you ran your fingers through your hair as you looked at teddy while he talked to his dad. you had quickly talked to him, telling him that you and teddy had been together for a couple of years.
you technically weren’t lying, just the relationship wasn’t what he would think it was. as you thought to yourself you would feel hands on your back, looking up to see teddy now in front of you.
“you okay?” teddy asked, bending down to say it in your ear. you would nod, placing your hands on his chest.
“a little nervous, and a bit hungry.” he nodded and let out a soft chuckle, wrapping his arm around your waist and walking towards both of your seats.
“you dont need to be nervous, the hard part happened already. now the second part, i can get someone to get us some food. just let me know what you want and i’ll get it for us.” you shook your head, laughing at how easy it was for him to get anything.
“should’ve known teddy spencer gets whatever he wants.” you rolled your eyes playfully as you both made it up to the box, yelping at the sudden harsh slap sent to your backside. “what was that for?”
“it was all in my face, you wanted me to leave it alone?” you playfully slapped him in the chest as you watched from your seat as everyone sat down. you would see you were the only ones in the high boxes, your eyes furrowed in confusion.
“your dads not joining us up here?” he shook his head, wrapping his arm around your back as got comfortable in his seat.
“you cant smoke up here, also i wanted us to properly be alone. now what do you want to eat?” he pulled out his phone, a message thread with someone named ‘oliver’ in your eyesight. “this is the assistant my dad got for me. and technically he’s both of ours now.”
“ours? why is it ours now?” he laughed, looking at you as his free hand laid against his chest.
“i hope you didnt think this was the last time id ask you to come out with me right? this is a forever thing now.” his hand moved from your back to your waist, his free hand giving you the phone.
you laughed, chuckling before actually thinking about what you wanted. you were hungry, but you obviously didnt want something completely filling. somethings telling you this man is going to put you through the ringer after this show.
you typed ‘ a simple bacon cheeseburger, fries and a drink’, not sending it before giving the phone back to teddy. he would little chuckle before adding something else to the text before putting his phone away. the show was starting in twenty minutes, just enough to eat once the food hopefully gets here in time.
“youre so cute, you know that right?” he would bend down to whisper in your ear, his free hand moving to your thighs.
“because i asked for a burger and fries?” you spoke playfully, your hands moving to his shoulders. he shook his head, tilting your head upwards.
“no beautiful, i just think you’re cute. you dont think youre cute?”
“i think im sexy, not cute.” you would say, your hands moving to caress his face. he would melt almost instantly, staring at you semi intensely. “you dont think im sexy?”
“i-i didn’t say that.” he would stammer, chewing on his bottom lip. “i wouldn’t say that. you dont like both?”
“nah, i prefer being sexy.” he would softly sigh, his hands pulling you into his lap. you would softly yelp, trying to move. “we’re in public, what if someone sees us?”
“see, that was cute. now how would you convey that sexily, i truly wonder.” his hands moving back to your thigh, his head dipping towards your neck and softly kissing your neck.
your nails would dig into his biceps, softly sighing. your other hand would cradle the back of teddy’s head, your nails grazing his hair. “teddy..”
“nah, show me how sexy you are. you said you were sexy, not cute right?” he would place wet open mouth kisses on your collarbone. you threw your head back, squirming in his lap as his hand moved up your dress. as he hooked his finger on your underwear, someone clearing their throat, stopping him in his tracks.
“theodore.” a mans voice would gently break the interaction, causing you to swat the mans hand away before quickly getting back in your seat, highly embarrassed. your face was so hot and flustered it became itchy, gently scratching your jawline to soothe it.
teddy kissed his teeth, turning to a man who you assumed was oliver. he had food in his hand, accompanied by a specific dessert you loved that you often raved to teddy about.
he would take the food and drinks from the man, handing them to you before pulling out one of those tv dinner table stands. you giggled at the tabled, shaking your head.
“thats it oliver, thanks.” he would wave the man off as he took the things back from you, placing it on the table. “this is convenient right?”
“you’re ridiculous.” you snorted before immediately digging in once given your food. you groaned in delight, not knowing how a bacon cheeseburger burger can get this good. must be one of those crazy expensive wagyu ones.
“eat and relax baby. we’ve got a little under 15 minutes to eat before the show starts.” you nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder.
as you would look around it would hit you that you were living the dream. tonight was a dream.
and it was about to get a whole lot dreamier.
this opera was super boring.
you had yawned at least twenty times in the span of fifteen minutes. teddy was trying his best to wake your body up, rubbing your back.
but it was no avail, leaning into the males chest. he had someone get you a blanket, placing it on you to make you more comfortable. if you wanted to sleep, he’d give you the chance to. all he cared about was making sure you were alright, no one else.
not even himself sometimes.
he didn’t want to admit it to you, but you were his entire world. he had reached out to you, just wanting to burn money and have someone that would be essentially be forced to listen to him.
but within months of knowing you, he knew this wasn’t a normal sugar baby, sugar daddy relationship. you made him smile, made him happy to wake up, even giddy to spend money on you.
by your first ‘anniversary’, he knew he needed to have you in your life. he had to have you forever, no matter what it took. he just hoped you felt as much as he did.
“c’mere.” teddy would pull you on his lap, completely disregarding the setting both of you were in. the loud singing and teddys demeanor would send goosebumps down your spine, shivering in his touch.
“is this waking you up enough?” he softly asked, whispering in your ear. you nodded, feeling his hands creep up your dress. “no distractions now, right? all i need you to do is stay quiet for me.”
you were slightly confused on what he meant until you felt his hands move your underwear to the side. his fingers would brush against your clit, slightly startled by the sudden feeling. “teddy, we’re in public.”
“that didnt stop you three months from flashing me when you were bra shopping, did it? now hush, i dont want anyone else hearing you.” he smiled before gently placing his hand over your mouth.
your head would fall back as you feel his fingers play with your folds, looking down at your facial expressions. he got off seeing you laugh, squirm, just anything that involved him. anything you did made him happy, horny, all the above.
he hissed as he slid his middle finger inside of you, looking up to see her reaction. your eyes were fluttering, his hands still pressed against her mouth. he smirked at the sight, placing a soft kiss on your temple.
“thats it baby, you’re doing so good for me yeah?” he lowly spoke in your ear, gently nibbling afterwards. with one hand you would grip on his shoulder, the other on the seat as you moaned into teddy’s mouth. “mm thats a good girl.”
your eyes would roll back, your nails digging further into his shoulders as he picked up the pace. thankfully you were so high up, or else your wetness would be heard from everyone in the area.
“teddy, fuck someone is definitely gonna catch us. stop.” you whispered after pulling his hand off your mouth, letting out a whine on the last word. teddy would be a little shit and pick up the pace once again, his eyes focused on how loud your pussy was.
“i dont give a fuck. if youre gonna keep sounding like this i dont know how you expect me not to act out.” he leaned over you, his lips ghosting over yours as he continued to thrust his fingers inside.
“fuckk, you’re gonna make me cum with how fast you’re going!” you whisper-yelled, fully charged up to yell at the male. he would sense this and immediately shut you up with a kiss, growling in your mouth.
your pussy was crying at this point, and his fingers were soaked. you could feel his erection on your backside, and boy that thing was bigger than in the car.
if he was soft in the car, you were screwed if he actually fucked you.
you would let out heavy pants, your body slightly shaking as he sped up and slowed down according by your facial expressions.
he quickly broke the kiss as he felt your orgasm was approaching, groaning in your ear. “cum for me baby, finish for daddy.”
both of your hands would move to his back, gently dragging your fingers along as your body starting to shake.
he softly sighed, a smile on his face as you shook, his free hand gripping his erection. he wanted to fuck you so bad, but these seats and this atmosphere wasnt made for how hot and heavy you both would end up.
you pulled the man into a kiss, closing your eyes tightly as you orgasmed. your moans would be muffled in his mouth, but neither of you cared. you needed each other.
“fuck, cmon. i’ll see if oliver can get us the closest hotel room to here. i cant waste another minute without you.” teddy let out soft groans as he waited for you to come off your high, biting down on his bottom lip.
you quickly moved off his lap, fixing yourself as he quickly texted oliver. thankfully for the both of you, intermission had just started. once the lights came on, you both would scurry to the lobby, hopefully disappearing in the sea of people.
teddys grasp was still slightly protective, but more sensual than before. his hands were tight on your hips, itching to be grabbing your face or better yet your backside.
after twelve minutes, the exact time it took from your seats to outside, teddys jacket and sweater were off, the atmosphere suddenly too hot, even in the cold weather.
“do you think anyone will notice we’re gone?” you asked once inside the car, fanning your hot face with your hand. the after effects of your orgasm still lingered, making everything unbearably hot.
“probably, but i already told my dad we were leaving. im jusy glad he doesn’t know exactly why i did. lets not think about him right now.” he smirked as the driver drove away from the theater, pulling you into his arms.
he crashed his lips unto yours, slithering his tongue in your mouth. at that moment, there was no one else but both of you in the car. it was private, intimate, something that wasnt in the back of a car.
your dress was hiked up, teddy’s hands roaming all around. you moaned softly as you felt the man bite and suck on your neck, definitely leaving a hickey. you didn’t care at all though. he could do whatever he wanted in this moment, and you would take it.
“god baby, i dont know why i thought i could keep my hands off you. you just do something to me, i dont know how you do it.” teddy spoke before crashing his lips back on you, lifting your hips up while he took your underwear off.
you felt the car stop, tapping the man. he would stop after your taps got harder, sighing. “what?”
“we’re here.” you pointed to the hotel, the man quickly apologizing before picking up his wallet and a duffle bag that was in the back of the truck.
“sorry baby. lets get in here, im not wasting any time.” he would help you out the car before picking you up bridal style, heading to a back door. oliver would be there waiting, a key card in his hand. him and teddy would simple communicate with a nod.
“dont forget i dont have any panties on theodore.” teddy kissed his teeth, giving you a harsh slap on your asscheeks as he gently took you into the elevator.
“who said you could call me that?” another harsh slap would be sent to your ass, the man quickly unbuckling his pants as the elevator roared upwards to the 47th floor. “you keep playin’.”
your hands would play in his hair as he unbuttoned his shirt, the elevator opening. you let out a sigh of relief as no one was on the floor, the man chuckling.
“what?” you asked, a look of annoyance on your face. “im just glad no ones on this floor.”
“baby, this floor only has one room, our room.”
“oh.” you would softly say, completely forgetting how rich teddy really was and the doors he, figuratively and literally, opened.
teddy didnt waste time, opening to the door to the beautifully decorated room. he would then gently place you on the bed, quickly taking off his floor. “let me use the bathroom real quick. it wont take long i promise.”
you nodded, softly giggling as he smiled at you before walking into the bathroom, softly closing the door. you sighed once you heard the click of the door, getting up and taking off your dress very carefully.
you quickly went to the other bathroom to use the bathroom and wash your hands before coming back, taking time to play something off the tv.
you heard the toilet flush before quickly covering your naked body with the comforter, biting down on your bottom lip.
the door would open and out came the male, fully naked with his clothes in his hands. he would throw them to the side before slowly crawling on the bed, eventually opening the comforter up.
he bit down on his bottom lip as he marveled at your naked body, getting comfortable next to you. he would pat his lap, leaning his head back. “come sit on it.”
you moved over to the man, placing your hands onto his chest as you hooked your legs on his thighs. you lifted up your hips, leaning your head on his neck as you felt his length slapping against your asscheeks.
“teddy..” you softly spoke, feeling his massive length now rubbing up against your folds. “dont break me.”
“i couldn’t even if i wanted to.” he kissed your temple, holding onto his length before slowly sliding himself in. both of you would let out groans, chuckling afterwards. “god you’re tight as fuck.”
“teddy, fuck.” you softly let out, getting adjusted to his length before starting to softly bounce up and down. the man held onto your hips, gritting his teeth.
“please go faster, you’re-fuck-swallowing me up.” teddy said through gritted teeth, his fingers digging into your sides.
you would oblige, hands on his stomach as you picked up the pace, throwing your head back in ecstasy. his cock deliciously hit every spot perfectly, your body jolting with every feeling. “oh fuck!”
“that feels good huh baby? you like getting fucked like this?” his hands would move your hips up and down for you, hitting more spots than you ever could. you would kiss his neck repeatedly as he forced you up and down himself. “you’re such a dirty girl huh?”
“yes, yes!” you moaned out, your eyes fluttering as you wrapped your arm’s around the man’s body. he looked down and laughed, seeing the pathetic look in your eye as he now starting to buck his hips up.
a white flash washed over you, letting out a soft gasp as he pounded into you. he was fucking you like he wanted you pregnant, as crazy as it might’ve sounded out loud.
the sounds you both were making were borderline filthy, spitting out obscene words to each other to boot. your moans became highpitched and damn near pornographic, close to losing your voice.
before your orgasm would even get to build, the man would stop, slowly sliding out of you. you started to gasp in annoyance, ready to speak before you were flipped over.
teddy would force an arch in your back, his fingers digging into your hips. he slowly slid into you before quickly slamming in and out, letting out a soft whimper.
“damn you feel so good baby, you’re wetting me up like you want me to put a baby in you, you want my babies?” he softly spoke, moving his right hand to wrap around your neck, softly squeezing.
you clenched around him, letting out broken sobs as he continued to rock your body. you could barely let words, only a bunch of garbled mess. “mmph..”
“i dont think thats words baby, you want daddy to give you a baby?” he softened his squeezes on your neck, giving you wet kisses on your temple. “you think that sounds good?”
“yes, fuck!” you gently squawked out, your voice slightly going out. you were basically fucked out, your whole body shaking. “get me pregnant teddy.”
“we’re gonna make such pretty babies.” he whispered in your ear before pulling your head back by your hair, panting loudly in your ear. you could only moan, biting into the sheets as teddy unintentionally pushed your head into the bed and its sheets.
your eyes would roll back, letting out a loud groan as you felt your orgasm approaching. “teddy im gonna cum!”
“yeah? then do it, come for me baby.” he breathlessly spoke in your ear, feeling his sweat beaming down your arm and face.
you bit into the sheets, letting out a loud cry as your orgasm ripped through your body. teddy’s orgasm shortly ran through your body, holding onto his arms tightly. “shit!”
“that’s it baby, you’re doing so well for me. take all this nut baby.” he would kiss your temple repeatedly, nuzzling his nose against yours as both of y’all came down from each others highs.
teddy would gently pull out, smirking at his cream covered dick before walking into the bathroom to clean himself. he would come out after a bit to clean you off, pulling you under the sheets once he was done.
“you cant get rid of me now, hope you know that.” you giggled at his words, your eyes getting heavy. teddy would repeatedly kiss your cheek, whispering how great you were.
“y/n? y/n!” you would hear teddy say, his hand waving in front of you. you blinked, snapping out of the trance you were in. you laid on the hammock that was in his parents backyard, taking in the nice weather and breeze. “i was apparently having a one-sided conversation.”
“im sorry, what did you say?” you asked, rapidly blinking and wiping your eyes. you really have to stop daydreaming.
“my dad’s sending the menu list for the private chef for next wednesday and wanted to know what exactly you wanted.” you sat up on the bench, holding your pain riddled back.
“damn, it is this wednesday huh?” you spoke, gesturing the man to come rub your back. he would oblige, immediately massaging the right spots on your body. “jesus this day came by so fast. this is your fault by the way.”
“it wouldn’t be my fault if you didnt agree to have my baby. now look at you, pretty and pregnant.” his hand would rub your pregnant belly, softly kissing it before kissing your lips.
“i know right? you’re lucky youre cute.” both you and teddy would giggle, cuddling up to each other. “but i send the chef a email already, he has everything.”
he nodded, hands still on your belly. “what were you thinking about just now?”
“the day we met, which technically is the day we made this bundle of joy. god i cant believe i let my sugar daddy get me pregnant.” you laughed, shaking your head as you laid back in the chair.
“fiancé now, thank god i proposed before we knew you were pregnant.” teddy started, moving his hands to cradle your face. “look at us. can you believe it?”
you took time to think about it, ultimately shaking your head. you were pregnant by your sugar daddy-sorry your future husband. you initially thought this sugar daddy thing wasnt going to blossom in to something more.
but as you sat back, taking in everything, you internally scoffed. you were very wrong, and maybe that was for the best. you were the happiest you’ve ever been right now.
and it was all because of a damn sugar daddy website.
a/n: requested by _starmmi_, I don’t frequent mafia fics so apologies for any inaccuracies 😭
Summary: You’d just moved into the big city for work, but crime rates are through the roof and the whole place is run by one of the most powerful mafia groups. One night you’re almost mugged, but you’re saved by an unlikely figure who takes an interest in you.
Tags/warnings: MDNI, intimidation/threats but no harm depicted, slight angst then comfort, rich!Seonghwa prepared to spoil reader, yandere!seonghwa (instantly obsessed with reader), slight manipulation, breeding kink(breeding talk and impregnation), pet names (Flower, dove, darling), fingering, unprotected sex, praise
Disclaimer: not meant to represent him as like this irl or condone these behaviours irl, goon responsibly
Read Seonghwa #1 from the story ATEEZ Smut oneshots by urturningviolet with 0 reads. hongjoong, yeosang, seonghwa. Litt...
You wrap your arms tighter around your shivering form as you hurry down the sidewalk, cursing your past self for not grabbing a coat. The night air is crisp against your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake with every step. You were usually home much earlier than this, but work ran late and now you were walking home in the dark.
With only a few blocks left to your apartment, your pace quickens, eager to get out of the streets this late at night. Yet your ears perk when suddenly there’s a slight shuffle behind you. You don’t dare turn back, opting to keep your head down and walk on. Wrong choice.
A masked man jumps out from the next alleyway, you try to turn and run, only to find another one behind you. In an instant they’ve grabbed your arms, yanking you into the darkness. A scream erupts from your throat, but a gloved hand is quick to clamp over your mouth.
“Empty her pockets”, a gruff voice spits, holding you tightly as you attempt to squirm out of their grip.
You shake your head profusely, “I don’t have anything!”, you cry out, still muffled behind the hand. They ignore your words, patting your pockets for the slightest loose change.
“Bullshit!”, the man growls as he fishes your wallet out of your jeans. Your heart jumps into your throat as they chuckle sadistically.
“We don’t like to be lied to.” The other snarls in your ear. You squeeze your eyes shut, fearful of what’s to come.
“Gentleman!”, a voice booms from the entrance of the alley. The two men immediately drop your arms, turning to the source of the noise.
“Did I teach you to go around roughing up women like some second-rate con men?”, He chides, stepping forward. The men cower like dogs, and you know instantly he must be their leader.
“No, boss.” The once burly man almost whimpers, unable to meet his steely glare.
“Drop her wallet and get out of my sight!”, he sneers,” If I catch you doing some shit like this again, it won’t be a warning.”
With a chorus of “yes boss, sorry boss.” your wallet is gingerly placed back in your hands and the two men scurry off into the night. You sink to the ground, fear pumping through your veins.
“Are you alright?”, your saviour asks, kneeling next to you. At this distance, you can finally get a good look at him, and your heart skips a beat. You expected the mafia boss to be some wizened old man, not the slick back heartthrob in front of you.
Overcome with emotion, you’re at a loss for words. Stammering, you don’t even register the relief flooding through you until the tears start cascading down your cheeks.
“You poor thing”, the man sighs, a gloved hand coming up to gently wipe away your tears. “I don’t know why they’d be trying to bother a pretty flower like you”, he tuts, eyes darkening as he thinks of your attackers.
“Thank you”, you whimper, shivering against the cold brick of the wall beyond you. He quickly takes notice and sheds his coat, wrapping it around you. The fabric is silky smooth, unlike anything you’ve felt before.
“There’s no need to thank me”, he shakes his head with a smirk. Gracefully he stands up, reaching out a hand to you. “Come on.”
Wordlessly, you take his hand and electricity passes between your fingertips. He pulls you close to him and begins guiding you out of the alley. Gently purring on the street sits a slick black car, luxurious and shiny with tinted windows. He quickly opens the passenger side door, and beckons you in.
He exudes the aura of a hard-cut diamond, expensive and dangerous. His dress shirt is rolled up at each sleeve, revealing toned arms. He watches your eyes intently as if trying to figure out your next move.
“I don't even know your name”, you choke out, gaze darting between the plush seats and the handsome stranger. Sure he saved you from robbers, but that didn't mean all his intentions were pure.
His eyebrows shoot up at your words, shocked yet bemused,
“You must be new in town?”, he chuckles, leaning against the car.
“Park Seonghwa,” The name rolls off his plush lips like a title, filled with connotation that he's not to be messed with. “And you?”, he questions, catching you off guard.
“Y/N”, you murmur, finally daring to meet his gaze.
A glint of interest flickers in his eye as he nods, committing you to memory.
“A beautiful name”, he purrs, “Now that we’re acquainted-” he pats the hood of the car, gesturing to the seat. Everything in you is saying to run, to make an excuse, anything.
So it's unfathomable why you find yourself stepping into his car, settling into the soft seat. He quickly closes your door, making brisk strides around to ease into the driver's side.
Once he gets in, his eyes trail across your shaking form. “Poor little dove”, he coos, reaching out to stroke your cheek once more. “It's too dangerous for you in a city like this”, he scolds, “you need to be kept safe, locked away.” His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel as he begins driving.
“I can handle myself,” you scoff at his words, crossing your arms.
“You couldn't handle two low-level goons”, he fires back, and you can't say he's wrong.
“But you're adorable when you're indignant anyway”, he smirks at your pout.
“I think I'll keep you.” He says it so casually you don't even register his words for a moment.
“Keep me?” you repeat quietly, thinking you surely must have heard him wrong.
“Keep you safe, housed in my villa”, he clarifies as if that made it better. Although it kind of did.
“You won't ever need for anything again, a gorgeous flower like you deserves the lap of luxury”, he begins to ramble, the car drives past your apartment and keeps going.
“Aren't we moving rather fast-”, you stammer out, he quickly interrupts.
“You need me.” he insists gruffly, “this place is full of insane convicts and I know because I employ half of them. Imagine if I wasn't there just now to save you!” he lets out a dry laugh.
“You don’t have to worry anymore,” he speaks firmly, “You'll be untouchable in this smoking crater of a city, because you'll be my darling little wife.” he's entrenched in his fantasy, eyes darting to you hungrily in the mirror.
“If anybody tries to even get close to you-”, he trails off in a deep growl. You feel almost crazy for it but the tamber in his voice sends shivers through your body, flooding down below.
Sure he was being rather brusque, but being set for life when it came to safety and money sounded rather nice, not to mention he was obviously handsome. “I have always wanted a big wedding”, you mumble, shocked at yourself for considering the idea.
His eyes light up at your words, “Darling, you can spend a million on just the dress if you want. We’ll have the whole city in attendance, you just say the word”, A grin tugs at his lips as he speeds up the car.
“What about all my stuff back at my place?”, you question, thinking of your well-worn clothes.
“Buy new ones”, he casually shrugs as if it's obvious, “in the morning we’ll go shopping, get you a whole new wardrobe and whatever else.”
“Tonight, though, I’m gonna make you mine”, he growls, practically licking his lips as he tries to balance watching the road and staring at you.
The car pulls up to a massive gate which opens instantly, giving way to a long winding driveway. Up at the top is a building you can only describe as massive.
“Welcome home darling”, he coos, drinking up your shocked expression. He parks the car in a garage amongst many others, and quickly steps out to take your hand. He holds you closely, as if you’ll slip away from his grasp if he lets you stray too far. “I’ll show you our bedroom”, he purrs in your ear, emphasising the plural.
Suddenly you’re whisked away, roaming through ornate halls filled with priceless art and antiques. Seonghwa navigates the maze-like pattern seamlessly and pulls you into a large room
A velvety bed sits in the middle, and he practically throws you on it, eyes dark. You bounce off the plush material, landing splayed out like a marionette.
“Gonna make you all mine”, he grunts, taking off his tie. As his shirt falls slack, you catch a glimpse of his toned chest, already slick with anticipation.
He crawls onto the bed, almost drooling as he stares you down. His gaze is intense, sharp.
Despite yourself, you reach out to touch his face, familiarising yourself with the sharp curves of his features. He leans into the touch like a dog, obsessed. Your thumb pads over his plump lips and suddenly he's on you, lips smashed into yours.
He kisses you ferociously, tongue sliding across your lips and taking no time to force its way into your mouth. You can't help the whimper that escapes your throat but he hungrily swallows it.
“I wanna hear all the pretty noises you make, darling”, he groans, pleading eyes staring at you with adoration. He's quick to remove his jacket from you, throwing it somewhere in the room.
His careful hands run up and down the sides of your body, teasing at the edges of your clothes but not daring to make a move.
“It's like unwrapping a Christmas gift,” he mutters, stopping to palm his bulge through his pants. You try to start wiggling out of your outfit but he's quick to stop you, restraining your hands above your head.
“You just lie here and look pretty”, he growls, “I’ll take care of you.”
You nod, flustered, and he slowly but surely starts dragging your pants down your thighs. His breath hitches in his throat at the sight of you, helpless and exposed. He takes off each article of clothing gradually, like a museum proctor examining precious items.
“I already knew you were gorgeous, but this is just icing on the cake”, he sighs out, in awe of your form. His hands move to your breasts, squeezing them in his hands and watching for a reaction. You squirm under his touch, and he loves the sight. “You're ravishing”, he gasps, leaning in to press soft kisses against your skin. “This perfect body was made for me,” he whispers between kisses.
He steps away for only a moment to shed more clothing, gloves and shirt being discarded, kicked across the room. As he returns to you, his fingers find their way to your dripping hole.
“Look at all this mess down here”, he smirks, running the wetness around your entrance.
“You need me, don't you my little flower”, he taunts, fingertips just barely entering your hot centre.
“Say it.”, he growls, palming your pussy with his large hand.
“I need you”, you whimper out, blissful under his touch. His eyes almost roll back at your words, biting his lip as he tries to keep his composure.
“Again”, he grunts out, forehead touching yours as he looms over you.
“I need you Seonghwa”, you moan out, and instantly he crumbles. One arm is lifting your leg into the air while the other delves into your pussy, pumping two fingers slowly inside.
“I know darling, I'm gonna give you all of me”, his words come out in choked moans as he feels your wetness gush around his fingers. He slides in and out, obsessing over the feeling of your soft walls contracting around his digits. The thought of that same sensation on his cock makes his head spin.
He quickens the pace of his fingers, pumping in and out of you just to watch how you writhe and twitch, how your eyes flutter closed as moan after moan falls from your pretty lips.
“Gotta get you stretched out so you can take this dick”, he coos, scissoring his long fingers inside of you. Your legs kick as pleasure flows through you, but he presses a firm hand over you, a silent command to stay exactly where you were.
A white hot ball of tension begins to build in your stomach as his skilled fingers dip in and out of you, muttering praises as he watches, entranced by your pussy. Suddenly a hard slap comes down on it, sending vibrations from your clit to your damp hole. You whimper, unconsciously grabbing at his arm to his amusement.
“My little dove, I own you”, he growls, shifting position to where your hips are lifted from the bed and he’s finger-banging into you. Your back arches as you lean into his touch, chasing the orgasm he’s so eager to provide.
Your loud moans and wet sounds echo in the massive room, you’ve got no care for volume though as you sink further into the soft pillows, squirming at his touch.
It takes only a few more pumps for you to freeze, choking out, “Hwa, I’m cumming!” in gasping breaths. He groans heavily at your words, speaking up his finger work to bring you right to the edge.
“Cum for me, darling, cum on our bed”, he snarls, drinking in your pleasure. His words are enough to push you over the brink, and suddenly you’re pressing your legs together as your orgasm washes over you. Seonghwa watches in pure ecstasy, glassy eyes trailing over your body. “I wanna memorise that visual”, he sighs, still playing with your sopping cunt:
As you finally come down from the high, he just leans over you, softly kissing your head. “Now, I’m gonna fertilise that pussy”, he smirks at your convulsing hole. He wriggles out of his pants, finally revealing his aching cock that had been yearning for you for the past hour.
As he gets back on top, his twitching member brushes against your hole. He pays it no mind, though, capturing you in a sweet long kiss. A purposeful move. So that when his cock rammed into you, you'd be moaning into his mouth. The head of his cock pushes into your silky walls with ease, letting a deep moan exit your lips as he hip-rolls into you.
He stretches you out, walls fluttering to accommodate his length. “You're so tight around me baby, so perfect”, he stutters, eyes glued to the conjunction where his massive cock broke you open.
As his thrusts become rhythmic, his head pressed to your forehead, whispering sweet nothings. “You’ll look so good with that pregnancy glow”, he whimpers, eyes rolling back as he envisions it. “Roaming around our house, carrying our baby.” The thought of it elicits a growl from him as he picks up the pace, dick slamming into your pussy.
His words are lost on you as you only manage to moan incoherently, legs wrapping around his body as he pulses inside of you. His head nuzzles into your shoulder to quell to rough gasps and moans that leave his mouth at the feeling of your insides.
“Gonna fill you up”, he growls into your ear, “I’ll make a mess inside this pretty little hole”, his grunts turn into moans as your walls clamp around him. His tip hammering against your cervix, you lie there, head thrown back, mouth agape, as he pounds deeper and deeper into you.
Without warning, he lifts both of your legs, folding them against your chest. The new position lets his dick enter even deeper than before and it’s enough to make you unravel on the spot. A mewl curls out of you as your climax squirts out, dampening the mattress. The look in Seonghwa’s eyes is near deranged as he’s showered with your juices.
“Look at the mess you’re making for me”, he growls, punctuating each word with a rough thrust back inside you. “All for me”, he repeats over and over, making sure you know who you belong to. “Nobody else could make you cum like this, Nobody.” he rambles off, pressing wet kisses across your face.
His thrusts soon become sloppy, digging into you at any angle he could. His breath ran ragged as he fought to keep his eyes open and watch you taking him. “I’m gonna fill you up, darling”, he spurts out, grip tightening on your hips to throw you back against him.
“Fill me”, you whine out, and he growls at your words.
He puts all the last of his energy into pounding his orgasm into you, when the ropes of cum start to shoot out he only keeps going. “We gotta get it deep in there, darling, so you can give me an heir”, he coos, keeping your hips lifted so his climax stays pooling inside you.
Finally, he collapses against you, dick still twitching inside. Like a light switch, he’s back to gentle, kissing your forehead and humming about what a good job you did.
“Tomorrow, I’ll have a bassinet flown in from Milan”, he smirks.
Summary: (Y/N) Marks had no free time. From studying for med school, working her rounds for clinical, and the occasional babysitting her sisters sprung on her, she was all booked up. But none of that stopped her from aiding her sister and their best friends to rob a grocery store. She could have never guessed those couple of minutes would be enough to change her life forever or that it would lead to her meeting the man that would catalyze that shift.
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pairing﹢jeong yunho x fem!reader
genre﹢smut. heavy dialogue, dilf!yunho, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, yunho in his early 40s), original characters for narrative purposes (jeong minho, kim minsoo). manipulative, obsessive + possessive dynamics, cat-and-mouse tension; pet names (sweetheart, darling, baby, princess, etc.). making out + (f) cunnilingus + faked orgasm [with minho]. reader dresses feminine/revealing, jealousy themes, mention of jerking off. brat-taming, finger-sucking + fingering. a lot of praising with a hint of degradation, big dick yunho + implied size kink, missionary position, unprotected sex (don't do that), plan b usage, multiple orgasms + orgasm denial, creampie. aftercare + confession + secret relationship.
synopsis﹢your friend minho is everything a girl is supposed to want — handsome, gentle, the kind of boy who is a keeper, a prince straight from a fairy tale. however, stories like that crumble the moment you meet the man who raised him. one smile, and suddenly you’re standing at a crossroads no one prepared you for: one path will drag you to paradise… the other straight into hell. and you already know which one you’re going to take, because some temptations were never meant to be resisted.
word count﹢20k
𝜗⊹ PLAY THE VINYL RECORD .ᐟ
you first meet JEONG YUNHO in the way most dangerous crushes begin, and that is accidentally.
you’re in his living room, together with his son, sitting on the couch surrounded by snacks, bickering over some stupid video game… when the front door opens and he walks in. not just minho’s dad or some middle-aged guy. a man so attractive and stupidly handsome, it absolutely shouldn't be legal to be that hot. and he's not even that ripped or muscular, but you could tell he had a nice body under his somehow tight clothes.
tall enough to make the doorframe look small, shirt sleeves pushed up over forearms, and you could see his hands, how his veins popped out, and why are you looking at his hands? god, stop staring at your friend’s dad. he gives you one polite nod before opening his mouth. that calm, deep voice that hits so low it makes you forget about the alphabet and how to speak.
“didn’t know minho brought his girlfriend home.” you nearly choke on your drink, as you and minho looked at each other, even blushing slightly from the comment before sputtering out, “w-we’re not– ! i mean– no!”
minho groans, pausing the game to fully focus on his parent and his teasing, “dad, she’s just a friend.”
but yunho’s eyes stay on you. curiously observing you, slowly taking in your features, and he must admit that you are more beautiful than in the photos. of course, he knows about you, and you know about him, but you've never officially met. you're just part of his son's friend group, the girl who has more pictures with him than his own family.
he’s reassessing everything he just assumed: that you are minho’s girlfriend. he wouldn't have minded if you were. he knows his son deserves the best; he'll be happy if there's something between you, and there certainly is. he's not the type of guy who'll bring a girl home unless he has feelings for her.
because why would he want to take a girl to study or play games at their place when that can be done outside? yeah, he knows these games and tricks too well.
“you are (name), right? pleased to meet you, young lady. you can call me yunho, drop the honorifics if you want to.”
and the thing is… he notices the way you suddenly straighten your pose. he sees the way your legs shift under his gaze, pressing together as your voice gets just a little smaller around him, nervous and slightly high. it's not about looking more feminine, it's just about making a good impression. catching every tiny nervous habit, starting from the lip-biting, the fidgeting, the way you can’t look directly at him for too long. does he enjoy it? he absolutely does.
one tiny problem though… yunho is twenty years older. a divorced dad, currently single, but so responsible and mature. knows better than to think such things about someone younger, but he can't help it, can he?
the other problem is also that he’s one fine-looking man, and you’ve grown into a gorgeous woman, someone who looks at him like he’s something you shouldn’t touch but desperately want to.
the way you relax around minho and stiffen when he enters the room tells him everything he needs to know. but before you could completely cease to exist, minho stood up and nodded towards the hallway, hinting that it would be better for you to go to his room for some privacy and to... study.
“(name), do you want to start the project now?” and all you did was nod, getting up way too fast and already following your friend from behind. you didn't want to turn around to see his father, because you knew if you did, there would be no turning back.
“have fun, kiddos,” he said, laughing slightly as he saw you enter the room and close the door. then yunho muttered under his breath, very quietly only for himself to hear, “yeah, studying… nice one, son.”
you are in minho’s room now. for the past hour, you've really been sitting down to study, but weren't motivated at all; your mind was somewhere else.
minho is familiar in a way that doesn’t make your pulse spike or your thoughts scramble. he makes stupid jokes, nudges your shoulder, laughs at your expressions and teases you a lot, because you are so cute when you are flustered, he said so. the laughter fades a little as he looks at you for a moment too long, taking you whole with those loving eyes… next thing you know, you are kissing him.
he kisses like someone who’s studying you carefully and respectfully. keeping a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth as if he’s afraid to push too far. he’s sweet, so incredibly gentle because he knows better not to rush or demand too much: a good boy. raised well, caring and devoted with a good heart, even when his lips move hungrily against yours.
you like him, you really do.
but you don’t feel that drop in your gut, that full-body shiver, and the quiet ruin me instinct you feel whenever his father walks into a room, or appears like a genie ready to grant your every wish. the butterflies in your stomach are calm with minho, however, once you are in the presence of mr. jeong, they don't know what to do or where to go.
his mouth is warm against yours, as he murmurs your name, pulling you closer by the waist. kissing you like you’re fragile, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to want more, even though he is very much allowed to. you kiss him back because… why wouldn’t you? he’s kind, handsome, easy to be around, someone you can definitely call more than a friend. anyone would feel lucky to be in his lap, to have his fingers tracing patterns on their hips.
just in the middle of it when his hand slides up your back, breath catching softly, you tug on his shirt… a thought flashes through like lightning, taking a root deep inside your mind, and you wonder…how will his father's lips feel on yours? your stomach twists with guilt, heart thumps against your ribs, ready to burst out, and you’re too aware of how wrong this whole thing is. both morally and emotionally, viscerally even.
minho pulls away for air, smiling breathlessly at you, because you are the first girl who makes him feel like this. there are no words to describe it, you are just incredible. of course, he has kissed before, but never like this, with such real emotion that even he feels the butterflies flutter. “(name)...” he pants softly, cheeks flushed. “why did we never do this before?”
because you weren’t sure if you wanted to cross that line. and now every time you look at him…you see yunho. you didn't want to think about how he looked more like his father,, because usually the sons take after their mothers. they were literally like twins, only minho was a little taller, but had absolutely the same features as his father, including his mother's smile, of course, her features could be seen too.
you try to answer, only for your brain to betray you. spinning images of a deeper voice, a steadier grip, a man who looks at you like you’re trouble he wants to handle alone without anyone else interfering. minho misreads your silence as shyness and chuckles, brushing your hair behind your ear. “are you okay? if you want to slow down… i’m sorry if that made you uncomfort–” a soft knock on the door cuts him off, making both of your heads turn at the sound.
“minho?” your entire body freezes the moment you hear him. that deep voice that made your eyes widen, and it wasn't because you were worried he would see you like that; he just had such a beautiful voice. a naturally medium-low tone, there’s a little bit of rasp when he speaks more casually, just enough to make him more charming.
and your friend’s eyes widen just like yours as he whispers, “shit– don’t move, okay? he’s gonna think, just– hold on.” he scrambles off the bed, not before gently making you hop off his lap. hair messed up, shirt slightly rumpled, trying to compose himself quickly. while you’re still breathless with swollen lips, and heart racing for all the wrong reasons.
minho opens the door just a crack, so he can take a peek with part of his head and not let his father see what is going on. mr. jeong is standing there in his coat, broad shoulders taking the spotlight, and so is his slightly longer black hair. gosh, wouldn't it be so nice to run your fingers through his soft locks while he goes down on you?
one hand in his pocket, probably checking for his wallet and keys, his eyes flicking to minho, then past him, landing on you. sitting pretty on the edge of the bed, with a flushed face and uneven breathing like you just walked straight into a hurricane, trying so hard not to look like someone who was just pinned under his son.
yunho’s pushes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, very subtle, almost in secret, hiding the annoyance of catching you like that. he wasn't ashamed that he caught you on the spot: he knew very well what you were doing or were going to do. he just couldn't help but interrupt the fun. excuse him, he had to go out, and warn minho that he might stay late with his friends, or as they are known, his uncles.
“everything alright?” he asks calmly, perfectly masking the emotion he really feels. during his marriage to the first and only woman in his life, minho's mother — kim minsoo, even up until the divorce and after, he learned to control his emotions and the facial expressions he showed. sometimes it was a big plus, especially in situations like these, where he had to take on the role of the cool and super chill dad.
“yeah! yeah, we were just… talking.” minho laughs awkwardly, not letting the door open anymore because, well, it's embarrassing to suddenly have your dad knock on your door while you're doing things with your girl friend... or future girlfriend. the young man still wants to wait and test the waters because he doesn't want to force you to do anything you don’t want to.
the older man just hums, a sound low enough to curl inside your stomach, a vibration so sensational that you need no ultrasound or x-ray to know that something is really wrong with you. he looks at minho again, who tries his absolute best to make his dad go away as fast as possible, but he paid his son no mind, instead he gazed past him right at you again.
“excuse me, min,” apologising, as if he was really sincere about something he didn't want to happen and witness in his house...now that he thought about it, did you do anything else in the moments when he was not here? mmm, small chance, if something had happened, minho would immediately be fluttering with joy that, in fact, he has a girlfriend. these are thoughts for later, although it didn't take long to put two and two together. “didn’t want to interrupt your little study session.”
he talked with his mouth to his son, but for you, he used his eyes, which told you: i saw everything, and i know exactly what you’d prefer. yunho lingers in the doorway longer than he should, enough for you to feel his gaze slide over you like a lion ready to strike at the confused and innocent antelope, that sadly can run too fast. albeit you can never outrun and outsmart a predator, someone with too much experience and tricks up his sleeves isn’t going to back down until he has his prey between his claws and teeth.
then he finally says, sensing how it was going to be too quiet to save his or son’s ass from further embarrassment, “i’m heading out for a bit. there’s food in the fridge. if you need anything else, minho’s got money.” he emphasised the word you, considering you in the equation because after all you were a guest, and shouldn’t be left unsatisfied if you have any cravings.
“dad, it’s alright. don’t worry about it,” minho reassures him, voice getting a little annoyed by how his parent isn’t planning to leave anytime soon. that's why he doesn't like to take anyone to his dad’s place. of course, he has his own apartment, but some of the rooms are currently being renovated, and he can’t stay there.
still yunho isn’t looking at him, not even a little, as his eyes focus on you for what he can count as five seconds, before minho closes the door, saying bye. hearing the lock clicking on the front door, you and he can breathe at peace now. “sorry…” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “he’s like that sometimes, really means no harm.”
he is like what? possessive over someone he just met.
“it’s okay… it happens to everyone that a parent interrupts something at a not-so-right moment,” you mumble some vague agreement, but your thoughts are nowhere near minho’s dad’s intensity. they’re stuck on the way he looked at you just now, eyes that held love or lust, maybe both. you are too scared to analyse his motives and demeanour, like he already knew what you both were about to do.
minho doesn’t give you much time to think about it. his hand cups your face, and he kisses you again. deeper this time, a little desperate, relieved to have the house to himself. making you lie flat on your back on his soft mattress, lips never leaving yours, the soft tug of his fingers guiding you to relax and just enjoy the moment. you’re already breathless by the time his mouth trails along your throat, warm and wet, big hands sliding under your clothes to squeeze your skin. he knows you, knows what you like, especially when the little sounds you make when he touches you just right.
tilting your head back, eyes fluttering shut, letting him take you in a way he’s learned to. but even in the heat of it, when minho pulls you closer underneath him, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers your name…there’s a ghost of another touch in your mind.
a man twenty years older, who had looked at you with something dangerously close to claiming you with only a few words, letting his eyes do most of the talking.
you shouldn’t think about him, not while minho is all over you, pulling soft moans and gasps from you, making you feel so damn good with his slender hands and slim fingers, a mouth and a mind that worships you — but in the end, you do what you shouldn’t.
wondering, if minho can make you fall apart like this… what would yunho feel like? how strong would his hands be on your hips? how different would his mouth sound when he says your name? how will he feel?
shivering and arching your back slightly, from thinking about yunho when his son goes down on you. guilt instead of pleasure, and he groans softly, spreading your legs and positioning himself between them. “you’re just… perfect,” he whispers against your skin, completely unaware that your heartbeat is racing for an entirely different reason, or that you are imagining someone else instead.
your chest is still rising and falling, even if you are excellent at acting, masking discomfort or lack of arousal, you do try to come with mimicking sounds, breathing patterns, and find physical cues. you are faking your orgasm. it’s not manipulation; not everyone has strong physical contractions before orgasming.
it’s to avoid pressure, to end a session that isn’t working, or because you feel self-conscious about how long it’s taking for him to make you cum with his tongue. yes, he is skilled, incredible even. if it were any other girl, she would probably want more and more, but... why are you like this? it's disgusting how in such a short time your brain, no, you yourself, decided to switch from minho to yunho. your world was spinning, and it wasn't because of the man between your legs, but because of the man who was consuming your every thought.
and what it would be like if he were the one to make you see stars instead.
dinner at the jeong household is usually lively, no matter what time they eat. in fact sometimes, when the dad is out with his friends and doesn't stay up that late, he always stops by his son's favorite dining place to buy food. both men have a lot to talk about, whether it was for work or university, there was always something to say or discuss. but tonight, there’s a tension under the surface that only one of them recognises. that feeling of wanting to brag about something you've done, especially with such a beautiful girl…
minho is eating happily, humming under his breath, still flushed from earlier and too lost in his thoughts to realise he looks like someone freshly and blissfully wrecked. and he didn't blush because the food was warm or slightly spicy, merely because he was still thinking about you. seeing and imagining you in a different light now, in a different pose, like a muse. beautiful inspiration, putting some kind of spell because he's simply fascinated by you.
yunho notices everything, from the way his son’s lips tug upwards out of nowhere when eating his noodles, to not responding immediately when asked a question, since there was a delayed reaction of several seconds. lowering his chopsticks down slowly, asking casually:
“why didn’t she stay for dinner?”
minho shakes his head, snapping out of his daze. “she had other plans tonight with her friends. i drove her there to make sure she arrived safely.”
the older man just let out a hum, a soft and thoughtful sound, too neutral to be neutral. because he raised his son well when it came to manners and being a gentleman, he doesn’t look up right away at the youngster as he takes another bite. instead, he chews and swallows, ready to ask yet another question like the good parent he is.
“so,” he says lightly, wondering if he should eat the kimchi or the tteokbokki, “you and her… spending more time together lately?”
the question itself is subtle, perfectly phrased to sound like normal fatherly interest, when it isn’t. it’s calculated and measured, designed to coax exactly what he wants out of minho. and minho, bless his sweet heart, falls right into it. he blushes as his face turns strawberry red; even his ears turn red, rubbing the back of his neck, and he smiles like an idiot in love.
“uh… yeah,” he admits sheepishly. “we are a lot more, actually.”
yunho lifts his gaze to take a good look at his son. his expression is perfect, soft and supportive, that of a proud father who just wants to know if his kid is doing alright; it's completely normal to be concerned, especially if a woman appears in his life. his eyes are sharp, watching minho’s every micro-expression, analysing and assessing.
“happy to hear that, min,” he remarks with a warm smile, and minho brightens immediately at his father’s approval, “she seems like a wonderful girl.”
“i know, right? she is just amazing… honestly, i wish i had met her sooner.”
the older nods, leaning back in his chair as he crosses his arms. “so tell me more,” he urges, not demanding his son to spill everything, “what is it you like most about her?” he phrases it like curiosity, but it sounds like a coiled interest he’s trying very hard to restrain.
“oh man– where do i even start? she’s funny, dad. like… stupidly funny. i don't want to mention that she is extremely beautiful because that is a thing on its own. and she gets me, y’know? not a lot of people do.”
“i see,” he murmurs. “she must mean a lot to you, then.”
“yeah,” minho says softly, still with that lovesick expression on his face, “she does.”
“and she’s… comfortable here, i assume?” too casual and carefully disguised as fatherly caring.
“oh, totally,” minho states without thinking twice. “not the first time she has been over, actually. if we don’t count the time when we, changmin, hyunwoo and sarang used the place to get our mid-term project done. remember when you and uncle san went on that business trip so you could take photos in namhae? it was then that she said that your apartment feels like a second home.”
yunho’s fingers tighten around his arm, just enough to betray a crack in his composure. so that's how it was, using the place while he was gone. but you were certainly in the presence of other people to do other things, it seems. yunho why are you getting irked.. as if you didn't do the same two decades ago?
“did she now?”
minho doesn’t notice the way his father’s eyes let go of that sparkle and wonder, as he keeps rambling so eagerly and proudly.
“she keeps telling me you’re ‘intimidating but in a good way.’ like… in a comforting way, i guess? i dunno, i think she respects you a lot, just like everybody else.”
respect, huh? yunho’s lips curl, almost mockingly. if only minho knew the look you gave him earlier…respect wasn’t the word.
“hmm,” the father hums once again, lowering his gaze to look at the food and hiding the fact that, as much as he loved his son, he wanted to laugh at how naive he was sometimes. don’t get him wrong, okay? it's just that if he’s going to do something with someone, and that something includes the word romance, then try not to include the word delusion in the mix. “that’s good. glad to hear you have good people around you.”
minho beams, finally taking another bite of his rice, because he didn’t want to talk anymore. yunho watches him and thinks about you, flushed and breathless on the edge of minho’s bed. how your eyes were darting toward him earlier when you first saw each other. about how you avoided his gaze…and how your body reacted anyway. he doesn’t let any of that touch his expression, and just simply says, with that same certainty of someone who has already decided their goal and how to achieve it.
“you should invite her more often then.”
“really?”
yunho nods slowly to totally convince his son that it's okay with him to that the two of you see each other, and that he approves of you. it's okay that his son is currently considered a competition, but you know what they say — keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
“yes, i’d like to get to know her better,” and he means to know you inside and out.
a week later, you are outside the jeongs’ apartment again, and a tiny part of you wishes you hadn’t come at all. you can already feel his presence even if you don’t know if he is home because minho hasn’t told you, and you hope he doesn’t jumpscare you like some ghost or a monster ready to feast upon yet another scared soul.
you knock politely, the door swings open, and there he is. the seven deadly sins reincarnated in a human body with a mind of its own. relaxed and all casual, wearing a simple black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, hair slightly mussed like he just woke from a nap. unfair to look that good, seriously, what is wrong with him…no, what is wrong with you? stop looking at him like he's a piece of meat, and even worse, because your eyes didn't know where to focus. on his face, his hands, or the fact that, damn it, he's wearing grey sweatpants.
stop staring at his face, stop staring at his throat, at the outline of his d— okay, stop staring entirely.
“ah,” he says with that low, warm voice, covering his mouth with his hand when a yawn escaped. so you woke him up from his nap, great, just great. “you’re back.”
bowing your head slightly to show respect, hiding every thought he shouldn’t know you’re having. it's only two in the afternoon, there's no need to start the torture so early, but alas, you walked alone and fell into the trap.
“good afternoon, mister jeong.” he lifts a brow. did you sound rude? stiff? awkward? you have zero idea what tone came out of your mouth ten seconds ago, and now it’s too late to crawl into the ground. why the hell are you so stressed? it's just minho's father, you shouldn't be scared, or worried so much about what he thinks of you. because you actually don't know what he thinks, maybe you don’t want to know…or do you? so many questions are running in your head that you don’t hear him speaking.
“i told you, sweetheart,” he says quietly, stepping aside to let you in, almost not wanting to make a remark to you or sound threatening; that's not his goal. he just wants you to feel comfortable, after all, you said this is like your second home, “you can call me yunho.”
you swallow after hearing the nickname. it’s not that no one calls you by pet names or cute little nicknames, like the old lady in the supermarket, but it sounds so different coming from his mouth. “right… yunho.” his name sounds forced on your tongue, or maybe foreign, not used to calling your friends’ parents by their name, and he notices the way you were a little hesitant to do so.
minho appears behind him, cheerful and oblivious, grabbing your bag and dragging you toward the living room, rambling about the project you came for. but yunho’s eyes stay glued to you until you turn the corner in the hallway, watching you walk away like he’s memorising every step you take in his home, or should he say luring trap. there's a lot of work to do, and it's not just the chores.
now you’re sitting on the couch with your laptop open, waiting for minho to return from his room to get the books with the needed information. after you have been working for a few hours, you start to feel that subtle awareness crawling up your spine. you felt like spiderman with your spidey senses being activated the moment you sensed some kind of a warning threat.
yunho walks into the living room, a mug of coffee in hand. he doesn’t announce himself, doesn’t need to; it’s his home, he can go whenever he wants. but you still needed a place to study, so he didn’t come into the room so as not to disturb you. he would mostly sit in the kitchen or his room, reading something or dealing with his photography work.
he sits in the armchair across from you, angled just enough that his knees point toward you, not the tv. completely resting, enjoying the peace and quiet that you brought when you visited. “working hard?” he asks, sipping from his drink.
“trying to.” you nod, too focused on looking at your screen to find the perfect images for the presentation. his gaze drifts from your laptop to your fingers resting on the keyboard, and to your exposed collarbone. a nice outfit, he thinks, a skirt with tights and a crop top, it's not something scandalous or revealing, but it leaves a little to his imagination.
“minho tends to slack when he’s comfortable,” he murmurs before pausing because that made you take a look at him. “and you make him very comfortable.”
“is that your way of saying i’m a bad influence?”
“no, if anything… you’re very good for him.” he chuckles, shaking his head at your question, maybe even an accusation, it seems it is. even so, he’s staring at you in a way that doesn't match his words.
“then why do you look like you don’t want me here?”
heat starting to sweep across his features before he masks it again. “don’t mistake restraint for dislike. you’re plenty welcome here, anytime and any day.”
your pulse speeds up because you don't know what to say in return. do you say thank you, next or just pretend that you are not clicking random apps on your laptop so you seem occupied. there’s a long silence before he adds again:
“though i do wonder… why you seem nervous around me?”
"i'm not nervous.” you try to sound indifferent, bored even, but he smirks at the way you play hard to get. a ghost of a smile that makes your stomach twist.
“no?” he leans back in the chair, like settling in for a show. stretching out, spreading his long legs casually in a way that’s anything but that. “then why won’t you look me in the eyes?”
you force your gaze up to meet his, and immediately regret it. his eyes pin you in place, like he’s reading you, memorising every twitch and breath you couldn’t take, undoing you without even touching you. he studies you openly, like he has every right, and even if you didn’t want to let him do that, you still did.
“what do you think about,” he murmurs, a tone and intonation so teasing that the red lamp in your brain can't stop malfunctioning. “when i walk into a room?”
your mind goes blank. you blink at him, stunned that he’d actually say something like that out loud. you can’t answer that; he knows you can’t. he leans forward, setting his mug on the small glass table with a quiet clink, elbows rest against his knees, pulling him closer even if he is not directly next to you. voice dropping so low it feels like a warm breath dragging across your skin, edging and torturing you to finally crack.
“because i know,” he says, eyes fixed on your mouth before lifting to your eyes again, “it isn’t the same thing you think about when minho walks in.”
your heart is going to burst at any given second from panic and shock. you open your mouth to say something, defend yourself in some sort, but footsteps echo down the hall. yunho stands immediately, mask sliding into place so seamlessly it makes you dizzy. minho walks back in, smiling while holding a bunch of text and notebooks in his hands.
“sorry, it took a long time to find it! i— oh, hey dad.”
yunho smiles, the perfect father again. the transformation makes him look like a completely different man. “i was just keeping her company,” he says jokingly alas, you know it’s no joke. “don’t keep her waiting, or someone might steal her away.”
you choke on absolutely nothing when minho plops onto the couch beside you, totally oblivious. but as yunho walks past, he pauses behind you, waiting for minho to get up again, even if it's just for a few seconds to be distracted, enough for you to hear the quiet, subtle whisper he hides behind a sip of coffee:
“when my son isn’t home…” you froze, you couldn't move from the tension. “…you’ll ask me what you really want.” then he walks out of the room like nothing had happened, and you’re trying your very best not to pack your things and leave, not caring if you get a bad grade on this stupid project.
god, it’s starting to feel dangerous, like you started a game where you don't know how to play or what the rules are. and worse, you don’t know if you want to save yourself anymore, or just wait until you reach the next level. there must be better rewards there, right? no matter how tough the challenges along the way will be, and regardless of the fact that the mastermind behind the game you started was yunho himself.
you worked all day, and by the time the project is wrapped up, it turned night. you’re packing your things when lightning cracks across the sky, and raindrops drop down the glass so hard it looks like the house is underwater. the storm rolls in like it was waiting for the exact moment you shouldn’t leave. minho looks out, frowns, then turns to you with that worried look on his pretty face, like a cute little puppy ready to protect his owner. “no way i’m letting you go out in that weather,” he urges, already getting up to make his position clear. “stay for the night, dad won’t mind.”
you hesitate, because you didn't want to stay, and it's not that he couldn't drive you to your place, but taking the risk and driving in weather like this was a suicide mission. trying to open your mouth to protest, you’re suddenly standing in the bathroom with an oversized shirt and some pants in your hands.
minho’s shirt still smells freshly laundered, maybe not even worn for a long time, but you pull it on anyway, because you have no other choice since you didn’t expect to have a sleepover at the predator’s den.
a few minutes later, when you were ready and changed into your “pajamas”, you find yourself walking toward the guest room minho set up for you. fingers tugging the hem of the shirt, considering it’s too big, falling mid-thigh, sleeves swallowing your hands, when you nearly run into him. standing by the door of the living room, turning off lights, but he freezes the second he sees you.
completely still, like the storm outside has nothing on the one in his heart. his gaze drops slowly, taking in your bare legs, the oversized shirt, the way it hangs off your shoulder just a little. he couldn't understand how someone could look so good in such ordinary clothes. did you know that this t-shirt was his? probably not, since he had given it to his son a long time ago as a gift. it wasn't even that special; the design that minho thought was cool was almost worn out, but it’s still sentimental to this day.
“you look…” yunho starts, then stops, brown eyes never leaving the sight of your figure, and how domestic this all feels. “…comfortable.” shrugging your shoulders, giving him that smile, the one he’s already learned to read too well. you step closer, until you’re close enough to feel the warmth of his body, the scent of the strong perfume on his skin.
“do you mind that i’m staying here?” you tilt your head, letting your voice dip just a little, making you sound so innocent, and nice, almost sorry for trashing his home and privacy. his inhale isn’t loud, but you hear it, and for a split second, you're the one who leaves him speechless. he looks at you like he could devour the question right out of your mouth, or devour you if you keep that little act going on.
“mind?” his voice is a rough whisper now. if anything, he should be thankful that it's raining dogs and cats outside because you don’t get such a view and entertainment for free. “of course not, my dear.” he takes one slow step toward you, and your back is against the wall, his long arms caging you in, crowding your space without touching you, his eyes skimming your lips before snapping back to your eyes.
“but you should be careful with that smile.” you blink up at him, pretending not to know exactly what he means, still with that defiant smile on your beautiful face. so far, so fake, he thinks. you're a good actress around minho, but not with him. he's already read the script, knowing what's going to happen, but it's up to you whether or not there's a culmination point, or the end is what you truly want.
“why?”
“because,” he’s murmuring, his breath brushing your cheek as he leans in just enough that the gap between you becomes something intimate. his gaze is lingering on your mouth, those sweet lips that will probably taste like honey, then going back to stare into your eyes with that determination of someone you shouldn't mess with, “you don’t look innocent in my clothes.”
the way he said it gave you literal chills, because it's his t-shirt? and he only smirked when a flash of lightning illuminated the hallway, and he stepped back at the last second, enjoying your reaction, your willingness to resist your needs.
as minho calls your name, yunho’s eyes flick to the cotton tee one more time as his expression resets instantly, to that calm and fatherly energy. as if he wasn't ready to kiss you here and now, while his son wasn't in his room or wherever. this is going to sound cruel, even insensitive, but in this play, minho is just a pawn, a secondary character who contributed to nothing but his own doom.
“you should get some rest, big day of studying tomorrow,” just before he turns away to go to his room, he adds so quietly you almost think you imagined it. “…sweet dreams, sweetheart.”
you don’t know if it’s a promise disguised as politeness, or a boundary disguised as permission. maybe it’s a line that he has now placed directly at your feet, waiting to see if you’ll step over it… but what you didn't know was that you were almost at the finish line.
you can't sleep, can't even relax with all the tossing and turning, trying to doze off for a little while, but you really can’t. you just opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling, breathing a little heavy because you were angry about something, irritated, perhaps a little disappointed. running a hand over your face, which smoothly flowed down your body, over the t-shirt until it reached your shorts, and you pressed your legs together, rubbing them.
what a sinner you are, and what a temptation he is.
it wasn't that you couldn't satisfy yourself, even though you weren't really in the mood for it, but the hormones inside you wouldn't stop raging. and it would be a bit impudent to do something like that in someone else's home, because how will you explain why the sheets are stained? yeah, you won't take any chances. maybe you'll just get up to drink some water, or even splash a bit on your face to wash those filthy thoughts away.
thunder rolls somewhere in the distance, softer now, which means the storm is starting to pass. you expect the kitchen to be dark, for you to be alone, maybe steal something sweet from the fridge, except someone had already occupied the place before you.
the air in the kitchen smells like rain and…smoke? it’s definitely cigarette smoke, even though the window is still cracked open, the scent lingers filling your nostrils.
you tell yourself that you didn’t just catch a glimpse of yunho’s silhouette framed by moonlight, shoulders broad, one hand resting against the window frame as the other flicked something subtle and glowing out into the dark. a thin ribbon of smoke curls up in front of him, watching him exhale slow and steady into the night like a man hiding a habit he’s not willing to explain. it's kinda hot.
you pretend to be blind and deaf, but the second his voice strikes you, all that pretending snaps like a cheap wire put to mask the real trap ahead. he doesn’t turn around; already knows you’re there the second your foot meets the tile.
“did i wake you up, sweetheart?”
the pet name hits first, then the tone. it’s so soft, polite, you can catch the raspiness of the sleep, which he paused for this. you didn't know he smoked; you’ve been here so much, and you've never seen lighters or cigarette packs before. minho never mentioned it, because he doesn’t smoke. you’ve never smelled it in his car, his clothes, anywhere, until now.
you freeze halfway to the sink, about to quietly back away and mind your business, pretend you saw nothing. he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray that sat on the balcony ledge, hidden from no one and appearing out of nowhere, closing the window in the process.
“i’m sorry if the squeaking door woke you,” he adds, footsteps approaching at a lazy, unhurried pace, but you heard him sit down on one of the chairs at the table because the wood scratched the floor slightly. “it drives minho crazy, but he’s used to it by now.”
no door squeaked; you heard absolutely nothing.
instead you took a cup, ready to fill it, but you swallow your spit so painfully hard, gripping the glass a little tighter. “ah, no… i just got thirsty, mr. jeong.” he doesn’t answer immediately, and you can feel him right behind you now, even if he is sitting two meters away. you lift the glass to the faucet, letting the water run to cover the sound of your breathing.
a quiet hum coming from him, “mr. jeong,” he repeats, slower this time, tasting the words as they amuse him. “you don’t need to be that formal with me. didn’t i tell you to call me yunho?”
your fingers tense around the glass, still, you don’t turn. you know yourself too well. if you look at him like this in the middle of the night, voice dropping low, smoke still ghosting his breath, you won’t be able to hide anything.
“yes, right i um–,” you mumble. “sorry, still getting used to it.”
“don’t be,” chuckling at your behaviour, and you can imagine the smirk on his face even if you don’t see it. “it’s cute.”
the faucet shuts off; you realise you turned it off without thinking. hand trembled slightly, you were trying to breathe normally, not as if you were about to be given a death sentence. bringing the glass to your lips, you still don’t turn around. you wanted to say something, to break this silence that wasn't awkward at all, but quite heated.
“do you always smoke?” you ask, deflecting, merely testing while poking the beast with a stick. he notices, and he loves it. you are so sweet and gorgeous, he would really eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner if he could, or if there was no one else in the apartment. and you are even cuter when you pretend that you don't want it either.
“to be fair, no,” noting smoothly, playing with his fingers, but his eyes were digging holes in your back. “just on nights when i’m… restless.” you can’t tell if that was meant to sound suggestive or if you’re just hearing everything through a filter of tension.
“so, you and minho are getting along well?”
you blink at your water, throat suddenly dry even if you took a big sip, “of course… we care about each other.”
yunho leans forward, elbows on the table, and the faint kitchen light makes him look every bit the man minho might grow into one day, but never quite match.
“you’re close with my son, and i’m glad for that. he looks happy around you, and that tells me a lot about you.”
it sounds genuine, and surprisingly, it is. of course, aside from the dirty thoughts about you, and the fact that you're the same age as the young man who sleeps peacefully and deeply in his room. one thing yunho is grateful for is that when his son falls asleep, he becomes like a bear in hibernation.
“like what?”
the older man just smiles at your rhetorical question, because truthfully, what does he know about you? oh well, maybe the fact that minho hasn't stopped talking about you in the last two months since he's been here until the renovations are finished. the important question here is, what does he not know? and you'll be surprised how little he doesn't know about you.
“that you give your attention very generously…” his gaze flicks down your body and back up, subtly biting his lower lip. the way he looked at you… shame on you, not knowing what you're missing in your attempts to swallow your ego and the fact that you're such a good girl. “…but only to the ones who’ve earned it.”
“and you think you’ve earned it?” you fire back, a little provocative and teasing, but be careful what you say, and how you say it, because yunho is a person who remembers. he can always use your words against you, and you don't want to see that side of him so early.
“no, darling...perhaps not yet.” he chuckles, truly smitten by you, and you're nothing like his ex-wife. even though in some ways, minsoo was like that when she was young, but she didn't pull any tricks — showed him right away that she wanted him. but back then, it was different; there weren't such taboo things like the age difference, or the fact that the father liked his son's girl friend. and you and minho aren't together yet, so to some degree, even secretly, he can afford to do such things. “but i know how to, so don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing.”
the glass nearly slips from your fingers, and you are still with your back to him, and you know it’s rude for you to stay like that, but you are not ready to give in yet. because if he knows how to gain your attention, let him work for it. the fact that you have some kind of attraction to him doesn't mean anything right now, because nothing but secret conversations and glances have happened so far.
and your problem is that you like to see how much redder the flag can get. even if he's going to sleep right now, leaving you to ponder alone about how you got into such a mess in the first place.
for the past three months, your attitude has changed. yunho notices how you dress a little nicer when you know he might be home. a short skirt or a dress, depending on the weather outside. sometimes it’s something soft and feminine, sometimes tight enough that it hugs every line of your body like you’re offering it to someone. minho thinks it’s for him, and of course, he does, with all the smiles and red cheeks while complimenting you shyly.
but yunho knows better; he knows who you’re actually dressing up for.
you avoid calling him by his name, because it sounds too domestic to just leave your lips, even if he tells you there's nothing to worry about, he won't eat you... or at least the plan is not to, as of now.
“there’s nothing to be afraid of,” he tells you. “i don’t bite.” it’s a lie, because he absolutely would, and you both know it.
you still remember the incident when you caught him smoking, and it left a core memory in your mind. hair messy, shirt slipping off his shoulder, cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers, you thought you’d forgotten how to breathe. the moment you went home the next morning and used every toy you owned, pathetic and angry, crying into your pillow because it wasn’t him. trying to chase something that didn't felt even half as good as the fantasy you kept in your head. your body already chose him before your mind could catch up. you felt sorry for yourself, thinking that sleeping with someone's father was going to be so hard, but at the same time so easy.
you get turned on just by hearing his voice. when yunho cooks dinner in front of you and minho, it’s torture. the way he dices vegetables with those big hands… hands that could do much, much worse things. the low hum in his chest when he tastes something he’s made. the soft grin he gives you whenever minho isn’t looking. god, even the way he explains photography to you is sinful. he stands behind you, chest brushing your back, hand covering yours as he adjusts the lens. teaching you how to properly hold it so your photos come out better and more professional.
“not like that, sweetheart. watch my fingers,” and you do watch too closely, because you wonder how his fingers will feel somewhere else.
and speaking of the camera — the photoshoot minho begged him to lend his camera for, the photos you immediately posted on instagram? your friend forgot to delete the ones that were a little too suggestive, the ones where your shirt slipped, where your lips looked parted and kiss-bitten.
good thing he didn't, otherwise how else would yunho have spent half the night jerking off quietly in his room, hand over his mouth, replaying those photos of you on the big computer screen? fuck, you look so hot at this specific angle and the pose you did… shit, shit, shit, he was about to come, imagining it was your hand not his, or maybe your mouth sucking him off, better one, milking him dry with your pretty cunt. he came with your name in his mouth.
and in between all that, there were moments, secret and filthy things that minho never noticed.
like when you are in a cramped spot, and yunho’s hands find your waist. gentle and guiding, fingers tightening just slightly as he moves you aside, squeezing your hip, his thumb dragging lower than necessary. and he always leans in just enough for you to feel the bulge in his pants, to whisper filth against your ear.
“keep wearing skirts like that, and i won’t be able to behave.”
you pretend to be annoyed, rolling your eyes, scoffing, pretending he means nothing. but you never move away, or push him off. he’s the golden-retriever type — loyal, friendly, a mood-maker. just like the dog, he is not suited to be left alone for long periods after getting attached. they follow and wait by the door when they’ve chosen someone.
sometimes you walk past each other in the hallway, and he presses a palm against the small of your back, fingers lingering with a warm touch. “move, darling,” he murmurs behind you, thinking that one day you’re going to beg him to keep his hand right here.
not ready to give in yet? why not drop the act and admit you’re practically offering yourself at him?
like you don’t lean back into his touch, as if you don’t crave more. if he is a dog, then you’re the cat pretending not to care. brushing past him, all attitude and sharp claws, acting indifferent while your tail curls around his leg.
the push-and-pull between you lasts weeks, months even. he is playing the long game, and so are you. even with minho getting closer, subtly asking you out, you never give him a real answer. you never give him a chance to become your boyfriend.
yunho praises you for that, applauds you for how convincingly you act around minho, and how you dodge every attempt the boy makes to define what you two are.
“smart girl,” he whispers one night at your nth visit, cigarette again between his lips as you sit prettily on that chair and observe him, while enjoying his company more than you should, “don’t let him have what isn’t his.”
minho isn’t pressuring you; he’s taking it slow, seeing you in a soft romantic light. he blushes when you touch him, gets shy when you praise him. he dreams of you in the way boys your age do, even if you don't believe that someone could be such a romantic. you feel stupid because he deserves someone else and not you.
yunho dreams of you in every way a man shouldn’t dream of someone his son brings home.
and then there was that night. you and minho got drunk with friends and called yunho to pick you up. you were so wasted, clinging to his arm, as you slid into the passenger seat.
“thank you, minho’s daddy…” you sang softly, hiccuping and just being overly nice and clingy. minho didn’t react because he was too drunk and lost in his own world to process your behavior. poor boy was on cloud 9, had to lie down in the backseat, and try not to spill everything he chugged and ate.
the older, however, nearly crashed the car. because when he carried you inside his apartment, you were all giggles and sleepy smiles. top sliding down, your breasts nearly spilling out, as your skirt rode up to reveal delicate lingerie, no, not panties. lingerie, as in sheer lace and pretty little bows. is that victoria’s secret? you came prepared, didn't you?
you slept on the couch that night, and yunho didn’t sleep at all when he helped minho get into his own bed. he stayed awake, watching your chest rise and fall, fighting every urge in his body, gripping the couch so hard he left crescent-shaped marks on the leather.
tucking a blanket over you, he tried not to look, but failed. you were just so... beautiful, calm in his presence for once, even with your eyes closed and your body relaxed. he steps back first, because he is good and disciplined, a man who sees straight through you. it’s enough to make your knees weak and pussy throb.
the way he looks at you…like he wants to bend you over right here and then, like it’s taking effort not to, as if the only thing holding him back is the thin thread of responsibility. you’ve spent months teasing him, tempting him, brushing your foot against the fire, but never stepping into the flame, and honestly, he had enough.
because one weekend of you sleeping over again, you get too bold when minho leaves with a cheerful, “i’ll be back in fifteen minutes!” as he goes to the store to grab snacks and your favorite drink for tonight’s movie night. you wave sweetly, watch the door shut, and listen to the lock click.
you shouldn’t be alone with yunho dressed like this, but that’s the entire point. sitting on the arm of the couch instead of the cushion, and he sits in the armchair at the other end. maybe you like knowing he’s trying so hard to keep himself in check, that he’s practically can’t hold it for longer when you wear shorts so tiny they barely qualify as fabric, that it’s basically an invitation. you don’t look at him at first, that would be too obvious. instead, you adjust your tank top, tugging the strap just to let it snap back against your skin.
he knows you want attention, that’s what brats do — they poke, push boundaries just to see the other party react in any way, harmless or not. except the way you poke him is by sliding your tongue over your teeth, slowly, then smiling sensually, challenging him.
that’s when he looks up. his tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek, that signature move that always means one thing: he is not annoyed or flustered…he’s mad. a muscle in his jaw twitches as he stands there, pretending he’s unaffected. you can tell he’s not with the way his gaze drags over your bare legs, the soft inhale he takes, the way his fingers tighten on his phone. he’s holding onto the last thread of self-control he has.
you did it. you made him look, feeling so proud and reckless as you stand there like you’re the one in control… but you aren’t, never were.
“you’re awfully confident today.” you can hear it in his voice that he's fed up, but you shrug one shoulder, pretending you haven’t been waiting all week for a moment alone with him. you can't be here every day, even if you wanted to, but there was one problem, and it would be back in fifteen minutes. oh, what a villain you are. you play the role of the little mermaid, charming the prince minho is, but in reality, you are a siren, luring a pirate like yunho deep into the sea of unholiness.
“maybe i just feel comfortable enough.” another lie spills past your lips, and you know he knows. no one in their right mind will dress like that when in the presence of someone's parents, or would talk and act as if they’ve never seen a man in their lives.
“funny,” he points out, watching you, and you like it, “because you only dress like that when he’s gone.”
“coincidence, no?” you raise your eyebrows, an innocent expression that hides every dirty little thought you've had so far. you shouldn’t be smug, but you are. angling your legs a little more, showing off what he could give you, a bigger reaction, you are not satisfied yet. then your stupid mouth moves before your brain can catch up. “or maybe…” you lean forward, smirking, “you’re imagining it.”
that’s the moment you push too far. the subtle change in his face, the way his eyebrows furrow, giving you that mocking i dare you look, or how his chest rises with a slow inhale when he sets his phone down.
“say that again,” and there’s nothing sweet about the way he says it. oh. you didn’t expect him to actually call out your bluff. blinking up at him, lashes fluttering like you’re clueless, pretending you don’t feel the heat between your legs.
“hm? i didn’t say anything.”
he doesn’t smile or play along. that’s the stupid thing about you: keep tugging on the monster’s tail because you like hearing it growl. because the little game you thought you were playing? he never participated.
“sweetheart,” voice dropping, turning into something that hits your spine like a shiver. he isn’t asking. he’s demanding. “don’t make me ask twice.”
rolling your eyes because you’re a brat before anything else. your smirk almost slips, but you’re too stubborn to back down, wrapped up in your own fantasy of control. you never had the upper hand. that the little game you thought you were playing wasn’t a game to him at all. the joker you thought you could play with was never in your hand, it was in his.
and now you’ve cornered yourself with your own arrogance, alone with a man who looks at you like he’s two seconds away from teaching you exactly what happens to brats who forget their place, because you’re his to deal with. unfortunately fifteen minutes would not be enough for that.
you just need one more final push before you finally end up in his bed.
you barely finish saying hi before you realise you shouldn’t have come alone, or when minho isn’t here. yunho stands in the doorway, as if he were specifically waiting for the second you’d show up, and it was giving you the chills. you're back to square one again, because that security you had, even the advantage that he couldn't do anything to you in the presence of another person, was instantly gone.
“come on in,” he says, voice already so kind, but at the same time so secretive, as if he had more to say but bit his tongue in the process. you step inside as he shuts the door. and when the lock clicks, your breath stops right in your lungs, so hard it almost hurts, making the anxiety rush through every vein and blood cell. his eyes haven’t left you since you walked in, “minho said you forgot something.”
“yeah, just my headphones and textbooks… i’ll be quick–”
“slow down, darling, no need to hurry…” his tone slices through your excuse like a thunderbolt that has already struck more than once, “hey, (name)...you’re shaking, is everything alright?”
you weren’t shaking until now. the man steps closer, the kind of pace that tells you he’s been imagining this far longer than he should. and it was very stupid of him to ask such a question, to call you by such a name, but of course that's jeong yunho. he, whose patience has run thin, he whose emotions and needs are not met and satisfied, but only tested until the glass overflows to the point that it falls to the ground and breaks, with no way back. you will either pick up the pieces or walk on them; it’s completely your choice.
“you keep coming back here,” murmuring, reaching past you for nothing in particular, just to force you to feel the warmth of him at your back. “and every time you do… you look like you want something from me.”
“i don’t–”
“don’t lie to me.”
goosebumps appear on your skin so fast you forget what you came to pick up. for the first time in your life, you were scared and under so much stress, because it happened... you were finally cornered, the troublemaker was finally going to get her punishment. remember, you did it to yourself. you wanted him more than anything, so why do you want to run away now? suddenly you won't be such a brat and provocateur, hmm? you didn't know whether to turn around or wait for him to do something, because you have no visibility; unfortunately, no pair of eyes at the back of your head.
he turns you around, though not fully. you gaze at his big, veiny hand that makes contact with your jaw, his finger under your chin, rotating your head, and the second you look up, meeting his face, you know you’re done for.
“do you know how hard you make it to be a good man?”
he steps in, and the space between your bodies disappears. your lips part, but nothing comes out, not a single sound, as he tightened his grip slightly, holding you tightly, staring into your soul with those chocolate, but so dark eyes of his. they were swallowing you whole, drinking you in slowly, and his index finger touched your lower lip, so soft and tender and slightly moistened.
“you walk in here in that little coat,” he whispers, like confessing sins directly onto your being, finally saying his confessions at the altar, “smelling like my son’s cologne, allowing yourself to do whatever you want, smiling like you don’t know what those little stunts did to me all this time…”
you react exactly the way he expects you to, recklessly, by the way you scoff. you actually dare to scoff at him, mouth curling into that smug bratty grin that always spells trouble. “maybe it’s all in your head,” too confident for your own good. “maybe i’m not doing anything to you at all.”
“careful.” the way his voice is barely contained makes your smile go wider. shrugging like you’re invincible but your free trial has already expired.
“why? you gonna do something about it?”
you shouldn’t have said that. his tongue presses into the inside of his cheek again. simmering expression you’ve seen enough times to know you’re in danger and too turned on to care. it's more fun to watch him struggle than to see him act immediately, and there's no hiding it; you liked seeing him act like that.
“you little brat,” he’s not even angry anymore, just done. “you really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
you open your mouth to bark again, but his fingers tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against him. your words die on your tongue, swallowed by the sudden heat spiralling in your lower stomach.
“yunho…” congratulations on saying his name for the first time without worrying about how it will sound, because it sounds exactly as he imagined it — pathetic and needy. it’s practically an invitation written in blood, sealed with a piece of your soul, smelling of your sweet perfume, and signed only with a print of dark red lipstick.
grabbing your waist with his other hand, fingers digging in, to remind you exactly how much stronger he is. how easily he could lift you, bend you, pin you. despite you being dressed up, not that it will matter what you wear, with the way your knees weaken, clothes are the most irrelevant thing at the moment. and then it hits you, he’s not holding back anymore.
“you shouldn’t have come alone… and if you think i’m letting you walk out untouched after everything you’ve been doing to me. you are so wrong, darling.”
now that he has the chance, he is going to take advantage of being blessed by lady luck with a brat like you. he should teach you some manners, to be careful who you are talking to again. because you keep making the same mistake over and over again: you underestimate him.
he tilts your chin up, and his lips meet yours. it’s the kind of kiss that wipes every thought out of your head except that you need more. it’s not gentle or sweet. it holds the restraint, detonating all at once, so hungry and frustrated. he is such a good kisser, goodness, you gasp in his mouth, and he takes advantage immediately.
tongue pushing deep past your parted lips, swallowing the sound right from your throat. his other hand holds tight to your waist, then slides down, fingers curling around your hip, keeping you pinned in place. you can’t even think of pulling away; he isn’t letting you.
the kiss drags the air from your lungs, because yunho kisses like a man starved, like he’s been holding himself back for months, and the fireworks finally bursts. his tongue sweeps against yours again, forcing you to follow his pace. the dominance is clear as he angles your head just how he wants it.
you melt back against his chest, breath shaking, body softening under the pressure. anxiety fizzles out into something molten and helpless, something that makes your fingers take hold of his shirt just to stay upright. he smiles into the kiss because he feels you are finally giving in. his grip on your hip and chin tightens, as he deepens the kiss even more. lips hot, insistent, consuming you until there’s no space left in your mind for anything but him.
“look at you, desperate for me already,” he growls against your lips, that deep voice sending a full wave of vibrations through your system. “let me ruin you properly…so you stop wondering how i’d feel.”
the kiss doesn’t end so much as it breaks with a thin, trembling line of breath left between your mouths when yunho finally pulls back. just enough that you can see the way his pupils dilate, the way he watches your lips like he’s deciding to bite them now or later.
leaning forward without thinking, chasing him, needing him. he catches your chin with two fingers, stopping you with an infuriating amount of control. “don’t pout,” he says softly, thumb brushing your lower lip. “i’m not going anywhere, just trying not to take you right here.”
your coat slips off your shoulder, and before you can adjust it, his hands are already there, sliding the fabric down your arms. he folds it so neatly and patiently, the exact opposite of how he just kissed you, putting it on the hangers, and then he takes your wrist.
“come here.”
you don’t walk, you follow like a cat, ready for the treat she doesn’t deserve. he leads you down the hallway. slender fingers warm and firm around yours, his steps slow enough that you can feel the anticipation pool between your legs. every time you glance up at him, he meets your eyes like he knows exactly what you’re imagining, exactly how badly you want it.
you barely register entering his bedroom, you only do realise when the backs of your knees touch the mattress, and you fall into a seated position, breath hitching at the sudden shift. yunho stands in front of you. tall figure, broad shoulders, a silhouette of long legs and a wide chest that makes the room feel smaller, even dangerous in a way you’ve been craving for months. your eyes drift down without permission—
those damned grey pants again.
the ones that leave nothing to the imagination, and you know for a fact that you are already wet and oh so turned on. you stare, you shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you do. so far, nothing has stopped you from taking the apple from the garden of eden, and now you will finally taste it.
his low chuckle breaks your trance. “eyes up here, sweetheart.” you snap your gaze upward, too fast, he’s already smirking as if he caught you with your hand in the cookie jar. “you really can’t help yourself, can you?” his knees brush the edge of the bed until he’s towering above you, shadowing your whole body. he tilts your chin up again with a single finger, slow and coaxing, expecting you to look at him and only him.
“i’ll give you what you need,” he promises, as his thumb strokes your cheek, and the gentleness only makes the heat worse. “and i’ll take my time doing it.”
your thighs press together instinctively, and yunho knows how wound up you are after everything between you: months of flirting that escalated into this, months of you pushing and pulling, acting like you didn’t know what your touches did to him. he knows your tells by now: the way your breath gets shallow, the way your thighs tense when he gets too close, the way your eyes flicker to his hands, or somewhere else on his body.
he cups your jaw gently, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “you’re too tense, sweetheart. breathe for me, yeah?”
you try, but he can see how your body reacts and feel your pulse quickening. his hand slides higher, fingertips pressing just enough to make your lips part. and then he pushes two fingers past your lips. you inhale sharply, as his fingers reach your throat, making you gag and choke, your eyes getting watery, but you still suck and lick because yоu don’t want to disappoint the only man who doesn't treat you like just some girl, someone still immature, or someone just to hook up with. he treats you seriously like a woman. doesn't fool around or gives you time to think, he immediately shows that he wants you, proves it, insists.
“i know you like this… don’t pretend you don’t.” his voice drops down, a little rougher and teasing, “open wide.”
you do, as his fingers rest heavily on your tongue, tasting faintly of the skin just above his wrist. you hollow your cheeks around them instinctively, making him break his composure.
“there you go,” he praises the way you take his fingers so well, and he doesn’t want to even imagine how good you will take his cock in your mouth if the time demands so, but there will be plenty of meetings in the future to test that theory. “just like that, see? nothing to worry about, when you are with me.”
he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a soft, wet drag that sends heat down your spine. those same fingers trail down your throat, over your clavicle, lower, until they find the hem of your tight shirt. he lifts it slowly, giving you time to stop him, knowing you won’t. the man peels the fabric from your body, lingerie underneath again, and then his hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips; and did you mention that you are wearing a skirt? the one he goes crazy about because it's so short, and so easy for him to do anything as he pleases. thumbs brushing the band of your underwear… a demi-cup bra and string bikini, like a full set? you never seem to stop surprising him, even if you try to cover yourself with your arms.
“still tense, huh? let me help, then.” you don’t have time to answer when he bends a little, his hand slips between your legs, still over your laced panties, and he presses two fingers directly against your clit through the fabric.
“yun–” you jolt, ready to press your legs together by instinct, when a soft sound escapes your lips that makes him smirk.
“i barely touched you…and you are already this wet for me.” his tone is soft, but his eyes are not, especially the way he pushes the lace aside, and you feel even more exposed. his fingers start moving in small circles, slow and steady, and you are trembling from the arousal he brings. already pressing into his touch, trying to muffle your sounds because he’s watching you too closely.
“don't hide from me,” gently leaning in to kiss your inner thigh. “i want to see and hear everything you have been suppressing.”
by the time he pushes your skirt and underwear down, you’re dripping. he slides one finger with no teasing intentions, just giving you what he knows you need. moaning and gripping his shoulders, he adds a second finger, curling them deep, and you physically break from how good it feels. from how gentle yet rough he moves, making you squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip. your hips rock with his hand, the wet sounds are obscene, and you are already falling apart, and he hasn’t even started yet.
“fuck… yunho its to—”
“relax for me, i’ve got you… such a good girl. bet you dreamed of my hands, imagining my fingers when you tried to satisfy yourself with yours, no?” his thumb finds your clit again, stroking slow, maddening circles, and you’re clenching around his fingers, when a wicked smile appears on his face after seeing how the praise hit you harder than his touch. you’re so lost in it that you don’t notice that you are close, not until he withdraws his fingers entirely, leaving you empty and whining. you blink up at him, dazed, and the look in his eyes is different now. no more soft coaxing or patience, just pure obsession and lust.
he brings his fingers coated in your essence to his mouth and licks them with his tongue, getting a taste of you and, lord, does he wish he could get a proper sample because he has never tasted anything this sweet before. its simply fascinating that the flavor alone is making him hard. then he wipes himself across your inner thigh, spreading your slick deliberately on your flesh. “do you have any idea, how long i’ve waited for this?”
yunho pushes you back before you can even take a breath. your spine sinking into the mattress, as your body still trembles from the way he dragged you right up to the edge and left you hanging there, a denial that feels like punishment and reward all at once. your chest rises and falls too quickly; your hands grip the sheets because you don’t know what else to do with them. you want more, and the pressure of being so close yet so far stings behind your eyes.
he sees that too, and has been careful enough to give you the same push-n-pull treatment you used on him; it's only fair, he thinks. “darling…” voice amused, and almost scolding. he doesn’t move toward you, just watches. so patiently but so cruel, like a predator waiting to see if the prey bolts or freezes. “you’re really about to cry, aren’t you?”
your lip wobbles – you hate that he points it out, and what you hate even more is how much you want him to fix it. he straightens, fingers drifting to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and the muscles in his stomach flex, the v-line, holy shit, his biceps, the veins on them... not to mention he's tall, physically bigger than you. fuck, fuck, fuck you are screwed, you couldn’t possibly make it fit inside you at all, simply horrified at the thought, or because he never once breaks eye contact, not even when his hands move to his waistband.
you’re a mess on the bed, eyes wide, needing something you can’t voice. his fingers tug the band of his grey sweatpants down his hips, and then he stops midway, when you actually giggle. not mocking, but disbelieving, like he is the funniest, most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. maybe someone will think you're crazy, you prove it yourself because who the hell would allow this? the young chick in the bed of the attractive dilf.
“what’s so funny, sweetheart?” he lifts a brow, head tilting, pushing your legs apart, settling between them. “always teasing, acting like a damn brat.”
your brain is too busy crashing against the reality of what you’ve done to give him an answer. what you’ve wanted, and been chasing for months with your stupid acts, flirtatious smiles, the accidental brushes of your hand against his arm.
this is the moment you were stupid enough to think about when you touched yourself at night, whispering his name into your pillow like a prayer. a wish to come true, now kneeling between your thighs when adrenaline spikes so hard your fingers tremble against the sheets. that makes you feel alive in a way nothing in your short twenty-something years has ever made you feel.
this shouldn’t be happening. i can’t believe he’s actually looking at me like that, you think. i’m insane for wanting him this much, but… he wants me too.
“yeah, that’s what i thought. dumb little thing… you don’t even understand what you’ve started, do you?”
before you know it, he is naked, stroking himself nice and slow, letting the weight of his leaking cock rest against your soaked entrance. the position you are in, is this missionary? you don’t even know anymore, too hazy to care about that. he supports himself on knees and thrusts into you with the help of his hands. driving you absolutely crazy by giving you just the tip. to warm you up and get you really wet, to prepare you for what’s about to happen, so say goodbye to your lingerie and self-respect because you are never getting it back.
your nails dig into his arms, manicured with his favorite color, and would you look at that? how thoughtful of you to do this after he mentioned it once. snapping his hips forward just enough that the head slips in, stretching you around him. you choke on a moan, eyes half rolling to the back of your head because it fucking hurts, and it’s only the tip. he groans, head dropping to your shoulder, breath hot against your skin, kissing and leaving love bites, worshipping you to the fullest.
and then he pushes in, slow at first, letting you feel him. you’re trembling, clinging, gasping his name, and he’s whispering praise and filth against your throat because you just feel incredible, better than anyone else he has slept with. even his ex-wife, with whom he created a family.
“shi– ahh, you feel so fucking good, tight little thing… knew you’d be perfect for me.” he bottoms out with a low groan, wrapping one hand around your throat, squeezing, just holding and enjoying the control he has on and over you. how long has it been since he had sex? maybe a few months, or maybe since the day he first saw you, and he didn't want to admit it, but he fell in love, became obsessed with his son’s pretty girl friend. “you should see yourself…trying so hard to take it.”
his thumb strokes your jaw, his hips pull back, making you react strangely, unexpectedly, to some extent, with your moans and panting stopping for a millisecond, before he slams into you. the sudden brutality of it makes you cry out, back arching off the sheets, when the pace is unrestrained, months of frustration and want exploding into each thrust. the bed creaks, your breath stutters, and yunho watches your expression change every so often. truly smitten by how expressive someone can get. he doesn’t mind; it just shows him that you are loving it just as much.
“yeah, cry for me, angel…” hungry kisses again, low whispers and his deep voice making you dig your nails even harder into his arm so that it will definitely leave a mark. “you made me wait this long, you can take a little more, can’t you? so fucking good for me… haa~ should’ve had you like this months ago.”
you nod helplessly, babbling his name, clenching around him so hard he almost loses the rhythm. he is not even all in, but shit does it feel good to actually have you in his bed, underneath, looking so pretty and ethereal, like a doll made of glass that only he knows how to take care of.
and despite being drunk-dazed, all you can think about is how — yunho is nothing like minho.
doesn’t kiss lightly, or tease you just for fun. definitely doesn’t make you feel like it’s a game, or that what’s going to happen depends on you. because you can run in circles all you want with him, and you should admit that he has been careful not to cross any boundary or make you uncomfortable, although you were so tired of it. there was no point in lying to yourself; you're just not the right girl for him.
but minho’s dad, on the other hand, moves every inch of your body like it belongs to him, more precisely, the moment he decides it does. every touch, kiss and bite, the murmurs in your ear are loaded with intent and control. a real man who knew where to touch, press and push your buttons until you give out.
your stomach twists at the comparison, considering minho had been fun, teasing, and experimental — and yes, he’d made you feel good. even if not going past the ‘let me eat you out’ or ‘you like my hands?’ prompts that were all the same every time. problem is, he’d never demanded you, or been assertive, take complete control. maybe if he did, you wouldn't be that miserable and out of your mind to want his dad.
“you didn’t let him,” he whispered, kissing your neck and collarbone, one hand undoing your bra, more so tearing it down, cupping your breasts. and don't worry, he'll buy you a new one. actually, he doesn't spend money on anyone, unless it's to help minho with the car or the apartment, but that's it. he thinks you deserve to be spoiled a lot more. “and i know he hasn’t… because if he did, you wouldn’t have been here with me.”
it’s the raw and unfiltered possessiveness that makes you weak, and you did right by not letting minho sleep with you, because now yunho will get all of you. all you can do is gasp at the pleasure he offers you, as he hums, thumb brushing along your jaw, tilting your head to meet his gaze.
your body melts under the combination of his voice, piercing eyes and the knowledge that this isn’t casual for him. and as he lowers his lips to yours again, stealing your breath away… you know you’ve crossed a line with no regrets. you don’t realise you’re trembling until yunho holds your hips still, wrapping your legs around his waist for him to proceed deeper, with the confidence of a man who has done this before.
“breathe. you’re tightening up.”
great heavens, you try, but your breath stutters the second he presses forward, not even all the way, just enough to make your hands claw at his shoulders. it’s too much, more so, he’s too much. your eyes burn, throat catches, heat and pressure flooding through you so sharply it feels like your heart is trying to crawl up your ribs.
“y-yunho—” his name collapses into a choked sob as the stretch hits, overwhelming and unfamiliar, a sensation you’ve never felt with anyone. no matter how nice it is, and to really show him that you enjoy it and want it even when it hurts. he freezes instantly. not pulling away, or pushing in. just stopped moving, holding you right there, his breath unsteady against your cheek.
“baby? hey, you still with me?” thumb brushing the tears you didn’t even realise spilt. “we go slow now, okay? don’t want to hurt you.” you nod, but another sound slips out. a broken and soft moan, embarrassing to the point when it happens:
you start to cry.
it's not something dramatic or loud like a child's whining. it's enough to make his eyes widen because he expected you to cry, it's a normal part of the process; however, not to make you tremble like a kitten that just opened its eyes to see what the world is like. just those quiet, involuntary tears, reacting to something new, and huge, that hurts in a way that’s almost… beautiful. your forehead drops to his shoulder, muffling a whimper against his skin, when your fingers go to his hair and play with it so you can calm down somehow.
“darling, it’s okay… i’m here, okay?” your fingers curl tighter in his hair, already tired when you haven’t even climaxed yet, you don’t know if you can do it, too scared to proceed any further.
“it’s… it’s too—”
“no.” his voice comes low and stern, warm breath brushing your ear, immediately denying what you were going to say, because you're not a woman who gives up so easily, he wouldn't allow it when you're so close to the finish line. “it’s not too much.”
he waits until you take a breath again. once, twice, until the shaky third time. then he nudges you down a little bit more to his length, slowly and carefully, when you let out a silent scream and just hug him for support, bringing him closer.
“easy, baby,” he coaxes, talking to you in that soft-spoken and kind tone, reassuring you that everything is okay. most importantly, that you are okay, and you can do it. “you’re doing so well for me.” every inch he guides you down feels like another truth reveals itself, and that's it: you take it so damn deep, not even realising how perfect you are for him. your tears won’t stop from feeling overwhelmed, stretched, completely claimed by him, and the way your body is learning the shape of him.
“you’re mine,” voice wrecked, so raspy too, making you rock against him as if wanting to take him by yourself. “you know that now, don’t you?”
your excuse to make a bad decision, bodies getting close under the lights. you’ve got this familiar feeling, like you’ve known him your wholе life. your voice breaks into another plea instead, so needy and desperate, as he clutches your hips.
that’s what he wanted, not to make you be in pain or to struggle, but somehow loosen up. his mouth finds yours, going in for a soft kiss. while you melt against him, helpless, letting him guide you through the overwhelming stretch inch by inch. that little gasp you just let that isn’t anguish anymore but something your body can’t hide, no matter how much you deny it.
he feels the change before you do. his back and arms are probably red from all the digging and scratching, and when your hips push into him, even as tears cling to your lashes. your cries stop sounding scared and start sounding pleasant. pulling back just enough to see your face and how flushed you are with wet cheeks and lips…something in him snaps, whereas he is the one who gets you to see you like this, completely at his mercy, and so so ruined.
“my pretty girl… finally giving in.”
your lips part, a sound cracking out of you, a plea and a moan, and that’s when he moves. slow sweetness turns into a rhythm that steals your breath, and your hands don’t know what to do or where to hold. your sobbed, “please… yunho, i–” turns into something needy, breathy, and immediately addicting.
“oh, you can’t say my name like that,” groaning, head dropping to your shoulder. “darling, you have no idea what that does to me.” his pace picks up, tho not brutally, because he doesn’t want to kill you. it’s gentle, but quick, like he’s been waiting to finally have permission. with one hand, he pins your hands above while the other holds your waist. your voice climbs without you meaning to, every sound spilling out high and helpless, and he bites back a curse.
“baby…” his tone wrecks you. “you’re shaking so much. you want it bad, hmm?” you swallow hard, nodding underneath him because your mouth won’t work properly.
“no.” he lets go of your pinned wrists; his hand coming under your chin, guiding your eyes up to his. heaven is in your stare, not gonna take you there, you should read between the lines, he’s a devil in disguise, he knows how this works. “no nodding… want to hear you say it.”
“y–yes… please…”
“my sweet, needy little doll,” your tears spill again, but now they’re from the pleasure hitting too fast, and deep. you’re overwhelmed but craving, every sound you make begging for more, even when you don’t form the words. he murmurs, kissing the corner of your wet lips. “crying like you’re ruined already… but your body’s begging me for more.”
you want it rough, he can feel it. he thinks you're doing more than well with this new endeavour, taking on something big. you're a good girl, you'll handle it, gasping loudly, as he growls softly in your ear.
“say it.”
“yunho– p-please… don’t stop—”
“yeah, i know what you into… baby, got a type.” he sets a new pace, so harsh that it makes your legs tremble, you’re practically clinging to him for dear life, every breath a moan of his name. a drama awakens as you are drawn to each other, like deja vu, it becomes clear, reality and ideal.
“take it, yeah? take all of it, let me hear you beg for it.” you can’t stop taking him, his head pushing so deep into your velvety walls. it seems to be working its way into all your organs, probably even imprinting itself on your stomach, a belly bludge. fuck, you don’t know anymore, he can do anything to you… all you care about is getting to feel him, no matter how. every sob turns into a plea, every broken moan turns into a scream of his name, that just makes him go rougher, hunger bleeding through each slam.
yunho kisses the tear tracks on your cheek, voice breaking with how badly he wants you. “my sweet angel, you’re so beautiful like this…so messy and loud for me, yeah, ahh— “
your head drops back, a helpless sound ripping out of you, and he swallows it with a kiss that feels like a dream come true. he’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to thank him for it. he whispers against your lips. the pleasure surges, swallowing the last of the pain, and your voice spills out shameless and desperate.
“yunho… aah~ please, m-more.. i-i want yo– ”
his smile is pure sin when he hears you preach like that. you don’t know if he is a fallen angel or the devil himself. he feels it the second your body tightens around him, that involuntary, shaking pull that makes his breath hitch against your throat. his hands clamp harder on your waist like he’s trying to steady himself, but his voice gives him away.
“damn, princess…you’re squeezing me so tight i can barely—” he cuts himself off with a groan that vibrates against your skin. you scream, but he shushes it with a hungry kiss, saliva mixing, wet and sloppy sounds as he pounds into your cunt. you were so wet and aroused that you made everything easier for him.
“doing so good for me… yeah? that’s it, princess, keep going…” trying to answer something like yes, or i can’t, but only his name spills out. you've never fucked like this in your life, or rather, no one has fucked you like this. so much passion, and so many strong emotions, some still hidden, but they will show up in time. it still felt like he was literally touching your soul; you can't anymore, you'd go crazy if you have to do this all day long.
“that’s all you can say now? my name?” he teases you as your fingers tremble against his chest, and you choke out another, “mm, yunho…”
you do not even mean to say his name again, and again. the sound of it knocks something loose in him; the restraint he held onto snaps in the most blissful way. his breath turns harsh, his hold strengthens, and he starts to curse at the sensation.
“fuck, sweetheart… goddamnit, you’re gonna make me lose it for real,” he buries his face in your neck for a second, pulling you closer until it’s hard to breathe. but then he moves again, with hard thrusts that make your eyes roll to the back of your head. your voice jumps, too loud, and slightly higher, and then his face is millimetres from yours, guiding your mouth to his. “shhh, angel… let me hear you, but let me taste you too.”
your moan melts into his mouth, and he swallows it, kissing you harder like he wants to savour how ruined you sound. then he pulls back just enough to see your face, and how the little mascara you had put on stained your cheeks with a light shade of black.
you can barely breathe, let alone speak, but he strokes your cheek with his thumb, tenderly cleaning the faint stains even as his pace pushes you closer to the limit you swore you couldn’t reach again.
“remember a few minutes ago?” he whispers, lips brushing yours again, “when you said you couldn’t take it?” a tiny, helpless whimper comes from you, and he presses a kiss that builds up anticipation rather than stimulation. because look at you, taking all of him, feeling so good, more than amazing, and you are so beautiful, magnificent, with such a pretty face and body. a personality that he can easily read like an open book, doesn't need the resume, he just looks at you and knows what it's going to be about.
another sob of pleasure, as he groans if the sound physically hits him. your thighs tremble, your hands clutch at him helplessly, and he leans in, kissing along your jaw, your cheek, your neck, everywhere your skin burns for him. he knows exactly what he’s doing. needy moans tear out of you, and he kisses your lips again to quiet the sound.
you can’t form words anymore. every attempt just collapses into: yunho or please, in a voice that barely holds together. he loves it so much, the way you just give in, the effect and control he has over you just feeds his ego so cruelly. brushing his nose against your skin, flawless and thin, but your apologies are only selfish with vain intent.
“hold on for me a little longer, yeah? i’m not done with you yet.” he can’t stop kissing you, it's like a drug, so addicting and intoxicating. knowing that he is the one to have you like this, to scream like you saw the phantom of opera, and when you shake your head instantly, or maybe your body just moves on instinct, but it’s enough to make him shudder. he pushes you just a little further on purpose, knowing exactly how far you can go and how much more of his cock you can take. arching into him like you’re breaking and begging at the same time.
“nngh, that’s–that’s it, sweetheart,” praises left and right, because he shouldn’t be mean to you, despite you deserving it. no, no, yunho is not that evil. maybe he wanted to call you a slut, maybe you knew deep down that you were one. even though you didn't go from man to man, but the way you treated him, the provocation you created was enough for that word to be defined by your name. “you’re doing so damn well.”
a kiss to your cheek, another to your jaw. a final one to your lips, that were so red and swollen. you don’t even realise what’s happening until your whole body locks up. not from fear, or pain, but from something so sudden it steals the breath right out of your lungs, crashes into you like a wave you didn’t see coming. acrylic nails dig helplessly into him, a choked sound tearing from your throat as everything inside you tightens too fast for you to react.
“oh— sweetheart…” yunho feels the way you are going to climax soon. “that’s it… come for me, yeah?” your vision blurs. you’re close, so close, and he knows by the way his hand slides to your clit, rubbing circles that match the brutal pace of his hips. your entire body shivers, thighs shaking, stomach cinching tight as if something deep inside you is twisting and pulling you under.
“yun– i’m.. please, i–”
he is guiding you through the storm, “breathe, princess… i’ve got you.”
it happened so suddenly, your juices spilling as he fucks you right into it, but more slowly. you’ve never experienced something like this before…never so real, intense, so impossible to hold onto. those intense feelings of pleasure hitting you so hard that the only thing you can do is say his name like it could stop you from creaming around his cock.
a deep pressure that makes you whine, you press a shaking hand to your lower belly on instinct, trying to make sense of the sensation, and is that him? is it so deep that you can feel it all the way there, that you can see it all the way there, stretching and pushing... your eyes widened in shock, as yunho catches your wrist gently, his breath hitching when he sees where your hand went. body is still fluttering with aftershocks, muscles tightening and releasing, like your nerves don’t know how to stop. he cups your cheek, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his.
“sweet girl…was that your first real one?”
you can’t even answer, and tell him that yes, this was your first time cumming, not even faking a thing. you simply can’t fake anything when the guy who fucks you just knows how to do it properly. your lips part, but nothing comes out except a shaky, overwhelmed sigh.
“of course it was~ no wonder you’re shaking and being so responsive.” the look that flashes across yunho’s face is something simply catastrophic. pride, and awe, all tangled together. he was speechless, like falling into some kind of ecstasy. while your stomach is tightening at that foreign pressure, and he feels it too. your fingers clutch at him again, helpless, overstimulated and still riding the remnants of something too intense to name.
“princess… if i’d known you’d fall apart for me like that…” he stops himself, breathing raggedly against your skin. he should have pleased you sooner if he knew you were going to react like this. his praise only makes your body flutter harder, and he quietly whimpers, brushing his lips down your throat. you have no idea what you just did to him.
his tone changes when you are still trying your very best to calm down and regain composure to continue, as if something in him snaps into place the moment he feels the way you cling to him, so tight, and needy.
“tell me something, sweetheart.” he slows down just enough that you feel every inch, every deliberate shift of his hips that drags another helpless sound from your throat. “did he ever make you feel like that?”
you don’t answer, not because you’re hiding anything, but because you physically can’t. your vocal cords are nonexistent because the maximum words you can say are about five, and one of them is his name. that beautiful name belongs to the man who ruins you in the most beautiful way possible.
“did he?” yunho hisses, so possessive and demanding, like he wants to hear the truth from you even if he knows better than anyone else that his son couldn’t step up his game and please such a pretty and smart girl, who is a freak in the sheets. you probably will be, even though you're so submissive right now. you’re in a situation where he won't let you take the dominant position until you learn to take him all at once, or until you convince him enough to change his mind. you'd look so good on top of him, and he'd watch you struggle when you line up his tip to your soaked entrance, how those beautiful breasts will bounce once you start to jump like crazy.
he speeds up just enough that you can hear the skin slapping, making you arch your back like the cat you are. “did minho ever have you shaking like this?”
no. minho never touched you like this; couldn't even make you orgasm. you had to pretend the whole time that you liked it, faking everything he made you feel. just so you could keep him close, so you could get your hands on his father.
a grown man who knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly how to take you apart.
satisfied growl vibrates against your neck as he speeds up again, his grip tightens at your waist. you are unbearably sensitive, and he groans when he feels how your body reacts, like you’re trying to pull him closer without even meaning to. too intense to hold back, a second orgasm is building too fast for you to even process it.
“oh? you’re close again?” his cock is practically abusing you, but not in a way that hurts, just making sure you get to feel everything he has to offer. “pretty little thing, can you do it for me? hmm, i know you can.”
and you do. again and again, until he imprints himself in you, so hard and deep that he can simply rearrange your dna. he praises you, every time you coat him with your juices — soft when you’re shaking, rough when you’re clinging to him, filthy when you beg.
by the time the seventh wave of pleasure hits you, you’re barely able to function. your thighs are trembling uncontrollably, vision is hazy, brain system is foggy. he slows down because he feels himself coming soon. tho, he is not stopping, just holding you in place, breathing hard against your throat as he fights for control.
“doll, you tell me…where do you want it?”
your voice is muffled, broken from overstimulation, but your body answers for you. you tighten around him, hard, your whole body squeezing instinctively every time he thrusts in deeper. yunho groans, too honest for him to hide that he just can’t contain what he feels for you.
“inside, huh?” his forehead drops to your shoulder, biting it in the process. he knew you were a freak, but not that much of a freak. “you want me there?”
“yeah… please…” you whimper, clinging to him. you didn't want him to pull out; you didn't want to let him go even for a moment. all your thoughts were filled with only 'yunho, yunho, yunho, yunho'. he took over your every sense, all the thoughts you never thought possible, feelings you never felt. “please…yunho, fill me up.”
you are going to kill him. he tries to breathe, tries to hold on just a second more, but he’s too close, powerless when you want him to finish inside, the way you say his name, because it’s the only thing you remember. slender fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you even closer, deeper, and then he’s gone. coming hard, gasping heavily in your ear as he fills you completely to the brim. the way you squeeze around him like you’re trying to keep him there forever. you make him want things that are against all laws, not to mention morals.
the moment he releases inside you, a strangled sob escapes you before you can stop it, your arms winding around his shoulders as if you’re trying to hold onto him, trembling, desperate, and clinging. your face presses into the crook of his neck, warm and wet against his skin as more tears slip free. yunho is suddenly taken aback, having his ‘breaking the 4th wall moment’. it’s been years since he felt this kind of connection. he seems almost surprised, keeping moving gently, riding out the last waves until he feels you tighten again, pulling him deeper, milking every drop from him without meaning to.
“not knocking you up,” he murmurs, still breathless, still pressed against your skin. “no matter how good you’d look full of me.”
causing that kind of family drama, knocking up someone much younger than him? not happening.
“sweetheart, you’re….you’re still holding onto me.” his voice is hoarse, deep tone, with even deeper feelings gushing in his chest. your thighs quivering around him, overstimulated and helpless. he slides a hand up your spine, soothing you, trying to ground you as he coos against your hair. “okay. okay, baby, let it all out then.”
you try to breathe, but everything inside you is too full — your head, your heart, your cunt. the feeling of being so filled you can’t separate where you end and he begins. the rush of it makes you dizzy, stuck on a feeling, and it's a crime how he is talking to you. and underneath the haze… guilt curls in your stomach as it has just been waiting to strike at the right moment.
yunho is still inside you when he realises something’s wrong.
“i don’t– i shouldn’t have– yunho?” regardless his name is the first thing you can say. his hand then comes up to cradle the back of your neck, thumb stroking the sensitive skin there as he pulls you back just enough to see your face.
your eyes are wet and glassy. it was as if you had stars in your eyes, but he couldn't tell if they had fallen or if they were about to rise and shine brighter than the sun. he hates the guilt in them.
he’d been smug just moments ago, drunk on the feel of you, on how tight you were, on how you kept pulling him deeper as if your body were made to take him. the heat between you was enough to burn, his ears were red, chest heaving, pupils blown wide. you looked ruined, and he was proud of it, but his smirk faded instantly. he hates that anything about this moment is hurting you.
“baby, no,” he murmurs, kissing a tear before it falls. his whole body softens, feeling you clench, not from lust, but from the aftermath of everything he pushed you through. “don’t do that…hey–”
you try to inhale, but your lungs feel tight, and your heartbeat won’t calm.
“there’s no going back now. what’s done is done.” the way he says it isn’t cruel. it’s almost sympathetic, the tone someone uses when they close a door for you so you don’t have to look at it again. “you’re not a horrible person, not even a bit. you are just confused and exhausted.”
you want to believe him, despite feeling the exact opposite. he kisses you before you can argue. the kind of kiss that is supposed to make you calm down and stop thinking. to stop fighting, and let yourself fall where he’s waiting for you with open arms.
your body still holds him inside, pulsing around him like it doesn’t know how to release him yet. and he doesn’t push, just stays there, his palms splayed over your waist, heat radiating from his skin into your bones.
when he finally pulls out slowly from you, and the loss of him burns. pain curling low as his cock slides free, followed by the warm spill of him dripping down your thighs. the sudden emptiness makes your legs tremble, makes your fingers curl weakly into his shoulders.
yunho watches your face the whole time. not your body, not the mess he made, but you.
“sweets,” his hands run down your shaking thighs, slow and soothing, thumbs tracing the tremor he caused. he’s too gentle, like he knows exactly how to make you feel at peace again. “that’s enough for today. you don’t need to worry about anything except resting now.”
he presses a kiss to your cheek, another to your temple, then a quick peck to your lips. each touch is convincing in a way that frightens you.
“i’m going to take care of you, because you did so well for me.” strong arms sliding beneath you, lifting you like you weigh nothing. your head falls against his shoulder, your body limp from everything he dragged out of you. “come on, sweetheart. let’s get you cleaned up.”
steam still clings to your skin by the time yunho wraps a towel around your shoulders. your legs are jelly, maybe they don’t even exist. wobbling every time you try to put weight on them, and he watches it happen with a smile that could kill anyone within a 10-meter radius. it was smug, but not egotistical. he just can’t believe he gets to touch you at all.
“(name), just lean on me,” he murmurs, steadying your hips when your knees give up again. he helped you into the bath earlier, washing you with hands so gentle you almost cried again. then in the shower, his chest warm against your back, while he made sure every bit of you felt taken care of. not used or for you to feel dirty, but cherished and loved.
then, quietly, without judgment, he handed you a small packet with a pill inside. why he has them is another mystery to be left behind. “just in case, sweetheart. i don’t want you worrying.” because he should have been careful and put a condom, but he won’t tell you that he forgot to buy some, because well, he didn’t expect that today of all days he was going to wreck you.
the tenderness in his eyes when you took it nearly knocked you out all over again. now, in the soft light of his room, he dresses you carefully, just like a doll. one of his old oversized shirts, worn and soft, then a pair of boxers he sheepishly admitted no longer fit him.
when you stand in front of him, swallowed by his clothes, eyes tired and swollen from crying, yunho just stares. like he’s falling in love in real time. he steps closer, hands cupping your cheeks. “you look… beautiful,” it’s not the rough and demanding tone from earlier; it’s something sweet that makes the butterflies in your stomach spread their wings even wider and flutter everywhere, even reaching your heart and mind. “my fuckin’ god, angel… don’t do that to me.”
you don’t know what to say, because it hits you all over again — you just slept with your friend’s father. someone you weren’t supposed to want, and absolutely shouldn’t have touched, or thought about this way.
“yunho… i— i don’t know how to feel.”
he steps behind you before the panic can rise, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest. slowly, he begins to sway you side to side in a gentle, soothing rhythm you didn’t expect from a man who ruined you an hour ago. his chin rests on your head when he opens his mouth.
“baby, you feel overwhelmed. that’s normal…” he murmurs as his hands slide up and down your arms, calming the shake you didn’t realise had returned. “you think you did something unforgivable,” adding a soft kiss to your hair. “but you didn’t.”
you swallow hard, guilt and desire twisting inside you, because you are so torn, can't make an adequate decision, nor are you currently capable of thinking about anything more than the fact that the moment you fell for him, like an angel cast out of heaven, you knew there was no way you could get back up again.
“this is… wrong,” you whisper. “it has to be.”
“maybe it is, but…” his arms tighten slowly, possessively. “…we both know it’s not going to stop.” you panic again, breathing heavy, when his lips brush your shoulder, a soft, devastating kiss.
“and what happened today,” he continues, swaying you gently, still trying his best to convince you that you did nothing wrong. you are a human being, with a mind of its own, with needs that need to be satisfied every once in a while. that you are free to do anything you want, as long as it makes you happy. “that wasn’t just for us to relieve the pent-up tension, but you know that already.”
your throat tightens, since he is right. closing your eyes, leaning back against him despite the guilt curling in your stomach.
“doll,” his hands slide to your hips, holding you delicately. he really wanted you to listen more to his words, because even though they were meant to reassure you, the truth was hidden in them. “…you’re going to be my little secret.”
“this won’t be the last time, will it?” you ask, feeling him kiss your face, entirely too intimate.
“no,” whispering into your skin, the softness of his voice at complete odds with the way he’s cornering your heart, “tho, you have a choice,” he says… and you can feel the lie in the way he holds you. but he’s swaying you gently, hugging you like he’s trying to soothe nerves he’s also responsible for sparking.
it isn’t a choice; you have no say in that. he’s taking advantage of how off-balance and vulnerable you are currently… and you let him, since you haven’t exactly been innocent either. your body melts back into him like you’ve already decided.
warm lips brush the shell of your ear, smiling against your skin, “you can walk away from this, and by doing so you walk away from me.” his hands slide over your stomach, “or… you can stay. let me take care of you, love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
your stop breathing for what seems like a minute, because the way he says it, so gentle, not forceful, almost sad and yet it hits you exactly where he wants it to.
three months ago, before you even realized what you were doing, you’d let minho get closer, let him open up to you, let him trust you, and you’d smiled sweetly every time he invited you over. every time he unknowingly walked you straight into temptation.
if he knew that you liked his father instead… maybe you should finally friendzone him, so whatever you had going on will stop. it’s pointless when it's one-sided, and besides, you don't want to date him, and you don't even want to say it… you don't want to cheat on him with his own father. that's why you never set the green light with him, friends with benefits, was it?, but nothing more.
yunho senses your spiral and cages you tighter against his chest, whispering, as you tilt your head just enough to meet his eyes, “we’ll be careful, we have been so far, no? minho doesn’t have to know anything, my son is not that great at taking hints or reading the room, so don’t worry, alright?”
and that’s how it begins.
the secret rendezvous — nights in his apartment when minho stays with his mom. afternoons where yunho pretends he’s just “working from home” while you’re spread out on his couch and he devours your pussy with his mouth like it’s his last meal and day on planet earth. cockwarming him on his gaming chair as he edits some photos from work, and sometimes when you decide to be naughty and let your brat energy shine, he simply bends you over his desk to teach you some manners and not to interrupt him when he's working. trips he arranges through connections, quiet little escapes to seaside hotels and mountain cabins. the excuse you feed minho and your friends when you mention you can’t hang out because you are going on a family vacation.
a game of hide-and-seek where the seeker is so heartbreakingly blind.
and you were so good at convincing your family to go there that it wouldn't be so suspicious. just you suggesting a new destination to enjoy the season, or if there is an occasion like your mom’s birthday. she really enjoyed okinawa, and she was infinitely grateful to you for the surprise. plus, they know you have a job that pays well, but what you wouldn't tell them is that another person was giving you money and spoiling you rotten.
or that time when he was balls deep into you, and his ex-wife called him, and he had to pick up because she kept spamming his phone. maybe it was her 5th call, and for that, he apologised to you by telling you to be quiet, putting his hand over your mouth, as he continued to fuck you in slow thrusts. "yeah, minsoo? i'm a little busy right now, talking to a client… you know, booking photoshoots, gotta schedule a date.” then she said something that made his gaze flick toward you. “no,” he replied softly. “no one’s with me.”
he was so mad after the conversation and the fact that she wouldn't stop talking, and he didn't really care about how minho needs a new laundry machine... and he just took it out on you, but you loved it when he was rough.
back in the present, it’s been a few months already and nothing has changed. yunho presses a kiss under your ear, down to your neck. “you staying with me tonight?” his voice is hopeful, and a little too pleased. he knew there was no way you could refuse him, especially the way he made you melt, arms sliding around your waist fully, pulling you against him.
“yeah… i think so.”
even though everything is wrong, like you just committed a sin that cannot be unforgiven. you could be torn between two roads that you just can't decide, which one is leading you to hell or paradise? you still lean into him as you’ve already chosen the path you’re going to walk on.
he is someone you could get addicted to in more ways than one. you didn’t leave him, didn’t run, fight, or try to fix what you’d helped unravel. you just let him hold you tighter until there was no room left to breathe without him.
yunho didn’t apologise, or hesitate to make you his, even if your relationship is considered a riddle with no clear answer, a mystery with no evidence to follow. he just looked at you the same way he did the day it all began. with clear motives that he won’t back down, and chose you with a certainty that felt like fate, destined to be with you, and like a promise that felt like a threat.
in the end, you took it all away from me, you think, as he bites your lower lip. big hands already exploring your body that he knows like his own, making you want more. more than he has already given you. perfect, he is perfect at anything he does, and what he does best is love you, because he can make the impossible possible.
he took everything, and he made sure you didn’t want it back.
thank you so much macie (@strhwa), for taking the time to do a beta read and be an editor. i love you so much, and i hope jongho is going to eat you out tonight ! xoxo
tends to wake up before you to get work done but will get back in the bed to cuddle you just before your alarm goes off so you wake up in his arms
will never admit it, not even to you, but being the little spoon is his favorite sleeping position
knows your breakfast delivery order by heart so he can surprise you with it
makes up songs to sing to entertain you while you’re both getting ready for the day because he says you inspire him
San:
you know it’s true love when he’s willing to lend you one of his plushies to cuddle
most likely to pout if you try to get out of bed before he’s ready to let you go
gives all of the kisses wherever he can reach to wake you up
will greet you with “hey beautiful” even if your hair is a mess and you woke up with bags under your eyes because he genuinely believes you still are
Seonghwa:
will wake up and finish at least sixty percent of the chores on your to do list before you’ve even opened one eye
brings you breakfast in bed for made up holidays such as the anniversary of your second and third dates
will never tell you how long you slept in if he knows you don’t have somewhere to be because he’d rather make sure you’re well rested
loves playing soft music in the background to start the day and can’t resist dancing you around your bedroom in your pajamas
Yunho:
sleeps in longer than you if he’s been up half the night gaming and keeps you in bed with one arm around you or his head on your chest
kisses you like you’re Sleeping Beauty to wake you up
if you’re too sleepy to walk to the kitchen for breakfast he’ll happily carry you there on his back, low key loves showing off that he can
can’t get enough of being the big spoon so he feels like he’s protecting you from bad dreams
Mingi:
feels bad that he can’t cook you breakfast as well as you can for him but will go to the nearest cafe at the crack of dawn to bring back coffee just the way you like it and your favorite pastry
has wound up giving you shirts of his that you borrowed to sleep in because he decides you look too cute in them for him to ask for them back
happiest when you use his chest or shoulder as a pillow
blushes when you check him out shirtless after he’s just woken up
Yeosang:
taught himself to use an absurdly expensive espresso machine to make you your morning coffee to bring you in bed, if you ask him about it he claims he wanted to know anyway
the couple that does their comprehensive skincare routine together stays together, never minds if you borrow his products or spray on one of his perfumes instead
loves small gestures of affection while you’re still asleep, petting your hair/holding your hand/kissing the top of your head
secretly enjoys how you get goosebumps when he whispers “good morning” in your ear with that deep voice of his
Jongho:
has glared at everything and everyone from garbage trucks to birds outside the window if they dare to disturb his morning cuddles with you
steals your pajama pants to wear if they have cute characters on them, especially bears
requires at least three fourths of his morning cup of coffee or tea before he talks, you both drink yours in comfortable silence on the couch
loves it when you have your head on his lap while he reads in bed
Wooyoung:
wakes up a little before you to watch you sleep with the goofiest lovesick smile on his face, thinks it’s cute when you hug your pillow in your sleep
certified blanket thief and you’re pretty sure he does it so you’ll cuddle him to stay warm in the winter
never ask him if he dreamed of you because there’s no way to tell if his answer will be cute or way too spicy for 7am
has walked around wearing only a towel around his waist after showering specifically to distract you from getting ready for work
pairing(s) : Idol! San x Escort! Reader x Idol! Yunho
word count : 3972
summary : You was booked for one night. They turned it into a goddamn performance.
genre : smut
warning(s) : Heavy dirty talk & degradation, Spit play / face-fucking / throatfucking, Power imbalance / dominance / humiliation, Multiple positions, choking, edging, body worship, Non-consensual photo taken (within fantasy context), Crying, overstimulation, begging, light CNC elements, Mentions of public sharing / group chat humiliation, No aftercare (pure filth fantasy). Let me know if I missed anything!
A/N : I AM FUCKING OBSESSED WITH THOSE UNDER EYE BLUSH SHIT🥵🥵🥵
Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!
🪐smut under the cut🪐
The crowd was still screaming even after the lights dimmed.
Ateez had just killed their encore stage—sweat-drenched, shirtless, every fan in the arena losing their minds as they shouted the members’ names like a prayer. It was chaos in the best way. The boys fed off it. But now, backstage, the adrenaline was shifting.
San leaned back against the hallway wall, still catching his breath, towel slung over his shoulders. His chest heaved with each exhale, abs glistening. He licked his lips slowly, eyes scanning the lingering crew walking back and forth, too hyped to care about professionalism.
"Did you see that girl in the third row?" he asked Yunho, a smirk playing on his lips. "Red top, fake tits, tongue out the whole time."
Yunho didn’t look up from his water bottle. He tilted it back, drinking deep, neck flexing with each swallow.
San scoffed. “You’re telling me you weren’t looking? That mouth was open wider than her brain.”
Yunho finally glanced at him. “And you think that’s a good thing?”
San laughed, deep and low. “Point taken.”
It was always like this after a show—energy high, egos higher. The fans gave them everything, and once the stage lights dimmed, the boys needed something more. Something real. Something to fuck out the leftover tension.
"Where’s Mingi?" Yunho asked, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rode up slightly, exposing the waistband of his sweats—and the sweat-slick V-line that had girls screaming ten minutes ago.
“Probably still sulking,” San grinned. “Said his girl last night had the ass of a pancake and didn’t even moan.”
Yunho made a noise of disgust.
“I told him, ‘bro, that’s what you get for picking randoms off Instagram.’” San pushed off the wall. “We need a proper one tonight. No risk. No bullshit. Just someone who knows what the fuck she’s doing.”
Yunho’s jaw ticked slightly. “Someone who acts professional... and leaves broken.”
San raised a brow. “Oh? In a mood tonight, hyung?”
Yunho didn’t answer, but the twitch in his lips said enough.
San turned toward their manager, who was speaking with staff nearby. “Hyung,” he called, casually, like he was asking for a charger. “You still got that escort contact?”
The man paused, eyes darting around.
Yunho stepped up beside San, towering, calm, unreadable.
“VIP agency only,” San clarified, tossing his towel over his shoulder. “None of that influencer bullshit.”
Their manager sighed but nodded. He tapped at his phone, muttering, “Y’all gonna give me a heart attack someday.”
Within seconds, a list was sent. Faces, stats, bios. Professional girls—high-end, clean, trained. The kind of women who didn’t beg for autographs or Instagram clout. Just money and silence.
San scrolled, unimpressed, until—
“Stop.” Yunho’s voice cut in.
San looked where he was pointing.
You.
Tight black dress, slightly parted lips, subtle curves, a still frame that looked like it was daring someone to ruin it. Your eyes weren’t even looking at the camera—you were glancing down, like the picture had been taken mid-thought.
Yunho’s voice was quiet. “That one.”
San whistled low. “Pretty. Looks smart.”
“Good,” Yunho said. “I want her to know exactly what she’s agreeing to.”
San tapped BOOK.
The screen blinked.
Confirmed. She’ll be at the hotel in one hour.
Somewhere across the city, you fastened the last strap on your heels. Your phone buzzed. Location received. Payment secured. Instructions clear.
You glanced once at yourself in the mirror—clean makeup, glossy lips, tits high, legs long, expression unreadable. You knew who they were. You’d seen their faces on screens, in magazines, on stages.
But tonight, they were just clients.
And you? You were the service.
No fan shit. No hesitation.
Still, as you picked up your clutch and walked out the door, there was a flicker in your stomach. Something dark. Something electric.
Like instinct already warning you:
You’re not ready.
The hotel suite was warm with leftover tension. Expensive whiskey on the minibar, concert gear half-dropped across the couch, the faint echo of bass still humming in the floor like a ghost of the stage.
You stepped inside like you owned it.
Black heels, black dress, sharp eyes. You didn’t flinch at the man spread wide on the couch—shirtless, sweaty, cocky. Or the one standing by the window with his arms crossed and his stare like a weapon.
You knew them. Of course you did.
Choi San.
Jeong Yunho.
Big fucking deals. Even bigger egos.
“Damn,” San said, looking you over slowly. “They actually sent us a ten.”
You didn’t stop walking. “Depends who’s rating me.”
He let out a low laugh. “Ohhh, she’s got a mouth.”
“I’m a service, not a saint,” you said flatly, tossing your clutch onto the counter. “I don’t do fanservice, I don’t pretend to care about your careers, and I don’t stay longer than the clock. You’ve got ninety minutes and I’m paid in full. You want anything extra—ask nice and pay more.”
Yunho didn’t say a word. Just watched you from his chair—muscles relaxed, eyes ice-cold. Like he was imagining you naked, kneeling, gagging—and already planning how to get you there.
You met his stare, cocking a brow. “You always this quiet or just trying to intimidate me?”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile.
Just said, “You’ll know when I’m ready to talk.”
Your stomach tightened—fuck. That voice. Deep enough to make your thighs shift.
San stood now, bare feet silent on the hardwood as he came toward you. He didn’t touch. Just circled—like a man appraising a new toy.
“You don’t act like the other girls,” he said.
“They act like you matter,” you replied.
That made him grin. Filthy and unbothered. “Ooh, fuck, I like her.”
“Most men do,” you said. “Until I walk out.”
Yunho stood up behind you. His height alone was enough to make the air thicken. You felt the heat of his body even without contact, the way his presence pushed your heartbeat up a notch.
San stepped in front of you, fingers toying with your dress strap.
“You come with instructions?”
You smiled. “Sure. Don’t fall in love. Don’t try to kiss me. And if you can’t make me cum, don’t waste my fucking time.”
Yunho moved in behind you now, close enough to smell—clean sweat, cologne, something musky and expensive.
San leaned closer. “And if I want to wreck you?”
Your voice was calm, lips close to his.
“Then fucking try.”
The tension snapped like elastic.
Yunho’s voice dropped behind you, low and firm:
“Strip.”
You turned your head slightly, still smirking. “Why? Scared I’ll say no once I see how small you are?”
San barked a laugh and stepped back.
Yunho didn’t even blink. “I said strip.”
This time it wasn’t a question.
And something inside you thrummed—a deep, dark heat pooling low as you stared at them both.
Two men who wanted to ruin you.
And maybe… just maybe… you wanted it.
You slid your fingers up to your zipper, pulling it down slow. The dress peeled away like silk, falling to your ankles with barely a whisper.
No bra. Just tits out, proud and perky. Black lace thong and nothing else.
No shame. No nerves. Just that look on your face—the kind that says I’ve been fucked better than you, but I’ll let you try.
San whistled. “Oh yeah. She’s gonna cry.”
Yunho sat back down, spreading his legs, still silent.
And then he said it.
“Get on your knees.”
You sank to your knees without a word.
Not because you were weak.
Because you knew exactly what this was.
And if they were going to fuck your body—you’d make them earn it.
San crouched in front of you, head tilted like he was seeing something fascinating for the first time. His fingers trailed from your jaw down to your collarbone, slow and taunting.
“Shit…” he whispered. “You really are something.”
You didn’t respond. Just tilted your chin up a little, daring him.
He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.
"You ever been on your knees in front of someone who didn’t even have to touch you to make you drip?"
Yunho stepped behind you again, this time close enough to feel. He dropped to a knee, hands smooth and warm on your waist, sliding up over your ribs, grazing the undersides of your tits.
You breathed in sharply when his thumbs pressed into the soft flesh, pushing up, squeezing.
“No bra,” he murmured, more to himself. “Good girl.”
His head dipped, and his mouth was on your neck—no warning. Just wet, open kisses, tongue dragging slow up your skin before he bit. Not hard, but deep enough to make your whole body twitch.
“Sensitive,” he muttered. “I like that.”
San cupped your face, guiding your gaze back to him.
“You ever been worshipped, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low. “Not fucked. Not used. Worshipped.”
You hesitated. Breath shaky. But your eyes never dropped.
“I don’t believe in gods,” you said.
San grinned. “Me too, but you will.”
They made you sit back on your heels, arms behind your back—displayed. Yunho stayed behind you, holding you open. His palms slid up your thighs, spreading them until the lace of your thong pulled tight against your pussy.
San kissed your knee. Soft. Almost sweet.
Then trailed his lips up your inner thigh, pausing to bite just above the softest spot.
You gasped.
“Ohh, she makes noise,” he teased, tongue flicking where your skin was thinnest. “Thought you were gonna be all business.”
Yunho hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your thong. Pulled it down slow. You lifted your hips without needing to be told.
"Well-behaved," he muttered. "Wonder how long that’ll last."
They didn’t touch your pussy at first.
No—they stared.
Yunho ran two fingers along your folds, slow, not even parting them yet.
“Dripping,” he said flatly. “Didn’t even touch her clit.”
San looked up from between your thighs. “She wants to be ruined. Look at her. Look how her legs keep twitching.”
Then—spit.
San let a thick glob fall from his tongue right onto your slit.
It slid down slow, glossy, filthy.
You jerked.
“Ohh,” he grinned. “She likes that.”
Yunho took the spit and rubbed it in with two fingers, sliding through your folds, just brushing your clit—
And your hips bucked.
San slapped your inner thigh. Loud.
You moaned.
"Try that shit again," he warned, "and I’ll tie your legs open."
Then he went in.
Tongue first. Long, flat licks like he was tasting dessert. Then smaller ones, teasing circles over your clit that made you whimper.
Yunho pinched your nipples from behind.
"Use your words," he said, voice gravel. "You wanted this. Say it."
You bit your lip.
"Say it," San echoed, lifting his face just enough to smack your pussy. A quick sting. Your body jumped.
"I want it," you gasped.
“Want what?” Yunho growled, twisting one nipple while the other hand slid down your belly.
"Want your tongue," you breathed. "Want you to fuck me with it—please."
San moaned into your cunt, tongue pressing harder now, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking. Yunho shoved two fingers in without warning—deep—curling them just right, pumping while San worked you up top.
Your hands scrambled for something—anything. The floor. Yunho’s thigh. Your own skin.
It didn’t matter.
You were unraveling.
You felt it build—tight, hot, liquid heat bursting in your core—
“I’m—fuck—I’m coming—!”
San didn’t stop. Yunho didn’t slow. Your body shook, legs spasming, jaw slack as the orgasm ripped through you. You couldn’t even speak—just a long, raw moan, head thrown back.
When you came down, you realized your mascara had smeared. Your thighs were wet. Your arms were trembling.
San leaned back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “We haven’t even started.”
Yunho grabbed his phone.
You blinked, dazed. “What are you—”
“Gonna make Mingi jealous,” he said calmly, lifting the camera. “He didn’t get big boobies hoe yesterday.”
Click.
The camera clicked, and you flinched like it was a gunshot.
Your body was still twitching from the orgasm—legs sticky and trembling, lips parted, chest rising and falling in short, ragged breaths. San was still kneeling between your thighs, tongue lazily flicking across your inner thigh just to feel you jerk.
Yunho held his phone up, angled with that same calm you were starting to fear more than anything.
San watched you with a crooked smirk. “Hope you smiled pretty, baby.”
He leaned back and tugged at your ruined thong like it was a trophy, holding it up to inspect it. Then tossed it onto the coffee table like trash.
You blinked slowly, trying to center yourself, but Yunho’s voice cut through your daze.
“Sent.”
San snorted. “You didn’t.”
Yunho showed him the screen.
San cackled.
“Fuck, you really just did it. Sent a full pussy shot to the group chat. With her tits out and everything.”
You tried to sit up. Tried to breathe.
“What did you—?”
“Don’t worry,” San said, wiping a strand of hair off your cheek, “they won’t know who you are. They’ll just wish they were us.”
Yunho tossed the phone onto the bed behind him. Calm as ever. Still half-hard in his sweatpants like your orgasm was a snack, not the meal.
Then the buzzes started.
Vrrrr. Vrrrr. Vrrr.
San grabbed the phone again and started reading with a laugh.
Mingi: “BRO. I GOT A FLAT GIRL IN BANGKOK WTF IS THIS.”
Wooyoung: “No way that moan’s real. Did you edit it?”
Seonghwa: “I need a booking link. Immediately.”
Yeosang: [sends a photo of a broken couch] “That’s her spine next.”
Jongho: “Delete this. I’m blocking the entire group.”
Hongjoong: “Have some privacy, won't you?”
San turned the screen to show you. “You’re famous now.”
Your throat was dry. “You’re sick.”
San grinned. “You’re wet.”
Yunho stood, looming behind you. “Crawl to the bed.”
You looked up at him. Swallowed. “What?”
“Crawl,” he repeated. “You wanted to be treated like a toy. Toys don’t walk.”
Your stomach dropped. Your cunt clenched—traitor.
He didn’t say it again. Just waited.
So you moved.
Palms to the floor, legs shaky, knees burning with every shift on the hardwood. You crawled like they told you—toward the bed, tits swaying, face hot, pride somewhere far behind.
You could feel them watching.
San followed close, laughing softly. “Look at that. Thought she was in charge thirty minutes ago.”
Yunho sat on the edge of the bed, watching you approach between his legs. His cock was hard now—thick, tenting his sweats. One hand resting on his thigh, the other fisting the hem of his shirt like he was holding himself back.
When you reached him, you knelt again, breath shaky.
He looked down at you.
“Now beg.”
You swallowed hard, already kneeling between his legs, arms trembling from the crawl. The scent of him—sweat, Dyptique, the kind of power that clung to skin—wrapped around your brain like a noose.
“I want your cock,” you whispered.
He raised a brow. “That’s not begging.”
San sat on the edge of the dresser behind you, legs swinging, grinning. “Better try again, baby. He likes it when girls sound desperate.”
Your throat tightened.
“Please… Yunho,” you murmured, looking up, lips parted. “I want your cock in my mouth. I want to choke on it. I want to feel it down my throat until I forget my fucking name.”
That earned you a low grunt.
Yunho leaned forward and pushed his sweatpants down just enough.
And fuck—he was big. Thick. Veins running down the shaft. Heavy, dark, flushed and already leaking.
You stared for half a second too long.
San snorted. “Bitch saw God.”
Yunho grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you closer, cock brushing your lips.
“Open.”
You obeyed.
The first thrust was a tease—slow, just the head. You wrapped your lips around him, sucking softly, eyes locked on his face.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t praise. Just watched.
Then—thrust.
He slid halfway in and you gagged, hands flying to his thighs.
San clapped once. “There it is!”
Yunho didn’t pause. Just held your hair tight and fucked your mouth like it was his right. Deep strokes, thick and heavy, making your throat stretch and clench.
Spit slid down your chin. Your nose ran. Tears welled in your eyes.
You moaned around him.
“Fuck, she likes it,” San laughed. “Look at her. That’s a whore face.”
Your mascara smeared, black streaks trailing down as Yunho started grunting under his breath. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling your face all the way down until your nose was flush with his pelvis.
You choked.
And he held you there.
“Breathe through your nose,” he said calmly.
You tried.
You gagged again.
Spit bubbled at the corners of your mouth as he finally let you pull back with a wet gasp, drool stringing from your lips to his cock.
You barely had time to recover before he slapped it across your face. Once. Twice. Wet sounds echoing.
“Back down,” he ordered.
You obeyed. Again.
This time San knelt beside you, watching, fingers lazily stroking your nipple as Yunho used your mouth like a fleshlight.
“Sloppy little cum toy,” he whispered. “You gonna cry when he fills your throat?”
You moaned around the cock.
Your eyes were rolling back. Drool had soaked your tits. Your whole body buzzed like a wire—overstimulated and loving it.
Yunho finally pulled out, cock glistening with spit. Your jaw hung open, lips red, mascara dripping.
You were a mess.
“Turn around,” he said.
You did.
On hands and knees again, your ass high, thighs trembling.
Yunho stood behind you, phone in hand.
Click.
No shame. No warning. Just a full shot of your wrecked, spit-covered body and your perfect, round ass.
He stared at the screen, then said:
“I’ll keep this one.”
You shivered.
He leaned down, voice right by your ear.
“Gonna jerk off to it when I’m too busy to fuck you again.”
Your body was already wrecked—and they hadn’t even put their cocks inside you.
Your mouth was raw. Your cheeks were flushed. Your throat burned from deepthroating Yunho until your makeup melted and your pride leaked out with your spit.
You were on your hands and knees again, ass still raised from the photo he’d snapped. You didn’t know where your thong was. Your dress had vanished. Your tits were wet with saliva and tears.
But San hadn’t even had a turn yet.
Yunho sat back on the couch now, spreading his legs and watching you like a show. The front of his sweatpants were soaked with spit and precum, cock twitching lazily as he stroked it.
San stepped in behind you, sweat slicking his abs. You felt the heat of his body as he ran his fingers over your lower back, down to your ass.
"Pretty little fuckdoll," he murmured. "And she’s still tight."
He grabbed a fistful of your ass and spit—a thick glob that landed right between your cheeks and slid down to your pussy.
You moaned—humiliated and desperate and soaking wet.
He rubbed it in with his fingers, circling your entrance.
“You wanna cum again?” San asked casually.
"Yes," you breathed. "Please."
He laughed. “Tough.”
Then he pushed in. Two fingers, then three. Thick, rough, curling up and pumping fast, mercilessly.
You arched your back and let out a cry.
"Y-Yunho—!" you gasped without meaning to.
San slapped your ass hard. “Wrong dick, slut.”
You sobbed into the sheets.
"Try again," he hissed, thrusting his fingers harder.
"San—fuck—San please—I need it—"
"Need what?"
"Need your cock. Need it now, please, I’ll take anything—"
Yunho’s voice came from the couch, deep and cold.
“Don’t let her cum.”
San smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He pulled out his fingers and wiped them on your thigh. You screamed at the emptiness, body twitching like a broken wire.
“Please!” you sobbed. “I was close, please—!”
San just climbed onto the bed and pulled you into his lap, one hand tight around your neck. Not cutting air—just control. He leaned in, lips dragging over your cheek, your jaw.
“You cum when we let you,” he whispered. “Not a second before.”
Then he pulled your face to his cock.
"Now open up again. Show me how much you’ve learned."
The next minutes were a blur of spit, moans, and hands.
San fucked your throat while Yunho palmed your ass, spreading you open, sliding his fingers back inside while San held your head still.
San’s cock hit the back of your throat over and over—fast, sloppy, loud. His moans were rough, his grip harsh, and he spat down into your mouth mid-thrust like it was part of the routine.
"Swallow it, bitch."
You did. Didn’t even flinch.
Yunho watched, then got up. He was done waiting.
San pulled out just before he came, pushing you face down on the bed.
"Yunho’s turn."
You could barely breathe, mouth glossy with spit, lips swollen.
Then you felt it—Yunho’s cock sliding through your folds from behind, soaked, hot and thick and angry.
He leaned down, one hand wrapping around your throat from behind, the other bracing on the bed.
"You begged for it," he growled into your ear. "Now take it."
He slammed in.
Your scream was half-air, half-sob. You arched up, hands clawing at the sheets, as his cock filled you completely.
“F-FUCK—!”
“That’s right,” he snapped. “Squeeze my cock, just like that.”
His hips hit yours hard, steady, ruthless. He angled his thrusts until he hit your g-spot with every drive and still didn’t let you cum.
San stood nearby, stroking himself and smirking.
“Her pussy’s clenching so hard. Poor thing’s about to cry.”
“She’s not allowed yet,” Yunho grunted.
You were gasping, crying, begging—your voice raw, your pussy twitching around him, trying to milk his cock for relief that wouldn’t come.
“Please—please, Yunho—”
He slapped your ass hard.
"You’ll wait."
He edged you three times.
Pulled out every time you started to scream, left you twitching and leaking on the sheets.
By the time San slid in from behind, you were trembling, face buried in the pillows, voice almost gone.
He was gentler at first—but only to mock.
“Aww, poor baby. You gonna cry on my cock?”
You nodded, tears streaking down your face.
He smiled. Then fucked into you so deep you saw stars.
San didn’t edge you.
He made you cum so hard you screamed into the bed, full-body spasming, throat raw.
And right when you collapsed, Yunho was there, sliding back into your pussy from behind, fucking you through the aftershocks like you were just a hole.
Your orgasm turned to pain. The pain turned to more pleasure.
Your voice cracked, your vision blurred.
And when it was over—when your body had nothing left, not even shame—
Yunho pulled out and flipped you on your stomach.
Your ass was red, dripping, thighs shaking.
He picked up his phone again.
Click.
“Gonna keep another one,” he said flatly
He tucked it away like it was just a note.
You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
San sat beside your head, petting your hair.
“Next time,” he whispered, “we’ll let Mingi join.”
“You were made for this,” he said. “Made to be on your knees, gagging on cock.”
pairing: fem reader x ot8
genre: 18+, smut
summary: you’re mingi’s special gift, shared and adored by eight men who worship you fiercely. they push you to your limits, taking turns to claim and cherish you all night long.
wc: 6.2k
warnings: multi partener scenes, 3some, kinda gangbang, she's passed on from one another, oral sex (both f/m receiving), spanking, hair pulling, pussy slapping, choking, biting, deepthroating, gagging, use of restraints, cuffs, she is their fucktoy, kinda a lot of degradation (whore, slut, cumrag, cumdump, toy, used, fucktoy), some praise kink w degradation (good girl, mine, so good at taking us, dirty little slut), breeding kink, creampies, multiple orgasms (both f/m), cumplay, manhandling, lots of voyeurismic vibes cause all of the other members are watching while one of them has his way with her, she's a gift for mingi tonight and in my fic and vision he loves being seen by others while destroying someone idk, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!!), COMPLETELY consensual, for sure forgot something, might edit later.
author's note: ASSSSS i said above i feel like mingi would love being watched just as much as he'd love exhibitionism. i said what i said i liked writing this, more to come ! 😝
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.
The Adriatic Sea stretched endlessly around you sunlit and sapphire blue, its soft waves licking against the hull of the yacht like it worshipped the vessel. The air smelled like salt, citrus, and danger.
The yacht, named Velvet Vow, because of course Yunho and Mingi would name it something that sensual was nothing short of outrageous. A floating palace. Three sprawling decks, all polished teak and chrome, champagne stocked in every ice bucket, satin sunbeds scattered with linen pillows, and a private below-deck spa larger than your apartment in Seoul. The lounge alone was wrapped in tinted glass windows and dark mahogany velvet drapes drawn, silver accents everywhere, and custom leather seating that had hosted more than one after-hours sin.
You were barefoot on the upper deck, wind tugging at your sheer white robe, watching the sun melt into the Adriatic horizon. The sea shimmered like spilled gold. Everything was warm, lazy, slow. But you weren’t relaxed.
No. You were wound tight.
It was Mingi’s birthday, and you knew exactly what was coming.
From the moment you stepped aboard that morning, their eyes were all over you. Every man on this yacht, the eight that you managed, posed beside in editorials, flew with on red carpets had already fucked you in every way imaginable. You were their release, their secret, their reward. Their model and their manager. Their shared plaything.
But tonight… you were Mingi’s. And Mingi liked everything a little rougher. A little filthier. A little more. You knew he’d expect something special, and the rest of them? Oh, they were more than eager to deliver.
You could feel it when San passed behind you earlier, his hand trailing up the inside of your thigh beneath your robe, a whisper of touch, not even enough to react to. “You’ll behave tonight, won’t you?” he murmured.
You turned your head, meeting his gaze over your sunglasses. “I’ll be a gift.”
He smirked. “You always are.”
-
Now the sun was down and things had shifted. Heat still clung to your skin from the last of the day’s rays, but the atmosphere on the Velvet Vow was crackling.
The music had changed, slower, deeper basslines that vibrated through your chest. The boys were gathered below deck in the main lounge. Mood lighting had replaced sunlight, and shadows danced over their sharp features as they lounged shirtless, drinks in hand, and eyes always on you.
You stood at the edge of the room, robe still hanging off one shoulder, lingerie underneath barely visible. Your heels clicked softly against the marble floor.
“Y/N,” Yeosang said, nodding toward the hallway, “can you come with us?”
You followed. You always did. Not because you had to. But because you wanted to. Down a side corridor, through a dim-lit door, you found yourself in a room you hadn’t seen before. It was smaller, more intimate. A huge velvet chair sat in the center, ropes already looped into the arms. There were mirrored panels along one wall and a cabinet of neatly organized toys, soft restraints, leather cuffs, blindfolds, and sleek, buzzing things that made your thighs clench just looking at them.
“Surprised?” Seonghwa asked, voice soft. “We wanted something… private. For the start.”
You turned slowly, pulse ticking up. “For the start?”
He stepped closer. “You know what today is.”
“Mingi’s birthday,” you said, breath shallow.
“And what he wants most?” Yunho stepped in, eyes darkening. “Is you.”
“He’s always wanted me.”
“And tonight,” San added, reaching for the soft leather cuffs, “you’re completely his.”
You stared at him as he approached, tilting your head slightly, teasing. “What about you?”
“We’ll warm you up.” Jongho’s voice, so deceptively calm, came from your left. “Then we’ll watch.”
You wet your lips. “You’ll just watch?”
“For now,” he smirked. “Until he gives us permission.” The blindfold came next, thick black silk tied around your eyes by Wooyoung, his fingers brushing your cheek as he secured it. “Gorgeous even like this,” he whispered.
Your robe was slipped off your shoulders, slow and reverent, hands brushing your skin, warm breath at your neck. Someone unclasped your bra and the lace fell away, nipples stiffening instantly in the cool air. Then the cuffs tight but comfortable were locked around your wrists, arms drawn gently forward as you were guided back to the lounge. You heard the shift in the room before you felt it. The music faded. Conversation stilled. Then… laughter. Low. Male. Mingi.
“Oh… fuck me,” he groaned. “You really brought her in like this?”
“She’s yours,” Seonghwa said.
“She’s also.. wet already,” San added, a tease.
You shivered, standing blindfolded, cuffed, in black heels and matching panties in front of eight men who had seen and done everything to you. And still, you wanted more. You heard Mingi’s footsteps, slow and heavy, circling you. He didn’t speak. But his presence was molten.
“Sit her down,” he finally said. “I wanna watch.”
They guided you to the velvet seat in the center of the lounge, arms resting on either side, ankles gently parted. Your head tilted up slightly, your breathing shallow. You couldn’t see anything but you felt everything.
Then it began. Soft lips against your collarbone. Hands sliding slowly up your thighs. A tongue flicking over your nipple as you gasped, back arching while another pair of hands adjusted your panties, fingers dipping beneath the fabric just enough to make you tremble.
“She’s so soaked,” someone said.
“Of course she is,” Yunho murmured. “She lives for this.”
You whimpered, writhing as a vibrator small and precise pressed lightly to your clit through the lace. It wasn’t enough. But it was too much. And you knew it was either Yunho or Wooyoung playing with you.
“Don’t squirm” Wooyoung warned, breath hot against your stomach. “He hasn’t even touched you yet.”
Your fingers flexed in the cuffs. You wanted to beg, but you loved this too much to rush it. The toy circled slowly, maddening. Someone sucked your nipple hard enough to leave a mark. A finger traced your lips and you parted them instinctively, tongue brushing against it, moaning when it pulled away.
Seonghwa sweetly whispered in your ear, “He’s hard just watching you fall apart.”
You smiled blindly. “Then let him break me.”
That earned a groan. The toy was pressed harder, your panties damp and clinging to your folds now. Mingi silently signaled to someone to kneel in front of you. Two hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider. Someone knelt between your legs, warm breath ghosting your inner thighs and then a tongue flicked out. You moaned loud, spine curving forward.
“Taste her,” Mingi ordered.
They did. One was sucking your clit through your panties, another pulling them aside to slide fingers inside you, curling perfectly. A hand gripped your throat lightly, possessive. You loved that. Mingi hadn’t touched you yet. But you could feel his presence. Dominating the room. Watching you be played with. Used. Worshipped.
“Look at her,” Yeosang said. “She’s trembling.”
“She’s holding back,” San added.
“Barely,” Wooyoung grinned.
Then came the silence again. Tension thicker than the summer heat. And Mingi’s voice.
“Take it off.”
The blindfold slid away. He stood directly in front of you, shirt gone, chest heaving. Veins in his arms flexing as he unbuckled his belt with slow, deliberate precision.
You barely had time to breathe before he stepped closer, towering over you, cock already hard and heavy against his abs.
“On your knees,” he growled. “Time to show them who you really belong to.”
And you obeyed trembling, needy, and ready to be used. The air was hot with tension, thick with lust. The kind that made your lungs burn and your skin feel electric.
Your knees met the carpet without hesitation, that soft velvet under you no longer just luxury, but your place. You belonged there, on the floor, with every gaze locked onto you, every breath in the room quickening. Cuffs hung loose at your wrists now, teasing freedom, but you had no intention of using it.
Not when he was looking down at you like that. Mingi’s cock was hard in his hand, thick and glistening. Your eyes flicked to it instantly, mouth falling open without conscious thought. Your whole body responded, clenching, aching, trembling, just from the sight.
He ran his thumb over the head, catching the precum and letting it glisten before smearing it across the base. He knew you were watching. He wanted you to. You didn’t even blink.
“Look at you,” he rasped. “So fucking obedient.”
You bit your lip, barely resisting the urge to crawl closer.
“She’s already drooling,” Wooyoung noted from behind.
“Good girls wait to be told,” Mingi said, eyes never leaving yours. “Isn’t that right?”
You nodded, eyes wide. “Yes.”
His voice dropped to something molten. “Say it.”
“I’m a good girl,” you breathed. “and I wait for your cock.”
A growl tore from his throat. “Open your mouth.”
You did, slowly, with purpose, letting your tongue roll out between your lips, your jaw dropping wide.
“Goddamn,” Yeosang muttered under his breath.
Mingi moved forward. Just enough for his tip to brush your tongue. “Keep those eyes on me,” he ordered, one hand sinking into your hair. “I want to see them while I fuck that throat.”
The first push was slow. A tease. His head slid past your lips, stretching you open, dragging over your tongue with heat and weight. You moaned low around him, eyes fluttering just once before you forced them back open. That earned a sharp tug to your hair. Not cruel. A warning.
“Eyes,” he growled. “On me.”
You looked up, wet and wide-eyed, your lips stretching further as he pressed deeper. You gagged just slightly, a flutter of resistance, but you didn’t stop. You never stopped.
“Fuck, look at her,” Yunho said. “Taking it so well.”
Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked gently, worshipful. Mingi hissed between his teeth, his hips rocking forward just enough to make your throat flex.
“You like being watched?” he murmured, voice heavy with filth. “Like having them see you like this? Face fucked. Ruined?”
You moaned your answer around his length, unable to speak, but begging with your eyes. He pulled back, just enough to let you breathe.
“You were made for this,” he said. “Made to be on your knees, gagging on cock.”
You didn’t get a chance to respond. He thrust. Deep. The head slammed against the back of your throat, and you choked instantly, eyes watering, nose pressing into the sharp muscle of his lower stomach. He held you there. Just long enough to make your fingers twitch. Then he pulled back and did it again, harder this time. Spit spilled from your lips, gliding down your chin. Your jaw burned, throat clenching instinctively. But you took it. You always took it.
“Fucking filthy,” he snarled, beginning to thrust now, slow, hard strokes, hips snapping forward like he was claiming you with every pump. “You love this shit. Love choking, don’t you?” Your nails dug into your thighs, tears running freely now.
“Such a good little whore,” Mingi continued. “Gagging on my cock while they watch.”
You let out a broken moan, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful like this,” Seonghwa said. “A mess for him.”
You heard movement behind you, a zipper, a stifled groan. One of them was stroking himself. Maybe more than one. You didn’t care. You were too far gone. Mingi’s grip tightened in your hair. He was fucking your mouth now, no hesitation, no slow build. Just raw, possessive thrusts that had your throat swallowing him over and over again.
“You’re nothing but a cumrag right now,” he growled.
You nodded as best you could, eyes rolling slightly.
“Beg for it.”
He pulled out, leaving your mouth empty, lips puffy, drool dripping down your chest.
You gasped, coughing softly. “Please,” you whimpered. “Please fuck my mouth, Mingi. I need it. I need to choke on it…”
“You need to be used.”
“Y-yes..!”
“Then open wider.”
You obeyed. This time, when he thrust, he didn’t stop. Just buried himself to the base, again and again, your jaw stretching, throat raw, spit and precum coating your tongue. He fucked your mouth like it was the only place he belonged.
“Fuck, gonna fill that throat..” he grunted. “Wanna see you swallow it all.”
You moaned helplessly around him. Your whole body was shaking, thighs clenched, cunt throbbing. You weren’t even being touched down there, and you were close to coming just from this.
“Cumslut,” Mingi growled, breath hitching. “Look at you. Tears down your face, tongue stretched out and still begging.”
He slammed forward, groaning.
“I’m close. You ready, baby?”
You whimpered your answer. Then came the final thrust, brutal, deep, and a guttural groan from Mingi as he came. Hot, thick, all over your tongue. You swallowed around him instinctively, your throat milking him as he twitched in your mouth.
“Show me,” he gasped, pulling out.
You opened your mouth. Sticky trails across your tongue. A drop slid off your lip.
“Swallow it.”
You did. Throat working, cheeks flushed, chest heaving.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.”
Applause broke out behind you. Mocking. Aroused. Groaning. It was his birthday party, after all. You turned your head slowly and saw Yeosang and Wooyoung stroking themselves, Jongho panting, San sitting with his hand inside his boxers, eyes burning.
“You’re fucking incredible,” Seonghwa said.
And Mingi? He leaned down, cupped your jaw with one strong hand.
“You’re not done.”
You barely managed a nod.
“Get on the couch,” he ordered, voice low and rough. “Arms up. Legs spread.”
He ran a hand down your cheek and licked a drop of his cum off your chin.
“Time to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”
-
The room was too hot. Or maybe it was just your body, flushed and overwhelmed, muscles twitching as you crawled back toward the massive velvet couch like you’d been summoned. Because you had been.
Your throat was raw from the mouthfucking, lips swollen, chin soaked in drool. Mingi hadn’t touched your pussy once, and you were already on the verge of begging to come.
But he wasn’t in a hurry. He watched you as you climbed onto the couch, arms stretched along the back, legs open and knees bent just the way he liked. You were fully on display now. Lace panties soaked. Breasts flushed and marked. Body trembling with want.
You didn’t even try to hide it and that was what he loved.
“Stay like that,” he commanded, voice deep and low as thunder. “Don’t move a fucking inch.”
You didn’t. The boys made room around you, their eyes glued to your body. Some sat. Some stood. San was openly stroking himself now, his cock hard and twitching. Wooyoung looked glassy-eyed. Yunho was palming himself, slow and steady. Seonghwa’s lip was between his teeth.
You were their entertainment. But tonight, you were Mingi’s show.
He stepped closer, and your breath caught. Still shirtless, still flushed, abs flexing with every step. Then he dropped his pants fully, cock already stiff again, slick from your throat, and climbed onto the couch between your legs.
His hands gripped your thighs and yanked you down hard. You gasped.
“Mine,” he said.
Then he slapped your pussy through your panties. You jerked, moaning loud.
“Say it.”
“Yours,” you choked. “All yours.”
He slapped you again. Just once. Then pulled your panties to the side and buried two fingers inside you like he was testing the way you pulsed around them.
“Fucking soaked,” he murmured. “I didn’t even touch this pussy and it’s dripping. You really love getting used, don’t you?”
“Yes.. please, Mingi..”
He slid his fingers out and slapped your pussy again, bare this time. The sound echoed. The sting lit you up. You cried out, thighs trembling.
“I’m not here to listen to you beg. I own you tonight.”
He shoved his fingers back in, hard, fast, curling them perfectly against your spot, dragging another loud moan from your throat. Your hips bucked up.
Wrong move. He slapped your thigh.
“Did I say you could move?”
“N-no.. I’m sorry!”
“You will be.”
He climbed over you, large, solid, his hand wrapped around your throat now, holding you in place while he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance. Your breath caught.
“Look at them,” he ordered.
You tilted your head, barely able to move with his hand on your throat. They were watching. All of them. Staring at your spread body and Mingi’s thick cock rubbing against your folds, teasing the entrance again and again.
Mingi smiled, a wicked, dominant grin.
“Let them watch what happens when I ruin you.”
Then he shoved inside. You screamed.
Your back arched violently, the stretch was overwhelming, brutal, perfect. He bottomed out instantly, not giving you time to adjust. Your nails scratched into the couch, breath hitching as he held you there, deep and throbbing.
“Fuuuck,” he groaned. “So tight. Like you haven’t been fucked in weeks.”
“I haven’t,” you gasped, clenching around him. “Not like this..”
He leaned down, his lips at your ear. “That’s right. You wait for me.”
Then he pulled back and fucked into you hard. The couch creaked beneath you. Your thighs flew up, wrapping around his waist on instinct, but he shoved them apart again, pinning your legs wide.
“You don’t get to hide from me,” he growled. “Not this pussy. Not these tits. Not that fucking face when you break.”
He slammed into you again, and again, and again.
The room filled with sounds, skin on skin, wet heat, filthy moans. You were crying out with every thrust now, incoherent. And he never stopped talking.
“This pussy’s mine.”
“Say it.”
“Yours! It’s yours, Mingi..”
“Fucking right it is.”
He grabbed your wrists, pinned them above your head, and pounded into you harder. Your whole body rocked with every brutal thrust. You were sure the others could see your tits bouncing, the way your belly tensed, the way your pussy clenched his cock like it needed him.
“Take it,” he growled. “Take all of it. Fucking dumb on my cock.”
You nodded, eyes rolling.
“Tell me what you are.”
“Your toy..!”
“Fucking perfect.”
He leaned down, kissed you, hard and rough, all teeth and tongue, while he continued to rail you into the velvet, your legs shaking, breath catching. Then his hand moved back to your throat.
“Don’t come.”
You whimpered.
“Mingi! Please…”
“No. Not until I say.”
You nodded frantically, holding back, tears in your eyes. You were so close. So fucking close. Every thrust had your vision shattering, your core clenching down so hard it was nearly painful.nHe sat back on his knees.
“Look at her,” he said to the others, voice thick and breathless. “Look at this fucked out little toy. All for me.”
“Fuck,” Wooyoung muttered.
San stroked himself faster now. Jongho was groaning. Yeosang had his cock out and was leaning forward, hungry, desperate.
“You want it so bad, don’t you?” Mingi said, grabbing your hips and slamming into you. “You want me to fill this pussy? Let them see me claim it?”
“Yes! Please… fill me, Mingi.. please!”
“Beg me to come inside.”
“Please, Mingi! Come in me! I wanna feel you fill me…!
That broke him. He growled, low, rough, and fucked you even harder. His fingers dug into your skin. You screamed his name. The others moaned around you, all of them stroking, touching, watching as your body arched and convulsed beneath him.
Then, with a final brutal thrust, he came. Spilling inside you with a groan that felt like thunder. Your pussy clenched around the heat, milking it, greedy for every drop.
“Now,” he gasped, still inside you, voice trembling as he still fucked you through it.
“Come for me.”
And you did.
Your body snapped, head thrown back, walls spasming around his cock, legs shaking violently. The orgasm tore through you like fire, raw, shaking, endless. You screamed his name again. The room roared around you. And Mingi?
He stayed there. Deep inside. Throbbing. Pumping you full. Until you were nothing but a trembling, soaked mess, hair splayed, body twitching, cum already leaking from between your thighs.
“Fuck,” he said again, breathless.
Then he looked up. And smirked at the others.
“Now you can have her.”
-
Now.. the couch was soaked. Your body was ruined. And you weren’t even close to finished.
Mingi had emptied you, claimed you, left your cunt filled and twitching, and now he was leaning back, breathing hard, sweat glistening across his chest as he waved a hand lazily toward the others.
“She’s yours.”
San didn’t wait. He stood immediately, cock hard and already slick from his own precum. He walked toward you with a look that could break lesser women, jaw set, eyes gleaming, muscles tense.
You barely managed to lift yourself on trembling arms when he grabbed your hips, yanked you off the couch, and dragged you across the room like you weighed nothing..He dropped onto the long leather sofa that was on the opposite side of the room and pulled you face-down across his lap.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he ordered.
You did. He cuffed them again. You moaned at the click of leather.
“This is how I like you,” he growled, gripping the back of your neck and pushing your face into the sofa. “Helpless. Leaking. Desperate.”
He spread your legs wide with his knees and slid two fingers along your folds. Mingi’s cum was already dripping out of you, slicking his fingers.
“Fucking filthy,” he muttered. “You love being passed around, huh?”
“Yes,” you gasped. “Yes.. please, San,”
“Oh, you’ll get it.”
He grabbed your hips, lined himself up, and slammed inside you in one sharp thrust. You screamed.. again.
His cock felt different. Angled slightly up. He didn’t give you a second to adjust. His thrusts were brutal from the start, a punishing rhythm, fast and deep, your body bouncing with every stroke.
“Take it,” he snarled. “Take every inch, whore.”
He slapped your ass, hard. Again. Then again. Red handprints bloomed across your skin. You cried out, drool slipping from your lips, your hands clenched in the cuffs behind you.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted. “Even after Mingi… still squeezing like you belong to me.”
Your body was fire now. Every nerve buzzing. Every movement made your clit throb.
“I wanna come..” you whimpered.
“Not yet,” he hissed, pulling your hair to arch your back. “I’m not done with you.”
He fucked you until your thighs gave out, then flipped you over mid-thrust and mounted you again in his lap, this time looking right into your eyes.
“Look at them,” he said.
The rest of ATEEZ stood in a loose semicircle, dicks out, stroking themselves slowly.
“They’re waiting,” he said. “They’re gonna use you next.”
You clenched down hard.
“Fucking needy little slut,” he growled, slamming in deep.
Then his rhythm stuttered as he thrust upward in you multiple times and his breath broke, he cursed as he came, spurting inside you in hot, heavy bursts.
He pulled out slow, watching his cum leak down your thighs. And passed you to the next.
-
Yeosang didn’t say a word at first.
He approached silently, eyes locked on yours, slow, calm, precise. But there was fire in him. You could feel it burning beneath the surface.
He knelt in front of you, lifted your jaw, and studied your face.
“You look like art,” he murmured. “Ruined. Glorious.”
You whimpered, trying to crawl into his lap, but he stopped you.
“No. Hands behind your back.”
Still cuffed.
He moved behind you, sat back on his heels, and pulled your body flush into his chest, your back to him, legs spread wide over his thighs.
You were open like a gift. Bare. Wet. Glistening.
Then you felt it.
His cock, thick, velvety, sliding between your folds, teasing you.
“Say please.”
“Please, Yeosang, please… !”
“Good.”
He eased in slowly.
The stretch made your spine arch. Your whole body shook. He held your hips steady, breath soft against your ear.
And then he thrust. Deep. Sharp. Precise.
He didn’t pound like San. He pierced you. Every stroke deliberate. Every movement angled to hit the perfect spot inside you.
You gasped, head rolling back against his shoulder.
“You love this,” he whispered, his voice soft but dangerous. “Being opened like this. Marked. Used. Watched.”
You nodded helplessly.
He kept going. Slow at first, then building, the squelch of your soaked pussy getting louder.
“You're mine right now,” he said, voice tighter. “Only mine.”
He reached up with one hand, cupped your throat, and pulled your head back to kiss you hard as he fucked up into you, strokes growing more frantic, more desperate. He fucked into you helplessly, soft whines escaping his chest as he was getting closer and closer.
He came with a long, guttural moan, spilling inside you and holding you tight, cock still twitching.
Then he laid you down gently and backed away.
-
Your body was already numb, tingling, dripping, floating somewhere between pain and pleasure, when a hand touched your cheek.
Gentle. Cool. Then a kiss. Right at the corner of your mouth.
“Y/N,” came a voice like silk dipped in sin. It was Seonghwa.
He crouched in front of you, looking like something painted in gold, flushed skin, perfect jawline gleaming with sweat, cock hard and leaking against his stomach.
You blinked slowly.
“I thought… I thought I’d passed out,” you whispered.
His lips curled up. “You almost did.”
He ran a knuckle down your throat, slow.
“You look so fucking good ruined,” he said, voice barely above a breath. “All of us dripping out of you. Eyes dazed. Whimpering.”
He leaned down and kissed you deep, hot, slow, while his fingers found your pussy and slid through the mess.
“God, you’re flooded,” he groaned. “You’re going to feel us for days.”
You tried to move, tried to speak, but then he was laying you back, shifting your legs open, and sinking into you with a slow, deliberate push.
You screamed, again, legs kicking weakly.
“Too much?” he asked, even as he bottomed out.
You nodded. He just smiled.
“Good. You deserve too much.”
Seonghwa didn’t start with a brutal rhythm.
He started smooth.
Rolling his hips in deep, hypnotic waves, like he had all night and nothing else to do but make you come.
His hand reached up, traced your lips, then tapped them.
“Open.”
You obeyed.
He slid two fingers into your mouth.
“Suck.”
You moaned and obeyed, wrapping your tongue around them, hollowing your cheeks.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “I could keep you like this forever. Pretty little hole, cock-drunk and perfect.”
His pace didn’t speed up, it deepened. You could feel every stroke like it was being engraved into your bones.
You didn’t even realize you were coming again until moans tore from your throat, your pussy clenching hard enough to milk him.
He cursed and snapped his hips harder now, finally chasing his own high, fingers still in your mouth.
“Gonna fill you again,” he panted. “Right on top of the others. Want you dripping all the way down your thighs.”
You couldn’t respond, you just arched your back and took it. Seonghwa came with a strangled groan, cock pulsing deep inside, warm and heavy.
He pulled out slowly and kissed your stomach, chest, lips.
“You’re our masterpiece,” he whispered.
-
And then…
The couch dipped again.
Someone slid behind you. You didn’t even have to look. Hongjoong.
He wrapped an arm around your chest, pulling your body into his lap.
“Still with us?” he whispered.
You nodded weakly.
“Good,” he murmured, kissing your temple. “Because I haven’t even started.”
Then he bit your shoulder.
Hard.
You cried out, but it sent a spike of pleasure straight through your core.
“I’ve watched you take every one of us,” he whispered in your ear. “Watched you beg, choke, scream, shake.”
He grabbed your throat with one hand and dragged his cock through your soaked folds with the other.
“You’re not just a cumdump tonight,” he said. “You’re my fucking favorite toy.”
And with that, he slammed into you from behind.
You jerked in his arms.
“Hongjoong!”
“Shut the hell up and come again,” he growled, his thrusts sharp and fast. “I know you’ve got more left in you.”
You didn’t. But your body didn’t care.
He fucked you like he was trying to imprint his name inside you, hand gripping your throat, the other kneading your tits, his teeth dragging across your skin.
“Let them watch,” he hissed. “Let them hear you moan for me.”
The others were already whining again, some still stroking, some just watching, open-mouthed.
You were undone.
And Hongjoong was relentless.
He made you scream his name as your orgasm crashed down again, your body convulsing violently in his lap, and only then did he let out a broken groan and spill inside you, grinding his hips to make sure every drop stayed deep.
He held you there.
Wrapped in his arms, pulsing around him, twitching in overstimulation and bliss.
“Fucking perfect,” he whispered, forehead pressed to your shoulder.
Then he kissed your spine.
-
Wooyoung was already palming your jaw before Hongjoong even stood up.
“You look so fucking good like this,” he said, grinning. “I think I’m gonna fuck that smart little mouth.”
You barely had time to react before he knelt on the couch and pulled you up between his thighs, pushing your head forward.
“Open.”
You obeyed, and his cock slid across your tongue instantly.
“Good girl,” he cooed. “Let me see how deep you can take it.”
He didn’t wait long.
His hips rolled forward and he pushed in, past your lips, past your tongue, until you choked softly.
“Fuck yes,” he moaned. “I love that sound.”
His hands held your head in place as he began to fuck your mouth, filthy, wet thrusts, your nose bumping his pelvis, tears spilling from your eyes.
“Such a good little cocksleeve,” he growled. “Letting all of us use you like this. Letting me come in that perfect throat.”
You gurgled, barely able to moan. He fucked into your throat, feeling your mouth and tongue feel his cock up and down. He thrusted as deep as possible and stood like that for a long moment, his hand hovering over your throat from the outside.
“Fuck me… I can feel myself in your throat.” Wooyoung said and signaled Mingi to come and feel it.
“Holy… this feels unreal.” Mingi's cock twitched in his hand as his other hand was feeling your throat up and down.
You couldn’t take it anymore and swallowed around Wooyoung's tip, putting insane pressure on it.
He groaned, shuddered, and came suddenly, holding you there, deep, while he emptied himself.
You swallowed like it was instinct.
He pulled out slowly, thumb brushing the spit and cum from your lips.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re unreal.”
-
As soon as Wooyoung was also done with you and stood up, Jongho closed the distance between you and him.
Jongho didn’t speak much.
He just grabbed you. Picked you up.
Pressed you flat against the mirrored wall.
And fucked you standing up.
You couldn’t even cry out, the angle had your pussy clenching, stretched wide again as his cock filled you to the hilt.
His grip was bruising. His thrusts were relentless.
You were melting in his arms.
“Good?” he grunted, finally.
You nodded frantically. “Yes! Fuck… yes!”
“Take it.”
He fucked into you insanely fast and powerful, one of his hands holding you by your throat and the other one had you trembling under him as he circled your clit.
Your cunt clenched around him repeatedly and he came with a loud groan, holding you still while his cum mixed with the others inside you.
Then he kissed your temple.
“You did good, baby.”
-
Yunho was the last before Mingi returned.
He laid you down carefully.
Spread your legs wide.
And slid two fingers inside you, slow, reverent.
“You’re so fucking full,” he whispered.
Then he bent down and licked.
Your whole body convulsed.
He lapped at your pussy, devoured you like a feast, cum and slick and everything in between, until you were screaming, coming for the fifth time, begging him to stop.
He didn’t.
He kept going.
And then, only then, he climbed over you, lined up, and sank into your quivering cunt.
“I’m going to fill you again,” he whispered. “Because you absolutely deserve to be filled like a whore.”
You moaned, weak and limp, as he fucked you smooth, deep strokes holding eye contact the whole time.
He came with a groan, buried deep and then collapsed next to you.
-
You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.
You were soaked in cum, sweat, kisses, marks.
And then Mingi returned. Kneeling beside you. Smiling. You were trembling.
“Need a minute?” he asked, brushing your hair back.
You nodded faintly.
He kissed your cheek. Then scooped you up and carried you to the private cabin like you weighed nothing.
Eight men followed. To clean you. To hold you. To worship you. Because tonight…
You weren’t just their toy.
You were their heaven.
You didn’t even know when the world stopped spinning.
Maybe it was somewhere between Hongjoong’s bite and Jongho’s arms lifting you again. Or maybe it was the moment Mingi wrapped that towel around your body and pressed his lips to your forehead like you were something fragile.
The cabin below deck was glowing with dim lights. One of the boys had turned on soft music, jazzy, slow, and warm like honey.
You were in the center of the massive bed, tucked in a clean robe that smelled like sandalwood and their cologne, your hair still damp from the quick rinse they’d helped you through. Your skin glowed, marked with bruises, hickeys, fingerprints. But none of it hurt.
It all just… pulsed.
You blinked, barely able to hold your head up, when a warm palm cupped your cheek.
Mingi.
Clean now. Hair still damp. Shirtless, but wearing sweats that hung low on his hips. His lips were parted like he’d just exhaled for the first time in hours.
He looked at you like you were the most sacred thing on the yacht.
“You okay, baby?”
You nodded slowly, your voice hoarse. “Sore. But… really, really good.”
He chuckled, low and deep. “Yeah? You did so fucking well.”
He leaned in, brushed his lips across your forehead.
Then lower. Your cheek. Your collarbone. Your chest.
His hands moved with reverence, not lust, smoothing over your arms, checking the red cuffs marks, rubbing gently over your thighs.
“I’ve never seen anything like you,” he whispered. “I swear I’ll remember tonight for the rest of my fucking life.”
You smiled faintly, eyes fluttering shut as he curled beside you on the bed and pulled you to his chest.
The room was quiet. Warm. The other boys had dispersed, some showering, some resting, some still pacing from the high.
And yet, when Mingi held you…
You finally melted.
His fingers rubbed your scalp. His other hand stayed at your waist, drawing lazy shapes against your robe.
“You want anything?” he murmured. “Water? Ice pack? More cuddles?”
“Just you,” you mumbled.
“You got it.”
Maybe twenty minutes passed, maybe more.
Eventually, you felt stronger. The soreness faded into a warm ache. You stretched slightly in his arms.
“Mm. Jacuzzi?”
Mingi grinned against your hair. “You read my mind.”
The top deck of the yacht was quiet, the Adriatic night sky above, full of stars, the sea calm and silver around you.
The hot tub steamed in the moonlight, a soft glow illuminating the bubbling water. The deck was still scattered with empty glasses and half-shed towels, but everything felt serene now, like the chaos had transformed into something sacred.
Mingi helped you in first, both of you naked now, skin against skin, water up to your collarbones.
“Better?” he asked, settling behind you.
You leaned back into his chest, his legs on either side of yours.
“Perfect.”
The heat soaked into your muscles. Every bruise eased. Your head tipped back onto his shoulder and you sighed.
“You really didn’t expect all that, huh?” you teased, voice rough.
Mingi chuckled. “I expected something. I didn’t expect to fall in love with it.”
You blinked slowly.
“Fall in love?”
“With the way you looked when I told them to start. With how fucking sweet you were when you cried around my cock. With how strong you were when all of them, when we..”
He broke off, then kissed your jaw.
“I just mean… you’re everything.”
You turned your head, kissed him gently.
His hands slid under the water, resting on your thighs, just holding.
Not wanting. Just being.
Moments later, soft splashes came from the side.
“Room for more?” Wooyoung asked with a grin.
One by one, the boys joined you, towels dropped, heat rising, laughter floating between the bubbles.
San leaned back with a bottle of champagne. Yeosang poured some for you.
Hongjoong slipped into the water beside you and passed you strawberries from a nearby tray. Seonghwa kissed your shoulder and settled beside Mingi.
You were surrounded.
Safe. Loved.
Wrecked.
And glowing.
Mingi tugged you closer again and whispered against your ear, lips curling up.
a/n: couldn't have done this without @eightmakesonebraincell's and @chronicvagabonds' validation lmao also tribute to tite kubo for coming up with the juiciest dialogues, some of which i quoted here
Hongjoong
The Manipulator
hongjoong always knew he had leadership skills
from being the team leader whenever he played games as a young child, to growing up and eventually influencing people
he was often told that he has a certain way of pulling people’s attention and leave something stirring inside them with his words
so it is no surprise that hongjoong is where he is today. a renowned businessman, philanthropist and… politician
hongjoong adjusts the sleeves of his shirt and glances at you from the mirror
you are standing behind him, holding his coat for him. he wears it with a proud smile and holds his chin high
“tonight is very important. for me. for this country.”
he goes on about how there will be people from all over the country
people who are the foundation of this nation. people who care about the future of this world
and if you weren’t so blinded by the adoration you have for this man you would have called him delusional
but the fact is that you are deluded by him. hongjoong has the ability to cast a spell with his words
he feeds his supporters the lie of a better world in the near future, and they bow to him
hongjoong smiles devilishly at the thought of what entails the events of tonight
he can picture it clearly- the cheers and desperate screams of his followers as he steps on the podium
the cries of these people, as helpless as sheeps in a herd, waiting for an upright politician to save this nation
he can feel the thrill just imagining what it will be like tonight when he addresses the nation as the new face of his political party
to a common person, he would just be another man with a good heart striving for a better change
but the common person is weak, and for them… he is their salvation
they will hear his words tonight- words he has carefully crafted himself. the cues will register in their minds, and they will end up seeking him to announce their undying support and loyalty, to shower in his glory
you straighten hongjoong’s coat and smooth over his shirt, your hands unsteady with anticipation
“aren’t you happy to be right next to me when i conquer the stage tonight?” he whispers, lifting your chin up
you meet his eyes and he can see his answer there
you hope he doesn’t see the conflict in your eyes. the conflict is to be concealed in your heart, in the deepest, untouchable corner of it
you are blessed, they tell you, to be the politician’s favoured
and you are- you truly are. hongjoong loves you. he adores you
in fact… he’s almost obsessed with you
and why wouldn’t he be? you were the one who led him here
you were the one who held his hand and showed him the right path- his partner, and now his secretary
oh, how you sometimes wish you could turn back the hands of the clock and go back to when hongjoong was hopeless and thought that the world was a wretched place beyond saving
that is when you told him that the only way to run this world was to join hands with the elites of this nation- or to become one
it must be the fates that led him to where he is today
after all, isn’t he a king without a crown? a ruler without a throne?
he is a born leader and a strategist. he has always been good with his words
it’s how he earned the favour and graces of the elites and the politicians and made a place for himself- not under them, but beside them
but to stand beside those people, you have to be a little… corrupt. and morally ambiguous
the world is not run by saints, after all
“sweetheart?” he calls when he sees you are distracted
you don’t miss the warning tone in his voice. tonight, you have to be on your toes
you have to seek out willing supporters and show them that they mean the world to hongjoong and his political party
but more importantly… you need to target other politicians, find their weaknesses and if lucky, have some join hands with you
“i’m here,” you tell him and he nods firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple
“i will see you tonight,” he promises, and you know what he means
he always gets such a thrill out of playing the leader
he gets so much energy, and he has to take it out one way or another
and what better way to take it out in the form of lovemaking?
you feel warmth course through your body as he trails his finger down the middle of your chest purposely
he almost smiles maniacally as he leaves first, giving you a moment to gather your wits
you pour yourself a glass of drink- you can’t possibly do this sober
you join hongjoong as he gives his first speech- a very normal talk about how this nation is on the verge of collapse
corruption, crime, inhumanity, dirty politics? you name it
you admire his resilience, really. whatever he is talking about comes straight from his heart, and he has been talking about these issues for a long time now
you also admire his pompousness and the audacity to talk about dirty politics, when he is the face of dirty politics
you join the audience when they clap for him, your heart full of pride
there is a break where he meets with the high-profile people and asks them to consider joining hands with him
‘to make a better world for the future generations’. such inspiring words from such a young political leader
except hongjoong’s trick is that he always, always has something over them
he has a team dedicated specifically for this task- to dig dirt on his political targets so he can wield them like the blade of a guillotine over their heads
despite his evil means to climb the top, somehow, his image and reputation remains far too clean
and that is because he knows to take these actions behind the scenes, away from any eyes
a true politician, he’s been dubbed
it is about midnight when the hall almost empties, leaving only the members of your party and some new faces- people who are willing to hear him out and decide if they want to join his party
you wish you could tell them that it is a trap- hongjoong will promise that their efforts and support will lead them to something great
‘the greater good’, he always says, except these people do not know what they are getting into
they are merely sacrificial lambs, the stepping stones that will lead hongjoong closer to his utopia
they will, for the sake of loyalty, put a blindfold over their eyes. they will hold him in high reverence as he becomes their lord, their saviour
he will feed them copper pellets and claim that this is the best that they can get while he himself sits on a throne made of gold
and when they empty every last drop of whatever they have to offer- their blood, sweat and tears
hongjoong will discard them without remorse. that is who he is- a master manipulator
when you are done wrapping up the event in the deep, dark hours of the night, hongjoong finds you in your bedroom
his chest is heaving with energy that is threatening to combust from within him
he outstretches his hand and you saunter over to him
his hands are dominating when he holds you, though his kiss is soft and unrushed
until that too becomes scalding hot
he is quick to lead you to the couch where you sit on his lap, finding him painfully hard
he groans loudly and starts to unbuckle his pants, and you instantly know what he wants- you always know what he wants
he easily slides his hard length inside your warmth and groans heavily in relief, resting his head back and just letting you both stay still
you only move to rest your head against his shoulder. he can have you like this for as long as he wants
“we have a lot of new supporters tonight,” he begins, chuckling deeply, “the polls seem to be in our favour too.”
his dark curls caress your face as you snuggle against him
“we also managed to score deals with many influential politicians and businessmen tonight,” he tells you and you look at him with pride as he names them
“soon,” he begins, trailing his hands under your dress and squeezing your thighs, “soon… we will have our people in every sector- in business, healthcare, industrial, courts… we will be controlling the nation- we… we are the leaders of this nation.”
his cock twitches inside you as he finishes that sentence and you bite your lips in thought
“what are you thinking, love?” he asks, caressing your face
“i just sometimes wonder,” you begin- can you admit your bare thoughts to him?
he squeezes your thigh as a sign to go ahead
“i wonder how we got here, joong,” you admit, “you know that we are exploiting people-”
“for the greater good-”
“for the greater good, yes,” you finish, nodding and he furrows his brows in concentration
“these people are just like us. we were once slaves of this society, but now we are the leaders. and they are our slaves. but…”
“they will offer us what they have,” hongjoong replies softly, “and we will make the best out of it. isn’t that right?”
you nod. there is no more space for any more questioning
you have never like the darkness in his eyes when you question his- your- methods
all he knows is that he is right
he knows what he is doing is wrong in essence, but it is about the bigger picture- he is doing this for his nation
and you cannot expect to run a nation claiming to be a saint
the nation is run by wolves, and to make space there, you must be some sort of a predator. that is who he has become
his grip on your thighs tighten and he starts to grind your body on him
between the sounds of pleasure is the groan of pain as he spanks your thighs and remind you of your place
“all you have to do is follow me,” he breathes into your ear, trailing his lips across your cheek. “all you have to do is stay with me. together…” he thrusts hard inside you. “together, we will rule the world one day, you and i.”
you nod and he swallows your moans as he kisses you, thrusting with all his might until you both come crashing down
he takes you to the shower and you both quickly clean up and get in bed
as you watch his figure relax and succumb to sleep, you confess to him
“you are a great politician, hongjoong,” you tell him and the corners of his lips curl in a smile. “i’m just afraid of going too far with you. every day, we learn that we can get worse than we are, yet…”
“yet, it has become my addiction and my duty,” he whispers, hand finding your bare arm and caressing it. “don’t you want to rule the world?”
“you will rule the world. i will be treading on your shadow, following you closely and sharpening my teeth… but afraid.”
“afraid of what?”
“of you,” you breathe and he opens one eye
“you won’t leave me, will you?” he asks innocently, yet it is there- the warning in his tone
you are responsible for who he is today. you are an accomplice
every person he ruins to get closer to the top, you are equally responsible for it
“of course not,” you tell him, “i can’t leave you.”
hongjoong notices your choice of words
you can not leave him- you do not have a choice
he holds you close and kisses you like he means it that night
it would be such a shame if he would have to throw you away after all of this, right?
it would truly be such a shame if you are just like the others in the end- weak and helpless
since you know exactly what is going on inside hongjoong’s head, you tell him you love him like you really mean it and you let him hold you close
it may be a trap, but you don’t mind being trapped if this is where you end up every night- in his arms
your lord, your saviour
The Manipulator and the Manipulated
Seonghwa
Jekyll
park seonghwa is a man who is adored wherever he goes
be it at work- at a prestigious university as a neuroscience professor, dr. park, or at social gatherings, formal or informal
he is a man born with the best manners, the most caring and generous heart
you’ve seen him around the department as a masters student and attended a few of his classes
but you never got to interact with him personally until it’s time to choose a thesis supervisor and you learn that you have a chance with him
it’s purely because he’s amazing at what he does
your subfield matches with his specialty so it will be better if he’s your supervisor (and it’s only a bonus that the man is painfully hot so you’ll never be bored)
your professor recommends you to seonghwa and he goes over your synopsis which leaves him intrigued because coincidentally, he’s researching in molecular neuroscience as well
he gladly takes you on because he believes you both will be helping each other along the way
plus, he recognises your name- you’ve always had a different air about you (and he remembers you from somewhere else too)
he’s looking forward to working with you, that’s all
so when you arrive on your first day as his supervisee and research assistant
you catch him in his natural habitat- unaware of his surroundings, humming a tune to himself and swiping his hair hurriedly to the side with the hand that’s holding a clear solution of some sort while struggling not to drop his notes on the table that has a few microscope slides
basically, moments away from a disaster
he spots you and grunts as if asking for help and you immediately drop your bag to rush towards him, only now noticing that somehow, he’s holding his glasses by his teeth
you first take those out of his mouth and he groans in relief. “can you please help me wear my glasses? those cultures are moments away from expiring.”
“oh goodness,” you mutter and you lock eyes with him as you put on his glasses for him
and your intrusive thoughts take over because you simply cannot take how his hair is poking his eyes so you gently brush his hair out of his eyes
for a moment, time is frozen for all sorts of reasons
before seonghwa takes a deep breath and you blink, immediately getting out of his way and holding his notes for him
the notes apparently hold the readings on how much solution he needs to pour so you read it for him and consequently save him from a disaster
as soon as he is done freezing the cultures, he holds the edge of the table to save himself from slumping in relief
and you share a laugh, the ice breaking just like that
he tells you that the student assigned for taking care of the cultures had an emergency and he had to rush from another department
and he thanks you for helping him
you both move to his office to go over your thesis and he helps you create a timeline
you wrap up the meeting with a clear direction of what’s next and with a schedule of shifts where you will be assisting him
it doesn’t take long to get used to being a part of his team of five calm students with a little streak of crazy
and you suppose dr. park has an eye for people like that because you fit right in
you are all very dedicated so he seems to be at ease when you are working, though he does monitor you more closely since you’re new
you start to spend more time in the lab simply because you like how it feels there
it is like a little cocoon where you can tune out the rest of the world and work on your thesis without distractions (plus, it helps how people from your team pop in once in a while to throw some suggestions at you)
you like how it is there- neat and clean
the sound of metal against metal, glass against glass. the smell of the cleaning agent which calms you since it is something familiar now
and then there’s dr. park himself, gentle and composed, yet at times clumsy and rough which results in the room cackling with laughter
however, there’s a side to him that you only see when you’re alone with him
you’re not sure if he’s like that with everyone- he must be, right?
does he pay as much attention to everyone else as you?
perhaps, you’re delusional. that must be it
seonghwa knows you must think that, because he has not been very obvious but he has not been subtle either
it’s just that he remembers you from that time. he remembers seeing your face in his friend wooyoung’s data
wooyoung, who is an expert at singling out people like them
people like seonghwa who have a little streak of crazy in them, yet manage to be a part of the society almost seamlessly
wooyoung’s company does a good job at managing these people because they ultimately help the black market grow
seonghwa is half convinced wooyoung’s company is just a faction of the government but of course he can’t confirm that
all he knows is that he cannot act out too much and get caught
in return, he knows when someone like him is in his radar
here you are, glasses perched on the tip of your nose as you examine different slides under the microscope, muttering to yourself about the readings as your scribble them
he can’t help but notice how you always wear that one specific shade of deep red on your lips or how your hair falls in the most irresistible way in front of your face
he’s never looked at a student this way- ever- but you’re not just a student now, are you?
so when he makes his move, approaching you from behind as silently as he can
he’s not disappointed when you turn- he didn’t make a sound, yet you knew
you’re not even surprised, and that excites seonghwa to no end
“ah, dr. park,” you go casually, as if him sneaking behind you was normal behaviour. “can you approve of these hypotheses?”
seonghwa hums and stands awfully close to you, your sides brushing against each other
he purposely crowds in your personal space as he leans in to confirm the readings of the specimens on the table
“everything’s perfect,” he announces, meeting your eyes
you’re still sitting so you have to look up at him and lord. what a sight he is even from this angle. you could totally get used to it-
“what are you looking at, sweetheart?” seonghwa smirks knowingly
you have to physically struggle to maintain your composure because you are pretty sure you were gawking
“nothing, just zoned out,” you say, which isn’t a lie but not the whole truth either
he knows though. he knows the effect he has on you because he hasn’t been subtle
from the casual touches to the unnecessary (but not undeserved) praise
from the prolonged eye contact to the suggestive smirks
there is something electric between the two of you, an undeniable tension
and while you’re not one who sticks to the rules, you can’t help but wonder just why is dr. park playing with you?
“you sure you’re okay?” seonghwa leans in and searches your eyes for any signs of lies
upon finding none but gaining satisfaction from the way your lips part in surprise, he draws back
you try your best not to make things awkward for the rest of the time you’re with him
and in the following days, his advances only start becoming stronger in nature
you like the attention he gives you. you like how he always puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a little squeeze whenever he finds you sitting
you like the way his warm breath caresses your cheek when you’re both sitting side by side inspecting a specimen
you enjoy the sound of his gentle voice as he instructs you
it’s almost as if he knows. it’s almost as if he’s asking for it
does he not know that once you become obsessed with something, you’ll try- no, you will possess it at all costs?
so one night when you’re both working at late hours, busy with wrapping up one section of your thesis
you can’t take it when seonghwa scolds you teasingly for being clumsy
“you’ve got pen on your chin,” he says and before you can take care of it, he himself scoots closer-
too close for it to be professional anymore because at this point, he can probably count the freckles on your face too-
and begins to rub at your the skin near your lips gently
he frowns when it doesn’t come off, and then he has the audacity to lick his thumb and rub your skin again
“dr. park,” you mutter, about to remind him how you are supposed to be a teacher and student
you’re not friends (despite the very friendly relationship you have developed with him)
seonghwa only hums and you can’t help but notice how he stifles a smirk as he moves his thumb to your lower lip and swipes it, all the while maintaining eye contact
you raise a brow in challenge, silently questioning why he’s still holding your chin
he leans in as if to kiss you and you stop breathing
except he tilts his head to whisper in your ear
“would you like to attend the next soul society meeting with me, love?”
to say that you freeze is an understatement
you don’t move when his lips caress your cheeks as he stays in that position
you don’t move when he purposely trails his lips along your cheek as he draws back
“what’s your classification?” you manage to ask, your voice barely a whisper
the way seonghwa smirks is something you’ll never forget
“jekyll,” he says. “nice to meet you, hyde.”
there’s a moment of silence where all you can do is stare at the man in front of you
a moment of pure static
as soon as you take off your mask and your lips curl in a smirk, it happens
you don’t know who took the first step but you’re both kissing each other
it’s rushed, passionate and desperate, the air filling with your grins and giggles and you’re only glad you’re not in the lab right now because the way seonghwa clears the table with a swipe of his hand, making the notes fall on the ground
only to lift you up and seat you there so he can kiss you better? being in the lab would have done some damage alright
between kisses, you learn how seonghwa recognised you
you ask him if he lured you here somehow, but he tells you it’s just luck that you’re here as his student right now. you don’t quite believe him though
but you let it be- if he’s jekyll, that means he’s got the brains to scheme
he tells you that he’s glad to have found his hyde because he would prefer someone else to do his dirty work for him
you agree- it’s been far too long since you’ve had an adventure, and you’ve heard about the notorious jekyll in the soul society too. you just never connected the dots
he takes you to his private lab (not before feasting on you and fucking you on that very table)
for the next few weeks, you familiarise yourself with his actual research
mind altering chemicals and drugs, anything to do with control
very illegal stuff, but the soul society funds him with whatever he needs
he can’t believe he found you- you’re perfect for him
seonghwa believes he has morals and he can be a good person
so you make the perfect partner because you can be the bad person in his stead
you’re his alter ego, the voice in his head that he never lets come out
you’re the person who not only matches his freak but helps bring it into manifestation. you are now his face
while he advances in molecular neuroscience in the world, you advance, on his behalf, in the underworld
there’s no blood on your hands- you both only produce drugs. you’re not responsible for what is done with them
you do sometimes assist in the practical work, which seonghwa avoids, because after all, he has a reputation to maintain as dr. park
no one suspects a thing. you’re just supervisor and supervisee who share a similar obsession with research
nothing to worry about
Jekyll and Hyde
Yunho
The Hunter
when you finally got to a blind date that your friend begged you to go to, you didn’t expect to meet a man who would actually catch your eye
there is something about this man, jeong yunho, that instantly pulls you in as if you really are tied by a thread
for starters, he is incredibly handsome and has a soft vibe to him that exudes warmth
his voice has a soothing quality and his mannerisms are as gentle as his gaze. his laugh is pure and he makes quite a good company
he just makes you feel comfortable and safe right away, which is kind of surprising
so when yunho tells you about himself, confirming that he is indeed a corporate lawyer at a well-known firm, you are simply in awe
you thought your friend was bluffing when she told you that she is trying to set you up with a ‘beauty with brains’
she was not lying, is all you can think now
you’re a simple school teacher, you tell yunho with a laugh
however, the man’s eyes are practically twinkling as he hears your stories about school
you’re only telling him because he insisted, and now he can’t stop appreciating your profession, saying that it’s admirable how you are able to connect with children and educate them
the conversation steers to your likes and dislikes, your preferences, and what you’re looking for in a partner
surprisingly, the two of you have a lot in common
you both have a special place in your heart for food. you both love travelling. and there are some things he does not need to say out loud
like how he’s a caring person- always making sure you’re comfortable and your bowl is full, draping his coat over your shoulders when you leave the restaurant and scour the streets for something sweet
the hand that he offers you is not suggestive and you like that (you also like how tall he is and how his hand engulfs yours almost entirely)
just two people who talk about anything and everything- that’s who you become by the end of the night
as you settle in bed later, you’re still smiling about how his eyes twinkled when he learned that you too have a thing for gaming too
you have good feelings about this person so far but there’s a feeling scratching at your heart that has you restless
it is the way his eyes darkened almost dangerously, only momentarily, when you insisted that you could get home on your own
he was a gentleman, no doubt about it, insisting that you could never be too sure these days especially with the news being so horrible lately, the crime rate spiking up dramatically in the past few months
you just did not like the idea of having a stranger accompany you all the way to your home, even if it was this gentleman- this was only your first meeting
so he made you promise to call him and let him know when you get home
and here you are. you dated him for a few months before you both decided to move in together into an apartment that suited your needs
he’s perfect in every way- attentive, responsive, caring, funny, and he gives you space when you need it
which matters the most because you value your personal space a lot
he understands the importance of personal space very well and even though you share a room, you both let each other be
you let him be when he’s gaming, and he lets you be when you’re staring at the ceiling or reading
more often though, he’ll have you sit on his lap as he games
since he’s so much bigger than you, you’ll curl on top of him to read or scroll and he’ll be focused on his game, liking your presence
it doesn’t always lead to something but when it does, it’s always fun
he has you smitten- his kisses still make you feel like it’s your first time sharing a kiss (and he’s damn good at it)
his touch lingers on your skin throughout the day and you cannot wait to be back in his arms again
it is just another night when you decide to walk and take the longer route back home because apparently yunho was going to be late and you did not want to be home alone
it gets quieter as you navigate through the streets and alleys
and when you take a turn and notice a familiar figure, you stop in your tracks
is that… not yunho? the back and the height looks pretty much the same
the man is watching a woman at the end of the street who is using her phone as if waiting for someone
the woman catches the man watching her and grows wary- you can tell even from the distance
you can tell that she is very much pretending to be on call when she starts moving
despite every cell in your body urging you to ignore this and go back home, you start to follow the man when he starts to follow the woman
you are careful to maintain a distance, cursing yourself internally for being a curious little shit who seeks thrill like there’s no tomorrow
but the woman takes a left, and the man takes a right, leaving you standing in the middle of the street, taking a few deep breaths
nothing happened, you think. you turn and start to trace your path back
and just a minute later, there’s an unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream filling the air
every hair on your body rises as your heart drops and eyes widen
you’re frozen in one spot with no idea what to do next- should you go check on the woman? see if it was the same person?
not once do you think of calling the police though
you walk back home, lost in your thoughts with the image of the man’s familiar figure branded in your mind especially since you are pretty damn sure that those were little sunflowers embroidered on the hem of the hoodie
sunflowers that you embroidered on yunho’s hoodie
when you open the door to your apartment, though, you hear the sound of the TV and yunho is sitting very casually on the couch
“ah, you’re home,” he grins and waves, just like he usually does
he’s not wearing the hoodie anymore
“i thought you were gonna be late?” you ask
“you’re late,” he counters. “why did it take you so long to get home?”
“just decided to take a walk,” you smile, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on the top of his head before going to your room
you grab your clothes and move towards the bathroom to take a shower, and it is then that yunho’s eyes widen
“ah, babe?” he calls, his voice uncharacteristically high
when you don’t answer, he rushes towards the bathroom and finds you standing in the doorway
your eyes are fixed on the sink which is a pale shade of pink with handprints on it
yunho curses himself internally- he rushed to hide his hoodie as soon as he got home, jumped in the shower, spotted the bloody sink from when he first washed his hands and decided to make it look like he had been home for a while before cleaning the sink
only he fucking forgot
it doesn’t look as bad- it’s not a bloody red, for starters
“ah, i forgot to clean that up,” yunho awkwardly laughs, proceeding to move inside and open the tap, taking a sponge and cleaning the edges of the sink
yeah. it does not look that bad
“i accidentally spilled that red ink you have in the room- i don’t know why i got curious and messed with it.”
that’s not the colour of your ink, though, and you know it never leaves stains like these
“don’t worry about it,” you tell him, but your eyes are wider than usual. yunho notices that
he lets you shower in peace, all the while thinking if you suspect something
truth be told, he saw you when you were following him back there which is why he took another turn to mislead you
he also knows you are far too observant for your own good
he can’t lie- one of the reasons he fell for you is because of that. you are just like him
though you are free of sin unlike him, your mind is a mess
you notice too much that is not meant to be noticed. you sometimes say things that even he has not thought about. you question if human morals are an actual thing or a made up construct
is it from reading too much fiction? he thinks not
when you come out of the shower, something possesses you to move to the balcony
and that’s another thing yunho likes about you (which also scares him a little at times)
it is your intuition- which leads you to inspect the little corner where you pile up useless stuff. you can see the sleeve of his hoodie there
you pick it up and find it wet in certain spots
on its black base, you can’t tell what it is, but the sunflowers are stained a suspicious red colour, and it’s definitely not your ink
you look towards your right where yunho is standing, vigilant
there is a moment of silence before you lower the hoodie
“it really was you,” you say, unwavering
your heart is not speeding because you’re scared- it is speeding because you are right
yunho is still, contemplating how to deal with this
did he think he could hide his secret from you forever? no. was he prepared in case he gets caught? no
he just never imagined it would unfold like this
and now… will he have to hurt you if you threaten to expose him? he can’t bear to hurt a hair on your head
you bring out all the good in him. he does not know how you do that, but you make him believe that he can love with all of his heart too, just like any other person
you make him feel whole, and it would be such a shame if things fall apart now
to his surprise, you drop the hoodie back and walk towards him until there’s little distance between the two of you
you hold both of his hands in yours and look at him earnestly
“are you going to tell me what you have been up to?”
yunho is surprised at how calm your voice is and how accepting your eyes are
he sighs deeply before steering you to the couch in the living room
and then he bares his heart to you
he is a monster. that is it. he hurts people and it satisfies this ugly part of him
he does not always want to, he justifies, but sometimes, he just can’t help it
and the only reason he gets away with it is because he is not stupid and carefully chooses his victims- people who are miserable. people who have no one around them
“well then… i’m lucky to have one person in my life, right?”
yunho’s eyes widens at your response
you fulfil the criteria of being his victim- you have no one
you have no one but him- how did that happen?
he thinks back to your first date and he can’t help but feel overwhelmed
he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his head about to explode
why are you not running away from him? why are you caressing his head and holding him close?
you don’t tell him everything right away. you only ask him to trust you
so he trusts you and waits for you
he learns little bits about you- you, who do not care who yunho is, as long as he is transparent with you
you, who has a twisted sense of morality. you, who might be as bad as yunho, even worse
though, your hands are clean, you tell him sarcastically, it’s just your head that is a mess
and it’s a blessing that you two are together and can be honest about this too, right? how lucky you are to have each other
“you, without sin, are like the sun,” he tells you one night as he kisses the top of your head and holds you close
“you, even with sin, are like the sun,” you respond.
The Hunter and His Guide
Yeosang
The Mad Scientist
there is something about the innocent features of his face, the gentleness in his mannerism, the absolute ethereal aura about him
that contrasts strikingly with the pitch black (or maybe, just two shades lighter) of his soul
the man only knows how to scheme and how to take the best possible route towards his goals
the goals are all related to science
sure, he is contributing to the scientific area, doing researches no one else would do
doctor kang yeosang- a scientist and philosopher, held in high reverence in the medical field, contributing with numerous researches centering the human body
nobody needs to know exactly how he gets such extensive, solid results to support his theories
he comes off as a soft-spoken man, someone who possesses a kind heart
he is willing to overwork himself in order to make life easier for others
he is much appreciated by his peers
they don’t need to know that behind his neat and professional setup is a dark, cold space that holds his real workspace
the endless corridors lined with shelves upon shelves of jars
jars containing the human body parts within them
from the brain to the spleen, from the heart to the liver
each jar meticulously lined in an organisation such that only yeosang could close his eyes and know where to pick what he needs
each organ in the jar has a story of the human that it once was- the story that yeosang himself scribes and tucks in the safe (and in a corner of his heart)
taking it out only to read and reminiscence, or to make another addition
such as the one that he is about to make now, sauntering with an almost skipping manner, highlighting his delight in the events about to unfold
his pristine white lab coat flows behind him, a symbol of everything that he would not be doing tonight, which only adds to the irony of it all
he finds you mirroring his expressions, eyes wide with anticipation and lips curled in a stifled smile
and he can’t help but smile wider, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly as he speeds towards you so that he can finally hold you after the long day he had, tired of playing it cool in front of everyone
you are snaking your arms around his neck immediately as he bends down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, earning a surprised but pleased yelp from you
you let him have his moment, kissing him back with equal passion until he draws away and rests his forehead against your shoulder
“long day, huh?” you press your lips against his temple. “how did the presentation go?”
the presentation being at a conference of the national medical association where yeosang was the chief guest, awarded for his valuable insights to the medical world
“i sometimes wonder if i’m the only one wearing a mask,” yeosang confesses.
you know what he means
there surely must be others just like him
you can’t expect to make medical advancements while sticking to the stupid laws and regulations they have carved for you
the medical associations do not allow anyone freedom
“it’s tiring to pretend my research was simply a result of my team’s hard work,” yeosang continue, “they didn’t do batshit. i wish i could credit you instead.”
“but you can’t,” you caress his dark locks. “that would certainly raise suspicion since i’m… underqualified.”
well, that’s arguable
you may not be as good as yeosang at what you do but considering that you come from a non-medical background, yeosang would say that you are pretty close
in fact, overqualified
“i don’t think there’s anyone more qualified than you,” yeosang lifts his head to look up at you, eyes scanning your face. “you’re an expert of the human body.”
you are an expert, that is true
you did what you had to do to survive as a young girl who lost her way
you were meant to be a test subject yourself but you created your own path and proved that you were good with your hands- almost artistic
and that you could open up humans as long as you had a good knife
your skills were a bit rusty when yeosang found you in the black market
but he was thoroughly impressed and made an offer. it was an offer that you couldn’t resist
you would no longer be bound to be a slave for the rest of your life
you would be his equal. an accomplice
“but you are the mad scientist. i’m just your unofficial assistant,” you pat his cheek in answer
it’s a wonder that you’re here now, in his arms
a muffled sound interrupts your little moment
you both steer towards the big room and yeosang looks around for a moment to take in the glory of his workplace
the crisp white walls and clean tiles smelling of antiseptic, marred with red stains of blood that is dripping from the man’s limbs
the man who is currently tied to a stretcher in the middle of the room
the instruments and tools that he would be using tonight to open his test subject up are glinting with silver, ready to be used
he has chosen the perfect target- a relatively healthy, middle-aged homeless man
really, no one would care if he went missing
in fact, you were doing him a favour by putting an end to his miserable life, right?
surely, he did not wish to live without a home and the means to survive
though here he was, sedated but struggling nonetheless, as if finally having found the will to live
“ah, he created a mess,” yeosang begins, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he inspects the bruises around the man’s wrists. “i’m sorry you had to wait so long, hmm?”
it’s almost eerie, how yeosang’s voice drips with pity
but that’s what you like about him
he thinks of the greater good. he is doing all of this for the greater good
there is no personal desire to kill random human beings, no
he simply needs test subjects to study the human body, so there can be advancements in the medical world
he just can’t believe that the world does not have a cure or even a prevention for most of the diseases in this age
he has taken it upon himself to contribute to the medical world so people do not have to suffer anymore
he complains about this a lot
if people had guts, they would have done this ages ago
sometimes, he refers to the awful medical experiments done by humankind- especially on women
he is different from them, he claims
he cares about their pain- that is why he makes sure to make his subjects’ death quick and painless before he starts to conduct his experiments
it’s just too bad that he doesn’t have much time after the person passes to study certain functions of a living human
(so sometimes, he makes exceptions and asks god for forgiveness. easy peasy)
you watch yeosang with a sort of wonder and a little something that resembles fear as he caresses the man’s head in farewell
he asks the man to say his last words, to choose them carefully, to take his time and to make peace with the fact that there is no way out
the sedatives seem to have made the man somewhat placid
the test subject stops resisting to lock eyes with the doctor
he says something about the regrets he’s had in his life and how he just wants his misery and pain to end now
yeosang’s brows are furrowed in concentration as he listens to each and every word, nodding along as if he aims to fulfil every desire this man possesses
his hand is gently caressing the man’s head
when the man is done, yeosang tells him that his contribution to medical research won’t be forgotten
he looks at you to find you already staring at him with an unreadable expression
he signals you to get the job done and you inject the medicine meant to stop the man’s heart
you watch the man take his last breath, his face contorting in pain as his heart ceases to function
yeosang has already moved on from the little moment he had, putting on medical gloves and snapping them against his skin rather dramatically
“let’s get to work, shall we?”
you smile in response, following his instructions
soon, you are testing the functioning of the man’s abdominal organs with various equipment and drugs that yeosang has bought from the black market
you have to work quickly before necrosis begins and hinders you
yeosang is very careful with his methods. his hands are steady as if he has done this a thousand times already
and though he comes off as clumsy in the public eye, he is anything but here
his eyes are focused, darting between the electrodes placed on the man’s liver to the readings on the screen
it goes on like this for a while, yet another failed experiment as the liver fails to respond as desired to the electric shock and necrosis takes over
it doesn’t disappoint any of you though
yeosang has a strong vision and no amount of failed experiments is going to stop him
plus, there’s always something you learn even from failure
you begin to clean up when you notice a broken nail lying on the stretcher
you pick it up with tweezers and inspect it- it must have broken when the man was struggling to break free
yeosang catches you looking at the discoloured nail with curiosity and he hums in question
“hair and fingernails are beautiful ornaments.” you ask, “so why do they seem so baleful when they are removed?
yeosang stands beside you, pondering
“the answer is simple. they are previews of what is to come. of death.”
you look at him to find his eyes twinkling with the knowing glint of someone who’s seen it all
after you both finish recording the data of tonight’s session, yeosang is back to being the cute and clumsy person that you absolutely adore
the man is craving chicken after today’s hard work so you fulfil his wish and take him to his favourite place
you both sit across each other, drinking beer and savouring the juicy meat while talking about casual stuff- just an assistant and her boss
just two friends who met by chance and felt an instant pull towards each other
just two lovers, fated to be together and find solace in each other’s company
as if the stars have aligned for you yet again, a familiar face walks in and sits on the table next to you
you meet yeosang’s eyes and you both stifle a smile
it’s one of the potential test subjects you’ve had in your file, due for observation
and what better observation than to sit next to them in a casual setting and eavesdrop naturally?
yeosang raises his beer glass in toast and you share a knowing smile, raising your own glass in toast
just two partners in crime. that’s who you are
The Mad Scientist and his Accomplice
San
Executioner
choi san works hard during the day
he goes to the school and makes sure his students are in top shape
as their p.e. teacher and coach, he has every student’s physical status on his fingertips
he knows their strengths and their weaknesses. he also knows their desires
so if a student is not a good runner but wants to run better, he would never tell them to give up, he would personally coach them and make sure they know that their body is not the limit
they can be a good runner, a good player, a good swimmer- anything
as long as they are steadfast, they can conquer the world
so choi san is loved and respected by the students, known to be a very caring teacher
but choi san works harder at night. no one needs to know that
certainly not his colleagues who always go about how hardworking a teacher he is
when he is free from the school, he goes to his home and changes before driving to his friend’s place- a warehouse where a few of you hang out
someone programmes, another composes, another works out
just an innocent hideout that you’re all using even in your early thirties
except that you also huddle around to read the new request you receive on your app
“i am a twenty-one year old female. two years ago, the man who dated my older sister killed her, but due to lack of evidence, he did not receive the jail time he deserves. he claims that he is innocent, but ever since he got out, he’s been bothering me because he had to serve his short sentence anyway. he is threatening to kill my family and then me if i go to the cops. i am scared to leave the house because he is stalking me and i can always see him wherever i go.
please help me. i won’t go to the cops anyway- they didn’t do anything then, and they will not do anything now.”
san is contemplating if he should accept this request
you look at wooyoung who is immediately weighing the pros and the cons
you look back at san who is still deep in thought and you gently rest your hand on his thigh, bringing him out of his head
“i’ll take it,” he mutters. “accept the request, y/n.”
you nod and go back to the computer to accept the request
you have a phone call conversation with the client where you set up a meeting
it’s you and wooyoung who go to meet with the respective parties. san works in the shadows
the next night, san finds you deep in thought outside, leaning against the worn out wall of the warehouse
he joins you, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans
“i know what you’re thinking,” san begins, glancing at you. “you’ve been awfully quiet since the meeting.”
you shrug in defeat. “i know i can’t change your mind.”
“it’s not going to be the same,” san refers back to the one time you all took a request from a 19 year old girl who was being bullied by her seniors
it got to a dangerous point and had you been a little late, you might have lost the girl
san lost his temper that time, though
and while he couldn’t physically harm the kids who were bullying the girl, he had them locked in a room for one night while he educated them
and funnily enough, san was scarier that night
scarier than every other time he actually wields a weapon
you asked him that night if there were any just people left in this world full of evil
“all people are evil. to believe that you are just, you must believe that someone else is more evil than you”
was his response. safe to say, the girl was living her best life now, but you saw a new side of san that night
a side you had never seen all your life, and that was saying something since you were childhood friends
“we won’t let it get to that point,” san assured, outstretching your hand and you pouted before taking it
he caressed your knuckles, his voice assertive. “i will take care of it. properly. i always do.”
“do you think i only worry about things going wrong?” you finally say out loud, the words that you want to say to him every time he goes out in the field
san, despite himself, breaks into a smile that would seem so out of character to anyone who has not known him for long
“you can’t smile your way out of this,” you sulk further, snatching your hand away and folding your arms
“baby,” san begins, trying to take your hand again but you’re not having any of it
“i’m worried you’ll get hurt. i’m worried about the pain you’re willing to go through so you can lessen the pain of others.”
san stops teasing then, mimicking your position as he leans against the wall next to you
there is a thick silence surrounding you and you wonder what wooyoung is doing inside- is he napping?
“it’s something i have to do. something only i can do. you know that, right?”
“i know,” you say, almost a whisper. “and that’s what makes this more frustrating.”
because it was originally your idea
on a summer night when you were all about to graduate, a tragedy happened in your town
a man went on a spree, killing and wounding multiple women and children for weeks
you, who knew one of the victims personally, were shocked by the act and disgusted at how lazy the police were being
it turned out that the assailant was a high-profile businessman and the police were trying to cover the case up as per the orders of their superiors
the three of you were hanging out in the warehouse, each burdened by their own train of thoughts, until you finally said it out loud
“what if we were some sort of a private service where we help the victims? especially when the police can’t?”
it was wooyoung who agreed first, and san who disagreed
it took him some convincing to finally agree, and you set rules
you were not going to kill anyone- only maim
if it’s a serial killer, you maim their hands so they can never hold a weapon again
if it’s a bully, you maim their mouth so they think before they speak
the three of you are a team, but san is the executioner
wooyoung is his eyes and feet, and you are the brains
so it is ironic how worried you are about san now, when you gave him this role
“i know that i can get hurt,” san begins, taking a deep breath. “but there is no pain as long as i keep my eyes on the balance scale.”
this time, when he outstretches his hand, you take it. he plants a sweet kiss on your knuckles
“don’t worry about me, hmm?” he tugs you closer so you can rest your head against his firm chest as he embraces you. “i can’t focus when you’re so worried.”
“i can’t help it,” you tell him. “you’ll just have to get used to it.”
san lifts your face with his thumb below your chin, his brows furrowed with concentration and worry as he looks at you
his eyes are sharp as he scans you so you smile
immediately, his body relaxes and the corners of his lips curl in a smile as he pecks your lips- once, twice
and it is about to turn into a deeper kiss when wooyoung claps loudly to get your attention
“alright, lovebirds. get inside. we have a heads-up.”
you scowl at wooyoung who smirks in response but you both immediately join the youngest inside
your client has texted to let you know that she’s about to go out so you can stalk her stalker
you and wooyoung take your equipment to the van and san prepares himself
he’ll be observing tonight, but he is prepared in case the stalker catches on
just like that, you observe the stalker for a few days, assuring your client that she is safe
you plan a trap to lure the stalker to an abandoned area where san will have a little chat with the stalker
and when the day comes, all your client has to do is threaten to call the cops on him
he comes after her and that is when san knocks him out with a punch
the stalker finds himself tied to a chair in an empty room when he opens his eyes
there is the stale smell of something resembling death in the room, and that makes the man resist
from the darkness, san emerges, clad in all black, his face covered with a mask
and his favourite weapon, the dagger, in his hand
you and wooyoung are watching from the camera embedded on his coat
you can see the glint of the dagger as he twists it dramatically in his hand
san circles around the man once as if to gauge the room
even through the camera, you can tell how thick the air must be feeling
san meets eyes with the man and removes the tape over his mouth, wincing when the man screams his lungs out in hopes that help would come
there is no help, not for miles
“who are you?” the stalker spits on the ground near san’s feet
san only shuts his eyes in mild annoyance. he is not easily riled up
“you have been found guilty of the crime of stalking. tell me… what should be your sentence?”
the man pales, fresh beads of sweat trickling down his forehead
“it will be better if you admit to your wrongdoings and give me a fair number. you don’t want to leave it in my hands.”
“what do you mean sentence?” the stalker starts struggling fiercely, almost falling off the chair. “i have already served!”
san grins under the mask, closing in like a cat and stomping on his foot, making the man let out a guttural groan of pain
he leans in to whisper in his ear
“but… that was for murder. and unfortunately, i am not charging you for murder tonight. otherwise… you would not have walked out alive.”
the man gulps loudly, meeting eyes with who has to be the person he has heard so much about in prison
most of the people in prison feared this man- the judge, they called him
the man was the judge, jury and executioner for criminals, feared more than the cops or actual prosecutors
“surely… you’re not him, are you?”
you wince at the fear in the stalker’s voice and meet wooyoung’s eyes
san never confirms if he is that. he simply finishes the job right there
the stalker’s screams are heard for quite a distance, even outside your earpieces
you shut your eyes momentarily and when you open, you can see the blood oozing out of the man’s left leg
san is wiping the dagger with the man’s own jacket as he tells him that he will never be able to stalk people again
the man screams and screams, waiting for something more, but nothing else comes
san’s job is done
he tosses a broken piece of glass near the chair for the man to free himself if he wishes to
when san comes back to the van, the air is sombre, just like after every finished request
wooyoung pats his shoulder in acknowledgement and mutters a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, which works
“they still call you the judge, huh?” wooyoung teases as he drives
“judge, jury, executioner. how scary, choi san.”
san raises a brow at your comment- he can tell what you’re referring to
you’re referring to the first time when he came back covered in blood
and the first time he realised that no matter what he did, you would never be scared of him
and that you and wooyoung would always have his back and guide him
“i think i’m only the executioner. you both are the judge and jury.”
“makes sense,” wooyoung agrees. “but the world does not need to know that.”
Judge, Jury and Executioner
Mingi
The Overseer
“the future, pitch black, upside down”
mingi dips his brush into the onyx ink, finishing writing the words on the big canvas
the canvas that is a splash of colours- red for the blood on his hands. white for the innocence he lost too soon. blue for all those nights he spent trapped with only the moon as his friend
and finally, black for the future. the future is the only uncertainty in his life
despite being a leader of a notorious gang, he can never be certain about his future. there are always people after his life
he cannot trust anyone- not one soul-
“sir,” a voice interrupts and he knows who it is instantly
even if he did not hear your voice, he knows you are the only person who would dare interrupt him in the middle of his private time-
“tea, sir. you’ve been cooped up in here for too long,” you say, placing the mug on the table
-for something as meagre as tea
mingi spares a glance in your direction, noticing how you are still dressed in your usual all-black fit
which means you have not gone to sleep yet, even though it’s well past midnight
“and what are you doing up so late?” he asks as he picks up the cup and sips it, finding it exactly to his liking. a flavour only you can nail
“watching you paint,” you confess without hesitation
because in this place, in this room, between the two of you, there may be truths hidden, but there are no secrets
mingi is amused to hear that though he does his best to hide it
“and what do you think of the painting?” he asks, allowing you to take a closer look
you smile at his permission to inspect his art and you inch closer to the painting, now standing beside your boss
you read the words on it in a whisper and cock your head in thought
“isn’t this too dark, even for you?” you question
mingi shakes his head in amusement and looks down. only you could have made this observation, having been at his side for a solid seven years now
where others would say that his paintings were too ‘colourful’ considering the kind of person he is, you still find them too dark and void of life
you’d know better, because you know mingi inside out
he first found you when he was a street thug in the process of becoming something big
all he had was his raw strength, a strategic brain, a few rusty weapons and some loyal friends
he went on to fight gang after gang, always emerging victorious and merging the losing team with a good deal- it’s how he earned respect around and gained a reputation
every other gang knew not to stand against him unless they wanted to risk losing everything they had
when he first opened his office in the darkest part of the town, he found you purely by chance
you were nearing the end of your teens- a rebellious little girl who cut ties from her family and ran away from home
at that time, you had multiple part-time jobs trying to make ends meet, hoping to find a place to live
and one fateful night, you found yourself in front of a building to deliver chicken, peering up at the light coming from the 4th floor- this must be it
although… you weren’t sure if the loud sounds coming from the floor were just men having a good time or if something had gone really, really wrong
men will be men, you thought, wanting to get the delivery done with so you could move on
only when you reached the 4th floor, you spotted men lying on the ground and clutching their limbs, blood all around
while every sane part of your brain screamed at you to pretend you saw nothing and go back, you recalled how when you received the order, they promised a big tip to the rider
you could not miss that, could you? you had to find a place to live, and you needed every penny
so you started with the men who seemed to be unconscious. you took any cash they had, being careful to hide your face in the hoodie
you moved to the office, hearing a crashing sound and flinching
you made quick work of grabbing more cash from the thugs- they had to be thugs
they all had guns, for fuck’s sake
you went into one of the neater rooms and placed the bags of fried chicken there
and you froze when a burly man made his way inside, wiping blood from the edge of his mouth
“ah… you must be song’s girl, eh?” he snickered, scanning you up and down
“i- i’m delivering chicken,” you pointed at the table. “i’ll be on my way then-”
“not so quick,” his gaze darkened
instinctively, you grabbed the nearest object, which so happened to be a mug and chucked it at the man, successfully hitting his head
he clutched his head in pain and you made a dash outside, bumping into another man
the tall man seemed mostly unscathed save for a bruise on his cheek
he held your wrists to steady you and his eyes darted in the man’s direction who was clutching his head no more
“oi, song!” the burly man called. “teach your girl some manners, will you?”
the man called song pushed you to the side and a gunfight ensued
you took shelter behind a shelf, observing how the taller man successfully shot his every target
when he thought he was done- and was out of bullets, he looked in your direction and tsked loudly
you were about to come out of the shadows when you noticed one of the supposedly unconscious men take aim of song’s head
your eyes widened and almost instinctively, you grabbed a heavy metal object from the shelf and rushed to the man who was targeting your saviour
to say that mingi was surprised to see a young girl save him from his enemy by nearly crushing the man’s skull?
he knew you were something special right away
you both stared at each other for a long time before he told you to go back to his office, lock the door and not come out until he comes back
he was done sooner than you thought, and while his men cleaned his mess, he found you in his room, sitting rather calmly
“so you’re the delivery girl,” he narrowed his eyes
“i hope the chicken is still warm,” you responded. “if you can just pay me so i can leave-”
“why did you do that earlier?” he asked, voice low and rough that sent shivers up your spine
“i don’t know,” you answered truthfully
mingi paid you more than extra that night and told you to come next time they place an order
the next time would turn out to be the last time you would ever work a part-time job
mingi offered you a place in his gang, and you took it
you are still not sure what your position in this gang is though- they smuggle drugs but keep you away from the work, so what are you doing here?
personal assistant? chef? manager? all of these?
sometimes, you are accompanying wooyoung in the field- the gang now has an official base and a few legal businesses
sometimes, you stay in the kitchen with seonghwa and wooyoung to cook
other times, you sit with yunho and hongjoong to plan and offer your opinion on their strategic takes
you aren’t sure if you are qualified for that- you probably aren’t
somehow, though, the gang members respect you for whoever you are
you are the light in their dark life, they joke. you are someone’s friend now, sibling to some, secretkeeper for others
but you still aren’t sure what you are to mingi
whenever you ask him why he took you in, mingi always responds with something different
“you were clever grabbing all that money from our enemies”
“you saved me- though i must say i could have handled it”
“you looked like a lost cat”
“you didn’t report us”- excuses, all of them
truth be told, mingi has no idea what you are to him either
he has a certain fondness for you that he has for no one else. of course, it didn’t happen instantly
he took you in because he realised you had a strategic mind and he could really use that
he insisted the office needed a ‘feminine touch’ even though it came in the form of a cranky teen who wouldn’t stop asking questions
but somehow, the two of you formed an unbreakable bond
he finds solace just being with you in one room, even in complete silence
he loves to hear you talk, even though you mostly question his morals
because he is not a good person, you found out
song mingi is not conventionally good. he is a man of principles, but he does not have the best morals
despite all that, you learned a lot from him. the world is a harsh place, and only he can protect you
he learned a lot from you too. the world is a harsh place, and only you are his safe space
when at times things get stressful, he comes to seek you. he finds you in the shared residence and sits with you
if he is feeling down, you will have him lay his head in your lap. you will caress his head and let him be
if he wants to talk, he will. otherwise, he will watch you for a long time until he falls asleep, unguarded
when he gets tired, he will seek your arms. all he has to do is show up and you will know what to do
you will drop whatever you are doing and spread your arms
it is his home at this point. that’s how things are like
are you in a relationship? you don’t know
all you know is that song mingi is the most important person in your life
it doesn’t matter if he lives life the way he does
it doesn’t affect you anymore- the blood on his hands or the chaos in his mind
it doesn’t bother you because you know his heart, and that is all that matters
so standing in his private space right next to him, inspecting his painting with a critical eye, you tell him that the painting is not him
he tells you to pick a colour and you reach out for a box, making him chuckle
“really?” he asks
“the future may seem black, but…” you begin. “it doesn’t feel so dark when i’m with you.”
mingi takes a deep breath at your words. you always get him like this, and he is not sure if he can restrain himself anymore
your heart aches when you see him curl his fists, a sign that he is holding back some words or an action
“tell me what you’re thinking,” you request, though it registers like a command in the gang leader’s brain
“i’m thinking that i never should have given you this life.”
you shake your head at that- how many times has he voiced out that he wished you had lived a better, normal life, away from the clutches of the underworld?
“no, you’re thinking something else too,” you comment
“i’m thinking that i want you to stay here, with me, forever,” he responds
you nod in approval. “i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere.”
“you could get hurt,” mingi says, taking a step closer and closing the gap between your bodies
“i am a big girl now, mingi,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist and hearing his erratic heartbeat
his arms are still by his sides for a moment before he embraces you
“i’m old now, in fact. how much longer will you keep me waiting?”
mingi grows stiff at your question. so you know
of course you do
mingi cups your face and locks eyes with you
“i won’t break,” you promise
“i know,” he smiles, pecking your forehead. “i’m afraid you will break me.”
your lips curl in a smile and he rests his forehead against yours
“are you sure about your choice?”
“yes,” you breathe. “i want you. i’m yours.”
mingi draws back
“i meant your choice of colour,” he tilts his head in the direction of the painting and the box of paint you picked for him
“of course you did,” you laugh at his attempt to distract you
mingi leans in to close the distance between your lips
it is soft and unrushed. you both have waited for the right moment, the right time for years and everything feels absolutely right at this moment
you go first, asking him to join you in your bedroom and he agrees
he assesses the canvas once again
as a finishing touch, he sprays a final splash of yellow- the colour you picked for him
yellow for hope, for all the light in his dark world
The Overseer and his Shelter
Wooyoung
The Maniac
it has always been a cat and mouse game with you and wooyoung
you chase after each other, running in circles with no start or end
it’s almost as if you both have sworn to keep your eyes glued on each other, watching every move, anticipating what is next
someone’s lips curls up in a failed attempt to restrain a smile- a smile that drips with mischief and mockery
someone else’s eyes glint with threat and promise that this is not over, their fists curled in anger
you chase after each other like cat and mouse
only…you’re not sure who is the cat and who is the mouse
sometimes, it is you chasing after wooyoung
jung wooyoung, the son of one of the richest businessmen in town
a privileged piece of shit who is not right in the mind
a crazy bastard who has made it his life’s mission to not only drive you to the edge of the cliff but to push you and laugh in victory as you fall
he takes advantage of you being a criminal investigator
some people jest that they can’t tell if wooyoung means to ruin your career or lead you to your promotion
with the amount of times wooyoung has gotten himself in trouble (and gotten away with it) he keeps your desk full of cases that you spend most nights investigating
while he keeps your hands full, what frustrates you to no end is that he almost always gets away with his crimes only because of his social standing and his connections
he gets away with petty crimes. he gets away with bloody fights that could very well have him spend one night in the station, cuffed
he gets away with major crimes such as money laundering and tax evasion
no matter how much you try to investigate, you cannot
there are the warnings of your superiors who threaten to fire you because this is not your worry
and even if you do start to investigate, wooyoung’s team is quick to wipe any evidence of said crimes
you’re pretty sure that at this point, he might be hiding a body somewhere in his house
you wouldn’t be surprised. man once set his enemy’s mansion on fire
to make things worse, he got away with it- even when he was the only one grinning and playing with a lighter on his way out
while the others scrambled like mice, he sauntered in style
he gets away with anything
you reputation at the station is already in shambles because of it
they call you his shadow at this point, considering how you are always following him
the truth is, you just want to wipe the shitty grin off his face for once
you want him to suffer defeat when you finally put him behind bars
you want him to chase after you like you chase after him
you might come off as delusional, but you’re half convinced that whatever wooyoung does is on purpose at this point- to get your attention
it wasn’t always like this, you and wooyoung
it started with a simple fight that broke out at a party where all the high-profile people were
someone was stupid enough to call the police- but you were more stupid because you went ahead and handcuffed wooyoung
you told him that you couldn’t waste this opportunity because you were investigating another case related to his father’s company anyway
and he? he laughed out loud like a maniac
you soon learned why, going home with the sound of your superiors scolding you still ringing in your ears
here you are, a few years and a lot of chasing each other later
except… you get something out of the chasing now
all he has to do is corner you. all he has to do is rile you up as he tells you why you lost this game yet again
with his burning gaze and honey voice, he pins you to the spot
with his fingers tracing the curves of your face, he tells you how much he loves you chasing after him
as if he’s all that you ever think about. he might be right
“don’t you think we’re meant for each other?” wooyoung questions almost innocently, licking his lips subconsciously as he trails his finger down the curve of your neck until he reaches the first button of your shirt
“don’t think too highly of yourself, wooyoung,” you respond, your chest rising and falling in controlled breaths
you can not let him know the effect he has on you
however, wooyoung doesn’t need any sort of confirmation
you can try to keep your gaze steel all you want. you can attempt to sound sure and fake indifference, but the fact is that wooyoung knows
all he has to do is take another step forward and fill the gap between you two
his warm breath caresses your face and you gulp despite yourself
he watches you intently and squeezes your neck just a bit, causing you to part your lips for air and then he brushes the tip of his nose against yours
his other hand is slowly but surely unbuckling the belt of your pants and taking it off
you can only thank god in an ashamed relief that you’re in a private space- the space being one of the empty rooms in a random building on a random street because you had been tailing wooyoung
(at least the door is locked)
wooyoung brushes his lips against yours as your pants fall on the ground and pool on your feet
the sound that makes has heat rushing to your face- this should not be happening
you are a fucking detective and wooyoung is your target
but you can’t complain when his fingertips dance along your hip bones
all he has to do is swipe his fingers up your panties
upon finding them soaked (as usual), he smirks and you smack his chest
he catches your fist in his hand, though
“all for me?” he asks
in a matter of seconds, your lips are upon each other, tongues in each other’s mouth as you wrap your legs around him
he picks you up effortlessly and places you on a very dusty table
he gets rid of his clothes all the while kissing you expertly, aiming to please you, dominate you
he sucks on your lips, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on
and when he finally takes off all your garments, he has more places he can get his mouth on
“admit it, detective,” he breathes against your clit. “you’re obsessed with me.”
“get to work before i cuff you and fuck your brains out, wooyoung.”
wooyoung’s laugh echoes in the room as he recalls that night- a night he is sure he can never forget
“does that mean i get to experience that again if i stop now?”
you are moments away from your high- how dare he ask if he can stop?
he gets the hint and gets to work, and he makes sure he does a good job, licking and sucking at your clit until you’re screaming
for bonus points, he dives his cock inside right after and stays still as he starts to kiss you eagerly
this time, you’re the one who loses to him and lets him take control
you let him thrust into you. you let him praise you and humiliate you to no end
truth be told, you’re addicted to him. there is no going back from here
wooyoung knows how to use his tongue and he whispers sweet nothings
he is also surprisingly good at aftercare, even though you don’t accept it from him
well, you try not to, but he is insistent
he takes you home and he invites himself in
you go to the shower and he goes to your room to admire the effort you put into bringing him down
loads of files and a board full of his ‘accomplishments’ staring back at him- nothing he doesn’t know
“you think your daddy will help you if i start to investigate the slush fund you have?”
“which one?” is his response, and he grins widely as you gape at him
he can practically see the gears in your head turning and he adores that
it is a cat and mouse game after all. he must give you something so you keep coming after him
(and you must give him something so he keeps finding you too)
while you’re still processing what he just implied, your phone rings
you flinch when you pick it up, getting an earful from your team leader once again, because where were you?
you were supposed to tail wooyoung to confirm that he is meeting up with a notorious gang member who does his dirty work
the case you’re team is on these days is targeting the gang, and yet again… wooyoung is involved
so what the hell were you doing, your superior asks
“jung wooyoung did not meet up with the gang leader,” you say into the phone, your eyes fixed on wooyoung
wooyoung has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face
“and how do you know that? i thought you lost the tail-”
“yes, i did lose the tail,” you bite your lips in thought- you can’t tell your team leader that wooyoung has a strong alibi this time-
but wooyoung goes ahead and snatches your phone from you
“detective lee,” wooyoung greets and you mutter a string of curses under your breath
you watch wooyoung charm his way through the matter
telling the detective that he was in a tight spot because of the gang they are investigating
and how it is a shame that a ‘civilised’ person such as himself is being linked to thugs
he tells him that he almost got attacked but you saved him, and you hid him in an abandoned building, being wise enough not to blow your cover
you can’t tell how he does it, but by the end of the call, your team leader is fully convinced that you did a good job today and he even praises you when you take the phone back
when you end the call, you glare at wooyoung
“what?” he shrugs. “i needed an alibi.”
“is that why you took me to the building to fuck me? because you needed an alibi?”
wooyoung watches you with mild curiosity
“did you think it meant something else?” he asks
it would have hurt if he really meant it, but that’s the thing
you both know he doesn’t mean what he says, especially about whatever is going on between you two
he has risked his position and even his life far too many times just to get you alone and fuck you
so you only smile and shake your head in response before telling him to fuck off and get out of your sight
(and he does. not before a second round)
when he leaves, you watch his car disappear from the window before going to the board and updating everything you got out of him tonight
everything about his business and his crimes. everything to make your case on him stronger
it’s truly a wonder how much you can get out of fucking someone right and you’re positive you can see the end of this case now
though… you’re not sure if you will ever take this to court. but that’s something you’ll worry about later
for now, you will follow him like a cat follows a mouse
and he will chase after you like a cat chases after a mouse
The Maniac and his Shadow
Jongho
The Tyrant
it is always a little too cold in the building for your liking
the building that is choi enterprises, located at the heart of the city, standing tall with numerous floors, laden in luxury
it is a workplace and home to some of the people in this city and a symbol of something untouchable to the others
as you enter the building, accompanied by your secretaries and a guard, you instantly feel the temperature drop despite the warm tones of the interior
the employees that greet you may have smiles on their faces but it’s all an act. you can tell, because you know what a genuine smile looks like
choi enterprises somehow always manages to keep the most calculating people to themselves. it might be why the company has flourished so much in such a short period of time
“to the private elevators, miss,” a man says and you recognise him as one of the ceo’s personal staff
you follow him and tug your jacket closer, wishing you had worn it instead of draping it over your shoulders
you catch your reflection on the golden glossy door of the elevator and straighten, lifting your chin up
you will not be pushed into submission, you repeat for the umpteenth time
however, things are not in your favour this time
in this never ending game of business rivalry, you and choi jongho have never seen eye to eye. you always stand in opposition, defensive or offensive
sometimes, you manage to outsmart him while making a new business deal or scoring a new project. other times, he is a few steps ahead and wins the game
except when you lose, somehow, the loss is much greater and a bit personal
your company always suffers more when you lose, which is why this little meeting you are going to have with jongho is no less than a negotiation- a war, if you must
sometimes, you wonder if jongho has a personal grudge against you. these meaningless battles start to seem like an excuse to see you
if not, then why is jongho looking like he just won the lottery at the sight of you?
“as beautiful as ever,” he says, scanning your figure slowly
you don’t move an inch, pretending those words don’t affect you
the secretaries move to another room, leaving you and jongho alone
jongho gets up from his chair and moves to the middle of the room, motioning you to take a seat
you watch as he pours a drink for you, his muscles flexing through the coat he’s wearing
you take the drink- you need something to calm your nerves
“i suppose the odds are not in your favour, considering you found your way back here”
an allusion to the time he said that you were meant to find your way back here again and again, that you were just a lost kitten and he was your master, controlling you
at that time, you thought he meant to spite you, but time after time, he proved himself right
you always find your way here, always as the opposition. this time, though… you won’t bend
“if the odds are in your favour,” you begin experimentally, downing the drink in one gulp and then pouring one for jongho. “would you like me to join hands with you?”
now this is new- jongho’s eyes slightly widen at your remark
“ah… how the tables have turned,” jongho started to chuckle lowly
you let him be for a moment, scoffing internally
jongho had earned the right title over the years since he stepped up as ceo of his father’s company
a monster of capitalism
known to be the owner of many questionable businesses, borderline illegal, evading taxes and having slush funds unashamedly, heavily involved in money laundering- the list goes on and on
a true financial villain- a true monster, yet… being able to get away with everything, unscathed. that’s who jongho is
he has bribed every soul who would dare go against him. and those who do not take the bribe? he makes sure they kneel
and you… you’re pretty close to being his next target- he did say you would look pretty on your knees for him
“is business not going well?” he asks, faking innocence. he knows
you are a rival company- seo enterprises. everything that jongho’s company is, but… more legal
your forefathers were once partners, and they created their independent companies without a hint of rivalry
they were the definition of true brothers (and partners in crime)
the difference between the values of your company came when you and jongho stepped up as ceo
you had made it your life’s mission for your company to earn a good reputation and moral image, while jongho seemed to have made it his life’s mission to simply conquer the world, no matter what or who the stepping stone is
“business is well,” you narrow your eyes at him. “it’s about the land in ilsan.”
jongho doesn’t seem surprised to hear that. it is always like this- he knows what moves you will make
“ah, the one where we are about to construct a gallery?” jongho asks
“we?” you repeat. “that land is a shared property. why have you not consulted us before going ahead and signing the documents? how could you begin this project without us-”
“the other option is selling it to the government because of the redevelopment project,” jongho leans forward, “and you know how much i despise the government getting their grubby hands on what’s mine”
you know he is right, and he knows that you are not here to argue about why he started this project without telling you
jongho relaxes back, considering all his options before deciding to strike. “you’re worried about your involvement in that project, is that right?”
“well,” you mirror his position, “i would like to keep my reputation clean unlike yours.”
he chuckles at that, proud of his deeds. “yeah, well, that’s going to be hard, sweetheart. that gallery is going to be an optimum location for storing money.”
you know what he means. the gallery is going to display priceless pieces of arts. those pieces are but a means of illegal transactions for the elites
you swallow your anger, taking a deep breath. “i’d like to have my shares back, then. before construction starts.”
“uh…” jongho gets up, fixing his clothes. “you’re going to have to convince me for that.”
“please,” you scoff, but he only shakes his head, ignoring that because he knows this ‘please’ was wholly sarcastic
“try harder,” he smiles mockingly before turning his back to you and moving to the window, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants and staring down at the city
a tyrant- that’s who he is
he expects to get the maximum output out of anything he set his eyes on, no matter the cost- money or lives
you join him by the window, pointing at a few spots. “that’s where people held protests against your company last week,” you tell him. “apparently, you have been exploiting labourers too.”
“that’s what they think,” he spits. “i gave them more than they deserve. they just never learn to accept. they never get pleased.”
you look at jongho- he sounds like he is saying the truth. he has the art of sounding like a victim at times, thus justifying his actions
“doesn’t all that venom in your heart make you dizzy?”
jongho glances at you, his lips threatening to curl into a smile at your words
“doesn’t it get tiring, pretending to be moral?” jongho asks, trying to read your guarded eyes
“there’s no pretending. i never claimed that i was full of morals, mr. choi,” you sigh. “i just wish for my business to have a legal foundation.”
“and it will, you don’t have to worry,” he responds, curling a section of your hair that had been resting on your shoulder in his fingers
you don’t flinch at his touch. you’ve known him since the beginning, and nothing he does fazes you anymore- except when he leans closer experimentally, locking eyes with you and trying to read you
“you will get your shares, but you will have to convince me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper
it is a challenge. it is always a challenge with choi jongho
“why are you so obsessed with me?” you laugh this time, swatting his hand away
he joins, and everything almost seems normal for a moment- just two friends with too many inside jokes, except… it only lasts for a moment
“how can i convince you?” you ask, sombre
“you know what i want from you, y/n,” he replies in a similar tone
he wants a true partnership, except his idea of a partnership is where you bend to his will (and so is yours)
“don’t turn this into a legal battle, jongho,” you warn, “i would hate to summon you to court.”
“don’t turn this into a petty rivalry,” he counters, “you will benefit from this project. you reputation won’t be harmed.”
“i don’t want my name next to yours,” you tell him in all honesty and you think you see hurt flash in his eyes
“that is not possible,” jongho declares. “our companies are not mentioned without each other. we are fated like that, you and i.”
that is true. no one dares to touch the two of you, so you two have always been alone
there is no one you both can trust. there is no one next to you
except the two of you are always together, wherever you go, be it business parties, political dinners, or high-profile events
you can only trust each other, because despite knowing everything about each other’s business, despite being at war with each other
you are always honest with each other- honest about your intentions and purpose
there is no one next to you because you two are always together, leaving no space for someone else
do you hate that? not really. does he hate that? he’s not sure
“you can buy my shares from me,” you start, “or you can shift them elsewhere. i can handle whatever loss comes with that.”
“or… you can let it be and use the revenue for something ‘moral’,” he taunts and silence envelopes the room
“no matter how much you try to maintain a clean image,” he starts, gentler this time, “you cannot undo the damage your forefathers have done to your company, y/n. seo enterprises will always be known as the company that exploited the weak to get to the top.”
you don’t wince at that, though your heart aches to hear that
“just like your company. except you are continuing in their footsteps,” you say
jongho nods, watching how your shoulders are curling inwards
“you are not weak, y/n, stand straight,” he almost scolds, taking you by surprise
you find yourself straightening at his words, confused to see how conflicted he looks
“you are the strongest person i know,” he tells you, and he means it. “i just don’t get why you are atoning for their sins.”
“i don’t know either,” you smile in defeat. “i just am.”
“well, if you ever get tired,” he gently places his hands over your shoulders, “i am here for you. you can lean on me.”
you lock eyes with him, scanning his face. his smile seems genuine
the way he kisses your forehead makes your heart melt
when he embraces you, you lean on him physically
and you almost give in, except…
“i can lean on you, huh?” you say, soaking in the warmth of his body, taking as much as you can before you continue
“so you can end my career, merge our companies and crown yourself king?”
you look up at him, finding him smirking
just like you thought
“not a chance, choi jongho.”
“how can you see right through me every time, y/n?” he laughs loudly as you smack his chest and move towards the sofa to grab your purse
“i’m the only person who knows who you are,” you tell him. “you can own the world, but you will never own me.”
his eyes glint almost dangerously
“challenge accepted,” he says
you mockingly wave goodbye before exiting the room
choi jongho never changes, and neither do you
but somehow… it gets more addicting and electrifying to be with him, to compete with him and to stand with him
even though he is a tyrant, and you are everything that he is not
🌷⌇ finding our way back; a choi jongho mini-series
ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader
│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.
│genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst
│trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, illegitimate child, single parenthood (any other warnings will be labeled on a chapter-by-chapter basis)
│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.
!minors do not interact!
│taglist: if you wish to be tagged let me know in the comments or here
⎰chapters:
⎡prequel: the fear still lingers
⎡part one: im not afraid anymore
⎡part two: fear of the unknown
⎡part three: facing the fear
⎡part four: confessions
⎡part five: our first day
⎡part six: the weight of fatherhood
⎡part seven: seeds of uncertainty
⎡part eight: facing the truth
⎡part nine: not on your own
⎡part ten: new beginnings
⎡part eleven: the night
⎡part twelve: little family
⎡part thirteen: after the storm
⤷ discovering us: what we can't say (special chapter)
⎡part fourteen: one step at a time
⎡part fifteen: where we left off
⎡part sixteen: starting new
⎡part seventeen: hello future
⤷ discovering us: a side story set within the world of finding our way back. it stands on its own and is not essential to the main plot.
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