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k-p-p-d · 6 years

Text

Make It up to Me, III (M)

Pairing: Kris x D.O x Reader

Summary: Tall, dark, and handsome... Just your style.

Length: 4k

Warnings: kink negotiation (specifically, exclusive negotiation cuz Soo isn’t an asshole who’ll shove other kinks in just because they weren’t explicitly stated and/or discussed)

A/N: Honestly, I should be a food writer. ANYWHO. You know I couldn’t keep this from you~ @sojufor1 😘

Part One | Part Two

“This better not be something stu— Oh.”

Standing before you was a man.

An exceptionally tall man.

A man who was likely even taller than your man.

The man’s long and lean form was draped in the slimmest of slim-cut suits, the mohair jacket being double-breasted with peaked satin lapels and the hem of the cigarette-style pants just barely grazing along his ankles. It didn’t go unnoticed by you that he was, in fact, not wearing a shirt with said suit; but that was something you would have to process later (if ever). The glossy black, patent leather monk shoes would have looked like odd clown shoes were it not for the simple, understated elegance of them and the way he seemed to ooze assured confidence. A litany of pale gold chains of varying lengths and widths encircled his neck, each being encrusted with various stones or gems—from sparkling diamonds to vivid citrine topaz to brilliantly deep emerald and sapphires—that caught the light whenever he so much as breathed, especially the dazzling dragon head pendant which rested snugly in the hollow of his neck. Decorating each of his fore and ring fingers were a set of slightly mismatched, oversized rings--some a vivid yellow gold while others a more subtle pale gold; one boasted a hefty cabochon-cut obsidian, another an emerald-cut ruby of equal size and grandeur, one other was sculpted into the fierce face of a traditional shí shī, and the last was coated completely in diamonds—that would have been far too gaudy on anyone else if he did not the largest hands you had only ever seen in the pages of graphic novels. The white gold studded earrings he wore were crafted into what you could only guess to be the Chinese characters comprising his name. His inky black hair was up and back away from his forehead, save for a few stray tendrils here and there, to reveal a closely cropped undercut with an exceptional fade. Perched on his impossibly straight nose were a pair of small sunglasses bearing only red, rectangular lenses and the thin wires that held it all together. Behind the colored lenses were a mesmerizing pair of downturned, sleepy eyes which seemed to gaze straight through you as if there was nothing there for them to see since they already knew all your deepest and darkest secrets, and yet they offered you nothing but mystery and secrecy in return.

He was tall, dark, and annoyingly handsome.

You didn’t like him.

“Go on, dear,” Kyungsoo gently called out encouragingly, “introduce yourself.” The man dipped forward in a bow just shy of being too formal for the occasion before he greeted in an alluringly deep rumble of a voice, “Good evening, my name is YiFan and I am your gift.” He straightened back up to extend a hand to you to shake, the assortment of Cartier bracelets dangling delicately off his wrists flashing brilliantly in the light. He offered a small, reserved smile that only highlighted how small his pouty mouth was as he politely asked, “May I come inside?” Great; he was tall, dark, annoyingly handsome, and polite.

Your mild annoyance at his existence had just upgraded itself to full-blown dislike. You narrowed your eyes at him, but stepped aside to grant him entrance the less. He rumbled a soft “thank you” as he swept past you to get to Kyungsoo, who simply patted the left armrest of the chair. YiFan immediately perched himself on it before turning to look curiously at you. You only scowled at him as you plopped back down onto the couch. A silent moment passed between you all, both men now staring at you with mirrored expression. You tried your best not to be petty or sardonic, you really did but you couldn’t stand the way they just...stared at you. You crossed your arms and huffed at Kyungsoo, “‘Very well-mannered,’ huh? Well, then why is he wearing sunglasses at night inside? Seems kind of douchey to me...” YiFan’s strong brows knitted together just briefly in confusion at the sudden hostility. Good, missi--

“Watch yourself,” Kyungsoo warned in a deceptively soft voice as his fingers lifted to soothingly stroke the back of YiFan’s neck. “Just because you and I have done a preliminary negotiation which resulted in YiFan here being chosen does not mean you have the privilege to speak however you wish about or to him, least of all without his consent. So please, apologize to my dear boy.” “I don’t see wh—” For a split second, all the rounded, softened edges of his face & demeanor hardened with the flaring of his nostrils and clenching of his jaw as his veil of demureness slipped away in tattered shreds to reveal something cold and domineering in its wake when he growled dangerously low, “I said apologize.” The unwavering of his piercing gaze held you down under the crushing weight of the sudden wave of guilt of having callously insulted YiFan for no other reason than just to make a bitchy comment washed over you. Shifting uncomfortably, you flicked your eyes over to YiFan who at least had the decency (or perhaps, the audacity) to keep his face completely neutral during this very awkward, unwelcome blow to your ego. You mumbled out a quick apology with a defiant huff. YiFan opened his mouth to respond, but a gentle squeeze from the hand still stroking his neck had him snapping his mouth shut. “That was not an apology,” Kyungsoo chastised bluntly. “Do it again, and properly this time.”

You wanted to dig your heels in and tell Kyungsoo exactly where and how far he could shove his damn apology, but an unbidden flash of Chanyeol’s annoyingly effective pout flashed through your head. You could almost hear him bemoan how he only wanted to spoil you for your birthday because he never got to do so and how much you deserved to have such a memorable experience, especially since he wasn’t there to enjoy it with you blah blah blah. Ugh. You hated having a conscience sometimes. Begrudgingly, you turned to YiFan and mustered up all the sincerity you could, “YiFan, I apologize for having insulted you. I meant no harm by it, I hope you will forgive my slight.”

YiFan’s small smile returned to his face, “I accept your apology, and I do forgive you.” He shifted forward to extend a hand to rest on your knee but hesitated for a split second as if remembering he had not yet had your consent to touch you; so he placed his hand on Kyungsoo’s knee instead. His slight hesitation frustrated you because how dare he be so considerate on top of being tall, dark, annoyingly handsome, and polite. “He’s just overprotective of me, but don’t worry.” He winked, “I can take much more take more than that.” That certainly got your attention. “Is that so?”

YiFan shrugged, “It is. But we’ll discuss that later. Right, Sir?”

A small, warm smile floated onto Kyungsoo’s face as he shifted forward in his chair with a gentle nod of acknowledgement. “Have you eaten yet?” he inquired gently. And just like that, the tension that had begun to mount between you and YiFan dissipated to a gentle simmer as you turned to frown at Kyungsoo. He explained, “Mr. Park informed me that when left to your own devices, you may forget to eat every now again.” At the scowl that was starting to worm its way across your lips at Chanyeol’s (damn him) keen observation, Kyungsoo lifted his hand in a placating wave. “It’s perfectly okay if you haven’t. YiFan and I are both very adept in the kitchen so it would be our honor to treat you with a delicious dinner, if you’d allow us. Isn’t that right, FanFan?”

YiFan nodded once, “It would be our greatest honor.”

“I haven’t eaten dinner yet, no.” Although a part of you didn’t want to relinquish control of your most private and sacred domain, your kitchen, you were no fool to turn down a home-cooked meal made by someone who wasn’t you. “But sure, go ahead,” you allowed. “The kitchen is right over there, and both the fridge and pantry are fully stocked.” You leaned back, one arm propped up on the back of the couch. A playful smirk slipped onto your lips as you teasingly challenged, “Impress me.”

Kyungsoo rose, a smirk of his own tugging at his plush lips. “We’ll do our best.” He extended a hand for YiFan to take, “Won’t we, FanFan?”

“Yes, Sir.” With that, the two men practically slinked to the kitchen, whispering conspiratorially between them. It should have felt awkward to have these two strangers clinking around in your home, preparing a meal for you all to share, but it wasn’t. Amidst the gentle clatterings of pots and pans being moved and the rhythmic thudding of knives against cutting boards, it actually felt quite peaceful, even a little familiar. How interesting. Soon enough, a spiced aroma wafted through the air to curl around and warm you from the inside out. If whatever they were making tasted half as good as it smelled, you just might have had to show them exactly how much you appreciated it...with your mouth... Maybe even a few other appendages and parts... But that still remained to be seen. Several more quiet moments passed, interrupted only by the ambient noises from the kitchen and the occasional rumble of your stomach, before YiFan called out, “Where would you like to eat?”

“The dining room will be fine,” you answered, pushing yourself almost reluctantly off the comfortable couch to head to said room. Although you and Chanyeol hardly ever used this room, much preferring to eat together in the living room or at the large island in the kitchen, you made it a point to remove the chair he tended to use from the table. Just because he wasn’t physically there didn’t mean his presence wasn’t there. And so what if that made you possessive? It’s not like either man could talk considering the dynamics of their relationship. Which reminded you that you really didn’t know much about their dynamic, or even them for that matter. Huh. Chanyeol might have vetted them out, but that didn’t mean you were going to just accept his (so-far annoyingly sound) judgment call. You had questions, damn it, and they were absolutely going to be answered. You took your usual seat at the table and began to compile a list of inquiries in your mind. YiFan entered soon after to set the table, though you paid him no mind. However, the delicious smell that had been floating from the kitchen suddenly grew stronger a few moments later, effectively disrupting your concentration. Blinking, you realized that Kyungsoo had also come in and was currently placing a bowl of--

“You made pho,” you stated dumbly as you stared in awe down at the appetizing dish before you. The bowl was filled nearly to the brim with a pale amber broth just the right side of cloudy in which swam a healthy heap of beautiful rice noodles, vibrantly green sprigs of cilantro, scattered stalks of bean sprouts, and ribbons of thinly sliced beef.

“We did,” Kyungsoo confirmed with a gentle chuckle as he set down a plate of thinly sliced carrots, green onions, and garlic along with a couple small dishes of quartered limes and sliced chilis beside the bowl. YiFan pushed the few dishes containing a few sauces and he had brought in earlier to be closer to you before sitting to your left. Kyungsoo took the seat to your right. “Obviously, it’s not as authentic as it could be, but we hope it’s satisfying enough and that you enjoy it.” Without further ado and not wanting to risk sounding like a broken record by proclaiming that they had made you pho, which you had been craving for days now (they were either psychic or Chanyeol tipped them off; either way you had pho!), you picked up your spoon and chopsticks and dug right into it.

You could not be blamed for the deep moan that rumbled through your chest and throat as the flavors practically in your mouth. The broth washed over your tastebuds with its distinctly clean yet savory taste before the spices embedded within the liquid surged forward to ambush them with delightfully spicy stings while the noodles’ subtle flavor and the beef’s richness combined to mellow out the spiciness and deepen the overall the flavor. In a word, it was delicious. So really who could blame you for forgoing all sense of grace and civility by shoveling several more of mouthfuls of said deliciousness down. It wasn’t until Kyungsoo gently chuckled that you put your utensils down and actually took a moment to properly chew your food before asking rather eloquently, “What?”

“Oh, nothing really,” he hummed, mischievous glint sparking in his dark eyes, “it just seems YiFan and I managed to do a decent job.”

This smug bastard… Straightening up, you reached for the glass of water YiFan had taken the liberty of filling for you with a shrug, “It’s not the best I’ve ever had, but it’ll do.”

Now it was YiFan’s turn to chuckle, which earned him a scowled “what” in response. “You really are a brat, aren’t you?” he teased with a playfully arched brow.

“That’s rich coming from a man who-“ Kyungsoo’s own raised brow in silent warning had you biting back the snide remark. “Never mind.” YiFan smirked in triumph. You contemplated punching him in his chest. Deciding against it, though, you turned your attention down to the food. It was only then you noticed that you were the only one eating.

Kyungsoo seemed to instantly recognize the confusion which flitted across your face. “As was said earlier,” he hummed sweetly in that annoyingly rich baritone of his, “YiFan and I wanted to treat you, and you alone, because tonight we are here to serve and indulge you in anyway we can.” He leaned forward, sweet smile deepening into a dirty smirk, to nudge the bowl a touch closer to you. “So eat up, you’ll need all your strength.”

“So it’s going to be that kind of night?” you posited with a smirk of your own.

“It can be if it’s what you’d like that,” YiFan rasped as he leaned back in his seat and tilted his head back just so to stare you down hungrily. Blinking slowly, he slid his eyes over to Kyungsoo, unabashed want still clear his face. “Should we discuss our boundaries now or later?”

“Later,” he rumbled before finishing pointedly, “after she finishes her dinner.” If all that was standing between you and an evening full of fun was just a bowl of sinfully good pho, then you were never happier to obey an indirect command.

“So what’s with the sunglasses?” you managed to ask between bites.

The two men shared a brief yet meaningful look before YiFan responded, “Sometimes I can get overwhelmed easily with nerves and excitement when I know we’ll be playing with someone or something new. Being so stimulated by the anticipation alone destroys my focus on anything that happens before a scene, such as work meetings or pre-scene briefings and negotiations. So having these,” he reached up to gingerly touch the arm of the glasses, “helps me to remain calm and focused because my brain isn’t scrambling trying to encode and understand all the visual cues I’m usually flooded with at any given. Basically, because my sunglasses make everything red, my brain can focus on other sense cues, like touch and smell which are harder and more impractical to reduce sensory input from in everyday life. And plus, these are definitely my style.”

Huh. That was...incredibly logical. Who knew everyday fashion could be used to practice kink outside of a scene. Maybe you could try it with Chanyeol sometime, considering how easily excitable and distractible he could be… Before your brain could drum up any thoughts of Chanyeol squirming underneath you and breathlessly panting, you steered the conversation into a different direction. “So you’re not a professional submissive?”

“Oh God, no,” he practically giggled, bright and goofy gummy grin effectively shattering his suave image (and effectively making your heart do this weird swooping thing that you did not want to think about), with a shake of his head. “I’m far too controlling to be submissive all the time and to just anyone.”

“Here I was thinking you loved being dressed up and bossed around.”

“Oh, I absolutely do. But even an ounce of my submission has to be earned,” he fired back with a wink, his face settling back into his coolly reserved and haughty default expression.

“And will you give me more than an ounce tonight? It’s my birthday after all.”

“I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t like a challenge.”

“How do you know I do?”

“Don’t ask me, ask him,” he answered, jerking his chin at Kyungsoo, who had been quietly observing their playful banter.

“I don’t like repeating myself though,” you lilted before taking a sip of your water.

YiFan chuckled, “Neither does he, so you’ll both get along quite well tonight. So long as you obey him.”

At that, Kyungsoo calmly interjected, “You should finish your dinner before it gets cold.” Recognizing an unspoken ultimatum behind his words, you acquiesced. Once you were done, he wordlessly instructed YiFan to help him clear the table before requesting that you wait for them in the living room. Just as you settled back onto the couch, they entered and each took a seat in the matching set of chairs facing you. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”

“I did,” you admitted candidly, wanting to be done with all the pleasantries as quickly as possible so you all could have this very necessary conversation before (finally) getting on with the night’s festivities.

“Good,” Kyungsoo hummed. Clearing his throat, he began, “YiFan, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, is one of my submissives. I have chosen him to be your scene partner for the evening because the five kinks you listed earlier are five of his personal core kinks, or things he needs to have in a scene. Do you remember the kinks you decided upon earlier?”

“Yes, I do,” you confirmed with a nod.

“Please repeat them so YiFan may know them as well,” he instructed.

Turning to face the taller man, you repeated your list: “Edge play, sense deprivation—but no blindfolds are to be used on me—, leather, bondage, and humiliation and degradation.”

“YiFan,” Kyungsoo called out to gain the other’s attention, “are any of those kinks not something you would like to explore this evening?”

“No, Sir,” YiFan answered firmly.

“Are you comfortable with being part of the scene?”

“Yes, Sir, I am,” he nodded.

“Wonderful. Please explain to her what your role this evening will be.”

YiFan leveled his surprisingly sober gaze at you. “Tonight I am to be the submissive partner in the scene. I am to be used to teach you the art of domination under Sir’s instruction and care as you, to our knowledge, have not had formal instruction despite having an interest in it.”

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo reached over to gently pat his knee before turning to address you. “Are you comfortable with his involvement in the scene?”

“I am, yes,” you answered easily.

“And are you comfortable with the role we would like for you to have in the scene? To be clear, you will both be submissive to myself, though you will have some direction and control over YiFan as I see fit.”

“Yes, I am,” you echoed your earlier response.

“Great. You are to address me as Sir once the scene begins. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” you purred, saucily tossing a wink his direction.

“Good girl,” he teased. “Let’s discuss hard limits now. Hard limits are things you absolutely do not want to experience or include in this scene. For example, the use of blindfolds on you should be considered a hard limit of yours. Correct?”

“Yeah, that is definitely a hard limit for me.” Taking a moment, you carefully considered your own needs and wants. “My hands and feet should not be bound at the same time. Absolutely no scat play or watersports. Way too messy for my liking.”

Kyungsoo chuckled, “I think those last two are hard limits for all of us.” A quick glance at YiFan, who was doing his absolute damnedest not to scowl in disgust but failing miserably by the way his nose refused to unwrinkle itself, confirmed it. “YiFan, do you have any other hard limits?”

“Blood play, foot play, and tickling,” came his emphatic response.

Wait. “Tickling?” you asked incredulously. The first two you could understand since not everyone could handle the sight and/or feel of blood or feet. But tickling? Good ol’ harmless tickling was completely off the table? You just had to laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he whined, his lips poking out in the slightest pout. “I have long limbs that I lose complete control of when I’m tickled so unless you want to get kicked in the shin, kneed in the hip, or punched in the nose, absolutely no tickling.”

Waving a placating hand while using the other to swipe at your tear-filled eyes, you conceded, “Fine, fine. No tickling. Kyungsoo, what about you?”

“I have no other hard limits. We should discuss safewords. YiFan and I tend to use a single verbal safeword or several specific non-verbal cues to end a scene. If you’d like, you can use the system we do; or you have the option of choosing to use the color system, which is where you might say “red” to stop the scene completely, “yellow” to pause it momentarily for any reason, or “green” to continue it. You’re more than welcome to use this system alone or within some combination of ours. Which would you prefer?”

“The system you and YiFan use will be fine. I don’t want to complicate anything or throw anyone off.”

Both men frowned at you, but it was YiFan who spoke. “Nonsense. You are our main focus and concern this evening. We are here to do whatever pleases you most within reason so do not for a second think you’re making things ‘complicated’ or whatever. We’re very flexible—both figuarively and literally,” he finished with a wink.

“I feel like I was just scolded,” you huffed.

“That’s because you were,” Kyungsoo stated simply. “The safeword we use is ‘tango,’ three taps to the arm or thigh is the non-verbal cue. Do you understand?” Once you confirmed you did, he continued on to ask, “Where would you like for the scene to occur?”

“Um, I guess the bedroom will be fine.”

“Are you certain?” he questioned, brows knitted together in concern; YiFan mirrored his expression. “We don’t have to use the bedroom if it will make you uncomfortable during or afterward.”

“No, no. It’s fine,” you assured them. We can use it. It’s the space I’m most comfortable in after all.”

“Alright.” Kyungsoo reached down to grab his duffel bag before turning to smile warmly at YiFan, “FanFan, where would you like to do your stretches?”

“Is it alright if I do them here in the living room? There’s a lot of open space and well…” he motioned at his long, lean figure.

You smirked at him, “Of course. Let me know if you need any help.”

“I’m very good at stretching myself,” he husked with a smirk of his own.

Kyungsoo sighed, “You two are going to be a handful, I can see that now.”

“You should’ve known that already,” you shot back teasingly. “Or did Mr. Park forget to state that explicitly?”

“Oh, I assure you, he told me everything,” the way his voice dipped impossibly lower as he stressed the word caused your skin to ripple with chills, “in great detail. YiFan, come to us when you’re ready.”

YiFan stood with a solemn nod, “Yes, Sir.”

“Now,” he rose from his seat to offer his hand for you to take, “lead me to the bedroom.”

Slipping your fingers between his as you slowly pulled yourself up off the couch, you let your lips curl slowly into a wolfish grin. “Follow me…”

--Admin Lily💋

#exo #exo d.o #exo d.o scenarios #kris wu #wu yifan #exo scenarios #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #happy winter day #happy winter day!🌬#happy winter day!#admin lily

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