#really love how cats(+wonwoo) were so attached to yn

[thepoopdokyeomtouched]

THIS WHOLE THING BLEW MY MIND 🤯✨

Like bro how are you SO GOOD at writing these 😭 the storyline to the plot to the emotions to the smut and the whole setting??!?!?!?! YOU ARE ONE OF THE BEST FQING WRITER THAT IT MAKES ME ANGRY(lovingly) THAT HOW WELL YOU DO THIS THING👏🏻🙌😭✨💓💓💓

Bro you are on the next level~

For Worse Or For Better Part Three

Summary: Wonwoo's got a big question to ask his wife.

Rating: M (18+ MDNI) | Word Count: ~3.5k

Part One | Part Two | Alternate Part Two

Warnings/Notes: fem reader, set six months after part two, not as edited as normal, food cooking and eating, fingering, clit stim, piv sex, bulge kink, breeding kink (no impreg), lmk if i forgot anything

Wonwoo can feel your eyes on him from where you stand in the kitchen. He’d just come out of the shower and attempted to help you with dinner, but you (gently) swatted his hand away from the seasoning rack with a wooden spoon before he could touch anything. So, he accepted his exile and took a seat on the couch. 

From here, he can’t watch you cook unless he turns his head, which is probably for the best.

Something about seeing you dance around the kitchen, singing over the soup and shaking your ass when you thought he wasn’t looking, always got him going. Maybe it’s because that was the start of him falling for you, maybe it’s the way your ass looks in those tiny shorts, maybe it’s how your singing voice kinda sounds like your sex voice. 

And the way you move throughout the whole process? It's like a dance, and your timing is always perfect. 

Just now, you’d made it to the fridge and back in fifteen seconds, grabbing exactly what you needed without a second glance and returning just in time to turn the soup down as it came to a boil. 

Wonwoo doesn’t know why exactly but it does something to him. 

You’re just so natural when you cook; you always know exactly what you’re doing, even without a recipe. 

Especially without a recipe, he thinks. You’re much more confident when you get to decide what goes in and how and when. He’d learned that with the first (and only) Hello Fresh meal box he ordered for you. You’d read over the recipe at least fifteen times and made yourself too nervous to even start. 

Wonwoo canceled the subscription that night and brought the box of ingredients over to Seokmin’s the next day. He’d returned with a gift card to your favorite italian market and all was right in the world. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you bounce down onto the couch and throw your legs onto his lap, Mr. Mittens and Queen Bea immediately jumping up to lay on your stomach. His hands move instinctively to hold you, thumb rubbing over your ankle and ears red like a stoplight. 

“Soup just needs to simmer for ten minutes,” you explain, letting yourself fall to your back on the couch, your eyelids fluttering shut. Your breathing gets a bit deeper, not enough for him to think you’re sleeping, just enough for him to know you lied about not being tired. 

Wonwoo’s never more frustrated at his absolute ineptitude in the kitchen than times like these. He wishes he could cook for you, wishes he could care for you in this way, wishes he could take some of the load off. But it’s truly a disaster every time, and whenever he tries, the both of you end up tired and starving. 

He hasn’t told you, wanting to preserve the surprise, but he’s been secretly taking cooking classes for weeks at a local test kitchen. It was daunting at first, being in a kitchen without you around, but he pushed through and recently, he’s even gotten kind of… okay at it? The dishes he makes (under the chef’s careful supervision) are edible and even, dare he say, enjoyable sometimes. 

Wonwoo’s not ready for you to know though, needs to perfect your favorite meal first, and he hopes he’ll have it down by your birthday. It’ll be the first you’ve ever shared with him, and nearly a year to the day since he’d met you and married you, and he wants it to be special. He has a lot of plans for that night, plans that include an engagement ring and two tickets to Paris, and it all needs to be perfect. 

For now, he’ll just trace your soft skin with his fingers and eat your delicious food and make sure the kitchen is spotless after every meal. 

You’ll be home from class soon, and Wonwoo’s a whirlwind of anxiety and speed as he flits around the kitchen, checking temperatures and stirring sauces and lighting candles. The table is already set, your wine glass adorned with a charm and the ring he’d painstakingly picked out, and Wonwoo’s trying to pretend he’s not about to have a cardiac event while he waits for you. 

Everything’s done, and as perfect as he can possibly make it, and he hears the key turn in the lock just as he’s setting the main dish down on the table. 

You look beautiful, sighing as you hang your keys on the shelf and shed your coat, your pumps kicked off immediately and your hands reaching up the back of your shirt to undo your bra. You remove it somehow, an ability Wonwoo has always marveled at, and tiredly make your way down the hallway towards him, stopping short when you see the dining table and Wonwoo standing nervously next to it. 

He’d changed into a different suit, the one he wore to the company gala that had changed everything, and you tear up before you even catch sight of the wine glass held in his hand. 

You float to him, walking your way straight into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist, and, hugging you back with his free arm, he presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers, "Hi baby, happy birthday."

Queen Bea yells a meow, weaving through your feet and rubbing up against you until you break away from Wonwoo and lean down to pick her up, scritching her under the chin and letting her jump from your arms when she starts wriggling away. 

You sigh, “Thanks, honey,” and faceplant into his chest again, and Wonwoo worries you won’t be up for a dinner like he’s got planned tonight. He’d be a bit disappointed but he just wants to make you happy, so if you decide to throw your jammies on and watch White Collar for the fifth time, he’ll support you. 

“You look so handsome and you smell so good and I love you so much, let me go put my dress on, I’ll be right back,” you mumble into his pecs, and he releases you and watches with fondness as you stumble to the bedroom. 

You emerge with tired eyes and messy hair, clad in the silk dress you’d worn that night, and Wonwoo doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone prettier in his life. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you take the wineglass and swallow a big gulp with a hum, barely noticing the clinking of the ring against the base of the glass. 

He’ll let you see it on your own time and pulls out your chair, gently pushing it back in once you sit and lay the napkin down on your lap. Your eyes rove over all of the steaming plates and dishes, growing wide when you look around and don’t see any takeout containers. 

“Where’d all this come from, babe?” you ask, confusion quirking your brow though you pick up the fork as Wonwoo serves you. 

He bites his lips before answering excitedly, “I made it!”

You pause with a bite inches from your lips, your mouth open and your eyes caught on him. Eyeing your fork pensively, you observe the way he’s nearly vibrating in his chair and slowly place the fork in your mouth, keeping your gaze on him as you chew. Your eyes narrow, your brows furrowing, and Wonwoo feels his heart drop into his stomach. Fuck, you hate it, it’s awful, he’s poisoned you, he’s poisoned his wi-

“What the fuck, Wonwoo, this is fucking delicious!” you breathe, still glaring at him as you bring another bite to your mouth, chewing suspiciously. 

He feels like he could fly, but also like he could sweep all his work off this table and fuck you stupid on it, so he settles for beaming and saying, “I’ve been taking classes, I wanted to surprise you for your birthday! Do you like it?”  

You lay a hand on his arm and swallow with a dreamy sigh before responding, “Wonwoo, I love it, I would kiss you if my mouth wasn’t so busy.”

He smiles his most pleased smile and dances in his chair, serving himself and letting out a low woah when he tastes the food he’d made. 

Of course Wonwoo tasted it while he was cooking, but the end result is so much better than he expected and now he knows why you were suspicious. It is good, and he makes a mental note to send flowers both to the chef who taught the classes and to Mingyu for recommending them. 

You take a sip of wine, the ring still unnoticed, and Wonwoo starts to feel a bit antsy. He’s not sure how to draw attention to the charm without being completely obvious, and he wants to know what you’ll say! Based on the past six months, he’s fairly sure you’ll say yes but there’s always the chance you won’t.

Wonwoo thinks he’d be able to bear it if you said no (lie). 

You chat about your day through bites of food and hums, trying a bit of each dish and complimenting every one, finishing off your wine and holding your glass out for more when he offers. It must have been a tough lecture today, and Wonwoo remembers that you had a meeting with your thesis advisor too, and asks how it all had gone. 

You groan, your head tipping back before you tell him that you’re on track to graduate but that you’ll need to rework your thesis a bit and you’re dreading finding more sources. He can’t do much to help besides offering you his hand and promising to go to the library with you whenever he can, but that seems to be enough and you relax with a squeeze of your fingers around his. 

You’re on your third glass and Wonwoo’s on his second, the both of you delightfully tipsy as you finish up dinner. He figures it you haven’t seen the ring yet, tonight’s not the night, and rises to start clearing the table. 

You stand to help, pulling the strap of your dress back up when it slips and following him to the kitchen with all the dishes you can carry, wine glass held in the crook of your arm. 

You pack away the leftovers while Wonwoo sheds his jacket and rolls up his sleeves, donning the dishwashing gloves before starting to wash up. He can feel your fond gaze on him and soon enough, your hands wind around his stomach and your body presses to his back in a hug. He squeezes your arms with his elbows and carries on with the washing, moving with you when you start to sway to the music you’d turned on. 

Wonwoo’s still in disbelief a bit that he gets to be so domestic with you after six months of dreaming about it, of you cooking alone and him washing the dishes alone, of not being able to touch you or love you out loud, and suddenly, he’s desperate for you to see the ring, so he asks, “Can you take the charm off of your glass? I can’t with the gloves.”

You hum and let go of his abdomen, trailing a hand around his waist as you move to his side and take the wine glass carefully. You blink sleepily as you bring it closer to your face, freezing when you catch sight of what’s attached to the charm. 

“Wonwoo… is this-,” you begin slowly, too slowly for Wonwoo, and he interrupts you, “It’s a ring. An engagement ring. I know we did the married part already but I- I never actually got to ask you.”

Your lip quivers, your eyebrows screwing up as your watery eyes meet his, your hand clutching the glass so tightly he fears the stem will break. With shaky fingers you remove the charm and hand him the ring, the metal cool in his palm and the tile hard under his knee as he kneels and looks up at you. 

You’re already holding out your hand, bouncing on the balls of your feet and beaming tearily at him, and Wonwoo takes a deep breath before whispering, “Baby, I love you more than anything. Will you please stay married to me?” 

You shriek a giggle and wiggle your fingers, inching closer to him as you nearly shout, “Yesyesyesyesyes, Wonwoo, yes!” 

The laugh bubbles up out of his chest along with all of the stress and fear he’d felt leading up to this moment, and he slides the ring on your fourth finger with confidence, catching you when you drop down and straddle his knee. Your hands fly to cup his face and pull him into a deep kiss, your tongue swiping along his bottom lip and sliding inside his mouth when he opens for you with a groan, clumsily setting his glasses on the counter and shifting so he can sit cross legged on the floor and tug you into his lap. 

Wonwoo can already feel his dick swelling in his dress pants, the zipper pressing uncomfortably against his hardening length when you grind down. He doesn’t mind, your heat is enough to distract him and he realizes he can feel it, feel your wetness starting to seep into the material, and slides his hand up your thigh to cup you, his palm meeting your bare pussy. 

“Fuck, have you been naked under this dress the whole time?” he breathes on a moan, two fingers sinking inside you with ease and his thumb starting to glide over your clit when you nod with a smirk. 

You’re so warm and fucking soaking wet already, and Wonwoo’s so obsessed with you, so lucky to be your husband, so ecstatic you want to keep being married to him, and he’s not sure he can wait. He wants to be inside you right now, needs to feel your heat wrapped around him, needs to be close to you, so he slides another finger inside and spreads them, rubbing insistent circles around your clit with his thumb until you cry out and your walls start to flutter around his digits. 

Wonwoo fucks you with his fingers through your orgasm, thrusting in and out of your clenching pussy and pushing through the tightness when you squeeze down harder, his fingertips hooking into your g-spot and drawing the pleasure out. 

You’re whining, shaking under his touch, and he tugs at one tie on your shoulder until the bow comes loose and your dress dips to expose your breasts, dropping his head to wrap his lips around a nipple and start working you up to a second climax. It’s easy, always easy after the first and with just a few more curls of his fingers and a bit more pressure on your clit, you’re pulsing around him again, whining into his neck and jerking your hips into his hand. 

Your hands shoot down to undo his pants, pulling his cock out and shoving your dress up enough to line him up and sink down, your pussy swallowing his whole cock in one swift motion. 

It normally takes Wonwoo a bit longer to work his way inside you and the molten velvet that suddenly surrounds him has his head spinning, lost in you and the heat of your cunt. You start moving immediately, hips swiveling and breasts bouncing and Wonwoo leans back, braces himself on one hand and pulls you closer to his chest with the other, holding you to him as he starts fucking into you harshly. He bottoms out with each thrust, your pussy so slick that wetness splatters his cloth covered thighs every time he drives himself into you and your head tips back, your plush lips opening on a long moan, your voice wavering with the rhythm of his hips. Fuck, you’re so-

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby, my pretty little wife, shit,” Wonwoo groans, his chest rumbling against yours and he really wishes he could feel your warm body against his, feel your nipples dragging against his skin, feel your soft breasts pressing into pecs, and he tries desperately to unbutton his shirt but finds his fingers aren’t working. He’s almost frantic with the desire to feel you, fingertips scrabbling at the buttons before he gives up, grunts a fuck it, and rips his dress shirt open and off, pings echoing around the kitchen as the buttons fly against the cabinets.  

You moan and tighten around him, your pussy clamping down, sucking his cock deeper, and Wonwoo just can’t get close enough so he wraps both arms around you and shifts forward until he can fuck you into the tile, tattered cotton shoved underneath you so your bare back doesn’t touch. 

He lifts your legs into the crooks of his arms and bends over you, folding you in half and placing his palms by your shoulders, thighs nearly straddling yours as he drives his hips into you. Wonwoo’s face is inches from yours like this, and he can watch every flutter of your eyelashes, every quiver of your lips, every twitch of your brow while he fucks you. 

Your arms weakly twine around his neck and you cry out with every thrust, the noise punched out of you by his cock and when his stomach presses flat to yours, he swears he can feel something bumping against him. There’s not enough space in his brain to think too much about it, his mind reeling with every sound you make, every expression that crosses your face, every clench of your perfect pussy around his throbbing cock. 

On the next dig of his cock into you, Wonwoo angles his hips up just a bit and feels that bumping again, realizes it’s his fucking dick he can feel through the muscle and fat of your tummy, and thank fuck you’re cumming because he is too, his cock jumping and swelling and flooding you with searing hot cum. Your walls pulsate around him, milking his dick of every drop until it coats the base in a ring of white, his still hard length plugging you up and keeping the rest inside you even as your tight cunt tries to push him out. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your mouth stuck open in a silent scream, and when he roots his cock deep inside of you one last time, you suck in a wet gasp and flutter your damp lashes open to look up at him. 

Wonwoo returns your gaze, his eyes half lidded and his face slack with pleasure, lungs expanding and contracting rapidly against yours as he tries to catch his breath. You send him a sleepy smile and crane your neck up to peck his nose, making him chuckle and press his forehead into your sternum, sighing at the feeling of your fingers running through his hair and scratching at his scalp. He could fall asleep like this, wants to, but he’s still got you twisted up like a pretzel and you must be getting uncomfortable by now so he pulls back slowly, releasing your legs and rubbing over your thighs as he starts to withdraw his cock from you.

Your hands shoot down to his hips and drag them back into you, and Wonwoo looks up in question and concern just before you whine, “It’ll be so messy,” with a pout. 

You’re right, and Wonwoo knows neither of you will want to clean cum off of marble, so he scoops your hips up into his lap and tugs the shirt down to lay under your ass, setting you down and gently pulling out, his cum dribbling out of you and onto the cotton. 

He shakily helps you up, his knees not much stronger than yours, and lets you stumble off to start the shower while he cleans and disinfects the floor. 

Gasping when he realizes he still hadn’t told you about the tickets to Paris, or the month-long trip around Europe he’s got planned for your graduation, Wonwoo speeds to the bedroom to place the tickets on top of the pajamas you’d set out. 

He heads to the bathroom and catches sight of you through the fogged up glass doors. You’re wearing nothing but your wedding and engagement rings, and Wonwoo’s eyes slide down your body with the suds, loving gaze lingering on all his favorite spots. He watches you as he strips absentmindedly, awed that he gets to have this, have you, every day. 

And now that you’ve said yes, he gets to have you for the rest of his life, too. 

AN: Okieeee im gonna take a lil break to deal with some things and hopefully come back with chapters of it's nice to have a friend and part three of like a cowboy

i might check tumblr periodically but i won't be around much, please be kind to me in the meantime!

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