#jeong yunho x male reader smut

[star-suh]

The Tall-Man Rider

Jeong Yunho x Male Reader

cw: idol au, sub top yunho, power bottom reader, reader is ateez 9th member, restraints, nipple play, jealous-ish sex, edging, cock ring, degradation, possessiveness, balls slapping, dumbification, facial.

—

it was ateez comeback season so the members had to go to different shows to promote their album and new song. yunho, wooyoung and yn went to a variety show where they had to do challenges and basically have fun accompanied by members from other groups.

it was all fun and games until yunho started to get all touchy with the others, a spark of jealousy was lit inside yn. both guys have had one night stands, even though there are no feelings involved, something in yn wanted to have yunho only for him.

he tried to disguise it but it was kinda obvious that he was jealous of it, even the show’s hosts pointed out but they believed it was just a joke between them.

they finally went to their dorms at night, it was a tiring day for all of them, somw of them just touched the bed and fell asleep immediately. all the lights were off except for the ones of a room, yunho and yn’s room.

yunho was tied up, both hands and feet, in a mating press position. his ass being wide open displaying his smooth hole, his erect dick and balls being displayed in all his glory too. thick, veiny and dripping with pre-cum and also with a cock ring right above his balls so he can't cum easily.

“being touchy with everyone but me” yn stated, “acting like a needy whore searching for some hole to empty these balls” he slapped them with his hand making yunho moan. “so-sorry ynnie but it was just a ga-game” the overpowered top spoke. “shut up, bitchboy boys like you deserve to be punished” he poured some lube on his dick and smeared some on his hole too, “i'm gonna ride you until you pass out. you're gonna be my dildo tonight”.

yn put the tip inside of him already and sit on it slowly, enjoying the stretching sensation. yunho was also enjoying it, “shut up, they're gonna find us” the bottom remarked. he stopped the riding and went to find some tape in one of the drawers to put it in yunho's mouth.

yn spent almost the whole night riding that dick, loving how every time yunho wanted to cum his cock throbbed deliciously inside him and his muffled grunts echoed in the room but nothing came out of him thanks to the cock ring “just like a dildo” yn murmured.

yunho was getting tired, the overstimulation kicking in, he was supposed to cum a long time ago but he was unable to. tears rolled down his flushed cheeks. the tape was slowly coming off due to the drool coming out of his mouth, yn was fucking him dumb at this point.

“you really know how to open me up” yn said softly, his hole squeezing the other's meat signaling he was ready to cum. yunho raised his head to see yn’s hole gripping on his dick as if he didn't want to let go of it, a sight that would make him explode at the spot.

“just a bit more”; “right there yunho, keep fucking me that way” yn moaned while playing with his nipples. the sweat of both pooled on the bed leaving a big wet spot on it. the tape fell off from yunho’s mouth, it was soaked in spit and he also was smiling, after all, yunho was enjoying the punishment. yn whimpered and his body squirmed while cumming, his squirms felt good for yunho’s dick “p-please let me cum~” the slurring words leaving his mouth.

“you've been a good dildo. i think you can cum now” yn stand up and then kneel in front on him, yunho's dick leaning on his face while he took off the ring. as soon as the ring came off of his cock, it exploded releasing all the sperm accumulated in his balls. loud whimpers and grunts filled the room accompanied by yunho's body writhing due to the overwhelming sensation of finally cumming after that long edging session.

yn's face was covered in white ropes, some of the thick liquid sliding down his face. the bottom freed him from his restraints realizing it left marks on it so he kissed the pain away. “you did so well yunho” yn muttered and kissed his drool soaked lips…

“hey yunho why were you screaming last night?” wooyoung asked, “umm i was watching a horror movie ye-yeah” he laughed trying to brush it off. “it must’ve been very scary” the younger replied, “yeah but thankfully yn was there haha” yunho scratched the back of his neck.

“are you ok? sorry about last night” yn apologized noticing the covered red marks on yunho’s wrists, “don't worry, i liked it” he spoke “it was fun being used by you. maybe we can do it again and… next time i could use you too” he winked and smirked, leaving yn stunned. yunho resumed his walking and yn turned around to watch him leave “that was so hot. what the f…”.

[spicyseonghwas]

pretty little bitch - j.yh

pairing :: jeong yunho x male/amab reader viewer rating :: 18+ genres/au's :: blowjob porno lol. (smut) content warnings :: cursing, blowjob (yh receiving), degradation, deepthroating, spit kink, hair pulling, hard dom!yh, brat!reader word count :: original :: 377 ; after :: 378 (big change ik lmao) requested by an anon on my old account (pff wow say the middle of that sentence three times fast lmao)

your guts twisted in a pleasing way as yunho clapped his hand over his mouth in an effort to smother a feral growl. his hand fell away from his face despite his efforts, falling limp onto the faux leather of the car seat. 

yun ho tore his eyes open and looked down at you, his grip on your hair tightening exponentially when his eyes were blessed with the pretty sight in front of him: you, his long-time lover, on your knees between his legs, your face black-cherry-red halfway down your neck, drool sliding down the side of your chin as you happily gave your most fantastic blowjob yet. 

yunho tutted through the back of his throat, throwing his head back into the back of his seat and yanking roughly on your hair with no warning whatsoever. you groaned in response, your eyes rolling up into your head and fluttering closed.  yunho chuckled darkly. 

“what a filthy little slut you are m/n,” he spat, “sitting there on your knees, taking my cock like the pretty little bitch you know you are.”

you only kept doing what you were doing, but you sped up and purposely moaned into his cock. he moaned loudly, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up into his eyes.

“keep being so loud and you’ll get us caught, hm? you want us to get caught like this, whore?”

your mouth was wrapped around yunho's cock and he was beginning to force your head up and down the length of it, so all you could manage for a response was a muffled, slutty moan. you felt your face heat up even more in response to his words, and you closed your eyes and whimpered into yunho’s cock, making him let loose a loud, guttural groan. 

after a few moments of this, yunho actually managed to form a fully developed idea through the fog your pleasurable ministrations were putting in his mind. he grinned to himself, taking hold of your hair and pulling you off of him. he leaned down, kissing you violently for a few seconds before breaking away. he then grabbed your chin roughly again and spat into your mouth, the only words he directed towards his pretty little slut being,

“swallow.”

and you obeyed.

© seonghwas-lighter 2023-2024.

[yuyubeans]

pillow princess

pairing: needy mingi

genre: fluff

wc: ??

As the evening started to settle in, mingi found himself craving attention, watched as you, immersed yourself in a book, seemingly nearly oblivious to his presence. Annoyance bubbled up within him, and he couldn't resist the urge to whine for attention.

"baby~" he called out, his tone tinged with frustration and desperation.

looking up from your book, a hint of irritation flashing across in your eyes at the interruption, it took you months to find this book, what did he want. "What is it, mingi?" you said, trying to mask your slight annoyance.

"I'm bored, and needy" he complained, a pout on his plush lips.

all you did was sigh, setting the book aside for a moment, giving him your full attention. "What do you want to do?" you huffed, trying to be patient.

"I don't know" shrugging his shoulders. "I just want you to pay attention to me."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes, you knew how important it was to make time for your relationship, it's just this book- that's when It dinged

"how about we cuddle, and I play an audio book in the background hmm princess?"

quickly grinned as he jumped into the bed, curling into your lap, inhaling your sweet scent, with a soft smile, she reached out and turned on the audio book "Okay baby, now it's us time okay?" you said, annoyance melting away as you slowly played with his hair, happy whines heard in return, spending the evening reconnecting and enjoying each other's company.

a/n: this is saur cute

© yuyubeans 2024

[m1ngkis]

Sub Yunho is like a drug (18+)

TW: Sub!Yunho, somewhat dom!reader, male masturbation, begging, male tears (we love to see them)

Master list

YuYu doesnt get subby for you often but when he does, he sure makes the most of it.

Watery eyes pleading up at you as he sinks to his knees in front of your sitting form. His hands grip your thighs as he attempts to pull your skirt out of his way.

“God, I need you, baby please. I’ll be so good, I promise. I just need you so bad.” His voice is pitched and whispering but you hear every word and it send the butterflies in your tummy into over drive but if you gave in so easily, where was the fun?

So, you ignore him. You keep doom scrolling through your TikTok feed as he grovels at your feet, begging for just the slightest bit of attention after a long day.

He’d been up since the day before and hadn’t had a moment of rest since so deprived was the best word to describe his state.

“Please, please, please, please! Just look at me for a second. I’ll do anything.” He cries out, gripping your clothes in his slender hands.

You glance down past your screen and the sight makes your knees weak. His tears are falling down his cheeks as his lip trembles. There’s a sheen of sweat on his hairline and a slight tremor in his hands as he looks up at you so desperately.

“So needy.” You sigh, reached a hand down and grasping his chin. He lets out a shuddering breath as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

“Yes.” He whispers as your hand travels up his cheeks until it reaches his dark strands of hair.

You tug hard and he whines, his pleading eyes bleeding into yours.

“Touch yourself.” You smile. “Then maybe you can have me.”

You can see him gulp at the request as he grows hard as a rock. Your hand slips from his hair as you go back to your phone.

“Wait no! I’m doing it! Look!” Yunho scrambles to his feet as he fights with the buttons of his jeans and shoves the denim down to his knees.

You glance up just as his boxers go next and his reddened cock pops out angry and leaking. His legs shake as he spit in his hand and starts stroking the length.

“Oooh shit! Feels so g-good..” Yunho catches your wandering eyes and your name starts to tumbling from his lips.

The warmth and wetness between your thighs is undeniable as you toss your phone and start to strip out of your clothes.

Every article is tossed in his free hand as he whines and moans, his orgasm crawling up his belly and ready to burst.

“Fuck me!” He continues catching your clothes as his hand gets faster and his cock leaks more.

Last but definitely not least, you slip your panties down your thighs and have them dangling at your ankles.

That sends him as he snatches the flimsy material off your skin and holds it to his nose, taking in your scent. “I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me cum, baby please! Please let me cum on you!”

You simply shrug with a smirk as he positions himself over you just as his release starts to coat your skin, thick streaks of white decorating your body.

[freyaphoria]

Bunny Costume

tw: smutish, blood, mafia seonghwa, rope bunny mentioned!

"I told you either you tell me where that bastard is or you die in this room, right-" "Hwa! look what I bough- oh..." Everyone in the room turned to you and looked at your bunny costume.  Seonghwa normally did these interrogation things in the interrogation room, not in his office, which was why you entered his room so comfortably, wearing a cute bunny costume.

A chuckle came from the bloody man lying on the ground, and Yunho, one of Seonghwa's men, kicked him in the face. Just then, Seonghwa's partner Hongjoong came from behind you. "How cute. It contrasts with the blood on the floor. I like it." Seonghwa gave Hongjoong a stern look. "Honey, I have some work to do. Can you come back later?" Immediately shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself and try to hide. When Seonghwa gestures for you to get out with his head, you ran out of the room, with a red face.

"Go and take care of your girlfriend, I'll take care of the rest." Hongjoong put his hand on Seonghwa's shoulder and pulled him away from the bloody man writhing on the ground.

Seonghwa went to the bedroom you shared. He knew he would find you there, but he didn't expect to find you cowering and hiding in a corner of the room. "Bunny? Why did you hide?" You jumped when you heard your boyfriend's voice. You didn't know if it was from shame or because you saw a man covered in blood, but you were shaking. Maybe you thought Seonghwa would get mad at you.

Seonghwa still couldn't get out of that scary mood; as he approached you slowly, he felt like a wolf cornering its prey. "I'm sorry. I didn't know they would be there too-" Seonghwa grabbed your hands that were trying to hide himself, pinned them to your sides, and started kissing you hard. As you began to kiss him too, out of breath, Seonghwa took out the ropes from the drawer behind you. "Since you are a bunny, do you want to be my rope bunny too?"

[kcake555]

Yunho cake 🍰

ateez

[brrrkdslek]

MINGI, YUNHO & THE PROFESSOR!

✦ 2 — YUNHO &

❒ you loved all your students equally. actually, scratch that. you loved them sure, but no one beats your top student, jeong yunho. along with the lowest, song mingi. curiosity takes you on a ride as you find out the two are secretly lovers.

❒ college au, teeth-rotting toe-curling smut, student! yunho, professor! male! reader

❒ cheating, dacryphilia, non-consensual (at first), praising, hickies, semi-public sex, good boy! yunho, nipple play, choking kink, hand fetish, possessiveness, teasing, creampie

"so, this equation here..." you pointed at the written equation on the white board with your dry-erase marker. looking around to make sure the students understood the material, you roll your eyes as a few students start dozing off.

"guys, i know finals are over but don't think i can't reduce your marks to zero right now." you lean against the board and smirk seeing the sleeping students now rising from the dead, sitting straight with the biggest smiles on their faces.

you let out a breathy laugh, "ha, that's more like it." spinning the marker with your fingers, you continue to solve the equation, glancing back at the students every once in a while, especially your top student, jeong yunho.

he was sat nicely in the front row, just where you liked. he works diligently and jots down everything from what you write to what you say. he is a 10/10 student as all the other teachers have said too.

you lick your bottom lip as you stare at the male jotting down notes for a few seconds. he looked so cute today... so cute you just wanted to fuck him full of your cum, and you'll make sure that happens today.

as the class comes to an end, you dismiss the students, packing up yourself but pausing as you see yunho still seated, chin propped against his palm.

you followed his eyes to your hands, which were erasing the white board. you smirk and finish cleaning the board before walking towards a dozed-off yunho, tapping his shoulder gently. "uh- huh?" he looks up and turns red seeing you kneeling at the height of the bench and smiling at him, "oh- sorry! i must have dozed off... i'll get going n-" you pulled him back down, "how about we chat a bit, hm?"

yunho bit back his grin and nodded, eager to chat with his favourite professor. you pull him towards your desk as he leaned against the desk, you sat at your chair, "so, top scoring again, huh?" you grinned as he let out a happy giggle, "only for my favourite professor!"

how cute. you got up from your seat, "i heard you've been tutoring mingi, correct?" he physically stiffens at the mention of his lover, "ah- yes, i've been tutoring him for a fee months now-" "weird. although the too student is tutoring him, he still failed his finals," you slowly crept towards him as his ass hits the edge of your desk, leaning in at the shell of his ear,"it'd be a shame if you were doing something else other than studying, right?"

yunho shivers, hands placed on your chest, pushing you away. but you don't budge, instead you leaned even closer to him, lips brushing his ear, hot breath making him all dizzy. he gripped your shirt, biting back a whimper when you suddenly pull away. "but of course, you wouldn't do that," caressing his cheek gently, you bring his face closer to yours, so that you were only inches apart, "after all, you're my best student, there's no way you'd... do something you're not supposed to, right?"

yunho swallows before nodding slowly. sliding your fingers along his jawline to tilt his chin up, "s-sir, we shouldn't-" yunho felt like his heart was beating out of his chest, he wanted it so bad, he wanted you so bad. but he couldn't, not when- "-mingi is waiting out there for you.' did i get that right?" you smirk as you see his smile falter, absolutely terrified. "h-how, i- i'm sorry...!" he looks down in despair, dreading what you were going to do with him next.

you cooed, "hey, there's no problem. i'm just worried about you," you hold his waist gently and press your chest against him, face only inches apart, "no, sir- i- no, we shouldn't..." ignoring him you kiss up his neck, sending the butterflies in his stomach swarming. "do you really think, mingi, who is labeled as kq's 'himbo' would stay loyal to such a good man such as yourself?" his hands which were on your chest, grips the fabric in his hand, "w-what do you mean?" "now i'm not saying this for certain, but i heard he hooked up with one of the seniors-" "what? no- mingi wouldn't that, he- he wouldn't do that to me..." he began tearing up, "there's no way..."

"would he?" you nibbled at the skin of his neck, hands squeezing his waist gently. yunho bit his lip, he knew the answer well, he just didn't want to believe, he didn't want to believe that mingi would do that to him. he let a tear slip out as he moaned quietly, wrapping his hands around your neck. you slowly laid him on the desk, shoving your things off of it in a hurry. you bit and sucked at his neck like you were a starved man, he whimpered and felt his toes curl inside his shoes.

pulling away, you hum in satisfaction at the disheveled yunho. there were tears prickling the corners of his eyes, hair messy, shirt crumpled, and a big noticeable erection from his jeans. "so, should we?" you lift up his shirt, whistling at you brushed your fingers over his toned abs, sending shivers down his spine. "j-just this once..." you frowned a bit, "just once? awe, i guess i have to make the most out of it then."

yunho coughed out as your hand flew up to his neck, squeezing gently. his hands flew to grip your wrist, letting out a breathy moan, he squeezed his legs together. looking up at you, he bit his lip as he smiled lustfully at you. "you like this don't you?" squeezing harder, he moaned out, music to your ears. you smirked, "i see you watching my hands every lesson, baby. you think you're slick, huh?" letting go of him, yunho whimpers at the emptiness before taking in a deep breath, "i can't believe my good yunho is so," you caressed his cheek, "bad and sexy..."

"sir..." you hummed, "please, i- i want you..." he buried his face in your chest from embarrassment, you smiled widely at that, "gladly." leaning down, you capture the boy's lip in a hot kiss. slipping your tongue into his mouth, he moaned at the feeling, letting you take full charge. "taste so good..." you mumbled against his lips, grinding his hips against yours. yunho whimpered and toyed with your hair, messing it up.

pulling away, a string of saliva connecting between your lips, eyes never leaving each other, your grip on his hips tightens as you rub against him. yunho began tearing up again, shutting his eyes as he cried. you panicked, "oh god, nonono- baby, oh, what's going on?" you hold his face in your hands, wiping the tears that were falling. "i- i can't believe mingi would ch-cheat on me...!" he cried as you held him in your arms, "he doesn't deserve you, love."

you kiss his forehead as he breathes in, "you're such a good man, he's missing out." kissing him again, yunho tangles his limbs with yours, never wanting this to end. he internally curses himself for never choosing you first, he was so afraid just because you were a teacher and he was a student. but now, does it even matter anymore? not just from you, but he's heard from his friends that mingi was a player and fucked around. yunho was pure and gave him the benefit of the doubt, which he regrets now.

you brush his fluffy hair and coo, "i should make you forget about him for now, hm?" licking a stripe up his neck, he only whimpers and pulls you in closer, "would you like that, my love?" he felt his stomach do flips at the nickname, he flashed you a tiny smile before nodding his head. "i should reward you, anyways. you did so well on the exam, my little champ." connecting your lips, you made out with him passionately.

"f-fuck me already, sir!" yunho mumbled against your lips, thighs gripping your hips as he grinded into you impatiently. you laugh, "so impatient," you kiss his cheek, "so damn pretty, yuyu..." yunho breathed heavily, his hands unmoving from above his head.

as you unbuckled your belt and slid your pants off, yunho ripped open your dress shirt and almost drooled at the sight of your muscular bod. sure, it was prominent even when you wore sweaters over your dress shirts in winter, outlining your juicy pecs. but god, seeing it close-up is a way better experience than daydreaming about it during classes.

slidding your boxers down, your lengthy cock sprung to life. yunho's hole clenched and unclenched at the sight of your large girth, eyes begging you to put it in already. and for a moment, yunho forgets that he ever had a boyfriend, just enjoying this moment as much as he could. since he never knew if this would be the first and last time he'd get such treatment.

grinning, you pull yunho close and rub your tip against his hole, teasing him in the process. kissing up his jawine, you muttered against his ear, "'aight prince, this might hurt so hold onto me, m'kay?" yunho shivered slightly as he nodded, a bit anxious about your size. he buried his head into your neck as you slowly pushed yourself in, not even needing lube as you both are both literally and figuratively dripping.

yunho let out a tiny high-pitched moan just below your ear, almost making you go manic. gripping his thighs eagerly, you continue to slowly push yourself in, not wanting to hurt the male. yunho shut his eyes in a daze, the full feeling at his stomach making his body shake with pleasure. you could be inside him forever and he wouldn't ever mutter a word of complain.

you groaned roughly as you bit down on his neck, drawing out a lengthy moan from the taller male. as you pushed in completely, yunho felt your tip brush against his prostate, making his eyes roll backwards. you laugh at the male, gripping his throat gently, "we barely started and you're already close," you tutted, "maybe this will end earlier than i thought, hm?" you pulled out as yunho's eyes widen, "n-no! i... i can hold it in, sir! please, please please!" tears started forming at the corners of his eyes as he pleaded for you pathetically. hands gripping your shoulders as his body still shook.

suddenly, your hips snap forward, filling him with warmth once again. yunho yelped as his toes curled, nails scratching along your shoulder blades, eyes twitching from the pain and pleasure. you nibbled at the shell of his ear as he adjusted with your large genital, "heh, i was only joking, baby~ how could i ever leave a gem as rare as you?" quickly, you catch his lips in a heated makeout sesh, slowly dragging your cock against his velvety walls. you groaned into the kiss when he clenched against your dick, you swore he could've cut it in half with how tight he was.

yunho moaned, tangling his fingers with your hair. he felt like he was in heaven, the feeling so dreamy, yet so real. he felt every pulse, twitch and movement of your cock, milking it along the way. yunho grinned as your grip on his thighs tightened, making him all giddy. pulling away from the kiss, yunho whimpered, "sir, faster please!" laying himself back onto the desk surface, he positioned his arms above his head as he looked up at you with lust in his eyes, begging you silently to fuck him already.

you peck his lip, "you're wish is my command, prince." as if on cue, you began thrusting harshly into the boy, sending waves of pleasure into his body and all the way to his cock, which was holding itself from cumming on the spot. yunho's body bounced with each thrust, moans aligning with the beat of your thrusts. lewd noises of skin slapping and yunho's moans echoed through the large hall, making the two's horniness shoot through the roof.

you leaned down and caught his nipple between your teeth, biting and sucking it. "ah- no, sir!" yunho felt electricity shoot throughout his body the moment your teeth made contact with his already erect nipple, "n-not there, ngh~!" tears fell from his eyes at the overwhelming sense of pleasure he was feeling at the moment. he never wanted this to end, and he never wanted to part from you again.

you bit down at the flesh of his chest, making the boy moan out loud as his grip on your hair tightened, making you moan too. pulling away from his chest, a string of saliva still connected between your bottom lip and his nipple, you look down to see the boy's stomach covered in his own cum. you giggled, "gosh, am i that good?" you caressed his teary face, "i'm flattered." bloodshot eyes look up at you, "will this happen again? i-i just don't wanna be away from you..." he began tearing up again at the thought of him being your one night stand, it broke his little heart. yunho felt your cock twitch and- did it just get bigger?

yunho's eyes widen, "w-why did it just-" "did i tell you i have a fetish for when you cry?" massaging his hips gently, you slowly fucked into him as you maintained eye contact, filled with passion and lust, so much desire, and so much love. yunho's face heated up along with the tips of his ears, "every time you cried to me when you did bad on an exam, i had to stop myself from fucking you right then and there," yunho looked away from your burning gaze, "you can from now on..." you grinned, "i-i don't mind-" yunho moaned out as you sufdenly thrusted manically again.

his hips were bruising at how tight you were gripping it, eyes closed and head thrown back as you continued thrusting into him, groaning every few seconds. you fixed your composure and grinned evilly at the sight of yunho's twitching cock, your hand immediately flying to jerk him off, sending him off the rails.

"ah! sir, wait- mmh~! i'll cum if you-" tightening your grip on his cock, your hand matching the pace of your thrusts, his back arched as he came in got, white ropes, dripping down his dick and onto your hands, you came a few seconds after him, spraying your seeds deep inside him. yunho whimpered at the lingering touch of your warm hand as he watched you bring your cum-stained hand to your lips, tongue swirling across your fingers as you swallowed his cum, the salty taste lingering in your tongue.

just as he thought it was over, you started thrusting again. "what!? ah- wait! that's enough... i-i can't anymore...!" yunho cried at the burning feeling of your cock, his stomached churned at your possessive gaze. "well doll, i need to mark you well, so that you only remember me for the rest of your life~" yunho's cock hardened at the crazy glint in your eyes, cockhead abusing his prostate as he thrusted again and again.

god, he's gonna be so sore for the next month.

©BRRRKDSLEK 2023

[potatomountain]

"Little Pet"

Pairing: Yunho x amab reader

au: Werewolf

Warnings: smut, some degradation- mxm.

Word Count: 1.7k

Network: @pirateeznet

Banner by: @itsnotmydejavu

author's note: i am afab but i consider myself nb. Some friends were talking from a male pov and i got inspired so this is for them <3

You were beginning to think no amount of prep was going to make this act any easier on you, or ever, but since you hadn't tried yet you didn't want the anxiety to get the better of you.

Having a man that towered over you in height and width- who's hands alone could wrap around any part of your body with ease- as your mate did little for your confidence. But Yunho never made you feel bad about your size, not once, he would call it cute even as he rested his arm on the top of your head and watched you pout.

You'd huff that you were a man too and had some pride, which was perhaps the main reason that you had pushed and pushed this part back as far as you could. That and the fact you were very human, how were you going to handle a wolf of this size?

Knowing about his packmates sex lives didn't lessen the anxiety either, the marks they would leave on their partners and the way they would be bedridden the entirety of the next day. Hell Jongho nearly broke the arms of his mate, instead destroying the bed they had been on during his rut.

You weren't scared he was going to hurt you, or that you would break- but what if you were too small? What if he didn't like it when he saw how small you were everywhere.

What if you weren't good enough? What if you couldn't please him?

You already knew what his cock looked like, but never once had you shown yours. Not until now.

He had come to you and let you know his rut was going to start soon and that he wanted to try things before it got to that point and he hurt you on accident. You couldn't tell him the idea excited you, but now you were nervous again.

"Are you sure about this?" Yunho sat on his bed in just his boxers, his bulge obvious and he wasn't even hard yet. Yet here you were in just your underwear and it wasn't even obvious like his.

You nodded, taking a deep breath and stepping closer. "Y-yes." It's not like you hadn't done anything sexual, kissing and making out and fuck could he devour you. Several months the two of you had been dating since he announced you were his mate, but that didn't seem to be enough to ease your worries that one look at you and he wouldn't want you. "I love being your mate I'm just... anxious."

"Tell me about it." He patted his knee for you, pulling you onto it when you stepped closer. "I know I dated girls a lot but your gender doesn't matter to me you know."

"I-I know but- I'm not exactly much of a man either."

He cupped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. "I don't love you for what's between your legs." He kissed your forehead, then your cheeks, nose and finally mouth. "And I very much want you."

Melting into his kisses, he practically chased the anxiety away with those few words. "I'm yours Yunho."

It always made you feel foolish how much you question his desire when he acted like this: like he was going to devour you whole and still wouldn't get enough of you.

"Mm my pet?" He pulled you further against his lap, one leg on either side.

You hummed in response, pressing close and wrapping your arms around his neck. His back was arched to hold you close and still kiss you, hands on your thighs to pull you right against his his growing hard on.

"I've been thinking about this for so long." One of his hands slipped into your underwear and grabbed the entirety of an ass cheek. The growl he let out when his fingers brushed the blug you were wearing was primal and had your own body reacting.

You're cock twitched against the fabric of your underwear, gasping out as he moved his lips roughly to your neck. "You smell so damned good. You'll tell me to stop if it's too much right?"

It seemed Yunho had his own anxieties about this as well, which further eased your own. "Of course baby." You tilted your head to give him better access, breath hitching as his fangs scrapped your nape.

He flipped you onto your back on the bedm hovering over you as he tugged your underwear down and off. Before you could even voice a protest, your legs were in the air and spread, giving him a full view of your bottom. Your hands flew to your face out of embarrassment, watching him through your fingers as he just stared.

"Are you teasing me?"

At the acrylic massive plug protruding from your hole or your clearly small cock, you couldn't tell- but he looked more than pleased: he was drooling. "You prepped?"

"Mhmm- I know how big you are." You whined out, whole body flinching as he reached between your legs, his thumb pressing the end of the toy to push it a bit further in. Your cock twitched, leaking precum in response. "Yunho~"

"Fuck- so tiny all over huh? I love it." He moved his hand up and wrapped it entirely around your cock, smirking at how easily he covered it. "Is this what you were anxious about?"

"Mhmm-" You whined as he twisted it just right, your hips bucking into his hand. "I-I was worried it wouldn't be enough."

For a moment the hard expression of lust was replaced with one of care and softness. "It's enough baby boy. So is your cute little ass and these cute fucking peaks of yours." He moved his hand up and pinched both of your nipples, wolf-like grin replacing the soft frown.

You could hear the slick sounds of the lube both in your hole and as he lubed up his own cock, his lips moving to your peaked nipples and scraping his teeth over them roughly. Things were going so fast you weren't sure you could ask him to stop even if you wanted to- and you mostly certainly didn't want to stop.

He bucked his hips against your ass, watching your expression. "Maybe- depends on if you like it? I can't see with those cute hands hiding that face of yours I adore. How am I going to kiss you?"

Whining, you let your hands fall away, just for him to grab them and pin them above your head. "Hold them there little one- no more hiding."

You obeyed, breathing heavily as your cock was weeping for stimulation. You watched as he pushed your knees up further, biting down on his lip as he stared down at your waiting hole again. "Can I pull it out?" When you nodded, he tugged on the plug, eyes flickering to yours as your breathing hitched and you grabbed the blankets above you. He slowly pulled it out, growing more and more excited from your reaction until the toy was pulled out with a pop. "Fuck I need you."

He crashed his lips down onto yours with newfound desperation, his hands working off his boxers and discarding them to the side. He pulled away only to reach for the lube on the table, giving you only a quick second to breath before he was devouring your every breath with strokes of his lips. You felt empty with the plug, but not for long as he pushed two fingers in with ease, scissoring them to stretch you out. The plug had been inanimate but with the two long appendages moving inside pleasure shot through you straight to your dick and your head.

Not when he pulled his fingers out and reached up to grabbed your wrists, nor when you felt his tip prod your entrance and push in. He pulled his lips away, holding one of your legs up so far your knee touched the bed and you could see his massive cock pushing into your when you looked down. Moaning as inch by inch he somehow managed to fit himself inside you, your head swam with ecstasy and pain alike.

He didn't push in fully, stopping a little more halfway and breathing heavily. "I don't think- fuck I'm sorry pet- I-" He was panting heavily, fangs elongating and nails sharp on your skin. "I think i triggered my rut. Fuck-" With one harsh thrust he pushed in the remainder of his length, a high pitched cry ripped from you. He apologized over and over like a chant as his hips took on a life of their own, brutally fucking your barely prepped hole.

His eyes were bright like his wolf's, the chants turning to growls as he shook the entirety of the bed with his thrusts. You should mind, you should care about the underlying pain under the massive amount of pleasure he was giving you by constantly rubbing your prostate. Your cock was red and weeping, whines and moans leaving you as tears pricked your eyes.

The sounds he made were too guttural to make out most. "So tiny... cute fucking dick... little pet... tight fucking hole-" What you could make out had you reeling with even more lust and desire.

"W-Wanna cum Y-yunho... please..." He had you on edge so quickly, but you were begging for the slightest stimulation on your cock. Something to push you that rest of the way.

He was quick to oblige, large hand wrapping around your tiny dick and applying pressure in just the right ways. You came quickly, crying out his name as white hot spurts escaped his fist and made it onto your stomach and all over his hand.

Did he stop there? No. He flipped your over with ease, one large hand on the center of your back and holding you down as his relentless thrusts continued until you could feel the knot pushed further into you. He bent over your small frame, pinning you to the bed as he licked along the back of your neck.

"Mine- my mate. My little pet- fucking mine!" He bit down, one more harsh thrust before you could feel him filling you up while simultaneously drawing blood from the bite- marking you as his permanently.

Your poor cock twitched from the overstimulation, tears having escaped your eyes from the moment he had flipped you over.

You weren't anxious anymore but you also were well aware that tomorrow you weren't leaving the bed... or maybe all week.

Taglist- none for male specific pieces. If you would like to be, fill out the form on my profile and leave a comment!

[xomakara]

Office Secrets

SUMMARY |  You're in a relationship with your boss, Yunho. Except no one in the office knows that you're together.

PAIRINGS |  Yunho x Reader

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  Manager!Yunho, Employee!Reader, non-idol au, established relationship, smut, secret relationship,

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (female giving/male receiving), praise kink, pet names, office sex, bedroom sex, creampie

LENGTH |  8,502 words

TAGLIST | --

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet

@othersideoutlawsnetwork @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Hi there. Linda here. Here's another Yunho fic lolololol. Thank you @aaagustd for the beautiful banner~ And now I'm going to cry in a corner. Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚

You pushed away from your desk, rolling your eyes as the girls from your team excitedly talked about Head Manager Jeong. They discussed that he is handsome, single, and looking.

It was like they were shopping for him. You were sure one of them was planning to try and snatch him up. You couldn't blame them, but it didn't matter anyway. They would never find out about your relationship with Yunho because no one knew. It was the reason why he wasn't your emergency contact or anything. You didn’t have pictures of him on your phone, and he didn’t have any of you either. You didn’t do couple-like things together like going to a restaurant or seeing a movie. It was always back and forth between each other's apartments.

Your attention was brought back to the present when one of your team members asked if you agreed with the sentiment that Yunho was attractive. You looked around the room, the women waiting for you to answer.

The truth was yes. He was beyond attractive but you couldn't exactly tell the other women that you've fucked him on every surface of both his and your apartment.

"Yeah. I mean he's cute, I guess," you answered before turning your attention back to your computer screen.

"Just cute? Have you seen his face?" One of the women asked.

"I mean I see him almost every day, so yeah. I have."

"That's right, you guys are friends, right?"

You were not going to call your relationship with Yunho a friendship. It was too complicated.

"I don't know, we have mutual friends. So I see him at group outings sometimes," you explained.

It was the truth, but not the full truth.

You saw him all the time, but not in the way these women were imagining. You saw him in the shower. On the couch. His bed. Your bed. You saw him without his clothes on, panting beneath you. Above you. You saw him in ways you were sure they could never imagine. So yes, you would call your relationship a friendship, just not the type these women were assuming.

You continued with the work on your computer, ignoring the chatter about the rest of the company's team leaders and managers. They were all young and handsome and single, so it made sense that you all had been a hot topic at work lately.

Yunho had become the new target now that some of the others had been spoken for. Hongjoong was already married, and you had heard that he was going to be a father. Yeosang had recently gotten into a relationship. San had a girlfriend for the past few months and Seonghwa had just announced his engagement to his longtime girlfriend.

It was the reason why all the women in your department were so focused on the remaining four single men in the company.

Yunho, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho were the only ones who were still available.

But even then, the relationship you have with Yunho wasn't conventional.

No one knew that the two of you were together.

Not a soul.

The secret had been eating away at you.

It had been going on for months now and you were sick of it. You just wanted to be able to hold his hand or kiss him in public. To let the world know that the man is yours.

It was frustrating.

Yunho wasn't just some fling or casual boyfriend. You cared for him deeply and the idea that people would think of him as being available and on the market made you uneasy. He is yours and you are his.

"Team Leader?" One of the girls spoke up, "Are you listening?"

You nodded, "What were you saying?"

She laughed, "We were wondering how you would rate Manager Jeong. He's single, so it wouldn't hurt to let us know. We could put in a good word for you if you wanted."

Your eyebrows furrowed. You did not need the girls to put on a good word for you when he was already yours. The sex was great, his dick was great. Everything was just great.

"Uh," you were about to respond but you were cut off.

"Manager Jeong, you're here."

You looked up and watched Yunho enter the room, nodding his head in acknowledgment. "Ladies, can I borrow Team Leader Y/L/N for a second?"

"Of course. Take your time."

He smiled, before walking towards your desk.

"Is everything okay?" You asked as you got up and followed him into the hallway.

"Everything is fine. I just need you to come with me," he explained as he walked down the hall.

You were confused, but you continued to follow him anyway. Opening the door to his office, he gestured for you to go inside. He closed the door behind you, making sure it was locked before he pulled you close to him.

"Why did you want to see me?" You asked as his lips moved down to your neck.

"I heard the girls talking," he began. "They think I'm handsome."

"I never said you weren't," you responded, tilting your head so he had better access to your skin.

"What would you rate me? They were asking."

"I think you'd know the answer to that question," you smirked as he kissed along your collarbones.

"You're right. I already know." He pulled away, a small smile on his lips. His hands rested on your hips, pulling your body closer to his. "But it would be nice to hear it, wouldn't it?"

"Fine," you could feel his breath on your skin. "You are a 10. Satisfied?"

He chuckled, "It's a start."

You rolled your eyes before he leaned down and kissed you. His tongue slipped into your mouth, the feeling causing a fire in the pit of your stomach. His hands moved down from your waist to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. He lifted you up onto his desk, your legs wrapping around his waist. His lips traveled down your jaw to the sweet spot on your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth. Your hands moved up to his hair, tangling in his soft locks.

"Fuck," you breathed out as his lips moved further down your chest.

"Tell me how much of a 10 I am again," he teased as he nipped at the exposed skin.

"10. Fuck, a 100."

"Mmm," he hummed against your skin, "Good."

"Baby, we're at work."

He didn't care. He moved his hands up the skirt of your dress, grabbing a fistful of the fabric and yanking it up to your waist.

"Don't care," he said as he kissed down your neck and onto your chest. His hands moved to your bra, unclasping it with ease.

"Yunho," you whined. "Someone could walk in."

"I don't care," he repeated. He pulled your bra off, tossing it onto the ground. "Maybe it's time to show everyone that I'm yours and that you're mine. I think the rumors about me need to be addressed and quenched," he stated as his hands roamed across the expanse of skin.

"And how do we do that, Team Leader Jeong?" You looked up at him.

"Oh baby, it's very simple. It's called teamwork. Team Leader Y/N, would you please allow me the honor of helping you and me fuck in my office for the first time? You see, this is something that has been on the to-do list and we can finally cross this out. Not only is this to prove to everyone you're the love of my life, but it also shows everyone that I'm your man," he said softly against the column of your throat before kissing his way to your ear. "Also I want to see what face you'll make with your coworkers only meters away. What about that, Team Leader, will that please you?"

A soft moan escaped from your parted lips at the thought.

Yunho pressed his hips to yours. His clothed bulge was hard, hot, and ready for you, but he didn't give you that right away. Not yet.

His tongue dipped to the top of the neckline of your dress.

"Wait..."

"Please? Be a good girl and let me take care of you, I will take such good care of my pretty girl."

"Did you at least lock your office door? What if someone hears?"

"Already locked it, babe." He pulls your dress lower until your breasts pop free. "As far as your pretty noises, can you try to be good and keep yourself quiet, pretty? Or do you want me to stuff your panties in your mouth? Or do you want my fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet?"

"I'll be good. I'll be good."

Yunho smiles, happy. As much as he would love to hear your moans and screams, he's going to have to wait for that later. He's already excited at how your hair and clothes would look disheveled once you two are done with fucking like rabbits.

He drops a peck onto the crown of your head as he nudges your legs apart. His fingers crawl into the soaked panties, drawing lazy circles into the folds that make you gasp his name.

"Remember, stay quiet," Yunho whispered in a teasing tone. "Unless you really want the entire building to hear you."

You tried your best not to moan. It was a losing battle when his thumb teased your clit, circling it.

"Look, Team Leader, your team is in the area outside this door," he murmured in your ear. "They'll know for sure what we are doing here."

"Yunho." You mewled. "I don't care. I want everyone to know that you're mine. I don't want the rest to think that you're the perfect dream that they can chase," you whimpered.

"You know I only have my eyes on you." He takes your chin between his thumb and finger, raising it to lock eye contact. "You're the perfect dream of mine and I intend on spending every day making you happy. You're my pretty, my baby, mine."

The praise has you whimpering under his touch, pleading for more and more.

It doesn't take long for your slick to drench your panties and it's amazing how wet Yunho can get you within a matter of minutes. The cold air makes your exposed breasts ache but the thought of having sex with Yunho, in his office, is sending you into a heated state.

"My beautiful," Yunho whispers sweet compliments, leaning in to kiss your lips before he sinks into the valley of your chest.

His mouth feels wet and his lips are cold against your skin, nipping and lapping his tongue out for a taste. You clutch your fingers in Yunho's locks, pulling his hair softly in your grasp. The more your sensitive nipples are played, the hotter your body feels.

He's marking your flesh with his hands, tongue, lips, and teeth, claiming you. He sucks and laps his tongue against your nipples while his other hand draws circles with your swollen clit.

"You look so gorgeous," Yunho hums, "All these hickeys look so good." He pulls his hand from between your soaked lips, and he pushes a couple of his fingers into your mouth.

Your eyes lock. You both stare at each other with blown eyes. You taste and lick and moan for his fingers and he curls them around your mouth as a gesture, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Spread your legs for me, babe. Can you be a good girl and let my fingers make a mess of you?"

You nod. Your throat is tight, and it takes all of the willpower you possess not to rock your hips when Yunho pulls your underwear to the side.

Your heart hammers away when you catch the hungry look in your boyfriend's eyes. He dips a digit to the knuckle into you, his fingers cold to the heat between your thighs, and you bite his fingers to muffle your moans.

"Shh," he chides in a husky whisper. His middle finger sweeps along the slick of your walls and curls to rub against the spot inside that sends your back arching and fingers clawing onto Yunho. "If you're loud, I will have to take my hand away and who would take care of your poor pussy?"

You try your best to stay quiet despite Yunho adding more fingers. The fingers of his other hand was still in your mouth and his thumb was stroking the column of your throat. His gentle kisses pepper over the salty skin of your cheeks and chin and along your jaw.

"That's it, my sweet girl. You're so perfect. This pussy is just fucking perfection," he moans lowly and adoringly into the crook of your neck, "you're mine, yeah? Every last gorgeous part is mine to love."

His hand quickens and he drives his digits in further. His own erection was hardening to painful proportions in his pants. You're clamping hard on his hand, but Yunho manages to slip a fourth finger in and curls them perfectly against your spot.

Pleasure winds up at the base of your spine and belly. You moan around the fingers in your mouth, the fingers in your pussy, and you reach out blindly to grab at anything of Yunho.

"Suck my fingers, baby," he coaxes. He watches the saliva-soaked digits sink and vanish down your throat. He revels at the way you're taking his thick, long fingers. He has all his fingers shoved in your mouth, your pussy, and he loves the wet and hot feeling of you taking everything he gives you.

"That's my pretty baby, my good girl," his words are thick with fondness and desire. He can see you're losing your composure; Yunho presses a smile and kisses against the curve of your throat, "You're being so good for me. Cum, I have you, baby girl."

His hand in your mouth retreats to replace your lips with his own. You scream for Yunho into his mouth, the force of your orgasm hitting you like a bus.

Wet and sloppy sounds come from his digits fucking into your pulsing heat. You twitch, and then relax, going limp in his arm.

Yunho releases the suction of your lips. "Feel better?"

You swallow and nod. A flush heats up your neck and your face and a sweat beading against your neck and collar bones. "Your turn now?"

"Anything you want," Yunho removes his fingers from your hole with a soft, squishing sound and smirks at how your inner walls fluttered around his hand's absence. "But first, clean my fingers, baby. They're filthy from your cum."

You don't even protest and just put your boyfriend's cum covered digits past your lips to lap it up and suck the remnants. Yunho growls, not because his fingers are still sensitive to the suction, but because he loves the picture of you devouring the wetness of his hand.

"Good job," he praises and you mewl, knowing he loves to play and praise you in bed. "Good fucking job," he leans down for a filthy open-mouth kiss to swipe a lick into your mouth, to have a taste himself. "Now you can suck me off, babe. And then when we go home, you can ride the hell out of me. How's that?"

"Sounds perfect," you say as you lick your lips, sliding off the desk only to sink unto your knees, hands already working at the belt of his trousers and undoing the button and fly.

"So eager," he chuckled in a low tone, hand petting your hair and lightly taking a hold to angle your head upwards to look him in the eye. "Suck me off, baby. Suck it off nicely so I can come in your pretty mouth."

It takes only moments until your hand grabs around his hard cock and slowly jerks him off, his pre-cum slicking the tip. Then, Yunho is letting out a pleased and shuddery groan when he sees you lick his slit. The soft tip of your warm tongue slides against the heated length.

Your soft, pink lips look absolutely stunning on him. The way you close your eyes to really get the best feel as you bob up and down his length makes his balls tighten and his hips buckle for more. You moan on his dick and the vibrations drive him wild. You begin to focus on his slit again with soft presses, kissing and caressing before taking the full length into your hot and velvety mouth.

When the head hits the back of your throat and you feel your lips against the base, you manage to look up. The way he looks at you with loving, darkened eyes, you just want him to come so hard and messy inside your mouth.

Yunho calls you a good girl, how amazingly gorgeous you are for him and no one else, and the praise makes you ache to please him.

"Such a good job, you're such a sweet girl for me." Yunho coos as he brushes his hands against your cheek. "Ready for me? Fuck, ready baby?"

You feel him throb hard and warm cum shoots out onto your awaiting tongue, and Yunho grunts as he holds himself from slamming hard in your throat. You eagerly drink him and make soft noises as the taste coats your taste buds. You just wanted to savor his essence. He tastes fucking delicious.

"Should we just leave early today, baby?"

You let his dick go with a pop and wipe the excess wetness that had leaked out the corner of your mouth. "We have an appointment with our PR team later, remember?"

"Shit, really?"

"Yeah." You got up from the floor, pulling his head down for a small kiss. "But we can always finish at your place when we are done. You did say that I can ride the hell out of you."

"I did say that, didn't I?" Yunho chuckles.

Both of you straighten up your clothes and made yourself as presentable as you can. Yunho picks up your bra, which lays forgotten on his office floor and tucks it into the inside pocket of his blazer.

"Until tonight, babe," Yunho whispered into your ear as you leaned up to give him one last kiss before unlocking the door and slipping out of your boyfriend's office.

You return to your desk where your coworkers sit gossiping amongst each other.

"You were in there for a while, Team Leader."

"Did Manager Jeong yell at you? Did you get in trouble?"

"What happened there?" They asked.

"Just a lot of boring things, you know?" You lied as you sat down at your desk. "Just some marketing strategies and all that boring stuff you don't wanna hear about. Super uninteresting."

"Nothing exciting, then? Too bad."

"Definitely," you said, grabbing a pen. "Nothing exciting at all."

A few days later, you're sitting at your desk again working late on some data analysis for next month's projected sales. Everyone has gone home for the night so Yunho sits on the corner of your desk.

"Let's go out for dinner. Are you almost done here?"

"Mhmm, a few more reports and then we can leave," you responded. You rolled back the sleeves of Yunho's white button-up shirt as you looked at the reports. It was a little big on you, the shirt hanging off a single shoulder. It seemed like no one knew that it was his.

"I can't believe you wore one of my shirts to the office, baby," Yunho smirked, the sight of his clothes hanging off your lithe frame making his dick hard.

"Whose fault is it that I don't have any of my clothes at your place?" You laughed, leaning up for a quick peck and tugging the ends of his hair gently. "Besides, I only wear the shirts that you don't wear to the office. The girls would die to know that I get to wear your shirts."

"Fair," He kissed you once again before getting up, fixing the collars of the shirt and kissing the top of your head, "Maybe we should just move in together, baby. After all, you do spend more time in my bed than yours."

"Maybe..." You looked over your computer and bit the top of a pen, thinking over the suggestion. "If you give me like seventy-five percent of your closet space. If not, I will need more than fifty percent of space."

He chuckles at your demands. "I think you can just take up all my closet space. So let's move in together, yeah? You and I. One place, all of our stuff."

Your face softened and he found himself falling a little bit harder for your cute expression. "Sounds wonderful. But I expect lots of quality cuddles from the very handsome Manager Jeong."

"Only from Manager Jeong? Not from your boyfriend named Yunho?" He lets out a little pout, one that has you swooning for this big man's charm. "But I'll give you all the cuddles. The highest quality cuddles that one could ever ask for, babe."

"I never realized that the serious, stern team manager was this big baby behind closed doors." You rolled your eyes and snorted a giggle.

"This big baby has a lot of feelings for you," he snickered and grabbed your face in between his two hands to pepper kisses across the soft expanse. "You're stuck with me," he mumbled, then kissed your forehead. "Can't get rid of me that easily. We've been together for a few years, babe."

"What a scary thought," you hummed.

"In all seriousness though, moving in together? Be my official roommate?"

"What a ridiculous man you are." You stuck your tongue out teasingly at him. "I'm all up for it. Yes, yes, a hundred times yes. I'll move in with you. You're stuck with me too, silly."

"Then it's settled." Yunho swooped in to kiss you. "Now finish that report so that we can finally get out of this godforsaken office and eat dinner."

"My hero." You replied, kissing him a few more times. You turned towards your screen once again, cracking a smile to yourself.

After finishing the last few minutes of work and packing up your items for the night, you left your desk.

The company parking was nearly empty except for a handful of people who stayed behind, leaving Yunho and you alone. Your car is parked by his.

"Got everything?" he asked and took your hand, playing with your fingers and rings absentmindedly while waiting for a response. "Are you sure you don't have a toothbrush or underwear or anything else you might be forgetting in there? I don't want any emergency midnight bathroom runs, baby girl."

"You'll buy it for me, Yunho. That's what boyfriends do. Now come on, I'm hungry, aren't you?" You tugged on his hand with a whine.

"You're a brat, babe. I have spoiled you too much, I see," He pressed a gentle peck on the crown of your forehead. "Let's drop your car off at your place and then grab dinner and spend the night at mine? No work, just us together in my bed. Yeah?"

"Hmm, how about dropping off my car, going to your place and ordering takeout, and watching movies in bed, snuggled up and warm under the sheets until we both fall asleep, because it sounds kind of like heaven and I've worked so, so hard today." You mumble with a sulk into his shoulder.

"You got yourself a plan, baby. A very nice plan, too. Let's do what my little darling wants for a change," Yunho, now leaning against your car, opened the door for you and you slipped in, a big smile growing across your face.

You clicked your seatbelt into place and started the car. You roll down the window when Yunho knocks on the glass, pressing a kiss onto your temple.

"I'll be right behind you the entire drive, okay?" He leaned in for a quick peck before fully withdrawing to his car.

"Make sure you do," you shouted, before rolling the window up and reversing out of the parking lot, heading towards your apartment to drop off your car.

From your wing mirror, you can see him pulling out too. The evening sunset catches the windscreen in a glare, but you see his figure behind the steering wheel.

He looks damn good. And all yours. You couldn't wait til you dropped off your car so that you can be in his, feel his long fingers on your thigh as he's driving.

And he does just that minutes later after dropping off your car and making the drive to his place. As the sun sets further in the sky, casting its reddish hues through the driver and passenger windows, Yunho has his free hand on your knee, stroking a soft, reassuring pattern into your skin and sometimes gripping or caressing gently.

And there you were, reclining back in your seat with a little smile, playing with his fingers and tracing random designs as he drove and occasionally holding the tips of his fingers to your lips and smiling shyly at him when the light would turn green again.

When the two of you step into the apartment building and walk towards the elevator, he presses his lips gently against your cheek. You sink into the touch as you both make your way up to his floor.

You slide his keys into his lock to unlock the door and open the entrance to his flat. Yunho sheds off his shoes and blazer, revealing his strong arms and neck in his perfectly fitting button-down and slacks.

You lean back into his chest and kiss the skin where the second to last button is left undone.

"Baby, if you keep doing that, there won't be any cuddles and takeout. I'll just end up fucking you the moment we get into the apartment," Yunho's voice rasped, and his hand curled around your neck.

"Cuddle first, fuck second. Got it," you giggled, tapping his arm for him to let you go so that you could wander his room and rummage into his drawer to grab a black t-shirt. He's so big compared to you, so his shirts practically drape over you and cover your butt and thighs. It feels like a dress and makes you want to prance around his flat and slip and slide on the wood floors and laze on his couch and his king-size bed.

With his shirt on and comfortable panties on, you made your way back to his living room and collapsed on the couch, exhaling with happiness as you smelled his musky and forest-scented laundry detergent that clung to his shirt. You threw your phone on his coffee table and grabbed the TV remote.

Yunho is in the kitchen getting the delivery menus to decide what kind of food to order for you. A few moments pass before he walks to the living room couch.

He sighs, taking the remote from you and muting the show that you had started.

"Hey, I was watching that," you complain, but your complaints turn to happy noises when his hands wander to hold and knead your hips.

"What do you want?" He hummed, dipping his face close to nip at the junction where your shoulder and neck met.

"Hmm?" Your brain had already started to become a little hazy from his attention. His tongue felt like heaven against your skin. You brought a hand up to twine into his hair and arched your back to rub up into his body.

"I asked what you wanted to eat, sweetheart," he chuckled. "What are you hungry for tonight?"

"Ummm, oh," you hummed. "Aren't you just delicious?" You said with a sassy wink.

"You're so cheesy," Yunho scoffed, his eyes softening when he looks at your face, lit up with an unreserved grin. He kissed your nose. "Want to order something spicy and pick a movie so we can snuggle and have you in my lap for the night, beautiful?"

"Yes please. You are always the best snuggler," you nodded. "Get out of your work clothes so we can snuggle to full capacity!"

"Alright, alright, I'm going!" Yunho laughed as he pulled away and disappeared into the other room. He changes, emerging minutes later in a black t-shirt and shorts. He plops on the sofa next to you and you reach out to curl into him.

"Which movie are we going to watch tonight?" Yunho asks as you wrapped your arm around his midsection.

"I wanna watch something scary."

"Of course you do. You love being a little scaredy-cat with my arms around you knowing that I don't get scared easily, huh? You can even play the cliché 'there is something outside' line just to cling onto me tighter," Yunho hummed as he scrolled through his streaming device to find a scary movie. "Scary movie it is."

You stick your tongue out and lay down with your head resting on his thighs. "Someday, I'll pick a horror movie that would scare the heck out of you. I'm going to team up with Wooyoung and Jongho to get you."

"In your dreams, beautiful," Yunho leaned over and flicked your forehead playfully. He settles back on the couch and drapes a blanket over your form before grabbing the remote and pressing play. "Enjoy the movie, cutie. Scream in terror for me." He chuckled.

"Fuck you, Jeong Yunho." You laughed as the title card flashes across the screen and the intro begins.

Halfway into the film, there is a jump scare and a scream from you makes Yunho roll his eyes. You're no longer resting on his lap, instead clutching at his abdomen and clinging to his toned body with the blanket tugged over your head.

You were shaking with fright, although you tried and failed to hide it.

"I told you it was a bad idea," he chuckles. Yunho holds out an arm and pulls you closer until you are tucked into him and his hold. You gasp and squeak each time the main characters react in fear as they are chased down, and even Yunho finds it funny how you squirm at every scare.

"Hate you," you squeak, slapping a hand on his chest. He mumbles that he is sorry and then kisses the top of your head, causing you to forget whatever had you in a momentary fit of irritation.

"Next time, pick a film less terrifying. Maybe one with action scenes and comedic undertones and pretty boys, hmm?" Yunho gives you a teasing smirk and then presses his nose into your hair. "Something to take our minds off of work. That sounds okay to you, princess?"

"Yeah." You sighed, squirming even deeper into his side. "Although, no promises that I won't cling to you more tightly."

He smiled into your hair and you settled down for the duration of the movie, hushed quietly and bundling yourself in the blankets you've wrapped around you.

Once the movie has finished, he sits you both up and stands with the phone. "Now, about that takeout. Do you still want it?" he asked. "I have the delivery service app pulled up. I can order if you like."

"Chicken," You blurted quickly. "Chicken and beer."

He laughs, swiping through his phone screen as he heads into the kitchen and flicks on the oven's dimmest light. You crawl down the sofa and lean to rest your chin on the countertop, admiring him as he leaned over his phone screen and flicked through, scrolling and selecting your favorites, tapping his fingers along the counter, before setting his phone aside.

He turned back around. His mouth widened into a smile at the sight of you looking up at him with a smile.

"How'd I get lucky to have you, baby girl?" Yunho smiled back.

"Duh, you asked," You teased with a roll of your eyes, sticking your tongue out. "Asking me out wasn't so scary, was it?"

"I thought you would've said no. Not that I was asking you out, of course, I was a bumbling fool at the start." He shrugged, ruffling his hair. "Too nervous around you, babe."

"So whipped, this guy," You mused, grinning so widely. "My big bad Yunho got so soft for me."

"Just for you," He blew a raspberry into his hand. "Just for the prettiest woman around."

"Did I mention that you're cheesy? That's right. It is also a full-time occupation and your one true calling, to make me cheesier than the most delicious, aged parmesan in all the lands and oceans."

He snorted in laughter. "You knew well enough that I was cheesy ever since college, baby. But in a good way."

"Your cheese will only keep on impressing and satisfying me. I can't live without your cheese, Yunho. You are a regular gold-star, straight A-cheese. The crème de la crème," You said.

"You're just as cheesy, baby. Even if you want to deny it," He booped your nose and you both laughed.

"Yunho?" You pouted.

"Yes?" Yunho perked up his brows at you and paused to look you directly.

"Can we finally tell everyone that we're together? I'm tired of just our friends knowing. And I'm tired of hearing all the girls talk about you. It's just getting annoying and tiresome, hearing them day and night and...they look at you," you babbled, mumbling, and not really finishing the last part of what was eating at you, as you looked down.

He envelopes you in a hug. "Why didn't you tell me you felt this way earlier, baby?" he whispered as you burrowed your head into his shoulders.

"Wasn't sure when or what the right time was to ask," you mumbled back into his chest.

"I have been waiting for your permission to tell all the people in the department to fuck off because you were mine," Yunho muttered as his hands rested on your lower back and he peppered butterfly kisses into your crown.

"So can I finally tell all the other girls to fuck off when they look at you? Can I finally walk around holding your hands and cuddling you in our lunch breaks? Can you hold me like this at the workplace and give me all of your sweet affections freely?" You murmured, tugging on his sleeve.

"Of course, baby." His answer made you look up at him and smile so brightly and it made his heart melt in the love and adoration he held for you. "Tell everyone you like that you have the sexiest and most handsome boyfriend in all the world. Because it's the absolute truth, darling."

"Love you, love you, love you. Thank you," you giddily hugged and squeezed him tight and he giggled a deep rumble as he rubbed up and down your back, his nose burying into your hair, inhaling deeply.

"I can't believe how whipped this man is," Yunho whispers affectionately. "Falling deeper and deeper in love with you, every day, baby."

"And does this man Yunho know how he will show his love?" You murmured with a cheeky smile, pressing a kiss at the base of his neck.

"How about I let this man make love to his girlfriend and he will show his love so deeply tonight?" His voice dropped as he grabbed your chin and tilted it to make eye contact. "Will that please and satisfy my baby girl?"

He didn’t give you a chance to reply. You moaned into his mouth, body pushing up to meet his touch. He huffs and presses kisses along your jaw. His mouth and tongue trails the smooth column of your neck.

He marked a hickey on the curve of your shoulder and his grip on your hips becomes slightly tighter. You heard him whisper your name between grunts, hands tangling into your hair and pulling at it slightly.

You smile and giggle at him with a smirk, cheeks slightly flushed as you trail your hand up to rest on his chest.

"Eat first, fuck later. You promised," You gave him a teasing smile as you shook your head and put your finger up to his lips.

The doorbell rings and the delivery man is here with your chicken dinner and Yunho lets out a string of curse words. "You're really evil, baby, making me wait." He mutters.

"I need to be fueled and filled first to satisfy my hungry baby and to give him all the pleasures and orgasms, yeah?" You coo.

He breathes. "Damn right you're gonna get filled," he promises darkly, "so don't complain if your legs give out tomorrow. It won't be my fault, baby. It won't."

"Hurry and get the food, Yunho." You whined, shoving him away.

Yunho quickly makes the trip to get the food, paying the delivery man extra and sending them on their way.

He returns back to the couch, sighing with frustration at you. "You know, you're gonna pay for that."

"Pay for what? I'm just hungry!" You smirk with a lilt of sass. "Aren't you? Feed me, please. Then you can have whatever you want after you feed your hungry girlfriend."

"What I want is already in front of me."

You woke up in Yunho's arms the next day, your head on his chest and tucked securely under his chin. It was only Saturday, but somehow, it felt nice to wake up, knowing that there wasn't much to worry about at work. Just staying with Yunho at his apartment and getting comfortable together in the warmth of his covers is a win-win and well-needed for the weekend.

Yunho shifts, his arms circling your waist and tucking you deeper in, the covers nearly tucked over your head.

It's so warm and you sighed with happiness into his chest, a smile blooming on your lips, nose nuzzling into the crook where his neck and shoulder met.

He stretched, yawned, and groaned, a husky growl escaping his lips as he grabbed you by the waist and dragged you up so you're nose to nose with him.

He squints his eyes open and they brighten when they make contact with you. "G'morning, cutie pie," he rasps, his voice deep. "Sleep well last night?"

"Best sleep ever. Especially in the arms of the best cuddler ever in the universe."

"Anything you'd like to do today? Let's eat breakfast."

"You know what I want for breakfast?" You murmured, your hand reaching for his already semi-hard cock and pumping it slowly.

"Are you asking me to feed my hungry baby for a morning meal of protein, huh?" Yunho's lips curled, one brow raising and his eyes half-lidded, lust creeping into his expression.

"It's the best thing to ever wake up to and eat," you purr as your hand moves to the hem of his boxers and dip your hand inside, gripping him and feeling him in your palm as it twitched at your touches.

Yunho growled and pushed your hand onto his hard length.

"Gimme what I want. I'm hungry, baby. Please." Your voice is low and needy. He throws his head back and it was just such a sight seeing his Adam's Apple bobbed up and down.

"You and your 'morning snack,' princess. Of all things to be greedy with." Yunho grunts when you let go to pull at the waistband of his boxers, shoving them down and his erect member springs free, bouncing upwards.

"Just hurry up and feed me. Please, sir."

His gaze darkened.

"Call me sir again. I want you to." He smirks.

"Please, sir. Let me lick your thick meat popsicle," you muttered into his ear and he lets out a soft noise, chest rumbling with an amused sound of arousal.

"When have you gotten this lewd, baby?" he smirks and his large hand pulls you closer, his fingers flexing at the swell of your ass.

You kneel at the edge of the bed, eagerly taking his length in hand and leaning forwards to lick a line up the underside. Your tongue teases his slit before swirling around the tip, taking him fully into your mouth and bobbing your head. His large hand cups the side of your face and tugs gently on your hair.

He is lost in the sight. Your fingers curl around the base of his cock, and you work it in conjunction with your mouth to take in as much as you can. He twitches against the inside of your cheek.

"Fuck." You whimper when his hand tugs at your hair harder.

"More, beautiful. Let me hear you choke more around my dick. Love to hear your little noises." He chuckles darkly and you are keen.

Your throat is relaxed now, accustomed to the fullness, the thickness of his heavy cockhead sliding deep enough to bump the back. You gag, swallow, and take him further, hearing the strangled moan leave his throat, as his head drops back and his hands find their way into the back of your head. His hands tangle through your hair, twisting in it gently. He breathes a ragged sigh, and tugs your hair, thrusting into your mouth.

You sit there, blinking up at him with your doe eyes, your mouth full, so stretched and sore.

It is one thing to see his face in his daily life, where he is nothing more than a strict superior, handsome beyond words. Another thing entirely, you think, to have this incredible man fisted in the palm of your hand and shivering at the ministrations of your skilled mouth. He looks good like this, in disarray.

"Fuck, I need to be in you. Your mouth isn't enough, pretty girl." He mumbles.

He helps you up, giving you a soft look when you turn away with a flush on your face as you wipe saliva off of your face. He can't help tugging at his lips and chuckles, pressing a wet kiss into the column of your neck and holding you back into the nest of blankets, pinning your legs around his waist, and wrapping your arms around his neck.

His hands splayed across your backside, the other sliding between your bodies, stroking down your abdomen, leaving you a shivering mess in the way he pressed and touched every sensitive spot you had. Your legs tighten around him, your moans encouraging his touch to grow rougher.

"Fuck...hurry," you pant as you rut against him and he coaxes a moan out of your lips when his tongue twists around your nipples. He laps, sucks at one nub, then the next, switching from breast to breast until the pink buds stand perked. He grinned smugly up at you when you mewled helplessly into his neck. "Yunhoooo~" you pouted.

His hand was in between your bodies, thumb at your clit, index teasing your drenched lips, his other arm curved and pulling you even closer.

"Let me fuck you so deep," he murmurs, and slides the tip of his fingers along your slit. "I'll fill you, so, so deep," and he slips one finger inside, and you moan. "So very good, my sweet baby. So wet and needy," he sighs when he takes his digit away.

He stops, breath panting, staring deep into your eyes. He gives a brief, lazy smirk before the corners of his lips curve down into a soft, genuine smile. He leans to press a gentle kiss onto your forehead before whispering a husky 'I love you, babygirl."

"Love you, sweetheart," you exhaled and took in another sharp breath when he rolled his hips, grinding his thick cock along your folds, coating his length in the arousal of your pussy.

He positioned himself above you and he didn't even hesitate to slide his thick cock into your swollen lips.

"You're so fucking hot," he groaned, wrapping both of your legs around his waist, gripping your ass to lift you, burying himself deep inside you.

"Oh God." Your head slammed into the mattress and you panted, gazing up at him with furrowed brows and glazed eyes.

"Do you feel me, baby?"

"I—Yes..." you moaned, and Yunho grunted softly, thrusting into you. He pumped inside of you, kissing along the curve of your shoulder.

"F-fuck," you moaned out. "Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck, yes. Keep going,"

"So demanding," he growled. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against your collarbone, his warm tongue flicking out briefly to graze the soft skin.

You squirmed beneath him. The steady slapping sounds of wet skin echoed throughout the room. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.

Yunho's cock pounded into you mercilessly. He groaned out, loud and deep in pleasure, one hand stroking the softness of your curves as he gazed at your naked form.

"You're fucking amazing," Yunho muttered against your skin. His eyes focused on you as he continued to push inside of your heat. "The best fucking view to wake up to."

The fire in your stomach tightened. Yunho could tell your legs were beginning to feel weak from being wrapped so tightly around him and he slid his free hand to your ass, pressing you deeper against his body.

You wrapped your arms around him and grasped at the smooth, toned planes of his back. You bucked wildly as he brought your body flush with his, his cock reaching as deep as it could go.

"God, just fucking cum inside me. Mark me. Fill me up." You whispered, staring at him, into the depths of his chocolate brown eyes.

Your body was slick with sweat, you were becoming more and more lost in a trance. You loved him and that was all you cared about, right at that moment.

"Baby." Yunho gripped your thighs roughly, leaning forward so his lips ghosted across yours as he breathed. "Gonna cum."

You took his lower lip into your mouth. You nibbled lightly, kissing and tugging at it while you moaned.

Your heart was swelling from the amount of affection flowing through your veins. You released his lip, staring deep into his eyes. "Me too. So close," you panted.

"I'm—fuck! Baby, I'm so close." He whimpered out and squeezed his eyes shut.

"J-just fuck me deeper, deeper." Your legs shook against the curve of his waist. He nodded and smashed his lips against yours, muffling your loud scream with his mouth.

"Agh, baby, I'm cumming," Yunho huffed in his final few thrusts. His hot seed spurted inside of your womb. His deep and low groans joined your breathless whimpers and squeals.

When Yunho pulled his soft cock out, a heavy stream of white spills out of your cunt. Your whole body tenses with pleasure, a heavy wave of orgasm washed over and sent you shaking as you whimpered out.

Yunho groaned and pulled your into a tight embrace, tangling the sheets and blanket messily around you as he clung onto your body to keep you warm.

"Baby," He mumbled softly, planting soft kisses all over your cheek as his fingers slid gently into your hair, and traced little circles on your scalp, making you giggle a little.

"Did you feel satisfied now, love?"

"Mmm yes," you smirked happily and returned his kiss with another little kiss on his nose.

Yunho pulled the sheet up and around you both, laying on his side and pulling you towards him as he pulled the covers and pillows towards him, you both got comfortable and cuddled in each other's embrace, no sounds save the sound of you both breathing and inhaling in your lover's scent and enjoying your little pillow talks and whispering to one another.

You spent the rest of the weekend with Yunho as you discussed and looked at places to move together to a bigger apartment where you both could build and start the new phase of your life together as boyfriend and girlfriend.

"You and I, love. Us against the world. Can't wait for the future to unfold." Yunho grins happily, taking your left hand and placing a tender kiss at the base of your fourth finger, hinting subtly to an unspoken promise he intends for the near future.

"Me too, baby. I want this future. Our future." You gushed, pulling Yunho's face to give him a loving and long kiss.

The weekend has gone and a new work week begins. Yunho pulls up into the parking lot with you, holding your hand as you both walk into the building together.

Every girl in the office gaped. You and him, in matching clothing and dressed sharp for work, striding hand-in-hand, greeted them with a cheerful smile and hello. Yunho had an arm wrapped around your waist, guiding you towards the reception, towards your department.

The two of you pressed the buttons of the elevator at the same time. It dinged, sliding open to allow you to board and ride up.

One by one, the ladies in your office filed in behind. It was so crowded now that some were forced to wait until the next round.

Then your group stopped at the floor that the Marketing Department was at. Your desk was further down, closer to Yunho's office and that was the best part of your day- being so close to him.

Everyone went to sit down at their respective desks, booting up their PCs and sorting files that were due at the end of the day.

And of course, this meant that there wasn't a moment to breathe once everyone realized that you had come into the building holding Yunho's hand, walking with him.

As soon as you parted from Yunho and sat at your desk, the girls from your team crowded your personal workspace with a giddy gasp.

"Team Leader! How did this happen?!" One girl squealed.

"Are you and Manager Jeong...?" Another began, before raising an expectant eyebrow.

"So? Tell us, please!" They chirped in a group.

"Manager Jeong and I..."

Just then, Yunho approaches your desk, his hand resting on your shoulder. He leans in, brushing a small kiss on your cheek. "Let's get lunch later, okay baby?" He spoke so tenderly that your heart fluttered and butterflies swarmed your belly.

You blush and nod shyly as his eyes and smile meet yours, watching as the others in the department can't contain their excitement and awe.

The way he talked to you, how he looked at you, his genuine sweetness and smiles he showed you...you knew that your days would get even better with him. And this wasn't going to end, no.

Yunho was the love of your life and he was very determined to keep it that way.

No, nothing was going to separate what you two had and the fact you and Yunho were boyfriend and girlfriend was not a secret anymore and neither would anything change- you'd be there for him and he'd always be there for you.

[atozfic]

splish splash.

pairing. san x seonghwa x wooyoung x yunho x fem!reader synopsis. they’re out to prove who’s the best at the breast-stroke- gets dragged off stage as the people boo over such a terrible pun. warnings. no use of y/n, swim team au, lifeguard!reader, pro-swimmers!sanhwawooho, they’re all wearing speedos :), smut ( porn with unnecesary plot, degradation, m+f oral sex, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, triple penetration bc u got 3 holes for a reason sweetcheeks, mxm interactions, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, hair pulling, way more warnings that there’s honestly no point listing, just know this is pure filth that covers most bases of stereotypical fanfiction smut, mother in christ what have i written? ) no verbal consent is given throughout this but all parties are willing participants !! word count. 20k+ ( of literal porn. i need to leave this physical terrain bc i am not worthy of existing after writing this i fear. ) hyde’s input. hey girlie pops, long time no see.

it’s crazy, what some people will do for money.

take, for example, your roommate. she’s a smart girl. a beautiful one, too. with a promising future in criminal law, once she gets herself that pesky little degree. and, yet, she’s funding her tuition with money she earns distributing high-end drugs on campus. rather counter-productive, most would agree. or, in a far less extreme version, there’s that overly-hyper frat boy, who can always be found doing the dumbest dares at a party, all for a few bucks and a keg of beer.

and then there is you.

you would have arrived home twenty minutes ago at this point, had things gone to plan, a backlog of neglected assignments and a baby bonsai tree in need of watering desperately awaiting your return. yet here you are, stuck in your ugly flip-flops and uncomfortably stale shorts, whistle around your neck and a look of exhaustion on your face.

the swimming pool had closed, technically, an hour and a half ago. the sports centre seems to believe, however, that certain members of the college swim team reserve the right to use the pool for however long they require and desire, even if it is at your expense. if you were being paid overtime, perhaps you’d have a more positive outlook on things and less of a frown creasing on your forehead.

if the swimmers weren’t so irritating, maybe you’d enjoy the view.

“all that height, and for what?” the sophomore boy’s voice- jung wooyoung? you aren’t overly familiar with him, seeing him only in sporadic flashes when you pass each other on campus or at some uncivilised frat party- echos through the large room, his hair a wet mess. if you were gaining anything from being here, you’d perhaps muster up the energy to remind the boy of how a swim cap is necessary at all times in the water. “can’t even out-swim me with those long legs!”

“wanna know what my long legs are for?” jeong yunho, a junior with the face of an angel and the body proportions of a sinner, pipes up from across the olympic length pool. unlike the other boy, a crimson cap keeps his own locks out of sight. “climbing up the stairs to go fuck your mom!”

it’s impossible to stifle your laughter, no matter how hard you try to just play it off as a tickle at the back of your throat, a cough forcing its way out. when your eyes meet those of the glaring senior, however, you’re wishing you hadn’t made a sound.

“even the lifeguard can’t take you seriously, yunho,” park seonghwa speaks, eyes not leaving yours as his muscled arms work to pull himself out of the water, before letting his well-rounded behind sit down on the edge. a breath hitches in your throat as his gloriously muscled thighs come into view, drops of water cascading down them in a pattern set to hypnotise you, keep you staring a little longer than is good for your health. “bet she’s heard all about you and the boner incident of 2019.”

truthfully, you have no clue what the dark haired male is on about. that doesn’t stop you from laughing again though, this time a little out of malice and a lot because it’s quite endearing to see a loudmouth like jeong yunho be silenced so easily, head bowed and ears a little rosier with embarrassment.

this small moment of peace is soon shattered by the reality that these boys can’t spend more than ten minutes in a room- particularly one that includes a pool- without arguing. while one boasts about his speed, the other begins to jab at his lack of endurance, and the remaining of the three reminds them all of the fact he holds the most medals amongst them.

“are they always like this?” you jump, surprised by the cold drop of water that lands on your exposed thigh, all courtesy of the boy who’s invited himself to sit down next to you on the bench.

“not always,” you bite at the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to not look at san in all his wet glory. you’re afraid that, once you start looking at him, you won’t be able to stop. it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen victim to the crime that is his enchanting smile. “guess they’re feeling a little feistier than usual, with the district championship just around the corner. rumour has it one of you guys is risking his scholarship if he’s not in the top three.”

are you and san close?

that’s a good question. see, by social standards, you’re not strangers. you share several classes, you attend the same parties, you’ve even texted a few times- mostly on the days one of you miss class (read as: san misses class thanks to his swim-meets) and you need a copy of any notes taken that lesson.

but, you aren’t exactly friends either. you don’t go out of your ways to spend time together, you don’t know more than the surface level about one another, you don’t check-in with each other.

so, is acquaintances the best word to describe you two?

that depends on how common it is for an acquaintance to suck another acquaintance’s cock. granted, there had been a lot of alcohol in the mix, on both ends, with you drinking to forget a botched assignment and san drinking to forget how badly his voice had apparently cracked in front of his crush.

a few weeks have passed since the incident and things haven’t exactly been the same. you’ve missed class twice and ended up contacting heather- a sweet girl who sits down by the front and seems to live with her hand raised in the air- for any notes. likewise, san has found himself declining party invitations, the knowledge that you would be there all too prevalent in the front of his mind.

the irony is that neither of you quite know the reason why you’re avoiding each other, you just are.

or, were, until san had walked in with his swim team buddies- if they could even be considered that- and spotted you in your lifeguard attire. he hadn’t been as slick as he thought he was, sneaking glances at you between laps and even gaining an undeniable smile each time he watched you blow that stupid whistle at some misbehaving kids.

he was slicker with the fact he didn’t need to be here, at this hour. but, he figured staying gave him the chance to stare at you a little longer and, maybe, think up an excuse to talk to you.

“i should-”

“i missed-”

you both speak at the same time, minutes after watching the three musketeers disappear into the locker rooms, with the smallest of them continuing to dig at them for not being able to out-swim him despite their ample amount of height. san’s quick to signal you to go first, a dimple making itself known on his face and reminding you of the deadliest part of him: the false innocence that drips off him like warm candy.

sweet, sticky, making a mess all over the place.

“i should probably start cleaning up.” it turns out san also isn’t discreet when it comes to hiding the disappointment in his face, because no sooner than those words leave your mouth, the dimple is gone and he’s sat a little straighter, a little more ridged, like when the professor points him out in the middle of the class and the golden boy can’t stomach all the attention being on him. “but, what were you gonna say?”

“oh,” and it’s like he’s just remembered that yes, there is something he wants to say. “i missed you in class yesterday.”

it catches you off guard, leaving you to almost drop the whistle you’ve been fiddling between your fingers for the past few minutes. something about sitting so close to him while both of you are dressed so scantily has you feeling unnerved, like you need to run away as fast as possible, yet also wanting to plant yourself right in his lap.

“i didn’t think,” you’re cut off by your own throat, dry and desperate for a drink under his intense gaze. san is a walking contradiction, you think, with his sharp cheekbones and soft heart, his intense eyes and his easy-going smile. his presence gives you never-ending whiplash, never sure if he’s more angel than devil. “i didn’t think you noticed.”

“how could i not? there was no one to laugh with me at professor nam and his weird toe-shoes!” his laugh is infectious, willing your own to make an appearance. 

the sound of distant muffled yelling fills the air of the swimming pool and it isn’t hard to recognise wooyoung’s high-pitched laughter amongst it. clearly, their childish arguing has carried on into the changing rooms. it surprises you in no way, already more than used to their antics.

their rivalry is one for the ages, all of them constantly bumping heads for the spot of the top swimmer on campus, their sports scholarships becoming their pride and joy.

you suppose it doesn’t help that all four boys run in different circles, only really crossing paths when faced with swim-meets and days of practice. the senior, park seonghwa, runs with the richer kids of the college, all sharing their trust-funds and god complexes as a common interest. you’re not overly familiar with them, though you’re certain he and a particular blue-haired boy are rarely seen apart. jeong yunho, the tallest, is in with the jocks, which is mostly just because his taller friend is the captain of the basketball team. and jung wooyoung tends to surround himself with the stoners from the school, something you’d learned from kang yeosang, a dealer you shared a couple classes with back in your first semester.

san, ever the golden boy, drifts between a couple different groups but he can usually be found alone and enjoying his own company, if not being followed by a flock of his own little fan-club, men and women alike begging for just an ounce of his time.

your name echos around the room. your head snaps to the side and you find that san is now closer, staring at you in a way that’s making your insides knot up. you’ve seen that look only once before, and it done nothing but leave your knees and your ego bruised. “were you listening to me?”

“what? uh, yeah, i was,” you’re quick to lie, knowing it’s about to backfire when he breaks out in a challenging grin.

“really? what did i say?” he only allows you to stumble over words for a minute before cutting off your incomprehensible speaking when he grabs at your chin and tilts your head up, staring straight into your eyes. “that’s what i thought. you were too busy getting lost in that pretty little head of yours to pay attention to me.”

you stutter over a noise and settle for that as your response, though entirely incomprehensible and nonsensical. the way he continues to stare at you feels cruel, demons dancing around in those pretty eyes of his. demons that are telling him to tease, torture, torment the fragile eyes staring back at him, the same ones he’d delighted in watching fill up with tears a few weeks back, the pressure of his crown slamming against the back of your tight throat entirely overwhelming you to the point of crying, tears dripping down your cheeks and mixing with your own drool pooling over the swell of his balls.

“need me to repeat myself?” you’re slow to catch up to the fact he’s speaking again, and even slower to notice the hand resting on your knee. at first, you think you’re imagining things, the feather light tracing of nails over your soft skin a mere figment of your imagination. but, no, your eyes flash down to glimpse and his hand is there, fingers dancing over your naked skin like it’s their own personal stage and he’s intending to put on the show of a lifetime. he speaks your name. “questions are meant to be answered.”

“i-” san picks the perfect time to apply pressure on you, hand gripping the flesh on the lower end of your thigh. goosebumps spring to life at the feeling of his cold ring on your damp skin. it takes a shaky breath to try compose yourself but you do eventually manage to get a reply out. “sorry... please say it again.”

“huh,” he pauses to contemplate, slowly leaning his face closer to your own, giving you all the time to pull back if you want to. you stay still and his minty breath infects your senses while the hand on your leg replaces your thigh with your face, the grip he has on it forcing blunt nails to nip at your skin. normally, you’d worry about the marks it’s going to leave behind. right now, you want him to grip tighter, dig deeper into your flesh till he’s drawing blood and licking it off your cheeks. “how the fuck do you still sound so cute begging?”

“is that,” his other hand curls around the back of you, finding a resting place on your hip. the window of opportunity you once had to pull back or run away is slammed shut the moment he tugs you a little closer, the side of your body crashing into his naked chest. “what you said earlier?”

“oh, no.” san almost sounds like he’s cooing, a mocking tone in his voice that has your thighs clenching in a way you’re sure he notices. his eye flickering down to glance at them confirms your suspicions, the smirk taking over his features the metaphorical cherry on top. “i was just talking about how i’ve still not returned the favour.”

mind blanking out on you, you stare back at him in what you can only imagine to be a dumb-founded look, mouth slightly agape and teasing your answer.

what follows, however, is a resounding silence on your end.

“c��mon, princess, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what happened the last time i got you alone.”

forget? it’s all you’ve been able to think of every time you’ve seen him since, whether he was a figure in the corner of your eye during class or making his way down the campus car-park in search of his beaten up mustang.

each time, like an old record player, your mind plays on loop the way he looked staring down at you, long legs spread enough to fit you between them, closing in on you to trap you in place each time you swallowed him a little deeper; replaying the symphony of whiny moans and airy breaths you’d pulled from him, lips swollen and red from trying too hard to hold back his cries of pleasure; reviving the memory of his vice grip on your hair, tugging at the roots to tilt you back into the perfect angle for his hips to piston into your warm mouth, meeting his own crescendo in one final pathetic whimper of your name.

a whimper that’s pushed you over the edge several times since, fingers soaked in your own sins and mouth biting down on your pillow to keep your poor sleeping roommate oblivious to your actions.

“no,” an answer escapes you alongside a shaky breath, something about the way he’s slowly trailing his fingers down your neck and the intensity he’s staring at you with hypnotising you into forgetting all about the boisterous boys and their changing-rooms chanting. “haven’t forgot.”

it’s his turn to stay quiet and you begin to wonder if he’s recalling it too, if he’s reminding himself of how easily your bodies melted together, like candle-wax meeting a flame. the question of if he’s thought about the exact scene, hands stuffed down his pants while a dull ache builds in his wrist, burns the tip of your tongue.

but his eyes burn you more.

they’re usually wide, bright, full of that bubbly nature san is known all over for. but, if what people say is true and the eyes are the mirror to one’s soul, then san’s soul must be a dark pit made up of lustful glares and hooded eyelids, resting so low his eyes almost appear shut.

“then, don’t you agree that it’s my turn to have a taste?”

it’s the question to end all questions, no time to even think of forming an answer when his fingertips are dancing over your skin so rhythmically, like a practiced choreography when they curl and wrap themselves around your neck. they rest there for a heartbeat, and then another, before you feel it begin.

the pressure is dull, at first, and you think you’re imagining it. but it grows, like a seed under the sun, blossoms into thorns squeezing around your airways, a deformed rose made from the red marks his fingers will be sure to leave behind.

you try to breath in, only for it to get caught somewhere between your lips and his tightening hold.

“you’re too fucking pretty, you know?” the hand on your hip has found a new home on your cheek, palm warm and thumb rough as he swipes it over your bottom lip. “all i can ever think about around you, even when you were drooling all over my balls.”

you want to answer, you really do. but between the hand around your throat and the heat shooting straight for your core, burning up in a puddle of arousal, you can’t. all you can do is watch the man before you, raven hair a beautiful mess just begging for some fingers to be ran through it and stare promising to ruin you in the best way possible.

the silence pleases him.

“y’know, it’s so hard to get you alone. always got someone wanting to talk to you, stealing your attention. do you even know how many stupid parties i had to attend to finally get the chance to talk to you?” san pauses, like he’s waiting for you to relay an answer, guess a number. he loosens up the grip on your neck, teasing your skin with a few soothing strokes of his slender fingers, lulling you into a state bordering insanity. “no answer, angel? or are you lost in that pretty little head again?”

“i’m,” your voice is but a whisper, raspy with your new found thirst. “trying to figure out what you want from me.”

if it’s the wrong or right thing to say, you’re soon to find out, the sharp faced boy releasing a dangerously low chuckle as he takes a hold of your chin. like a pretty doll, you move any time and any way his fingers command you to, finding yourself staring right up into his eyes, a swirl of melting caramel that reminds you of how sweet yet sultry every inch of him is. lips near touching, he refuses to break eye contact as he speaks up once more, sealing both your fates when his breath hits your face.

“then let me show you what i want.”

his mouth comes down on yours like it’s the answers to all your prayers and, yet, all your nightmares.

it excites you how easily he works his lips over your own, captivating every inch of you when he tilts his head to the right and deepens the kiss. the rhythm to his kiss is a mismatch of beats, where one moment your lips are moving in a sensual waltz, grazing tongues and dipping heads to get rid of that inch of a space remaining between your bodies, and the next moment your tongues are tangled in a tango, the kind where his teeth send blood rushing to your lips with every bite he drags over them and his hand drags shivers down your spine as it makes its way down your body.

yet it terrifies you how willingly you succumb to san’s touch, intoxicated by whatever witchcraft he currently holds over you. there’s a deadliness to the way his lips part from your own only to begin a seamless descent down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, a poisonous element to the way his hand once again finds itself clutching the meat of your thigh.

the moment his fingertips meet the bottom of your shorts, you’re wishing you’d never slipped them on in the first place, every fibre of your being growing angsty under the weight of his suddenly halted hand. it stays still for an immeasurable amount of time, grazing over the bottom of your shorts occasionally while he continues to mouth at your neck.

like mosses and the great sea, san parts your legs with little to no effort, creating a pathway for his fingers to travel further up your thigh. blunt fingernails drag up your skin, a trail of goosebumps being left behind, a visible marking of where he’s touching you.

his movements halt too soon for your liking, too much distance between his lithe fingers and your body’s very core.

“have you figured out what i want yet, pretty?” his voice is a stark difference to the usual light-hearted, almost squeak-like tone you’ve grown used to hearing from the smiley boy. right now, there’s no trace of humour in the thick rasp and there’s no time for smiling while he’s glaring down at you through hooded eyes.

something compels you to nod your head, even though you’re a little too lost in the thoughts concerning what you want, rather than what the devil incarnate by your side wants.

“you have?” the words come out in a layer of amazement, and you have to wonder if it’s because of the lie you’ve just told or the way your legs have closed in around his hand, trapping it between them. “i want to know what you want, though.”

you want his thumb to stop stroking over the flesh of your inner thigh.

you want his eyes to stop gazing down at you like you’re the perfect prey.

you want him to stop teetering your impending pleasure on a string.

you want-

“you.” is all you manage to breath out.

it seems to do the trick, however, your point getting very much across to him. a softness flickers over his features, brows unfurling and smirk curling up into a full smile for what feels like an eternity, but is actually no more than a couple of seconds before his devilish aura is back.

lips meet lips again, the desperation and force behind each stroke of his tongue against yours the same as before. san, much to your delight, seems to grow just as impatient as you’ve been since the moment he welcomed himself into the empty space next to you on the bench.

one hand still resting between your thighs, his other seizes the opportunity to drag your body closer, so close that you have no choice but to swing one leg over him and slot yourself in his lap.

there was one time, in the middle of what you’ve deemed to be the most boring lecture ever, that you had thought about what it would feel like to sit in choi san’s lap. unintentionally, of course, for how could anyone look over at him in those grey sweatpants, legs manspreading like it was nobody’s business and pen tapping away at the table in front of him, and not daydream about being perched in his lap, head resting somewhere between his shoulder and his soft hair?

you’d imagined him to be the embodiment of soft and comfortable, warm and reassuring the way he’d lazily lay an arm over your hip to make sure there’s no risk of you slipping out of your new seat. you never, for the life of you, imagined you’d feel the outline of his dick resting against your ass the first time you finally claimed your throne.

choosing to not dwell on the heavy feeling of him pressed against you, you choose instead to focus on the way his lips trail away from yours and make their descent towards the top of your chest.

his hand abandons post between your thighs and rises to the surface, where long fingers begin to pull at the straps of your red swimsuit, successfully manoeuvring the nylon material till it’s bunched around your midriff and your breasts are exposed to the damp air of the swimming hall. 

with no want left to play around, he dives right in to dragging his lips down the upper swell of your left breast. you imagine he can feel the beating of your racing heart beneath the goosebump littered skin. it doesn’t take long for his tongue to enter the scene, skilfully flicking over your hardened nipple a couple times before enveloping his mouth around the bud.

one, two, three sucks and he’s moving on to your right breast. there’s no lead up, this time, simply his mouth finding delight in toying with your body while he busies his hand with your left side, thumb and pointer finger rolling and tugging and spreading the remnants of his saliva over your heated skin.

the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and has you arching your own, is the faintest pressure of his teeth biting down on you. it dances on a thin line between pleasurable and painful, exhilarating enough to make you throw your head back as a moan slips past your lips. it echoes in the empty room, replaying your own sound for both of you to hear again and again before the chain is broken by a giggle.

his giggle.

“why are,” he picks the right time to trail his fingers down your body, dragging your swimsuit with them till it sits uncomfortably tight around the top of your hipbones, skintight fabric digging into the damp skin. “you laughing?”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty your tits are?” it’s crude and heartwarming all at once, quite like the man who says it and the little smile he shoots up in your direction as he rolls his tongue over your nipple once again.

“no, i can’t say they have.” the hands that have been resting on his shoulder, grasping them in a vice grip in fear of slipping off of him and and directly onto the concrete floor, gain enough confidence for you let one slide around to the back of his neck and thread your fingertips in the back of his locks, hair as soft as you’ve always imagined it to be. “you’re the first.”

“i’ll wear that title with honour,” he seems to delight in the way you’re carding through his hair, eyes closing while he tilts his head back further into your touch. a delighted sigh follows. “has anyone ever asked you to sit on their face?”

“again, no.”

“another honourable title for me, i guess.” san’s giving you whiplash, with all this switching between being his usual goofy self and the man that minutes before was speaking profanities on how you’d looked choking on his dick. he peaks his eyes open again, slowly, adjusting to the bright lights he stares up at each time he’s doing the backstroke. when he has the nerves to smile at you, all dreamy eyed and relaxed sitting beneath your body on the bench. “now, can you please stand up and get naked so you can fuck yourself on my tongue?”

this time, it’s your laugh that echoes in the air.

“stop, i’m being serious!” he seems to whine his way through his words, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly in a way you’re certain is going to drive you insane. “i can’t go another second like this, you literally sitting on my dick, without blowing my load. and i really don’t feel like having to explain to coach kwon why my team speedos are stained in cum.”

“you’re so-” you give up on trying to find a single word to describe him, knowing there’s no word that can quite capture choi san’s essence. “okay, okay, fine, but you kind of need to let go of me for me to, y’know, stand up.”

“oh, sorry bout that.” san’s sheepish smile shouldn’t be this cute, not when it’s followed by him removing his hands from your half-naked body.

reluctant, your feet meet the ground and you stand up from his lap. he seems to move quicker than you, no hesitation to be seen as he twists his body around and lays along the bench on his back, eyes all the while watching you expectantly.

your fingers are far from as nimble as his, and there’s a shake to them, meaning you’re a lot less slick with how you pull the swimsuit off yourself. you opt for killing two birds with one stone, dragging your shorts down alongside the red suit, till both are pooled around your feet and you’re begging with every cell in your body that you look more graceful than you feel, stepping out of the leg holes.

in all honesty, you’re more embarrassed with the fact he’d watched you remove your clothes than with how you’re now stood naked, legs a little shaky and the wetness gathering between your folds you’re suddenly so much more aware of, the cool air fighting against your pulsating heat.

“well?” san speaks with expectation, legs bent at the knee while the balls of his feet rest on the edge of the bench. “are you gonna just stand there or you gonna sit on my face?”

“are you... sure you want me to?” even you feel the idiocy behind asking such a thing, when he’s laying right there with eyes full of glee and a raging boner pressed against his hip, nothing but the familiar colours of your college to stop you from seeing him all his naked glory. still, you can’t help elaborating. “i mean, the bench isn’t exactly sturdy and, i mean, what if i slip off of you?”

“y/n, are you joking? you have to be joking!” his offence is playful enough to ease a little of the hesitation inside of you. “do you see these puppies, baby? these are my mad gains from flailing my silly little arms around in a pool six days a week!”

you think this can’t be real as you watch the golden boy of the school put on a show, flexing his arms in an effort to display his muscles and voicing the most ridiculous words that not even he seems to be taking seriously, a bubble of laughter popping in every sentence.

“i’m not gonna let you slip, now hurry up!” again with the whining.

“god, you’re so desperate!”

“for you? always.”

the following minute is made up of wobbled steps and a poor attempt at amping yourself up, repeating mantra after mantra in your head that you are the sex goddess and no man is going to make you feel nervous. not even if that man has a jaw one could slice diamonds with.

he’s got a firm grasp of your thighs before you’ve even got the chance to get comfortable, legs a little shaky as you hover over his naked chest and will your knees to find grip on the bench beneath them.

“come closer, my tongue’s not that long!” san’s pulling you up, closer, all the way to where his wanton mouth awaits you. as if to give you a preview of what awaits you, the kisses from before reduced to nothing, his tongue pops out to run over the smooth of his bottom lip. you repeat the process of trying to find balance, a position in which you don’t need to worry about toppling overboard. though, with the way his finger squeeze into your thigh, you doubt you’ll have to worry about that truly happening. “comfortable?”

“as i’ll ever be.”

“all the people that would die to be in your position, and you say that?” he tsks, tongue hitting off the roof of his mouth before a blow of air hits against your folds and, though it’s faint from the distance still between his mouth and where he wants it to be, it sends a jolt of excitement up your spine. “i’ll just have to make sure i over-perform, make you more eager for next time.”

neither of you choose to dwell on the words next time.

him, too occupied with getting his first taste, tongue licking a strip up your core and coming to a stop as the tip of it bumps against your clit.

you, too busy having the air knocked out of your lungs, hand unconsciously finding safety in gripping his hair as you lurch forward momentarily, mouth falling open in a quiet gasp that echoes around and around.

“hmm, make sure you hold on tight.” you know he’s teasing you, with his words, and with his eyes, and with his mouth that seems to find enjoyment in trailing itself over your clitoral hood and up your pubic bone. “you smell mouthwatering, you know? enough to make a man go feral.”

the chance to reply never comes, not when san makes his way back down to your clit and greets it with the stroke of his flattened tongue. every tiny nerve sparks to life under his touch and you feel yourself grow wetter, a wave of warm arousal leaking out of your hole. his tongue dives down to welcome it, not allowing more than a single drop- landing on his chin- to go to waste.

you don’t even notice the lack of his grip around your left leg until you feel it: the first few seconds of his fingertips probing around your soaked cunt, coating themselves in your liquid pleasure until it’s dripping down the back of his hand.

the first finger to enter your hole is gentle, tentative to the way your body receives him, his pointer and ring finger keeping your folds spread and allowing him the full view of the middle one slowly disappearing from sight, burying itself in the warmth of your pussy. distracted, his mouth pulls back and his head meets the bench again while his eyes soak in the sight above him, flickering up to catch your reaction when another finger enters you, this time with a lot less care as it forces you open around it.

“so pretty,” he mutters the words, more to himself than to you, delighting as he witnesses you struggling to bite back a pathetic moan when his digits curl within you. he repeats the action a couple times, flicking his wrist back and forth, fingers brushing over your tight walls each time and culminating in a curl that has him pressing against the spongy-like flesh inside. “so, so pretty.”

your hips begin to rut against his hand, meeting every one of his thrusts with perfect timing that has him reaching deeper, further, better places inside of you. all the while he’s just watching and admiring the furrow in your brow and the way the swells of your breast bounce in sync with you.

your pussy clenches tighter and his fingers fight to reach deeper before spreading themselves wider in an attempt to scissor you open. he’s giving it his all, a third finger slipping in despite the dull ache setting in his wrist while he coaxes you closer and closer to the tipping point.

san takes just as easy as he gives, and it’s that fact alone that drives him to pull his hand back, fingers withdrawing from you and the pleasure you’re pursuing.

“why’d you-” you heave through heavy breaths, brain fuzzy from the unvoiced orgasm you were so close to having, every nerve ready to tingle, every muscle ready to tremble, every toe ready to curl. “stop?”

“because,” the wet smack of his fingers hitting against your clit is louder than the whimper that drops from your mouth. san hears both, however, and grins, quickly landing another smack against your engorged clit. “the goal is to make you cum on my face, not my fingers. consider them the appetiser, something to awaken your senses.”

his tongue licks in an upward motion, starting from the tip of your taint and ending at your clit, and you get deja-vu to just minutes before, when you’d first felt his tongue on your melting skin, the saliva it leaves in a trail behind it serving to cool you down. a shiver runs up your spine as he blows air onto your cunt, the pressure of it doing wonders to stimulate your clit.

“would you stop?”

“look who’s whining now.” san, despite what he says, does as you ask and puts an end what feels like unending teasing- really, it’s hardly been a minute but the pulsing of your heat and the loss of a climax leave you no room to think about something as abstract as time.

his lips make a victorious return, wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking against the pulsing nub. every so often, he delivers a couple kitten licks- ups and downs, sides to sides, figure eights- before swiftly returning to kissing your most intimate parts.

in an attempt to make your toes curl, he dips lower and teases the tips of his tongue over your entrance, wet muscle moving over wet skin and tastebuds covering themselves in your essence, till the moans echoing off the walls are indistinguishable between san’s and your own.

“you can move,” he grunts into you after a few minutes of repeated alternating between kissing your clit and tonguing at your hole. it’s muffled with the way he’s holding you down against his face and you feel his lips brush against your lower ones as he speaks. “need you to move. wanna see you use me, pretty.”

and, who are you to deny the man?

you’re hesitant at first, just like you were all those weeks ago as you sank to your knees for him. you test the waters and give a single roll of your hips. it feels good, great, especially when paired with his own efforts at dragging his tongue over you.

it takes a few more attempts, and san’s patience wearing thin to the point he resorts to grabbing a firm hold of your arse cheeks and planting you flat on his mouth, tongue flat and eyes staring up at you in a demand to move, goddamn it. 

move you most certainly do, grinding down on his tongue like you’ve done many a time with different men’s cocks. it’s messy, sloppy in the way that his spit mingles with your wetness, a cocktail of fluids sliding down his throat, and painting his lips, and dribbling down his chin as he eats you like a man starved that’s alas getting a taste of the sweetest fruit.

the rhythm of your hips is thrown off when the man beneath you switches from having you grinding down onto his flattened tongue to slipping the muscle inside of your hole, thrusting it as far as up as the length of it allows him to. with every time your body comes crashing down on his mouth, the tip of his nose bumps against your clit, forcing you to angle yourself upwards to gain more of the friction.

hands find hair, lips part in unabashed moans, thighs shake with the oncoming of an orgasmic state of mind.

the moment builds too quickly, too unexpectedly, like the ghost of your stolen climax is back with a vengeance and set on ensuring there will be no denying it this time.

“s-shit,” your eyes squeeze shut, too scared to look down at his ecstasy filled eyes in fear of it being what finally tips you over the edge. “i’m gonna- ah- gonna cum.”

san pays no mind to your warning. if anything, he takes it as a challenge, an invisible timer beginning in his head and forcing him to see how quickly he can get you to unravel all over his face. he’s getting everything he asked for, your naked body a mess above him as you fuck yourself on his tongue and your hands, with minds of their own, sliding up to grab and squeeze at your tits.

he watches how the pastel blue nail polish clashes with the darkened colour of your abused nipples, fingers working to pinch, and twist, and pull at them as you lose yourself in the moment.

when you cum, it’s with rolled-back eyes and shaky thighs, his hands gripping at you tighter to steady you as you sway above him, his tongue working at coaxing you through your high.

he licks up every drop of cum he can manage, until you’re cringing in overstimulation and reaching down to push him away. he let’s you move him, mouth moving to trail a couple kisses over your inner thigh, something akin to lipstick stains- yet so much dirtier in nature- being left behind on your soft flesh.

“told you i wouldn’t let you fall,” he’s the first to speak, partly because he correctly thinks you’re incapable of forming anything coherent in the afterglow of your orgasm, but mostly because he wants- no, needs to hear you praise him.

needs to hear you praise him like he’d done for you that night, eyes still hooded and chest visibly heaving as he finished processing watching you swallow every spurt of hot cum he’d shot down your throat. the praise never comes.

well, at least not from you.

at first he thinks he’s imagining the sound of clapping. it’s slow, and booming, and tinted with the slightest hint of sarcasm. it grows louder though, far too loud for it to just be in his imagination. the stilling of your body, going rigid as you fall back onto his chest, the sticky remnants of your orgasm cold against his heated skin, confirms that you hear the clapping too.

“bravo, choi. always thought your reputation with the ladies was a little overhyped, but i stand corrected.”

never has he hated the sight of park seonghwa so much, not even in the times they’ve been head-to-head in the final lap and the older male’s offensively bright swim-cap is all san can see every time he twists his head to catch a breath of air.

the three swimmers stand on the opposite end of the swimming pool, all in various stages of undress.

there’s wooyoung, who looks like he’s not so much as dried himself with a towel, still dressed in his team swimwear. and yunho, who’s got a towel wrapped around his waist messily, hair damp against his forehead and likely smelling of the cheap shampoo provided in the locker-room showers. lastly, seonghwa, who’s seemingly fully dressed spar for one of those irritating long coats san always sees him trailing around campus in.

one look into your panicked eyes is enough for san to spring into action, fumbling to sit himself up and pull your body flush against his, facing your naked back in the direction of his rivals.

he bites back a groan as you shift in his lap, unknowingly- or maybe you do know- pressing your soaked centre against his erection, which already strains inside the confines of the nylon material, leaving very little to the imagination.

“do you mind?” he’s glad the words come out clearly, booming across the pool at them and their unwavering staring.

“not at all.”

san holds you tighter against him, eyeing at your discarded swimsuit on the floor as he listens to a shuffle of footsteps. assuming the three men have made their way back into the locker-room, he’s speechless when he looks up to find them approaching the bench, seonghwa leading the trio with a secure grip on the back of wooyoung’s neck, whose eyes can’t seem to leave the floor, while yunho trails a little behind them, one hand grasping onto the towel around him.

“get your hands off her!” he leans back, pulling you with him, in an attempt to stray out of seonghwa’s reach as he extends his hand out. he fails, however, and the tips of seonghwa’s elongated fingers brush over your shoulder.

a shiver runs down you, one that san feels, the unexpected touch tickling your nerves.

“she’s a grown up,” the eldest of the men muses as he builds a rhythm out of how his fingers soother over your sweat slicked skin. “who i’m sure can speak for herself if she wants my hands off her.”

out of all the men, seonghwa has always been the one san despised most. between the constant boasting of wealth- money he acquired through labor, though not the working kind- and the disrespect he’s never had a problem showing towards others, he never fails to strike a nerve, awakening a dark part of san’s brain that activates his fight or flight response. by far, however, his arrogance is the worst, that sense of entitlement that drives him to think everything and everyone is a piece of clay for him to mold and manipulate till they fit his ideal shape.

the rich boy’s hand smoothes over your naked shoulder and san can’t resist glaring up at him.

“c’mon san, now’s hardly the time to be modest,” behind the oldest swimmer, yunho and wooyoung seem to be battling an inner conflict, yunho fighting to keep his towel in place and wooyoung fighting to keep the shame off his face while his dick visibly strains against the confines of his chlorine-covered swimwear. “not after the show you two just put on.”

“we didn’t,” it’s the first time you manage to speak since covering san’s tongue in your cum, breathing at last steady and face hidden from everyone’s view, much to san’s despair. “know you were watching.”

“and, if you had known, would you have stopped?” yunho is the one asking the question and, suddenly, san’s so much more aware of what exactly he’s hiding underneath his towel.

you give no answer.

“of course she wouldn’t,” seonghwa answers for you, hand moving to grasp the back of your neck. with no warning, he grips a little too tight for comfort and and yanks you backwards, till you’re staring right into san’s eyes and the only thing keeping you perched in his lap is seonghwa’s body pressed flat against yours. “there’s nothing a whore loves more than an audience, right?”

if put on trial in a court of law and sworn to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, over whether or not you’d just clenched around nothing at park seonghwa’s degrading name, you’d plead that you never did such a thing.

you’d be found guilty.

“poor woo nearly came untouched just watching you two. isn’t that right?” the eldest turns to stare back at where you imagine wooyoung to be. “pretty boy nearly whined just at the thought of being in san’s position, a mouth full of cunt and someone using him like the fuck-toy he is.”

the air grows thick, between you, and san, and every other living being in the room. it feels like the walls are closing in on themselves with every second that passes, the sweat dripping down your back and coming to a rest between your arse cheeks evidence that the space is heating up. or maybe it’s just your body, hardly processing the high it’s just come down from and there’s already another source for a new-found arousal, a source in the shape of three muscular men stood behind you and one beneath you, eyes wary as he gazes into your own, like he wants to ask if you’re okay but all the blood is too busy circulating in his crotch for his brain to be productive.

“now, i hardly think it’s very nice of you to get our wooyoung all riled up and not even offer to help him out.” you decide you’re being lulled into a false sense of safety the second you feel the pressure of seonghwa’s hand leave your skin. behind you, there’s a shuffling of footsteps that call you to crane your neck and catch a glimpse of what exactly is going on but san’s eyes beg you to keep staring into his, to count the galaxies that dance within them while he grips at your waist. “so the chance to offer is off the table and you’re simply going to do as told. doesn’t that sound easier, hmm? no having to make pesky decisions, just spread those legs and follow orders.”

at last, you get your first glimpse at jung wooyoung.

he sits down on the bench, no more than a breath of space between where you and san are perched. he’s a vision in himself, shoulders hunched and embarrassed face the same shade of red as the tip of his cock, an angry looking bulbous head poking out the top of far-too-tight speedos.

san’s grip tightens the longer you stare at the other boy, gaze dancing over the shape of his body and mouth-watering as, for the first time, you see the appeal of jung wooyoung. never before have you understood why eyes follow him in the hallways, like he’s more than just another pretty boy on campus- something that’s in abundance. but you see it now, understand the appeal of his stand-out nose; and the veins that run down his arms; and floppy style to his hair, that seems to be calling out to have your fingers running through it. 

with no prior warning, the grip on your hips tightens even more, till san is digging crescents into the soft skin and he’s lifting you, off of his lap and right into wooyoung’s.

the usually boisterous boy’s eyes meet yours, no longer filled with that spark of defiance and, instead, glazed over in tears, a quiet pleading being exchanged between you.

only, you’re unsure what he’s begging of you.

“are you going to just sit there,” seonghwa speaks up, boredom in his tone that has you picturing him rolling his eyes and picking at his manicured nails. “or are you going to help the poor pup cum?”

“what?!” that certainly helps you find your voice, and the guts to turn around and look at the man.

you find him stood closer than you imagined, with tailored trousers hugging his thighs and a perfectly ironed shirt tucked into them, the last few messy buttons the only indication he’d rushed to dress himself. eyes looking past him, you find more of a friendly aura in yunho, who, despite fighting a battle against the towel wrapped around his figure, manages to shoot a smile at you.

and then there’s san, who stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and a painfully obvious boner resting in the confines of his swimwear, though he’s done a better job at keeping himself concealed than the boy beneath you. his face appears indifferent, yet the twitch in his eye speaks of a tamed anger, a frustration he’s yet to unleash on the men who’d interrupted him amidst his feast.

“are you now deaf along with being dumb or something?” the eldest pulls your attention back to him with little effort, a smirk meeting the glare you shoot his way. “you made that brat hard, now do your job and fix the mess you’ve made.”

words of protest get lost in a surprised gasp as the boy in question takes your hand in his, veiny hand guiding you down to a veiny shaft. wooyoung wraps both of your fingers over his leaking cock, his holding yours in place around him while he ruts his hips up once, twice into your hold, the action sending his swimwear even further down the his length and exposing nearly the full sight of it to the swimming hall.

you don’t mean to compare, yet you’re incapable of ignoring the fact that while wooyoung may be on the slightly shorter side compared to san, he’s certainly leading in the thickness department, with a mushroomed head and the prettiest trail of trimmed hairs leading down his pelvis.

he guides you over his shaft a number of times, a little less shy now as he outwardly whines when your thumb runs over his tip, wiping away the fat bead of precum resting upon it. at some point, he moves his hand away, needing both of his free to lean back on the bench, yet yours keeps moving at it’s own volition, stroking him in a pattern of threes, interrupting every trio with a swipe over his tip or a fondle of his still-concealed balls.

“please,” the whine in his voice is so unlike the jung wooyoung you’ve watched week after week, hurling abuse and echoing boasts of his own talents while keeping himself afloat in the swimming pool.

“he asked nicely.” you’d just about forgotten about everyone else in the room, until seonghwa’s irritatingly unbothered voice serves to remind you of his presence. “rule number one: good behaviour is rewarded.”

“what do i,” you interrupt your own question to glance over wooyoung once more. “do?” you pinch your thigh, skin stinging as nails bite it, and confirm with yourself that this is not a dream but, in fact, very much real.

jung wooyoung is hard and begging you to do something.

“i don’t care how you do it, just put one of your holes to good use for once and make him cum.”

there’s still an echo of seonghwa’s voice by the time you successfully manage to rid wooyoung of his swimwear, the damp fabric clinging to the warm skin and the taut muscles of his thighs. the boy isn’t much help either, seemingly reduced to nothing but a writhing, panting mess instead of someone competent enough to raise himself off the bench just enough for you to undress him.

the sight is mesmerising, one you’re certain will remain ingrained in your memory till the day you die: wooyoung, disheveled and untouched, with his achingly hard cock pressed flat against his lower stomach, his swimmer-thighs spread with a set of balls between them that you find yourself near salivating over as a trickle of his own precum runs down them.

“your cock’s...” you begin to speak, yet trail off as your digits wrap themselves around his shaft, just to delight in the way his breath jumps when you drag your hand upwards and give a soft squeeze as you reach the head. “so pretty, woo.”

“youngie.” seonghwa cuts in from behind you. “he prefers to be called youngie when he’s getting his cock teased.”

“yeah, youngie?” you try it out.

instantly, he nods and something akin to a whimper flies out of him.

fascinated by his shaky breaths and his pretty chest, where warm, tanned skin appears to be near glowing under the swimming halls bright lights as his cheeks flush a palette full of reds and pinks, your eyes are completely fixed on him. there’s something vulnerable and breakable about the way he’s looking at your with the widest of eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip receiving countless abuse from his teeth.

never have you been so desperate to push someone past their own limits.

officially running on nothing but pure instincts, you close your mind off to thoughts, like how the boy you’d spent weeks avoiding and missing is stood only metres away, witnessing the way the tip of your finger teases over the slit of his sport rival’s cock. or like how park seonghwa, perhaps the campus’ most infamous trust-fund baby, seems to have complete control of the situation at hand, yourself and jung wooyoung nothing but idolised dolls he’s moving into whatever obscene position he wants you in.

instead, you focus on how wooyoung’s eyes roll back and he lets out a gasp when you gather up fluids from within your salivating mouth and part your own lips, watching how your own spit drips onto his lower stomach, and your hand, and his painfully hard cock.

the saliva serves not only as a visual pleasure, something that’s awakening inside of you at the sight of it leaving you with whole new kind of excitement bubbling along your body, but as a physical pleasure for wooyoung, who seems to have no protest to how much easier it is to slide your hand up his length with the added lubrication of your own spit. 

“fuck...” he curses under his breath and his hands find purchase on your body, one gripping your hip while the other grabs at your forehand, like he’s scared you’ll release the grip you have on him and strip away the sweet release of friction. “don’t just focus on the tip- shit, ah- play with my balls too.”

“wooyoung!” ready to oblige, ready to give the pretty faced boy anything he demanded of you, you’ve no time to think of a reply before the ringmaster of this circus reminds you of his overlooking presence behind your back. “stop speaking like an ungrateful brat and take what you’re given. or else... well, i’m sure you don’t need reminding of what happens to pups that misbehave.”

the way jung wooyoung’s whole body grows rigid beneath you, paired with the countless times park seonghwa has butted in to speak on the boy’s sexual preferences, leaves you with the sense that the two are not only acquainted with how each other’s bodies move underwater..

“s-sorry,” this is not the voice of boastful jung wooyoung, who near bounces down the college halls and airdrops nudes in class because he’s bored. this is a voice that’s soft and meek. like a beady-eyed puppy, so quick to submit to it’s owner. “just feels too good. i’m sorry”

“yeah, you will be sorry.” seonghwa’s hand is cold against your back and it lulls a shiver out of you as fingers trickle down your spine like water off a duck’s wings. part of you hates him for stealing wooyoung’s attention off of you just as you were beginning to revel in it, a larger part of you wants to know why the sternness in his voice is enough to have your clit aching to be touched. “spitfire, be a good cocksleave and sit on his dick.”

“ok, stop!” a sense of shame comes over you when it takes hearing san’s outburst to remember the fact he’s watching the scene unfold. “don’t you think you’re taking this too far now, park seonghwa? i know you and wooyoung have your... agreement on how you treat each other, but don’t drag someone else into it. not when she never even asked for this.”

“you had your tongue tasting the eighth wonder of the world on that bench twenty minutes ago, both of you knowing there was a chance you’d be caught, and you want to tell me no one was asking for this?”

“that was private! you guys are the ones who-”

“there’s no such thing as privacy in a public area. besides, it’s hardly like she’s not enjoying this. if anything, i think spitfire doesn’t like the way you’re getting in the way of her teaching youngie a lesson in obedience.” you’re naive to think no one would notice the way you’ve began to grind down on wooyoung’s cock, stealing whimpers out of him as the soaked lips of your pussy rubbed up against him and holding back your own moans each time his tip meets the bundle of nerves that make up your clit. “choi, if you’re that much of a pissy pants that can’t enjoy himself even just this once in life, then feel free to leave. i’m sure the four of us will be too occupied to notice your absence.”

you’re not paying close enough attention to figure out if san’s newfound silence is due to his departure, or if he’s simply too stunned to speak, your eyes focused on nothing and no one but the boy at your mercy.

the initial burn of wooyoung breaching your entry reminds you of how long it’s been since you’d been stretched open by something other than someone’s cold fingers or wagging tongue. it’s been more or less three long months of juggling test after test, assignments piling up on your desktop and a relationship with your now ex-boyfriend being tossed completely into the gutter.

not once had you thought your return to the world of sexual bliss would be in front of an audience, much less at the very place you work.

doubting that it’s been as long for him as it has for you, wooyoung still spares nothing when it comes to reacting to your touch. with eyes squeezing shut, head rolling back, abdomen muscles flexing along side every shaken intake of breath, the boy puts on a show so pornographic it puts the professionals to shame. a whine exits his lips, lips that carry marks of his own teeth and look like they’re in need of a healthy dose of chapstick, and look so disgustingly kissable that your own tingle at the thought.

all those rumours of jung wooyoung being a camboy rush to the forefront of your mind, feeling truer than ever when your eyes take in the bob of his adam’s apple, and the perfectly timed run of his tongue over his lower lip, and the pretty way in which the prominent veins in his hands looks as he clamps his grip down on your hips.

he’s a sight worth paying for. 

“are you okay?” not the first thing you’d imagined saying after sinking all the way down on his cock, the need to check up on him taking over before you’d even noticed it’s existence.

“yeah...” he sighs his way through the word, eyes still closed and grip still very much tight on your skin, blunt fingertips likely leaving crescent moons you’ll find yourself staring at for days to come, memories of this moment replaying in a rose-tinted haze. “just need a second, you- you feel good, fuck me.”

“i’m kinda already doing that, youngie.” you giggle, like a lovesick adolescent speaking to their crush of the week, but the boy’s instant smile upon hearing it puts out the fire of shame building in the pit of your stomach.

“hmm,” he hums back, acknowledging your words without giving you the satisfaction of hearing him tell you how you’re correct. “are you okay?”

wooyoung flips the question on you and it parallels with the way he pulls the rains in physically, lithe hips thrusting upwards in search of feeling more, reaching deeper inside of you. in the back of your mind you already picture a look of displeasure on park seonghwa’s face, scowling lips loading up to berate you and demand you take repossession of jung wooyoung’s sanity.

“yeah, i’m-” with the eldest man in mind, you stop and compose yourself, as well as you can while wooyoung’s mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, the tops of your breasts. “i’m wondering who told you you were allowed to touch me?”

control is easily regained, all it takes is your hand squeezing around jung wooyoung’s throat and your soaked walls clenching around his aching cock and he’s melting like ice cream on a warm summer’s day, leaving behind a sticky mess.

satisfaction and pleasure come crashing in tandem, wave after wave moving in motion with each lethargic roll of your body against the swimmer’s, who seems to be a quicker learner than you’d believed him to be, hands flying off your body like it was made up of hot stones and, instead, now holding a firm and grounding grip of the bench beneath you both.

“harder.” you feel a hint of emotion within park seonghwa’s voice this time he speaks. it’s fleeting, and hard to make out quite what feeling it is he’s experiencing, but it’s there and it’s certainly a step up from the usual shameless, egotistical, megalomaniac tone he takes on. “squeeze his throat tighter.”

under the possession of his commanding tone, you find yourself caving into his command, fingers pressing a little harder into wooyoung’s warm skin. the boy gulps down whatever pride he has and delivers a pleasured whine. you grind down harder and an evil, twisted part of you you’ve never met before longs to laugh at the way he so desperately is struggling to keep his composure, fighting back the urge to meet your hips with his own upward thrusts.

so, you do. 

“hear that, youngie?” seonghwa’s voice becomes less grating each time you hear it, once an unwelcome and intrusive thought but now a second voice and a valued player in a game of wreck the wooyoung. “you’re being laughed at. isn’t that just pathetic?”

“y-yes, fuck-” he falls victim to your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock in a vice grip. the image of confidence withers away so easily to reveal a teary-eyed, pretty-faced, cum-desperate man. “i’m pathetic.”

“yeah, you are.” seonghwa circles his way around the rocking bench, no longer out of view hidden behind your back but, instead, staring you down with piercing eyes that cut through you like a knife to hot butter. “he’s getting close. never lasts long, really, even seen him cum untouched just from giving me head. but that’s okay, isn’t it youngie? you’re a slut for having your sack drained, huh?”

the swimmer beneath you has never looked redder than he does right now, secrets of his sexual nature getting exposed to the people he likely considers his biggest athletic competition. though you probably should, you don’t push him away when his face finds safety in the crook of your neck, parted lips covering your burning skin in sticky drool.

“don’t let him fool you guys, he’s into the degrading nature of it all. trust me.” you wonder if it should concern you the way seonghwa speaks about jung wooyoung as though he’s nothing but a pet, a possession of which he just so happens to have complete control over. you’re more concerned with the fact it excites you. “call him a good boy, i dare you.”

the words haven’t even formed in your throat and the boy between your thighs is gripping onto your waist a little tighter, lips near pouting and eyes screwed shut in uncontrollable pleasure, burning down his spine and threatening to push him over the edge of sexual bliss.

you consider having mercy, the inexperienced side of you thinking the boy looks like he’s full of shame and embarrassment. the throbbing of his rock hard cock repeatedly stuffing your aching cunt reminds you he’s getting off on the humiliation.

“is he a good boy, though?” you stare up at park seonghwa, not even sparing a whimpering wooyoung any attention as he begins a rambled protest to defend his good behaviour. “i mean, i don’t remember telling him he could touch me. do you, hwa?”

the hands that grip you tightly let go quick, like your skin were an unexpectedly warm stove, scorching his skin right off him.

“i don’t remember either,” the eldest’s agreement has you reeling in a way you never expected, filling you with a new found sense of control.

a control that is ripped away far too quickly, like park seonghwa sensed you growing falsely confident over the situation at hand.

like a shark circling it’s prey, the tall man makes his way back around the bench, each fall of his shoe-covered feet echoing in the quiet swim hall. click, click, click, and he’s right at your back, not a word uttered as the soft of his palm lands on the nape of your neck. achingly slow does it travel down the expanse of your back, not a single noise filling the space other than the rise and fall of your body on top of wooyoung’s and the same boy’s poorly contained moans and mewls of pleasure.

the silence is interrupted by your own shocked gasp, mouth falling agape in shock as your movements come to a complete halt. his hands, no longer soft and delicate, grip you in an iron-tight hold, fingers greedy as they dig into your meaty flesh with no mercy or regard for the pain it may inflict on you.

“no, get up,” like a switch was flipped in as little as a minute, park seonghwa’s voice has lost all sense of the excitement it had whilst he spoke on jung wooyoung’s dirty endeavours and has returned back to the cold, callous, commanding tone it had originally.

he sounds angry, feels angry in the way the fingers of his free hand tangle themselves in the hair at the back of your head and give a harsh tug, forcing your head back till you’re met with his scowling face and perfectly groomed hair, even in it’s dampened state it seems to frame his face perfectly.

“what?” you babble out, dumbstruck, much like the desperate boy beneath you who’s began to mutter apology after apology between pleadings of please no don’t do this and i promise i’ll behave, i’ll keep my hands to myself.

none of it works.

“you heard me. get. up.” the fingers on your waist tug, pull, drag you away from the quivering mess that has become of jung wooyoung, who near sobs as the cool air hits his now painfully hard cock, tip redder than the bottom of your favourite heels and a vein more prominent under his sensitive skin than the ones on his muscular arms. you’re not given much of a chance to process what’s happening before seonghwa speaks again. “wooyoung, up, now. you’re not getting to cum, so get off the bench and make room for someone else.”

the boy makes no further attempt to protest, cheeks painted pink in shame and chest shining with sweat as he shakily rises to his feet, head hung low when you watch him walk out of your line of sight.

then, your knees meet the floor.

park seonghwa chuckles as you go down, hands finding grip in your hair and forcing you to sit up right. heart beating faster, your mind begins to race with questions of what comes next, who comes next.

what dirty desires are about to be unveiled within you, forced into the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the swimming hall?

“jeong, you’re up,” seonghwa’s knee digs into your back and his fingers tug until your scalp begins to sting a little. you don’t want to like it but, in life, you don’t always get what you want.

there’s a series of shuffles behind you, followed by heavy footsteps. there’s no rush, yet no hesitation, just calm and collected footsteps of someone making their way over to do god knows what with you.

when jeong yunho, with his towel that’s looking a lot tighter around his crotch still around his waist, steps into frame, an inexplicable sense of comfort washes over you.

maybe it’s the way he smiles down at you, or the fact his hands brush seonghwa’s off of you, or the way his fingers take a hold of your chin once he’s seated in front of you.

maybe it’s just the fact he’s jeong yunho, campus himbo with a reputation for walking girls home at night just to make sure they’re safe and for singing britney spears with no shame each time the karaoke mic gets passed around.

whatever it is, it’s turning you on.

your knees are burning with fresh pain as park seonghwa shoves you closer to the mammoth of a man and you can’t help but swallow down the ball of anxiety growing in your throat.

everything about jeong yunho’s demeanour has always seemed large, with powerful arms that drag his body through the weight of water and large hands that effortlessly carry countless textbooks through the university halls; a tall frame that helps him stand out in any crowd and a personality loud enough to set off alarms; his thighs a muscular stairway leading up to a well rounded, remarkably defined posterior. it’s safe to say he’s carried a reputation for some time, one that consists of whispers between girls on campus who recount just how well endowed he really is. 7 inches, 9 inches, 12 inches, you’ve heard it all, each girl claiming it to be bigger than the last.

unfortunately, there’s no ruler at your disposal to uncover the truth of the rumours, but you confirm he’s certainly large as you watch him undo the towel. larger than you’ve ever seen before, with a thickness to match, and two heavy looking balls decorating the base.

he wraps a hand around it and you watch how he gives a light squeeze at the head, slowly sliding down the length of it till he reaches the tuft of groomed hairs on his pelvic bone. one of his hands alone holds half of his cock, leaving you almost certain you’d need to use both hands on him.

“d’you want it, sweetheart?” his words are teasing but his voice is soft, a complete one-eighty to the verbal berating you’ve been receiving- and enjoying- from park seonghwa.

you’re sure he notices the way you clench your thighs as he slaps his cock once, then twice against his stomach, the precum leaking out on to his tanned skinned.

there’s an itch inside your throat, one you imagine only he can scratch.

“you wanna taste it?” he’s still speaking to you through the arousal that fogs over your brain, commanding your tongue to swipe over your bottom lip as you burn your gaze at the glistening liquid on his warm skin, tastebuds aching to have him paint them in white.

you nod your head.

his own throws itself back, a chuckle rupturing out of his chest as he continues to tease himself with his hand.

“fuck, yeah, bet you can’t wait to taste my cock, feel it stab the back of your tight throat.” a smile should never look so sweet while it’s part of the same mouth spewing out such filth. somehow, jeong yunho makes it work. “gonna get it nice and wet for me, yeah? make it sloppy, i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock.”

the knee that’s suddenly digging it’s way into your back has no mercy. you wince, pull in a sharp breath and inch just that little bit closer to the bench. like a glove fits a hand, you slip right in between the muscled tree trunks that make up jeong yunho’s thighs. 

you wonder, if only momentarily, what sweet a death it would be to be crushed between them, taut muscles constricting the flow of air to your lungs like a boa with its prey.

but there’s a far more preferable way to be choked by the man before you, body carved out in such definition you fear michael angelo himself stands in admiration of it.

his hand snakes its way around your body, warm and heavy and imposing with the grip it settles for at the base of your neck. in spite of the sharp stab coming from behind- where you have no doubt one park seonghwa stands with disgruntled impatience written all over his irritatingly perfect face- there is no doubt in your mind that the man in front of you holds the reigns. with eyes of honey and lips of velvet, he peers down at you with a tendered expression, saying nothing yet everything with the gentle, repeated sooth of his thumb over your skin.

you need no verbal instructions this time around.

a hand grips the base of him as the other squeezes the flesh of your own thigh, piercing your skin with just enough pressure to assure you this is the reality you find yourself in, rather than some twisted, substance influenced dream.

the first taste is the sweetest, tongue a missionary sent into the foreign land of his body to discover the way he reacts as you drag it over the tip. he gives nothing but a squeeze to the back of your neck; and that crumbles you under his control.

with a few more kitten licks- for good luck, if anything,- the show begins with the parting of your lips, the widening of your mouth, the burning of your skin as you struggle with your ability to swallow him whole. you make it no further than a third of his length before he’s tugging gently on your roots and bringing you back to the surface of existence.

“breathe, okay,” his voice is gentle, calming your nerves yet sending your heart into a fit of patternless beats. “inhale, exhale, got it? through the nose, that’s gonna help you relax.”

doing as he says, you swallow three whole breaths. shaky, ragged, each feeling hollow in your chest in comparison to the weight of his cock on your tongue.

“pretty girl,” he practically coos, hand cupping your chin as his thumb smoothes over the swell of your bottom lip. it’s tender, sweet, and almost enough to make you forget the sight of his engorged cock that sits angrily between his tree-trunk shaped thighs, crying out for the return of your mouth’s affection. “someone’s gotta teach you to not be greedy, hmm? small little mouth of yours is no fit for me, don’t go choking on it.”

heat flashes between your thighs, your heartbeat dropping right down to your clit and leaving you with a burning ache, the kind only a gentleman like this could soothe. your fingers may have to do, however, if the stubborn arsehole behind you would be so kind as to let you enjoy yourself.

the way park seonghwa curls his hand round the front of your neck and flexes his nimble fingers- that goddamn family heirloom ring a punishing cold to your warm skin, near brandishing you as touched by some nepotism child- when you do so little as clench your thighs together to relieve the pressure, or lack-there-of, between your thighs tells you he’ll grant you no such fun.

“you’d need to have something big enough for her to choke on,” san, precious san. still here, still somewhere beneath this god-forsaken tin-can roof swimming pool, watching you bruise your knees and your ego for another man, another one of his team-mates. what must he think of you? has he lost whatever respect he may have had? does he think he’d been just another body to exchange fluids with, that night at the party? if you could just see his face, you’d not need to wonder all these things. his eyes, they always give him away, too earnest and pure for his own good.

“shut it, choi,” yunho’s bark isn’t half as loud as seonghwa’s booming commands have been, and are nowhere near as malignant. if anything, the gentle giant is humoured by his team-mate’s words, as if he knows they’re a preposterous thing to say about him. then again, you can’t imagine any man remaining humble about themselves if they were so well-endowed. “or do you wanna crack out the measuring tape again and remind yourself of just how much of me there is to choke on?”

silence.

it takes a few moments for the spotlight to return to you, a gradual shift from playful to lust driven energy encapsulating the broad frame of the man before. he cups your cheek, feather-light touch smoothing over your skin while his eyes burrow daggers into your soul.

why must his shoulders be so wide? it almost angers you as much as it sends a wave of heat between your legs.

almost, but not quite.

“‘s cute,” he half mumbles, distracted by the sight you paint below him on your knees, bruises already forming and thighs clenching for some relief of pressure. “your little pussy’s all wet just from having my cock in your mouth.”

“i think you’re forgetting she was bouncing on woo’s dick a few minutes ago, yunho,” the devil on your shoulder won’t let you rest, hand snaking through the threads of your hair and tugging on your roots. not enough to hurt, just enough to sting. “have some modesty.”

“sure, let’s act like i’m not the one who had her cumming all over my face a while ago.” san mumbles a string of words you wish you could unhear, face heating up as the shame burns through your bloodstream.

how had you gotten here?

you’re allowed no such freedom to ponder over previous actions as jeong yunho’s all encompassing frame works to remind you of where you find yourself: on your knees dressed in nothing but your own shame- shame which seems to slip off of you, piece by piece, baring you shamelessly to this pack of wolf-eyed boys’ for their eyes to feast upon.

strong, veiny hands reach out and drag you forwards, just an inch yet it’s all you need to feel the weight of park seonghwa’s domineering figure float off of you, rendering you under the control of this much larger, far smilier looking man. “eyes on me, okay? don’t wanna miss the way i’m about to make them roll back.”

there begins a game of push and pull, where jeong yunho pushes you closer and closer to his evident arousal, all the while teasing you as he pulls his hips back, keeping your waiting mouth open and empty, and oh-so frustrated at the feeling of being so close yet so far away from his dripping tip.

the first real taste you get of him does, in fact, nearly have your eyes rolling back. a kitten lick, barely there yet fully felt, running over the underside of his cock, a taste of salted skin, and musky sweat, and stale chlorine mixing in with the warmth of him flooding your senses. his reaction is no more composed than yours, blatantly parting his lips in a gasp and bucking his hips up, forwards, any direction they need follow to chase after your mouth.

happy to comply, you take pride in tasting him a second time, this time right over the growing drop of pre-cum pebbling on his tip. white flashes behind your closing eyes as his grip in your hair tightens, a pulse of heat firing straight down your spine as your mind floods with images of what it must be like to watch this man, this gentleman, this figure that so wholly encompasses what it means to be a himbo in this day and age lose his cool and revolt into his most carnal, basal instincts to take whatever pleasure he needs from you with a reckless abandon, burrow his throbbing cock down your throat till the beat of his heart takes over your own.

instead, you settle for wrapping your lips around him, at last, and letting him guide you just that little bit down his length. the weight of him feels nice, a strange sense of comfort birthing in your bones as you grow used to feel of him taking up your palate. his breaths seem to run in tandem with the inches he sinks deep between your parted lips.

a deep breath, he lowers you further, till your left cheek begins to bulge out.

tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth, you make use of it as best you can, rolling it over the bottom of his shaft and earning yourself a plethora of gratifying sounds, each deep and desperate and crooning straight out of jeong yunho’s broad chest. 

another deep breath, another inch.

for all the false dominance you wield over the situation, with the heat of your mouth and spill of your own saliva slickening his cock, his real and visceral dominance doubles it by tenfold, with a hand on the back of your neck, guiding your every move, and a knowing, gentle look cast downwards at you from where he sits propped on the bench, thighs a heavy mass to case your body between. a silly little voice in your head whispers a seductive tale of how easily this man could get you in a headlock and suffocate your fragile windpipes. a wave of heat, this one going right down to your core and forcing you to pay attention to it, shifting awkwardly and clenching the muscles in your own legs in hopes of getting some pitiful amount of pressure.

all breathing stops as he hits the back of your throat.

hands pulling tight, a biting pain ripping through your hair and a tired gag creeping out of your constricting throat, yunho holds you still and strong, as unmoving as the mountains that fill the horizon from your bedroom window.

he’s not even fully in, an arguably obscene amount of him still awaiting some form of attention beyond the spill of the spit filling up your mouth. but there’s nowhere for it to go, not within your mouth at least, and so you manoeuvre your hand up and grip the neglected inches, the tip of your pinkie teasingly brushing over the swell of his balls.

he lurches forward, gasping in a breath of air at last. “fucking christ- shit,” he grits his teeth. “her mouth’s warm.”

“well, obviously. this your first time getting a blowjob or something, jeong?” god, the reminder of seonghwa being here, somewhere behind you, fox eyes judging your every move and keeping his cool, no matter how hard you’d seen his cock straining in those ridiculous pant-suit trousers he sports. it’s sickening.

“yeah, yunho, watch out before you have a repeat of 2019.”

if the taller jeong wants to snap at the other, you never find out, instead dedicating yourself to the glory of worshipping him between your parted lips and tight throat, jaw ready to lock itself in place so long as it keeps him inside.

you treat him differently than you’d treated san that night. you’d been tipsy then, buzzing off the colourful shots of who-knows-what you’d been conned into downing a half hours before, mind hazy as you kneeled between him and teased your tongue over every crevice of him it could reach, dripping him in drool and working an ache into your overused tongue by the time you got watched him spill over the edge of ecstasy. that wasn’t even about san’s pleasure, no real care put into getting him off, your own selfish need to indulge in the pleasure of feeling, tasting, worshipping him taking precedence.

but, right now, you’re overwhelmingly sober, mind hazed only by a cloud of inexplicable lust that rolled in the moment san shot you his stupid smile, and you care about making jeong yunho cum. in fact, it’s the only thing on your mind as you bob your head up and down, letting his own hand guide your pace.  

“shh, shh,” he’s hushing your own struggles for breath and carding his fingers through the tresses of your hair, his legs clamping down on either side of you, pinning you in your rightful place. “taking it so good, baby. so fucking good.”

good’s not good enough.

you want to leave him mind-blown, exhausted, unhinged. you want him clenching his jaw, and baring his teeth, and stuttering over any praise he tries to give you. in fact, you need it, need that thrill-driven lust of collapsing the sanity of a man as broad and strong and capable as him.

so you pick up the pace, fight against the steady up-and-down of his grip and try to take just that little bit more of him in your mouth and down your throat, till you’ve no doubt there’s a visible bulge of where he sits down your windpipe. you think back on what he said- i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock- and work towards doing just that, mouth a fountain of over-flowing spit that paints lines down your chin and over his heavy balls. the hand at his base lightly drags the tips of its nails over his burning skin and you physically feel the way his cock jumps in your mouth, head twitching as his hips involuntarily jolt forwards.

eyes as wide as a deer in headlights, you glance up to stare into his own, only to find they’re rolling back in his head, too caught up in the headiness of having your mouth on him to visually focus. it’s erotic, tracing your eyes over the protruding vein in his neck and the unrhythmic heaving of his chest- like every breath he pulls is a rare gift and a miracle- and the straining of his muscled thighs that hold back his urge to buck freely into your mouth, use you as nothing but a hole to get himself off with.

your free hand stakes claim over your own sexual frustration, nimble fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your clit in an attempt to just ease that heat burning you from the inside out.

“she’s touching herself, jeong,” not even the irritating, grating voice of park seonghwa’s unwanted commentary can take away the kick you’re getting out of working this man into a frenzy. “are you just going to let her, without your permiss-”

“shut up, park,” yunho is wrecked, voice divulging so far from that loud, boyish charm into a dark, broken sort of gruffed out thing, echoing straight out of his chest. but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen to the other man, doesn’t force his eyes open to glance down in a hazed daze to witness your pathetic attempts to work your fingers over yourself.

only, he doesn’t tell you to stop.

he just... watches. and then smiles, squeezes out what can only be described as a broken whine, and tilts his head back once more, relinquishing all control of his body over to you. the scene divulging into a chorus of mumbled words, fuck and please and yes becoming the only word yunho knows, the only three you hear. 

only as he cums does jeong yunho regain that bit of self-control he’s lost, ripping your mouth off him- a stuttered mumble of i wanna paint that pretty face- and erupting in a mess of grunted moans, cock twitching in his palm as rope after rope of white, hot fluid shoots out of it. it’s messy, and disgusting, and sticky, marking the skin on your cheeks, nestling in your hair, dripping over your shut eyelashes.

the last drops land in your parted mouth as his grasp shakes and you regain the right to wrap your lips around his mushroomed tip.

lips stained in pearly white, cheeks and neck matching too. the throb of your neglected cunt, clenching itself around nothing but the mere thought of having jeong yunho stuff you full, break you in two and leave you spent.

the man in question is in a no better state, head thrown back and chest a heaving mess glistening with the shine of his own sweat. his mouth hangs open, near heaving in breaths of air and his hands, adopting a mind of their own, grip harder in your hair and hold you firmly in place, tongue laving over his sensitive tip, pushing him closer and closer to the ledge of overstimulation.

“fuck- uh, fucking look at you,” sweet voice, foul words. two fingers drag over your cheek, coating themselves in the sticky substance he’s painted you in. “drooling all over me.”

he’s right, you are drooling. down your chin, an uncomfortable damp coat covers your overheating skin as you continue to stretch your lips around his length, ready to rip another thigh-shuddering orgasm out of the man.

yunho grants you no such pleasure.

instead, a grip tugs back on your hair and, before you can feebly attempt to catch your fleeing breath, he’s pulling you up into his lap, straddling you across the well-defined muscles of his thigh. those big, capable hands he pushes himself through pools, and rivers, and all other bodies of water manipulate your limbs however he likes, a rag-doll free for him to toy with for as long as he sees fit.

“yun-” you don’t even manage to say his name properly, not when he grinds you down into his lap, smothering his tanned skin in your juices. the friction runs straight for your pulsing clit and you’re rendered to sinking into his welcoming arms, head collapsing into the crook of his neck, parted lips panting up a storm against his sweated skin.

“that nice for you, angel?” the soft words, the rough hands, the perfect roll of your hips. you feel like you could sob, break apart completely. yunho tracing a hand up the curve of your spine and soothing his long fingers over a knot in you back doesn’t help your case. “bet it is. little bit of release to all that tension you’ve been feeling, yeah?”

you think you nod.

it’s hard to tell.

sparks fly within your loins, heating you from the inside out. yunho, at some point, has wound his fist into the tresses of your hair, nails scrapping along your scalp. it’s pleasurable, all over, soothing you into a state of utter relaxation, a being with no purpose other than to take whatever this mass of warmth and muscles and width offers you.

his hand makes a fist and gently tugs, forcing a whine out of you as you’re faced with the bright lights once more. traces of his own cum stain the very place your face had lay. it’s erotic to see, drying up your tongue with a need to lick it clean.

“no, no, focus, right here,” a single finger taps at your cheek, followed by the tilting of your chin that forces you to stare back at the hungry eyes of jeong yunho. “eyes on me. want a front row seat to watching your eyes roll back.”

god, he’s filthy, and delicate, and that just makes him all that more filthy.

swiping his digits through the remnants of his sticky cum, he makes sure you’re staring right back at him as those same fingers snake their way down between your grinding bodies and burrow themselves deep in your soaked heat. shallow pumps of his hand fuck his cum-coated fingers deeper, long and lithe enough he barely needs to move to have you feeling him all over, everywhere.

by the time he curls them, pressing against that spongy wall, you’re just about ready to cry.

“think she’s gonna cum,” oh god, no, why must he remind you of your audience? why does it no longer frighten you to have eyes watching you be defiled but, rather, have you clenching around him tighter, chasing that fever-like ecstasy the man means to deliver? “she’s gripping my fingers so tight- shit, almost makes me wanna bust my load just thinking how warm her pussy would feel round my cock.”

“don’t let her cum,” you vow, some day, to wring the neck of park seonghwa. “just cause she’s gone all cockdrunk doesn’t mean she’s earnt-”

“shut up, hwa,” the boy’s thumb pokes up and you can’t help the way you grind down into it, smothering your clit in whatever pressure you can get. “pretty baby’s more than earned it. stop being bitter that i’m the one who’s gonna give her it.”

give you it, he does.

three fingers deep, the cocktail of your wetness mixing with his cum-cated digits aiding the ebb and flow of his rhythm, jeong yunho has your toes curling, eyes rolling, thighs shaking. you blackout, for only a moment, lost in the wilderness of pleasure.

the aftershocks are barely kicking in when you’re suddenly ripped away from yunho’s hold. the sounds of your beating heart and heaving chest muffle the disgruntled exchange of words between the swim-team, inhibiting your ability to stay clued-in on the events that surround you. all you know is that when your body meets the bench once more, on all wobbly fours, jeong yunho no longer sits tall and proud.

a sharp sting hits your rear- a smack, that echoes in the empty space of the swimming hall. the only appropriate response is the shriek you let out, twisted in your own conflicting emotions of pain, and pleasure, and painful pleasure. a second smack meets the other cheek. this time, there’s no doubt a wanton whine escapes you.

“since the rest of them can’t take orders,” you’d already known it was seonghwa whose hands were suddenly all over you, pinning you in a position of submission. the sound of his grandiose voice sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine, top to tail. “i’ll have to do it myself.”

with no word of warning, he smooths his hands down the globes of your ass, teases the crease of skin where your inner thigh meets your dripping heat, and fucks two whole fingers into your sensitive core. knuckles deep, they sit still upon initial intrusion, basking in the warmth of you and coating themselves in the essence from an orgasm you’ve yet to even fully recover from and the cum yunho’d scooped off your own face.

then, at last, when your nails dig marks into the wood below, he curls them a come-hither motion.

with shame painted on your skin, you toss your head back and release an inhumane cry, eyes hazily gazing up at the horrendous white lights above. “oh god!”

“not quite. i do appreciate the flattery though,” there’s no need to glance over your shoulder to know that pompous, trust-fund baby is wearing the most earth-shattering smirk, some stupid strand of his perfectly groomed hair dangling over one of his eyes, like some 90s heartthrob boy-band member. you do it anyway.

park seonghwa is an unfairly attractive man, sporting a beauty so ethereal it almost makes you angry.

that anger seems to dampen the wetter he gets you.

his touch is slow, but by no means is it gentle. calculated and malevolent, he plays with your insides like they’re nothing but the strings to your puppet. a curl of his fingers and one of your hands shoots forward. the torturously slow pace that he pumps his digits in and out, and your jaw falls slack. his thumb bumps and grinds against your throbbing clit, and your elbows give out, sending you crashing face-first down onto the bench.

his free hand presses down on your lower back, bending you deeper, hiking your ass up higher in the air. and, at first, you think you’re imagining it, that trickle of warmth against your other entrance, believing it nothing but a trick of your melting brain.

you’re who-knows how many hours deep in a whirlwind of pleasure and penetrative stares, people have been driven to the brink of insanity over far less in the past.

but then seonghwa’s fingers leave your cunt, warm and wet trails following their journey over your skin. there’s no imaginative mind great enough in this universe to conjure up that initial shock to feeling how he prods and pokes at your puckered hole, lubricating it with the dirty mixture of both you and yunho’s cum and his very own spit.

the tip of his pointer finger ventures onward first, breaking through the surface of your tight muscles in a shallow intrusion.

the feeling has you frozen, frightened, intrigued. eyes widening, moans dying, pussy pulsating in an empty need.

“don’t go getting shy on us now, spitfire,” the collective language he uses brings back the weight of all the boys’ eyes on you. hesitantly, you angle your face off the bench, and regret it the instant you meet the brown comfort of his eyes. “fun’s just starting. ain’t that right, san?”

a tense energy takes over the large room, with san’s shoulders tensing, and yunho’s feet fidgeting, and wooyoung’s cheeks blushing. seonghwa seems impervious to the shift, whether voluntarily or not, and instead invites himself to further exploring the limits of your body.

he’s kind enough to spare a bit of care into the way his finger sinks deeper into your unexplored hole. another dribble of his hot saliva lands messily onto you, aiding the slip and slide of his hand. two, or three, or four strokes of his finger and you’re submitting to the intrusion, hips rutting higher and presenting yourself more to the man.

“come here,” the command calls over your body and, at first, you think its aimed at you. so you try scooting further back, only to be halted by seonghwa speaking once again. “yeah you, choi. come get under her.”

for the first time since this all began, you’re on the precipice of saying no.

they’d listen, all of them. wouldn’t push you, pressure you or force you to keep going, not if you truly voiced your negation. even park seonghwa, as big an arsehole as he may be, would have no qualms ending his fun and agreeing to never speak of this again.

and it’s not that you don’t want choi san under you. far from it, as you’ve already made pretty clear earlier, thighs his personal ear-warmers while his tongue delved deep for your honey-suckle glory. you’re hardly uncomfortable at the thought of him under you, chest rising repeatedly in frantic breaths and legs bent at the knee to give him just the right leverage to fuck up into your messy cunt-

it’s not till he’s three feet away from you, hands fidgeting by his side, eyes looking anywhere but you and your compromising position, and the world’s most obnoxiously boner-strained tent in his swimming gear that realisation washes over you. you’re hesitating because of him, because of his possible discomfort.

what if he wants to say no? what if he doesn’t want to get under you? what if his eyes will never look into your own again, too shocked and disgusted by all the things you’ve let be done to you? by his own team-mates/rivals, too?

hell, you’ve shocked yourself even, never in a million years had you pictured a day you’d be at the mercy of some rich prick, overdressed for every occasion and looking like a vogue-cover-model reject. but when he’s edging another finger into the already-tight squeeze of your ass, and pushing your buttons just enough to nudge you towards an edge that never seems to arrive, how could you ever dream of being anywhere else?

a hand touches your cheek.

soft. tender. it takes the extra time to soothe the pads of its fingers against your burning cheek.

“you feeling okay?” san’s quiet tone, meant only for you, is enough to move you to near-tears. you crave his hug. the position you find yourself in only allows you to reach out and grasp at where his knee bends as he crouches down to your level. it’s all the same, san knows. san understands. his own hand lands on top of yours, messily threading digits.

“she’s literally stuffed with another man’s cum and you’re worried about her? well aren’t you just the sweetest.” a cheap remark from seonghwa.

san purposefully ignores it, and everything about the man, instead choosing to keep his focus on what matters.

you.

“think you could make some room for me down there?” your nose wrinkles at his choice of words.

his giggle echoes.

“no, no, not... like that,” he guides you as he talks, grip moving to your shoulders and coaxing you up into a seating position. somewhere along the way, seonghwa’s hands leave you. he doesn’t stray too far, however, and your back soon collides against his chest. “here, pretty. want you to make space for me down here.”

within seconds, choi san’s back in his rightful place: splayed out beneath you, body fit snug between your parted legs and hair an unruly, sweated mess against his forehead.

no clothing sits between you both, blessing you with the mouthwatering drag of his cock through your folds. hard, and red, and leaking at the tip, a slight curve to the right, dribbling precum against his well-toned stomach. you’re biting your lip before you fully register your own thoughts, body a mind of its own as you grind down onto him.

control is limited and fleeting, that of which seonghwa reminds you without uttering so much as a word. instead, he clamps a harsh grip down on either side of your hips, rucks you up to where he needs you and guides you down onto san’s cock.

it’s thick, imposing and something that seonghwa blesses you no time to ease into things. instead, you’re slammed down, san buried to the hilt inside of you.

“hey there,” delicate fingers skim up the tense muscles in your thigh and find pleasure in delivering a teasing tickle to your sides. “come here often?”

the cheeky grin, the double entendre, the way san looks so goddamn proud of himself for saying it. you can’t help it, you wind up giggling uncontrollably.

wrong choice. bad idea. danger zone.

san contorts in pain, and lust, and something else you’ve never seen behind his eyes before, hissing through his teeth like some feral cat. his eyes match that of a feline too. “you trying to squeeze my dick off or something?”

you compose yourself upon the reminder of that san can feel you tensing around him, pull in a deep breath and find your voice again, at last. “or... something.”

maybe you’re a little out of breath. maybe you’re a little hoarse. it doesn’t seem to matter to the boy below, his only response being to cant his hips up and lick at the fire burning in your insides.

“you two are disgusting,” once again, park seonghwa wins gold in the nobody-asked-for-you-bum-ass-opinion olympics. let’s see if he’ll continue his winning streak and go for gold in the hypocrite-athon too!

the hands on your sides begin you guide you, with seonghwa squeezing his perfectly manicured nails into your plush skin and bouncing you down onto san. up, down, up and down, repeated strokes like the ones their hands deliver each time they breach the surface.

it’s easy, this pleasure. it’s a gift, hand-delivered by two god-like men that sandwich you between them- one a mass that fills you, the other a weight that controls you. liberating in every sense, you can’t help the way your head rolls back to find purchase on one of seonghwa’s shoulders, completely melting into the ways he winds you over san.

“shit, yes, you feel,” san’s no better than you, mouth agape and hands unsteady as they trace every inch of skin they can reach: the dimples of your back, the swell of your breasts, the hood of your clit. his hips are the only steady thing about him, not a falter in the way they grind up to kiss your dripping pussy with his cock. “so good. so warm, tight. love it.”

a hand curls round your front, travels up between your breast and over your sternum. it settled for a grip a round your throat, no pressure applied, it simply exists against your windpipe, a silent threat.

“look what you do to him, hmm,” a squeeze around your neck. seonghwa’s warm breath fans against your ear, taunting you. “look what you’re doing to them.”

through your glossed-over gaze, you trail your way past the sight of san and all his captivating beauty, settling instead on the equally erotic, not-at-all surprising image that stands just past where his head rests at the edge of the wooden bench.

a sweaty wooyoung, bent at the waist and whining up a storm, while a far more composed yunho pounds his hips into the boy’s arse.

your walls clench and san whimpers, a string of curses and pleads leaving him.

“think you’re finally ready for me?” the devil on your shoulder- at your back, more truly,- smirks into your skin, careless enough to not even feign it being anything but a rhetoric question. ready or not, park seonghwa is going to finally get his own fill of the thrill, his own satisfaction, beyond mere observation and controlling.

the spill of your own wetness slips down your thighs as san continues to fuck himself deep. it doesn’t travel far as seonghwa coats himself in you, wetting his fingers before they slip back inside your ass. a few generous, tempting pumps into your ring of muscles, fingers spreading a little further apart each time, till he decides that’s enough, he’s ready, you’re ready.

the unbuckling of a belt.

an unzipping of trousers.

trousers bunched down muscled thighs.

the first cut may be the deepest, but you highly doubt it’s as deep as seonghwa feels feeding his cock into your arse, stretching you apart to make way for him. a part of you feels like it can’t breathe, impaled on both these men who sit so deep inside you, you fear you’ll feel the ghost of their touch for weeks to come.

but what does it matter, really, when seonghwa pulls you back against him and whispers filth against your ear? 

this is all you’re good for. cock-drunk whore. gonna let us cum inside?

and san’s coaxing you down to trail his mouth over your chest, the tongue flicking over your nipple a terrible juxtapose to his crooning words?

taking it so well, baby. so tight, and perfect, and god. ‘s that what baby needs, huh, for me to touch her little clit?

the two men find a rhythm, a synchronised routine to how they pull and push you around. their thrusts ebb and flow, no moment existing where you sit empty. they treat your body like they treat the pool, swimming through your waves of pleasure and effortlessly advancing to the finishing line, the winning stroke. then, san’s hand meets your cheek and your thoughts are dragged underwater, muffling the sounds of everyone else- the shlickt sound that echoes with each inch of cock fucked into you, the high-pitched whimpers of a fucked out wooyoung, the slapping of skin against skin- as he pulls you in for a kiss.

it’s a hungry one, all teeth and tongue and swollen lips. you pull away more breathless than before and fighting back a big dopey grin, toes curling as the swell of one of their cocks hits a nice spot inside you, body too on fire to know just exactly where the new wave of heat is coming from.

“h-how d’you do it, hm?” it’s almost a whisper, something meant only for your ears, yet you hear him loud and clear, voice stuttering off in a mess of whines and moans. “still got that pretty-girl smile, even while getting fucked silly.”

it almost makes you shy, till you remember what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with. you settle for a quick, short answer. mostly because you fear you’re losing the ability to think in full-sentences, much less speak one out loud. “can multitask.”

like your own words are the key to pandora’s box, your eyes widen, and your mouth dries, and your heart reels as a new desire burrows itself somewhere between the parts of you owned by san and the parts owned by seonghwa. the desire makes room for more, for someone more, and, without much chance for second-thoughts or hesitation, you find what little stability you can manage with one hand pressing down onto san’s toned chest and reach forward with your free hand.

fingers, light as a feather, curl around wooyoung’s solid shaft. the man’s hips stutter at the unexpected contact, eyes flying open to glance down in time to watch you reach out your tongue, licking up the droplets of precum that threaten to spill from his mushroomed tip.

“please, god, please!” he’s beyond the point of sense, poor baby, struggling to keep up with yunho’s hips’ repeated slamming into his tight ass. so, you can’t really blame him or shame him for the way he hastily rips his hand through your hair, tugging your mouth as far down his cock as the angle allows.

a few hairs rip from your skull in his grip. you reward him with a pleasant hum, moans muffled with the mouth-full he’s providing you. 

“shit- look at that,” seonghwa pipes up from behind you, the motion of his hips never faulting or failing as he continues to take part in the filthiest three-way tango known to man, hands bouncing you down to meet each raise of san’s hips, plundering the other man’s cock deep, deep, deep, till he’s kissing your cervix and you’re seeing stars before your eyes. “should cup youngie’s- fucking christ- his balls, san, cup ‘em.”

you’re vaguely aware of his compliance, hand lifting off whatever part of you it was touching- your nipple, your hip, your jaw, it’s hard to tell when you feel like san’s everywhere, all over you, part of you- to graze the set of well-groomed spheres that threaten to slap your chin each time wooyoung thrusts forward.

barely two seconds, hardly any pressure against them, and the youngest of the four is nearly in tears, wailing and begging over broken whines that it’s too much, can’t take it, don’t stop.

there’s a ringing in your ear. because everything is becoming too much: wooyoung in your mouth, san rutting up into you and seonghwa’s hands clawing and pulling your body back into each of his overpowered thrusts. the boy in front of you is the first to fall apart, twitching in your mouth and, without a warning, choking you on the cum he shoots down your throat. a hand pulls you back, just enough to paint your face in the final drops released from wooyoung.

one of the other men is next, a string of curses and grunts filling the air. there’s a new stickiness between your legs, gooey white staining your skin. it’s all building up, and up, and up, until you topple over and are sent reeling into wave after wave of blinding pressure, toes cramping up and muscles spasming as you shoot off into another astral field, creaming around san and chocking seonghwa’s cock.

you don’t register the release of your hips nor the crash-down of your body. one moment, you’re pressed back against seonghwa, mouth dropped open in a silent scream for merciless pleasure, and the next you’re cradled in san’s warm embrace, a crooning tone to the way he hushes and calms you, unheard i got yous, and did so good for us, babys, and just let me hold yous falling on deaf ears.

for a moment in your own history, time ceases to exist.

there’s no ticking of the large clock on the wall, reminding you of how long ago your shift had ended. there’s no thoughts of your plant friend drying out in the staleness of your room, desperately awaiting you to revive it with some h2o. there’s no consequences awaiting your actions, no shame to be feared and leaving you unable to look any of the four swimmers in the eye ever again.

instead of being crashed against choi san’s body, a mixture of his, yours, and several other people’s bodily fluids serving as the adhesive that keeps you stuck together in your mess, you’re floating in space, not quite alive but not quite dead, just there. 

nerves tingling, body aching, mind switched off.

four, or five, or ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by the time you regain focus on your surroundings.

your name, whispered. it’s his voice that pulls you back, sweet and soft and oh so like the san you’re used to, the one that sends teasing winks your way when your eyes happen to meet his in class, and the one who has the prettiest notes you’ve ever seen, a colour-scheme for his every highlight and the cutest of doodles to go along with the topic on the paper.

the one who’s hand is currently brushing through your hair, fingers careful as they catch on the tangles near the split ends.

“hmm,” you swear you want to say his name, say more than that, but there’s an ache in your jaw that hinders you from even attempting, your voice-box likely having taken a beaten in the throws of your pleasured moans.

“you okay there?” he giggles over the end of the sentence, and you feel your slowing heartbeat stutter at the sound.

he feels you nod into the crook of his neck and lets his free hand find perch against your hip, moments before giving it a light squeeze. 

he’s warm, and pleasant, and soft.

and moving you both into an up-right position, hands splaying flat against your back and keeping you secure against him, your legs wrapping around his slender waist. you drift off again, between time and space, and come to at the first drop of water that lands on your back.

one drop, two drops, and then a downpour of heat crashing onto both of you.

you can tell from the colour of the pinkish tiles along the communal shower floor that you’re in the women’s changing room, and mentally note to thank him, even if he’s not aware, for bringing you somewhere you won’t have to shamefully stumble out of in the nude, your change of clothes safely tucked away within one of the lockers.

“i’m gonna put you down now, okay?” he speaks so gently that it overwhelms you, answering him only with an affirmative nod of your head.

neither of you speak while he lathers shampoo into your hair, nor when he’s dragging his soap covered hands over the cum that stains your skin, wiping it away and leaving nothing but suds where the liquid once was. he doesn’t speak while covering your eyes with his hands, blocking the sting of the shampoo. you don’t speak when you inch closer, head falling forward to rest against his chest.

when he does eventually speak again, both of your fingertips are wrinkled and bodies are clean, the water of the shower serving as nothing but a way to keep warm.

“you’re, uh, not” the echo of his voice in the empty lockers feels so much more intimate than how his cries sounded by the pool. “doing anything on wednesday, right?”

too lazy to move, you angle your face to stare up at him from his chest and take a moment to just stare, look at the way his hair is sticking to his forehead, at the way his eyes are back to being wide, at the way the marks you’d littered along his neck are becoming more prominent.

“how’d you know?” your question confirms his own, and a tenseness you’d not noticed melts off of his shoulders.

“wednesday is race day. you never work race days.”

it’s such an odd detail to have noticed, and it’s making you question everything you thought you knew about your relationship with san. do acquaintances remember each other’s schedules? do acquaintances bring each other soothing teas when they notice the other developing flu symptoms? do acquaintances waste time pulling faces at each other in lectures they should probably be paying attention to.

“i’m not taking part in the race this time, by choice. my grades are good enough, don’t need to worry about winning some championship to keep my education.” san is speaking unpromptly at this point, rambling in a way you’ve only seen him do when he’s nervous, or excited, or both. “it’s okay if you don’t want to, or you have better things to do or places to be! but, i was just thinking, maybe you’d wanna spend some time with me? there’s this medieval market down on main-street, it’s meant to be really cool, and i just think it would be even cooler to go with you? but, again, you don’t have to. forget it, actually, i’m being stupid and assuming you’re not doing something with your friends or your-”

the kiss you interrupt him with is far more innocent than the one you shared earlier, no hands rushing to touch and tongues desperate to taste, just two sets of lips moving as one.

you pull back and he chases after you, lips landing another peck before you’re grasping his cheek in your hold and forcing him back.

“i think you could have asked me to come help clean your apartment for you and i’d still say yes, just to spend my day with you,” you say, and he smiles as if on instinct, unable to stop it even if he tried.

“really?”

“really.”

“good, cause i already bought us two tickets and i really didn’t wanna have to go alone.” there’s drops of water dancing on his eyelashes, and laziness in his every movement, and you’re both still very much naked, but none of that seems to matter when he gives you another peck, like he’s awakened an addiction and your lips are now his favourite vice. “but, now that you mention it, my apartment could do with some cleaning. and i bet you’d look amazing in a maid outfit.”

a slap echoes in the showers.

“hey! don’t worry, i’ll be wearing a matching one!”

[star-suh]

🎃 Wrong Summoning 🎃

jeong yunho x male reader

cw: top incubus yunho, fingering, rimjob, facial, sex toy use, edging, sensory deprivation, handcuffing, pwp.

—

"y'all guys are crazy" said y/n to his group of friends that just entered lord seonghwa's castle and robbed a mysterious book "you know you all can go to the jail for this?" he says nervously. "shh dude no one would know about this" one of his friends said "you guys are known for being troublemakers" replied y/n and then other friend commented "that's why you gonna save this book" he then pushes the book towards y/n's chest "no, i don't want to" they began to struggle between the two and pages of the book flew out. "hey yow two!! what are you doing?" a cop yells and both started to run. "are you ok boy?" asks the cop to y/n and he just nods holding tight the book between his hands. at his home, y/n bored decided to open the book and translate what it says in there the letters on the book started to burn, a pentagram appeared in the floor of his room and in the blink of an eye a creature, a sexy creature, appeared "who dares to summon me, me the lord of lust and pleasure" says the demon with an angry but hot face, "you human, who dared to ruin my pleasure time i was having on my realm, deserve a punishment" he smirked…

y/n was blindfolded, handcuffed with only his shirt on. his ass was up being groped by the incubus "this hole is so pretty" he says inserting one of his long fingers "i like how it's clenching. looks so inviting" the demon just dive between the ass cheeks and introduced his long wet tongue tasting the insides of y/n. "hngh~ sooo…. deep…" moaned y/n feeling the wet muscle abusing his hole. he then put his thick cock between y/n's cheeks and started to rub it "the name's yunho" he growled while doing motions as if he was fucking the human.

"pl-please just put it in a-already" stuttered the human humping the bed wanting to feel release. "eager much" smirked yunho who inserted the tip of his cock inside the puckered hole "i'm the one in charge here tho,  i would rail you whenever i want" he then pushed his cock inside all at once the motion pushing y/n forward, he let's out a moan and saliva started to come out of the corner of his mouth, "soo… big" he whimpered. yunho pulled out letting the tip of his cock still inside y/n when something caught his attention, a dildo, using telekinesis he brings it towards him then spits on it, takes out his cock and inserts the toy inside y/n. yunho grabs y/n by the waist and lifted him and started to fuck him with the dildo at a fast pace destroying the boy's insides. "i think i'm gonna c-cum" whimpered y/n, "no you don't"  says yunho summoning a ring around y/n's cock denying his release "fucking hell" yelled the guy having a dry orgasm. "let me cum… please" begs the restrained boy "i would do anything if you let me… please. just please". "ok" was the only thing the demon muttered.

y/n was riding yunho, both in a sitting position, while he jerks him off "tell me what is our contract so i can let you cum?" asked the lusty demon biting one of y/n's nipples. "you would… hngh… let me cum b-but. but from now on… my hole belongs to… you~" he whimpers feeling that building sensation on his tummy "that's right my fuck toy" yunho flickes his fingers making the ring around y/n's cock dissappear and they boy released all his cum, it was like a fountain, jets of sperm shooting upwards covering the couple in cum, with yunho licking it and feeding with it.

yunho stood up quickly "tongue out" he demanded and started to jerk off above y/n's face "get ready to taste my demon sperm" he grunts stroking hard and fast his thick cock until he finally came covering y/n's face in thick cum and then lick it clean and spit it inside y/n's mouth "swallow it" he demanded and y/n obeyed and licked his lips "so sweet" commented y/n and then yunho kissed him, with his tongue exploring inside y/n's mouth. "see you later pretty boy" he waved goodbye and disappeared.

yunho walked into a bar and went straight to the darkest table with an angry face "hey you bastard, do you know some stupid kids stole a book from your library?" he was received by a pair of two red eyes, a pink haired man drinking blood on a cup "those motherfuckers summoned me and interrupted my orgy and there is even a piece of my soul out there possessing devil knows who". "i really don't give a fuck whore" replied lord seonghwa "everyone thinks i'm dead so it's not my fucking problem now" he laughs. "and why is that?" asked yunho curious, "stop being so noisy" replied lord seonghwa. "you're an annoying bitch you know?... here" the book appeared on yunho's hand and he place it on the table "save it well motherfucker, i don't want more people summoning me, goodbye i need to find the other piece of my soul", "goodbye" the vampire said and kept enjoying his blood cup while waiting for his servant until he comes from the bathroom. 

[spicyseonghwas]

yunho monster cock confirmed courtesy of a post posted by @whatudowhennooneseesyou & @flwrboi if i remember correctly

✨very✨ sexual words under the cut. if you dont like it then either keep scrolling or get off my blog, i dont care nor did i ever ask. sexual attraction is human, just like me. <3

why is it that ive never seen a yunho fancam where he DIDNT have a literal fucking ✨dragon boner✨. why.

why.

i would in no world not suck it all night long the second he asked.

and honestly?

he wouldnt even have to ask.

:D

truthfully tho i would be a lot more inclined to let him fuck my throat if he were to do one or more of the following:

a) manhandle me

b) call me names (specifically: bitchboy, cocksleeve, slut, prince, brat, whore)

c) wrap those pretty pretty hands around my throat and fucking ✨squeeze.✨

[jensthwa]

mountebank chem pt. three (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 16.5k (dear god).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, this chapter is truly them being cute and barely fighting which is ???, healthy competition i think, they get a serious case of the silly goose at some point, mentions of drinking at some point, gyuri being an overprotective friend, meeting new people, emotional talk involving kids yall will see why, pet names (princess), descriptions of female and male anatomy, first kisses!! *the crowd cheers*, a little bit of dry humping... *the crowd boos* and unresolved feelings!!!! *the crowd AND y/n leave in angry tears*.

NOTES: hi everyone! here's part three of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. so, so sorry it took so long but i had a bit of a writer's block these past months :(. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of this series and the rest of the stories of this universe on my masterist! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 5th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part two.

There's this image of you that flashes across Yunho’s mind. 

It happened right before he fell asleep last night, too, and he's having a hard time figuring out if he only dreamed it or if it actually happened. 

The skin on your back glistening, the cut of the dress after he pulled down the zipper just enough to not be disrespectful. 

He did it out of instinct, out of the sudden familiarity he felt between you both. He did it because, before he had the genius idea of helping you with your dress (to get it off in some way, what the fuck is wrong with him), you were really close to his face and he couldn't think straight for the remainder of the time he was in your presence. 

There was a time in his life where the mere thought of you brought discomfort to him. It kinda brings discomfort to him now, too, but it's a different kind of discomfort. It's dull, it's confusing and it's angering at the same time because, if he was sure of something before, it was the fact that he never really wanted to be near you. 

You were the bane of his existence when you two were kids, something that was forced on him the second your parents wanted and he despises the lack of control and freedom he's always had around you. 

And now there's a flash of you genuinely laughing at him for blushing after the old lady from last night gave him some not-so-innocent compliments in front of everyone. There's a flash of you defending him when you really didn't need to, even if you stated otherwise. 

There's a flash of you wiping the corners of your mouth after finishing the food he made you, a visage that completely besots him. 

He never really wanted to kiss you. 

Only once, at your graduation party, but that was drunk him and playing spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven really did a number on his teenage hormones at the time. 

He remembers the bottle landing on the girl next to you and the guy next to you and the guy next to the guy next to you. Yunho kissed them all with the hope of kissing you at some point that night. Just because he was curious, because deep inside of him he knew your parents plans all along. 

He didn't get to do it, though, and so it didn't really matter; the wish died as soon as he woke up the next day with a huge hangover and a dry mouth. Yesterday, he thought the same would happen if he went to sleep and dreamed about anything but you. 

That, of course, didn't happen. 

Now he’s just left trying to figure out what the fuck is going on exactly as the memory of your lips and the sting of annoyance that follows the thought of him wanting you in any way other than fifty feet apart distracts him from whatever his friends are saying right now. 

“He lost his fucking mind,” Gyuri stands in front of him, hands on her hips and furrowed brows like a mother who’s scolding her troubled child. She collapses on the couch behind her a second later, next to her best friend who’s giggling at her and her reaction “He’s not even answering to me.” 

They called for an emergency meeting at San and Wooyoung’s place, as expected. He was supposed to see them on saturday anyway but now he gave the friend group a reason to hang out a day earlier. Seonghwa did too, but his story, apparently, is more interesting than the oldest sudden girlfriend. 

In a way, they both got out of nowhere partners. But the friend group is hanging out a day earlier than expected so he’s not really sure why he’s being reprimanded for something so out of his control. 

They don't know this is out of his control. Maybe that's why. 

Wooyoung takes a sit in front of him, on top of the wooden table separating the space between the tv and the couch and puts a hand on his shoulder, like a father who’s trying to be on his side of things without offending his wife “Care to explain yourself, Yunho?” 

He decides to play pretend so he doesn’t have to think about it more than he needs to “Explain what?” 

As Gyuri gasps, Woo shakes his head before dramatically hanging it low.  

“God help you, my dear friend.” 

Gyuri gets up again and Wooyoung gets up as well, stepping aside so he can give space to her to regard poor little him with the angriest look ever directed at an innocent man.

He thanks Mingi for opening the front door of the apartment right at that moment. 

Behind him, Mingi’s girlfriend, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa follow suit. San is in the kitchen finishing the dishes and Jongho is at school, taking a quiz or something, he thinks. 

He didn’t really read the group chat like that. They just requested his presence and he spawned in the apartment half an hour later.

But he didn't take into account that he was seeing Mingi that day too. Mingi, his best friend for a few years now, the only person he should've actually told what was going to happen yesterday night. 

He fucked up. 

“Can you let the man explain himself, Gyuri?” Mingi asks, down on one knee and helping his girl take off her shoes. Yunho wants to roll his eyes but Mingi is, after all, head over heels for her. 

How is he going to explain to them that he’s not head over heels over his new, sudden girlfriend? That, in fact, he thought he despised her until yesterday. 

And that now he’s not able to shake her from his thoughts even if he desperately wants to. 

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa asks and Gyuri turns and points at him. 

“We’re talking to you after we talk to him.” She makes a show of her threat, her pointed finger moving to Yunho’s forehead and slightly pushing him back on his seat. 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and plops down on the couch, next to San’s girlfriend “Oh, my God.” 

“I’m sorry,” she tells him with a tiny smile “She’s freaking out today.” 

Wooyoung turns the tv on. His laptop is connected to it through a long, orange cord and when Yunho turns to the screen, it shows a picture of him and you with plastic smiles that look too real. 

If only people knew. 

“This is what’s going on,” he says, pointing to the image and then leaning into his laptop to click a new tab “The Jeong and Kim empires merge into one after their youngest announce they’re in a relationship at yesterday’s twenty year celebratory gala,” reading directly from the article, Yunho manages to cringe at the wording of it before Wooyoung turns to him “Since when, bitch?” 

Yunho opens his mouth to reply but both Yeosang and Seonghwa make a surprised noise. 

“Oh?”

“Isn’t she…?” Yeosang looks at him “Is she?”

He nods and Yeosang claps, mumbling a I knew it under his breath. 

“So that’s what she meant when she told me I looked familiar, she knows you!”  Seonghwa smiles a little and then his expression turns into a frown, like he just realized something he shouldn't “When did you start dating her?”

“Well, actually—”

“And didn’t tell us?” Mingi’s girlfriend looks very offended but he can tell she’s half joking, especially when Mingi smirks a little and then joins her with a pout. 

His best friend looks at him a second too long, though and that lets him know he might be a little offended. 

Mingi opens his mouth to speak but a choir of voices stops him from doing so and Yunho breathes out his regret for even showing up and for not explaining everything to Mingi first. 

“What do they mean ‘merge their empires’. Are you getting married?” 

“When did you even meet her?”

“Through his family, I suppose.” 

“Are you getting married?” 

“So did you cheat on her like two months ago with that girl from the bar?” 

“No, no, he didn’t hook up with the girl, that was Hongjoong.” 

“Sure I did,” he says and gives Yunho a look, like he doesn’t remember who they’re talking about “Yuyu, can I be the main groomsman?” Hoonjong asks as San returns with a snack plate on his hand and he takes it from him when he offers it, putting some chips on his mouth immediately “Hwa, too. We're the oldest, so.” 

Mingi scoffs “And I’m literally his best friend, don’t even try it.” 

“That’s literally me, oh my God? Liar?” 

Yunho is starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the amount of noise he normally would contribute to. 

Right now? He wants everyone to shut up while he finds a way of explaining everything and not sound completely insane in the process. 

It’s quite the normal concept, he thinks. Arranged matrimonies are a thing in a lot of cultures and in his it’s more subtle than anything, not quite what it used to be, but they’re still there especially for families like his. 

He’s not getting married, he should also clarify that. But as Mingi takes hold of Wooyoung’s laptop and scrolls through the article and then turns to him asking for an explanation with his eyes instead of his words, all the coherent sentences he just put together in his mind die on his tongue. 

Mingi is not really one to pry, but his stare tells him that he’s a little bit concerned with everything. After all, he’s the only one who understands the full complicated history Yunho has with his family. 

“Guys,” he says, all mischievousness wiped out of his face “let him explain and don’t interrupt.” 

The noise quiets down and everyone looks at him, expectant and curious. Now that he’s able to untense his shoulders and take a calming breath, he also notices a few concerned stares that join Mingi in the sentiment. 

Alright. Okay. He can do this. 

Yunho sends his best friend a thankful smile before gulping down his nerves. 

“That’s Kim Y/N,” he points at the tv screen, although half of your face is cut off because Mingi scrolled down to read “I’ve known her since we were kids, her parents and my parents are really good friends and her dad helped my dad launch his company, so we were… They were celebrating that yesterday.” 

Everyone nods and then he catches Seonghwa’s eye “My brother and her brother are very good friends, too. You know Soohyun hyung, don’t you?” 

“Oh,” he seems taken by surprise by that “he’s a new client.” 

“I figured,” Yunho smiles, “He’s a good guy, just a little…” 

“Carefree?” Hwa offers. 

“Mhm. Anyways,” he shakes his head, trying to get back on track “Jeong Tech made a huge mistake a few months ago and so they decided to announce our relationship yesterday to kind of… Everyone loves Y/N,” he says quickly “She’s… We—” 

“Are you two together or not?” Wooyoung asks, clearly confused and when everyone shushes him he mutters his apologies. 

Yunho wants to answer him with the truth. He really does and it’s right there, ready to come out, but he thinks about you. About everything you told him yesterday, about how you actually seemed to care to please your parents.

He thinks about his own mother’s threats. 

And he knows it’s a little stupid wondering if someone in this room would tell, but he hesitates. 

It hurts him to hesitate but then someone speaks up. There, curled around San’s arm and peeling open an orange, his savior speaks up.

“Relationship of convenience,” she says softly and matter of factly, turning heads in her direction “What? I could’ve told you this two hours ago,” she points at Gyuri and Wooyoung “But you refused to explain! Come on, everybody,” giggling, she offers a freshly peeled slice to her boyfriend. “I work with books for a living, you work with books for a living!” She points at Woo again, “This trope is classic,” and then she looks back at him with a kind and honest smile. “You two do look good together, though. Are you friends, at least?” 

He hesitates. You both definitely, sort of, made amends last night. But it's a little weird and, suddenly, also hard to explain. 

Yunho thought the word friends would've just rolled out of his tongue naturally, as a little white lie to ease everyone's worries. Now, it hardly makes its way onto it so he just nods after a long pause that definitely raises suspicion on everyone's face. 

“We've known each other for a very long time, went to highschool together and everything,” that seems to eradicate some of the doubts, because San grins and turns to his girlfriend with a knowing smile that she returns. 

Gyuri is not as convinced “But are you friends?” 

“Yes,” he returns immediately after that, wanting the conversation to be over. He’s not lying, not really, not after what you both said yesterday “We are, we’re trying to be.” 

“So you hate the bitch. Got it.” Gyuri nods. 

Yunho takes offense to that, oddly enough. Because no, he doesn't hate you, not a little, not at all. 

He thinks. 

Besides, he confirmed yesterday that you're not much of a bitch and it hurts that Gyuri thinks you are one, but San’s girlfriend it's already handling that before he has the opportunity to defend you like you defended him. 

“Babe, don't call her that.” 

Gyuri raises her hands defensively “I'm just taking preventive action! What if she is a bitch?” 

“She's not.” Yunho says and they both turn their heads to him, Gyuri with a frown and her best friend with a knowing smile. 

What does she know that he doesn't? Beats him. 

Instead, he settles “She's just… Well, she's—” 

“Intense?” Gyuri offers. 

Wooyoung shakes his head and points to his ex “No, that's you.” 

For once, he's glad their bickering interrupts him because he doesn't really know how to describe you. What's his current opinion on you? He has no clue. It's weird, he hates it a bit, but the feeling is there and the words are on the verge of spilling out of his mouth.

San’s girlfriend gasps and then murmurs an excited: “I love enemies to lovers!”

“I don't think real people can fit into fictional tropes, babe,” Gyuri returns, taking a slice she's offering in her direction before eyeing Yunho “Or can they?” 

That he can answer “We're not enemies and we're definitely not lovers.” He says with a shrug. 

“You're something way worse then,” San’s girlfriend nods and then smiles in excitement “Can't wait!” 

“For what?” Yunho asks in a whisper but Mingi, thankfully, interrupts. 

“Why are they talking about marriage, then?” He asks, his concern is palpable and Yunho feels kind of bad. He feels really bad, actually. 

He could have told him this, at least. He could have talked about you, but the truth is that his mind avoided remembering you if not necessary; that’s how much you two seemed to hate each other.

Now? 

It’s kind of complicated not to think about you when you’re plaguing his mind, infecting it like a virus. 

Or painting it, like the canvases he saw in your room yesterday. 

Do you paint? Is that something you like to do in your free time? 

Why does he feel like he knows very little about you, all of the sudden? 

He groans and then shakes his head. 

“There’s no marriage, they’re getting ahead of themselves,” he clarifies. 

“Is there going to be a marriage?” 

There's movement on the screen now and he sees Mingi’s girlfriend scrolling unapologetically through the article. She's watching a video of the both of you posing together for a picture and there's something that pulls inside of him. His eyes attempt to water but he manages to keep his emotions down, locked up because there's a lot of feelings he won't put on his friends. 

He's sure they think of him as a dumb puppy who's actually very academically smart, just a little clumsy with his social interactions. He's been pretending he is, anyway. 

The only one who really sees through him is Mingi but even him, to some degree, has bought his immature act. And to some extent it became real for Yunho himself, too, so deep fears and sad emotions are off the table. 

So he pulls himself together and turns to his friend.

“I think she has an escape plan if our parents decide to marry us off to each other,” he admits, snorting out a laugh that’s a little bitter but more amused than anything, he shakes his head “So no, no engagement, no marriage.” 

“Why, what's wrong with you?” Gyuri asks, eyes squinted with prejudice and suspicion “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“Well, that's not… Gyuri,” he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not really knowing what to say to his friend's question, so he looks at Mingi with begging eyes “That's not really the point, right?” 

“Don't look at me, she's right,” Mingi shrugs, “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“Because we're not in love!” 

Wooyoung scoffs “And yet you're a perfectly fine and rich young man, so why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“So we officially hate her, right?” Gyuri says and claps her hands before standing up again for the millionth time and heading his way. Her hands fall on his shoulders and he has to crane his neck to see her from below “Okay, then! What's the plan? Do we get rid of her?” 

“No!” 

“I could, if that's what you want.”

His head snaps at Hongjoong at the suggestion, disbelief writing on his face “I love you guys but the Yunho protection squad needs to dissolve right now, everything’s fine!” 

“Is it?” Mingi asks and Yunho takes his time to look at his best friend before nodding. 

“It is. We're supposed to break up eventually anyway,” air leaves his lungs in a long sigh and then he gulps a little, not really sure how to say what he wants to say without offending anyone. And Gyuri's hands are still on him, so the pressure doubles at the potential threat of physical harm that his next statement can get him. “Listen, I won't make any of you sign nda’s or anything like that because I trust you but please, please don't tell anyone this.” 

He looks around the room and sees wide eyes before they turn understanding and when his friends nod in agreement, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. 

Literally, Gyuri moves to sit next to Wooyoung who tries to put an arm around her and fails. 

“You're not that famous, Yunho,” Hongjoong kisses his teeth and the mood shifts into the lighthearted one he's used to “Unlike me. I'm a celebrity among my peers.” 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes “Yeah, because all the criminals turned music students turn guitarists of a nugu rock band worship you.” 

Hongjoong ignores him but his smile is tense and his eyes are squinted in fake joy when he speaks again “You are going to the gig tomorrow, right?” 

He laughs “Of course. I might be a little late but I'll get to see your set.” 

Hongjoong frowns “Why?” 

“I have a schedule now, so…” 

“Oh, my God,” San’s girlfriend squeaks, typing something in her phone and Yunho catches his friend fondly following with his eyes the sentences she's putting together “And what else do you have to do now?” 

“Babe, I hope you're not writing a story about this.” Gyuri warns but her friend ignores her and turns to Seonghwa. 

Who realizes right away what she's doing, gaping at her and her betrayal with feign hurt. Yunho gets it a second later and his lips curve upwards a little. 

“And what did you do to get a girlfriend so fast? It was the motorcycle, wasn't it?” 

Wooyoung gasps and Gyuri seems to remember suddenly that there were two important subjects to dissect on the table today, so she gets up again with her hands on her hips and stares at him like a distressed mother.

“What the hell were you thinking, Park Seonghwa? Girlfriend? You met her yesterday!” 

“Three days ago, but yes, maybe—” 

“Oh, three days ago! That's an eternity in dog years, right? Are you a dog, Seonghwa?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes practically meet the back of his head and Yunho has to stifle a laugh “Not a dog, Gyuri, just a guy.” 

She pauses and then makes a face. 

“That… Actually makes a lot of sense.” 

“We made the mistake of calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend way too soon. But, to be fair, his text messages woke us up,” Seonghwa's finger is pointing to Yunho and he pouts as a response “Kind of, so we were sleepy and—”

“Sure, let's hang out tonight so you can meet my girlfriend,” Hongjoong reads directly from his phone and shakes his head. Yunho can't actually tell if he's offended or not “Not even a warning first.”

“I literally told you about her and you told me to go for it.” 

“Did I?” 

“Yeosang was there.” 

At the mention of his name, Yeosang looks up from his phone and smiles shyly at the oldest two “Correct.”

There's a bit of silence and then Hwa clears his throat softly. 

“She's going to be my girlfriend though,” he says, almost in a whisper but everyone hears him “So I don't know what the big deal is.” 

Wooyoung slumps from the couch to the ground with his eyes closed in defeat “Oh, dear God.” 

“The big deal is that—” 

Gyuri's voice fades to the background and he catches Hwa telling her that she's not his mother or something before tuning the discussion out. 

When he turns to his left, Mingi is still eyeing him to make sure he's okay. Yunho nods and smiles and then offers his hand to him, which he takes. 

Mingi's girlfriend turned off the laptop and is watching the interaction with a tiny contempt curve to her lips and, when Yunho catches a glimpse at San’s girlfriend from behind his friends built form (she's completely hiding behind him from all the chaos Gyuri is bringing to the living room), she catches his eye and then blinks one of hers in complicity. 

Again, Yunho wonders what she knows that he doesn't. 

But with the attention off of him, your face returns to his head.

So he's not really able to concentrate on anything else for the remainder of the hang out. When he finally, finally has his mind occupied by something else (San dared him to beat him at Mario Kart and Jongho brought food and drinks as an apology for completing his academic duties instead of showing up to the meeting), a text pops up from an unknown number. 

+82-5-059-6733: Hey. Added your number  from that stupid group chat our brothers made because telling each other things through our assistants makes me physically ill, hope you don't mind.  +82-5-059-6733: Actually, I don't really care if you mind. If you block me, I'll find another phone to text you on. +82-5-059-6733: Anyway, I'll send you the address of where we're going fashionably late tonight. It's an early drive so you're free to skip this (Do skip it please).  +82-5-059-6733: Jeong Yunho, do not ignore me or I swear to God…

He hates that, after reading his home screen, he has a smile on his lips. You sound both formal and pushy through text, too and he didn't think it was possible to have so much personality that it filters through writing as well. He's finding out new things about you and, although he made it a point to ask you to get along yesterday, it still feels really weird to do so.

When he turns to the screen again, he's down a few spots and San’s character speeds besides his in its kart. 

“Is it her?” San asks, looking at him for a second, a knowing smile on his lips. 

“It is but I'm not smiling because it's her,” he defends himself but there's a tint to his cheeks that might give him away. San laughs “Shut up. Your girlfriend’s schemes are rubbing on you.” 

At the mention, he catches through the corner of his eye as his friend turns to the mentioned girl and Yunho smiles again before he hears him sigh, completely and utterly in love. 

“Thank God.” 

He recovers on the game while San is distracted, passing him and winning the race. The sound of it ending makes San snap his head back and watch as Yunho relaxes on the couch in egotistical victory. 

“Ugh.” 

The sun is shining through the clouds even though it was supposed to rain again. There's a singular gray one moving ominously among the other ones and threatening to mess up what you planned for the day. 

It suspiciously moves past you and into the city when Yunho's car pulls up the hill. By the time he gets down, the sun is shining in full force and you roll your eyes when he regards you and your closed arms with a wink. 

What does he gain out of this? You've been wondering since that night if coming here is better than staying at home for the weekend. 

He could stay at his dorm, though. Is that an option? The curiosity you feel towards him now has completely taken over. It feels disgusting. 

Either way, you hate that he actually showed up. That means someone, somewhere around you, is going to casually document the thing you kept to yourself for a long time. No because it's a secret but because there's no real need for anyone to know that you do this. 

Your presence on social media is scarce, you have one open account that you use every six months (if you remember to use it at all) and the one you stalk people of your circle on. You have a twitter account that's private and not under your real name, a youtube account that doesn't really count as social media in your eyes and nothing else. 

No one needs to know you do these sorts of things. Then, you wouldn't be doing it out of the kindness of your heart but to get sympathy points. Even though you'll always do it because you want to and not because you have to. 

There's a lot of things you have to do, like your relationship with Yunho, but never this. 

You know it's only like five out of one hundred people who wish you ill but those few people are enough to tarnish the affection the kids have for you, the trust you worked so hard to gain the few years you've been trying to make this orphanage somewhat quality-of-life acceptable. 

You stumbled upon it one of those drunk early mornings where you had to walk around to get the alcohol out of your system before even daring showing up home or near it. Not because your family didn't know what you were up to, but because of the possible photographers roaming around the house. 

A drunk underage daughter was worse than anything back then. Maybe it is now, too, but you remembered the mistake you made the first time you got drunk and the absolute reaping your mother gave you. 

So when you locked eyes with a middle aged woman in the middle of nowhere after walking around half an hour before in heels, your almost-sober self pretended to be lost just to talk to someone and feel safe. The sun was barely showing that day and you were cold and sad and angry for not controlling yourself at the party and it must've shown in your face because you saw the woman taking a deep breath before offering you to step inside. 

At that hour, the kids were asleep. There were traces of them everywhere, though and you remember the way your heart sank at the lifeness of the space even in the still hours of the morning. 

It looked lived in, enjoyable and cozy. You never had that. Toys were put back in their place the second you got distracted by the tv or a book or when your mother said that was enough playing around for the day. Your room was always neat and tidy, put together and devoid of any evidence that you were real. 

That has changed a little now, but back then seeing something you didn't have struck something within you. There was obviously no way you would complain about it out loud, though. 

You had everything solved, your struggle has always been insignificant when compared with everyone else outside of your circle. It's fine, it's always been fine and the tears brought to your eyes when the middle aged woman put a hand on your shoulder and consoled you when she saw the environment was affecting you meant nothing. 

You tried to convince yourself they meant nothing and tried to keep your heart where it belonged: inside of your tinsel bubble, frozen and harsh so that no one takes advantage of you.

And then she managed to melt the ice not even five minutes into explaining what it was that they did there. She said her position wasn't permanent, that the district kept changing directors and that the quality of life they were able to give to the kids was acceptable at best. Not good, not what they deserved. 

Maybe that was the first time you took advantage of your privilege for something good. Because next thing you knew, you were putting together a presentation and pressing your father to do something about the home. 

Your mother was scandalized but she agreed to do something with your ideas if your brother was put on the front of the newspapers, inaugurating the renovations made to the place. 

Saturdays have been destined to the orphanage since then. They know not to put anything else on your schedule for the day, they know not to film you or send photographers per your request. Because your brother was already seen making the good deed a few years ago, so there's not really a way to take advantage of this anymore. 

Besides, the district still manages it and no amount of volunteering can help the fact that its administration and the decisions that they make are as dumb as you believing for a second that Yunho was going to take your advice and stay home today.

Yunho being here changes things, you know it does. Why did they put this in his new schedule if not? You thought it was a punishment for him but now you're not so sure. 

There's lack of movement, lack of press, lack of your mother's touch to it so you wonder what's the angle here. And, as usual, Yunho seems to be in the dark about the things plaguing your mind. 

You point at his outfit in retaliation when he gets near you and your mother’s assistant, who became yours for the day. 

“Is this what you could put together with such a long notice?” 

“You said casual.” 

“And this is your casual?” 

At some point these past few days, and after seeing all the pictures of you two together at the gala, you came to terms with Yunho’s attractiveness. Objectively, he's a handsome guy. His dad was handsome at one point, his mom is absolutely breathtaking and his brother is handsome as well. They're just a family of naturally physically gifted people, alright? 

But it is kind of unfair that he can look this good in flared jeans and a white fitted shirt, for fucks sake. He looks like he just got out of a Calvin Klein shoot… If the shoot was somehow made in the seventies. The black belt and the black boots with a tiny platform he's wearing add to the whole look and your eye twitches a little. 

He looks really fucking cool, actually but there's no way in hell you would ever accept that. Handsome? Sure. Cool? Your mind is tricking you somehow. 

It's that warmth that invaded your body when he made you food a few nights ago making you think nonsense. You want to desperately get rid of it. 

He scoffs but a tiny smile tugs at his lips when he looks you up and down “Is this yours?” 

Looking down at your wide leg trousers, your kitty heels and your short sleeved cotton top, you fail to see where the problem is. 

“Duh.” 

He whistles, low and for a few seconds and for a moment you think he's doing it because of you and your heart beats erratically until you realize his eyes are fixed on the orphanage.

You smile a little. 

These past few years you've been able to get funding and provide funding to it, so the renovations just keep coming and coming. It doesn't look like the one you found refuge on that morning a few years ago at all and it definitely doesn't look like the one your brother had the chance to be photographed with either. 

Right now, it has a little bit of your touch: It looks like an elegant structure, but a building that's also suitable for children to be in. It has a playground vibe to it, the exterior and the design of the new entrance you approved a few months ago only solidifies it.

The kids love it. You didn't exactly run the design through them but it would've shown if they didn't. 

They're very expressive, but decisive too. Bossy, even. You look at Yunho and you want to smile fully because he simply doesn't know what he got himself into. 

That proves to be true as the hours go by. The kids raise their eyebrows when they meet him, say hi to him with a bow and then turn to you for explanations. When you say that this is a new friend that's going to be helping out that day, you don't miss the way Yunho lights up a bit besides you. 

And then that light is completely stolen by hour three, you see it as he chases kids around the yard. It hurts that they acclimated so fast to him but, again, when you got there the first time the place wasn't really one where they felt completely safe. 

This proves that you helped change that. Good. 

There's a few of them, the older ones, that sit on the ground and stare daggers at Yunho like he's going to hurt the younger kids at any moment. These kids were practically toddlers when you met them and they had a hard time being around you when you started to show up regularly. 

They barely spoke a word and, when they did, they yelled at you for not playing with the toys like you were supposed to, or because you looked too clean and too pretty to be messing with paint or something of the sort. 

It took months for you to build that trust and now the oldest is a tween with shaggy hair and a scowl on his face because he thinks of Yunho the same way he thought of you when he was just a kid.  

He barely notices when you crouch next to him, the hand you put on his shoulder making him jump slightly. 

“I understand the feeling of wanting to punch Yunho in the face,” you start, smiling and then tilting your head a little “but you're going to burn a hole on his back if you keep staring at him like that, Hyunjoon.”  

“Then why did you bring him here?” His frown deepens and you shrug “We were just fine with everything here and now there's a stranger playing tag with my little brother,” he shakes his head “I don't like it.” 

Sighing and then turning to Yunho, you see the exact moment his attempts to escape Haejoon, Hyunjoon’s little brother, are sabotaged by Hyunjoon’s best friend, Soyi. 

“I think you're a little jealous.” 

“What?” 

You want to laugh when his head snaps at you, chest heaving in preteen anger at the word jealous. 

“Yeah, not because he's playing with Haejoon but because Soyi is there too,” you shrug again, readjusting your crouching position because it hurts your legs but there's no way you're sitting on the ground “You like her, Yunho is handsome and you're jealous.” 

He turns away from you and you laugh when he makes a disgusted face that then turns into mild discomfort and ends up being a full pout.

“We're fighting.” 

“You and Soyi?” He nods and you sigh “What is it now?” 

“I dunno.” He murmurs with a shrug. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I don't know what I did! Okay?”

There's this uncharacteristically amount of patience you have when it comes to these kids that don't run out even if they yell at you and cause a few heads to turn your way. It never really bothers you except today, when you know there's possibly someone monitoring your movements. 

Yunho’s assistant, most likely. You know yours is compliant and doesn't really give a fuck about what goes on here, her focus on her tablet the whole time, probably arranging things for her actual boss (your mom). 

“Have you asked her?” He shakes his head “Then maybe start by asking her, later today if you want,” you rush to clarify when you see him tense up at the idea “Or tomorrow or the next day but don't let silly things get in the way of your friendship with her, hm?” 

His pout returns and his eyes start to water a little but before you have the opportunity to make him laugh the sadness away, someone jogs towards you both. 

“Everything alright?” 

Yunho’s sweating, he's out of breath and squinting his eyes because of the sunlight and it reminds you of when you used to cross paths during recess, back in highschool. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Hyunjoon sulks and scoffs at him and, once again, you suppress your laughter. 

“We're fine. Did you need something?” 

“No, no, Soyi just asked me to—” He stops when Hyunjoon's reaction gives away the root of his sulking and you see him glance at you once. You don't give Hyunjoon secrets away, though. “She asked me to tell you that she's going to start counting in two minutes and you are both obligated to play.” 

“Ah, yes, the mandatory hide and seek of the day.��� You nod and watch as Hyunjoon's eyebrows raise in interest “Tell her it's okay, that she can start counting now.” 

Yunho raises his eyebrows as well, curiosity on his face “And you're hiding too?” 

“It's mandatory, Yunho. Do you know what mandatory means?” 

He clicks his tongue “I obviously do, Y/N, it was a simple question. Do you have to—” 

“Don't speak to her like that, ahjussi!” 

Once again, Yunho is interrupted by Hyunjoon and this time you can't help but laugh at the pure shock on his face. It warms your heart that a kid that was once so reluctant to have you around is defending you and you think your expression might give the feeling away because Yunho says nothing in return, just nods once and then presses his lips together, fighting a smile “I'll go tell her, then.” 

“No!” Hyunjoon gets up quickly and you do too, your legs and feet thanking you “I'll do it, she's my best friend.” 

It's the threatening (and very cute) look Hyunjoon sends in Yunho’s direction before sprinting towards Soyi and his brother that breaks the both of you into giggles. 

Only when your laughter dies down is that you turn to Yunho, arms crossed as you look him up and down to assess the real damage caused these first few hours.

No other reason. 

“Thought you said these kids were tough.” 

You shrug and he smiles “They are but you came here with me, so they're going easy on you.” 

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it.” Yunho nods and then turns over his shoulder. You do too, only to find Soyi with her hands over her eyes and counting already “Better don't get caught first, Kim.”  

Walking towards the spot you usually hide in when it's mandatory hide and seek time, you bump your arm with his in not-so-fake animosity. 

“You better not get caught, Jeong.” 

“Is that a dare?” He yells when you're almost out of reach. 

“I don't know,” you yell back “Is it?” 

You miss the way his eyes follow you until you're out of frame, until some kid whose name he doesn't remember grabs his hand and pushes him to hide because he stood in place long enough to almost get caught first. 

You do get caught in the first round but not before Yunho, so you count that as a win. The second round is trickier, Soyi banning some hiding spots like the natural leader she is, and so you get caught before Yunho. He does a little celebratory dance when he sees you in the yard before him. Ass. 

There's only one round left before they call everyone to clean up for lunch. 

Moving through the orphanage halls, you walk down the stairs that lead to the staff rooms before choosing one you know kids would not check if they don't caught you in plain sight: It's the one that has some panel windows on top of some lockers, to bring in some natural lighting because it was used as a classroom before.

Now, only boxes and dust live down there. But if you hide in the corner, there's no way you're getting caught before Yunho. 

You checked when you were upstairs. 

You giggle to yourself as you rest your back against the corner, taking your phone and unlocking it to find something to do while you await your very predictable victory in this pointless battle you and Yunho have going on. 

Only for it to be crushed when he enters the room and closes the door behind it. See, you obviously didn't lock it because that defeats the rules of the game. 

But maybe you should've. 

“Get out.” 

He seems startled when he hears your voice, clearly not expecting another soul to be there. “You blend so well into the wall, Y/N.” 

You don't bite the bait “Yunho, you're going to get both of us caught. Get. Out.” 

“How? I literally fit in here, too.” 

He gets into your space, a petty smile on his lips until your backside is completely flat against the wall.

You let out an indignant laugh and a breath at the same time because, from where you're shoved into the corner, he looks so dumb. 

And then the sunlight shifts a little and lands on his shoulder and you get reminded: You're going to get caught and it's going to be his fault. 

You want to yell at him to get out again but then hear laughter near the panel windows, so you whisper-shout instead “Find your own hiding spot, Yunho!” 

“I got kicked out of my last one!” He whispers-shouts back. 

“Well you can't have this one either!”

“We're going to be fine, Y/N,” he tries but at your scowl he laughs again “I'm perfectly hidden here and I'm hiding you.” 

“You're not perfectly hidden, idiot! You're like…” You move your hands, trying to replicate the broadness of his shoulders “You're huge.” 

“Yeah?” He seems pleased by your words and your eyes rolls on their own accord “I've been hitting the gym, so I'm glad it's showi—” 

“I don't care, get out!” 

You hear a scream and then laughter that follows it outside of the windows and your wide eyes peek around a little behind Yunho’s form to see what's going on. 

There, rolling on the grass and laughing hard, are Hyunjoon and Soyi. You see when she pushes him further into the ground and away from her, smiling like she usually does. She did seem a little sad today and you wondered why without intruding.

Learning about the fight made things click in your head and so now you're smiling wide because they potentially made up. 

The sound of someone gulping is what brings you back to reality and you crane your head up to catch Yunho staring at you with parted lips and soft eyes. Somewhere in the process of looking out of the panels, you ended up leaning into him and bracing yourself with your hand on his arm. 

You quickly keep your hands to yourself again, pushing your body into the corner one more time. 

“Sorry,” you say right away “I was just… They like each other and they were fighting today so I'm glad they, um…” You trail off. 

“Are not fighting anymore?” Yunho says for you and you're nodding frantically before you can help it “You seem better today.”

“Oh,” that catches you off guard and he notices, “It's never… It's never really as bad as what you saw a few days ago. You don't have to ask me about it.” 

“I didn't mean to… I was pointing it out to say that you seem different here.” 

“Different how?” 

“Relaxed,” he says right away with a shrug. “Less… Hostile.” 

You get what he's trying to imply. 

“I can't really be a stuck up bitch when I'm surrounded by children, Yunho.” 

“Never said you were one.”

Your eyes squint “But you were thinking it.” 

He doesn't back down at your accusation “I swear I wasn't. You could see it, too, if you stopped being so… defensive.” 

“I'm trying,” you kind of speak over him as he is finishing his sentence, your arms crossing in, well, defense “but your fugly jeans are provoking me.” 

This time around, he's the one that doesn't bite the bait. He smiles, leaning into your space with purpose this time; not because the corner you're both hiding in is small, not because he forgets who you both are. You can see it in his eyes that he means to do it. It's scary.

It's really not scary at all and it brings thoughts to your head that you need to put away immediately. 

You pretend it's bothering you, creasing your brows in order to bring to your expression the usual disgust you feel for him. 

“You like my outfit, I saw you checking me out earlier.” He murmurs like it's the most obvious thing ever. You, on the other hand, think you did a great job in concealing your staring for the day.

“I was judging you, not checking you out. You look like a hippie.”

He smiles but doesn't lean back at all “I have something to do tonight.” 

“So I heard,” and now you look over his outfit on purpose, as well “This fit is definitely a choice.” 

The usual spark that the arguments you two are used to have is there, but the actual nastiness and loathing of it all is mostly gone. Now, there's this weird pull that nudges you forward, your jaw set softly as you wait for his response. 

“It's a rock concert, I have to look the part.” 

You laugh and then nod “And so you dressed up as a greaser. Got it.” 

“So I look like John Travolta in Grease?” 

“More like Barry Pearl.” 

He scoffs “Who even is that?” 

“Exactly.” 

Your smile is nothing but pure bliss at the way you seem to get under his skin with that one. The anger crosses his expression, his eyes widen a little before roaming your face and you wait for his comeback. 

And wait. 

And wait. 

But it never comes. Instead, he leans in a fraction more than what your sanity can handle and keeps his voice low when he changes the subject.

“I had the opportunity to speak to Jiwoo earlier…” He starts and you nod, expectant and a little distracted by the smell of his cologne. “She told me everything you've been doing for this place. I had to ask her because you didn't tell me.” 

“You didn't ask.” 

“Would you have told me if I did?” 

It takes a second and a tiny smile, but you shake your head and he clicks his tongue. 

“See?” 

“I wasn't expecting you to show up in the first place,” you murmur back in your defense, sincerely, “and I'm not used to people seeing this part of my life.” 

Laughter and hurried steps outside remind you that you're in the middle of a game, in the middle of a dare with Yunho, too. But it doesn't seem to matter anymore. 

This is a weird way of having a genuine conversation, an odd place to have it in as well but there's nothing conventional about your relationship with Yunho. 

In a way, it's kind of fitting for you two. 

“Well, you got great reviews.” 

“Do I?” 

“Mhm, Jiwoo said she was about to be sent away when you stepped in,” he starts to recall, nodding to himself “Soyi also said she met you when she was little and that you were there when Hyunjoon and his brother got here for the first time,” this time, you nod and a tiny smile tugs at your lips at the memory “And I saw the way you were looking at the kids earlier, how you spoke to them… That's why I told you that you seem different here.” 

It's your turn to gulp and blink a few times, trying to measure your words. You know that you and him came to an agreement the other night, but it's still a little hard to be fully honest with someone you've tried to be so superficial and distant for a very long time. 

“I'm happy here,” you whisper back, taking in a breath. “I'm happy when I'm helping, it makes me feel…” You trail off, failing to find the right words. 

“Purposeful?” Yunho offers and your heart beats loudly at that, your stomach sinks at how accurate that is and he can see it in your expression, because he takes in a breath himself and closes his eyes for a millisecond “I understand.” 

You want to ask him how he understands it. Is it simply because it's something easy to grasp? Is it because he relates in some way? The breach in between you became a simple line the night of the gala and that line blurs the longer you stay amicable with him. 

It's dangerous because you can already picture him going away when this whole charade ends. 

You don't want to get used to the feeling of him making your heart beat this way. 

And hopefully you can forget all about it with the usual meal related anxiety you feel but even that is dull. It's not as bad here and Yunho knows so it's not going to be as bad with him either. Fucking great. 

If you someone would just interrupt yo— 

There's a knocking, persistent and that allows you to step away from him finally and glance at the panel windows one more time. 

Soyi and Hyunjoon are lying on their stomach, smiling knowingly like they understand what is going on in your head. Yunho steps out and they pretend to be surprised but you can tell they were expecting to see him here. 

“The game finished like five minutes ago.” Hyunjoon says and it's muffled by the glass but you can make it out just fine. 

Soyi nods and joins in, adding something as she stands up “Yeah, it's lunch time and if you don't hurry I'm stealing your food!”

At that, Yunho seems to react like he's a child himself “Don't even think about it!” He yells back, heading for the door and leaving you there with an erratic heartbeat and questions. 

Thirty seconds pass before you hear him again, his laugh this time and you close your eyes because the curve of your lips needs to go away before you step out there as well. 

Three more hours pass and at some point you don't see Yunho at all, letting him do his thing. 

Turns out, he's actually very good with kids. Considering he was a weird kid himself, you don't even find it weird that he's sitting on the grass with a worm in his hand and kids circling him like he's giving a masterclass. 

Kind of like they were circling you fifteen minutes ago, when you gave them a little painting advice. You started on a small canvas and your paint strokes look tired, probably because you feel that way, but you use it to pass the time even if their interest is now elsewhere. 

They have art classes here, you insisted on including them in their pensum as something mandatory, like science and maths. 

They enjoy it. A few of them want to pursue art in the future and that makes you really happy, even if you probably won't be around to see it or if they change their opinions along the way because, as dumb as it sounds, you were never encouraged by anyone to pursue what you liked. 

Maybe, sometimes that's enough. Planting the seed to wait and see if it grows into something fructiferous in the future can be what some of these kids need. 

Aside from resources and opportunities, of course. 

There's less activity in the room you're in and you're sure it's because the kids are tired. They're taking naps in their rooms, they're washing up for the night and you're dreading leaving this place. Your shirt it's dirty, there's paint on your arms and dirt under your nails and you don't want to catch the disgusted look your mother is going to give you when you get home. 

You fuck up the painting a little bit. Lost in thought, you barely notice when Yunho makes his way inside from the garden, a little girl secured around his neck like he's her father or something. You barely spare him a glance, but smile at her when he sits down besides you and she opens her arms and clings to you instead. 

Leaving the brush and canvas forgotten on the table, you make space for the seven year old in your lap “Hi, gorgeous.” you smile at her and her sleepy eyes “Did you have fun today, Jaemi?” And at her name, she punches you softly in the arm with her little fist. 

You're afraid she's too tired to commit to the bit. 

“Jaemi,” Yunho nods beside you and you look at him, “she didn't want to tell me her name.” 

“Then that's totally not her name,” you correct yourself and Jaemi smiles, sticking her tongue out to Yunho afterwards “Did you have fun?” You insist. 

“Yes, he was teaching us something about…” she pouts in concentration, trying to remember “Crickets?” she offers with her little lisp, turning to Yunho to confirm her words. 

“Cicadas.” 

“Yeah, that.” She turns to you, nodding “He said that they sing when it's about to rain and that made me happy but then he said that they also sing when they're about to die and that made me sad.” 

Looking at Yunho, you let him know with your expression that that's not something kids need to know. He just shrugs, smile growing when he sees how Jaemi hides on your neck, sleepy and comfortable. 

“And I told him what you told me about the worms,” she murmurs there and you pat her back, softly, but trying to tell her to stop talking. There's an embarrassed glow on your cheeks at what she says next “and he told me that he was the one who taught you that.” 

Eyes wide, you huff out a laugh and then clear your throat, but Jaemi speaks through her pout before you defend yourself “Is he your boyfriend?” 

“Oh,” her question is not weird but you've been avoiding answering it all day. Right now, there's not really a way you can evade it, so you just focus on your painting and nod “He is.” 

“He's smart,” she mumbles and when your eyes land on Yunho again, his cheek is pressed to his forearm that is pressed against the table. He's looking at you both with stars in his eyes and you want to kick him under the table “Like you. I want my future mom and dad to be like you.” 

Yunho pouts and you gulp, defensiveness abandoning your body and emotions swirling inside at the sweet, hopeful color of Jaemi’s voice. 

“People here are going to make sure of that, Jaemi,” you assure her in a whisper and by the time you rock her softly in your arms, you can tell she's asleep in them “I'll make sure you get the best mom and dad in the world, hm?” 

You don't know if you can keep your promise. If there's enough will for you to do it, if it's up to you to decide it. But you don't get to dwell on it for long. 

“Is she out?” Jiwoo asks and you nod, sliding back with your chair a little so that she can take Jaemi in her arms instead “I'll get her to the nap room. Sorry about that.” 

“It's okay.” You smile at her and she puts a comforting hand on your arm, shaking you a little on your seat before heading for the nap room. 

You don't dare to look at Yunho after that. Yeah, he saw your mother belittling you and, yeah, he made you food and wiped away your tears after having a panic attack… But that might've been the most vulnerable Yunho has ever seen you. Maybe. It felt like it, anyway. 

Returning to your painting, you forget what the orange blob in the corner of the canvas is supposed to be. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yunho staring at you still, unmoving from his position against the table. 

“How dare you steal my earth friends facts, Kim Y/N.” 

“You mean the facts about worms everyone learns in kindergarten, Yunho?” You scoff “Didn't know you trademarked them.” 

“You enjoy painting.” He says, a fact not a question, ignoring your jab at him and it's starting to get a little annoying how he changes topics so fast. 

“I'm not very good at it.” 

He gets up, scoots his chair closer to yours and you catch as his eyes move up and down your stupid painting “I don't agree.” 

“I didn't ask,” huffing, you squint your eyes at him and at your tone he rolls his eyes “Don't you have a concert to get to?” 

“Yeah, you should go with me.” 

That's hilarious. 

“I'm afraid I'm a little underdressed,” you tell him and you think he wants to laugh,  but presses his lips together and pretends to be offended at your words instead. You lean into the table, your eyes following his mouth as he stops pursing his lips, a tiny smile tugging on yours. “And I don't feel like pretending to be your girlfriend today anymore.” You whisper to only him. 

“You won't have to,” he whispers back, leaning in as well, “they know.” 

“What? You told them?” 

“They kind of figured it out.” 

“Hm, because you have no bitc—” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts you, annoyed and you laugh, leaning back in your chair “Come with me. I saw your car outside,” he smiles and bats his eyelashes at you “I don't want my mother to know where I'm going, so you can drive me.” 

“Ah, that's why you want me to go.” 

“I also want to hang out with you,” his hand on your arm doesn't startle you but it does send sparks down your spine, his words causing your chest to go warm and your walls to go down “I thought we were doing that today and then I got kidnapped by eight year olds.” 

There's this image of Yunho that flashes through your head, the one of him running around the yard with people so dear to your heart that it makes the poor organ beat erratically for the second time today. 

Deflect. 

“And you managed to keep your ugly outfit clean. I'm impressed.” 

He lets out a tired breath. 

Deflect. Ignore. Don't let it fool you, Y/N, he's not staying this cordial forever. 

However, you think that as a thank you you can give in a little. Just a tiny bit. Just for tonight. 

“Do they have parking?” 

Yunho smiles wide. 

You would never admit you actually want to hang out with him, too, so instead you just say: 

“I'm driving you and then I'm staying for an hour,” he claps and gets up suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your chair as well “And if I don't like it there, I'm leaving.” 

He looks like he wants to say something but, instead, he just shakes your twined hands with excitement before letting go at the realization of what he's doing. 

“You might want to go to the bathroom first.” 

“Why? Where is the concert?” 

He says nothing. 

“Jeong Yunho… Where are we going?” 

They do not have parking. Not near the musty bar you're currently trying to make your way into, anyway. 

Yunho shows something on his phone to the bouncer at the entrance and then turns to you “My girlfriend,” he says, grabbing your hand again and opening his eyes at you as a signal to go along with his lie “She's also invited, obviously.” 

So long for not pretending to be together, huh?

You nod and you kind wish you didn't because it leads you to a small space with a crowd that's bigger than what it can host. There's heavy drums and amazing vocals coming out of the speakers and you actually recognize the guitarist of the band that's playing. You don't know his name, but you definitely saw him in pictures with Yunho before. 

Grabbing Yunho’s arm when he lets go of your hand, it grants you the brief grace of his stare. 

“I'm sorry about that,” he says and then his eyes are on the stage again, smiling at the band. His height works wonders because you can tell he's actually able to see them fully and the next second you're being pulled across the crowd and up some stairs “They didn't expect me to come here with anyone tonight… And don't say it's because I have no game, Y/N, or I swear—”

“You made it!” 

When you let go of Yunho’s arm and stand shyly behind him as they let the both of you into the very humble vip area of this bar, it's like the pictures you've been staring at for months come to life. You don't know names (only Park Seonghwa’s, who's glued to the balcony’s rail, jamming along to the music) but you do know their faces. 

This girl that greeted Yunho with a hug just now it's in almost every picture, smiling just like that. And when she turns at you, that smile disappears and it's replaced with one that's not genuine at all. 

Great. 

“Oh, hi to you too,” she says and her eyes alternate between you and Yunho “I didn't know you were bringing your fake girlfriend tonight.” 

You don't know why, but the way she says it ticks you a little bit. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Yunho’s arm is around your shoulders now and you have to fight the urge to shove him away, like a second instinct “This is Y/N, Y/N this is Gyuri.” 

“It's nice to meet you,” returning her energy, you smile coldly at her too, “I've heard nothing about you.” 

Yunho's hip connects with yours in a silent warning. 

But instead of the usual hypocrisy you're met inside the crowd you move in, you're greeted with something genuine: At your response, Gyuri looks you up and down for what feels like a minute and a half and then that fake smile turns into a genuine one. 

“Okay, I get you,” she nods, laughing to herself when she turns to Yunho. You do too and the color has been drained from his face, at least a little bit “I'm glad you're here. I guess it is meet my girlfriend night,” her head cocks to the side, to where Seonghwa stands and you're a little relieved you don't have to ask what she's talking about when, besides him, you see the mechanic you didn't get to meet earlier this week. She turns to you again “Do you want a drink?” 

“Oh, I'm driving, um…” You look at Yunho “I don't know if you—” 

“No, let's not drink tonight, though if you want to we can call—” 

“No, that's not necessary, I don't feel like—” He interrupts with a nod. 

“Gotcha.” 

The nervousness is palpable and, although you didn't really feel anything the hour and a half it took you two to get to the bar (Yunho didn't really let you, bickering with you about your driving or the decor of the car or the tinted windows or whatever he could think of to annoy you), but now you you notice it. 

The way Yunho's fingers tap on your arm, his around your shoulders still. The way he doesn't really know what to say when you both turn to Gyuri after speaking over each other like that and the way you can't bring yourself to be hostile to him in front of his friends. 

It's a little pathetic. You think Gyuri thinks so too, and the long-haired guy next to her as well because they're staring at you stoically, unmoving. 

“So I'm taking that as a no but I need a drink now. If y'all excuse me…” 

“H-hi, Woo.” 

“I thought we got rid of this when San and Babe got together,” he sighs as Gyuri turns around and leaves for a table, offering you his hand with a wink. You can tell he's a little drunk but the way he shakes your hand brings out a genuine giggle out of you “I’m Wooyoung, Yunho’s best friend. I bet he already told you that, though.” 

No, you want to tell him, you and him haven't been able to talk like that yet. Even after knowing him for over ten years and spending holidays together, you don't know his best friend's name at all. 

And you start to nod just to skip explaining that but Yunho speaks and ruins your plans.

“Mingi is going to kill you if he hears you say that.” 

“Say what?” A tall man stands next to Yunho and only when he hugs his shoulders is that Yunho lets go of you “Are you talking shit about me, Woo?” 

Wooyoung genuinely sulks“I wouldn't dare, Mingi.” 

“You must be Y/N,” Mingi ignores him and you want to laugh at the expression he makes in return, but you busy yourself taking the hand that Mingi's offering “I've heard so much about you in the last forty eight hours.” 

“All terrible things, I'm hoping.” 

“Well—” 

“Okay, okay,” Yunho pushes him away and takes your arm again, giving his actual best friend a look “Let me introduce you to everyone else before Wooyoung makes a scene for the night.” 

Over your laugh, you hear a faint gasp and a I don't ever make scenes! shouted on Wooyoung’s side of the room. 

You were never shy but you fall a little quiet in the middle of these strangers because the one thing you realized right away is that there's no actual need to pretend here, in the dim light and with people who don't give a fuck if your posture isn't perfect or that you're not making small talk. 

It's a little freeing. 

That weight falls off your shoulders and you kind of get why Yunho is a little clueless about how things work in your world after talking to San and Mingi’s girlfriends for a little. 

It truly takes everything in you to keep everything you share about yourself in shallow waters. 

You tell them things they might've already known, things that can be found online about you. You tell them that you met Yunho when you were little, you tell them about your job when the girl that Park Seognhwa chose above going to the gala with you joins and then you direct the conversation to her instead of you. 

They tell you about Yunho’s college life, the parties and the embarrassing moments that you've missed all while he talks with his friends about something, all against the vip balcony railing while they watch the band perform. Gyuri is there too, arm to arm with Wooyoung and they tell you they used to be together. 

It shows, especially when you get up to join Yunho and watch the performance and she snuggles a bit closer to Wooyoung to make space for you. 

Even if there's plenty of space already. 

He looks at you when you bump into him, smiling and leaning into your space a bit to talk over the music “There you are. I thought I lost you to girl talk!” 

You roll your eyes.

“Your friend's are nice.” 

“Normal people usually are, Y/N.” 

Scoffing, you focus on the main vocal of the band. The only girl up on the stage, too and you convince yourself that's more interesting than the way Yunho seems to sparkle when he's with his people “Well, that explains why you're everything but nice.” 

He laughs “I am nice, just not to you.” 

“No, yeah, trust me, I know.” 

“You seem quiet around them,” he turns to look at the girls for a brief moment “And you're usually, obnoxiously loud. Everything alright?” 

You know he's asking about your panic attacks. Yes, you feel fine. You took your pills with your lunch and, considering the small space you're at gives you brief anxiety, mixed with the general nervousness of being with people you don't know, it could be worse. 

But, like you said, his friends are nice. 

You don't exactly fit in this group, but they make you believe you're a part of them at least for a little while and you know your friends, or the people you usually hang out with when you go out, wouldn't give a stranger the chance if presented with it. 

“I'm fine, I'm just… Intimidated.” 

“You just said they are nice, Y/N.” 

“And they're all very good looking, which is unfair and nerve wracking,” you add with a scoff and hear him giggle before you turn to him again. “You said you wanted to hang out with me but it's been forty minutes and you barely said anything,” you give him a look, “so you just wanted the ride, hm? Asshole.” 

“Needy,” he returns, pushing you with his arm, “I also wanted you to meet them. They're a huge part of who I am and I know it’s not this way for everybody, but I do believe you can gather who someone is if you meet the people they surround themselves with.” 

What does that say about me, is what you want to tell him and then his words from a second ago cross your mind. 

It's not this way for everybody. 

He knows and there's something so deeply fucked up about his understanding of you because is not supposed to be this way. You hate Yunho, he hates you and keeping each other at arm's length has always been the norm. 

It baffles you how quickly he can leave his preconceptions of you behind and open the door to his comfy bubble, invite you in and make you feel welcomed where you otherwise don't belong. 

He understands. It makes you smile and he smiles back, close to you both physically and emotionally, and so you're sure you don't need to add anything to this moment you two are having. 

Instead, you shake your head “I don't know why they hang out with you, then,” you turn to the stage one more time and there’s some tension between the band all of the sudden. You don't ask, Yunho is not paying attention to them right now anyway “I still think you wanted the free ride. Send me the gas money when you get home.” 

“When you take me home.” 

“No, you're walking back,” your fingers take a hold of his forearm, pinching it and gaining an exaggerated reaction to the mild pain it causes back from him “asshole.” 

“And get him again for me!” Wooyoung shouts to your left and you both turn to see almost everyone staring at you. 

It's almost enough to make your cheeks burn. Almost. 

When it's almost time for you to go home (the hour you said you were staying turned to two hours) and the band gets down the stage, Seonghwa sits beside you. 

“Did you paint over it?” Is the first thing you ask him and he frowns before understanding. 

“The tree in your brother's office? Nah. He said we should keep it.” 

Your brother has no taste. 

“It's a horrendous tree, Mr Park,” you insist, shaking your head when he makes a noise to disagree. “Please be sure to take it down at some point, behind his back if it's necessary.” 

“Miss Kim,” he starts and you realize whatever he's about to say, it's not about that goddamned tree, “when you asked me to go to a party with you, was it the gala you and Yunho went to?” 

He's direct and blunt and you are grateful that he addresses the topic straight ahead instead of walking around it like the girls did. 

You nod “Yes, I wanted to say I had someone to go with so they wouldn't force Yunho and I to…” 

“I understand.” 

“I'm glad you said no, though. She likes you a lot,” you point to his date, she's jamming along to a rock song you don't recognize in the slightest with Hongjoong, who just joined the group in the vip area with the rest of the band. The vocalist it's missing, however and you wonder where she went, “And you like her too, so that's good. I'm glad.” 

“And you don't like Yunho?” 

The chuckle that bubbles out of you comes out a little more nervous than what you intended “He's, um… An old friend.” 

“He told us you were trying to be friends,” he says and you blink, wondering what else Yunho told them, “but that's not what I'm asking.” 

“I know what you're asking, I know what some of you think it's going to happen,” your eyes land on Yunho, his arm around Hongjoong and they're both laughing at something Mingi said. There's that pull again, your chest feels heavy with something you've never felt before “but it is not going to happen.” 

Yunho catches your eye and smiles, says something to his friends and then starts making his way up to you two. 

Seonghwa, instead of getting offended at your very direct refusal of his intentions, just laughs at you “Famous last words, Miss Kim.” 

“Paint over the stupid tree and I might reconsider your point, Mr Park.” 

He opens his mouth to say something else but then Yunho interrupts, a hand on your shoulder. 

He's so touchy. You never actually took into account if he enjoys physical touch or not, but his hands are always on someone.  On you, when you're close to him. 

“We're leaving.” He says and he's talking to Seonghwa, not you. 

“We all are?” 

“Nope, just us. Princess has a curfew.” 

“Aw,” you place your hand on top of his, pretending to be moved, “yes you do!” 

Harshly but also half-joking (you think) he moves his hand away and turns around “I'll be waiting for you downstairs, you witch.” 

You watch him say his goodbyes and flash you his middle finger before, effectively, going down the stairs. Laughing as you stand up, you return your eyes to Seonghwa “Stop it.” 

“I'm just saying—” 

“Shut up.” 

Seonghwa laughs again and you say goodbye to everyone, Mingi giving you a look that reads as be careful with him and you want to clarify that nothing is ever going to happen. 

But some of them think otherwise. 

When you get downstairs, the crowd overwhelms you all over again and, just when you think Yunho might've actually left you, there's a hand that closes over yours. 

The hand spins you around and Yunho comes into view with his lips curled upwards into a teasing smirk “This way, princess.” 

Suspicious (about the fact that he's navigating the crowd towards anything but the exit, not about his flirtatious ways), you tug at him to make him stop “What are you up to?” 

He ignores your question, moving fast and through a deserted hallway where music doesn’t really get through and, after that, he opens a door that leads to the back of the musty bar. 

“Are you bringing me here so I can get robbed, Yunho?” 

He huffs out a laugh, kind of offended but not really “Obviously, Y/N. It wasn’t because someone was taking pictures of us all night at all.” 

His hand is on yours still as he drags you to the streets and to where you think your car is. You’re grateful he’s holding you, your heart dropping at his words. Not because people can’t know you came to this bar, or that you’re with Yunho, but because someone recognized you and you didn’t notice.

You always notice.  

But this time, you felt so comfortable inside a bubble that isn’t yours that you allowed someone to disrespect you like this. 

Worst, disrespect someone else who’s supposed to be with you like this. 

“Are you sure it was us and the person wasn’t taking pictures of Hongjoong? He’s kind of the buzz around here, Jeong.” You try to joke to calm the beating of your heart down, swallowing hard as you get to your car. 

Your hand shakes a little as you press the buttons to unlock the doors and, by the time you get into the car you’re sweating. You feel the moisture on the back of your neck like a warning, it tells you that you need to calm down before actually getting on the street but Yunho’s words don’t help at all. 

“That's what I thought but then I realized the phone was following you.” 

“Great,” you gulp again, starting the car and turning on the ac just to have something to distract you and your hands. "You didn't have to leave with me, though. You just needed to tell me and—” 

“We’re together, aren't we? At least to them, we are, so leaving together it's the least they expect us to do.” 

Expect. You hate that he's right, that he was able to think rationally and you hate that he regards the situation you're both in with a little more maturity than a few days ago. 

This turn in his personality is overwhelming to say the least. There's only so much concealing you can do before it shows that you're starting to care about him genuinely, beyond the pr and the arranged relationship.

“Thank you.” You mutter after a few seconds of silence where he checked his phone. 

He looks up from it a few seconds, smiles at you a little and then returns his attention to the screen. It takes a few seconds of the ac blasting in your face and the sound of the keyboard of his phone to return you to the ground, panic dissipating when he looks back up again. 

“Are you sure you don't want to sneak back? I don't mean to steal you from your friends, Yunho.” 

“You are my friend, princess.” Without really wanting to, your nose scrunches at the corniness of the statement and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t make that face. Look, I was searching online for the pictures or videos they might've taken at the bar and I found this.” 

He turns his phone and although your panic went away, the feeling is replaced by a little bit of anger: It's a picture of you both, Jaemi in your arms, her face covered by your hair and shoulder. Yunho is staring at you both sweetly, like you remembered he did and you are mid sentence. 

It's not the face you're making in the picture that upsets you, it's the fact that someone took that moment and posted it online for everyone to see. 

“You don't like it.” He says and you take a swing of air before replying. 

“I do like the picture, I don't like what it means,” and he's about to ask what you mean, you see it in his eyes but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don't like that they took that moment away from me, from us.” 

You don't know why you say it like that but you do, there's this emotion laced on your voice that, a week ago, you would've fought to keep away from him. He was never supposed to see any of this. In fact, no one was supposed to see any side of you that wasn't perfectly crafted to their liking, to your mother's liking. 

Yunho getting to know you like this wasn't part of your plan. So you ignore the sting on your chest at his pained expression caused by what you say next. 

“From now on, let's not allow them to take moments away from us. Let's meet when we're scheduled to, during the week and not on weekends and—” 

“Let's go.” 

“Yeah, I'll take you home and then maybe we can tell our moth—” 

“No, no. Just… Let's go here,” he tips and taps at the screen of your car, placing an address inside the gps you're unfamiliar with, “and then we can go home.” 

Confused and in a surprising complaint mood, you start to back out of the parking spot. At the questions written all over your face, he simply places a hand on your knee and squeezes there. It does nothing to calm you down but it does distract you for a second. 

Which is bad. Cause you're driving and all, so you bat his hand away with yours and he laughs at the dead look you send his way. 

“Where are we going?” 

“I want to show you something.” 

“Jeong Yunho, are you sneaking me into your dorm room?” 

“Shhhh.” 

A finger on your lips is the only thing you get as a response before he pokes his head out, into the badly lit hallway of what you can only presume is his dorm room. 

His digit is replaced by your hand because you're trying very hard no to burst out laughing at his very specific change of placement. He sprints to the wall in front of you and moves his hand, urging you to follow his footsteps. 

You do, only much slower than what he intended, you guess, because as soon as you're on his reach he grabs your arm and collides his body with yours. His lips near your cheek when he looks down, his words a whisper. 

“The cameras are old and they don't catch fast movements that well, so we have to run.” 

It takes five good seconds to try and contain your laugh again before replying: “Okay… Mister Bond.” 

His face falls. “Y/N, I can get in serious trouble for bringing you here.” He deadpans and you nod, fast and unserious. 

“Yeah, no, I can totally see that.” 

“I hate you.” 

You smile all the way up to his room, his anxious behavior a little strange because, well, you see a girl casually exiting a room on the base floor as you go upstairs. She's flushed and giggling as she types on her phone, so you don't understand what big deal is. 

Especially when Yunho all but shoves you into a room you can only assume is his, your kitty heels almost making you trip with the shoe rack by the entrance. 

“You're the most dramatic person I have ever met, Jeong.” 

“Hall monitors are a thing here, Y/N and I don't want to get banned from the team!” 

“What team?” 

Now that you think about it, this does seem like one of the dorms reserved for sports teams in the school you graduated from. This one is smaller, definitely not as luxurious and allegedly has a faulty security system but that's besides the point: there's banners and posters on the walls all the way from the entrance to this room that kind of smells like soju and beer. 

“The dance team!” He says as you step further into the room. 

“I didn't know you dance.” 

There's enough space for two beds, two desks that are pressed together on one corner of the room, in front of one of the beds, giving the illusion of being one cohesive piece of furniture when it's not. In front of the other bed there's a corner mirror and a bedside table with old energy drink cans and one unopened, undrinked water bottle. 

“I didn't know you painted until recently.” 

“I don't,” you argue, throwing your purse on one of the beds before Yunho takes it and places it into the other one. You assume that's his. "You are allowed to have a dorm here for shaking your little ass on stage a few times, Jeong?” 

Your teasing makes him frown but you can only smile at the reaction, arms crossed as you take one more look around the room. 

“I do more than shaking my great ass on stage, princess. Besides, this makes me somewhat very independent from my parents,” he shrugs “And I'm close to the campus. It's a win, win situation for me.”

“Yeah, I'll give you that.” And it's true: you can't really argue against being away from your parents. He's lucky he's able to do it, least to some degree. “You still have to go to your house on weekends, no?” 

“Yeah,” he sighs and when you return your eyes to him, he's making his bed. He looks a little ashamed of the state he left the room in when he catches you staring. “But I think I can allow myself to stay here on weekends now, too, considering they forced me into our little… Arrangement.” 

“Yeah, because your mother is all but allowing you to do things this week. Really, Yunho, don't test the woman’s patience.” 

He frowns at you “What side are you on?” 

“The side where we get scolded the least until this whole thing is over, Yunho!” 

“Look, I understand that you care deeply for your parents approval and we've gone through this already this week but—” 

“But what?” 

You hope the look you send him makes him choose his words very carefully. You don't think it gets the message across when he takes a breath and shrugs. 

“But at some point you're going to have to let go of that, Y/N, you're clearly not happy.” 

“Stop caring so much about my happiness, Yunho.” 

“We're friends, that's what a friend is supposed to—” 

“Oh, stop that.” 

He looks taken aback by your interruption and your tone, but the whole leaving the bar because someone was taking pictures of you knocked some sense of reality into you and now you're upset. 

You don't want to scream, you don't want to fight with him because today has been so good. Good to you, good to him, good to people who are dear to you and to him, but it's so hard. 

It's hard when he understands some of it but not the full picture and it's hard when your walls are down, your feelings are on your sleeve and your words spill out of your mouth without a second thought. 

“We're not friends, Yunho. We've never been friends, we were not brought together to be just friends and you may think otherwise because you have the opportunity to live like this,” you point to his bed, “and go to bars and concerts and make noise within the crowds because you're tall and attractive, not because of your last name but I am never going to have that.” 

Feet moving to their own accord, you cross the space as you speak, until you have to look up at him and that pained expression you saw before heading towards his dorm is back, that pained expression he gave you back at the gala when he found you in that room, that pained expression he had when he fought with his mom in front of you. 

You hate it. Not because he might be in some sort of pain, but because it makes you feel bad that you are the one that's causing it. 

“I am never going to have this, Yunho. So yeah, I'm unhappy and bitter and sad and I've developed a whole panic disorder because of it but that's just what—” 

“God, you're impossible.” 

What? 

“W-what?” 

“‘That's just what it's meant to happen’. Is that what you were going to say? ‘That's just the way things are’,” he mocks and that hurts you but he doesn't back down even at the way you physically recoil at his words. 

He moves to the floor, knees hitting hard as he drops and looks for something under his bed. 

You don't need to be here. But before you announce that you're leaving, he does something that ignites your curiosity: he pulls out a box. 

A box with the name of the highschool you attended together in it. You have that box, or at least you think you do, somewhere in the storage of your house where no one can find it because, like almost everything in your life, there's no happy memories in it.

You're not sure if there's happy memories for Yunho, but the way he harshly opens it and rumages inside to find something specific tells you otherwise. 

“The other day, after seeing the canvases in your room, I tried to remember if you liked painting,” he starts and gets up, a mid-sized blue photo album on his hand with the name of the school and your classes slogan engraved in gold on the side, “I tried to remember things I'm supposed to know about you, because we grew up together, Y/N.” 

His reminder makes you gulp. 

“I've tried to distance myself from you as much as I can because I never thought that we would need to get along and— No, no, I never thought I would want to get along with you but now I do and so I went home and I stole this from my mother's office.” 

He opens the album and, at first, you only see pictures of him. Him at his graduation day, him at that one soccer event where he almost broke his nose, him at the school yard with guys from your class you barely remember and then he gets to a specific part of the album. Instead of a picture, there's a card with beautiful handwriting that reads your name instead. 

“See, I always hated that my mother seemed to adore you. She doesn't have any daughters, so I thought it was a way of living that through you and that your mother was a little weird for allowing it to happen, but I was wrong,” he hands you the album and you scowl a little at the pictures you see of yourself, pictures that you've never seen before tonight, “And so, when she asked me to take pictures of you at school events she couldn't attend or your parents couldn't attend, I did it because of that. But I realized recently that she never wanted this for herself.” 

There's a picture of you at a piano recital where you came in third because you sucked at it. There's a picture of you on stage, on school assembly day, accepting a medal for your academic excellency. There's a picture of you next to the school’s art gallery, where you were able to display the canvases you painted throughout your senior year, at your teacher’s insistent request. There's a picture of you in the art gallery, someone you don't recognize or don't really remember is talking to you, their hands pointing at an abstract piece you did. 

It's the only picture where you're genuinely smiling. 

You trace the picture caged with the protective film of the album with the pad of your finger, softly, over that smile and wait for it to disappear but it doesn't. 

You look at Yunho, eyes almost teary with confusion and sentiment. 

“She never wanted this for herself because, although she loves you, she doesn't care about any of this when you're already the perfect match for me in her eyes” he smiles a little, his finger joining yours on the page. “She doesn't care if you got third or first place here, she doesn't give a fuck about your academic achievements and she definitely doesn't give a shit if you're an artist or not,” his finger connects with yours, over your immortalized smile on the picture “but I do.” 

Your head starts to shake, your mind starts to reject his words right away. He cares? About you? No, no. It can be, he— 

He's nodding, stepping close and letting his eyes move away from you just a millisecond so he can stare at the picture “If it makes you this happy, I do. And I did, I don't… I don't remember exactly everything I thought about you as I took these pictures, Y/N, I was probably very annoyed,” he laughs a little and you do too, softly, barely, “but I probably cared back then too, I just… Well, what I'm trying to say is that you can be happy, you can have this and—” 

You don't know what does it. Is it his speech? This whole I was supposed to hate you but I don't think I ever did feeling that washes over you, like some sort of light in the midst of a very long period of darkness? Is it the lingering curve of his lips as he looks at your face in that picture and then back at you with stars in his eyes? Is it the way his finger brushes against yours shyly, like he intended to do it but he's not so sure how you would react to it? 

Is it the way he looked at you this afternoon, while Jaemi was speaking nonsense into your hair? Is it the fact that, at some point during the drive, you looked over and saw him smiling at his phone, at the picture that stole your moment with him this afternoon? 

What exactly prompts you to shut the photo album, let it fall to the floor and close the distance between your lips is beyond you but, if you're being honest with yourself, it doesn't really matter. 

Kissing Yunho feels like defiance, like rebellion against yourself and your principles and your values. It makes your heartbeat happily against your ribcage and that's, maybe, what makes you pull away from the close-lipped encounter. 

He just told you that you can be happy, but your mind can't just accept it so easily. 

Also, he didn't exactly kiss you back. 

His lips are parted when you look at him again, his pupils going all over your face like trying to get ahold of what the fuck just happened. 

This is so embarrassing. 

“I shouldn't have done that,” you start, in a whisper, tiptoes going down until you're back from the clouds on the ground. “I'm so, so sorry. I'll leav—” 

Briefly, you wonder what makes Yunho grab the side of your face and kiss you back, this time with a foreign emotion pouring into the kiss that you, somehow, feel equipped to return as your lips move in tandem with his. 

You wonder if what makes his free hand move to your waist and press you flush against him is, in any way, motivated by some sort of pity. 

His tongue brushing softly against yours for the first time makes your insecurity go away. It makes everything else go away, including that alarm inside of your head that tells you that you're making a mistake. 

It’s blasting red, dangerous and irrevocable red, but you think you confuse the color of it with the blush on Yunho’s cheek when you push a little onto him and he falls to the bed. You confuse the sound with the sigh that he lets out when he pulls you to him and your first instinct is to sit on his lap, leg on each side of him, hand fisting his shirt as you capture his lips again. 

His warmth engulfs you when his arms go around you, press you into him again and settle you further into his lap so you’re not awkwardly hovering over it anymore. There’s this need that takes over you, struggling to come up to the surface. You think he feels it too and, when your hips move out of pure want, he opens his legs a little more. 

Adrenaline rushing through you, making you confuse the sensation for pure euphoria, it takes two more thrusts into the material of his jeans for you to come to your senses. 

What the hell are you doing? 

Your heart races, for a different reason now. 

What the hell do you think you’re doing? 

Panic rising, you push Yunho’s shoulder with your hands, pulling you both away from the kiss completely. He has a pout on his lips, swollen from your kisses and flushed pink. They look very inviting, and although there’s a part of you that wants to give in, there’s the other side of you, the louder side, that’s telling you to think clearly. 

Giving into Yunho, is giving into your mother’s wishes fully. Giving into Yunho means she won. 

And Yunho thinks you are able to be happy one day, the words you cut off still ringing in your mind and they cover your fears with hope you never felt before, hope that you didn’t think you deserved to feel in the first place. His kisses had that taste, too. 

But you don’t think you can let your mother win.  

“Dinner.” You manage to say, untangling his hands off your waist, using them to help you up and off his lap.  

“W-what?” 

“It’s almost nine, I have to go to dinner with my brother.” You fix your shirt, tuck your hair behind your ear and bend over him to grab your purse before clearing your throat, “I know the way out.” 

“Y/N, don’t—” 

“I’ll see you next thursday.” 

When you sprint out of the room and close the door behind you, you already want to go back in. 

But running is sensible, it’s what you’re supposed to do. 

It doesn’t matter that hot, angry tears are wetting your cheeks. 

It’s what’s best for everyone, including him.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[kpop-stories-21]

Day 1: Engineering Fate

Group: ATEEZ

Pairing: Yunho x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Tropes, & AUs: Non-Idol AU, Modern Fantasy AU, Magic AU, Spooky Themes, Childhood friends to lovers, Smut, Fluff

Content & Trigger Warnings: Human!Reader, Human!Yunho, spooky content, magic, halloween celebration, haunted house, one short horror scene in the haunted house but it's over pretty quick, unprotected sex(wrap that shit up kids), foreplay, fingering, teasing, size kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms

Summary: You're not even in town yet and already strange things are happening. Luckily, you encounter a handsome mechanic who is willing to get your car (and maybe your insides) in shape.

General tags: @kpop---scenarios @jeonrose @galaxystardragoness @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @biaswreckingfics @anyamaris @trashlord-007 @liliesofdreamsskz @okiedokrie-main @naturalogre @thelargefrye @yoonguurt @bxffietheblxxdy @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @kwanisms ATEEZ tags: @deltamoon666 @lovelyhange @uraharasfavoriteexperiment

If you want to be added to my taglist, click here

Network pings: @cultofdionysusnet || @sandsofire || @wonderlandnet

MDNI banner, divider, and support banner courtesy of @cafekitsune

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

«-Yesterday | Day 2-»

You'd moved to the city to attend uni, but you made sure to come home every year for the week-long Halloween Festival. By now your professors and friends were used to you disappearing around the spooky season, and there were never any objections to you attending lectures remotely so long as you continued to work on assignments and homework.

For as long as you could remember, Halloween had always been your favourite holiday. So living in a quaint town well-known for being "modernly medieval" and for the Halloween Festival held there every year was like a dream come true. If you didn't have a wish to pursue further education on your path to becoming a lawyer, you might've stayed there your whole life.

This year, however, was off to quite a different start. As you pulled your sputtering blue Mustang convertible onto the gravelly shoulder of the road, you wondered how the hell you would ever make it into town. It was the first day of the Festival and there wasn't much traffic. Most people came early so they could enjoy the entirety of the week without the energy lag from travelling.

As you were pondering your options, the sound of a car engine coming towards you grabbed your attention. Praying the driver would be kind and not an asshole, you stepped out of your car, beginning to wave as soon as the black Camaro came into sight. To your great relief, the driver pulled over when they saw your frantic gestures.

The door opened and a tall raven-haired male unfolded long limbs as he slid out. He was absolutely gorgeous, his smile wide and infectious as he loped over to you with something akin to excitement in his steps. He made you think of a giant puppy as you watched him approach.

"Car trouble?" He asked, voice husky.

You nodded. "I felt a bump like I drove over something about a quarter mile back, but there wasn't an animal or anything in the road so I just assumed I rolled over some object that flew out of another car and went on. Now I'm worried that whatever it was may have hit something underneath."

The man's smile widened. "Well you're in luck! I happen to work part-time as a mechanic and I brought my tools with me, so I'll just pop under there and see if I can figure out what's wrong."

Relief flooded through you and you were finally able to return his smile.

"Name's Jeong Yunho, by the way."

"I'm Kim Y/N. Nice to meet you Yunho. I really appreciate this."

Yunho waved a hand dismissively as he retrieved his tools and lowered himself to the asphalt. "I'm just glad I could help."

As Yunho began to work you leaned against the side of your car, watching him intently.

"So what brings you down this way?" You asked curiously. "Are you here for the Festival?"

"More or less." Yunho replied, grunting. "In addition to being a mechanic, I also work part-time as an engineer. I have a standing job at the Festival every year to make sure the rides stay in top condition all week long. But even if I didn't have this job I'd still come down every year, since this is where I grew up."

Your eyes widened with excitement, finally figuring out why his name had seemed familiar. It had been ages since you last met one of your childhood friends. "You used to live here too?"

Yunho poked his head out the side of your car, recognition flooding his handsome features. "Oh my God, Y/N! I thought your name sounded familiar, but I told myself I was just imagining things." He smiled broadly. "I'd hug you, but I don't think you want grease and oil all over your nice clothes."

You giggled. "I appreciate the consideration."

It didn't take much longer for Yunho to finish by examining your car, the two of you catching up on each other's lives. Once he was out from under your car, you put the key in the ignition and turned it, letting out a joyous cry as the engine roared to life.

Yunho offered to follow you to the Festival in case anything else happened, and you accepted. Upon arriving, the two of you were about to part ways when you invited him to have dinner with you once he was done working for the day. He agreed, and you told him where you'd be staying before waving goodbye.

After Yunho left you checked into your room at the inn and then wandered around, trying out some of the rides and grabbing lunch before approaching the large tower-like building that held the magical haunted house. This was probably your favourite attraction, hands down. It was created with wild Fae magic, offering eight different levels for all who entered. The magic also remembered what levels each person had completed, so you never had to repeat the same experience twice. Really, they were more like horror-themed escape rooms than bonafide haunted house experiences. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped in.

It was pitch dark save for the outside light coming through the open door. In that light you discovered a flashlight, which you happily picked up. As soon as you did so, the door slammed shut behind you. And so it begins, you thought excitedly as you turned the flashlight on and began to examine your surroundings.

You were in some kind of basement, bits of trash all over the dirty floor along with what looked like an old briefcase. Moving forward, you picked up the briefcase and looked it over carefully. You found a numerical padlock keeping it shut and set it back where you found it, making a mental note to keep your eyes peeled for a five digit code.

Further exploration revealed a desk on which were several notes spattered with a dark substance that could have been either blood or something equally unpleasant. You examined them carefully but found no important information, just stuff pertaining to the backstory of the level.

In the back of the room was a wall covered with graffiti. That was odd, since there were no marks anywhere else in the room. Closer examination revealed a blacklight on a stand, and an idea came to mind. Dragging the blacklight around so it was aimed at the wall, you turned it on. Amongst the jumble of paint was the distinct image of five numbers, most likely the code to unlock the briefcase. Repeating the numbers under your breath, you made your way back to the briefcase and put them in. An audible click echoed through the room and you let out a quiet cry of joy.

Inside the briefcase was a large metal key and an odd triangle-shaped artefact made of some smooth material you didn’t recognize. You pocketed both objects and began searching for a door, assuming the key you’d obtained would get you out of this room. As you were walking you suddenly heard a deep, rumbling growl and froze, doing your best to remain motionless in the hope that whatever was in here with you would lose interest and return to wherever it came from.

The tapping of claws against the hard floor reached your ears, coming slowly closer. You regulated your breathing, praying that you were being quiet enough. Heavy, guttural breathing sounded from directly behind you as your heart pounded a staccato beat against your ribcage. Please, just move on. There’s nothing interesting here. Something wet nudged at the back of your knee and you bit your lip to keep from squealing at the disgusting sensation. A massive tongue licked a stripe up your leg and you dug your teeth further into your lips.

A whistle echoed from somewhere above you and the creature turned, bounding toward the sound with thudding steps that shook the ground slightly. When silence reigned once more you exhaled shakily, releasing some of the tension in your body. Locating a fairly clean rag you’d seen earlier, you wiped the creature’s saliva off your leg and resumed your search for the door to the next room. Your leisurely attitude had vanished with the reminder that this was no walk in the park, you needed to get out of here fast before the creature or its master found you.

Determined, you looked around quickly and found the door within minutes. You pulled the key from your pocket and tried it. It slid in and turned without issue, taking a little more of the tension away. You cautiously pushed the door open and stepped into a much brighter room, sunlight streaming through large glass windows. From the opulence of your surroundings you guessed you were in a mansion of some sort, probably a cover for whatever horrors went on in this place. As quietly as possible, you approached the first door you could immediately see and checked if it was locked. It wasn’t, and you tiptoed into the room.

This was a bedroom, possibly the master suite but you couldn’t be sure. On the dresser was a large, golden key with intricate carvings. You quickly pocketed it and resumed looking around.

Aside from the key, the bedroom was pretty empty, so you stepped out and approached the next door. This one was locked, so you tried the gilded key you'd found. The lock clicked and you were in.

You were in what appeared to be an office. A door at the back of the room caught your eyes and you went to open it. Revealed was a set of stairs going down, probably back to the basement. You closed the door back, no way you were going into that hellhole a second time. Searching the rest of the room proved fruitless, and you moved on.

You now stepped into the lobby, the front doors calling you enticingly. Pulling the golden key from your pocket, you eyed it curiously. To hell with it, you decided. Approaching the front doors you inserted the key and turned it. The doors swung open and bright white light filled the area, blinding you.

You stepped back out onto the grounds of the festival, lower lip extended in a slight pout. You'd hoped to see more of the level before leaving, but your curiosity got the better of you as usual.

You'd clearly been in there for a while, the sun was nearing the horizon and many of the attractions were turning their lights on.

"Having fun?" Came a voice from behind you.

Startled, you jumped and whirled around. Yunho stood there, a lopsided grin on his face.

"I didn't scare you, did I?" He teased.

You stuck your tongue out at him, making him chuckle. "I did the first level of the haunted house, so I'm still slightly on edge."

“Understandable. You ready for dinner?”

As if on cue, your stomach growled loudly and both of you laughed.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Yunho said, still chuckling a little.

The two of you began to walk, making your way back to the inn you were staying at. Once in the small restaurant area, you made your orders and chose a place to sit. Once the food arrived you dug in, silence reigning for a bit as both of you enjoyed your meals.

When both plates were empty, you looked up at Yunho and grinned. “We sure enjoyed that, didn’t we?”

He nodded, returning your grin.

Before either of you could say anything more, a server approached and announced that the restaurant was closing. You apologised for keeping them and asked Yunho if he wanted to talk more in your room. He agreed and the two of you went up to the second floor where your room was located.

You and Yunho talked long into the night about various memories from your childhood and where some of your friends went after you both left. Somewhere along the way the conversation came to crushes and past relationships, and Yunho casually dropped a rather shocking bit of information.

“I’ve had a crush on you since like eighth grade, I think. Still do, as a matter of fact.”

You stared at him in surprise as your brain processed what he’d just said. You’d had a crush on him for just as long, but you never in your life imagined he might’ve returned those feelings. “So have I.” You admitted.

You gazed at each other in silence for a moment, then Yunho leaned toward you a bit and murmured “Y/N, may I kiss you?”

“Please.” You whispered, hands coming up to grasp his shoulders as your lips met and bliss exploded throughout your body.

One large hand tangled in your hair, while the other spanned at least half of your waist. You clung to his shoulders for dear life as fireworks went off behind your closed eyelids. He deepened the kiss, and it felt like he was trying to swallow you whole as he gently tugged you closer until you were sitting in his lap. You shifted, wrapping your legs around him as you tried to get impossibly closer. After what felt like years you parted for air, a string of saliva linking you together.

You yanked at the buttons on his shirt as desire rose within you, a sudden want that was almost crippling in its intensity. Shaking hands hindered your efforts and Yunho’s long fingers stopped you.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” He inquired. You whined, and he chuckled. “Patience, love. You’ll get what you want in due time.” Pulling the shirt over his head in one smooth motion, you felt a shiver go straight to your core at the sight of his toned body. You busied yourself running your hands all over his skin, mapping every line of corded muscle you could find and stopping only to lift your arms when Yunho removed your blouse.

“Like what you see, love?” He asked, a coy smirk on his face.

“Yes, very much.” You moaned out as he dragged his thumbs over your nipples, each touch resulting in a jolt of pleasure that heightened your desire to almost a fever pitch. You needed him inside you yesterday, and you made sure he knew it.

“Please, Yun-ah, need you…can’t wait!”

“Easy now, my love. Just a little longer.”

Tenderly he laid you back onto the bed and you relished in how small you felt as his large frame hovered over you. He made short work of your pants and underwear, eyes widening as he took in just how wet you were. “Look at you, soaked already and I’ve barely even done anything.”

He slid two fingers into you, the long digits brushing your sweet spot and drawing a porn-worthy moan out of you. He added a third and you jolted a little, unused to the stretch but not in pain.

Yunho’s gaze darkened with desire as he continued to work his fingers inside you, curling them just right. The sensation was overwhelming, your body arching off the bed in response to his expert touch. Each thrust of his fingers sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting your nerves and leaving you gasping for more.

“Y/N, you feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry. “I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me.” The promise in his words sent a thrill through your core, tightening the knot of desire that was building inside you.

“Yunho, please… I can’t take it anymore.” You whined, desperately seeking his lips with yours again. The kiss was a feverish clash of tongues and teeth, a collision of passion that made your head spin.

Withdrawing his fingers, Yunho leaned back, his eyes locking onto yours, igniting an unspoken understanding between you. “I want you to tell me at once if anything hurts, okay?” You nodded and he positioned himself between your legs, his broad shoulders framing your body perfectly, and you couldn’t help but appreciate how tiny he made you feel. “Just relax, love. I’ve got you.”

“Please, I need you!” You begged, squirming beneath him, your body craving him. He nodded slowly, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he leaned forward, teasingly brushing against your entrance with the tip of his thick length.

“Such a good girl.” He praised softly, his fingertips ghosting over your clit as he leaned even closer, ready to enter you.

When he finally pressed inside you, it was blissful torture. He filled you to the brim, stretching you out in a way that sent sparks of pleasure radiating from your core. You let out a cry of sheer delight, your body clenching around him instinctively.

“Fuck, Y/N!” He growled, pushing deeper as he held your gaze, his expression a mix of lust and admiration. “You’re so fucking perfect. Such a sweet, tight little cunt and it's all mine.”

You moaned at that, body trembling with arousal as the filthy words tumbled from his lips.

He started moving, slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to his size. The stretch felt incredible, and you were all too aware of how small you felt compared to him. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, sending waves of pure ecstasy crashing over you.

“Yunho!” You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure built higher. He picked up his pace, his body slamming into yours with relentless force.

“Let go for me, my love. I want to feel you cum around me,” he commanded, and that sent you over the edge. Your body responded to his words, the coil within you snapping as you arched your back and let out a scream of pleasure.

“Yunho! Oh my god!” You cried, your body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. You could feel the heat of your orgasm pulsing through your veins, every nerve ending igniting in ecstasy.

“That’s it, Y/N,” he urged, his voice dripping with lust. His pace increased, driving you deeper into the haze of pleasure. “Just like that. You feel so good wrapped around me like this.”

He continued to move inside you, your sensitive body still trembling from your first orgasm when the familiar tension began to build again. The way he held you, his large hands gripping your hips, made you feel both safe and completely consumed by desire.

“Yunho, I’m close again!” You whimpered, lost in the intensity of the moment as he chased his own release.

“Then let go, baby. Cum for me again.”

With one final thrust, he found your sweet spot again, and it sent you spiralling over the edge for the second time. You screamed his name, a high-pitched sound filled with pure ecstasy as you felt your body tighten around him, a second orgasm washing over you in waves that left you breathless and shaking.

“Y/N!” Yunho groaned, his own release following closely behind as he buried himself deep inside you, filling you completely.

You both took a moment to collect yourselves, the room filled with the sounds of your heavy breaths and soft whimpers as you rode out the waves of pleasure. As the world slowly came back into focus, Yunho collapsed beside you, pulling you close against him.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a satisfied smile on his face. And as you lay there in the aftermath, feeling cherished in his embrace, you couldn’t help but agree. You snuggled up to Yunho, enjoying the warmth of his body as he curled around you and held you close. You drifted off to sleep with a content smile on your face.

«-Yesterday | Day 2-»

[sanjoongie]

𝔻𝕒𝕪 ℕ𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟/𝔼𝕕𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘

🥀Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader (F)

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact

🥀Au: start up (kdrama) au, programmers au, small business au

🥀Trope: rivals to lovers

🥀Summary: Yunho decides the best way to stop you from beating him in a race to create the best app in a technology contest is to distract you... with his body

🥀Kinks: ⚠️yunho seduces reader by beginning to masturbate in her office ⚠️ if this isn't your cup of tea, please skip!, male masturbation, edging, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, brat? Switch! Yunho, mean! Switch! Reader, oral (m), penetrative sex with a barrier, degradation

🥀Word Count: 2,620

🥀Betas: n/a

🥀Day Eighteen: size kink 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Twenty: Soft dom-sub/ Roleplay

“You shouldn't waste your time,” Yunho said as he walked into your office, hands tucked into his pants pockets. “No matter how many all-nighters you pull, you won't defeat us.”

You ignored your rival and focused on the code you were typing out on your computer. “Why are you here, Yunho?”

Yunho meandered over to where you were sitting. He leaned in, bracing one hand on your shoulder and the other gripping your computer screen. “To distract you, of course.”

Your company, and Yunho's, were both recipients of a big tech company’s investment. It was a race to create the best new app and win a coveted spot, sponsored by the big company. You and Yunho were programmer rivals. He, of course, was always ahead of you in school but you were determined to beat him here.

You rolled your eyes at Yunho’s comment. “What are you going to do? Whisper naughty things in my ear?”

“Good idea,” Yunho chuckled, “Only I'll do you one better.”

Yunho vacated the spot beside you and moved to somewhere else in the room, somewhere you couldn't see him. All that could be heard in your temporary office at the big tech headquarters was your adamant typing.

And then you heard a groan.

You couldn't help but lean far over to see around your computer monitors, and your jaw dropped to the floor. Yunho had sat on your couch, pulled up his turtleneck to expose his stomach and chest, and was currently undoing the belt to his pants.

“Yunho!” You shouted in alarm.

“If you're paying attention to me, you're not working, are you?” Yunho's lips twisted into a smirk.

Yunho's pants split into a vee to reveal the chubby that was growing in his boxers. You scooched back over so that the screens were covering your view of Yunho. “You're ridiculous. I can't believe you'd stoop so low just to win.”

“Then you really don’t—hnnnn–know me.” Oh God, what was he doing now?

Did you dare look? Did you dare not? What if someone came into the office and saw what was happening? Would you get disqualified? You had to put a stop to this.

You stood up quickly and then missed your first step. Yunho had his dick out of his boxers and was rubbing his hand up and down his length. His dark eyes were glued on you immediately. “What’s wrong, Pixelstick? Like what you see?” You hated that stupid demeaning nickname of his for you but why did it sound so hot coming out of his mouth while he touched himself?

“You sonofabitch,” You cursed him out, “Get off my couch and get out of my office.”

Yunho bit down on his lip teasingly. “Make me?”

“I'm going to kill you,” You vowed. You walked closer to Yunho and kicked his rather large shoe. “Stop playing dirty! It’s not going to work.”

Yunho looked at you then down at his cock. He used his thumb to smear some of his precum along his sensitive head and bucked up into the air. “Tell me you don’t want to wrap your mouth around me right now. That you don’t want to get down on your knees and swirl your tongue where my thumb is.”

Your nails made painful marks into your palms as they curled into two fists. Yunho’s lips parted and he started to breathe out of his mouth. You don’t know what you were thinking, but you lunged to grab Yunho’s wrist to stop him from doing any more and instead, made him jerk his hand upwards. When Yunho moved to yank his hand away, it came back down, making you fall down on top of his thighs. You were inadvertently on your knees beside Yunho’s leg and your head dangerously close to his cock. You couldn’t help but lick your lips. Damn it, Yunho!

“Are you just going to eat me up by looking at me or are you going to do something about it, loser?” Yunho inquired with a laugh.

“Fuck you, Yunho,” You spat, pushing yourself up.

Yunho patted his thigh. “There’s always room for you.”

You moved back to your computer and started back on your code. Surely Yunho would get tired of this charade and leave, right? Wrong.

Yunho took this as freedom to do exactly what he wanted. He moaned loudly, and to make matters worse, he was including you into his delusions now. “Bet your cunt is wet thinking of fucking me, right, Pixelstick?” Yunho let out a shaky exhale. “Fuck, I bet hate sex with you is hotter than anything.”

You swallowed but you didn’t find any moisture in your mouth. “Come on, Yunho, stop this,” You whined.

Yunho groaned and laughed at the same time. “I think you wanna pull at my hair and get me to gasp for you. You’ve always struck me as a girl who knows what she wants. I think you’ve wanted me for a long time.”

You start to squeeze your thighs together and rub your lips together. You could feel wetness pooling in your underwear and you inwardly cursed yourself. Of course, you knew your rival was attractive, in an abstract way that you would never outwardly admit. But listening to him talk like this, the image of his exposed body only on the other side of your monitor, was driving you insane.

You hear Yunho whine next and then hear some shuffling and then there’s no noise in the room because you can't code anymore. Yunho was successfully distracting you.

“Yunho–” You stood up and your breath caught in the back of your throat.

Yunho appeared a bit flushed, his long fingers holding the base of his cock. If you didn’t know any better, it looked like Yunho had just edged himself and was holding himself back from coming. He was really serious about this right now.

Yunho cocked his head flirtatiously at you. “You sure you don’t want to help me out?”

You abruptly sat back down again. The fuck kind of seduction technique was this and why was it working? “No,” You said rather firmly, causing Yunho to laugh again.

“Guess we’ll go again then.”

Yunho groaned loudly and you muffled a whimper of your own, biting down on your finger. Why did he sound so fucking good right now? You were not–could not–think about fucking your rival. You really had code to write, you had people you couldn’t let down, you–

“Your tiny hands look so cute around my cock, loser,” Yunho grunted. He was definitely still masturbating. “Can you even fit me in your mouth? You’re so cute.”

“Yunho, you have to stop this!” You stood up for the umpteenth time.

Yunho’s hand leisurely worked his length. His head was back on the couch, the line of his jaw and his long neck looking delicious. You shook your head. You couldn’t fall for this. “I’ll stop if you prove to me that you’re not turned on by this; that you don’t want to come over and sink on my dick.”

Well, that was going to prove impossible. What if… “If I fuck you, will you leave?”

Yunho raised his head up slightly, raising his eyebrows at you. “Are you offering to fuck me?”

“Yes. No.” You bit down on your own lip in uncertainty. “If I make you cum, will you leave?”

Yunho smirked. “You’re afraid to show me how wet you are, aren’t you? Such a cute loser.”

You stomped your foot in frustration. “If I’ve got to suck you off to get your smug face out of my office, fine.”

Your feet somehow moved all the way in front of Yunho and you dropped to your knees. You pushed his knees far apart to make room for yourself. You knocked Yunho’s hands away from his cock and took him firmly with two, one stacked on top of the other. You avoided all eye contact with Yunho and took the head of him inside of your mouth. You sucked only on his head, your lips finding the seam of his head. You swirled your tongue around there, tasting Yunho. You tried to not squirm because of Yunho’s breathy groan.

“Oh fuck yes,” Yunho moaned loudly.

You ran your tongue along the slit of Yunho’s cock and he bucked into your mouth, making your tongue lie flat along his head. You continued to play with the head of Yunho’s cock with your mouth and tongue, only moving your hands slightly along his length.

“You’re…you’re driving me wild, Pixelstick, I didn’t think you had it in you,” Yunho rasped huskily.

You hoped to get Yunho to come quickly in your mouth but it seemed like since he had been edging himself, he wasn’t quick to release himself inside of your mouth. You whined in frustration and that made Yunho chuckle. “What’s wrong, loser? Are you having trouble? Want me to take care of you?”

You released his cock from your mouth and scowled at your rival. “I’m not having any trouble at all.”

“If you’re shy, I could fuck you without us facing each other. It’s cute you don’t think you can stare me in the eye while I’m balls deep in you, Pixelstick.” Yunho folded his arms behind his head, confident in his words.

You groaned in frustration and left to go find some condoms. Yunho caught your wrist and pulled one from his pocket. “You think I didn’t come prepared? You're a career woman, after all, you’d never risk getting pregnant on a hook up.”

You really didn’t like how well Yunho knew you. “I will get you to come and then you will leave, do you hear me?” You knelt on the couch, thighs against the arm of the couch, as you braced yourself on the tops of the arm. You pulled up your skirt and looked over your shoulder. “Will you hurry up already?”

Yunho split open the wrapper of the condom with his teeth and then slipped on the bright pink condom easily. You turned your head, not needing to see how nimble his fingers were, working on rolling the condom down his length. He probably kept condoms on him because his cock really was that big–damn it!

“Ready for me, loser?” Yunho whispered into your ear. His breath was hot on your ear and the head of his cock rubbed against your cunt, your underwear still firmly in place.

“If you call me loser while we fuck, I will kick you out so fast,” You bit at him.

“So… should I call you lover, instead?” Yunho mused.

You reached around Yunho’s head and gripped his hair harshly in your hand. You brought your lips dangerously close to Yunho’s. “Fuck me or leave, Yunho,” You snarled lowly.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Yunho chuckled.

He pushed your underwear to the side and pushed slowly into you. “Oh fuck,” Yunho cursed again. He fucked you slowly and that made you frustrated instantly.

“Don’t you dare edge yourself inside of me–or edge me!” You shouted.

“You should be groaning, not scolding me. Hmmm, something isn’t right,” Yunho said out loud. He adjusted his stance behind you. He pushed your legs together and pushed your hips further against the arm of the couch. “Oh shit, you’re so tighter like that, fuck, that backfired.”

You would have cackled in glee until Yunho started to move and you squealed in pleasure. Yunho was right. Something about this slight change made everything a little bit more intense. “Did you like that, lover?” Yunho purred from behind you. “Do you want more?”

“This isn’t about me right now,” You said through gritted teeth. “Just fuck me already, Yunho.”

It was getting harder and harder to keep the whine out of your voice as Yunho fucked you. You were trying real hard to keep quiet but the way Yunho was fucking you was so good, it was hard to keep your noises silent.

“You’re going to mark yourself, stop that,” Yunho commanded quietly. He pulled your hand from your mouth and a low whine built up in the back of your throat immediately at the odd gentleness from the man that was constantly poking at you.

“Yu…yunho…” You panted. “Hurry up!”

“Just admit it,” Yunho said quietly, “Admit that you like the way I fuck you.”

You had had enough. You still had code to write, you were turned on beyond reason at the fact that your rival was fucking you in your office right now and you were tired of fighting with yourself.

“Yunho, please,” You begged.

“Please what, lover?” Yunho growled, hips still moving against your ass.

“It’s good,” You whined, “Just make us come.”

“What’s that?” Yunho teased you, “Could you speak up? Did you just say I was fucking you good?”

“Yunho!” You shouted coarsely.

“Say it properly,” Yunho instructed.

“Your dick is fucking me so damn good,” You cooed and Yunho melted against you.

“That’s my girl,” He hummed back at you. “Gonna fuck you into a nice orgasm and melt your stress away, huh? You won’t have a bad thing to say about me then, hmm?”

Yunho’s hands were firm but gentle on your hips as he fucked you from behind. He coaxed you to an almost-orgasm quite a few times, if only to hear you plead and compliment him. Your voice grew hoarse from the amount of times he denied you, and himself, an orgasm, just to get you to say everything he’d been dying to hear.

Yunho had always wanted to be your peer, someone to share the ambition you both carried, but you had always seen him as your rival. So he played your game; played to be the man you continued to see him as. But this time, in this very important race for a coveted contract from the biggest tech firm in the business, Yunho found an opportunity to get everything he wanted.

When Yunho finally let the two of you come, you were sweating and whining and a total mess beneath him. Yunho had not fared any better, breathing heavily and coming so much, he swore the condom would be bursting when he pulled out of you.

It had all started with finding you in said office late one night, fingers in your tight little cunt, whining his name. It had been a god awful hour and you had probably been certain that no one was in the building, but Yunho had been double checking the other programmers work and had been dragging himself home when he had heard the small noises coming from your office. He hadn’t meant to spy but when his name had left your lips, he had convinced himself then and there that he would get you to say his name while his actual cock was inside of you.

“Try to not be so loud when you masturbate in the office next time, huh loser?” Yunho told you as he patted your ass and pulled out.

“You–what? Fuck,” You cursed softly. “Is this what this is about?!”

Yunho pulled his phone out of his pocket and airdropped a note with his phone number. “When you decide your fingers can’t possibly do what I can do for you, you message me, how about that, Pixelstick?”

How you managed to fix your skirt, walk back to your station and work on your code was a mystery to you. Especially when you were daydreaming of getting Yunho to come in your mouth next time… wait, there was going to be a next time? Perhaps Yunho had fucked all your common sense out of you, because that sounded like a mistake just waiting to happen.

🥀Day Eighteen: size kink 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Twenty: Soft dom-sub/ Roleplay

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Getting Caught | Choi San ft. Jeong Yunho

Pairing: Established Choi San x Fem!Reader, Jeong Yunho x Reader (implied to happen)

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), Kinktober 2023

Summary: San gets needy before dance practice with the boys, so you decide to help him out

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: Reader is called princess, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, praise, degradation, just so much blowjob description, Yunho is lowkey a voyeur

A/N: Unedited as always. Lemme know what you thikn

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

Dating a person like San meant going out of your way to make time for the two of you, even more so with him being an idol. It meant spending time with the other members too, not that you minded that part, but most of all it meant that finding time for just the two of you was difficult. So it wasn't unusual for you to end up sitting in a practice room while San danced his ass off, trying to get a head start on the choreography that he and the group were supposed to be working on in a little while when the others got there.

You were watching, always in awe of San's stage presence and how vastly different it was to the man you knew in real life. Your phone with whatever idle game you'd been playing was discarded in your lap, your attention fully on the way San moved, the roll of his hips, the sharp movements of his arms that made his biceps flex, the way his shirt rode up just enough to give you a glimpse of his stomach. You swallowed.

"See something you like?" He asks, startling you out of your thoughts. You laughed, handing him his water bottle as he walked over to you.

"Of course I do. Why else do you think I come here?" You shot back. He took a drink from his bottle before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

"For my dazzling personality?" He asked, catching your lips again. You hummed, pulling him down so he was closer. Lord knows he needed a rest. He landed on his knees, surprisingly gracefully and drew you closer. You would have whined about his sweat slicked skin against yours but then his mouth was on you again, tongue drawing over your lip until you let him in. You whined into his mouth as his tongue worked against yours, exploring your mouth while his hands gripped at your sides.

"Sannie," You whined as his lips moved down over your jaw, along your pulsepoint to suck harshly. You could feel his lips curl proudly at the reaction he earned. "The boys are gonna be here soon and they're gonna catch you all worked up."

You were trying to keep your mind reasonable, really you were, but you weren't always good at that. Especially when your boyfriend's warm hands were pushing your shirt up, gliding along your sides, brushing against the cups of your bra and teasing your nipples through the thing material.

"Then you should help me out before they get here. Right, princess? Don't want your Sannie getting caught with a hard on, do you?" He asked, bringing your hand to rub against the outline of his cock through his sweats. You should have argued, or tried to reason with him in any way, but you couldn't when you could feel how badly he wanted you.

You got up on your knees, and the second you did he was springing to his feet, already pushing his pants and underwear down enough for his cock to spring out. It was so pretty, long and leaking precum that ran down the underside. You reached out, wrapping a hand around his length and stroking him slowly, dipping your thumb into his slit and revelling in the way he whined for you.

You let go of him, suckling your thumb into your mouth and tasting him before leaning forward and dragging your tongue from base to tip, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and sucking gently. His hand slid into your hair, and you slowly bobbed your head lower, taking him inch by inch and swirling your tongue against the underside of his shaft the way he liked.

"Just like that. Such a perfect mouth, I'm so lucky." He hissed. His free hand pressed against the mirrored wall behind you, holding himself steady as you picked up your pace. The head of his cock was nudging into your throat, making you gag, but you never pulled away. He looked down at your watery eyes looking right back up to him as a mix of your spit and his precum leaked from the corners of your stretched lips.

He pushed deeper, hips starting to roll to meet your mouth, holding you on his dick while your throat constricted and spasmed around him. The sounds of your gags and his moans filled the practice room, and you could feel your own arousal leaking between your thighs at the feeling. When he pulled you off of his cock completely, your face was streaked with tears, lips swollen and glossy, and fuck if he didn't think you were the most breathtaking thing he'd ever seen.

You pouted at him, trying to get his cock back in your mouth, but he tugged at your hair, earning a surprised whimper from you.

"Sannie, please. Please, want it so bad. Wanna suck your dick, want you to use my mouth. Please." You begged, scalp stinging from the way he was still gripping your hair. He let go then, smoothing his hand over the back of your head.

"Such a cockdrunk little thing. Cute. Want me to cum down your throat? Fuck your face like the perfect toy you are?" He asked. You nodded eagerly, shifting on your knees and feeling the bruises threatening to bloom if you didn't move soon. But you didn't care, too focused on the thought of him fucking your throat raw.

Then he was guiding your head back to his dick, sliding in easily and holding the back of your head still so he could fuck into your mouth frantically. He knew time was running out, but he'd give anything to just keep feeling you. He'd never been with anyone so eager to suck him off for as long as you were. Fucking perfect. He groaned, sweat rolling down his tanned skin as he listened to the filthy sounds of his cock filling your mouth.

He was so close, and you were looking at him with those eyes that always did him in, and then the door was swinging open.

"Am I interrupting?" Yunho's voice carried through the room, a tone of disgust blending with the undeniable intrigue that laced his words. San pulled his cock out of your mouth, scrambling to pull his boxers back up and leaving you looking between the two in mild panic.

Yunho examined the situation, his own dick twitching with interest. He'd always thought you were sexy, San knew it and loved to tease him about it. And there you were, perched so pretty on your knees with your lips swollen and glossed with spit, your hair messy from having San's hands tugging at it so much, and the prettiest doe eyes he'd ever seen. He scoffed, tossing his bag down by the door.

"Don't stop on my account. Better finish before the others get here." He said. San looked like he was about to combust, but it was obvious that he wanted nothing more than to keep going.

"Do you need help too, Yunnie?" You asked, already tugging at San's boxers. He hesitated for a moment, but then he was pushing them down, stroking his dick and waiting for Yunho to answer so he could have your attention back. Yunho let out a giggle, one of delight and maybe a little bashfulness.

"Think you have time for both of us?" He asked. You lit up, nodding eagerly. And before you knew it San was sliding his length back into your mouth, stroking your cheek gently as you returned to sucking him off.

"Trust me, hyung. You'll blow the second you feel her mouth."

"Is that a challenge?" Yunho asked, palming his growing bulge through his pants. San shook his head, groaning when you deepthroated him.

"Not a challenge. It's a promise." He said. And you hummed at the praise. It was a promise you were determined to keep.

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