough unprotected sex, impact play (spanking on the ass and thighs), hair pulling, some manhandling, dirty talk, reader and wonwoo both called pet names and degrading names.
"Fuck...just like that. When you push your ass back on me like that. Such a good little whore for me aren't you?"
A loud moan slips from your lips when Wonwoo's hand makes contact with the side of your ass. His cock buried deep inside of you pushing you over the kitchen counter,. Wonwoo's free hand snaking under your shirt to grasp at your breast while he leans over you fucking into you.
Neither of you had made it very far into the house after all the teasing in the car. He had grabbed your face pushing your lips together, looking into your eyes with that lust filled gaze while your hands made quick work of his jeans. Now you were panting his name and grasping at the marble under your fingertips as he pushed you roughly against it.
"Yes baby. God you feel so good, your cock is so good. I'm not the only whore in the room Wonwoo...the way you are fucking me you'd think you were starving for me."
A laugh falls short from your lips when you tease only to feel Wonwoo's hand slap at your outer thigh harshly. "You love talking dirty don't you? Seeing what you get when you do huh?"
When you nod Wonwoo smirks reaching up to grab at your hair pulling you off the counter towards him. Your back arching, his hips slapping against your ass loudly, Wonwoo groans warm against your ear before running his tongue along it. "You'll get filled to the brim, that's what you'll get baby girl. Don't you worry about a thing."
Wonwoo watches you nod, his lips moving to your jaw, a grin against your skin before he pushes you back down to the counter causing you to lose your breath. His thrusts harder and faster when his hand meets your ass once again with a loud slap. "Now moan my name again like a good slut."
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All Good Girls Go To Hell
pairing; jeon wonwoo x f reader
genre; smut, angst, toxic, dark romance
content warnings; lucifer!wonwoo, morally gray (possibly black)!wonwoo, hell, souls sold/taken, mentions/descriptions of torture (including skinning), kidnapping, being sold/traded
smut warnings; fingering, thigh riding, oral (f recieving), begging, pet names
w/c; 3.5k (halloween special drabble)
summary; My Lucifer is lonely... Waking up somewhere you don't recognize, you find yourself with a man who claims he owns you now.
song inspo; all good girls go to hell - billie elish
a/n; thank you sweet @sluttyminghao for betaing! I love you. I hope you guys have had a wonderful Halloween! I hope you enjoy a very morally gray Wonwoo. For more drabbles and more subscribe to my Patreon.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
The bed feels different—softer?
Sighing under your breath, you stretch on the mattress until a whine slips from between your lips. Had your bed always been this comfortable?
No. It must be how well you slept. That happens sometimes. You wake up after a particularly good night’s rest and everything feels better. The sheets start to feel like satin under your bare skin. The mattress hugs you like a cloud, urging you to reach for your fiancé and curl yourself into his side. Only when you slide your hand along the sheets but that's all you feel. Ben got up before you and didn’t even say goodbye.
Typical.
Rolling towards the middle of the bed, you smile to yourself, feeling the sheets caress your lower back. God, it feels nice just to lie here. It feels nice to not rush yourself out of bed and back into another meaningless workday. There’s no telling how long you have before your alarm will go off… would it be so bad to just drift back off for a while?
Another sigh leaves your lips and your brows furrow. How long had you drifted back off for? Your mouth feels like cotton and your stomach is beginning to complain for food. Reaching once more across the bed in search of Ben, your lips turn down.
Things haven’t been perfect for you and your fiancé, but you do your best to make him happy. With that in mind, you finally pry your eyes open and whisper his name, only for the word to die on your lips as you notice where you are—where are you?
The sheets undercovering your body aren’t your own. This bed isn’t yours. This bedroom isn’t yours. Panic begins to rush through you as you sit up in the bed and tug the sheet up to your chest, realizing you were feeling the sheets on your skin because you’re naked. Where are your clothes?
“Ben?” Your voice echoes around the room and a feeling of dread settles in your chest. Looking around the room and towards the nightstand, your heart thumps loudly in your chest when you realize not only are you somewhere else but your phone isn’t next to you. In the place of your phone, you find a single red rose as if it were left for you to discover.
Tears prick at your eyes even as you force yourself to tug the sheet from the bed and wrap it around you in an attempt to cover yourself. How could something like this happen? You rack your brain trying to remember the night before.
Ben had to work late. You were upset with him, but you still made him dinner, promising to heat it up for him once he came home. You remember opening a bottle of wine. Was that the problem? You rarely drink but one glass of wine wouldn’t knock you out so heavily someone could come in and steal you straight from your bed. You couldn’t have been so drunk you’d sleep through someone taking you from your house, stripping you, and putting you in this bed.
The tears sit on the rim of your eyes until you blink, causing them to spill over and run down your cheeks. You are trying to force yourself to think—to figure out what to do once you make it to the large black door across the room from you—when a knock sends a shiver down your spine.
“Y/N? Are you awake?”
Who is that? The voice is smooth and deep. It’s unfamiliar and yet he knows your name. Shaking your head, you scold yourself for caring if he knows your name. Of course your kidnapper would know your name. Is that what happened? You were kidnapped?
Or is this something else? Have you finally snapped? Was the pressure of everything too much and now this is a delusion? Is the person behind that door a doctor? That could happen. Your fragile mind finally broke and this is a bougie hospital that your parents placed you in.
Then again—why would they? It has been years since you spoke to your parents. You have separated yourself from their lives and sworn to become a better person. You had found a new home and a church where you felt comfortable. That was where you met Ben. You had fallen in love so quickly that you made yourself overlook all of your fiancé's questionable habits. You were—are going to get married in a year in the church that at first offered you safety and stability.
“I know you’re awake. I’m going to open the door.”
Taking a few steps back towards the bed, you feel your heart in your throat at the idea of whoever is on the other side of that door opening it. You only have a sheet to cover your body and you still have no idea who they are or where you are, but you only get a few seconds of panic before the door does open and a tall man steps through it.
His eyes find you immediately and your breath gets caught in your throat. You had hoped for half a second that you’d know who it was. Maybe it was Ben forcing his voice lower, but that was a stupid wish because this man sounds nothing like Ben. Like his voice, his eyes are deep—so brown they almost seem black. You swallow hard and take another step back as he takes one towards you, letting the door shut behind him.
“I know you’re confused.”
That is an understatement.
Whining under your breath, you stop walking backward when your butt knocks into the nightstand, causing the lamp to fall over behind you. “Wh—where am I?” Even your voice sounds different. It sounds strained and laced with fear. You swallow hard, trying to make more saliva to coat your overly dry tongue in hopes of sounding less small. “Who are you?”
The man smiles at you but it isn’t a normal polite smile. His lips form more of a smirk than a smile as he pushes his hand into the pocket of his black dress pants as he smooths his black button-down over his stomach. “You can call me Wonwoo.”
That was one answer and yet not the one you desired more. Your eyes follow Wonwoo as he turns his eyes from you to glance around the room, his feet moving a few steps towards you until he sighs patiently. “As I said, you must be confused.”
“Very. Tell me where I am. Why—did—did you kidnap me?”
Smooth, Y/N. Like the kidnapper would just tell you if he did it. Cursing yourself under your breath, you hold the sheet tighter around your chest as you meet Wonwoo’s eyes once again. His laugh triggers a chill up your spine that has your skin erupting with chill bumps. He shakes his head and lifts the hand from his stomach to his head as he scratches his eyebrow, seeming to think carefully on his next words.
“No, Darling. I simply collected what was mine.”
Your pulse begins to beat loudly in your ears as your blood runs cold. Heat licks behind your eyes as you force yourself not to close them even as the world seems to spin in front of you. “Wh—what? I wanna go home…” You aren’t sure the words are spoken aloud. Finally closing your eyes, you whine at the sick feeling building in your stomach and rising up your throat as fear rips through your soul.
Watching you start to sway, Wonwoo tilts his head and takes another step towards you. Humans are weak. There is no denying that. It doesn’t take much to see you are on the verge of passing out. There is sweat gathering on your temples and your skin has begun to take on an unnatural color when finally your legs give out. A rush of emotions pushes through Wonwoo as he closes the space between you and him just in time to sweep you from your unsteady legs and into his arms.
You are so fragile. A mixture of intrigue and disgust worms its way through Wonwoo’s body before he turns to place you back on the bed, readjusting the black satin sheet around you so you are covered. The very act seems foreign to him. He has never attempted to protect anyone's modesty before and yet as he looks down on you now as your breathing begins to settle, Wonwoo finds himself not only keeping you covered but also pushing your hair back from your face.
It’s just so he can look at you. At least that’s what he tells himself as his fingers stroke along your cheekbone down to your parted lips. The color has started to return to you; your lips, while cracked from dehydration, are the right color again.
Settling onto the bed next to you, Wonwoo studies you silently. His eyes moving along every bit of you that is exposed to him. You are beautiful—so stunning that it makes him uncomfortable. Humans shouldn’t look like you. When God created all things—humans included—he attempted and failed at creating perfection with Adam and Eve. Their flaws… the free will that they were permitted left them scarred inside and out—but not you. If Wonwoo didn’t know better, if he couldn’t literally see your soul clinging to your body, he would think you were an angel like him.
Fingers trail along your shoulder, causing you to sigh happily at the contact. It was a dream. Ben is home and you have been home this entire time. Turning towards the touch, your lips turn up in a small smile at the brush of soft lips against your neck.
“Mmm, I had such a weird dream.” Your smile pulls at your lips as the kisses walk the length of your neck to your jaw. The breath against your skin causes chill bumps to spread in anticipation.
“Tell me about it…” The voice isn’t what you expected yet it keeps you calm as you lift your hand, running your fingers through soft hair.
“I was taken.” Gasping into your words, you arch your back when teeth nip at your sensitive skin. “Mmm, taken to hell. I was there for weeks. I lost track of time.”
A soft hum of understanding from the lips now brushing over the shell of your lips has you gripping at the hair under your fingers. You could open your eyes but something tells you to wait. This feels too good. “Yeah… There was a man. He watches me but…” Your voice lowers as the memories come back to you and you know who is kissing you. You should hate it. He took you from your home. He took you from your fiancé. He took you from Ben but he hasn’t told you why beyond saying he took what was his.
“Wonwoo…” You whisper on a soft gasp, feeling his lips pull up in a smirk.
“Yes, little angel. Keep telling me about this dream. Was it a bad dream?”
Tears press behind your eyes as you keep them shut tightly, your hand starting to loosen in Wonwoo’s hair only for his hand to rest over yours, tightening your fingers once again. Using your hand, he tugs on his hair hard enough to make you wince before you arch against him, feeling his thigh press between your legs.
“It—” You struggle to find your words, feeling not only confused but also aroused when you roll your hips over the hard thigh resting against your bare cunt. “Mm, I don’t know. I’m—please? I want to go home.”
Your words say one thing but your body another as Wonwoo traces your jaw up to your ear with his tongue. He had done so well for weeks. He had barely touched you but he had waited long enough. “Home? Darling, you are home.” Hearing you whine his name, tears rolling down to his lips now at the corner of yours, Wonwoo rocks his thigh against you and hums in appreciation. “Do you want me to tell you the truth? You want me to break your little heart?”
When you don’t answer with more than new tears for him to lick from your skin, Wonwoo growls low under his breath. You are stubborn and infuriating in ways he has never dealt with. Others pray to him. Some pray with hate in their hearts, others with devotion—yet you give him your sorrow. You pray for what you’ve lost. What you think was taken from you.
“I’ll break your heart. I’ll watch it shatter and then, sweet little one… I will bind it to me.” Leaning back to look down at you, Wonwoo narrows his eyes as you keep your eyes shut tightly. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Y/N. Open your eyes and face the truth you so desperately want…”
Forcing your eyes open, you blink through your tears to meet Wonwoo’s eyes. You know you should try to push him away. His words already make you feel like you want to die—but aren’t you dead already? You are in hell. That much you know to be true. You’ve been here for so long now that you can’t keep lying to yourself about that much. As for Wonwoo… you’ve figured him out too. The name Wonwoo is there to make you feel better about the situation, if that were even possible; the man, the being looming over you now, he’s not human. He’s something you’re terrified to even name in your own head because you know who he is.
Watching you closely, Wonwoo hums under his breath, once again sliding his hand along your head so carefully that when you flinch, it causes his brows to furrow in pain. He deserves this reaction from you, but he also deserves the way your hips move over his thigh chasing pleasure as if you are trying to distract yourself from what truth he is going to ruin your life with. Moving his eyes along your body, Wonwoo tilts his head and slides one of his hands over the sheet loosely draped over your waist, watching the silk slide from your skin as he speaks low and calm. “He sold you, Y/N. He had a choice and this is what he chose. The man you pretend to yearn for. Your precious fiancé. He wanted more than he could afford, yet instead of offering his own body and soul as payment, he gave me you.”
Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo gauges your reaction before continuing as realization settles in your eyes. “He never loved you. He loved what you gave him. A doting woman who would look past all his sins as you prayed for them for him. Do you think my father heard your prayers, darling?” Shaking his head, Wonwoo sighs resolutely as he traces your belly button, feeling you suck in your stomach under his touch. “No, sweet girl. He doesn’t listen, but I do. So when Ben asked for too much, I came and I took.”
The painful truth sends an ache through your body before resting over your heart. Closing your eyes as if you can make it go away, you stop moving completely and lift your hands to your face. You hope that Wonwoo will leave. You hope that he will let you suffer here in silence, but that doesn’t happen.
Lips press to the back of your hands before he gently pulls them away and wipes your tears from your cheeks as he whispers close to your cheek. “I should have killed him instead, but humans, especially selfish ones like your fiancé, only learn through true pain. He will live out the rest of his years with the price in the forefront of his mind. He will think of you when he wakes up. He will dream of you. He will never find peace and when he dies, little angel, he will suffer at my hands further.” Wonwoo’s words should hurt you more, but instead you find yourself listening to each one as the pain in your heart shifts into something else.
“I will tear his miserable skin from his body every single day for eternity. He will beg me to stop and to let him rest but there is no rest for the wicked, not even in hell. Every single moment he will feel the flames lick at his exposed muscles and tendons, only for the price he paid to remain in the forefront of his mind.” Smirking at his own words, Wonwoo laughs darkly as your eyes meet his once again and this time he sees understanding in them. “Yes, darling, he will think of you even in death. I will fuck you over his body, never letting him touch you. I’ll let him hear you scream my name in pleasure as pain overwhelms him.”
The idea of Wonwoo’s plans for Ben should frighten you and perhaps deep down they do, but you feel a flutter in your chest—excitement. “Promise me.”
Your voice is so quiet that Wonwoo furrows his brows in confusion before you repeat the same words louder this time. The demand goes straight to his cock before he rocks his hips towards you, feeling your wet pussy against his pants as you start to soak through the fabric. “I promise. I’ll give you anything you ask for.” The moment the words are out of his mouth, Wonwoo laughs as you start to speak, only for him to cut you off. “Except give you up and let you leave. You are mine, Y/N. I don’t abandon things that belong to me, especially something like you.”
The finality in Wonwoo’s tone causes your heart and mind to race. Thoughts flood your mind along with pleasure when he rolls his hips towards yours once again. This is the first time he’s touched you like this in the many weeks since he took you. He watched you every single day. He’d sit by your bed and attempt to soothe you, but he never took from you—until now. But is that what he is doing?
Pleasure jolts through you as his fingers slide to your hips, pulling your hips down over his thigh. This isn't taking; this is giving. More than you could ever say for Ben—for the man who sold you for his benefit. Lifting your hips into Wonwoo’s hands, you whine his name and relish in the feeling of your clit grazing the fabric covering his muscular thigh. You realize that you want this, perhaps more than you could have ever anticipated, but the look in Wonwoo’s eyes tells you his patience had been running thin. With one more content sigh slipping from your lips, he begins to take.
Wonwoo’s kiss burns with his intensity. His hands dig into your hips as he lifts you from his thigh and fingers trail between your legs. With a growling breath, Wonwoo breaks the kiss to meet your eyes as his fingers slide between your wet lips and over your already throbbing clit. “You are mine. This—” He emphasizes his words with a pinch to your clit before his fingers slide to your waiting entrance, where he eases two fingers into you. “Is mine.”
Your hands flail for a moment as pain mixes with your pleasure as Wonwoo’s fingers begin to stretch you. One of your hands finds Wonwoo’s wrist as the other grips the bedding under you in an attempt to ground yourself. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust; instead, Wonwoo curls his fingers inside of you and traces a circle over your clit, enjoying the feeling of your pussy tightening.
Soft moans slip from between your lips only to be swallowed by Wonwoo as his tongue slides along yours. Even as you try to lift your hips, attempting to chase your pleasure, he easily pushes you back down on the bed, fucking you hard and fast on his fingers. You want more. You need more, but all of that fades to the background as your walls begin to clench down on his fingers and your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave.
A dark chuckle tickles your skin as Wonwoo’s lips work from your lips to your breasts. His eyes flick up to yours and for a brief moment they are completely black. Any trace of white around his dark irises seems to have been swallowed until he blinks and the color returns.
“Wonwoo—”
“Shh, little angel. I’m not done with you. You owe me so, so, so much more.”
You start to speak, to form some retort to his claiming words, but then his lips find your clit even as his eyes stay fixed on you. Teeth tip at your soft skin and the throbbing bundle of nerves before he laughs again, leaning back enough to lick your cum from his lips and speak. “Beg me like a good girl to fuck him out of your mind. Your soul is mine, Y/N; now let me have the rest of you…”
Sobbing in pleasure, you buck your hips towards Wonwoo’s waiting mouth, feeling his smile against your skin as you do just that. Numerous pleas leave your lips as you feel your mind, body, and soul latch on to the man, the devil between your legs binding you to him forever.
© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.
Watching ♡ J.WW (M)
After a night of confessions, your heart breaks but you still find yourself thinking about him on a lonely night, just to catch him watching you touch yourself to the though of him. ; or, wonwoo comes home to see you moaning his name while you play with ur toys ifywim ♥︎
Pairing | Roommate!Wonwoo ♡ Reader
Genre | Comedy, Romance, Roommates to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Angst (reader misunderstood wonwoo + wonwoo misinterpreted reader’s feelings.), Smut — big dick!woo, peeping woo, mutual masturbation (kinda), oral, fingering, riding, lots of kissing, dom-ish!both, dirty talk!!!, unprotected sex (mentions of bc), petnames (sweet, pretty, honey, love, beautiful, baby).
Word Count | 5.6k
Reading time | 28 mins
Notes: usage of curse words, afab fem reader, mingyu is annoying (in a cute way) and both wonu’s and reader’s best friend!
Was playing truth or dare (or drink) a good idea? No, but you were far from sober. Your roommate’s friends (aka, your friends) had crashed over with snacks, wine, and beer, your friends, who were already hanging with you, decided to play along and join their little “party”.
You sat between Mingyu and your roommate and long-time friend, Wonwoo. On the table, before you laid an empty wine bottle, used to spin and get a little insight on whoever it landed on. As Soonyoung spun the bottle, you prayed it didn’t land on you, the last thing you wanted was a bunch of people knowing about your sexual encounters or weird dating history—especially when the bunch of people was your crazy friends.
Of course, fate was not on your side, as the shiny gold bottle cap stopped right in front of you.
“Oh yeah!” Soonyoung said and smiled, “You’ve been awfully quiet, ____, we finally got you.” He said smugly.
“Just get it over with, what do y’all want to know?” You sighed and rolled your eyes as the people in front of you smirked.
“Is there someone in this room that you’d like to fuck?” Hoshi stared at you with a mischievous smile, his eyes quickly glancing at the man next to you, who waited patiently for your response.
Your lips pursed as you thought about answering or drinking. Your fingers reached for the soju bottle in the middle before everyone started whining and complaining.
“Oh come on! Don’t be a party pooper!” Vernon threw a cushion at you—hitting Wonwoo instead of you. “Oh shoot, sorry…” the older man only shook his head and smiled softly and your eyes couldn’t help but linger on his pretty lips.
“Hey, are we playing a drinking game, or are y’all jumping me?” You deadpanned and Mingyu pushed you softly as if to tell you to just answer.
Groaning, you put the soju bottle back on the floor and ran a hand through your hair before answering.
“Yes.” You replied nonchalantly and the room erupted in hollers and screams of predictions of who it might be.
“Ooh, Who?” Hoshi asked, squinting his eyes at you, that annoying smirk still plastered on his face.
“One question per round. Sorry, buddy!” You taunted.
“Boo! Party pooper!” Now it was Seungkwan’s turn to throw a cushion in your direction, hitting your face softly.
“I bet it’s me,” Mingyu said playfully, scoffing proudly, making everyone laugh—except Wonwoo, who only smiled and looked down at his crossed legs.
“In your dreams, Kim.”
“It’s okay, your secret is safe with me.” He winked and you grabbed the cushion Vernon had thrown to hit Mingyu’s back, making him laugh and yelp at the fact that you hit hard. “Damn, is this your foreplay? Are you a dom, ____?”
The smirk on his face and the wiggle of his eyebrows caused your eyes to roll and your hand to reach over his shoulders and around to shut his mouth.
“Shut the fuck up, Mingyu.” You scowled at him but still leaned to rest your head on his shoulder.
“I told y’all she wants me.” You merely rolled your eyes for the millionth time and laughed softly, hands gripping his arm as you snuggled closer to him. Why must such an annoying person be so warm and cuddly?
The alcohol started hitting your system as you felt your eyes drooping, helping you miss how Wonwoo’s smile disappeared and a tint of jealousy painted his face as he saw you snuggle Mingyu. But how could he blame you? Mingyu was an absolute sweetheart and he couldn’t deny he was handsome. Setting his own feelings aside, he decided to tell himself how cute you would look together.
“Okay, next round!” Joy chimed in after the laughter had died down a bit. Her fingers reached to spin the bottle, and the glass object swirled 3 times before landing on the owner of the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen. “Wonwoo!”
“Hmm…” the older man hummed and smiled, his cheeks rosy from the alcohol he had consumed all night.
“A little birdie told me you rejected her 'cause you’re in love with someone, is that true?” Your heart couldn’t help but falter at the sound of Joy’s statement.
“I didn’t say that.” Wonwoo recalls the conversation he had with Aera earlier in the week. She had confessed to him and expected him to return her feelings even though they had never interacted formally before. She had stormed off when he told her he was seeing someone, which was a lie. He just didn’t know how to react.
“That was not the question, Wonu.” Jeonghan interfered, “are you in love with someone, yes or no?”
“Ugh, fine. Yes, I am.” He replied and while everyone went crazy and teased him, your heart broke into a billion pieces.
But what could you expect? He was your friend and knowing his character, he probably has some dumb rule about not dating friends. Just like you, he missed the way your face fell before you snuggled closer to Mingyu.
All he saw was Mingyu’s arm around you, bringing your sleepy body closer to his.
Wonwoo ended up going to sleep early, no one thought anything of it since the man was usually sleepy all the time. So he just said good night and left with your hurting heart in his hands without even knowing.
The next couple of days were spent normally, or at least you tried to. You tried your best to see Wonwoo without feeling your heart clench, it worked for the most part, but it was at night when you couldn’t help but think about his words.
Eventually, you decided to just stop thinking about it all at once, Mingyu telling you that you were probably misunderstanding Wonwoo and that maybe the girl he was talking about was you.
“Oh please, Mingyu. As if…” you hit his chest and he merely laughed.
“You are both stupid, I swear you are both crazy about each other and can’t see it. But I can!” He said, plopping on your bed.
“Not even and get off my bed. You just came from playing basketball with Wonwoo and you are sweaty.”
A couple of nights after your conversation with Mingyu, you laid in bed, trying to sleep when you heard a soft knock on your door.
“Come in!” You called out, not moving from your position when you saw the door open slightly and that fluffy head you love so much peeked through.
“Oh my God, did I wake you up?” He asked quietly.
“Oh no, don’t worry. I can’t sleep.” You chuckled and he followed.
“I am going to Mingyu’s, he said he’s cooking dinner. Do you wanna go?” He asked, knowing how much you loved Mingyu’s cooking, but you couldn’t bare be alone with Wonwoo for the 20-minute drive. He looked way too hot while driving and you were trying to stop thinking about him. “He said we could stay over.”
“Hmm, I’m okay… I’m a bit tired, but could you bring me some food when you come back tomorrow?”
“Of course, I’ll make sure he saves you some food.” He smiled and your heart did a flip. “Good night, _____.”
“Good night, Wonwon.”
And with that, he left. Your mind now only focusing on his pretty smile and soft voice. Also, the way his long fingers gripped at your door, keeping him in place behind it.
Why must he be so perfect?
After 30 minutes, you managed to fall asleep. But what came upon your slumber ruined your plans of sleeping in through the weekend.
“Such a pretty pussy.” The man rasped as he pumped his length in and out of you, mesmerized by the creamy ring building up on his cock after every thrust. “And it’s all mine. Look how well you take my cock, love.”
“Wonwoo, please fuck me harder.” You whined.
“Such a dirty girl, aren’t you, baby?” His hands gripped your breasts and his thumbs teased your erect nipples. “Beg for it, love.”
You woke up in a sweat, shirt clinging to your chest due to the sweat and panties clinging to your pussy due to the wetness.
“Fuck me.” You groaned, trying to go back to sleep and ignoring the aching feeling in your center.
Tossing and turning on your mattress didn’t help your case, so you turned to your favorite company on your lonely nights—the pretty glass heart dildo in your underwear drawer.
Had you masturbated at the thought of Wonwoo before? You wish you could save face and say no, but your perverted mind had wandered one too many times to the thought of his tongue, fingers, and cock inside you—to the point where you got the biggest size you could find to maximize your pleasure as you dreamed about your hot, nerdy roommate.
“Did you bring your laptop? Remember mine is broken.” Mingyu asked the older man as he set the table in his living room to watch a movie.
“Oh fuck, I knew I was forgetting something.” Wonwoo cursed.
“One thing. I asked you to bring one thing!” Mingyu nagged and Wonwoo whined.
“I’ll go bring it, I’ll be back in a bit.” He said checking his phone to see how long traffic was roundtrip.
“Boo, Wonwoo!” Jun teased and Wonwoo threw a cushion at him.
“Wait, before you leave. Take _____ this, if we wait till tomorrow there will be no food left.” Mingyu said, handing Wonwoo a bag with a couple of tupperware full of the food he had cooked and a little note.
Wonwoo took the bag in his hands and nodded before making his way to his car. There, he let curiosity get the best of him and read the note.
“I wish you were here to eat this cause I love seeing your reactions. I know you love my brownies so I made a special batch for you. Hope you are feeling better! :D -Love, Mingyu ♥︎”
Wonwoo rolled his eyes in annoyance and put it back in the bag before taking off.
Unlocking the door to the apartment, he cursed himself for forgetting his laptop, and placed the food Mingyu sent on the breakfast bar. Wonwoo walked slowly towards his room, just in case you were already sleeping. He didn’t want to interrupt your peaceful slumber.
However, what he heard as he stepped closer to the bedrooms made him step back.
“Oh, fuck!” It was a moan—yours to be exact. His heart started racing, not only at the pretty sounds you made but at the fact that there was a chance you had someone pleasuring you at that moment—someone that wasn’t him.
“Mmm, just like that…” you whined and whimpered. That’s when he noticed your door was slightly opened, lights were off but he could tell your blinds were slightly open cause he could see the lines of moonlight on the floor.
Of course, you would leave it open, he wasn’t supposed to be here.
An ongoing debate in his mind flooded his brain as he thought of peeking through. He didn’t want to be a creep, but the best (or worse) of him got him and he carefully peeked from an angle that he knew you wouldn’t see him.
There he saw you. Laying back on your mattress, completely nude and your legs spread wide apart while your hand pumped a glass toy into your pretty pussy. His eyes couldn’t rip themselves from gawking at you like a pervert. The way your hand pushed the toy in and out at a quick pace and your other played with your pretty nipples had him hypnotized. The moonlight shone on your body and he could swear it was glistening with some sort of magical dust.
He was totally done for. He would never recover from this, and just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, you moaned again.
“Ah, Wonu~” his name rolled off your tongue so naturally and just then he noticed that he had been rubbing himself over his pants. “Just like that, baby…”
Wonwoo swore he would pass out at any second. Not only were you hot as fuck and wet as fuck—the thought of him was making you this wet and horny. He tried, he really did try to stop staring and leaving but he seemed to be stuck to the ground and completely hypnotized by you. Your moans had sent him into a trance like a siren song.
“Jeon Wonwoo!!! What the fuck?!” Your loud voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He didn’t know what to do, he had been caught doing the least gentleman-y thing ever.
How could he do that? What took over him?
“I-I can explain…” your eyes then dropped to his crotch, cheeks blushing at the sight of his hand still subconsciously soothing his growing erection.
“Do you want me to help you with that?” You asked shamelessly, gaining a boost of confidence at the sight of him standing at your doorway like a pathetic little pervert. “Then you could help me with this…”
Wonwoo’s eyes widened behind his glasses as your folded legs (which you moved to cover yourself upon discovering him watching) opened up and revealed your wet core—glass toy still inside. He hadn’t noticed his legs moved, not when you pumped the toy a few times more, moaning his name, and not when you crawled to him.
It wasn’t until your hands ran up his thighs that he realized he was inside your room and at the foot of your bed.
His mouth fell open in awe at the sight of you kneeling in front of him, soft hand reaching to move his that was on his crotch and soothe his growing bulge. A sweet, deep sound left his lips as he gasped when your teeth suddenly bit him over his pants softly.
“May I?” You asked as your fingers pinched the zipper of his pants. Wonwoo nodded lazily, as he rid of his t-shirt, tossing it somewhere around the floor of your room.
You gawked at him, laying back on your hands while he kicked off his pants and shoes. Your mouth watered at the sight of his toned body and strong arms—and his mouth watered at the sight of your breasts in full display.
“Do you like what you see?” He smirked, placing his index finger under your chin, tilting it to make eye contact with you.
“I love what I see.” He said, and you kneeled back up, your lips pressed on his chest, leaving soft kisses all over and biting random parts of his skin.
“Then have a taste.” In less than a second, his lips were on yours, kissing you like he had been wanting to for the longest time.
“Mmm…” a deep groan left his throat at the sweet taste of your tongue.
The minty taste of your mouth and the sweet floral smell of your skin were intoxicating. All he wanted was to stay like this forever and never let you go. Your skin was silky soft under his touch, his hands perfectly molded to the curves of your waist and lower back as he wandered around the heavenly crevices of your body.
You, on the other hand, dreaded the end of the night. Your hands gripped his arms, refusing to let him go as his perfect lips deliciously devoured you. The thought of him snapping out of the euphoria of the moment and remembering the person he’s in love with had your insides churning. But the fact that he was hungry for you in that exact instance, made you incredibly hot.
“I want you inside me so bad.” You breathed out against his lips.
“Not before I have a taste, baby.” Wonwoo rasped out and your heart dropped to your stomach at the sound of his voice calling you ‘baby’. “Lay back for me, pretty.”
Immediately doing as he said, your back fell against the plush bed sheets, while his hands gripped the back of your thighs to spread your legs apart and showcase your wet center.
“Is this all for me, baby? Do you always think of me while touching yourself?” He smirked at you, making you blush instantly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Wonwoo’s lips pressed on the skin of your inner calf after he had kneeled down to be at eye-level with you. They danced along the line of your leg until they reached the main entrée—your pretty glistening pussy. He couldn’t help but salivate at the sight of the creamy substance that covered you.
She must’ve been fucking herself with that glass dildo for a while, he thought.
The thought of you touching yourself and pretending your toy was his cock instead, was driving him nuts. But he couldn’t help but snicker at the size of the toy, if that’s what you thought his looked like, you were in for a treat tonight.
“Look at such a pretty pussy, hmm…” he cooed and pressed a quick kiss to your clit making you yelp in pleasure.
It wasn’t much, but you had been fantasizing about this moment for so long that any touch of his felt absolutely magical.
“I thought you wanted a taste.” You teased and he smirked before poking his tongue out and laying it flat on your core, licking a stripe up. “Ah, Wonu~”
“So fucking sweet, beautiful. Everything about you is so sweet.” You closed your eyes, his words resonating in your ears.
While it should’ve excited you, your mind kept drifting away to that night when he admitted he was in love with someone. Was he pretending you were that person? Was he imagining himself doing this to someone else?
Before you could let your mind wander through the thoughts of Wonwoo merely using you to satisfy his needs while he pursues someone else, his mouth sucked your sensitive bud.
“Oh!” You moaned, hands gripping the sheets and his hair. “You’re so good at that.”
His mouth was loud against your center, sloppy wet sounds mixed with his deep groans of satisfaction at your taste and pretty sounds. You were a moaning mess under him, squirming as he kitty-licked your clit, but his forearm over your torso kept you in place. Somewhere in the past five minutes, his hand had reached out to play with your tits, tugging and pinching your nipples.
“Ugh, this is the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tried, baby.” He kissed it one more time before standing up, his hands still keeping your legs spread. “I want to be inside you, so bad.”
“What are you waiting for, then?” The man smirked and scoffed softly at you, trailing his index and middle fingers down your slit and teasing your entrance. “I just cleaned you dry and you’re already wet again?”
Wonwoo groaned and bit his bottom lip, prior to entering his fingers in your hole, eliciting a whine from your own lips. His heart was beating out of his chest after he looked down at you.
“Your fingers fill me up so much better than mine…” another moan left your lips when he started scissoring his fingers, stretching you out in preparation for his cock.
“Yeah? Are your pretty small fingers not enough for you?” You shook your head and he smiled. “Shit. You’re greedy, aren’t you? Sucking my fingers in like that.” He cursed when your walls clenched around his fingers.
“I want to suck you off.” You simply said and he felt like fainting.
Wonwoo removed his fingers from you and sucked your arousal off them before helping you sit back up.
“Go ahead, baby.” He smirked at your cute face looking up at him. What he didn’t know, is that you were about to switch the whole thing around.
“Look how hard you are from spying on me.” He couldn’t help but blush deeply at your words, remembering how minutes ago he was shamelessly touching himself while sneakily watching you.
“Who would’ve thought sweet Wonwoo would be such a pervert.” He felt himself slowly melting, and that’s when your lips made contact with his clothed length. “How are you so perfect?”
“You’re killing me, pretty.” His head fell back as a deep moan left his mouth when your warm tongue pressed on his length.
“Am I?” You asked while your fingers hooked on the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. “Fuck…”
“That’s the plan, baby.” He chuckled softly and reached to tuck your hair behind your ears before caressing your hair softly and you could swear your heart would explode.
Wonwoo’s already hard dick got even worse when he took a glance at your face. The way your eyes looked at him gave him butterflies and your hands around his length slowly gliding didn’t help at all.
“Mmm, just like that, sweetheart.” He groaned as soon as your tongue lapped his tip. You hummed in contentment, having dreamed of his cock in your mouth for so long.
A string of muttered curses left his lips when your mouth engulfed what it could take of his cock, which wasn’t as much as you wanted. His head hit the back of your throat and your lips barely covered half of it, the sound of his deep moans was making you wet, a drip of arousal gliding down your thigh.
Your mouth kept sucking and your hand stroking him was soon glistening with saliva, while your other hand reached down to collect your juices before reaching up to place them on Wonwoo’s tongue when he moaned again.
His tongue was warm on your fingers as he sucked them dry, licking even after he had cleaned your arousal off them.
“Baby,” he moaned, mind clearly foggy at that point. “I wanna cum in you.” You moaned around him at his statement, making him hiss.
Your head bobbed and once more, trying your best to go further down before removing him completely. Wonwoo bit his lip and wiped the tears that had fallen down your cheeks and trailed to wipe your lips. You took the chance and sucked his thumb in, yet another groan leaving his lips.
Wonwoo finished kicking his boxers off to the side and lowered himself on top of you, laying you down further into the bed in the process. His lips captured yours as soon as your back hit the mattress, the way his lips moved against yours ever so softly was intoxicating.
“So pretty…” he whispered against your lips and trailed his pecks down your jaw and neck. “I don’t have a condom…” he whined as he came to a complete stop when he realized and you laughed.
“I’ll go get one real quick.” Wonwoo said and was getting up but your hands circled around his neck to keep him from leaving.
“I’m on the pill…” you whispered, waiting to see if he stayed. “I’m clean.”
“Me too. Are you sure you want to do it raw, honey?” His nose brushed against your cheek softly and your heart did a flip.
Call me a pet name once more and I’ll for real pass out, you thought.
“Yes.” Whispering, you kissed him again.
“You will kill me, for re-“ your hand pushing him to lay back on the mattress cut him off. His eyes were dark as you moved to climb on his lap.
Wonwoo’s fingers played with your hair when you started kissing his neck, trailing down his chest biting and sucking every single sensitive part.
“Are you always this wet?” He struggled to ask when he felt your hand guide his tip on your, seemingly forever-soaked, slit. You smirked and shook your head.
“Only when I’m thinking of you.” You rasped out and bit his lip.
“Oh God,” his head felt light after your statement.
“Oh, Wonu~” a whiny moan left yours lips as you finally sat on his length—slowly taking him in while you adjusted to his size. “So fucking big…”
“Mhm…” you heard him hum and looked down at him. His eyes were shut and his cheeks pink, his glasses fogging up a little due to the warmth of his skin. A smirk couldn’t help being formed on your face as you saw how drunk he was on your pussy—his chest rose rapidly as he struggled to keep himself together.
“Look at you, a fucking mess for me and I’m not even halfway down this pretty cock.” You teased and he whined. “What would the girl you’re in love with think, hmm?”
“Her little sweet Wonwoo being so pussy drunk for me, what would she think?” You taunted and saw him smirk when one of your hands reached to engulf his throat—or at least tried to.
“She doesn’t mind.” He groaned when you finally bottomed out. The feeling of his tip hitting your g-spot temporarily distracted you from the heartbreak his words caused—but the sting still remained there even when you both moaned loudly at the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you.
“Fuck, you feel so good, _____.” His hands fondled with your soft ass, gripping harshly to help you down his cock and back up.
“I love your cock…” you murmured, dizzy from the pleasure.
“Ah!” Wonwoo took the opportunity to play with your breasts that jiggled right on his face. His mouth sucked your nipples in and you could feel your orgasm building from the stimulation. “Won…”
“Shit, baby-“ he huffed when your walls clenched around his cock, your legs shaking a little and your hips bucking up.
“I’m so close…” you whined, half because of the pleasure and half because that meant the night was almost over. “Mmm, baby…”
“Yes, sweetie? Do you like that, pretty?” He groaned loudly at your whimpers, leg twitches, and the pet name.
His feet anchored him as his hips bucked upwards to fuck you, hands gripping your ass tightly.
“Kiss me, baby.” You didn’t wait a second before doing as told, your tongue sloppily made out with his, teeth clashing and wet sounds resonating in the room.
Wonwoo couldn’t help but stare at your face contort in pleasure as he kept his pace, the moonlight peeking through your blinds illuminated just the right places of your body—your eyes, your nose, your lips, your collarbones, your nipples, your navel, and the space where your pussy met with his cock.
“I’m so close, baby…” he moaned, hands leaving your ass and sliding up to your waist to pull you back down. “You look so pretty like this, all sweaty and hot.”
“Shut up, I’m gonna cum…” you whined and placed your fingers on his lips. “I don’t want you to ever stop.”
“Cum for me, beautiful.” Your legs shook uncontrollably and you cursed and moaned against his bare chest as your orgasm washed over you. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.”
His movements faltered as he thought of pulling out, but resumed moving when he heard your whines. The overstimulation of his big cock drilling into you was building a second orgasm within seconds of your first one.
“Fill me up, please!” You begged and that was the last straw for him.
“Fuck!” He moaned loudly and held you close.
The warm feeling of his cum filling you up and the loud, deep groans that left his lips triggered your second orgasm. You could feel the vibrations of his groans on his chest.
“God, you’re going to kill me.” He sighed in satisfaction and hands danced softly over your skin.
You soaked in his scent, he always smelled so good—musky and a little peachy. The way his chest moved as he caught his breath was calming, but still, the sting in your chest remained.
Your fingers mimicked his that were on your back, drawing shapes on his chest. The feeling of his soft skin on yours consumed your mind that you hadn’t noticed the tears falling from your eyes. It wasn’t until Wonwoo hummed and cupped your face worriedly that you noticed you were crying.
“Hey, what happened? Did I hurt you?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed in deep concern. “Do you regret it? Talk to me, baby.”
“Don’t call me that.” You sniffled and his heart broke seeing your face.
“Why not? What happened?”
“Why don’t you love me?”
Did you sound absolutely pathetic? Yes. Would you be asking this if you were in all your senses? No.
“Am I only good for sex?”
“What?” He immediately sat up, switching your bodies, cupping your face as he looked down at you. “What are you talking about? Of course not!”
“You said the girl you love wouldn’t mind you fucking me. But if you love her, why would you do it? You were thinking about her, weren’t you?” You sobbed softly and he was as confused as ever.
“Wait, is that why you’re sad? You think I’m using you?” He asked, heart shattering. “I thought you had caught on.”
You hummed in confusion and he smiled, angering you before his lips pecked yours ever so gently a couple of times.
“I said she wouldn’t mind because the girl is you.” He said and kissed you once more. “I thought you were teasing me so I decided to follow you. I didn’t actually mean to imply that there was someone else.”
His thumbs wiped your tears, funnily enough, the same way he had done so earlier but for different reasons.
“I am stupidly in love with you.” He confessed and kissed you again. “Please don’t cry, I don’t like seeing you sad.”
“You love me?”
“I love you.” He repeated. “I have for a long time now, but I always thought you liked Mingyu.”
“Ew, out of everyone Mingyu?” Your face contorted and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Lord, did you love that lame laugh.
“So, nothing going on with you and Mingyu?” He asked tenderly, a sweet smile plastered on his face as you shook your head.
“Not at all.” You said. “I only want you.”
“Yeah? What about the guy you wanted to fuck?” He teased, reminding you of your confession that night.
You laughed and his heart swole with love at the sound.
“I already did, best dick ever.” Your words contrasted drastically with the way your eyes stared up at him.
“Oh yeah? Nothing like this thing, huh?” He asked, your forgotten glass toy in his palm and you blushed.
“I believe I had underestimated the size…” you snickered and he kissed your lips after carefully tossing the toy on too of his clothes that laid on the floor.
“You’re boosting my ego, love.” He mumbled against your lips with a smile. “I still can’t believe I caught you touching yourself to the thought of me. I thought I had died and gone to heaven for a bit.” He teased.
“And I can’t believe I caught you spying on me touching myself while touching yourself.” He kissed the smirk off your face, but you could feel his warm cheeks against your face.
“Talking about that, I’m still inside you.” He regretted saying that as soon as he did, cause you clenched around him purposefully. “Mmm…”
“How about a round two? But this time you make love to me?” This time, it was you who kissed him lovingly:
“I will make love to you tonight and every night that you let me be in your life.” He said, already loving to hover over your naked body. “I love you.”
“I love you more, Wonwon.” He kissed you, leaving Mingyu and the boys wondering why he never showed up at his apartment again.
Next time your friends come over, you gathered around the same coffee table, this time playing some board game before you stood up to refill the snack bowls.
“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get more snacks and drinks for y’all.” You said and stood up.
“I’ll help you.” The man next to you said and stood up, following behind you.
“Should we tell them?” Wonwoo asked as he hugged you from behind, pressing you into the counter slightly as you refilled the bowls with chips and put a bag of popcorn in the microwave.
“No, they’re annoying.” You replied and he laughed heartily.
“I am seriously considering kicking them out. I can tell you’re cold.” He smirked and kissed your neck while his hands crept around you to tease your nipples over your shirt.
“Stop it.” You shivered at the pinch of his fingers on your sensitive buds.
“Give me a kiss at least. You haven’t kissed me since they got here, I miss you.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, love. I’m right here.” You smiled and turned around, your back now pressed against the counter, his arms still enclosing you. Looking up at him, you pecked his lips quickly—once.
“Kiss me like you mean it.” Wonwoo said frowning, eyes narrowing when you didn’t move.
His hands moved to cup your face to bring your face close to his, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. You moaned quietly when his tongue invaded your mouth, your hands traveling down from his back to his small butt, squeezing affectionately and making him gasp and giggle against your lips.
“Hey, do you have- OH! MY! GOD!” That annoying voice—you were going to strangle him. Wonwoo jumped back and looked at Mingyu with wide eyes.
“What happened?” You heard a concerned Jeonghan ask.
“THEY ARE HAVING SEX IN THE KITCHEN!” Mingyu yelled in response.
“KIM MINGYU! WE ARE NOT!” Wonwoo couldn’t help but smile when he saw you chase around the tall guy who kept repeating the same thing over and over.
“HE WAS SUCKING HER FACE!” He heard Mingyu say and you arguing back.
“WE WERE JUST KISSING. SHUT UP!”
Lord, was he in love with you.
NEOYUNO 2022
Soak Me Sweet
pairing(s) : Seonghwa x reader
word count : 3113
summary : A teasing brat, a soft dom, and a night full of mess.
genre : smut
warning(s) : overstimulation, face-sitting, squirting, spit, fingering, face-riding, pussy grinding on abs, brat x soft dom dynamic, cock worship, deep penetration, crying during sex, praise + light degradation, dumbification, aftercare, feeding water post-orgasm, creampie. Let me know if I missed anything!
Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!
🪐smut under the cut 🪐
The moment your back hits the mattress, you already know you’re in for it.
Seonghwa doesn’t even say a word. Just stands at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, head tilted like he’s trying to figure out what kind of punishment best fits your crime — which, for the record, was simply whispering “you’re so slow, grandpa” when he took more than five seconds to unbutton his shirt.
Your legs kick a little in the air as you giggle, pretending innocence.
“Hwaaa, come on~ don’t look at me like that…”
He lets out a soft exhale through his nose, not quite a laugh, but definitely not amusement either. “Grandpa?” he echoes, slowly crawling onto the bed like a lion cornering prey. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already mouthing off?”
You squeal when he grabs your ankle, pulling you down toward him with one smooth yank.
“Hwa—! You’re being mean—”
“You called me a grandpa, baby,” he cuts you off with that maddeningly calm voice. His fingers tug at your shorts, slipping them down with ease. “But look at you. Dripping like you need me more than air.”
You want to argue, throw a comeback, something—but the moment the cold air kisses your soaked panties, your thighs twitch on instinct, traitorous.
Seonghwa smiles. Not the sweet smile he gives you when he makes you coffee in the morning, or kisses your forehead when you’re sleepy. No, this one is dark. Mischievous. Dangerous in the most delicious way.
“You gonna behave?” he murmurs, thumb brushing the wet patch forming between your legs.
You pout, hips squirming just a little. “M’not that bad…”
“Mm.” He hums like he’s not convinced. “Guess I’ll just have to fuck the attitude out of you.”
And just like that, his head disappears between your thighs.
Your fingers barely graze the sheets before he’s already settled between your thighs — pushing them open, kissing the inside of your knee like he’s being gentle, but his eyes burn with something else entirely.
“Don’t move,” he murmurs, breath hot against your inner thigh. “You start wiggling and squirming, I’ll just tie you up instead.”
You let out a breathy laugh, but it catches in your throat the second his mouth presses over the soaked fabric of your panties. No teasing. No slow build. He groans into it like he’s been starving, tongue immediately dragging along the soaked cotton.
“Oh my god—Hwa,” you whine, hips jumping.
His hands fly up instantly—one across your lower belly, pinning you down; the other gripping your thigh with a bruising promise.
“Still, baby,” he warns, voice low and sticky. “I haven’t even started yet.”
With maddening precision, he pulls your panties aside, exposing your soaked folds to the cool air—and then warmer heat.
His tongue.
It starts with one, slow, filthy drag — a long, purposeful lick from your entrance to your clit, and it’s wet. Messy. Loud. The kind of sound that makes your toes curl, your chest stutter.
“Oh—Hwa—fuck—”
“You taste so fucking good,” he growls, barely pulling back before diving in again. His spit drips from his lips as he laps at you hungrily, tongue flattening then curling, dragging up and down until your thighs shake. “How are you this wet already? What kind of mess are you planning to make for me, huh?”
Your back arches with a whimper, fingers flying into his hair for anything to anchor you.
Then he spits.
Right onto your cunt.
A thick, warm string that lands directly on your clit, and you sob — full-body, high-pitched, like it knocked the air out of you. He doesn’t even wait. Rubs the spit in with the flat of his tongue, circular motions that leave you twitching.
“You’re drooling,” he chuckles darkly, glancing up at your flushed face. “Pretty baby can’t handle a little tongue?”
“I’m gonna die—” you gasp, high-pitched and whiny.
“Then die for me, baby,” he murmurs with a smirk before he shoves his tongue in.
The way he fucks you with it, deep and slow, alternating between curling inside and sucking on your clit like he’s trying to ruin every future orgasm you’ll ever have.
The pressure in your belly builds fast. Too fast.
“Hwa—Hwa, I’m gonna—”
He doesn’t stop. Not for a second. In fact, he groans into you, the vibrations tipping you right over.
You scream when it hits — legs jerking, hips stuttering, liquid gushing out of you as your vision goes white. You squirt hard, soaking his face, and all Seonghwa does is moan like it’s the best reward in the world.
And then?
Then he doesn’t stop.
Tongue lapping up every drop, fingers suddenly slipping in to stretch you open more, curling just right.
You try to close your legs, but he pushes them apart. “We’re not done yet, baby. You wanted to run your mouth, remember?” he pants, face soaked with your slick. “Now be good and cum again for me. Squirt again. Make it messier this time.” he whispers against your cunt, fingers sliding in smoothly right after your orgasm leaves you twitching. “So fucking pretty when you squirt all over me. Think you can do it again?”
You try to answer. You really try.
But all you can let out is a choked sob and a breathless, “Hwaaa—s’too much—!”
He grins.
That stupid, gorgeous, smug grin.
“Too much?” he teases, crooking his fingers inside you just right, angling upward until he hits that devastating spot again and again and again. “You say that, but this slutty pussy keeps sucking me in like you need it.”
Your thighs twitch again. He doesn’t even bother holding you down this time — just lets your hips writhe, lets your body jerk as your slick runs down the inside of your legs. His mouth glistens, cheeks shiny with your mess. And when you manage to lift your dazed eyes, that’s when you see it—
He’s grinning as your juices drip down his chin.
“You made such a mess,” he says, almost in awe. “Let’s make it worse.”
His pace speeds up. Wet sounds fill the room—obscene, echoing. His fingers pump hard and fast, curl deep, then scissor slightly just to watch your thighs fly open and twitch again.
“Hwa—ohmygod—fuckfuckfuck—” You sob, back arching as your eyes roll.
You squirt again—harder this time, right into his face. A splash across his cheek, chin, the tip of his nose. His tongue darts out, licking some of it off with a soft moan.
“Fucking perfect,” he mutters. “Wanna bottle it. Want you dripping all over me every fucking night.”
Your whole body’s trembling, oversensitive, dumbed out—until you feel him pause.
Then—slowly—he brings his soaked fingers up to your lips, sticky and dripping. “Open,” he says, voice lower than before.
You hesitate, dazed.
He taps your lip. “Be a good girl.”
And you obey.
He pushes his fingers into your mouth—your own taste coating your tongue, salty and slick, messy from your orgasm. He groans when your lips wrap around them, when your tongue swirls over his knuckles like you’ve gone cockdrunk off his hand.
“Fuck… you look so pretty like this. Sucking my fingers after I made you squirt all over my face.”
You whimper around them, tears threatening at the corners of your eyes as your hips twitch again—like your body doesn’t even know how to stop reacting to him.
He leans closer, kissing your cheek tenderly.
Then he licks a stripe up the side of your face, whispering right against your ear—
“Bet you’ll let me do it again, won’t you? Make you squirt a third time just so I can drink it this time.”
You’re panting.
Barely conscious. Barely alive. Your thighs are soaked, your voice is hoarse, your brain’s not even stringing full thoughts together—just babbling nonsense through tear-lined lashes.
But then his hands are on your hips.
“C’mere,” he whispers.
You blink slowly, dazed. “Wha—?”
He pulls you up—gentle but firm—guiding your thighs toward his face. “Up here, baby. Come sit on it.”
You let out a strangled whimper. “I-I can’t—Hwa—too much, I’m gonna break—”
“You’re not gonna break,” he says with a dark little smile. “You’re gonna ride. Now come up here and fuck my face like the needy little brat you are.”
Your cunt pulses just from those words.
So you do. Wobbly and wet, you crawl forward and straddle his face, thighs shaking on either side of his head. He doesn’t wait—not even a second. Just drags his tongue up your slit with a deep, needy groan that vibrates straight into your core.
“Oh my god—” you cry, your hands flying to the headboard as your hips jerk forward. “Hwa—Hwa, fuck—!”
He moans into you, hands gripping your ass tight, pulling you down harder against his face. There’s no space to breathe. No air between you. Just your soaked cunt grinding against his tongue and the obscene wet noises of him slurping you up like he’s trying to drink every drop.
Your hips move on their own. Grinding, rocking, chasing that sharp edge again even though you’re already so far gone. His tongue flicks against your clit, fast and filthy, while he fucks two fingers back inside you from below—curling, pumping—
Then he spits.
Right onto your clit again, mid-lick.
You scream. No build-up. Just full-body twitching, a gush of slick releasing again, pouring onto his mouth as you squirt across his chin and neck.
But he doesn’t stop.
If anything, he groans like it’s better than heaven, like your squirt is feeding him. He’s drenched. It’s dripping down his throat, into his hair, his lashes soaked with it—but his tongue stays relentless, licking and sucking like you’re his only purpose.
You’re sobbing, whimpering, brain-fucked into a spiral. “I-I can’t—s’too much—f-fuck I’m gonna—Hwa—please—”
He pulls back just for a second, spit-slick lips glistening, eyes dark and wild.
“Don’t you dare stop moving,” he rasps, voice hoarse from moaning into your pussy. “You ride me like you want it. Wanna feel you cum again on my tongue, baby. Wanna drown in it.”
You whine like you’ve lost control of your entire body.
But you move.
You grind harder, faster—facefucking him, completely shameless now, your hips bouncing with wet, sloppy sounds as his tongue fucks up into you, fingers curling, his mouth messy and hungry—
Until you break.
You cum again.
Harder than before. Screaming his name, sobbing, gasping for air as your vision blacks out for a second from the intensity. Your squirt gushes down over his face, and he lets it, mouth open, drinking what he can while the rest drips down his cheeks and into the pillows.
When you finally collapse forward, trembling and crying, he’s panting under you — lips red and swollen, hair soaked with your slick.
“Fuck…” he whispers, kissing the inside of your thigh softly. “You’re so fucking perfect when you cum like that. So messy. So ruined. My beautiful little slut.”
Your whole body’s still twitching — but instead of flopping down beside him, you crawl lower.
Right over his chest.
Seonghwa watches you with a lazy, soaked smirk. His hair is sticking to his forehead, his entire face glistening with your cum, lips swollen from your pussy, but still — he watches like he knows you’re not finished.
He’s sprawled on the bed, shirt half open, abs flexing beneath you with every breath. And your slick? Still dripping.
“What are you doing now, hm?” he asks, voice low and gravelly.
You don’t answer — not with words. Just sink your hips down and grind your messy cunt along the ridges of his abs. Soaking him. Leaving sticky, shiny trails over his skin with every little rock of your hips.
He hisses.
“Fucking hell…”
You whimper on purpose. Soft, bratty. “You’re so… hard, baby,” you murmur, grinding again — letting your puffy folds press right against the line of muscle below his ribs. “S-so strong… feels so good under me…”
His jaw clenches.
“Are you trying to break me?” he growls. “Is that it? You wanna tease me until I lose it?”
You giggle breathlessly, leaning forward to kiss the corner of his mouth — sweetly, innocently — while your hips roll again. “You can take it, right? Big boy?”
And that’s it.
With one swift, rough move, he grabs your hips and flips you onto your back, pinning you with his weight. His cock slaps against your inner thigh — flushed, thick, leaking, angry from being ignored for too long.
“I spoil you too fucking much,” he mutters, lining himself up at your entrance, guiding the thick head through your soaked folds. “Now look what you did to me. Look what you made me.”
You whimper, legs wrapping around his waist, your hands gripping his shoulders.
“You wanted cock so bad?” he growls, voice breaking as he pushes in, thick head stretching you open inch by inch. “Fucking take it, baby.”
You scream — back arching as he fills you. He’s big. Heavy. And he goes in deep without stopping, until you’re gasping, whimpering, clinging to him like you might lose your mind.
“God, you’re so tight…” he groans, hips snapping once just to feel you spasm around him. “So fucking wet. You like teasing me just to get ruined, huh? You like making me fuck you stupid?”
You nod. Fast. Dumb. Crying. “Yes—yes, please—ruin me—need it so bad, baby—”
He fucks you hard.
Deep, full thrusts that knock the air out of your lungs. His cock kisses your cervix with every push, making your mouth fall open, your brain turn to soup. Your nails scratch down his back. You’re moaning so loud now, wet noises echoing between you both, slick coating your thighs, his cock, the sheets.
“Such a messy little brat,” he pants, staring down at the way your tits bounce with every thrust. “You ride my face, grind on my abs, and then look at me like you’re innocent.”
You cry out again when he angles his hips just right—rubbing your g-spot with every stroke.
“Cum again,” he growls, leaning close, biting your bottom lip. “Squirt all over my cock, baby. Wanna feel you soak me. Be a good girl and fuckin’ let go.”
And just like that — it hits.
You convulse under him, nails clawing his shoulders, legs wrapped tight as you squirt again — all over his cock, your body wracked with trembles as the orgasm rips through you. He moans loud as you gush around him, then fucks you through it, greedy, obsessive.
“Fucking mine,” he breathes. “All mine. Look how dumb you get on my dick. So fucking pretty…”
You barely hear him.
Your body’s limp. Eyes glassy. Brain fuzzy with pleasure.
And Seonghwa just slows his thrusts, cups your face gently, kissing your cheeks as his cock pulses inside you. “Shh… I got you, baby. Gonna cum deep inside this perfect pussy now. You want it, don’t you? Wanna be filled up?”
You nod like you’re drunk on him.
“Good girl,” he whispers, hips rolling one last time as he buries himself, groaning your name like a prayer while he spills inside you.
You don’t even remember how your legs untangle.
One second, you're flat on your back, twitching and crying through your orgasm with his cum dripping out of you—
The next, you're being scooped into warm arms.
Seonghwa presses gentle kisses across your collarbone as he lifts you, bridal-style, ignoring how soaked both your thighs are, how his cock’s still half-hard and messy between you.
“You okay, baby?” he murmurs, voice soft, thumb brushing your cheek. “Still with me?”
You nod—barely.
More like a sleepy nuzzle into his chest.
He chuckles quietly, carrying you across the room, carefully laying you on fresh sheets. Then, he disappears for just a moment—
And comes back with a cold bottle of water.
“Drink,” he says, crouching down beside the bed. His fingers guide the rim of the bottle to your lips, slow and careful. “You squirted like a fountain, princess. Gotta refill you.”
You whimper softly, but sip.
The cold water hits your throat like heaven. You gulp it down greedily, and he smiles like he’s proud—like watching you drink is the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead between sips. “Such a mess. You’re all sticky, baby… all over me. Look.”
He pulls back slightly and shows you: his abs, still glistening with the trail you left when you grinded on him. His mouth? Still shiny from when you sat on his face. The smirk on his lips? Deadly.
You cover your face with both hands, whining through your fingers.
“Nuh-uh,” he says sweetly, pulling your hands down. “Don’t hide. You’re beautiful like this.”
His voice drops to a tender murmur, and he leans down to kiss your thighs—one, then the other—slow, almost reverent. “You did so well for me. Let me clean you up, okay?”
You nod, still glassy-eyed, still overwhelmed.
He wipes between your thighs with a warm, wet cloth, so gently it almost makes you cry again. Every little touch is patient, delicate — like he’s handling something precious. He kisses your knees, massages your hips, brushes damp hair away from your temples.
“I didn’t mean to fuck you that dumb,” he murmurs, chuckling under his breath. “But you were teasing me so much, baby. What was I supposed to do?”
You let out a hoarse giggle. Barely audible. But your smile is soft, satisfied.
When he finally crawls into bed with you, he pulls the blanket up over your legs, snuggles in behind you, and curls an arm around your waist, his chest pressed to your back.
“Tomorrow,” he whispers into your ear, “you’re not allowed to walk. I’m carrying you everywhere.”
You hum, sleepy.
He kisses your shoulder.
“…And maybe next time,” he adds with a grin, “you ride my face and my cock in the same session. For science.”
You groan into the pillow.
He laughs.
And pulls you closer like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
