#yunho fic

[leo-seonghwa]

I WILL BEG FOR A PART 2 - kindly 🧎🏻‍♀️

You Wrote That For Me, Didn't You?

pairing(s) : Idol!Yunho x Atiny!reader

word count : 1931

summary : After casually revealing your face on Tumblr, a well-known smut writer attend an ATEEZ fan meet, unaware of the consequences. When you sit in front of Yunho, something feels off—the way he looks at you, the way he lingers. Then, just before her time is up, he drops a bombshell. He follows your account. He’s read everything. And he’s not letting you go that easily.

genre : suggestive

warning(s) : Slight dub-con vibes (power imbalance), heavy tension, teasing, suggestive language, explicit themes, idol-reader dynamics, Yunho being way too confident and knowing, mild obsession undertones, reader’s worst (or best?) nightmare coming true. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N : this one got my toes curling SKSKKSKSKSK. Here's the part 2!

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐fic under the cut🪐

You never thought twice before posting your fics. Why would you? It was just writing—just words strung together for thirsty Atinys who craved something a little more. Some of your works had gone viral, and you had a loyal following of readers who loved every filthy thing you put out.

So when you finally did a face reveal on your Tumblr, you didn’t think much of it. A casual selfie, captioned with something dumb like “Since y’all keep asking… here, take it”. A few hundred likes, some teasing comments, and that was that.

No big deal.

At least, that’s what you thought.

The excitement of the fan meet buzzed in your veins as you finally sat down in front of Yunho. Seeing him this close was unreal—the warmth of his presence, the way his smile reached his eyes, the deep, smooth hum of his voice as he greeted you.

But something felt off.

You couldn’t quite place it at first. It was subtle—just the way his gaze lingered, a little longer than it should. The way he studied your face like he was placing you, as if you weren’t just another fan in his long line of meet-and-greet interactions.

Then came the compliment.

“You’re really pretty in person,” he murmured, and his voice had a weight to it, like there was something more behind the words.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Ah—thank you!”

The response felt automatic, but your brain was still trying to process the way he was looking at you. Not just with the usual idol-to-fan warmth, but with something… different. Like he knew you.

His fingers tapped lightly against the table, rhythmic and patient, as if he was waiting for something. Then, just as the staff was about to signal your turn was up, Yunho leaned in ever so slightly.

And then he said it.

“You should be more careful about what you post, Jagiya.”

Your body stiffened.

Your mind blanked.

Did he just—

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, eyes widening in pure, unfiltered panic. But Yunho? Yunho just smiled. A slow, knowing curve of his lips, dark amusement flickering in his gaze.

“I follow you on Tumblr,” he continued, voice dropping just enough that only you could hear. His tone was smooth, casual, like he was discussing the weather. Like he wasn’t completely wrecking your reality in real time.

Your stomach twisted. No, this had to be a joke. A coincidence. There was no way—

“Mm.” His fingers brushed against the table, casual and lazy. “I recognized you the moment I saw your selfie.”

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

You had so much smut on that account. And not just any smut—detailed, filthy scenarios that had Yunho doing things that could get you banned just for thinking about them too hard.

“I—” Your voice came out weak, shaky, and you were suddenly painfully aware of how warm your face was.

Yunho chuckled, the sound low and pleased. “You look flustered,” he mused. “Why? You weren’t shy when you wrote all those things about me.”

He was teasing you.

No—he was toying with you.

Your fingers clenched around the edge of the table as you swallowed hard, trying to force your brain to work. But you could barely breathe under his gaze, let alone form a response.

He leaned in just a little more, close enough that you could catch the faintest hint of his cologne. His voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the edge behind it when he said—

“You wrote that for me, didn’t you?”

Your time was up.

The staff was gently urging you to move along, but you couldn’t move—wouldn’t—until Yunho tilted his head, gaze flickering to the line behind you.

Then, just before you stood up, he murmured one last thing—low, quiet, for your ears only.

“See you later, baby.”

You walked away from the table in a daze.

The voices of other fans, the bright lights, the excited chatter—everything blurred into a distant hum, like white noise. Your body moved on instinct, following the line toward the exit, but your mind was stuck. Frozen.

Yunho knew.

Yunho read your fics.

Yunho—Jeong Yunho—had been watching your blog, scrolling through your late-night thirst posts, reading every filthy thought you had ever put into words.

Your breath shuddered as you stepped outside the venue, the cool night air doing little to calm the heat burning under your skin. Your heart was pounding—too fast, too hard—like you had just run miles instead of sitting for a harmless fan meet.

Except it wasn’t harmless.

Because Yunho’s voice was still ringing in your ears.

"You wrote that for me, didn't you?"

A shiver ran down your spine, and you had to physically shake your head, trying to snap yourself out of it. No. No, there was no way this was real. Maybe you had misheard him. Maybe he was just teasing.

Maybe—

Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

You nearly dropped it when you pulled it out, fingers trembling as you glanced at the screen. A notification from Tumblr. Someone had just liked one of your posts.

A post from two years ago.

Your stomach dropped.

Slowly, hesitantly, you opened the app. The notification led you straight to the post—a particularly filthy piece about Yunho, one that had gone semi-viral when you first wrote it. And sitting right there, at the top of the notes—

A new like.

From a user you didn’t recognize.

Your pulse hammered as you clicked on the profile. It was nearly empty—just a default avatar, no posts, no bio. But there was one thing.

The blog name.

"ateezyunho1999."

Your mouth went dry.

No. No, no, no, this had to be a joke.

Then another notification popped up.

A message.

Your vision blurred for a second as you forced yourself to tap on it, breath shallow as you read the words.

"Come outside."

A pause.

Then—

"I'll be waiting."

Your hands shook as you stared at the message.

You could feel your own pulse in your throat, hammering like a warning. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Yunho was an idol. A celebrity. There was no way he would actually—

Your phone buzzed again.

The third message.

"Don't make me wait, baby."

The air in your lungs turned heavy. Your brain screamed at you to walk away, to ignore it, to go home and pretend none of this ever happened.

But your body?

Your body was already moving.

Like you had no control over yourself, your feet carried you toward the back of the venue, slipping past groups of lingering fans, past the staff still bustling around. You shouldn’t be doing this. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this.

And yet—

As soon as you turned the corner, stepping into the dimly lit alley behind the building, you felt him before you even saw him.

Yunho.

He was leaning against the side of a sleek black car, one hand tucked into the pocket of his coat, the other holding his phone. The glow of the screen lit up his face, casting soft shadows along the sharp angles of his jawline. But it wasn’t the way he looked that sent a shiver down your spine.

It was the way he smirked when he saw you.

Slowly, he slipped his phone into his pocket, pushing off the car as he took a step toward you.

“You listen well,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk. “That’s good.”

You should have said something. Anything. But your tongue felt heavy, thoughts tangled into knots as you stood frozen in place.

Yunho tilted his head, eyes flickering over you in a slow, deliberate sweep. His gaze was too knowing, too intimate—like he had already stripped you down in his mind.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come,” he continued, his tone almost teasing. “But then again…”

A pause.

Then—

“I know what you want.”

Your breath caught.

Yunho chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied. He took another step forward, closing the distance between you inch by inch. He was so tall, so effortlessly imposing, and when he finally stopped in front of you, the heat of his body was enough to make your skin prickle.

“You didn’t think I’d notice you, did you?” His voice dipped lower, smooth like honey but edged with something darker. “You wrote all those filthy little things about me, and yet, when I look at you now…”

He reached out, fingers brushing along the side of your jaw, so lightly it almost wasn’t a touch at all.

“You look so shy.”

A slow smirk curled at his lips as he leaned in, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“Tell me, baby.” His voice was a whisper now, barely audible, but it wrapped around you like a vice.

“Do I match your imagination?”

Your breath came shallow, uneven.

The question sent a violent shiver through you.

You wanted to deny it. To shake your head, pretend you weren’t completely unraveling under his gaze. But the moment you tried to step back, his hand moved.

A firm grip on your chin.

Not rough, not forceful—just enough to keep you still. Enough to make your knees weaken.

He hummed, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. His thumb brushed along your lower lip, and his gaze darkened.

“You’re not answering,” he murmured. “That’s cute.”

Your heart pounded so hard it hurt.

This was dangerous. This was a situation you had only ever fantasized about—except now, reality was so much worse. Because in your fics, Yunho was just a character, a version of him built from your own desires.

But this Yunho?

This Yunho was real. And he had read everything.

His thumb pressed against your lip, just enough to make you part them. The smirk that followed was pure sin.

“Mm,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “I wonder…”

He let the word hang in the air as his fingers trailed down, a featherlight touch along the column of your throat. A tease. A warning.

“Does the way I touch you match your imagination, too?”

Heat pooled deep in your stomach, a slow, unbearable ache curling at your core. Your body betrayed you before you could even think—back arching just slightly, like you were reaching for more.

Yunho saw it.

And he liked it.

A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest, deep and pleased. “Ah,” he sighed, thumb tapping against your chin. “So responsive.”

Then, just when you thought he might close the distance completely, he pulled back just enough. Enough to leave you breathless, desperate.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was deceptively gentle, like he wasn’t the same man who had just whispered filth into your ear moments ago.

Then, his lips curled again. That smirk.

“I should get going,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just ruined you with a few words and touches.

Your body screamed in protest, but before you could even think of stopping him, he was already turning toward the sleek black car parked nearby.

The door opened. He paused. Then—

He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes locking onto yours one last time.

“Don’t stop writing,” he murmured. “I like seeing what you come up with.”

A slow, teasing wink.

And then—

He was gone.

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - one (j.yh)

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you've never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he's so much more than a crush, he's your soulmate. one | two (section 1) (section 2) | three | four | five 🔗read on ao3✨ across stardust pinterest board

note: please enjoy this truly self indulgent romance. will be four five parts total, and i'll post each as soon as they are ready to go. happy comeback week, and i hope everyone enjoys this 💖

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, a lot of fluff and tenderness, love at first touch, shared feelings/emotions/physical sensations, anxiety/stress over what to do, reader's family isn't the best, kq is not the best company for the purposes of this fic!, light smut including - heavy makeouts/grinding, hand kink, size kink, phone sex, sexting, fingering, jacking off, dirty talk, praise, use of good girl, use of pet names like baby/jagiya/sweetheart. basically this fic is an excuse for me to write star-crossed desperate love so i would say it's the literal opposite of a slow burn lmao

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 17.9k

It’s eleven in the morning when your day starts, hiding in the green room of a concert venue in Berlin, and the day feels lost already. With Eunji and Dahan ill that only leaves you and Iseul to handle makeup for all eight members and with how exhausted you are from yet another night of little sleep, you don’t know how you’ll be able to keep up. You’re trying to stay awake, but while the members are all out on stage learning their marks and rehearsing the improvisational moments for this tour stop, the green room is quiet and you keep nodding off. 

“Bad night?” Iseul’s voice startles you out of one of your dips into sleep and your body jerks up right. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, “hey,” 

“Here,” She pushes a bright can into your hands, an energy drink, “you need this.” 

“I need to be sedated,” You grumble, taking it from her, “the time difference is never this hard,” 

“Mm,” She shrugs, “it’s unpredictable,” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I guess.” 

The thumping music outside as they run through another track is starting to give you a migraine. You take a long sip of the drink and then leave the can on the table in front of you, choosing instead to hide your face in the sleeves of your sweatshirt and let out another long sigh. 

“Girl,” Iseul nudges you, “you look like shit. Your station looks like shit.” 

“Thank you?” 

“In thirty minutes we’re going to be busier than we’ve been since that Inkigayo stage for Answer,” She points out and you grimace at the reference. Back then it really was just a skeleton staff and one of the makeup artists quit on the spot, too stressed to continue the work and walking out in the middle of doing Yeosang’s foundation. 

What a mess those old days used to be. Nostalgia sometimes makes you forget how late those nights were and just how impossibly tired you had been. This feels too reminiscent of that for sure. 

Iseul taps your shoulder to get you to lift your face as she continues, “I know you’re tired, but I can’t do this shit on my own. I need you.” 

“Okay,” You breathe, scrubbing your hands over your face to jolt yourself awake as best you can, “you’re right, I’m sorry,” 

“Don’t be sorry,” She gives you a sympathetic smile, “I get it.” 

This tiredness feels different though, so deeply ingrained in your body. Something’s been keeping your adrenaline running like a long, drawn out anxiety attack and you can’t understand it. You’ve been on tour before, you’ve been on planes, you’ve had long days, and you’ve worked with this exact group for years. There’s nothing on paper that should be making you so anxious, but the threads of it are humming in the deep back of your brain even now. 

“Come on,” Iseul prompts again, pulling you to your feet, “let’s get you in gear.” 

“Right,” You take another long sip of your energy drink and pray it starts kicking in soon and that the effects won’t make you feel crazier, “let’s do this.” 

She helps you put your station together with ease and then pull yourself together. Within those precious thirty minutes of calm before the storm you’ve downed two cans of pure caffeine, assembled your station and strapped on your brush belt, and tried to make yourself some form of presentable by slicking your hair back into a smooth knot and adding a coat of lip balm. 

As always, the boys have used the ladder game to determine hair and makeup order which means those at the bottom of the list have more time to relax fresh-faced on the couches before getting poked and prodded and wrapped up like presents for thousands of screaming fans. With only you and Iseul available it’s about to be a race against the clock to get them ready. 

Their managers hustle them from the stage to the back rooms where the rest of the staff waits, and the members gather around you and Iseul and your makeshift makeup stations. 

“Alright,” Iseul says as the members quiet down, “we’re down some staff as you know,” 

They nod attentively and you trade a close lipped smile with Hongjoong. 

“We’re just going to do the best we can as quickly as we can,” She explains, looking down at their names on a slip of paper, “Wooyoung, Yeosang, Jongho, San,” she recites, “you’re with me in that order.” 

You run through the names on your slip, “Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, that leaves you with me.” 

Iseul nods as you finish your words, “Please be ready to slot in when the person in front of you is finished, and then you can go directly to wardrobe for your soundcheck outfits,” 

“We’ve got it,” Hongjoong nods, “and if there’s anything you both need,” 

“We’ll be fine,” Iseul assures him, “but it’s definitely going to be cutting it close,” 

“We should get started,” You cut in, “if you’re ready?” 

Hongjoong jumps to your chair immediately and Wooyoung steps to Iseul’s, and before you know it you’re off. 

The room is alight with activity while you both work, only you don’t have a relaxed pace and only two members to perfect. You’re used to working with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, they’ve been your assigned members for as long as you’ve worked with Ateez, but when staff shortages or timing gets tight, it can be a bit of a free for all. 

You stay focused and execute each member’s makeup like a well rehearsed dance, and you do your best to ignore the buzzing anxiety in your veins. For a little while, you handle it like a professional. 

When Yunho finally settles into your chair, about a single second after Mingi leaves it, the exhaustion careens back into you sideways. It takes you a minute to prep your tools this time, and you’re pretty sure that without the artificial pick me up of the energy drinks you’d be passing out on the spot. 

You steady your hands against the vanity in front of you and take a deep breath, and when you look up you catch Yunho’s eyes in the mirror, a tiny crease of concern between his brows. 

“You okay?” He checks. 

You give him a smile, albeit a tired one, “The jet lag is really hitting this time,” you explain, “but I’m fine,” 

He looks sympathetic immediately, “Same for me, I feel like I’m barely sleeping,” 

“That’s not good,” You tell him as you prep your stainless steel palette, “you have a long night ahead,” 

“I’ll sleep tonight,” He says, “I’m sure,” 

“After dancing for three hours I’d hope so,” You smile and pick up your first set of tools before turning towards him. 

“Do you have anything you could take?” He asks, studying your face, “A sleep aid?” 

“I usually don’t like to,” You admit, “I always feel groggy the next day,” 

“And we have another show,” He finishes for you, his lips coming together in a thin line as he thinks. 

There’s nothing really for him to do, but it’s kind of him anyway to be so concerned. They always are, this rare group of eight idols who remember staff birthdays, bring coffee on the early morning schedules, and always, always take extra time to clean up after themselves so it’s not left to anyone else. 

You take a step closer towards him and glance over his bare face and then it occurs to you, “You know what’s funny?” 

“Hmm?” He tilts his face up to you. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever done your makeup before,” You smile, it’s a ridiculous thought. 

“No way,” He blinks, thinking back, “it’s been… forever, are you sure?” 

You nod, “You’re usually with Eunji,” you tell him, “and even when we’ve swapped around, I don’t think so. I think you’re the only member I’ve never done,” 

“Wow,” He laughs, eyes bright, “well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.” 

“Is there anything,” You start to ask him if there’s anything he prefers, anything special about his makeup that he gets done with Eunji that he asks for, but Iseul catches you idle as she pats foundation onto San’s forehead and answers for you. 

“His skin gets dry,” She jumps in, “don’t use too much powder,” 

Yunho grins, a laugh on his lips at the directness of her words. 

“And don’t use that oil,” Iseul adds, “that primer oil you like, he’ll break out by tomorrow,” 

“Thank you, Iseul,” Yunho says, and you watch San’s face as he stifles a chuckle. 

“Noted,” You smile, and you swap out two of the products in your hands before taking up your position by his side again. 

You’ve gotten used to working with idols, to working with Ateez and with Yunho specifically, and yet when you get this close a little flutter of nerves rocks through your belly. He’s handsome, and if you’re being honest he’s just your type. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or this weird feeling in your chest that you’ve been dealing with all week, but for the first time in a long time you think about what it would be like to kiss his lips. 

“How do you want me?” He asks, breaking your thoughts, and you have to shake off the impending blush at the way his words make you feel. You have work to do, and you had gotten over your silly little crush on him years ago, you need to get a grip. 

You recover fairly smoothly though with a quick smile, “Right,” he’s never worked with you before, and he’s looking to you for direction, “head back a bit, please, and eyes closed,” 

“Alright,” He follows your instructions to the letter. 

“Okay,” You tell him, “primer first. Let me know if anything bothers you,” 

“Mhm,” He hums and stays relaxed. 

He has the loveliest eyelashes, that’s the thought that echoes through your brain as you start working on him, and you wish it never occurred to you at all because you keep glancing up at his closed eyes. He lets you work, he knows you’re exhausted so he doesn’t push you for conversation, and you’re strangely grateful. You know he’s chatty sometimes in the chair, an extrovert through and through and always keeping Eunji company or talking with the member beside him, but right now he keeps still and gives you respite on a hard day. 

You’re patting foundation into his skin with a large paddle brush when Iseul interrupts your thoughts, “Do you have that eggplant liner?” 

“Check my table,” You offer, but with how sluggish your brain is feeling there’s no way you remember a single thing on your station without looking.

“Mm,” She pivots around and pokes through the products and tools behind you, and you glance over as San opens his eyes to watch Iseul rifle through things. 

“Damn,” She mutters, “how much time do we have?” 

“Um,” You glance down at your watch, “twenty?” 

“Perfect,” She scoots behind you and disappears into the hall, no doubt to find your traveling makeup case and the liner. 

You sigh, chewing the inside of your lip at the idea that you only have twenty more minutes, but you really don’t want to rush and have his makeup melt off on-stage. 

“You’re fine,” San assures, his body angled towards you and Yunho now while he waits, “don’t worry about the clock,”

Yunho hums his agreement from below you, “Plenty of time,”

You refocus on Yunho’s skin and notice a long black and white hair from the paddle brush affixed to his cheek, mixed in with the foundation. You take the brush again, wiping off any excess foundation and checking to see if more fibers are loose, and then you work the brush against his cheek in an attempt to free the loose hair but it isn’t coming off easily. Every attempt you make just slides the hair into a different spot on his cheek and covers it with more foundation. 

“Um,” You usually don’t like to do this, but you might have to, “can I just…”

His eyes open but his expression stays smooth, “Can you?” 

“Sorry,” You shake your head, “do you mind if I touch you?” 

“You already are,” He smiles, a small, amused crease between his brows you’ll have to pat out momentarily. 

You tuck your brush away and gesture with your hand, “You just have a hair,” 

“Oh,” He laughs, “of course, yeah,” 

You’re just supposed to touch his cheek, brush away the hair with the pad of your finger and then get back to work, that’s all it is, so you’re completely unprepared for the feeling that rockets through your chest when your skin finally touches his. 

Yunho gasps softly as your fingers brush over his cheek, his eyes blowing wide and his expression blanking, and it’s the only indication you have that he feels something too. A tightness wrenches in your chest, like someone pressed something hot and hard directly into your breastbone and your stomach does a somersault. Your ears are ringing, and you’re pretty sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest now that it’s started up again. 

The tattoo on your chest feels warm beneath your blouse. 

“You,” Yunho manages, his voice shaky and you know for sure he felt it too. 

You rock back a step, “I don’t understand,” 

“Shit,” Someone else says, and then you realize that it’s San and you’re not alone with the only other person in the entire world, you’re in the middle of work in front of at least one other person and it’s only your existence that just got tilted on its axis. Yours and maybe Yunho’s. 

“Oh,” You glance to the side, taking in San’s wide eyed expression, “oh my God,” 

“I’m not insane, am I?” Yunho smiles, his focus entirely on you, and you think you might just pass out, “You felt that?” 

There’s a noise in the hall and San scrambles up to his feet, “Iseul,” he says heading for the door, “do you need help looking?” 

He’s covering for you both, but thoughts are slow to form and all you can manage is blinking at the man in your chair. 

“You did, right?” He asks again, eyes soft and hopeful, and then his fingers brush over the center of his chest. Squarely over his breastbone.

He’s yours. 

You want to reach out and yank up his shirt, check the tattoo over his heart to see if it’s the same looping knot shape as yours, but you don’t need to see it to know for sure. It’s him. 

San says something about forgetting the liner altogether, a little louder so you both know the room is going to get crowded again, and you shake your head to jolt yourself out of your paralyzed position. 

“You didn’t?” His hand falls. 

“I did,” You rush to correct, “I’m, I don’t know,” 

He nods, wetting his lips and shifting in his chair. He moves to reach for you, but reason and sense click back into place immediately and you realize that no matter what your tattoo feels like and no matter what this means, you’re at work and about to have a very private moment in a very public place if you’re not careful. 

You shake your head with a glance at his hand and jerk your head towards the door, “Later,” 

“Right,” He leans back from you, “of course, right,” 

Footsteps to your right draw your attention and Iseul is huffing, checking her own watch, “We’ll do brown,” 

“That’ll be fine,” San assures her, but his eyes are glued on the pair of you. 

Iseul moves to step around you again and realizes you’re just standing there, “What’s with you?” 

“Sorry,” You manage, blinking hard and refocusing, “I just got dizzy,” 

It’s not entirely a lie, given that you felt the entire earth shift under your feet thirty seconds ago and your life is completely changed. Dizzy is the least of how you’re feeling. 

Yunho’s expression shifts immediately, concern across his face, and he curls his fingers into his palms to keep himself from reaching out again, from being too familiar. 

“Oh,” Her eyebrows raise high, “do you need me to finish Yunho?”

“N-no,” You take a breath, “just give me one second,” 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Yunho asks, and in the back of your brain you wonder if his voice has always sounded this good. 

“Here,” San cuts in smoothly, cracking the seal on a fresh water bottle and passing it over to you, “do you need to sit a minute?” 

San’s hand rests on your upper back between your shoulders as you take a long sip of water, the cold shocking your brain back to reality in exactly the way you need. 

“Thank you,” You tell him honestly, “I think I’m okay, just a headrush,” 

San nods, and when you refocus your eyes on Yunho, you almost laugh. His gaze is squarely on San’s hand where it sits on your back, and you watch the fast, silent exchange between the two men when San drops his hand and Yunho realizes his own reaction. He blushes, ears running red and he dips his head to avoid both your eyes. 

“Iseul,” San steps around you both and distracts your friend, “ready to wrap?” 

“Yeah,” She agrees, “let’s finish up. You’re sure you’re okay, y/n?” 

“Mhm,” You hardly trust your own voice, but you nod anyway, “I’m good now.” 

Yunho tilts his face back up as you step close, and the tension between you is so palpable and so familiar that you can hardly breathe. Your tattoo feels warm and heavy and something tells you that his does too, you can see it in the tenderness of his brown eyes. 

“Dizzy?” He asks quietly, keeping his words just for you. 

You shake your head, “No,”

“That’s good,” He murmurs, but he lets whatever words he wants to say rest on his tongue. 

Your tattoo throbs and you don’t dare touch his bare skin again. 

His makeup takes fifteen more minutes and his eyes don’t stray from your face the entire time. You barely finish on time, and wardrobe is standing by to get them into their first outfits of the night, so when you put the final touches on he’s already being pulled out of the chair before you have a chance to say anything. 

You want to corner him and ask him exactly when he’ll have time to talk later, but despite working together for the last few years, you and Yunho aren’t that close. You’re friendly, but you’re not familiar enough to casually ask what he’s doing later and not have it seem strange. While friendships between staff members and idols are not discouraged, even between the opposite sex, being overly familiar or suggestive would certainly leave a question in everyone’s minds, and you don’t want to draw attention to yourself that quickly. 

This is between you and Yunho, no one else. You don’t want an audience for this. 

So he goes, pulled away by wardrobe and his other members, fitted quickly into his Soundcheck outfit. He has his game face on, so do all the members, and you watch him disappear down the hall without a second glance back at you. 

You collapse into the couch and press your eyes closed, focusing on the singular feeling of heat and soreness from your chest.

A soulmate. 

The tattoo on your chest was one you barely looked at anymore, too focused on living your life to sit in the mirror and wonder about the person who would be your other half, the person that would slot into the gaps in your spirit with a simple brush of skin on skin. But now, it aches. It pulses to remind you that it’s real and that you’ve found him. 

Everything in your life is about to change. Has already changed.

On the couch you don’t sleep as much as you disassociate, still stunned, your buzzing brain filtering out everything Iseul says as she cleans up around you and preps both of your brush belts for touch ups. There’s such a small amount of time between Soundcheck and the concert that you barely get to process, you just exist, playing the moment you touched him over again and again in your mind. Despite how utterly changed you feel, the world is just continuing on around you like a regular day.

Once again, you and Yunho miss each other for every brief moment between Soundcheck and stage.

The shift happens in the wings, in the underbelly of the stage where you and the other staff members for hair, makeup, and wardrobe wait for any last minute quick fixes. The eight of them are almost ready, pumping themselves up between rows of technical equipment and stage scaffolding. 

There’s so much commotion around you and yet your eyes are drawn to him like a magnet, the feelings you once had for him coming back to you full force in a blurry torrent. 

He shifts, stretches, swallows hard, and then looks up directly into your eyes. There’s a question in them that you can’t read, but you manage to smile. 

His shoulders relax just a little. 

You raise your fist, giving him the gesture for ‘fighting’ and he returns it with a wide grin. 

“Alright,” Hongjoong’s voice cuts through, the final step of their pre-show ritual as the concert hall starts to roar, “huddle up.” 

The eight of them circle up with each other, one leg in and one out. 

“We’ve practiced hard,” Hongjoong starts, patting his members on the back, “let that practice pay off, and have fun out there,” 

“Okay!” San hypes them up, getting the tension high. 

“Let’s give it our all,” Hongjoong continues, a wide smile on his face, “fighting!”

They echo it back, and a tense feeling starts to roll in your gut. 

“Alright, one,” Hongjoong starts the count and you feel the tension in your own body rising, enough to make you take a soft step back from the group, “two,” 

On three they chorus it, moving their feet in a synchronized step,  “Eight makes one team! Fighting!” 

They break apart, clapping each other on the back, and your eyes meet Yunho’s for one more fast second before he’s jogging after the rest of the members and finding his mark on the stage risers. 

You feel the sensation of his eyes on you even after he’s gone. You have the length of four songs and their opening ments before members start swapping out on stage for makeup touch-ups and technical adjustments. The sound of the audience is intense, the start of the first song keying up, and you stumble back from your post to get a breath of air away from it all. 

There’s a bathroom along the hallway two doors down from the green room that’s meant for staff and you blissfully find it empty. With shaking hands you flip the lock and sink down into a crouch, your back braced against the wall as you breathe through the sudden wave of feelings filling your chest. 

Adrenaline, that’s what the bitter taste on your tongue is. 

Your heart is thumping, double time like you’re running a marathon, and then you realize it. You can feel him, even now with the bond between you unfulfilled you can feel his emotions coming to you like a wave. Adrenaline, anxiety, euphoria, exhaustion, it all roils through you and you brace your hands on the wall to get your composure back. 

They say the first time you feel your soulmate link it takes you by surprise, but this is an intensity you couldn’t have imagined. It’s all encompassing and honestly terrifying, and you’re struggling to understand which parts of you are you and which are him. You can’t conceive of how an accepted bond would make this feeling stronger when it already feels like your emotions and his are knit together so tightly. 

Anxiety strikes down the link and you realize it’s not stage fright, it’s for you. He can feel your panic and your fear just like you can feel every ounce of his performance and if you don’t get yourself in check you’re going to be distracting him even more than you already are. 

You yank yourself up off the floor and collapse against the sink, turning on the cold water tap and taking slow and steadying breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Counting slowly, relaxing your body with every pulse of oxygen through your system. You hope he can feel it, but you have no idea how this all really works. You’ll have to call your sister when this is all said and done, find out what she felt when she met her wife, but right now in this bathroom in Berlin you have to do this by yourself. 

You hear the pulse of another song thrumming through the stadium as they keep performing, and you feel the thundering beat of his heart in your chest, but you breathe into it this time and try to keep yourself calm for his sake. You splash cold water on your face, keep breathing low and slow, and eventually you pull yourself back up to standing tall to look at yourself in the mirror. 

You look the same as you did a few hours ago, before him, but the warmth in your chest is still present and you wonder if that will ever go away or if that’s just a permanent part of the link. 

With shaky hands you unbutton your blouse and pull your bralette down in the center to reveal what you already know is there. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. 

The tattoo nestled at the base of your sternum is the only one you were born with. Every other line of ink on your body was put there with intention, but this one you’ve had for as long as you can remember. The maedeup knot is small, but intricate, and until this moment it had always been colorless. Loops of black and gray twining together to make a rounded diamond, unbroken with no beginning or end to the threads. 

Now the ink has changed, a deep red against your skin that makes the knotted josephin soulmark look even more traditional, but the skin is slightly inflamed, tender to the touch as you brush your fingertips along it. It feels like a fresh mark, not something you’ve had since birth, but considering how it’s changed, maybe it is new. A soulmark shifting color is common, you know that, but it still stands out so starkly against your skin and your other black tattoos. You can’t look away from it. 

A pounding on the bathroom door makes you jump and you fix your shirt, covering the mark back up and buttoning it away. You wonder if Yunho’s mark is the exact same like other couples you know and if it too turned red, if it’s warm to the touch, if he felt you brush against your mark through the link. 

“y/n?” A voice comes through the door and you shut off the tap. 

“Coming!” You wipe the excess water on your hands onto your jeans and take one last, fast look to make sure your mark isn’t visible, before opening the bathroom door. 

Wonshik, one of their many managers, is waiting for you on the other side. His eyes narrow when he sees you, “Are you ill?” 

“No,” You assure him. 

“You’re sure?” He presses, “We can’t afford to lose any more staff or risk getting the members sick if you are,” 

“I know, Wonshik,” You nod, “I promise I’m just tired, jet-lagged. I was putting cold water on my face, that’s all. I’m not sick,” 

He exhales in relief, his expression softening, “Thank God,” he says, “I can only take so many surprises.” 

A little sickness is nothing compared to a staff member and an idol under a dating ban being soulmarked, but you hold your tongue. 

“They’re about to come off,” He says, “Iseul was looking for you, she seems like she might start climbing the walls if you don’t get back to help her,” 

“No, of course,” You start back towards the side stage entrance, “I lost track of time, but it won’t happen again,” 

“Make sure you sleep tonight,” He adds, following you closely, “no sleep means no immune system, and no immune system means sick.” 

“Don’t worry,” You promise, winding your way through the dark backstage, “you won’t lose me,” 

“I better not,” He sighs, and then Iseul comes into sight. 

“There you are!” She hisses low under her breath, “I was about to have a panic attack,” 

“I’m sorry, I’m here, I’m good,” In the commotion, your brain starts to ease into normalcy. You’re used to this pace, the speed of lightning fast makeup touch-ups and assisting wardrobe when things start to go awry with their quick changes. The audience feels none of this, they just see smooth change-outs on stage and cool idols in new clothes, but backstage is a wild flurry and it always puts you on an entirely different plane of focus. 

“Here we go,” A stage director starts, gathering everyone’s attention, “four minutes… starting…” 

The stage goes dark and in the venue a video starts to play to the crowd to fill the space between costume changes. You prep your hands, making sure your kit is ready to go and you see the wardrobe specialists out of the corner of your eye readying themselves to help facilitate the quick change. 

Suddenly they’re here, and the stage director interrupts once more, “Now, four minutes people, let’s go.” 

“Mingi,” He gets to you first and he crouches down to drop his face to your height, “stay still one second,” 

He says nothing, but he nods as you pat powder across his forehead and the bridge of his nose, checking him over for any other defects. He looks good and you nod, “Go, go,” 

Mingi peels off to the left of you and you hear the sound of fabric swishing as he and Wooyoung rip off the top layer of their outfits behind the privacy screens and trade garments with the wardrobe team. It’s a fast shuffle, but you stay focused on who’s in front of you. 

“Seonghwa,” You wave to him, pulling blotting tissues out of the pack on your belt, “here,” 

He knows this drill well, you’re used to working with him and you have a clean routine down. He blots the sweat off his brow himself and starts to unbutton his jacket while you shift focus to Yunho. 

For a split second you almost forget what happened earlier in the buzz of backstage, but the minute your eyes hold on his awareness floods you. 

“Hey,” You say, but there’s a time clock shout behind you and you beckon him down, “come here, let me fix things,”

He drops down to your height just like Mingi did and stays steady while you work, but his eyes flick up, “You’re okay?” 

“I’m good,” You nod, “don’t worry,” 

His expression clears a little and you guess you have your answer about the feeling of the link going both ways. 

Hongjoong clears his throat behind you both, “We’re short on time,” 

“Am I good?” Yunho checks. 

Your eyes flick over him fast, “Yep,” 

He’s out of your eyeline a split second later, and you’re grateful for the distraction of both Hongjoong and Seonghwa, otherwise you’re sure you’d dwell a little bit too long on the fact that Yunho’s half naked next to you, privacy screen or no. 

“One minute,” The stage director announces, “everyone’s doing great,” 

The boys are almost done, flying through the last of their zips and getting their hair smoothed down by that team as they finish. You put the last pat of powder on Seonghwa’s nose and give him a nod before he’s gone too, dropping his jacket as he goes and giving you all a quick flash of his bare back. 

You turn back towards the group as they prepare and your eyes zero in on Yunho again. His expression is serious, it’s his game face before he gets back out on stage, and you watch as he corrects the placement of his in-ears and ensures that his mic pack is secured. He runs through his pre-stage ritual and you can’t help but be a captive audience. 

“Good work,” The stage director says as Seonghwa rejoins the eight, fully dressed and ready for stage, “fifteen seconds for act two,” 

The crowd heats up again as the video starts to fade, and the members do their final checks. Yunho doesn’t look back at you once, his eyes forward and focused as he and the other members find their places on the rising platform that will take them back out to the main stage. 

You can see him a little though, in the low light in his white trousers and blue satin shirt. He lifts his hand, adjusting his microphone once again, and then as he drops it back to his side he lets his fingers skim over the familiar hollow of his chest. 

Your mark warms, you feel it as if it were your chest he brushed his fingers over, and your breath stops. 

The platform rises, the crowd roars, and your heart starts beating to a new rhythm. 

He really is yours. 

It turns out that later means much later. 

You manage to get out of dinner with some of the other staff members, but that just leaves you anxious and alone in a hotel room trying and failing to eat room service. Iseul would be back soon to take up her place in the other bed, and you’re starting to realize that you don’t have Yunho’s number. 

Now that emotions are a little smoother, you can’t feel him. Or maybe you can, but it’s so faint that you’re not sure. All you know is that he’s definitely in the hotel, but that’s partially the solid feeling of your link with him and partially the YouTube live being broadcast from Seonghwa’s room where all of the members are. 

You put the live on and watch, feeling strangely disconnected from the men on screen. You’ve known them for years, but suddenly with this new truth everything feels foreign and confusing. 

You should call your sister, but it’s only six in the morning in Korea and even though this is an emergency of life altering and epic proportions, you can’t bring yourself to wake her on a Saturday. 

You try your best to eat the pasta you ordered and watch as the live eventually ends. Your phone dings and for a split second you think it will be him, but it’s just Iseul telling you she’s heading back to the hotel. 

A soft knock at the door makes your stomach lurch. 

You’re frozen. 

There’s another knock, a little firmer this time but then you feel the warm touch against your mark and you’re on your feet, your hand on the door handle before you can think. 

He looks tired, that’s your first thought. His face is bare again, and his eyes are rimmed in a little bit of red like he just removed the day’s stage makeup. Despite all that, he smiles when he sees you and sighs, leaning against the door frame, “You’re awake,” he says. 

“I waited,” You manage. 

He grimaces, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” his eyes flick behind you into the room and he swallows, “are you alone?” 

“Yes,” You nod, “but not for long, Iseul’s on her way,” 

He nods, “Come to my room?” 

“Are you sure?” Your eyes widen. 

“We need to talk,” He nods, “can you get away for a little while?” 

Iseul will probably expect you to be asleep, but you can’t let this go until morning. If you’re ever going to sleep you need to talk to him now. 

“I’ll think of something,” You tell him, “what room?” 

“2606,” He answers, reaching into his pockets and producing an envelope from the front desk, “take this,” 

He passes you one of his room keys and you nod, “I’ll be up in five minutes, but you should go,” 

“Okay,” He breathes and neither one of you makes a single move to step away from the door until a sound down the hallway pushes you into it. 

“2606,” You repeat and he nods, swiftly moving down the hall before anyone can see him standing at your door. 

You have no idea what you’re going to tell Iseul that would make sense, but you don’t care. You stack up your room service for collection, kick on a pair of slippers, and give yourself the fastest look in the mirror ever on your way out the door. You want to be gone before she gets back, the idea of facing her and lying ten times more difficult than an empty text. 

No problem - I can’t sleep, I’m just going to walk a bit. Don’t wait up.

You don’t stick around to see if she’ll believe it. 

You try to seem casual when walking to Yunho’s room, like it's yours. You don’t want anyone to give you a second glance and wonder where you’re going, so you keep your head up, smile at anyone you pass, and when his door comes into view you scan the card like it’s any other day. 

When the heavy door shuts behind you, you sigh. 

“God, finally,” His voice startles you, and you look up to see him pacing, “I’ve been going insane all day,” 

Your shoulders drop, you aren’t alone, “Me too,”

He runs a hand through his black hair and finally stops pacing, but doesn’t come any closer, “So, this is real?” 

“It feels pretty real,” 

“How did we never feel it?” He manages, “I’ve known you for years,” 

“We’ve never touched until today,” You tell him, and that has to be the reason, it’s the only thing that makes sense. You’ve been turning it over in your mind all night, and with the exception of bumping into him last week in the hall, it’s all been polite bows and waves. 

“How is that even possible,” He breathes, “team dinners? Holiday parties? Work?” 

“Skin to skin,” You murmur, “I think that’s what it was,” 

“I had no idea,” He swallows, gesturing in the negative space between your bodies, “I always liked you, but I thought it was just, you know, a crush,” 

“You what?” Your eyebrows raise. 

“Well,” He backtracks, “not like that, it’s not like I’ve been holding a candle.” 

Your face stays neutral, but he grimaces at his own words. 

“I’m fucking this up,” He takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I’m really nervous.” 

Your stomach warms, “Yunho, it’s okay, honestly,” 

“I just meant I’ve always liked you, I thought about asking you out when our contracts loosened up if you were still single.” He clarifies and then you watch his face blanch, “You are single, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” You nod, “we don’t have to worry about that,” 

He nods and you see him searching for the next thing to say, the right thing. 

“Your mark,” You cut in, taking a few steps further into the room, “did it change?” 

“Completely,” He nods, “did yours?” 

“Yeah,” You wonder the right way to ask him if you can see. 

“Does it feel,” He starts.

“Warm?” 

“Yes,” He nods, “and tender?” 

“Like a fresh tattoo,” You take another step in. 

“I’ve never gotten a tattoo,” He confesses, “but I’ll take your word for it,” 

“Can I,” The words are stuck on your tongue, “maybe this is weird, but I mean, I guess we’re soulmates,” 

“You want to see it?” He surmises. 

“Only if you’re comfortable,” 

His lips quirk, “I’m comfortable,”

Heat twists in your gut and you wonder if he can feel that too. If he does he doesn’t say it, but you watch as he pulls the black t-shirt off over his head. 

You’ve never seen his chest. Any inch of his skin except for his neck and arms really, and you guess that was part of keeping his soulmark covered. Idols always do, even when they’re in the most inconvenient locations, there’s always makeup or flesh colored tape or editing to take care of it. The idea that someone could replicate it and try to fake a connection is far too real for someone famous. 

He drops his shirt onto the bed and pink tinges his cheeks as he gestures towards it, “Well,” 

Your mouth drops, it’s the exact same, down to the size and the placement and every little loop and you stumble forwards to get a better look, “Yunho,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Has yours always been red?” You reach out, your fingertips hovering just over it. 

He shakes his head, “Not before today,” 

“Mine’s the same,” You tell him, your eyes glued to his sternum, “just the same,” 

You know every centimeter of this tattoo. You’ve studied it a thousand times in the mirror, tracing over every curve with your eyes, trying to find the place where the cord starts and ends. He sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers brush gently along his mark, and you feel the ghost of the sensation against your own. 

“I can’t believe we never knew,” You murmur, sliding your finger along each rounded edge. 

“You feel that?” He asks, “Right?” 

You’re nodding and moving to tug off your sweater before you can even think it through. He starts to shake his head, to say that you don’t have to, but you’re already tossing the sweater next to his discarded shirt and tugging down the front band of your bralette so he can see the whole mark. 

His eyes flick over you fast, but with the matching mark in front of him he doesn’t focus on anything else, “It’s exactly the same,” 

“I know,” You reach for his hand, but the minute more of your skin connects with his you feel your chest throb and you drop it like it burns you. 

He winces, touching his chest again, “Is it supposed to hurt?” 

“In the beginning,” You nod, “I think?” 

“Does it always feel like that?” 

“I’m not sure,” You admit, “I was going to call my sister and ask, but it’s too early at home,” 

He smiles, “Your sister found her soulmate?” 

“In highschool,” You smile back, “they’ve been bonded together since they were eighteen,” 

“Older or younger?” He asks, and you realize just how little you know about each other despite how long you’ve worked alongside him. 

“Younger,” You say.  

“I have a little brother,” He replies, “but he’s still in school,” 

You nod, painfully aware that this is such a strange conversation to have with your shirts off just standing in the middle of a hotel room, but somehow it’s easier than any date you’ve ever had. 

Your eyes flick from his eyes to his mark and he reaches out a hand again, “Can I?” 

Your heart quickens and you nod. 

His fingertips graze over the edge of your mark, mimicking your touch from before, sliding along the edges of the tattoo. His eyes widen and you know he’s feeling the sensation in his own mark, a mirror image of each other. 

“This doesn’t hurt,” He observes, letting his fingers linger. 

“I think we have to get used to each other,” You remember that fact from somewhere, “the link has been dormant for a long time, I think it takes a minute to get used to having it,” 

“Makes sense,” He murmurs, his eyes still squarely on your mark, “I’ll be honest though, I still really want to touch you,” 

“Yeah?” Your voice is thready. 

His fingers fall away and he nods, “Don’t you?” 

“Yes,” You agree, painfully quickly. 

He swallows tightly and takes the smallest step forwards, before offering out his hand, palm up and waiting for you.

Your eyes flick from his face down to his outstretched hand, and you reach for him slowly. You let your fingertips skate over the skin of his palm, down each digit, ghost the pads of your fingertips together. It’s warm, sharp and dizzying even just to brush against each other. 

You wonder what more will feel like. 

“Can I try something?” He murmurs, his voice nearly a whisper even though you’re all alone. 

You nod. 

He wets his lips unconsciously and moves a little closer, your bodies now only inches apart. Anxiety, anticipation, thrill, it all runs through your gut like a whirling wind and you shiver at the torrent of his emotions, a grin breaking out over your face. 

His smile mirrors yours, “Your heart’s beating a mile a minute,” 

“You can feel that?” 

“Yeah,” He breathes, grin widening, “this is crazy,” 

You laugh, a little nervous, a little elated, and he finally reaches out his hands. 

He takes a steadying breath, and then his fingertips brush along your jaw. 

You suck in a sharp gasp at the sensation, electric and hot, the feeling rocketing through your entire body. You tilt your face up to his as he continues his gentle touches, your eyes watching him as he studies you. His plush lips are parted, brown eyes wide with awe as he grows a little bolder to brush over your cheeks, down your throat, and back up to your jawline. 

“Feel alright?” He murmurs. 

You nod into his touch and he starts to lift off but you reach for him, “Don’t stop,” 

Your hands land safely on his hips, still covered by his sweatpants and you watch him swallow again at the sudden contact, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Warmth fills the bond, no doubt the first threads of his arousal, and you wonder if he can feel your own. If he can sense how much he’s affecting you with just his fingertips on your face. 

His hands settle back on your skin, this time smoothing across you with his palms, one hand cupping your cheek and the other sliding over your shoulder and down your bare back. 

You can barely breathe, the room so silent and around you, like the only thing in the universe that exists is the two of you orbiting each other, standing at the precipice of something so catastrophic and wonderful. 

Your hands adjust, resting on his taut abdomen as you move a little closer together, and his eyes flutter shut as he breathes through the sensation of your hands on him properly for the first time. 

“You’re so warm,” You murmur, your hands softly tracing his abdominal muscles, instinct guiding you to touch more of him, seek out every inch of him as you unconsciously make a map of his body in your mind. 

He hums pleasantly, eyes reopening, “So are you,” 

He feels so right, so essential under your touch. 

Yunho wets his lips softly with his tongue, and a nervous thrill passes through your belly. His eyes flick over you, the pad of his thumb sweeping a line over your lips. You suppress a needy sound, still trying to keep your head amidst the thrumming emotions and steady thumps of your heart. 

He doesn’t stop, just stroking your skin slowly, fingers on your back pressing just a little as he sighs. 

“Yunho,” You shiver. 

“Cold?” He gravitates a little closer. 

“N-no,” Your body is all but pressed flush against him now, and you have to lean your face up even more just to see him as he stands tall over you. 

“I…” He starts to say something but lets the words die off, like he’s thinking something through, but then he sighs, “forget it,” 

His lips are on yours. 

Yunho lifts you, wrapping his arms around your back and tugging you up into his embrace. You gasp against his mouth, finding his shoulders to hold onto as one of his arms bands around your lower back. 

The kiss is shattering, the world tilting once again, a new frequency humming between your two bodies. It’s hot, your skin buzzing from the contact, but the way you move together is fluid and easy. Your legs part naturally, settling around his hips and his free hand finds your plush thigh as he tugs you into place, slotting your bodies together like they were always meant to be. 

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against your lips when he draws in a quick breath, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. His nose nuzzles against yours, and his lips part at the same moment yours do, tongues meeting in the space between your mouths to flick against each other. 

“Don’t,” You push closer to him, fingers knotting into the back of his hair as you kiss him back. 

He hums, the hand on your thigh sliding up to cup your ass and you shiver as his wide hand stretches across your backside, squeezing your pillowy flesh. 

A tiny whimper does leave you then, liquid heat spreading through your body, the combined sensation of both your arousals giving you a headrush. 

“So beautiful,” He sighs between kisses, “you’re so beautiful,” 

“Yunho,” Your voice is thready, his name a stretched out sound. 

He holds you close, nearly stumbling as he moves. You blink your eyes open just as he spins you both, pushing you up against the hotel wall and pinning you in place with the weight of his body.  You should slow things down, but nothing in your life has ever felt this good and you find yourself diving back to meet his kiss again. 

 His arm slides out from behind your back as he pushes closer, your body fully supported by the flat of the wall behind you and his hips under yours and one hand firmly anchored on your ass. With his arm free he cups your cheek, a pleased sound on his lips as he dips you back into the wall and deepens the kiss. 

Heat blooms through you, your kisses getting needier, artless and desperate just to get a little closer together. The kind of kissing that sounds as messy as it is, tiny pants and moans muffled between you, skin on skin, tongue on tongue. 

“God,” He shudders, his lips breaking away, but his eyes only flick over you for a second before he dives back in. This time his lips travel, hot kisses across your jaw and back to the hollow of your ear, down your throat as he holds you a little higher on the wall for the right access. 

You grip his shoulders with one hand and lock your fingers in his mess of black hair with the other, your head falling back against the wall. He pants against your throat, a soft groan as he kisses, and your stomach tightens pleasantly. 

“Y-Yunho,” You gasp, arousal rolling through you, and unconsciously you rock your hips, desperately seeking some kind of friction. 

He hums low in his throat, kissing back up your neck fast to get to your lips again and his hand slides off your cheek as he crowds you tighter, bracing himself against the wall above your head. His abdomen presses against your core, and even through layers of fabric you feel his heat. Hungrily, you roll your hips again and catch a little pressure, moaning in earnest against his mouth. 

Yunho makes a tight sound and then he breaks the kiss, his forehead pressing hard against yours as he takes in slow breaths, his body all but trembling with need as he holds you. 

“We need to slow down,” He manages. 

You can’t find words, not yet, but you nod against him. 

“You deserve better,” He says, “dates, presents,” 

You laugh softly, your hand in his hair softening from a grip to a gentle hold, carding through the long locks at the base of his neck, “I don’t need all that,”  

He smiles wide, brushing off your words, “Still,” He sighs, still recovering from the heated make out, “I think I have more self control than fulfilling our bond by fucking you into the wall,” 

Reality bleeds back in at that. Soulmarks were just that, indicator marks. A way to find your person amidst a sea of thousands, if not millions. All the shared sensation and emotion a precursor to something more permanent and binding, something only sealed together by sex. 

You lift your head up, and he leans back to mirror you. 

“I lost my head there,” You admit, warm blush in your cheeks, “I didn’t know it would feel like this,” 

He smiles, and you take in his expression. His hair is a mess, mussed and disheveled and his face is pink from his nose down to the dark, well-kissed curve of his lips. His bare chest is flushed bright pink and his eyes are bright and warm. You fight the urge to kiss him again. 

“Me either,” He shakes his head, “it’s incredible,” 

“Overwhelming,” You nod, exhaling softly. 

He makes a soft sound to agree and then starts to push back from the wall gingerly, letting you slowly unwrap your legs from his waist and ease down to the floor. 

He lets you go when you’re steady on your feet and clears his throat, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants and running a hand through his tangled locks. He’s hard, that much is obvious from the distinct outline of his cock through the gray fabric, but you do your best to look away and not think about how thick and heavy it looked just from kissing you. 

“Jesus,” He adjusts his sweats again, “sorry,” 

“It’s fine,” You cup your own cheeks with cool fingers, “I promise you’re not the only one,” 

His eyes hold yours for a lengthy beat and then he swallows, taking a wide step back and nodding, “Right,” he shakes his head, “we’re supposed to be slowing down.” 

“Slow,” You lean against the wall behind you, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to steady your thumping heart. 

“I’m going over here,” He grins and walks to the far wall by the door to the bathroom, leaning back and crossing his own arms, “we really should talk,” 

A pulse of anxiety flickers through you, and you realize just how quickly you went from his hotel room door to nearly falling into bed. He’s handsome, a kind man, your once upon a time crush, and certainly fated to be a good match for you, but that doesn’t mean you should throw out good sense and rush things. No matter how much your impulses were screaming at you to do just that.

You try to ignore the fact that there’s a bed between you, and you nod, “You’re right,” you finally say, “we barely know each other,” 

Yunho’s smile fades just a bit, “I wouldn’t say that,” 

“We’re coworkers,” The words tumble out, “I know what we’re both feeling, but,” 

His brow furrows as he thinks through your words and he shakes his head, “y/n,” he cuts you off, “do you believe in soulmates?” 

“Yes, of course,” Even if you hadn’t before, the way you’re feeling now would be enough to dispel any skeptic. 

He takes in a quick breath, the sound sharp as he draws it through his teeth and he cocks his head slightly to the side, “You’re scared,” he massages the top of his sternum with his fingers, and you recognize your own chest is tight with anxiety, “I can feel it, talk to me.” 

The instant vulnerability of the bond is startling, and you can feel your own expression crumble. It’s suddenly a bit like being an ant caught under a magnifying glass, too much sharp attention all at once and you swallow tightly, eyes flicking away from his tender gaze. 

“y/n,” He murmurs, “I’m not pushing for more, not tonight,” 

“Yeah,” Your voice is soft, too quiet for your own liking. Something about the way he sees you so clearly and so quickly makes you feel exposed, nervous and strangely childlike. 

“Hey,” He breaks through your little thought spiral, “look at me,”

You straighten up again, finding his eyes. 

“I’m just happy I found you,” He tells you, and you feel the truth of it in your gut, “we can figure everything else out together, and at our own pace, okay?” 

Relief spreads through you, the knot in your chest loosening, “Promise?” 

“Promise,” He nods, raising one hand with his pinky extended, “I just want us to try,” 

You nod, extending your own pinky to seal it, “Me too.” 

He smiles at that, “Barely know each other,” he scolds softly, “I’m offended.” 

“Oh yeah?” Tension bleeds out of your shoulders. 

“Mhm,” His expression is full of cheek, “I’m the one with a crush, remember? I notice things,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly and your arms relax from their tight position crossed over your chest, “What things?” 

“Let’s see,” He starts, and for a brief moment you think maybe he’s bluffing, but the moment he starts you melt and he holds your gaze as he warmly recites all the little things he’s noticed about you over the years. 

“You only wear silver jewelry,” he notes first, nodding towards you. 

Your tight hands uncurl. 

“You have a ridiculous sweet tooth,” The more he talks the more he relaxes against the far wall, “and you start getting flushed after the second shot of soju, you really are a lightweight,” 

“You always pick a Big Bang song for karaoke, and you’re late to work every Monday,” He laughs a little at that and keeps going, “you don’t wear a lot of color but when you do it’s red. We’re both from Gwangju but you moved to Seoul when you were five,” 

Your heart starts to beat a little faster, warmth filling you again and you don’t know if it’s your affection or his anymore, but it hardly matters. 

“Um,” He takes a deep breath and glances away for a moment and then catches more threads from his memory, “you’re a Sagittarius, you’re a runner, and the last book I saw you reading was Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. I bought it, but I haven’t had a chance to read it just yet,” 

“Yunho,” You find yourself smiling, a hand over your surprised lips. 

“I’m just saying,” He shrugs a little, “we aren’t strangers. I know this is scary and fast and going to change the rest of our lives,” 

Elation, pure joy, spills over unfettered from his side of your new emotional tether. 

“But I like you,” He confesses, “I have for a while, and this,” he brushes his fingers along his soulmark, “just changes the timeline.” 

He’s yours. 

You push off the wall, crossing the room and all but leap back into his embrace, your arms looping around his shoulders again as you push up on tiptoe to kiss his lips. 

“This is real,” You murmur. 

“Yes,” He cups your cheeks, nodding as he pecks your lips again. 

“You’re mine,” 

“Yes,” He grins. 

“Oh, this is crazy,” You laugh, forehead against his again. 

“We’ll go slow,” He assures you again, “we’ll figure it out together,” 

“Together,” You nod. 

He dips low once more, this kiss more tender, and he separates you both before things can heat up again. “Hmm,” He glances across the bed and makes a small face at the time displayed on the digital clock, “did you eat?” 

“I tried to,” You confess, “I was nervous,” 

“You need to eat,” He snaps up his black shirt from the bed and slips it back on, and your chest warms. It’s strangely domestic, strangely commonplace like you’ve been in this position a thousand times before. 

Yunho adjusts his shirt and then kisses your hair as he passes by you, padding over to the hotel microwave and searching through the assorted snacks and instant meals, “It’s too late for room service,” 

“I’m okay,” You pull your own sweater back on and sit on the edge of his bed. 

“y/n,” He glances back, a softly scolding tone. 

“Really, you need to sleep,” You offer. 

He dismisses that thought, “But I’m hungry, eat with me?” 

You concede, and while he starts whipping up two servings of ramen, you wonder if this is what he’s going to be like. It makes sense, he’s always been a caretaking kind of person, but having it so tenderly directed at you feels right. 

“When we get home,” He says as he pours in the spice packets, “I’ll take you somewhere nice,” 

“This is nice,” You smile. 

“y/n,” He sets the ramen on a side table and sits next to you, “this is cup noodle from a hotel microwave,”

“The company is nice,” You take the ramen happily though, and tuck into the warm meal.

“It is,”

“Mm, you know,” You slurp back some noodles and softly clear your throat, “you weren’t the only one with a crush,” 

He freezes, letting his noodles drop back into his cup, “What?” 

“I’ve always liked you,” Your own confession feels easier after his, “I put it aside since we work together, but I guess, I mean, what I’m trying to say is that we both felt it before the mark, you’re not alone in that.” 

 “I had no idea,” 

“I’m very professional,” You tease him lightly. 

He nudges you and tucks back into his noodles, “How long?” 

“Hmm,” You get more comfortable, crossing your legs and scooting back a little onto the mattress, “I thought you were cute when we first met,” 

“God,” He groans, “we were such kids,” 

You nod, swallowing another bite, “Mhm, you had that blonde hair,” 

He laughs. 

“I remember thinking, ‘that one’s trouble’,” You confess. 

“Me?” His eyebrows perk up, “I’m perfectly nice,” 

“Trouble as in you’re my type,” You roll your eyes, “but I don’t think the crush properly came until later. You’ve always made me laugh, and when I realized how I was feeling I just did my best to keep some distance,” 

He nods, face getting a little serious, “I know what you mean,” 

That knowledge leaves you both a little quiet. The late hour, the adrenaline come down, all of it barrels into you at the same moment as the next anxious thought. How in the world were you both going to navigate this with a contract as tight as theirs and the public eye always watching? 

“Yunho,” You murmur, the last of your noodles left to go cold as you sit with that thought, “Are we going to be able to figure this out?” 

“Figure what out?” He looks genuinely confused by your question, “Us?” 

“You’re an idol,” You nod towards him, “I’m staff,” 

He rests a hand on your knee, “We’ll be fine,” 

“Aren’t your contracts,” You trail off, letting him fill in the blanks. 

“They’re strict, yes,” He nods, “year seven,” 

Dating, romance, even the perception of it was more than discouraged by companies in this industry, their artists contractually obligated to be single and available and dedicated only to their fans. Five years would have been the industry standard to prevent any idol from being caught out with a partner, let alone a potential soulmarked one, but seven is excessive. 

You blanch, “That’s almost two years away,” 

“We will find a way,” He says, “we’re not the first people in the industry this has happened to,” 

“Really?” You perk up, “Who?” 

He falls short, “Well, I don’t know exactly, but it’s bound to have happened.” 

“And then ruined their careers,” You groan, flopping back flat on the mattress and covering your face with a hand, “which is why we’ve never heard of them,” 

Yunho laughs, earnestly laughs, and takes the half empty ramen cup out of your hand to discard, “Maybe, but for now, let’s just stay positive. Get to know eachother better,” 

You nod. 

“Nothing can change the fact that we found each other,” He points out, dropping down onto his side on the bed next to you, “and I’m okay with that.” 

“So we just lie to everyone?” You chew at the inside of your lip, staring up at the white ceiling. 

“Hey,” Yunho’s fingers tuck under your chin and draw your eyes to him, “I know you’re anxious,” 

You sigh, letting his softness calm you again. 

“I know,” He repeats, “I am too, but we don’t have to decide anything tonight. We’re both tired and it’s been an emotional day,” 

“Okay,” You nod, “okay, yes, you’re right,” 

His thumb strokes over your cheek again, and you watch him exhale and sink further into your touch, “Will you stay tonight?” 

That wakes you up. 

Your eyebrows raise, “Stay?” 

“Just to sleep,” He assures you, “I just… I don’t want to be without you yet,” 

“I need to get back before Iseul wakes up if we do that,” You note with a grimace. 

“What time?” He glances back to the clock. 

“Seven,” You say, “her alarm is set for seven-thirty,” 

“We can do that,” He grabs his phone off the side table and sets an alarm, “we’ll get up,” 

The pull between your bodies is so strong you’re fairly sure you would have stayed no matter the consequences, but you nod, “Then I’ll stay,” 

He grins and pushes himself off the bed, “I’ve got clothes, if you want to get comfortable,” 

“Sure,” you sit up and wait for him to find things in his still packed suitcase. 

“Um,” He pulls a pair of black sweatpants from the bag, “these should work, and if you get cold,” 

You smile as he grabs a gray hoodie and comes back to you. 

As you start to pull off your sweater again, he turns around and leaves his back to you, “Sorry,” 

“Thanks,” You chuckle, making short work of changing. You’re swimming in his clothes, but his sweatshirt smells like him and you just want to bury your face into it, “you can turn around now,” 

His shoulders relax as he turns back, and you watch his lips part as he takes you in. 

“What?” 

“You look cute,” He clears his throat, shrugging off his reaction. 

You smile and ease back onto the bed, “Oh, I get it,” you laugh, “is your guy brain on fire because I’m wearing your clothes? Is this some kind of… you won the competition, ownership thing?” 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, kneeling on the bed to shuffle closer, “No competition when you’re literally fated for me,” 

“Right,” You let the word drag out on your tongue to tease him. 

“But I like taking care of you already, and now you’re warm and comfortable,” He collapses next to you onto the mattress with a sigh, “and I know I don’t own you, but you are mine, just like I’m yours now. I won’t apologize for liking you in my clothes or in my bed, for liking when you look like my girlfriend,” 

Warmth blooms in your cheeks and you duck your face into the sheets. 

“Now come get under the covers,” He maneuvers the duvet, “it’s late, you were dead on your feet today,” 

His voice is so warm and familiar, and you slide into the covers beside him. 

In bed you keep a little distance, and despite the number of times both of you say that you should go to sleep, your conversation is almost impossible to stop. Yunho holds your hand in the middle space of the mattress between your bodies, and in the dim lighting of the hotel room you whisper thought after thought back and forth. A million things coming to mind you need to tell each other so suddenly now that you’ve found each other. 

As you talk his fingers travel, restlessly stroking your skin, up and down your arm and tapping out patterns. When his palm slides back and forth over the sharp lines of the tattoos on your upper arm, and you feel the question slipping out of your lips and revealing more about yourself than you intended before you can catch it. 

“Your parents,” You blurt out, “will they be happy?” He’s spoken about them so much over the past hour that you can’t help but ask him that question point blank. 

“So happy,” He responds with ease, a laugh on his lips, “they always worried me being an idol meant I’d never be able to find the one and settle down, they’re going to love this story,” 

You smile at the easy way he calls you ‘the one’, but the question you really asked still remains unanswered and you exhale softly, “But,” you manage, “will they be happy with me?” 

Yunho stills, reaching across the bed to hook his finger under your chin and draw your eyes up to his again, “Very happy,” he says, “just like I am.” 

Your muscles relax, his words a soothing balm, and you adjust your position on the pillow beneath you, “Just checking,” 

“Mhm,” He studies your face, “jagi, why wouldn’t they be happy with you?” 

The endearment slips off his lips with ease, and a burst of warmth spreads through you. You’ve never needed pet names and softness like this from a partner, but from him it makes your heart quicken. 

The momentary elation fades though, and his question comes back into your mind. You take a deep breath, you owe it to him to tell him now, “My family won’t be happy,” 

“With me?” His eyebrows raise. 

“It’s me,” You shake your head, “my parents have difficult ideals, and I’ve never pleased them. It wouldn’t matter who you were, they… they’ll find a way to not be happy for me.”

His eyes soften, and his thumb strokes along your jaw, “I’m sorry,” 

“It is what it is,” 

“Are your parents soulmates?” He asks softly. 

You shake your head, “No, they don’t really believe in soulmarks,” 

You watch his eyes widen in surprise. 

“Unless,” You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “the match is ‘fortuitous’,” 

“For status?” He surmises. 

“Status, money,” You shrug, “connection. But I think I could marry the next president and they’d still find a way to be disappointed in me,” 

His jaw flexes tense for just a moment, before his expression smooths over again. 

“Anyway,” You clear the bad thoughts away as quickly as they came, “my sister and I never went along like they wanted, like my cousins and the rest of my family, so we are the great disappointments. It’s not… it’s fine, but, I guess you should know before we, you know,” 

He smiles, a bit of amusement in his expression that you can’t place, “Did you think having bad parents would scare me off?” 

“It could,” 

“No,” He slides a hand under your side and tugs you across the mattress to press a fast kiss to your lips, “it never could.” 

“But I’m,” You start, all the reasons why a partner might care ringing in your ears. 

“Beautiful?” He cuts you off, “Just my type? If it’s anything else I don’t want to hear you say it,” 

Your stomach flip flops hard and you push lightly against his chest to get him to stop. 

“The thing is,” He brushes your hair back from your cheek, “my parents are soulmates. I grew up in a house full of a lot of love, even when they were being strict and scolding us.” 

Your smile at his warm expression. 

“So I know they’ll love you,” He explains, “they know what this feels like, what it means. I have plenty of family for us both,” 

Your throat constricts, tears threatening for a moment. 

“Your sister, though,” He grounds you out of the bad thoughts without even thinking, “you two are close?” 

“Very,”

“I’d like to meet her,” He smiles. 

“You two would get along great, my sister and her wife both, actually,” 

Yunho nods, listening attentively, “Do they have kids?” 

“Not yet,” You groan, “but I’m dying to be an auntie,” 

His thumb drags a comforting line across your cheekbone, his expression warm and affectionate, “Cute,” 

You sink into the pillows, a yawn creeping up to your lips, “She’s going to lose her mind when I call her,”  

“Yeah?” 

“Mm,” You huff a laugh, “she thought that when I started working here I should have found an inconspicuous way to bump into all of you to test possible bonds. She’s going to be riding the ‘I told you so’ train.” 

“She’s funny,” He smirks. 

“Very,” You sigh, unconsciously cuddling into his warmth. 

“Has it been a while since you’ve seen her?” He asks softly, adjusting his arms around you so that you’re cradled against his chest with the pillows at your back. 

“Mhm,” You yawn again, the warmth of his body settling the last of the adrenaline inside you, “a while,” 

“Let’s find a day off after the tour,” He tucks the duvet around you. 

“Yeah?” Your eyes feel heavy. 

“Yeah,” He kisses your forehead. 

“Yunho,” You yawn again, dipping your forehead into his chest, “God, I’m so tired again,” 

“Mhm,” He yawns too, “me too, jagi,” 

You hum softly, fingers slipping under the edge of his shirt just to feel a little skin, “I like that,” you murmur, “I like you,” 

“I like you too,” He chuckles, “now go to sleep,” 

A piece of you wants to protest, wants more time cocooned in this day with him, but something about his body feels so right. After a week of sleeping poorly, your body tight and anxious and heart fluttering for no reason at all, when he touches you, your mind goes blissfully blank. 

Your muscles relax, your breath dropping low and soft in your chest. 

Nuzzled against his tattoo, you drift.

You’re supposed to wake up to an alarm. Early enough that you could slip back into your hotel room and your own bed to yawn and stretch next to Iseul and make her believe you were there the whole night. That’s what was supposed to happen. 

Instead, you wake to the heavy sound of a hotel door and Seonghwa’s voice, Yunho jolting awake beside you. 

“Oh my god,” Seonghwa says for what sounds like the third time to your fuzzy sleep-addled brain, “oh my god?” 

“Hyung,” Yunho pushes himself up, his arms unwinding from around you, “hey, don’t freak out,” 

“Don’t freak out,” Seonghwa’s eyes blow wide, “are you fucking kidding me? Hongjoong is going to kill you,”

“You don’t understand,” Sleep is still heavy on him and he shakes his head to try to pull himself away. 

“I understand plenty,” Seonghwa counters, “how long have you been lying to us?” 

His reaction surprises you, and you ease yourself up to sit next to Yunho. You’re not sure what to say or not say, you don’t know what they’ve discussed in the past when it comes to dating and relationships, but by  Seonghwa’s outburst you can guess it’s honesty at a minimum. 

Yunho’s face falls, “No, it’s not that,” 

“I can tell you what it looks like,” Seonghwa lowers his voice to what amounts to a stage whisper. 

“Hyung,” Yunho rubs his eyes, running a hand through his mop of black hair. 

“It looks like you��ve been sneaking around,” He continues, “how long have you two been fucking?” 

“Hey,” Yunho’s voice sharpens, and his hand crosses your body to anchor on your opposite thigh. 

Seonghwa’s eyes track it and he shakes his head, “This is so stupid,” he steps back in surprise, “you’re both being so, incredibly stupid.” 

Yunho gives you a squeeze and opens his mouth to reply but Seonghwa keeps going. 

“Naive is what it is,” 

Irritation bubbles in your gut and you can’t stop yourself, “Seonghwa, will you shut up for one second?” 

He stops in his tracks, mouth falling open, “What?” 

“Can you please,” You hold his gaze, “please, just listen to Yunho for a minute before you jump to conclusions.” 

He shifts, taking a step back and crossing his arms, and then he looks to Yunho. 

Yunho finds your eyes quickly, silently asking, and you give him a nod. 

“Okay,” Yunho runs a hand through his hair again, “I’ll just say it.” 

Seonghwa waits, his expression completely neutral except for the irritated corner of his lips.

“y/n is my soulmate,” Yunho squeezes your thigh again and you slip your hand into his to twine your fingers together, “we didn’t know, but now we do.” 

Seonghwa’s brows go high, shock filling his features. 

“We’re not hiding,” You add, “we just… it’s just,” 

“How long?” Seonghwa manages. 

“Soundcheck yesterday,” Yunho says, “we haven’t known long enough to lie, hyung.” 

“You’re sure?” He looks between you both, and you know what he’s thinking. How could it be possible to know each other for years and not know. 

“We’re sure,” You answer confidently, calmly, “I swear,” 

“It’s real,” Yunho’s thumb strokes across knuckles, “it’s very real.” 

Seonghwa swallows, taking in the news and sinks back against the hotel dresser, “Well, fuck,” 

“Yeah,” Yunho laughs. 

“You were off timing yesterday,” Seonghwa points out, “and distracted,” 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Yunho grimaces. 

“No, but,” He shrugs, “I know you and you’re never off time.” 

“It wasn’t easy to focus on the show yesterday,” Yunho admits. 

“I’m sorry,” You nudge him with your shoulder, knowing a huge portion of that must have been the panic flooding his side of the link. 

He shakes his head, “There’s nothing to be sorry for,”

When you look back up, Seonghwa is smiling and he sighs, “Oh, you’ve both got it bad.” 

“Obviously,” You hide your face in your sweatshirt sleeve. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Seonghwa asks, “Because you can’t act like this around anyone else,” 

Your mouth feels dry. 

“We don’t know,” Yunho answers, “we have to figure that out, for now I think we just try to keep things normal.” 

Seonghwa nods and then leans forward, “Listen, I know you’re not asking for my advice,” 

You both wait. 

“But you're my brother,” Seonghwa says unequivocally, “so I’m going to give you some anyway.” 

Yunho nods. 

“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” Seonghwa points out, “and I’m sure it will be hard to act like acquaintances in front of everyone, but you have to do it, at least until you make a plan.” 

“Yeah,” Yunho’s cheeks are a little pink and he squeezes your hand. 

“No one fires the idol for things like this,” He reminds you both, “so for her sake, put it away for today.” 

“He’s right,” You nod, “today we go back to coworkers,” 

Yunho draws your clasped hands up and kisses your fingers, “Okay,” 

“You’re lucky I offered to check on you,” Seonghwa sighs heavily, “if any of the managers came in,” 

“Check on me?” Yunho perks up at that, “Hwa, why,” 

Things come into focus for you at that moment, how bright the hotel room is with sunlight, how well rested you really feel. You twist in the bed and look at the digital clock, “Oh no,” 

“You were late,” Seonghwa explains, “we figured you overslept, I offered to use the spare key to get you up.” 

“Fuck,” Yunho curses. 

You both slept straight through Yunho’s alarm. 

“Iseul is going to fucking kill me,” You roll out of bed, your hands breaking apart as you scramble for you phone, “what the hell am I going to tell her?” 

Your phone reads nine-thirty. In thirty minutes you’re supposed to be packed into a van and on the way to the venue and when you look at the collection of notifications your stomach churns. 

Three calls from Iseul, and a lengthy string of text messages. 

Did you already get up and get ready?

Your work bag is still here…

Not funny, girl, where are you?

Did you make it back last night? 

Can you answer me?? 

I’m getting worried. I haven’t heard anything - You haven’t even read these? 

You better not be dead in a ditch, I’ll kill you myself. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Your hands are trembling as you tap out the fastest reply - Alive, be right there.

Yunho’s a whirlwind behind you, stripping out of his sleep clothes and yanking on whatever outfit is at the top of his suitcase, “It’s fine, it’s going to be fine,” 

“Sure,” You search the floor for your jeans and dart into the bathroom, “my best friend is going to murder me though,” 

You change at lightning speed, swapping his sweats for your jeans and then tying up your hair into a messy bun before pushing back out into the main room. 

“Everyone’s downstairs,” Seonghwa offers, “you shouldn’t run into anyone on the way back to your room.” 

“Good, okay, good,” Your heart is pounding, “where’s my room key?” 

“Here,” Yunho darts forwards and finds the little envelope, passing it to you, “take a breath,” 

“I have to go,” You manage, “I have to think of something,” 

“Don’t kiss and tell,” Seonghwa offers and he’s being funny but it’s vaguely helpful. 

“Wait,” Yunho grabs your hand and tugs you back, snapping your phone out of your hand. 

“Yunho, I don’t,” You start to say but he waves you off. 

He types fast, adding himself as a contact in Kakao Talk, “My number,” he explains. 

Seonghwa huffs a laugh. 

You take the phone back and tuck it into your pocket, “I’ll message you later,” 

“Good,” He dips forwards and presses one warm, tender kiss to your lips, “now get out of here,” 

You kiss him back, just once and fast, a little shred of self indulgence before you have to act like he’s just another guy, and then you’re darting out of the room, shouting back a thank you at Seonghwa as you go. 

You navigate the halls fast, and opt to take the stairs to get down one floor faster and more inconspicuously. You take a deep breath when you get to your hotel door, and then you dive. 

“So you are alive,” Iseul’s waiting, just like you thought she might be. She’s sitting on your still made bed, her phone in her hands and a tense expression on her face, “I was just about to tell the managers you were missing,” 

“I’m so sorry, seriously, I didn’t mean to worry you,” You take a few steps into the room. 

Her eyes flick over you, and you realize at the moment her eyes widen that you’re still wearing Yunho’s hoodie, your sweater still discarded on his bedroom floor. 

“You hooked up with someone?” Her voice spikes, “Are you kidding me?” 

Thankfully the hoodie is plain, just a heather gray with no identifying attributes that scream his name, but you’re still swimming in it and it’s clear you’re rumpled from bed. 

“Listen,” You hold up your hands, “I didn’t mean to not text you, I just fell asleep,” 

“With some guy?” She stands. 

“Yes,” You settle on some version of the truth. 

“Who?” She flounders, “We’re supposed to text each other,” 

And you always did, when either one of you went home with someone there was always a little preemptive safety report. A name, an address, a shared location, something so that you weren’t completely alone in the world with a strange guy. 

“I’m sorry,” You say again. 

She studies you, and it’s like she’s looking through you. 

“Oh my god,” Her eyes widen, “we know him.” 

“Iseul,” Your cheeks heat. 

She points at you, “I’m right!” 

“It’s not a big deal,” You skirt around her words. 

“The only reason you wouldn’t text me is if you were with someone we both know,” She narrows her eyes, “so give it up.” 

“I can’t,” You press, “leave it,” 

“Why are you being so weird?” 

“Iseul,” You sigh, avoiding her gaze, “I just woke up in a panic, and I have like fifteen minutes to get showered, can you give me the third degree later?” 

“I’m not letting this go,” 

“Yeah,” You pull off Yunho’s sweatshirt and head to the bathroom, “I know, but we have work.” 

“Work with a coworker you slept with,” She stands in the doorway while you start the shower, and you realize her tone isn’t so much as angry anymore but probing. 

“I didn’t sleep with him,” You groan, “well, I guess I did, but we didn’t have sex, okay?” 

“That’s awfully cozy for a one night stand,” She crosses her arms, “unless you’re seeing someone? Are you seeing someone?” 

“No,” You test the water heat and unbutton your jeans, “I swear I’ll explain another time, but can you just drop it for today? Or do you want to stand here and watch me shower?” 

“Fine,” She concedes, “you will tell me?” 

“I swear,” You nod, “I want to tell you, but I’m not ready yet, okay?” 

Her eyes soften up at that, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” You nod, “but I’m having big feelings about it and I need to work it out,”

“Oh,” In all the years you’ve known her, she’s never seen you in love or even close, and she just blinks, “got it,” 

“Can I shower now?” You gesture towards the running water. 

“Yeah,” She steps back, “yeah, but I’m still mad you didn’t text me.” 

“Okay,” 

“And I’m still going to guess who it is,” She smirks. 

“Fine,” 

Her smile widens and she rolls her eyes, “I bet it’s one of the BB guys, isn’t it? You always like a dancer,” 

She turns the corner before she can watch you blushing harder, so nearly on the money with her guess, but you put it all out of your mind for now and focus on your day. You’re late, and it’s about to be another long one. You’ll have time for everything else later, if you can just keep your cool. 

Work is bizarre to say the least. You and Yunho both do an excellent job of not looking at each other except for when he’s in your makeup chair, and you’re getting better and better at ignoring both San’s and Seonghwa’s nervous glances. 

This time you start the makeup early, less time pressure with the schedule adjustments, and the night goes off without a hitch. Soundcheck to stage to VIP benefits, it’s a whirlwind and you’re grateful for the distractions everywhere you look. 

You can still feel him, emotions from his side of the link ebbing and flowing throughout the day, but the sharp intensity of yesterday has dulled a bit after your night together. In quiet moments you find yourself thinking about his lips, or the way his hands held you as you tumbled into sleep, but you push it down and stay professional. 

As the show ends, Iseul ropes you into team dinner, desperate to observe who you interact with and how, still on her quest to find your mystery bed partner, but the boys aren’t there and so there’s nothing for her to really see. 

Later, with Iseul passed out from one too many shots of soju, you slip back into Yunho’s hoodie and cuddle into the warmth of your own bed. You need more sleep, you know that, but your brain isn’t cooperating. You toss and turn in the sheets, body feeling like a taut cord, and all you can think of is him. 

You miss him. 

It’s not even two days of having him in your life like this and you feel nervous and achy without him. There’s no way you’ll survive two years of this. 

Over an hour passes as you sigh, changing positions again and again, and then your phone finally buzzes. You scramble to see if it’s a message from him, nearly dropping your phone in the process. 

Can’t sleep? - He must be feeling your restlessness. 

Not at all - You reply, chest feeling warm at the contact. 

Little bubbles pop up immediately to indicate he’s typing and then another message pops on your screen - You’d think after last night we’d both be exhausted.

So you’re as awake as I am? 

Just can’t relax. I liked having you here last night. - He confesses. 

You roll over in the bedding onto your front and push the pillow under your chest before you keep texting - I liked it too. I’d come up except Iseul wouldn’t lay off guessing who I was with this morning. 

Oh? Did she guess correctly? - You can practically see the smirk on his face. 

Nope - You tease back. 

Was she upset? - He asks. 

At first, but I told her I would tell her soon I just needed some time - You reply. 

That’s good, honest. - His message makes you smile. 

How was Seonghwa? - You tap out. 

Fine…. stressing and acting like a hyung, you know - He says. 

You smile and type out another message - Is he keeping this to himself for now?

Yes - Yunho’s message comes in, and then another - For now, he knows we need to decide things first. 

That’s good - You send back. 

Things lull for a moment, and you try to think of something more to say, but Yunho swoops in with a question that makes you bite your lip to keep from laughing - Who did Iseul guess you were with? Was I even on the list?

I thought you’d be happy she didn’t guess - You reply. 

Bubbles appear immediately, then another message - I’m a little offended, I’m the obvious choice.

Why’s that? - You tease him. 

You feel something warm in your chest, and his next message flies back - I thought I was your type? 

You stifle another laugh - You are, she’s not very observant.

So who did she guess? 

Your belly flip flops and you hide your face in the pillow for a moment. His obvious jealousy, even just to tease you, is making your heart quicken and you can’t stop yourself from making it harder on him. 

You take a breath and reply - About half the BB crew and a few of your managers.

The replies don’t come for a moment, and you nervously refresh the chat. 

Finally a message comes in - I’m trying to think of something funny to say, but I’m actually just irrationally jealous. 

She was just teasing, no need to be jealous - You smile into your hand. 

Doesn’t matter - He says - Now I’m just here alone wondering which of our coworkers Iseul thinks you have chemistry with

He is jealous. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the swooping sensation in your belly and press your legs a little tighter together. If you close your eyes you can feel the echo of his hands on you from last night, and all you want in the world is for him to come down here and kiss you hard like that again. 

With a slow exhale you return to your phone - Don’t be jealous, Yunho. We both know I’m yours.

Yeah? - His reply comes after a beat - No need to be jealous then.

Exactly - You reply. 

I bet you like it a little though - His message flies in as yours sends.

You feel warm all over and you run a nervous hand through your hair before replying - No, I don’t. 

Jagi, you forget I can feel how worked up you’re getting. 

Your stomach clenches, drops and twists. He’s going to be the death of you and you’re still just flirting.  

You work up the courage and finally send your reply - You’re the one that pinned me to the wall last night. 

I’ve been thinking about that all day - The message reply is fast. 

You smile and bite your lip, snuggling further into the mattress and trying to ignore the growing pulse between your thighs - You did seem distracted during rehearsals.

You feel warmth in your chest, and you know exactly how much your flirting is affecting him. Another text pings through and you shiver when you read it - How could I not be distracted with you there? All I could think about was the way you said my name last night. 

Your thighs press together - Yunho?

Yes, jagi?

Or more whiny, was it? Yunho-ya? - You type it out fully, emphasizing the extended sound, knowing exactly what he wants to hear from the way he gripped you last night. 

The room is suddenly hot, and your heart beats faster to sync with his. 

It takes a moment for him to respond, bubbles popping up and then receding again and you wonder how he’s lying in bed. If he’s hard already, if he’s palming himself? You wonder if he sleeps naked when he’s alone and youre core clenches, arousal pooling in your gut and you know he can feel the threads of it. When he finally presses send on his message you have to cover your mouth to keep quiet. 

Feeling needy? Are you squirming around in that hotel bed wishing for me, sweetheart?

You feel that message from your top to your toes and you steal a fast glance at the bed next to you. Iseul is sound asleep, turned away from you and snoring softly, and you let out a relieved, shuddering breath. 

You could pump the brakes here, tease him and find a way to say goodnight, but you simply can’t. Need and arousal overwhelms you and you tap back your reply fast - I’ve been aching all day.

Do you have headphones? 

The question catches you off guard, but you write back - Yes, airpods.

Put them in - He says, and you swallow tightly, reaching for the little headphone case on your bedside table. 

Your fingers are shaking as you take them out of the case and put them in, making sure they’re connected before you reply - Done. 

His call lights up your phone, ringing in your headphones and you swipe to answer with a panicked glance at the bed next to you, but Iseul sleeps on, none the wiser. 

“y/n?” His voice is so rich and quiet, a little raspy edge after singing all night and you nearly moan. 

“Hi,” You whisper as soft as you can, “I can’t,” 

“Don’t talk,” He soothes you, “don’t wake Iseul up, I’ll talk to you and you can text me back, okay?” 

You minimize the call and open your chat back up, sending him a quick emoji to acknowledge his words. 

“Perfect,” He laughs softly, “this is way easier than texting. Listen, I know we said slow, but I’d love to help you relax if you want that. If not, I can just say goodnight, it’s up to you.” 

You exhale softly, a needy thrill in your gut - Let’s relax together. 

“Oh,” He sighs pleasantly, “yes, I’d love that.” 

You want me? - You ask. 

“You can feel how much I do,” He responds, “I’m sitting here convincing myself not to come downstairs and get my hands on you.” 

You hum softly, shifting in the sheets and relaxing deeper into the pillows. 

You hear his own breath, the way he parts his lips with a wet sound, “Can you tell me what position you’re in?” 

You tap out the reply - Lying on my front, on my stomach. 

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased, “I bet you look so cute, all twisted up in the sheets and blushing,” 

I was tossing and turning. 

“I bet you were,” He groans a little, “I tried everything. I hit the gym, cold shower, did some deep breathing, but you have me so keyed up I can’t sleep,” 

You send him another emoji, the blushing face. 

He laughs, the rumble of it too deep and warm in your ear with your headphones in. 

You tap out another message - What position are you in? Trying to picture it. 

You hear him shift around in the sheets, “I’m on my back,” 

Wearing? 

He chuckles, “Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking what you’re wearing?” 

I asked you first.

“Fair,” He shifts again, and you picture him restless on his back in the bed you shared the night before, “just boxers,” 

A heavy sigh passes through your lips. 

“And you?” 

You wish it were sexier all of a sudden, but that just wouldn’t be practical in a room with your friend so you tell him honestly - Pajamas, the button down kind, they’re gray. 

“God, you’re adorable,” The covers on his end shift again, “wish you were up here with me.” 

Me too 

“This is probably better,” He says though, “I don’t think I could hold myself back for another night.” 

Me either - You confess. 

“y/n,” His voice warms, low in his chest, “jagiya, can I help you? Can I tell you what I want you to do?” 

Your hands are shaking and you type the reply so fast there’s a typo that you have to fix - Pfease - Please.

He chuckles, “Alright, get comfortable, just listen to my voice, okay?” 

You message him one last thought - What about you?

“I’m… I’m, uh,” He lets out a shaky breath, “I’m already stroking for you,” 

You press your lips together to keep from making a sound, dropping your forehead to the pillow in front of you. 

That’s so hot - You text him quickly when you hear him say your name, probably a little nervous he came on too strong. 

He hums, “Good,” he says, “then don’t worry about me, just listen to my voice.” 

You set your phone to the side, snuggling into the mattress and the pillows just like he asked for, sparing one more glance at Iseul to confirm she’s still completely out of it. 

“Comfy?” He asks when you stop shifting around. 

“Mhm,” You murmur in a whisper. 

“Good,” He sighs, “now slip one of your hands under your cute little pajamas, between your thighs.” 

You slide your arm down, tucking it under your body and into your sleep pants. 

“Under your panties too,” He says, his voice a little husky. 

“Mhm,” You murmur again, following his words. 

“Tease a little for me,” He instructs you, “not too fast, just your fingertips on the outside,” 

You breathe low and slow, gently passing the pads of your fingers over your slit, just barely ghosting against the hard nub of your clit. 

“I bet you look so pretty right now,” He groans a little and you hear the sound of sheets, “you make the cutest faces when you’re feeling good,” 

You make the tiniest noise of acknowledgement, fingers still brushing your cunt. 

“Can’t wait to see you fall apart for real,” He confesses, a strain in his tone as he sighs, and you picture him. His long legs spread wide in the bed, stretching from corner to corner, his boxer briefs pushed down and his hand fisting his cock. 

You’re going to lose it when you finally get to touch him again. 

“You can touch now,” He murmurs, getting your attention back, “are you wet?” 

You push your fingers through your folds and sigh when you feel just how slick and swollen you are. With your other hand you find the phone nearby and tap out a quick message - So wet

“That’s good, that’s so good,” 

Your fingers start to circle on your oversensitive nub and there’s no way he won’t have you coming in five minutes or less with it feeling this good and his heavy breath in your ear. 

“R-rub your clit for me,” He pants and your eyes roll, you can hear the sounds of the sheets rhythmically swishing as he pumps his cock harder, “get your fingers nice and wet,” 

You whimper into the pillow, biting down hard on your cheek to keep yourself in check. 

“Oh, fuck,” He groans, “sound so pretty,” 

You rub harder, faster, your legs stretching wide under the downy comforter to give you better access. 

“Baby,” He gets your attention with that, “push two fingers inside yourself, imagine I’m there with you,” 

You shift, hand slipping lower and body arching to slide your middle and ring finger as deep as they’ll go. You stay mostly quiet this time, but your breathing is heavy and you’re sure he can hear it. 

“Close your eyes,” He murmurs, “picture my fingers,” 

You gasp softly. 

“Grind,” He tells you, “grind your pussy on my palm and feel my fingers fucking you,” 

You bite back a moan, only the slip of a soft sound into the microphone as you start to rock, rolling your hips and working your clit against your hand as you sink into his fantasy. You always took him for soft, the romantic type who’d blush at saying the word ‘pussy’ let alone talking you through what’s bound to be the headiest orgasm of your life, but you’ve never been so happy to be wrong. 

“Yes,” Yunho moans and you shudder, “I can hear you moving, you’re doing so good,” 

Pleasurable stars burst behind your eyes and you grind harder into your slick palm. 

“So good,” He groans and you hear him roll in the bedding, his voice changing to something lower and breathier, and then the rhythmic rock of sheets from his side of the phone tells you all you need to know. You can almost see it, Yunho braced on his forearms, hips thrusting to drive his cock in and out of his hot fist, his face buried in the pillow you slept on the night before. 

Heat melts through you, your body alight, and you grapple to find the phone again - Close

“Already?” He says in a flushed exhale, “You’re so hot, that’s so hot,” 

You need him to talk to you, you need him to tell you what to do, and you whimper into the bedding as you work your body faster up to the peak. 

“You gonna come for me?” He murmurs, “Yeah? Hmm?” 

You drop the phone and press a hand over your lips, stifling the threat of a real moan. 

“Let go,” His voice is so low in your ear you can practically feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, “come for me,” 

Your legs are trembling, knees digging into the mattress and sweat gathered on your brow, and you feel the pressure start to crack open inside you, “Coming,” you whimper into your fingers so he knows, and then it breaks. 

“God, good girl, yes,” He groans, “I’m coming with you, fuck,” 

Your body curls into itself as you release, locking up in pleasure as you feel wave after wave of heat. You bite down on your knuckle to keep from making a sound, silently falling apart, dimly aware somewhere in your gut that half the heat you felt was his, that part of that pleasure was his own. 

Yunho moans in your ear as you ride the sensations, panting and cursing and you can’t wait to feel him pulsing inside you while he sounds this good. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover, but when your brain starts to connect again you realize you’re panting against the cool flat of the mattress and both your phone and pillow are nowhere to be found. You swallow hard and pop your head up, but Iseul hasn’t moved an inch and you thank god for her liberal use of melatonin while traveling. 

In your ear you register the sound of Yunho’s breath and the end of a sentence, “still there?” 

He must have been talking, and you try to focus in on the sound of him now as you slip your hand out from between your sticky thighs. 

He exhales slowly and you hear him shifting around, “y/n, baby, are you there?” 

 “Uh-huh,” You manage. 

“Sleepy?” He murmurs, misreading your sound, “That’s okay,” 

You make a tiny noise of protest and search the bed for your phone. 

“Baby?” He’s confused and you grin at his sleepy sated tone. 

Sliding off the bed onto nearly boneless legs, you find your pillow off to the side and your phone underneath. You snap it up and send a message quickly - Wait

“Wait?” He breathes, “Sure, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here,” 

You tiptoe to the bathroom as quietly as you can and then shut yourself behind the heavy door, flicking on the light and collapsing to sit on the closed toilet lid. 

You disconnect your earbuds and bring your phone to your ear, “Hey,” 

“Hey,” He murmurs, “you okay?” 

“Yeah,” You smile, still a little breathless, “Hiding in the bathroom for a sec so I could actually talk to you,” 

He hums, a quiet, lazy laugh, “Ah,” 

“Are you okay?” You find yourself asking, a little nervous tumble in your gut. 

“Me?” He says, “I’m incredible, you’re incredible,” 

“Yeah?” You draw your knees up, wrapping your arms around yourself and smiling into the phone. 

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” He checks, but you still hear the sound of him calling you ‘good girl’ and you shiver. 

“Not too much,” You sigh into the phone. 

“Good,” He hums, “I thought so, I was trying to pay attention to how you were feeling, but it was a little,”

“Hard to focus?” You offer and he laughs. 

“Yeah,” He sighs again, heavy and sated. 

“I can’t wait for this tour to be over,” You confess, “I just want to be with you,” 

You feel a pang in your chest and listen as Yunho rolls in the sheets, “I know, I want that too,” 

A little lump forms in your throat and you breathe through it, “Yunho,” 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Have you ever felt like this before?” Your thundering heart has started to slow, and you let your eyes close as you murmur the question. 

“Never,” He murmurs, “but I felt this way before we touched,” 

You feel his tenderness wrap around your heart as if he were in the room with you, and with a small smile you whisper, “I thought you said you weren’t holding a candle?” 

“I lied,” He says softly, “it’s been you for a long time,” 

He doesn’t say it, not in so many words, but you feel the way he loves you through the link in a wave. It’s as good as any confession to you, just as honest if not more so. 

“I wish I could come upstairs,” You manage, tears pricking your eyes. 

You hear him swallow and breathe a slow breath through his nose, “Soon, I promise. We’re going to do this right,” 

“I know,” 

“Are your headphones still in?” He asks

“No, but I can switch back,” 

“Put them back in and go get back in bed,” He softly instructs, “it’s late, but I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, okay?” 

“Okay,” You swap back over to your earbuds and adjust them. 

“Get back to bed,” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Yunho,” You interrupt him, “thank you for staying with me,” 

“Always,” He says, and for the first time in your life when someone says they’ll be there, you believe it. 

“I’m going back out,” Your voice drops to a whisper, “good night,” 

“Mhm,” He listens as you slip back into bed, “just get comfortable, just breathe. I’m right here with you, jagiya, I’ll be right here.” 

He murmurs to you softly until your mind is sinking into darkness, body finally unspooling and letting you drop off into sleep. It’s not the same as his arms around you, but it settles you more than any meditation, his voice a steady whisper through your dreams. 

In the morning when you wake the call is still connected and the first sound you hear is his slow breath and the steady beat of his heart.

[domm1etae]

the soft glow of the tv lit up yunho’s focused face, his fingers flying over the controller as he sat cross-legged on the floor. you didn’t mean to distract him, not really, but when you shuffled out of the bathroom wearing just his hoodie, the hem barely skimming your thighs, it was game over.

he didn’t even register his teammate shouting through his headset. his eyes locked on you instead, trailing from your bare legs up to the hoodie swallowing your frame.

“baby,” his voice dropped, thick and heavy, “are you seriously walking around like that?”

you paused mid-step, turning to look at him, all fake innocence. “like what?”

he groaned, tossing the controller aside as he got up, towering over you in seconds. his hands found your hips, gripping them tightly, his thumbs brushing against your skin just beneath the fabric. “don’t play dumb. you’re not wearing anything under this, are you?”

your lips curved into a shy smile, and that’s all it took. yunho’s restraint snapped.

he backed you up against the wall, his large hands sliding under the hoodie to confirm what he already knew. no panties. nothing at all.

“fuck,” he hissed, his fingertips kneading your bare ass. “you’re gonna drive me insane just by existing.”

before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours, desperate and hungry. his tongue slipped into your mouth, claiming you completely, while his hands explored every inch of bare skin hidden beneath his hoodie.

one hand slid down between your thighs, his long fingers gliding over your slick heat. “already so wet for me,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours as he circled your clit lazily. “you knew what you were doing, didn’t you?”

you nodded, breath hitching as his fingers teased your entrance. “wanted your attention,” you whispered, biting your lip.

“well, you’ve got it now,” he muttered, slipping two fingers inside you without warning.

your back arched, a moan spilling from your lips as he pumped his fingers deep and slow, curling them just right. his thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing circles that had your legs trembling.

“so fucking tight,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. “you love this, don’t you? letting me do whatever I want to you.”

all you could do was whimper, your hands clutching at his hoodie as he fucked you with his fingers, his pace picking up. the wet sounds of his fingers moving inside you filled the room, mingling with your moans and his ragged breathing.

“look at you,” yunho rasped, his free hand gripping your thigh to keep you steady as your legs threatened to give out. “wearing just my hoodie, dripping all over my hand. you’re so fucking perfect.”

your head fell back against the wall, pleasure building fast as he worked you over, his fingers relentless. “yunho, i—”

“come for me,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. “let me feel you.”

with a cry of his name, you shattered, your walls clenching around his fingers as waves of pleasure crashed over you. yunho didn’t stop, drawing out every last tremor before finally pulling his fingers free.

he brought them to his lips, licking them clean with a low groan. “sweetest fucking thing,” he murmured, his eyes dark as they met yours.

you barely had time to catch your breath before he leaned in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “next time, just sit in my lap, baby. let’s skip the teasing.”

[jeon-ify]

- 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 - 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 ! ⋆·˚ ༘ *

synopsis: in which the way you look after showering gets your husband worked up.

genre: romance, smut, 18+. mdni.

warnings: dilf yunho!!!!!! yunho is in his late 30s-early 40s here, nudity implied, kitchen sex, swearing, breast play, making out, female reader, big!dick yunho, hand kink, finger sucking (yunho AND reader!!) tit sucking, cervix fucking, choking kink, breeding kink, if i missed anything let me know ! :3

song for the chapter : into it - chase atlantic

happy reading !

the coconut and lime scent of your conditioner floods the first floor of your home, sending your husband into a faint distraction. the scent runs up his nostrils, up to his brain, and straight down his cock. the music you’re playing blares through your phone in the shower, your husband hearing it through to the second floor.

“I BEEN CATCHIN’ PLANES FOR THE FUN OF IT,”

you sing out extra loud, your husband pausing his speech to apologize for the background noise.

you took an everything shower today, so you already made dinner before showering— considering you’d be exhausted.

somehow, yunho put the pieces together, finishing dinner and making it the right way. you didn’t expect yunho to be so generous tonight— but here you are, standing over the stove and nibbling little pieces of the food while you waited for yunho to finish from a call he was wrapped up in.

you looked around the kitchen out of boredom, looking for things to do before you dived into the food. the way yunho’s shirt sat so pretty onto your body, riding up your thighs as your pink panties peak through the ends of the tee made your man so painfully distracted— holding himself back from fucking you over the piping hot stove.

yunho watched how the ends of your hair weren’t fully dried and how it dripped onto the back of your calves, dripping down your shiny legs. he also watched how your— his— tshirt rode up your legs anytime you reached up somewhere or bent to get something. his eyes did not leave your body.

you were still stood over the stovetop, taking little bites of the greens. you moan in how good the food is, a blend of paprika and garlic seasoning, along with the sweetness of the teriyaki sauce that yunho drizzled everywhere.

but even through the layers of seasonings he put into the food, your scent still broke through it all.

“yeah, sounds good. i’ll put in the CRA request like we mentioned previously, and i’ll email you the forums. just let me know when you need it. was there anything else i could assist you with today, mr. song?” the man on the computer responds and the call comes to an end.

you stare at how attractive he is when he’s working— all the business talk that made no fucking sense to you, but he understands it like his own language, and that in itself makes you weak.

“doll, what do you have on? it smells good.” he finally decides to speak after what felt like hours of him admiring from behind his computer screen.

a much older man admiring your hygiene is something you never thought you’d see, but yunho was drooling on the laptop beneath his fingertips.

“it’s your favorite lotion,” you look up at him through damp eyelashes and flushed cheeks, watching how his nostrils flare with every breath he takes.

it takes yunho everything in his body to not pick you up and throw you over the counter and pound a baby into your small belly. he’s much older than you are, but when he met you, he knew you’d be his companion.

“yu, this smells really yummy. you did a great job, baby.” you walk over to yunho on the other end of the table, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind him. he holds onto your hands and throws his head back onto your stomach, looking up at you.

“sweets, the last thing on my mind is dinner. let me taste you, little girl,” his soft and mature voice makes your legs quiver with excitement as yunho takes your hands in his, bringing your middle and ring finger to his mouth, sucking on the digits. you gasp in response, watching how desperate the middle aged man underneath your touch grows weak at your feet.

“i can never get enough of you. wanna fuck you all day.” he stands up to face you, bringing his lips to yours. he sucks and nibs at your bottom lip to gain quicker access to explore the rest of your mouth. you deepen the kiss, the faint taste of cigarettes cloud your small mouth, making you whimper in desperation. he slides a hand between your thighs, thumb rubbing against your clit. you’re not sure if your juices make a patch on your panties or if its from your shower. nonetheless, you are so fucking turned on right now that the last thing on your mind is dinner.

“what have you done to me, pretty girl?” he feels as though you’ve casted a spell on him. everything you do makes him feral; weak in the knees. but somehow, you make him a man.

“i’m just here, yunho. don’t give me all the credit,” you gasp at the feeling of his long fingers pushing into your tight wet cunt. he gasps in sarcasm, exploring your face as he uses your cunt to soak his fingers— bringing them up to your mouth.

you feel his fingers curl into a ‘come here’ motion, your breath hitching as he pushes against your walls. your eyes roll, grasping his forearm as he speeds up his motions. you cry out and beg for him to slow down, but he doesn’t listen.

“so pretty. look at these lips, let me kiss them.” he brings his lips to yours in an open mouthed makeout, gasping for air as he pulls away with a deep-dimpled smirk. your pussy convulses around his long fingers, as your husband groans in response.

your thighs clamp shut in an attempt to calm yourself down from how aggressively his fingers ruthlessly ravish your cunt. yunho, reaching your cervix from how long his fingers are, takes in a deep breath at how fast he’s been moving. “yu- ohh— fuck! please— i’m cumming, please i’m gonna cum!” you chant begs along with his name as if it were a mantra, feeling the way his hard cock presses into your backside.

“yeah, feels good, doesn’t it, baby? now let me feel you cum on my cock.” he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking himself dry of your juices. you whimper in need of him inside of you. he lines himself up with your entrance as you’re bent over the counter across from the stove.

he pushes into your soaked pussy deeper, feeling his dick throb ruthlessly inside of you already. lucky for him, he was able to hold himself for almost half an hour on end while he fucks you.

“s-sir, it’s so big! i don’t think i can take y-“ you pull away from his length, feeling like you’re being ripped in half by what feels like 12 inches. he runs his hand along your back from underneath the t-shirt, in an attempt to calm you down and keep you around him.

“tiny girl, you can take me. you’ve let me fuck my cum into you hundreds of times. what’s changed, dollface?” he almost makes you cum from his voice in itself, but you decide to push back while he stays still, waiting for you to adjust to his size for what feels like the millionth time throughout your relationship.

he begins pounding into you at a quicker pace, pulling and tugging at your bare nipples from underneath you. your mouth hangs open as yunho brings his large hand to your throat to wrap itself around it. you grit through your teeth, wishing you could just cum.

you don’t feel like you want to cum, you feel like you’re going to squirt all over his body. “talk to me, baby. what’s it feel like?”

he’s being so fucking annoying and making you focus on anything else other than your orgasm, but you only moan and cry in response.

“i— ‘s too much.” whimpering and shaking in a headlock, you grasp onto yunho’s arm to get a breath of air. from the way his muscular arm wraps itself around your throat makes you cum over, and over already.

yunho gets another quick scent of your lotion and conditioner, making his cock twitch in your cervix.

“i’m almost done baby, give me another one— fuck, you smell so good. the fuck are you doing to me, baby?”

he pounds into you again, harder this time— tugging at your panties to pull you back onto his hips, planting himself deeper in you.

“nngh, oh my god!”

“oh, but i’m the one making you cry like this. give it to me, fucking milk me dry. gonna spill all my cum into your tiny stomach. let me give you my babies, hm? how’s that sound?”

he bends over so his chest is against your back as he nips at your ear. his tongue licks up your tears, planting a kiss on the end of your right eyebrow. his thrusts slow down as he holds you in place to shoot his load right into your baby maker.

“oh my— fuck! yes, so good!”

you cry out in relief that you finally got to spill out your cum onto yunho’s still cock. he lands a sharp slap on your ass before pulling you back up and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“so pretty when you cry for me. should keep a picture in my wallet.”

yunho gets down on his knees before you, licking up your thighs where your juices dried. your fingers run through his pretty softly gelled black hair.

he licks up all of your juices near your heat, using his fingers to push back the cum that threatens to drip from your pussy. your eyes roll to the back of your head as yunho places a kiss on your lower stomach, traveling up beneath your shirt to suck a generous amount of skin on your tit.

“yun— you’re sucking too hard, fuck!” he sucks and bites your nipples as if you were his lifeline,

he slaps the area he sucked on, making you gasp out in surprise. “keep my cum in you until after dinner, i’ll fuck more into you.”

so you sat at the other end of the table with your thighs clenching and unable to think about anything other than your husband pounding a shit ton of babies into you.

————————

🌷🤍🎀

well? dilfyunho anyone?????

[memorabxlia]

Cum for me ━ 윤호

genre: smut summary: you had your night cut out for you... warnings: language, unprotected sex (wrap up irl!!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, mentions alcohol (def forgot something) pairing: nonidol!yunho x fem!reader wc: 3k a/n: DAY 8!!! nets: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm, amber glow across the room. Outside, snowflakes drifted lazily from the night sky, blanketing the world in a silent, white hush. Christmas lights twinkled from the tree in the corner, their colors reflecting off the ornaments like little bursts of joy. The scent of pine and cinnamon mingled in the air, wrapping the room in a cozy, intimate embrace.

Yunho leaned back against the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He looked effortlessly at ease, his sweater clinging just enough to hint at the lean muscle beneath. His arm rested casually along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder. You shifted slightly, feeling the heat of his touch even through the fabric of your sweater. Your heart thrummed in your chest, a quiet but insistent rhythm that seemed to echo the soft hum of the fire.

“This is nice,” he said, his voice low and smooth, like velvet. His eyes—dark, warm, and impossible to look away from—met yours, and you felt a shiver run down your spine, one that had nothing to do with the winter chill outside.

“It is,” you agreed, your voice softer than you intended. You took a sip of the spiked hot chocolate in your hands, the warmth of it spreading through you, loosening your nerves. But it wasn’t just the drink making you feel this way. It was him. His presence. The way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth his attention.

The silence settled between you again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was loaded, charged with something unspoken. You glanced at him, catching the faint curve of his lips, the way his eyes lingered on you.

“What?” you asked, feeling your cheeks flush.

He tilted his head, a small, almost mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Just… enjoying the view.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, pretending to focus on the fire. But you could feel his gaze on you, steadfast and unrelenting. It was like he could see right through you like he knew exactly what you were thinking. And maybe he did.

The air between you shifted, growing thicker, heavier. Your pulse quickened, your palms dampening against the mug in your hands. You set it down on the coffee table, the clink of ceramic against wood startlingly loud in the quiet room. When you turned back to him, he was closer, his body angled toward you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your stomach flip.

“Yunho…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You weren’t even sure what you were going to say.

He didn’t say anything either. He just leaned in, his hand sliding from your shoulder to the back of your neck, his touch firm but gentle. His breath ghosted across your lips, warm and tantalizing, and you couldn’t help but part them, a silent invitation.

And then he kissed you.

It was slow, deliberate, his lips moving against yours with a kind of urgency that made your head spin. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest. You could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your palms, the heat of his skin through his sweater.

The kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours, and you moaned softly, the sound swallowed by him. His other hand found your waist, his fingers splaying possessively against your side. You could feel the tension in him, the restraint, like he was holding himself back. But you didn’t want him to.

You broke the kiss, just enough to breathe, to look into his eyes. They were dark, almost black, his pupils blown wide with desire. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and you could see the effort it took for him to keep himself in check.

“Yunho,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I…”

He didn’t let you finish. In one swift motion, he stood, pulling you up with him. His arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly, and you gasped, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you to the couch, his steps sure and unhurried, and laid you down gently, his body hovering over yours.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes roaming your face like he was memorizing every detail. Then he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low, guttural rasp that sent a shiver through you. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

You didn’t have time to respond. His lips were on yours again, more insistent this time, and you kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands moved to the hem of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head in one fluid motion. The cool air hit your skin, raising goosebumps, but you barely noticed. His hands were everywhere, skimming over your ribs, your stomach, your breasts, and you arched into his touch, a needy whimper escaping your lips.

He pulled back, his eyes raking over you, and you could see the hunger in them, the barely restrained desire. His hands went to his own sweater, tugging it off, and your breath caught at the sight of him. His chest was lean but defined, his skin smooth and warm in the flickering firelight.

He moved over you again, his body pressing into yours, and you could feel the hardness of him through his jeans, the evidence of his desire unmistakable. You reached for his belt, your hands trembling slightly as you fumbled with the buckle. He watched you, his breath coming in short, sharp pants, and when you finally managed to get it undone, he helped you push the jeans down, kicking them off along with his boxers.

The sight of him made your mouth go dry. He was thick, hard, and achingly beautiful, and you couldn’t help but reach for him, your fingers wrapping around his length. He hissed through his teeth, his hips jerking into your touch, and you stroked him slowly, reveling in the way he responded to you.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice strained. He caught your wrist, stopping your hand, and leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue delving into your mouth. “Not yet. I need to feel you.”

He reached between your legs, his fingers sliding under the waistband of your panties, and you lifted your hips, letting him pull them off. His hand returned, his fingers skimming over your slick folds, and you gasped, your back arching off the couch. He slid a finger inside you, then another, and you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“You’re so wet,” he said, his voice thick with lust. He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur, and you cried out, your hips bucking against his hand.

“Yunho, please,” you begged, your voice breaking.

He didn’t make you wait. He positioned himself between your legs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and you

"Yunho, please," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. His dark eyes locked onto yours, intense and unwavering, as he slowly pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance. You could feel the heat of him, the way he stretched you just enough to make your breath hitch. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

"You want me to take you?" he asked, his breath hot against your skin. You nodded frantically, your hips already rocking up to meet him, desperate for more. He chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, and then, with one slow, deliberate thrust, he sheathed himself inside you.

You gasped, your nails digging into his back as he filled you completely. He was huge, stretching you in ways you hadn’t thought possible, and yet it felt perfect. Like you were made for him. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust, his forehead pressed against yours as his breath came in ragged pants.

"You feel incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So tight. So fucking perfect."

You moaned, arching your back and digging your heels into the couch for leverage, silently urging him to move. He obliged, pulling out almost completely before slamming back in, the force of it knocking a choked cry from your lips. He set a rhythm, deep and relentless, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

"Ah—Yunho!" you cried out, your hands clawing at his shoulders as he drove into you again and again. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your gasps and his groans. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as his hips continued their relentless pace.

"You’re so fucking beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need. "I can’t get enough of you." You could feel the intensity in his movements, the way he was holding back, trying to savor the moment, but the heat between you was too much to contain.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned, his hips stuttering for a moment before he adjusted his angle. Suddenly, his thrusts hit that spot inside you that made your vision blur, and you cried out, your body tightening around him.

"Fuck, Yunho—right there!" you gasped, your nails raking down his back as he aimed for that spot again and again. The pleasure was overwhelming, building and building until you felt like you might shatter from it. He reached between you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles, and you screamed, your body convulsing as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you.

"That’s it, baby," he growled, his voice rough and strained as he felt you clench around him. "Cum for me. I’ve got you."

You could feel yourself unraveling, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful as it ripped through you. You clung to him, your nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin as you rode the wave, your hips bucking against his as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm until you were gasping for air.

But he didn’t stop. He kept moving, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, as if he was chasing his own release. You could feel him trembling, his muscles tight with tension as he held himself back, determined to make you cum again.

"Yunho—I can’t—"_ you whimpered, your body still sensitive from your first orgasm, but he just growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulled you down onto him with each thrust.

"You can," he said firmly, his voice low and commanding. "I’m not done with you yet."

You moaned, your body responding to his words despite the overstimulation. He was relentless, his cock hitting that spot inside you again and again until you felt the pressure building once more. This time, it was different—deeper, more intense—and you knew there was no stopping it.

"I’m—I’m gonna—"_ you cried out, your voice breaking as the second orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, tearing through you with such force that your entire body went rigid. You could feel yourself tightening around him, your muscles spasming as the pleasure consumed you, and he groaned, his hips stuttering as he finally let go.

"Fuck," he hissed, his cock pulsing inside you as he came, filling you with his release. You could feel the warmth of it spreading inside you, and the sensation was enough to send another wave of pleasure rippling through you as you trembled beneath him.

He collapsed on top of you, his breath coming in ragged pants as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, rapid and erratic, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both caught your breath.

"You’re amazing," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with awe as he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck. You smiled, your fingers threading through his hair as you basked in the afterglow, your body still humming with pleasure.

But then, you felt him shift, his cock still buried inside you as he lifted his head to look at you. His eyes were dark, filled with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine.

"One more," he said, his voice low and filled with promise. "I want to hear you scream my name one more time."

Your breath caught in your throat as he moved, his cock sliding out of you before he flipped you over onto your stomach. You barely had time to process what was happening before he was behind you, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you back onto him. You gasped as he entered you again, his cock filling you to the brim as he began to move.

"Yunho—"_ you whimpered, your body already trembling with anticipation. He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back as he whispered in your ear.

"Scream for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

And you did. Your voice shattered into a moan as he hit that spot inside you, the one that made your vision blur and your toes curl. Your body convulsed, clenching around him as you came, and he didn’t stop. He kept moving, his cock relentlessly pistoning into you, dragging out your orgasm until you were trembling, overstimulated and overwhelmed.

“Y-Yunho, please—it’s too much—” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin. But he only chuckled darkly, his hands sliding up your sides to grip your shoulders, pulling you back against his chest as he continued to fuck you.

“You can take it,” he murmured, his lips trailing down the side of your neck. “You’re doing so good for me, baby. Just one more. I know you can do it.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him you couldn’t possibly cum again, but your body was already betraying you. The friction of his cock inside you, the way he angled his hips to hit that spot over and over—it was too much, and yet, it wasn’t enough. Your breath came in short, uneven gasps, your hands reaching back to grasp at his thighs as he pounded into you.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice rough with desire. “Cum for me again. I want to feel you squeezing my cock.”

And just like that, you were falling apart again. Your body arched, your back pressing against his chest as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. This time, you screamed his name, the sound echoing in the room as you came harder than you ever had before. Your nails dug into his thighs, your body shaking uncontrollably as he continued to thrust into you, his pace never faltering.

He groaned, his hands sliding down to grip your hips again as he fucked you through your orgasm, his cock buried deep inside you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his voice strained. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could even process his words, he was pulling out of you, leaving you empty and aching. You whimpered, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, as he flipped you onto your back. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and hungry, as he positioned himself between your legs, his cock brushing against your sensitive entrance.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice firm but gentle. You obeyed, your eyes meeting his as he pushed into you again, slower this time, savoring the way your body wrapped around him. “You’re mine, baby. And I’m not done reminding you of that.”

You moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate. His eyes never left yours, his gaze intense as he watched you fall apart beneath him. You could feel every inch of him, the way he filled you completely, and it was almost too much. But you didn’t want it to stop. You never wanted it to stop.

“Yunho—” you gasped, your nails digging into his skin as he angled his hips just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your entire body light up. He smirked, his hands sliding up to cup your face as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive.

“You,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. “I belong to you.”

He kissed you then, his lips claiming yours with a ferocity that left you breathless. His tongue slid into your mouth, tangling with yours as he continued to move inside you, his cock hitting that spot with every thrust. You could feel it again, the pressure building low in your belly, your body coiling tighter as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” he said against your lips, his voice rough with desire. “Cum for me again.”

And just like that, you shattered. Your body convulsed, your legs wrapping around his waist as you came, your nails scratching down his back. He groaned, his hips stuttering as he felt your walls clench around him, pulling him closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips as he began to thrust harder, faster. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby. You’re gonna take every last drop.”

You nodded, your body still trembling from your orgasm as he slammed into you one last time, his cock buried deep inside you as he came. You could feel him pulsing, filling you with his warmth, and you moaned, your body still sensitive as he collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your neck.

He stayed like that for a moment, his cock still inside you, as he pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. You could feel his heart racing, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and satisfaction.

You smiled, your hands running through his hair as you whispered, “So are you.”

He chuckled, lifting his head to look at you, his eyes filled with warmth and desire.

❥﹒ ateez taglist: @minkilicious @ololoxbeans @lice @casemoa143 @amarecerasus

[ateezlibrary]

𝔯𝔲𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔢 (m) • 𝗃𝗒𝗁

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: noble!yunho x princess!reader

𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌/𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: 18+ (mdni), smut with plot, historical au, forbidden attraction, forced proximity, power dynamics, loooots of tension, arranged marriage to mingi (we don't like him)

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 4.8k

synopsis: with your kingdom at risk, your parents devise a grand plan to have you arranged to be wed to the rival kingdom's son. in an effort to demonstrate peace, you and prince mingi are required to attend a ball (spoiler alert: it doesn't go well). a desperate need to escape sends you straight into yunho's arms.

notes: hi y'all. haven't been on this account for a while and i do have a handful of requests to get through, but i did want to get this up here for a friend of mine! feel free to continue submitting scenario/fic requests that i can ponder on. :-) enjoy!

The hand in mine is cold, unfeeling as fingers lace around mine in a feeble attempt to demonstrate some semblance of a happy couple. The gesture is robotic, one that leads me to roll my eyes as I nimbly clasp his hand in response. At the bottom of the staircase, the grand hall is filled to the brim with nobility from across the kingdoms, each of them striving to out-dress the next as they glide around marbled floors in decadent gowns and suits. My free hand dangles at my side, fingers clenching and unclenching in an attempt to release the nerves of entering with my suitor for the night.

“Let’s go,” is all he says, his voice devoid of any affection as he pulls me along with him to notify the guard of our arrival. The younger uniformed man nods once, capturing the attention of the parties beneath us as he bangs his staff against the ground twice.

“His Highness, Prince Song Mingi, along with the Princess of the Southern Kingdom of Jeonsu.”

And so, the whispers commence. Hushed voices commenting on what we were wearing, on how we looked together, how Song Mingi held my hand in his. Along comes a certain myriad of comments on how our kings and queens despised one another and how I was a stranger in their territory. Like clockwork, Mingi utilizes his court training well, guiding me down the grand staircase with my hand now on his arm. I hold my head high, against the scoffs from the foreign nobility and keep my eyes fixated on a particularly dazzling chandelier.

From the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar presence standing watch from a towering marble pillar near the far end of the room. A head of tousled brunette hair, wide brown eyes, a tall frame donning a well-fitted sapphire suit. He offers me a small smile of encouragement, one that makes my heart flutter for the slightest of moments before I follow Mingi’s guide to the bottom of the staircase. We bow before the crowd expecting us, the orchestra returning to its waltz.

Mingi looks down at me, and I blink back up at him in silent question.

Despite the lack of love, there was an understanding between us. Neither of us enjoyed the arrangement we’d found ourselves in. Neither of us enjoyed being born into kingdoms split into centuries-long rivalry, or being used as political pawns to secure peace between lands. Yet, here we were, dressed to the nines in an attempt to save face.

“I’m going to speak with Lord Taeho,” he states. “Will you be—”

“I’ll be fine,” I interrupt, bowing my head and gliding to a corner of the room where I could remain as unseen as possible. Dozens of pairs of eyes followed me. I was no stranger to public scrutiny, but it was more apparent coming from people that were not my own. I settle into one of the gilded chairs at the end of the room where a handful of women were gathered to gossip. They seemed to be close in age, not much older than I was.

“I can’t imagine how Prince Mingi has gotten into this predicament,” one whispers all-too-loudly, her kohl-lined feline eyes darting between her friends and where I sat. “I knew Jeonsu was suffering from trade route closures, but a marriage?”

“I agree, it’s a dramatic attempt for them to claim our power as their own.”

“And, our prince.”

I roll my eyes, gratefully taking one of the champagne flutes from the offering waitstaff that floated by. Focusing more intently than ever on the bubbles that cling to the glass, I try to block out the sound of their scrutiny when a friendlier voice interjects.

“All by your lonesome?” he asks, and I turn to a bright-eyed Yunho that is looking down at me with hands in his pockets. His smile is charming, etched across his face in a warm welcome much unlike the others around him.

I shrug in response with a smile of my own, gesturing to the room with a wave of my hand. “I believe my betrothed is working the room, it would seem.”

Yunho’s gaze follows Mingi around the hall in a shared silence. Ever since the arrangement had been made between the kingdoms, Yunho had served as the prince’s right-hand man in assisting with my move to their palace. Unlike the rest of the awful personas in this kingdom, Yunho was a breath of fresh air. He spoke with emotion, passion that was unrivaled by the cold, harsh demeanors of the rest of the palace staff scared straight and the royal family that was all-too-hard to read.

“Look, now she’s quick to seduce the rest of our nobles,” another scoffs from the circle adjacent, the rest tittering in response.

“I can worry about myself,” I snap at them, already tired of their comments despite only just arriving. “I’d suggest you not gossip. It’s awfully unbecoming of you.”

Each of them grow pale, wide eyes blinking back at me in surprise that I refused to take their harassment in silence. They leave their seats almost immediately, hurrying deeper into the hall where other socialites awaited. Beside me, Yunho stifles a laugh as I rub at my temple.

“Oh, is this funny to you?” I scorn. Swallowing down the rest of my drink, I’m about to wave over the waitstaff to receive another when Mingi approaches me with a raised eyebrow.

“What just happened over here?” he asks harshly, eyes narrowed into slits.

“What?” I ask, gesturing to the gaggle of women that crowded near the refreshments table where Mingi once was. “The socialites of this kingdom can’t be told that they have no right to criticize another royal?”

“These are my people,” he barks, and I roll my eyes.

“As if they’re not practically about to be mine.”

“Hey,” Yunho attempts to interject, sensing the rising tension between the pair of us as he nervously runs a hand through his brunette hair. “Let’s not—”

“I’m not the one forcing you to marry me,” Mingi snaps in a hushed whisper, his jaw clenched as I rise from my seat to meet his glare.

“And yet, you find it your duty to parent me while we’re here.”

“Just leave,” is all Mingi replies, turning his back to me. His shoulders rise and fall with every measured breath, glancing over at me one last time with daggers in his eyes as he returns to mingling with his people.

His people. They would never be mine. This would never work.

My people would continue to suffer.

Suddenly, the room felt much too small. The towering pillars were suddenly too large, the floor too slick. The orchestra playing its waltz fought with the barrage of thoughts running through my mind, leaving little space for me to hear the muffled sound of Yunho asking if I was all right.

It was getting harder to breathe, the corset of my gown growing tighter with each breath. In desperate need of fresh air, I ran straight for the tall oak doors at the far end of the ballroom and into the courtyard with heaving gasps. My skin crawled from the desperate need to get out of sight. Glancing wildly around the gardens, I opted for the observatory at the other end of the palace grounds and hiked my gown with my hands as I darted across the cool grass.

* * *

I’d been sat in the glass-topped dome for what felt like an eternity, mindfully observing each star above and the rows of books that lined the walls around me. Much unlike the ballroom, the observatory was quiet. I’d not been familiar with the kingdom’s palace, only having visited a few times. Nonetheless, I remembered the observatory clearly, recounting it from when Yunho had first guided me on a tour of the grounds. I admired it for its exclusion from the main palace halls, tucked away in its own solace—much like I needed in this moment.

As my mind cleared, I sighed with the recognition that I’d have to answer a lot of questions when I’d returned—where I went, why I left, why I abandoned Prince Mingi in such a public setting. Questions I refused to think of answers for right this second.

The gilded iron doors to the observatory creak open and I turn in a panic, eyes wide as I prepare to back into one of the rows of bookshelves and make myself small.

Taking sight of Yunho, relief washes over me and I sigh, lowering my hand that clutched the front of my corset and slumping back into the sapphire velvet sofa that sat under the stars. He raises an eyebrow, almost as if he’s surprised to have found me here.

“Well, this is one place to hide,” he answers, his voice low as he locks the door behind him and saunters over to me. I look up at him wearily, silently grateful for his company in such a lonely palace. “Mingi asked that I look for you.”

“I don’t imagine that he asked you to do so right when I stormed off.”

“Well—no,” he replies, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “He actually hadn’t noticed for quite some time. I would have come immediately, but I assume you needed the space.”

A sudden bout of thunder rolls through the skies above, causing us both to crane our heads up towards the flashes of lightning that follow soon after. 

“Great. Now even the heavens hate me for being uncooperative.” I bury my face in my hands with a muffled groan, and Yunho lets out a laugh—a strange sound in a place like this. He lowers onto his haunches before me, gently taking my hands away from my face and holding my chin in his.

“Chin up, now,” he scolds, and I offer a feeble smile in response. “It’s a lot of responsibility weighing on your shoulders. Both you and Mingi. There’s a lot of change happening, and I imagine it’s not easy.”

He stares at me for just a second too long, something that doesn’t go unnoticed as I shift my gaze back to the now turbulent weather outside.

“Seems like you brought the rain with you,” I joke evasively, gesturing to the glass panels and settling back into the sofa, knees hugged to my chest beneath the billowing gown. Yunho glances up in response, nodding once as he leans against the desk across from me with his legs crossed. Large hands crane over the edge of the desk, drumming his fingertips to fill the silence amidst the storm brewing.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to get back for a while,” Yunho admits. “Though, at least you’re accounted for.”

“I suppose,” I nod and reach before me to pat the plush velvet. “No need to stand around. Come sit.”

As Yunho sits beside me, legs outstretched before him and hands behind his head, I take the opportunity to drink him in silently. He’d been my only real companion throughout the arrangement with Mingi so far. The only one that didn’t look at me with distaste or treat me as an inconvenience in a larger political ploy. We’d grown to become friends of sort in the past several weeks, able to joke and tell stories and simply be … human, if only for a little while.

Given the circumstances, I’d be a fool to not find him attractive in the grand scheme of things.

The thought instantly churns guilt at the pit of my stomach. I had no right to be attracted to him. He was the prince’s right-hand man. He was kind and amenable, qualities that were needed for such a job. He knew the predicament I was in with the arranged marriage. He was no stranger to playing his part.

“You’re really lost in thought tonight, aren’t you?” he pokes, chuckling as I blink the thoughts away and struggle to come up with a hasty excuse.

“Trying to find something to do to pass time while we’re in here,” I utter, averting his gaze that now seemed darker under the thunderous sky. “Maybe we should look at these …”

And so, time passes with us prodding through ancient maps, travel journals and court documents that span across the walls of the library. The storm rolls on, growing stronger and sealing the observatory off from the rest of the palace. Enough time goes by where I begin to feel constricted by the corset of my dress, and I refuse to mention it to Yunho until he notices for himself.

“Are you all right?” he asks, setting aside the journal in hand and taking note of the way that my breathing had grown labored. “Do you feel well?”

“I-I’m fine,” I lie, absentmindedly craning a hand behind me to tug at the lacing unsuccessfully. “Just—ah …”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, standing before me as his eyes scan over me oh, so slowly.

“It’s just—the corset,” I admit finally, cheeks flushed from a combination of remorse and the restriction of the boned fabric. “It gets uncomfortable after a while.”

“Oh,” Yunho answers, and realization dawns on him. “Oh.” He raises his eyebrows, stammering for a moment before forming a coherent sentence. “If you need to loosen it, please don’t feel ashamed. I rather you not pass out on me than worry about your dress being improper.”

“Thanks for that,” I reply hastily, struggling to reach a hand to the lacing crossed at my back. “I would have if I could reach the fasteners.”

“I can help,” Yunho volunteers almost immediately, and I can’t help but scoff at his enthusiasm that he quickly corrects. “I-I mean, if you need me to.”

“I do.”

With a soft smile of my own, I keep as calm as possible as he approaches me from behind, fingers outstretched and awaiting permission. The warmth from his body radiates onto mine, melding any coherent thoughts in my mind as I silently punish myself for noticing the feeling. Yunho requires no guidance as he threads his fingers through the lacing, unweaving the tight restraints as I finally feel the pressure release from my chest.

The corset expands loosely around my ribcage, forcing me to grip at its hem to prevent it from slipping. I turn, suddenly realizing that Yunho is much closer than I’d realized. He looks down at me, hand still lingering on my waist from where he finished helping me to come undone. The light in his eyes is gone, replaced with a kind of hunger I hadn’t seen in them before.

“Is that better?” he asks in a hushed voice. His voice crawls along my skin, and suddenly I’m all too aware of every inch of my skin and every hair that stands on end. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his, watching as his trail down to my lips, my waist.

“Yes,” I whisper under the sounds of the storm outside.

The storm that isolates us from the rest of the kingdom. From any judgment, from our roles as bride-to-be and the prince’s confidante.

Yunho seems to notice this as well, his hand moving from my waist to lift my chin. He brushes his thumb against my cheek tantalizingly slow, a gasp slipping past my lips as I lean into his touch. An unspoken attraction dances around us, one that he fights against with great restraint as he pulls his hand away with a sigh. Even so, his lips are just mere inches from mine.

“We can’t,” he scolds softly, an obvious strain in his voice.

My mind races with filthy thoughts, suddenly wild at the idea of succumbing to the most carnal desires that ran between us in that moment. To hear him moan, have his hands around my throat.

But we can’t.

“Why not?” I urge in what almost sounds like a cry for help. My hands release the corset, the fabric now slouching dangerously low. Yunho’s eyes dart to the way it slips lower and lower, sitting just beneath my cleavage as a strangled breath slips past his lips.

“You are to be my princess,” he answers, “and I answer to the prince. There are lines I can’t cross.” He swallows. “No matter how tempting.”

Realization dawns on me as I arch an eyebrow, backing onto the sofa again just behind us. Crossing my legs, I pretend to not notice his hungry gaze as the fabric of the dress billows around me, eyes locked onto his as I let out a dry laugh.

“So, you are at the whim of the prince? Is that correct?” He nods once, eyes unmoving. “And I am to marry the prince, am I not?”

He nods again.

“Then you are under my command as much as you are under his.” His gaze shifts frantically to meet mine, confusion etched onto his face for a brief moment as he finally understands my suggestion. The thought of wielding power over the man before me ignited a certain kind of flame under my skin, one that crept along my veins and churned at my core. I leaned back into the plush velvet as a newfound confidence overcomes me. “Won’t you be a loyal subject to me?”

“I—” Yunho seems to wrestle something within himself for a brief moment, lowering himself onto a knee and bowing before me. As he lifts his head, his eyes sparkle with a desperate, silent plea. “Yes. Of course.”

“Then ruin me,” I command, taking his chin in my hand the way he did mine not long before. “Ravage me as if I were a common whore, right now.” My words are breathless, betraying the way I yearned to exercise control over the man on his knees before me.

“Is that what you want?” he asks tentatively, pressing a hand over mine as he lowers his gaze to the ground.

“That is an order.”

Save for the rain that thrums against the confines of the observatory, the room falls silent amidst the sound of our breathing. Yunho slides his hand down to my wrist, pausing for a moment before tightening his grip around it and shoving me back into the sofa. He’s almost unrecognizable, the gentle playfulness in his features completely replaced by a maniacal desire. His grin is lopsided as his other hand reaches for my waist, urging me against the cushions as he hovers over me.

Lowering his head to the crook of my neck, the breathy laugh that escapes from him sends a vibration down my spine, breath hitched in my throat. He traces the tip of his tongue tantalizingly slow from my collarbone to just behind my ear, and the sensation forces me to arch my back against his restraint with a soft gasp.

“Ruin you?” he asks, fingers pressing deeper into my waist. “Have you drunk off of my cock and writhing at the way it feels when I touch you, fill you up?”

My breath comes in shallow, ragged breaths as my eyes flutter shut. Whatever had overcome Yunho was unlike anything I’d ever seen from him—the gentle, kind boy I’d come to befriend. This was a monster of sorts, ravenous and insatiable. His hand snakes to my hair, pulling it back with a forceful yank so that I was forced to look at him.

“Is that what you want, princess?”

“I—” Words escape me as I pant, eyebrows furrowed at the ache rising between my legs.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” I finally manage to get out, meeting his gaze.

“Good girl.”

Releasing his grip on my now tousled hair, Yunho presses his fingers into my cheeks, forcing my lips apart as he lowers himself to spit in my mouth. I gasp as the string of saliva slides down my tongue, swallowing it with an obedient whimper. His thumb brushes over my lower lip, every touch from him electrifying. The way he causes me to react earns a scoff as he straightens himself to pull the restrictive gown off of my body.

The night air caresses my skin, every pore raised from the cold mixed with hungry anticipation. His face is flushed, his chest heaving with each breath as he reaches to roll the sleeves of his dress shirt. Lowering himself back onto his knees, he yanks me towards the edge of the sofa, now bare before him. Color creeps to my cheeks, something that doesn’t go unnoticed as he tuts at the sight of me already dripping under his touch.

“Shy now, are we?” he lilts, broad hands holding my thighs apart as he drinks in every sight of me. I whimper under his touch, weak in my attempt to pull my legs back together. “I want to see exactly how I make you feel.” Extending a hand upwards, he pries my mouth open again with two fingers, relishing in the way I latch onto them like clockwork. Now coated with saliva, he groans at the sound as he slips them back out of my mouth and towards my cunt.

“Hold steady now, pretty girl.”

With painfully slow pressure, he presses his fingers against my clit. The sensation overwhelms me, and it’s only then that I realize how desperate I was to be under his touch. He traces circles languidly, peppering kisses along the inside of my thigh. My body jerks and quivers under him, and I bite my tongue to conceal the lewd plea that was about to escape me. In one swift motion, he dips his tongue between my folds in long, greedy strokes.

“Oh—” I cry out in surprise, grabbing at his hair as he buries his tongue deeper into me. Yunho hums in disapproval, pinning my wrists to either side of me as he quickens his pace. A familiar knot begins to build at my core, one that ebbs and flows as he flicks his tongue against my clit. Pleasure clouds my mind as my vision blurs, my chest heaving with the impending climax.

Just as I’m about to surrender, he stops.

My protests are silenced before they escape, Yunho finding a seat beside me on the sofa and pulling me towards him so that one of my legs is draped over his, on full display for him once more. He slides his fingers back between my folds, pumping them vigorously as I let out a string of moans. His free hand slips around me, wrapping around my neck so that I was pressed firmly against his chest.

“You sound delicious,” he mewls, his grip tightening around my neck as I struggle to maintain my posture. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to hear those noises come out of that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“P-Please, Yunho,” I beg—actually beg—as the wave begins to rise in my stomach for the second time. “I’m going to—”

“Not yet,” he coaxes, pulling me back against him with his hand still firmly wrapped around my neck. Slipping his fingers out of me, he brings them back to my mouth. Craning my head to the side, my eyes lock on his as he relishes in the way I taste myself off of his fingers.

He lifts my leg off of his, opting to pick me up and spread me across the desk across from the sofa with an animalistic groan. Yunho’s eyes never leave mine as he unfastens the buckle on his belt, leaning over me again to wrap my wrists between the leather and loop it through the latch on the desk drawer above my head. I raise an eyebrow at how quickly it was done, leaning into the observation.

“I take it you’ve done this before?” I pry, and he lets out another dark chuckle.

“I’ve had a bit of practice,” he admits, lips curling into a sensual grin. He reaches to pull his cock free from his trousers, gazing over at me with hooded eyes. I watch as he runs his hand along his length, the sight fueling a burning pain between my legs. Friction did little to ease the ache, earning a scoff from Yunho at the way I pathetically fought to rub my thighs together.

“So eager,” he chides, his hand’s pace quickening as his own breathing grows ragged. “Can’t I look at you for just a while longer? You look so pretty like this.”

“Just fuck me,” I order, knees lifted as I drag my heels on the desk’s surface. He raises an eyebrow, dropping his hand so that he could place his palms on either side of my head. His voice is low, alluring as I feel the weight of his erection press into my core. The thought of his cock covered in me causes me to groan, wrists jerking against their restraints.

“How do you think your prince would like knowing that I defiled his darling bride-to-be?” he asks, biting down on my collarbone and earning a drawn-out moan in response. “Begging me to fuck her?”

“I don’t care,” I plead hastily, nearly at the brink of tears out of sheer frustration from waiting to be filled. I’m about to protest further when he shoves himself into me in one swift motion, our bodies jerking forward as a collective groan fills the room.

Yunho’s lips finally capture mine in a passionate kiss, a fight of tongues and teeth as he grips onto the edge of the desk with white knuckles. He thrusts into me relentlessly, pleasure and pain thrumming against my veins as I cry out against his lips. The tension of weeks of gentle touches and subtle glances finally crescendos in a messy union.

He finally pulls his mouth away from mine, gulping down air as sweat slicks his hair. I wriggle against the belt around my wrists, desperate to drag my nails down his back and feel every muscle move against mine. Yunho notices my impatience and lets out a ragged moan, shifting off of me just long enough to turn me over so that my wrists were now twisted in their binds. I gasp for breath and will myself to keep my climax at bay as he spreads my legs open for him again. Thrusting back into me, his pace grows erratic and heavy as he glides a hand down my back, a fistful of hair forcing me to crane my neck back.

“You take my cock so well, princess,” he manages to get out between groans, and I can feel him twitching at the sight as he buries himself deeper into me. “Every last bit of me.”

I let out a whimper at the thought of what a passer-by might have seen, the way Yunho had me bound to the desk and on display for him as he continued to fuck me senseless. He mutters sweet nothings between his strokes, reminding me that he had me bare before him exactly as I’d asked—like a common whore. The force of his thrusts causes me to fall onto my elbows, eyes rolling back and mouth hanging open as his twitching grew more noticeable.

The heat in my stomach becomes unbearable as I gasp for air, my hearing growing muffled and vision blurred as my climax finally approached its brink. Yunho picks up on this, thrusting even more forcefully into me as I cry out his name in a long, languid moan. He slows to a stop, pulling out of me and urging me to flip back over as I face him for the final time.

The sight of him towering over me satiates an endless craving, the way his deep brown eyes were filled with a raging lust as he positioned himself back at my entrance. His hair stuck to his forehead and his clothes were disheveled, soaked with sweat and clinging to his skin. He looked absolutely delectable.

He reaches for his length again, pumping as fast as he possibly could with a hand still clinging to the desk for support. I watch as he edges himself to the brink of orgasm, struggling to catch my own breath as he squeezes his eyes shut with a pathetic moan. With one final stroke, he releases himself onto me, the spoils of his efforts covering my abdomen in thick, white streaks.

We both stay like that for a moment, fighting to gasp down air and return to baseline. When we do, Yunho looks at me with a sudden realization, reaching to unfasten my binds and loop his belt back into its loops. I sit up with a sore grunt, Yunho brushing the hair out of my eyes with a gentle stroke of his thumb. He offers a strange smile, one that I mirror as we both understand what just happened.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” he finally says, earning a raised eyebrow from me—as if he weren’t filling up every inch of me just moments prior. “Would hate for the prince to find out that you’ll be thinking of me every time he fucks you from now on.”

With a lewd smile, he reaches for my gown.

[seobinghard]

PART 2 : BODYGUARD!YUNHO PUTS YOU IN YOUR PLACE

pt 1

18+ MDNI

“spoiled fucking brat,” yunho seethes, breath staggered and heavy as he slides his tongue in your mouth, drinking your moans like it’s water before shoving his dick up your tight little cunt. “this what you wanted? fucking brat.”

you let out a muffled whine at the stretch, "nghh, too big—" eyes prickling with tears, hands clawing at his chest you’ve got blood on your fingertips but none of you care.

yunho smirks at your fucked-out face, hand gripping your throat, watching you grind on him like a bitch in heat. “yeah, bounce on me, baby. bounce on that fucking dick—show me how fucking sorry you are.” 

he’s so cruel, so mean. maybe that’s what you need, you needed him to put you in your place and choke you in the back seat of his car so you can shut the fuck up and actually learn a lesson or two about obedience. 

“i’m sorry, yuyu, i’m— i’m sorry— nghh—” your sobs are met with deaf ears. yunho doesn’t give a fuck, he’s done trying to make you happy and giving you what you want. it’s about him now and whether or not you’re gonna behave and make him cum. “you’re sorry?” he coos, “then be a good girl and make me cum. make daddy cum, c’mon, make daddy cum, i know you can do it—fuck, f-fuck—” a low, guttural groan fills the car as yunho thrusts into you one last time, spilling inside you until you’re fucked out and stuffed full with his load, hot white cum dripping down his dick and onto the plush leather seat of his porsche macan.

“d-did i do good, daddy?” you breathe softly, gazing at your bodyguard with stars in your eyes. 

yunho breaks into a smile, his tender demeanour returning as he places a delicate kiss on your forehead. “you did so good, baby,” he mutters, gently stroking your cheek, “but please don’t make me upset again.”

“okay, yuyu.” 

he knows you’re lying.

m.list

© seobinghard 2024. all rights reserved.

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰: 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱

Word Count: 4.3 K (I told you, It's been in my head for a long time)

Warnings: Jeong Yunho x sub!fem reader, Haunting Adeline AU, DUB-CON, partial somnophilia, unprotected sex, olfactophilia (scent play), sexual persuasion, stalker!yunho, oral (fem receiving), possessiveness, nipple play, jealousy, fear play, manipulation, kissing, biting, marking, praise (princess, good girl etc) and body worship.

Warning: 18+ only of course. This is a DARK FIC and it contains taboo and dark depictions of abuse that could be triggering. If you choose to read further, then you have heeded this warning and I hold no responsibility for your emotional well-being.

No sound was more loud and teeth-chattering than the wind howling

The night used to be your friend, a safe space, a creative outlet for your inner world and thoughts.

But now it felt like it was taunting you, teasing you as you held the coffee mug in your frozen hands, forcing yourself to stay awake as the minutes felt slow and agonising.

You prayed for the comfort of being alone now knowing you weren't...ever.

For He was always there.

Another rose was found on the coffee table this morning, all fresh and pruned with the thorns removed and a piece of paper wrapped around the stem.

The delicate handwriting revealed the next mission of this uninvited presence and it caused you to feel a sense of uneasiness you've never felt before.

My patience is running thin. I'll be with you tonight, my princess. Yunho

You silently walked over to the window that was uncovered by the drapes, watching the raindrops fall on the glass as you peered outside to gaze at the shrubbery and looming pine trees.

You hid in the shadows, trying not to reveal your face as you peered out the front of your domain, no sign of civilian life around you at all.

There was fear inside of you, fear of your safety and for your life sure but there was anticipation and curiosity.

Probably a lot less fear than you should have for the stalker who's found you, isolated you and admittedly-cared for you.

Your eyes lock onto the shadow formation in the bushes, your heart racing as you found your dark knight.

His tall, lithe build standing there in the heavy rain, covered in black and the hood of his parka covering his face except for a small sliver that revealed the plumpness of his lips and defined cupid's bow.

The one that has been sending you roses month after months, all pruned with pieces of paper tied around the stem.

The one that has been leaving nicely-packaged gifts on the empty side of your bed, all wrapped in crimson paper with a pretty rose on top.

All containing gifts of the highest quality such as perfume, a silver necklace with the 'Y' initial, makeup, sanitary products (how did he even know when your cycle was?), panties.

The latest one was an oversized plain, black t-shirt that smelt of musk and cologne, it smelt like he had worn it, slept in it...some perverted part of you wondered if he had worn it whilst jerking off with you in his mind- what was he even thinking about doing to you?

All the messages he gifted to you all revealed the same desires but with sickly, sweet words.

How he yearns for you. How he loves you, how he just wants to protect you, care for you, be your safety net from the cruelty of the world.

His desire to take you, claim you, ravage you, to bend and mould you to his will.

It felt like you were being courted and hunted for at the same time, were you to be his Queen or a gilded bird locked in a cage?

The reality of the situation quickened when the shadow form moved, your eyes locked on how his lips turned into a twisted smirk and he lifted his right hand to offer you a slow, taunting wave.

You quickly dashed away from the window without bothering to close it, running to the middle living and dropping yourself in front of the glowing hearth- wrapping the blanket around your shoulders further tightly around your body.

Ring the police, scream, run...why aren't you doing this? You hadn't even locked the doors...why? What's wrong with you?

The truth was this man brought out a perverted joy in you, the joy of being wanted, of being pursued, a temptation stirred in your belly at what could happen tonight.

He wouldn't kill you (at least you hoped) and you were tired, burnt out, lonely...maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to let him in?

The thoughts were too much for your sleep-deprived brain to cope with and in front of the hearth with a pillow on the floor and your blanket wrapped around you.

You fell asleep.

You lost the game.

The room was steeped in darkness, the only light a faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. The air was thick with the kind of stillness that made everything feel suspended in time.

Yunho stood silently near your feet, watching you scrunch your nose up cutely whilst you were asleep on the floor with the hearth flame slowly turning into ash.

He had been watching you for what felt like hours, the corners of his lips curled in a faint, almost tender smile. There was something intoxicating about your vulnerability, the way you were completely unaware of his presence. You were so peaceful, so trusting in your sleep, and it stirred something dark and possessive within him.

Yunho moved closer, the floorboards creaking ever so slightly under his weight. His breath hitched as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your skin. He could feel the warmth radiating from you could almost hear the blood pulsing just beneath the surface. The urge to touch you, to claim you as his own, was overwhelming. Yet, he held back, savoring the moment, relishing in the power he had over you.

But he resisted, choosing instead to let his fingers trace a delicate line down the side of your face, his touch as light as a feather.

Your skin was soft, impossibly soft, and he could feel you shiver under his touch, your body reacting even in sleep. It was intoxicating, this power he held over you, this control. He could do anything—anything—and you would be helpless to stop him. The thought sent a thrill down his spine, dark and thrilling, as he leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear.

“Mine,” he whispered, the word barely audible, but it sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively curling in on itself, as if trying to escape an unseen threat. Yunho’s smile widened, satisfaction and something far darker curling in his chest. You were his, in every sense of the word, and tonight he would make sure you knew it.

As if sensing the shift in the air, your eyes flutter open, groggy and unfocused at first. You blink, your vision clearing, only to find Yunho’s face inches from your own, his eyes dark and intense, filled with an emotion that sends a chill down your spine. Panic surges through you as you try to push yourself up, but Yunho’s hand is already on your wrist, holding you in place with a grip that is firm yet strangely gentle.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but there’s a sinister edge to it, a promise of something far more dangerous lurking beneath the surface. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, a wild, frantic rhythm that matches the fear rising within you. But there’s something else too, something that makes your pulse quicken for an entirely different reason. His gaze is intense, burning with a possessive hunger that makes you feel both terrified and inexplicably drawn to him.

“What do you want?” you breathe, your voice trembling as you search his eyes for any hint of mercy, but all you find is that same dark intensity, a need that matches your own but twisted into something far more dangerous.

Yunho’s smile is slow, almost predatory, as he leans in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You. I want you, all of you. And I’m not letting you go.”

The words send a shiver through you, a mix of fear and something far more dangerous, something that makes your pulse race with a heady mix of terror and desire. You know you should fight, should scream, should do anything to escape his hold, but all you can do is stare into his eyes, trapped in the dark, magnetic pull of his gaze.

And then, with a gentleness that belies the darkness in his eyes, Yunho releases your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulls back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe, to think, but not enough to escape. The room feels colder without his touch, and you realize with a start that a part of you misses the warmth, the connection, no matter how twisted it is.

“What are you going to do to me?” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your fear mixing with a curiosity you can’t quite suppress.

Yunho’s smile is slow, almost lazy, as if he has all the time in the world. “That depends on you,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with a dangerous promise. “But one thing is certain—you won’t ever want to leave me. Not after tonight.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and full of meaning, as Yunho’s gaze holds yours, daring you to resist, to fight, even as he knows you won’t. Not really. The darkness in him calls to something deep within you, something you hadn’t known existed until this moment, something that responds to his possessiveness, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own.

And as the tension thickens between you, you realize with a start that you’re not entirely sure you want to resist. Not when the alternative is losing yourself completely to the dark, twisted allure of Yunho’s obsession.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but there’s an edge to it, a raw, unfiltered need that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I’ll take care of you my princess, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted… if you let me.”

His hand moves to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the frantic beat of your heart beneath his touch. You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Yunho whispers, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. “For you. You have no idea how much I want you.”

His dark hair frames his lashes and enhances the intensity of his gaze, the parka gone from his shoulders and now replaced by a black, long-sleeved henley shirt and his cheeks flushed red with desire.

His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he’s too rough. But you’re not going anywhere—you can’t, even if you wanted to.

There’s a moment of hesitation, a brief second where you could pull away, where you could resist the pull of his gaze, the magnetic attraction that binds you to him.

'How I needed you'

His lips brush against yours, soft and tentative at first, and whatever resistance you might have had crumbles beneath the intensity of the moment.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, filled with a hunger that Yunho has kept restrained for far too long. His hand moves from your neck to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss, and you find yourself responding, your body leaning into him, craving the warmth and the connection despite the fear that lingers in the back of your mind.

Yunho groans against your lips, the sound vibrating through your entire body, sending a rush of heat pooling in your lower abdomen. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you even closer until there’s no space left between you. The kiss becomes more urgent, more demanding, and you can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to process what just happened. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-lidded, dark with desire as he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, the words a possessive growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “Say it.”

There’s no hesitation in your response, the words tumbling from your lips before you can even think to stop them. “I’m yours.”

Yunho’s eyes flare with satisfaction, and then he’s kissing you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your body with a need that borders on desperation.

He drapes his body over yours and cements you to the floor, his body providing all the heat you needed as he kisses down your neck, his teeth clamping down on the skin and leaving a mark.

A dark chuckle leaves his breath as you moan at the sting, the sensation changing as he licks over it to soothe the pain before averting his attention to the base of your throat.

You could feel how hard he was as he grinded on your thigh, it aroused and terrified you about how big he felt, your imagination betraying you as the thought of how you would take him made your mouth water.

Fuck, you hoped he was nice enough to prep you or would he be mean and expect you to take that thick cock of his without any prep at all?

His hands tug at the fabric of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one fluid motion. You shiver as the cool air hits your skin, but the chill is quickly replaced by the heat of Yunho’s touch as his hands explore every inch of you, memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. “So perfect.”

The praise sends a flush of heat through you, your body arching into his touch, craving more.

Your thoughts were undone when his hands cupped the curve of your breasts, squeezing them gently and kneading the flesh as a moan echoed from his throat.

'So soft, so full, just like how I imagined them princess' His voice was deep, raspy and filled with need as he leaned down and wrapped his lips around the bud, his tongue swirling and suckling as he kneaded the other one with his fingers.

Yunho could be buried in your tits all day and it would feel like heaven to him, his teeth scraping the edge as he pulled away with a thick, sucking noise before moving on to the other.

His lashes fluttered and his moans were beginning to sound like music to your ears, your hands gripping the surface beneath you as you stifled your moans, though you weren't not sure why- no one could hear you.

He pulled his mouth away from your swollen bud before reaching up to gently tilt your chin down so you could see him, his pupils blown-out and dilated- who was fucked more, you or him?

'Don't silence yourself- I need to hear you princess. You can try and fight this but I see the way you respond to me. You crave this as much as I do, even if you won't admit it'.

Your body shivered at those words as Yunho placed kisses down your naval, biting the skin every so often so your body was a myriad of his kisses and claims.

A squeal left your body as Yunho roughly pulled your hips to him, grabbing the fabric of your thin leggings and tearing the material near the crotch region.

You were fascinated at how he could tear the fabric with his bare hands, watching the veins in his hands, neck and forearms dance as he pulled the material roughly down your legs.

'I never want you this clothed when you're with me princess, I'm going to steal all the pants you own. Want you easy and pliable for when I come to your room and fuck you senseless every night'.

Yunho's eyes turned predatory and wild as he buried his nose in your panties, his hands holding down your hips and fingers kneading into the flesh.

The tip of his nose rubbed your clit through the material and your cheeks reddened at the sound of him inhaling your scent, a deep guttural groan resounded through the room.

"Mmm, you smell so sweet, baby. I could stay between your legs forever," Yunho growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands tightened around your hips as he pressed his nose harder against your clothed core, the warmth of his breath sending shivers through your body.

Your back arched involuntarily, a gasp slipping past your lips as he dragged his nose down, teasing the edge of your panties with his tongue. "You're trembling already, princess," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk. "I haven't even started."

Yunho’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was dark, hungry, and it made your heart race in your chest. "Gonna ruin you, you know that, right?" His voice was low, full of promise, and it sent heat pooling between your thighs.

With your panties tossed aside, he wasted no time, his mouth finding its place against your bare skin. His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit, while his grip on your hips kept you pinned firmly in place. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve alight with pleasure as he worked you over with expert precision.

"Yunho..." you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, desperate for something to hold onto as your body began to quake beneath him. He hummed against you, the vibrations only adding to the intensity of your pleasure.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he groaned between licks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could make you come like this, princess, but I want you to beg for it first."

Your body bucked against him, desperate for more, but his grip tightened, keeping you in place. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Say it," he commanded, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me how bad you need me."

Your breath hitched, every part of you aching with want. "I need you, Yunho. Please... don't stop."

His eyes darkened even more, satisfaction washing over his features. "Good girl." Then, without warning, he dove back in, his tongue and fingers relentless as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the room filled with the sound of your breathless moans and his low growls.

You were lost in the haze of pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably as he devoured you, your release building until it was impossible to hold back. With a final cry, you shattered, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as Yunho held you through it, his mouth never letting up until you were completely spent beneath him.

Panting, you stared up at the ceiling, still dazed from the intensity of it all. Yunho wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking as he crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

"That's just the start, princess," he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "You better be ready for more."

Yunho pulled back from the kiss, his lips still hovering over yours, but his eyes were blazing with something darker. His fingers trailed over your flushed skin, gripping your throat just tight enough to send a pulse of fear through you, but it only heightened the intensity of the moment.

"You think this is enough?" he growled, his voice dripping with an edge of dangerous obsession. "No, baby, I’m not even close to being done with you. You’re mine, all of you. I don’t care who’s looked at you, touched you before. From now on, I’m the only one who gets to claim you."

His hands roamed possessively over your body, fingers digging into your skin like he wanted to leave marks—like he wanted to brand you as his. "I’m going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, leaning in to nip at your ear. "You’ll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."

He leaned down, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat from your neck before sucking hard on the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. The bite of pain mixed with pleasure sent a shockwave through you, your body reacting instantly, but Yunho only grinned, like he could feel your helplessness.

"You think you can get away from me?" His voice was a low growl as he pressed his body flush against yours, trapping you beneath him. "You think you have any choice but to need me? No, baby, you belong to me. I’ll make sure of it."

His eyes flashed with something feral as he dragged his fingers down your body, his nails scraping just enough to leave faint red lines on your skin. "I’ll steal every last piece of you until there's nothing left for anyone else. You won’t be able to think about anyone but me."

He ripped his shirt off with one swift motion, revealing the sculpted muscle underneath, and his hands went to the button of his jeans, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he said, his voice gravelly and raw. "You're going to beg me, over and over, for more, and I’ll make sure you're dripping with nothing but me."

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're mine. And I’m going to remind you of that every night, every time you try to breathe without me."

His grip on you tightened, and his lips curved into a wild smirk. "I’m going to make sure you never forget who owns you."

He had you locked underneath him, using his frame and height like the gilded cage he wanted to contain you in. He needed you to understand the size of him, his height, his strength and how he could overpower you in every single way.

Your eyes opened to see his shoes thrown on the floor and Yunho pulling down the zipper of his jeans, both of you naked and the hearth silhouetting Yunho's frame.

He looked like Hades who had crawled out of the shadows, an unworldly beauty only enhanced by the onyx of his eyes which were filled with an insatiable need, a need to brand you with his soul or whatever you were willing to fucking take of his.

His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he pumped himself, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was- long, thick and girthy and your mouth became dry from the thought of it inside you.

"I’m going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, removing his hand to move your legs around his hips, "You’ll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."

You flinched at the feeling of the tip of his cock near your entrance, his other hand planted against the side of your face, his breath ghosted over your face he murmured against your lips.

"Tell me you're mine again, princess. Say it'.

Your pulse raced, the intensity of his words wrapping around you like a vice. "I'm yours, Yunho," you gasped, your voice trembling with both fear and need.

He thrust into you without warning, the possessiveness in every movement making your mind spin. Each thrust was a declaration, a reminder that Yunho wasn’t just taking you—he was claiming every part of you, stamping his presence on your body, heart, and soul. The world outside faded until there was nothing but him, his heat, his grip, his hunger.

'Ahh, you feel like heaven' He moaned out in ecstasy before kissing you feverishly, the swipes of his tongue matching the pace of his hips 'you're my heaven'.

A changed position has you beginning to drool for him as he drops this knees down, grabs your thighs and pushes them towards your chest, angling his hips higher and grinding over your clit.

'You're my life, I'd live for you, I'd- ahhh! I'd kill for you, I'd murder everyone in the whole world if it keeps you safe and with me'.

The overwhelming intensity of his movements drove you to the edge, and soon you were unraveling beneath him, your body quaking as he pulled you deeper into the ecstasy.

As you cried out his name, your voice hoarse from the pleasure, Yunho groaned, his own release following not long after. He held you tight, as if letting you go now would be impossible.

Yunho’s grip remained firm as he buried his face against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. The way his body pressed into yours felt overwhelming, suffocating even, as though he was trying to imprint himself on every inch of your skin.

When he finally pulled back, his breath heavy and eyes dark, Yunho stared down at you with something that made your blood run cold. His thumb traced your lips, slow and possessive, his gaze never wavering. "You can try to get away," he murmured, his voice low and almost too calm. "But no one knows you like I do. No one will ever have you like this."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in your chest like a vice. His lips ghosted over your ear, the air between you thick with tension. "I’ve been watching you for so long... you can’t escape me now, princess."

The possessive tone in his voice was chilling, his eyes wild with a dark obsession. There was no softness here, no tenderness—only the certainty that he wasn’t letting go.

"I’ll always be watching. Always." His grip tightened slightly as if to remind you that he was never far away.

Happy surprise party gift to you from me! This is a sneak peek into next month's Kinktober and the fics won't be as long as this but thank you to everyone who supported me with posting this- I'm about to go to sleep because I'm so nervous.

I'm going to include my taglist and ppl who commented on my post regarding this fic- only read if you're interested.

Taglist: @mykryptonitelight @cursedeastern @sugarnspice630 @ja3hwa @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @gyuhanniescarat @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @laylasbunbunny @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @i-love-ateez @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo @smilefordongil @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @almightyddeonghwa @planet-dawn

[0097linersb]

Kisses to My Exes (m)

Pairings: Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI.

I sat down and wrote this in 20 minutes and never looked at it again, I´m not responsible for anything under the read more button.

Follow me on twitter pleaseeee: wooyosgfreal <3

You should have let Mingi sleep on the floor.

You should have slept on the floor.

Anything but this.

Jeong Yunho was snoring next to you, his arm slightly touching yours because the bed just had to be minuscule. They were right earlier, Mingi would not fit next to Yunho, hence why you had to give him the cabin´s couch. Thinking back on it now, you could have asked to share the bed with Mingi instead of going through this and the realization made you groan louder than you planned to - but Yunho didn´t seem to be bothered by it, deep in his slumber state.

You should not have downed all that wine.

You were restless, tossing and turning in bed for hours, eyes glued to the dark ceiling and huffing in annoyance at yourself. You know how wine gets you, and you still went there and drank a whole bottle of it with your friends at their cabin. Of course you didn´t think about how you´d have to come back to your own cabin later with your ex-boyfriend  - out of all people - and his best friend. Now there you were, horny enough to climb the walls and nothing you could do about it.

Every option already crossed your mind: Locking yourself in the bathroom? With the two of them right outside? Ew, cringe. Taking a shower? The noise would wake them up, even worse than the first idea. Just going to sleep? Well, that´s what you´ve been trying to do for the past hour, but the throbbing in between your legs was not allowing you to.

The covers were too hot but when you took them off, the room was too cold, your pillow was too thin and the tags on your shirt were bugging you. Everything was wrong and you just wanted to scream in frustration –

“Will you quit moving?” Yunho´s deep sleepy voice made you jump in surprise, immediately turning your face to look at him. He didn´t even open his eyes, but you could see by his facial expression that he was annoyed.

The two of you didn´t exactly break up in good terms; actually, you could bet this was the first time he spoke to you alone since then. You don´t hate him - even though you´re the one who broke things off - and you guess he doesn´t hate you either. He is mad at you, though. Has been for the past five months.

“Did I wake you up?”

“You´re practically dancing in bed, what do you think?” He groaned, finally opening his eyes to look at you – and boy did they look angry.

“Sorry.”

Yunho sighed deeply before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. You genuinely felt bad for waking him up so you did your best to stay as still as possible, but the motionless position apparently made the throbbing more evident and it was starting to ache. You squeezed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pain, noticing how Yunho´s breathing was deeper once again. He always fell asleep so easily, it amazed you, truly.

After what felt like hours – but were probably 15 minutes - you allowed yourself to move again, trying to find a more comfortable position, anything that would get you to fucking sleep.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” The deep voice surprised you once again, raspy from just waking up.

“I´m sorry,” Your voice on the other hand was small in shame, you truly didn´t mean to bother him, you were just so uncomfortable.

With another sigh, you heard Yunho shifting in bed until he was spooning you, his chest pressing against your back so casually, “If I help you out, will you let me sleep?”

“Help me out?” You practically stuttered, gob smacked by the sudden touch and the question.

“Y/N, we dated for almost 3 years. I know when you´re horny.”

“Oh.”

“I´m tired so don´t expect too much.”

You didn´t know what else to say besides a weak “Ok.”

You held your breath as Yunho´s hand expertly snaked its way down your sleep shorts and into your panties, a moan of relief slipping past your lips once his fingers traced your slit for the first time. The hot air from his lazy chuckle hit the back of your neck once he felt how wet you were, his pads continuing to trace your slit back and forth to spread it all around.

This didn´t have to be weird considering his fingers had already been inside of you many times before – and Yunho had such nice fingers, so long and slender, so clean and delicate, so beautiful. The thought alone had you clenching around nothing, bucking your hips against said fingers so he´d do something.

Yunho followed through with his words of not doing anything fancy, not bothering with teasing you or toying with you like he used to in the past. It was clear that his sole goal was to get you off as fast as possible so he could go back to sleep, and when the wet pad of his middle finger found your clit, drawing small circles against it, you were sure his wish would become true sooner than later.

As expected from someone who had been fucking you daily for the past years, Yunho immediately noticed how you were having a hard time trying to keep your moans in, his free hand instinctively finding your mouth and forcing two of his fingers inside to keep you quiet. He had to shut his eyes at the feeling of you moaning around his fingers because God, he missed your mouth. Another thing that was driving him insane, was the way you kept grinding your hips against his fingers chasing your high, therefore, rubbing your ass against his cock on accident every other second – He had to bite his bottom lip so you wouldn´t hear him groan.

When Yunho felt you were getting more agitated against him, he slipped a finger into you - and not even the way he pressed your tongue down kept your moan inside. Yes you broke up with him, and yes you´d never admit it, but no man would ever compare to Yunho. His fingers just reached places no one could ever, and he truly knew you inside out.

You could feel all of his knuckles rubbing against your walls, pumping into you slowly a few times before adding another finger, curling them so he could find the spots that got you clenching around him – which again, took zero to no effort.

“Already?” He chuckled darkly, noticing how you were already digging your nails into the pillow in desperation.

Since you couldn´t speak, you simply nodded, bucking your hips against his fingers because it just felt so good. In the middle of the woods, in that quiet cabin, you could hear so clearly the sound of his fingers pumping into you, in and out.

“It must be sad, huh? Not having me to fuck you anymore,” His voice sounded so raw and rough.

You moaned at his words, feeling close to the edge in record time. He was right, it was devastating.

“Bet you miss my cock every day,” His lips were slightly touching your neck as he spoke and it was driving you insane, especially with the way he sped up his fingers. “And I´m sure you imagine it´s me every time someone else is fucking you.”

Once again, he was right, but he didn´t need to know that.

Yunho´s fingers left your mouth once you didn´t answer, finding its new home around your throat, choking you hard enough to cut out your blood flow but not enough that you couldn´t breathe or talk, holding you close against him. Some animalistic part of him saying you were still his. Your hands clawed at his arm and you pressed your face against your pillow so you wouldn´t wake up Mingi as his best friend fucked you open with his fingers.

“Yunho,” You moaned, warning you were close.

“I know. You´re squeezing me so tight I can barely move my fingers.”

He removed his fingers then, leaving you empty for a second before the pads of his fingers were rubbing your clit once again, trying to tip you over the edge faster, applying the right amount of pressure as he drew fast eights against you. Your body was already stiff, preparing for the wave that was about to hit, the sensation quickly growing inside of you.

Yunho felt so big behind you, his groans sounded so hot against your ear and you realized you missed this, you missed him. You held onto his wrist for dear life and closed your eyes, paying attention to each drag of his skin against your sensitive walls, and the second he tightened his hold against your throat, you let it crash down.

Your body shook violently as pleasure took over your whole body, slowly reaching every edge of you. Yunho was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, your moans muffled by his palm as he continued his ministrations, watching you crumble down in his hold. He continued until your eyes were open once again, your breathing labored but stable, your body spasming in aftershocks. He continued feeling you until you were whining over being too sensitive, until you were pushing his hand that was covering your mouth away.

As you tried to come down, you felt Yunho fixing your panties back in place, turning to look at him when he retrieved his hand, watching how he sucked his fingers clean unceremoniously. You were in awe. You wish only love and mind-blowing sex were enough to hold a relationship.

“Thank you,” You managed to breathe out after a minute of silence. When he didn´t answer, you motioned with your head towards his sweatpants, “Want some help too?”

You could see how hard he was, and not only that, but you could feel his cock throbbing against your ass the whole time he was fingering you. The way he kept unconsciously grinding into you is probably one of the reasons you came so fast.

“I´m good. Let me sleep now,” And with that, he simply turned around, giving you his back. “Goodnight.”

Oh, he was really mad at you.

“Goodnight.”

[captain-joongz]

fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

ot8/multiple members

♤ in the same class as ateez by @essenteez

◇ murphy's law by @atzfilm

alien!ateez, soulmate au

♧ into the aurora by @honeyhotteoks

idol!ateez x non-idol!reader

☆ inception by @remedyx

dragon!ateez, kings!ateez

♤ hotel california + paradise gardens by @mint-yooxgi

demon!ateez, yandere, supernatural au

◇ morning mist by @mint-yooxgi

dragon au, fated lovers

♧ deep down. by @seventhcallisto

a/b/o, idol au, 9th member au

☆ in love and lore by @shadowynn

demon!ateez, soulmates au, supernatural au

♤ dew drops at dawn by @sunmoonjune

demon!ateez, soulmates

◇ breed by @sanjoongie

alien!ateez, sexual experiments

♧ oh my *** by @ohmyamor

guardian angel!ateez

☆ first flight to hong kong by @byuntrash101

flight attendant!reader, kind of sex work, since reader gets paid

♤ circus by @lani-heart

hybrid!ateez, writer!journalist!reader

◇ wider by @seventhcallisto

9th member au, bf!ateez

♧ the best friend's code by @tenelkadjowrites

hongjoong, seonghwa x reader, best friends to lovers

☆ we ransacked the city by @tenelkadjowrites

hongjoong, seonghwa x reader, rich kids au, menaces to society united

♤ be the light by @written-in-flowers

seonghwa, hongjoong x reader, historical au, royalty au

◇ sex and embers and frost by @sanjoongie

dragon!seonghwa, san x bunny!reader

♧ between friends by @anyamaris

seonghwa, hongjoong x reader, best friends au

☆ my filthy boy by @potatomountain

bf!woo x reader x witch/hybrid!ateez, coven shenanigans

♤ compromise by @cyberpxnk

bf!seonghwa x reader x footballer!yunho, infidelity with a twist

◇ it's you by @holybibly

best friends to lovers, threesome

♧ sharing is caring by @ja3hwa

seonghwa, hongjoong, san x reader

☆ ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line) + (maknae line) by @eightmakesonebraincell

♤ five for five by @bh-archive

hongjoong x san x chan x hyunjin x juyeon x reader

kim hongjoong

◇ red by @nateezfics

established relationship, public sex, bathroom sex

♧ forbidden fruit by @nateezfics

greek mythology au, hades!hongjoong

☆ deal by @hongism

roommates to lovers, sassy joong

♤ marigold by @yoongiseesawmp3

frat boy!hongjoong, best friends to lovers

◇ tell me to stop by @tenelkadjowrites

best friends to lovers

♧ declaration by @tenelkadjowrites

virgin!hongjoong, roommates to lovers

☆ shells by @last-words-ofashootingstar

mermaid!hongjoong, yandere

♤ project d by @setsugekka

exes to lovers, infidelity, racing au

◇ off the table by @setsugekka

established relationship, morning sex

♧ the dressing room by @imaginidol

idol!hongjoong, best friends to fucking (?) for "stress relief"

☆ paint me yours by @moonseonghwa

artist!hongjoong, fwb au

♤ ohmami by @bambikisss

bad boy!hongjoong, racer au (mentioned), best friends to lovers

◇ hideaway by @minisugakoobies

stoner!frat boy!hongjoong, strangers to lovers

♧ what lies beneath by @noramoons

siren!hongjoong, a little angsty but wholesome

park seonghwa

☆ better check twice by @essenteez

accidental nude au, brother's best friend!seonghwa

♤ attention by @tenelkadjowrites

camboy!seonghwa x inexperienced reader

◇ essence by @whatudowhennooneseesyou

siren!seonghwa, dark, yandere, mommy!seonghwa

♧ the thing about pretty boys by @wonusite

friends to lovers, seonghwa proving he got it

ATEEZ rec list pt.2 BTS, TxT, Stray Kids, Seventeen, NCT rec list

[mingtinysworld]

Shards of Lust

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1k

Summary: you see your boyfriend sporting a new finger accessory and he notices you staring. He wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if he didn’t show you what he could do with it right?

Warnings: MDNI, fingering, sharp object included don’t actually do this irl

Network: @newworldnet

A/n: OK SO RIDKSJSKSK THE FINGER THINGS LIKE HELLO it’s actually been driving me crazy. I want to be fingered by him so bad like you don’t understand. Also sorry this was the shortest I’ve ever written💀 but hope you still enjoyed. Please like, comment and reblog ilyyyy. - J:)

You wake up groggily, slowly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. As you sit up in bed you can see Yunho getting ready in the hotel mirror. He’s almost ready for the Coachella stage, just finalizing accessories and details. He looks very handsome in his black suit, looking like he’s ready for a business meeting.

You let out a sleepy sound and catch Yunho's attention through the mirror. He gives you a soft smile and you attempt to give him a smile back, even though your eyes are almost glued shut. You crawl to the edge of the bed and sprawl out, looking at him upside down.

"Good morning sweetie. Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"I guess. The time change is still messing with me though." You say with a pout.

"Aww baby, I know. It's alright, next week we'll be home and you can sleep in peace." He assures.

You nod along as your eyes graze over every inch of him. You observe the strange ring like accessories that he's putting on. He slides them on with ease and then flexes his hand in and out. You feel hypnotized and feel your eyes boring into the mirror. You unfold yourself from your pretzel form and go to stand behind Yunho.

You fit your chin against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his waist, breathing him in. He tilts his face downward and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.

"Hi baby." He says gently. When you don't say anything and just freeze, he's concerned for a split second. He follows your line of sight and sees your transfixed stare on his hand. You're looking at the contraption that sits prettily on his index and middle finger with curiosity. It makes his hand look robotic almost, and the sharp tips glow menacingly, weirdly inviting in a way.

He watches you take it in, totally enjoying your reaction. He's pretty sure he can read your filthy thoughts at this point, from the way your breathing has stopped completely.

"You really love these, huh?" He asks with a knowing smirk. He wiggles his fingers, and you're broken out of your trance. You redden as you try to act normal, clearing your throat and making eye contact with Yunho.

"I-i mean I just think they're really cool! I've never seen anything like it." You trail off uncertainly.

He turns around to face you and grabs your elbows to guide you to the edge of the bed once more. He sits you down gently and crouches in front of you, looking up with sultry eyes.

"Do you want a demonstration?" He questions. You give him a quizzical look, mind completely blanking.

"W-what? A demonstration of what?" You ask with a nervous gulp.

He flexes his hand and looks down at it. "How this works. How it feels." He leans closer, his lips mere millimeters from yours.

"Please." You plead with a hushed murmur. You’re not exactly sure what you’re pleading for. His lips are finally on yours and he kisses you with a quiet intensity, stroking your exposed thighs. You hum into his mouth, enjoying the feel of his touch on your skin. He drags his hands up higher to the waistband of your shorts and tugs lightly. You get his message and lift your hips high enough for him to slip off the material. He takes your underwear with it, leaving your bottom half exposed. You wiggle a bit impatiently and he stills your moving hips with a firm hand.

"Now be good for me alright? I don't have much time so let's make the best of it." He reminds you of the fact that he has to leave for rehearsals soon. You stay still and anticipate what's to come. He spreads your plush thighs apart, strings of arousal stretching in between. He chuckles quietly to himself and moves even closer. He lays his whole palm against your cunt and you shudder from the feel of the cold metal against your most intimate part.

He moves up and down slightly, making you release shallow breaths. Still keeping eye contact with you, he slowly enters one armored finger. He goes slow as to not hurt you with the sharp tip, although you wish he would just destroy you. He gauges your reaction and is pleased when he sees you trying so hard to not squirm. He speeds up the force of his finger and you gasp and hold on to his shoulder.

"Another one please." You choke out.

Yunho looks at you concerned for a second, but immediately complies as he sees the state you're in. Your eyes are glistening with unshed tears and your mouth is making the most sinful sounds. He can feel his pants tightening with every whimper you let out, but his focus is totally on you for today.

He adds a second finger and you can feel the noticeable stretch instantly. His unforgiving pace makes you see stars and you clench around him, making him groan with gritted teeth. You squeeze his shoulder again, needing something to ground you. The cold metal drags against your walls and sharpens the tight feeling in your core. Once he hits your spongy spot you're done for. Your orgasm washes over you and you gasp from the intensity of it.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and sees that the metal is completely covered in your juices. Before you can stop him he puts the fingers in his mouth and makes a show of licking every inch clean. You groan in humiliation and throw yourself back to lay flat. He chuckles at you and grabs tissues to help clean you up. You stare at the ceiling and process everything. You loved the experience so much, wanting to do it all over again.

Once you're clean and clothed Yunho gets ready to leave, he kisses you goodbye and heads to the door. He gives you a silly finger wave and you wave right back, but before he can shut the door behind him, you hold it open and lean towards him and whisper.

"I think we might have to make that lil gadget into a regular occurrence."

[honeyhotteoks]

an innocent man doesn't stand a chance (j.yh)

summary: it's halloween and your boyfriend has a fantasy. he wants to be the masked killer and for you to be the final girl, and he wants you to run.

note: this was written in a feverish haze of ghostface yunho brainrot, you can thank this fanart and this edit for making this one about yunho, but i have to give all credit for the idea to the nsfw audio creator augustinthewinter who's masked hookup audio killed me. also please read the warnings, this one is potentially very triggering.

warnings: ghostface!yunho x final girl!reader, boyfriend!yunho, hard dom!yunho, girlfriend!reader, sub!reader, sadism, masochism, knife play, primal play/chasing, threats of violence, heavy cnc that really looks like noncon because part of the play is that he wants her to struggle and say no BUT there are consent checks explicit throughout, rough sex, fingering, gloves, masks, breath play, impact play, mirrors, finger sucking don't look at me, dry humping, clothed sex, ripping off clothes, size kink, ass play, lots and lots of degredation including use of sl*t/wh*re/fvcktoy/c*cksleeve, yunho is seriously mean in this i'm not kidding, fear, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie, subspace, there's more i'm sure but this one is a doozy. also lots and lots of aftercare!! after a scene like this i had to write detailed aftercare and confirmation of limits, so that's there too! yunho is v sweet when not in the zone.

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: smut and more smut, no plot in sight

word count: 7.9k

The party is in full swing when you arrive. The house bumping with music and every corner decorated for Halloween. You’re late enough that you can just slip in through the back door, and that was the plan from the start. Yunho arrived first, nearly two hours ago, and made excuses for why you were late, for how you might not even make it to the party. No one would see either of you come or go together, so when you both disappeared to play your game no one would ever know. You had come up with the plan in bed, whispered fantasies and what-ifs between the sheets as he rewarded your willingness to try something new with his tongue. 

His fantasy is special, and to do it right you can really only do it on Halloween night. 

You weave through a throng of drunk acquaintances, searching the crowd for him, but it’s not as easy to find him as you thought it would be. You’re not sure how a six foot something Ghostface killer could hide from you in the crowd of your friend’s house party, but no matter how many rooms you check you can’t see him. Nervousness pits inside you as you check your phone and see nothing. He could be caught up with friends, he could be changing his mind, but you can’t tell if you can’t find him. 

Adjusting your very 90s costume, you dart away from the kitchen where a group of your girlfriends are pouring shots and weave your way into the back of the house. Maybe you can call him? Text him? Would that completely ruin the mood of psycho killer stalking? Maybe, but it’s been forty-five minutes and you haven’t so much as seen a sliver of his mask. 

You flick through your phone, checking for any new messages, and then scroll to find Yunho’s contact card in your phone. Your finger hovers over the call button as you lean against the quiet hallway wall, and then in your peripheral vision you see it. 

A dart of black, something looming, and when you finally turn your head, you see him. Ghostface, standing wide and imposing in the hall, blocking any way past him and back out into the party. 

“Spooky,” You sigh, tucking your phone away. 

Silently, Ghostface nods his head. 

The hair on the back of your arms stands up. This is it. 

“What? Are you looking for the bathroom or something?” You take a step or two towards him, leaning into the character you dressed for. 

He shakes his head. 

“Looking for me?” You bite the inside of your lip to keep from smiling. 

Slowly, he nods. 

“Mm,” You raise a brow at him, “what’s the line from that movie? You wanna play psycho killer?” 

His head tilts slightly to the side and he nods once again. 

“And who do I play?” 

He takes a step towards you and you fade back. 

Fear starts to spread through you, even with it all being pretend, you can’t fight the feeling that your subconscious drums up in your gut. 

He takes another step, and then another, and then you’re running. 

Spinning on your heel you push deeper into the house, away from the party and towards a line of doors down the hall. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, your stomach a bundle of nervous trembling knots, and your hands are so slick with sweat you can barely grab the door handle of the basement. It’s not as easy to run as it looks in the movies, especially not in a tight skirt and penny loafers, and you skid down the basement stairs taking them two at a time until you slip forwards and crash down onto your hands and knees. 

You don’t have time to assess the sudden sharp pain as the skin of your palm drags over the concrete floor though, so you scramble up in a flash and in a panic you weave your way deeper into the basement. 

It’s familiar enough to you, your best friend’s parent’s place. You know there’s a tiny half bathroom in the far back corner, a rarely used guest bed against one wall as you descend the stairs, a collection of old video games and movies, and then around the corner to the left more and more basement, more storage, more dusty nooks and crannies to hide. You’re frozen for a split second, trying to decide the best place to go where he won’t find you, but heavy footfalls on the stairs ring in your ears like drum beats and you don’t have time to weigh your options. 

You take off towards the bathroom, fumbling with the door again when you reach it. 

The masked man behind you doesn’t say anything, but you hear him moving. His feet are sure and quick, the heavy fabric of his robes making a whooshing sound as he darts forwards to try and close the space between your bodies. 

A panicked sound leaves your mouth as you tumble into the sink, clocking your hip hard on the porcelain and bracing yourself on the wall. Turning you reach back for the door, if you just get it latched maybe you can give yourself a second to think, to shimmy out of the very small, high set window. Pushing yourself into action you grab the door, he’s so close you can hear his breath, seconds away. Seconds away. 

The door stops abruptly as you throw your body against it, six inches from closing. You push again, but it doesn’t budge, and when you look down it’s clear you’ve lost this game. His heavy black boot is firmly set in the door’s path, and you know there’s no chance for escape. 

He crowds you instantly, leaving you no time to recover, his body pushing into the cramped space of the bathroom and flinging the door backwards into the adjacent wall. You stumble into the sink and he moves right up against you, the firm length of his body pinning yours in place. 

For a moment everything is still, completely and shudderingly still with only the sound of your hitched breathing and thundering heart filling the room. You’re not sure what you should do - beg? Plead? Stay silent and let him do what he wants? 

The masked man’s head tilts to the side as if he’s observing you, something you can’t tell through the ghostly plastic of his mask and dead black eyes. You’re trembling for real, hands shaking as they grip the cool porcelain. Ghostface leans into you, one of his gloved hands reaching for your face, a soft brush against your chin at first that turns to pressure as his fingers slide up your jaw to push you face to the side. It’s like he’s studying you, his hand slipping lower and dragging down your throat. 

Your breath comes faster, stomach tight. 

Ghostface closes his hand around your throat and your eyes widen. He holds you like this for a moment, his other hand locking down over your waist and gripping you tight, pinning you in place. 

When he squeezes, panic bubbles through your body. 

Yunho’s never choked you before. He’s never even suggested it, despite all your little jokes about how nice his hands would look around your neck. It seemed pretty clear to you that within the bounds of your relationship that was one thing he just wasn’t interested in, but whoever has you in the bathroom knows exactly how to hold your throat and where to press. Part of the fun is not knowing who’s beneath the mask, but your body still locks up, and an anxious voice inside you starts to wonder - what if? It’s not as if Ghostface is that rare of a costume choice, you see dozens of them on the street every year. It’s not inconceivable to think that at this party there would be more than one. 

Your heart beats in fluttering fits and starts in your ribcage as your mind turns over this possibility, and then he squeezes. The fight comes back into you full force when you hear him sigh, his hand tightening even more and cutting off your airway. You wriggle in his arms, pushing against his chest and trying to use your hips for leverage, a startled whine ripping from your throat, but fear laces through your body as you shove against him and realize just how immovable he is. 

Ghostface releases your throat, the same gloved hand slipping into the back of your hair to hold you steady. 

“No!” The word tumbles out of your mouth as soon as you can properly make noise again. 

He crowds you more, masked face dipping by your ear, “Shh, shh,” 

You freeze. 

“Safe word?” Yunho’s voice is a balm in your moment of sudden panic, his tone low and hushed. 

“T-treasure,” You manage it, the realization coming back into your body that this isn’t a total and complete stranger, it’s still him. Your fear starts to melt into anticipation. 

He gives you a squeeze, just one gentle pulse with his hand on your hip to communicate that he’s heard you, “Color?” 

You take a second to assess yourself. This game is intense in a way that you’ve never experienced. Yunho had tried to tell you how your body might react to this kind of manufactured fear, how it would play tricks on you, how even if you knew it was him your body would still have the urge to fight and flee. You knew it, but you didn’t really understand it until this moment. 

Yunho’s gloved thumb drags lovingly over your cheek for just a moment, “Color?” 

If he has to ask you a third time he’ll end the scene, you know he will, but the brief flicker of tenderness in his touch reminds you of everything you already know about him. He has you. You’re safe. This is a game. 

“Green,” You finally answer, “I’m green,” 

One more quick pulse to your hip, he’s heard you again. More than that, he’s pleased with you. 

His shoulders straighten as he draws to his full height, his body filling the space of the tiny bathroom and caging you in. You swallow tightly, audible in your ears and then he moves fast. 

His hands around your waist, lifting you up and then shoving you back until you’re sitting on the lip of the porcelain sink, uncomfortably balanced and pushed back flush to the mirrored wall behind you. You yelp when he moves you, hands scrambling for purchase on something, gripping the sleeve of his black cape in desperation. Fear and anticipation pulse through you, but he doesn’t give you a rest to get your bearings. 

He shoves your legs open wide and slots between your thighs and shoves your face to the side until your cheek is squished against the cold mirror, his hand a controlling brace from your jaw to the crown of your head. 

“You look so pretty running from me,” He strokes your face, but this time it’s not loving, it's possessive, it’s pure control. 

You grip the edge of the sink and whimper. 

“Should we play a little game?” He teases, “It’s Halloween, you must like scary movies,” 

Your breath quickens, “Y-yeah,” 

He drops his voice low, in a mimic of the movie, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

You’ve heard Yunho do that voice before, lazing on the couch last October when you had yourselves a movie marathon, the day he realized something about your favorite scary movie that turned you on, the day you called him out for being hard during a kill scene. It took a year for you both to work up the courage to actually act on any of those fantasies, but here and now with his mask on and his voice low, you feel that mix of terror and arousal bleeding through your body in a way only he can elicit from you. 

You can’t help the little smile that passes over your lips, “Scream,” 

“Meta,” He teases, pinching you hard on the thigh,  “for every question you get wrong, I’m taking something off you,” 

You swallow hard again. 

He reaches into his black robes and then you see it, shining in the reflection of the mirror and in your hazy peripheral vision. The glint of a real knife is unmistakable, the cool sharp edge of the steel crystal clear and you can’t stop the actual fear that jolts through you. You jerk in his hold, instinct driving you for a split second, and he pushes your face harder into the mirror. 

“Tch,” He makes a disappointed noise with his tongue against his teeth, “the game’s no fun if you don’t play.” 

He won’t hurt you, at least not in ways you don’t already like. You have to trust that. 

Settling yourself with a slow breath you summon the act he wants, find the fear within yourself and let it inform your words to give him what he wants. 

“Please, don’t,” You’re trembling is real, that you know. 

He shifts between your legs, drawing the knife closer, shifting it in his hand so he simply presses the cool flat side of the blade against one of your nipples. You hiss at the sensation, tightness building in your gut. 

“First question,” He drags the knife a little over your nipple, “What movie franchise is Jason from?” 

It’s an actual quiz, of course it is. At least he’s starting off easy. 

“Friday the Thirteenth,” You reply fast. 

“Correct,” He lifts the knife, and with the blade pointed away from you, he pushes up your tight tshirt until it’s bunched above your breasts. 

“I got that right,” You glance down at the way he’s touching you, breaking his own rules already. 

“Just getting a better view,” He insists, and then the cool knife is against your nipple again, only the thin fabric of your bralette between skin and steel. 

Your body is aching in this position, but you can feel the heat off his body, and the heady tone of his voice from under the mask still has you starting to ache in different places. 

“Let’s make this a little harder,” He taps the knife against you and you shiver, “what movie has a group of teenagers being stalked on an island by a killer fisherman?” 

“It’s,” You start to answer but he taps the knife again and you jolt, “fuck, it’s I Know What You Did Last Summer,” 

You watched it with him two weeks ago. You remember it, clear as day. 

“Wrong,” The knife twists, the tip gently skating over the swell of your breast. 

“Wait,” You start but he tips the knife under the center of your bra. 

“I Still Know What You Did Last Summer,” He clarifies the sequel, “they weren’t on an island in the first movie. I thought you liked scary movies,” 

“I,” You press back into the wall as the knife edge kisses your skin, “I… I do,” 

“You’re not very good at this,” He twists the knife and drags the sharp edge out so that it severs your thin bra in half, falling open and revealing your breasts to his wandering eyes. 

A little gasping sound leaves your lips, a desperate noise you try to bite back, but he hears it. 

He hums a soft, amused laugh and suddenly the knife is gone, sheathed and away and he leans into your space again, “You fucking like this, don’t you?” 

“No,” You insist, despite the way your stomach is in tight knots. 

“Did running away get you hot?” His gloved hand skims over your exposed body, “Do psycho killers make you wet?” 

“Fuck,” You whine, “no, no,” 

“Liar,” He whispers, and then he delivers a pointed slap to your thigh, “spread.” 

Your legs widen instinctively at his command, but he doesn’t reward you or praise you like he normally would, this is different. He reaches under the hem of your taut mini skirt, finding the apex of your thighs, and his fingers gently rub up and down from the base of your slit to your clit. A tiny gasp bubbles out of your throat. 

“Are you afraid?” He all but growls. 

Your stomach flips and his hand tightens in your hair, “Y-yes,” 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” He finds the edge of your panties and drags them to one side. 

“I don’t want it,” You answer him, body shaking now. 

“Tell me to stop,” One gloved finger presses into your entrance, the softness of the leather and the warmth of his skin beneath it making you tremble. 

“Stop,” You beg, “please, please, stop,” 

“Why would I?” He slowly pushes inside, stretching you around his finger, “When I know how wet being fucked by a stranger in a mask makes you,” 

A tense thready sound pulls from your throat as he adds a second finger. 

“If you don’t want this,” He pulses his hand once, forcing both fingers deep into your slick channel, “why are you panting like a dog in heat?” 

“N-no,” 

“If you don’t want it,” He whispers, “don’t come.” 

Your eyes shut as his hand starts moving, a steady pulse of his gloved fingers inside your aching cunt, curled just right in the way he knows gets you off fast. A pumping drag against your g-spot, the sound of his heavy breath, the unmistakable sensation of your own wetness making a mess between  your thighs. 

“Looks like you want it to me,” He adds the circle of his thumb against your clit and you jerk in his hold. 

“Stop, fuck,” Your nails dig into his forearm. 

“You don’t want me touching you, but you’re soaking my fingers,” 

“N..No, no,” You babble, heat pooling in your gut. 

“Fight it,” He pumps his fingers faster, drumming against your sweet spot, “don’t come,” 

You hiss sharply, pleasure dropping low in your belly, the sensation of his gloves and his hot hand too much to bear. 

“Moaning like you want it,” He laughs, pulling his hand suddenly out from under your skirt and yanking your head back to center. 

You yelp at the position change and the sudden lack of contact but he doesn’t make you wait for long. 

“Open,” He smacks your cheek lightly. 

Your mouth falls open and he shoves both gloved fingers between your lips. You choke against the suddenness, at the way he presses down on your tongue, blinking to clear the haze from your eyes. 

“Suck.” 

You shiver, your lips closing over his digits, the sharp taste of leather mixed with your fluids assaulting your senses and you can’t fight the moan, the way your eyes drift shut as you swirl your tongue. 

He hums, pleased, “Does it hurt?” He asks. 

His question doesn’t make sense, and you blink your eyes back open to look up at the cool passiveness of his ghostly mask. 

“Pretending you’re not a whore?” He clarifies and your mouth stills over his fingers. He pulls them out, delivering one more pointed slap to your cheek, and dives back down to plunge them back into your aching cunt, “Moaning like that, your nipples rock hard, and this pussy,” 

You choke, a bubble building in your core as he abuses your slick channel again. 

“Clenching around my fingers, sucking me in,” He chuckles, “I can feel you, baby,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” 

“Hold back,” He doubles his efforts between your thighs and you keen, “if you don’t want it, tell me to stop, don’t come,” 

“Stop!” You whine, giving him exactly what he wants, “Please, please,” 

“No,” His thumb rubs fast, his hand practiced at making you fall apart at the seams, “you come, you keep your eyes open, and you come all over my fucking hand,” 

Your breath is fast, heart pounding, and you feel the cord tightening in your belly in a way that makes you want to rub yourself back up into his touch but he has you pinned, stuck, at his mercy just like he wants. 

“Come,” His voice is clear, authoritative, and familiar. Like a trained response, your body releases and cracks open into a desperate orgasm, crumbling in his hands as you pitch forward onto his shoulder and grind your hips down to take the last little bit of what you need from his fingers. 

When his hand stills, you realize you’re still clinging to him and you jerk back, one hand over your mouth as you try to recover your breath. 

He steps back, his hands sliding off you and body slotting out from your thighs. You can’t see Yunho beneath the mask, but you know he’s looking. You can feel his hot gaze sliding over your body and taking in every wet and shaking inch of you. Your body is throbbing with need, but the game isn’t done, he hasn’t even made you touch his cock yet, and you know there’s no way you’re making it out of this basement without that. 

“Tell me again how you don’t like it,” He finally says. 

You shiver. 

“Cat got your slutty little tongue?” He prompts you again, voice hardening. 

You swallow hard, finding your words, “I didn’t like it,” 

“Mhm,” 

“I d-don’t want you to touch me,” You lie. 

“Yeah?” He teases, “Well then run,” 

“W-what?” Your eyes flick up to the impassive plastic of his mask. 

“If you didn’t like it, why are you still sitting there?” He takes a step to the side, clearing your path to the door and you slide off the edge of the sink, your loafers making a click onto the tile floor. 

You swallow hard, eyes darting out to the rest of the basement. 

“Come on,” He teases, and you can hear the sick smile in his voice, “try to get away,” 

You look between him and the room ahead of you again.

He leans forward and you shiver, his gaunt stretched mouth at your ear again, “I can’t fuck you if I can’t catch you,” his gloved fingers yank your top down over your exposed breasts and he chuckles, “better run fast.” 

You spring forwards, adrenaline pumping through your body and blood rushing in your ears. Leaping out of the bathroom he gives you a couple steps to get a head start, but he’s so much bigger than you, his stride so much longer, and he closes the distance with ease as you scramble in mock terror to get to the steps. 

Yunho’s arms close around you, hauling you up off your feet and against his chest, his touch rough and probing as he drags you up into the air. 

“No!” You shriek, “Fuck!”

“You think I’d really let you go?” He laughs, “After that?” 

“Fuck you!” The words bubble up out of your mouth. 

“That’s the idea,” His hand slides down your belly, closing over your cunt and cupping you tightly. 

Your body is reacting before your mind, and you jerk in his hold, kicking back your leg and catching him in the shin with the flat heel of your shoe. 

He groans and wrenches you higher in the air, “Keep struggling,” he pants, “I like it,” 

You twist again, trying to free one of your arms, but he has them pinned tightly to your body, “Get the fuck off me!”

“Not a fucking chance,” He takes two wide steps to the mattress and then tosses you down. 

You collapse onto the bed, the old and rarely used springs creaking under your weight, and your scramble forwards in some kind of an attempt to get your bearings, but he’s on you just as fast. He yanks you back with a hand around your ankle and in a flash he’s on top of you. 

He presses one hand firmly between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned face down to the bed, and then his body weight drops down as he straddles the backs of your thighs. Your hands curl into the bedding beneath you, rough sheets and scratchy camp blankets, nothing soft and soothing to take a moment of comfort in. 

His free hand wanders, searching your body slowly. The sound of the party raging upstairs drowns out any competing noise, but you can still hear his heavy breath against the mask and your pounding heart, the sound of anticipation thick in the air around you. 

Yunho presses his hips forwards and you feel the thick hard length of his cock through his costume nestled against your backside. 

“Look at you,” He palms your ass, “shaking for me,” 

A whimper leaves you as his fingers dig into your back. 

“Do I scare you, baby?” He delivers a harsh slap to the back of your thighs and you yelp, “Are you fucking terrified?” 

Another slap leaves you trembling and you hide your face in the mattress, pressing your eyes shut tight. You love when he touches you like this and he knows it. You bite down hard on your lip to keep from whining, wetness pooling in your core. He wanted you scared, he wanted you fighting, you can’t give in just because his glove on your stinging skin feels like sin. 

He groans, his cock pressing down harder to your ass and you feel both his hands slide from your hips up to your back and back down again until he has a grip on your waist. 

A whimper slips out from between your lips.  

Yunho freezes above you, his thumbs massaging a quick circle into your lower back, “Color?” 

“Green!” Your voice is muffled by the bedding but you know he heard it. 

He groans, pulsing his hips to rut his cock against you again. 

Even between layers of fabric, you can feel the heat of him, throbbing and ready for you. Your mouth waters as you picture it, cockhead leaking precum and Yunho’s familiar hand wrapped around the base as he directs it to your mouth. 

“Little slut,” He chuckles and it pulls you straight out of your mental fantasy, “rubbing that ass on a stranger’s cock,” 

Your stomach clenches, and you twitch under him. 

“That’s fucked up,” He drops his body weight over you, one hand pushing your head to the side as he leans over you, “you’re so fucked up, aren’t you?” 

Your breathing is fast, a thready sound in your throat. 

“Aren’t you?” His voice is low, a shade away from a growl, and he rocks his hips again to rub his cock against you. 

“N-no,” You try to shake your head but his hand tightens against your scalp. 

“Liar,” He keeps grinding against you, his free hand snaking underneath your bodies to grope your breast, “I know a needy whore when I see one,” 

You moan into the sheets as he tweaks your nipple, tears springing to your eyes as he palms you, taking you apart with every touch. 

“Let’s see how you like this,” He pinches your nipple once more and you squeal at the sharp sensation that rockets through your chest, a sharp line down to your clit, and then he slides back and shuffles back to sit up over your thighs. 

He pushes the stiff fabric of your mini skirt up over your ass and then you feel the cold metal again. 

You jerk underneath him, and he tuts softly, the sharp edge of the weapon gently dragging over the curve of your ass cheek. 

“Tell me,” He grips your flesh tightly with one hand, painfully pinching, “do you still like scary movies now that you’re in one?” 

You shake your head, a whimper on your lips when the knife slips under the edge of your panties, “P-please, don’t,” 

He yanks the knife up and splits one side of your panties with a taut snap of fabric, “Please?” He taunts, “Please?”

You sob softly in response. 

“Is ‘please’ all you can say?” He delivers a sharp smack to your exposed ass check and you jerk under him. 

“I can’t,” You shake your head into the sheets, “I can’t,” 

He sighs, and you feel the knife shred the other side of your underwear and then you hear the sound of the blade clattering to the floor. With both hands free he palms your exposed flesh, squeezing you almost painfully and inspecting your exposed body. 

Shivers run through you, and you try to hold yourself still for his touches. 

“Which hole should I fuck first, hmm?” His fingers search you, probe you. 

Your body locks up tightly, a gasp on your lips. You hadn’t discussed that, and you shake your head. 

“Scared?” He ghosts his fingers over your rim. 

“Please,” It’s all you can manage. 

“Beg me,” He presses down with his thumb, “beg me not to fuck your ass if you’re so scared.” 

You scramble in the sheets but he has you stuck, “Please don’t, don’t fuck me like t-that, you’re too big, it’s too,” 

He massages one cheek and hums, “What should I do then?” 

“What?” You crane to look back at him, at the masked man pinning you down. 

“Beg,” He says it like he’s bored, like it’s obvious, “beg me to put it somewhere else, or I will fuck this pretty ass open and make you say thank you.” 

Heat floods your belly, your body a sizzling live wire, and you fall right into step with a heady whine, “Please, fuck my pussy,” 

“Again,” 

“Fuck my pussy, please, I’m begging you,” Your voice sounds needy and strange even to your own ears, “I need it inside me, g-give it to me please, fuck my pussy, please,” 

“Better,” His hands disappear into his robed costume and then he pushes forwards, his cock finally free and sliding up and down your slit to find your aching entrance. 

“Y-yes,” You drop your head back down to the bed and in one sharp thrust, he pushes his thick length all the way inside you until his hips are flush with your ass. 

Yunho groans, bracing himself with one hand on the back of your neck and the other on the bed beside you, the mattress creaking with every shift, “Needy pussy,” 

“Fuck,” You moan. 

“Greedy,” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, starting to pick up the pace now in earnest, “gripping my fucking cock like that,” 

All you can do is hold on, bite down on the sheets and let him use you, focus on the sensation of his impossibly hard cock driving in and out and in and out. 

“Are you crying for me? Hmm?” He rolls his hips, the fabric of his costume dragging against you as he fucks into you faster. 

Your eyes are wet, pleasured tears bubbling up and you nod, a tiny sob passing through your lips. 

“Good cocksleeve,” He presses down harder with his hand on your neck, forcing you lower into the mattress. 

Your back arches instinctively, and you whine at the angle change. A few more thrusts and you’ll be done for, you know it. 

“That’s it,” He pants, voice muffled by the mask, “come for me,” 

“C-close,” The words tumble out. 

“Come for me,” He stays steady with his thrusts, pushing your orgasm closer and closer, “come for me, come for me,” 

“Ah!” You fist the sheets, legs starting to shake, “Ah, fuck, fuck!”

“Come on this stranger’s fucking cock,” He grunts, shuddering above you, his fingers digging into your skin and no doubt leaving a bouquet of bruises behind. 

So close to the edge, just a little more will tip you over, and you whine, “Harder,” 

He gasps, forcing his pace to clap harder, deeper, and it only takes two pointed thrusts of his cock into the deepest parts of you to send you careening over the edge. 

“Coming,” You twist beneath him, moaning into your fist, “oh, god,” 

“Fuck,” He curses as your muscles clench and flutter around him, “fuck, oh fuck,” 

Your orgasm has your body locked up and shuddering, but when he pulls free suddenly you gasp into the bedding, “N-no, no, please,” 

He yanks off any scrap of clothing you have on with frantic hands and then rolls you in the sheets so that you’re lying on your back spread open for him. You try to form a sentence, to ask what’s happening but suddenly he’s tearing off his mask and the world slows to a stop. 

Yunho’s sweaty, flushed pink in the cheeks eyes blown wide with need, his plush lips parted and his chest heaving with labored breaths. In a flash he’s stripping off the costume, peeling off his gloves and kicking off his boots. 

“Come here,” He spreads your thighs wider and presses down over you, his cock finding your entrance with ease as he sheaths himself again in one thrust. 

You moan sharply and wrap your arms around his shoulders as he collapses over you. 

“Need you,” He pumps his hips, “have to have you,” 

Pleasure crackles up your body, “Yours,” you nod, “I’m yours,” 

He presses his mouth to yours, kissing you hot and hard, “Fuck,” he groans. 

Yunho gathers you closer, your slick bodies now flush together as he rocks into the warm cradle of your hips, “never heard you moan like that,” 

Your walls clench around him. 

“You wanted me to do this,” He groans between messy kisses, “you wanted to run,” 

You nod, lips pressed together. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He pumps into you harder, like he’s desperate to get as deep as possible, “my dirty girl,” 

“Oh, fuck,” Your head falls back against the bed, a pleasured moan caught in your throat. 

“My little fucking slut,” He groans, tipping your hips open wider, his hands tight on your skin, “so desperate to come on stranger cock,” 

You whine sharply, nails digging into his back. 

“Say it,” He threads a hand through your hair and tugs your head back up roughly, “say it,” 

“Yes!” You whine, “Yes, I-I need it,” 

His gaze darkens, the cool mask of your dominant returning, and he slaps your cheek sharply, just enough to give you a pointed sting, “Need what?” 

Your brain is soft, fuzzy with pleasure, but the slap focuses you and you blink, “Need to come,” you pant as he thrusts into you, “on a stranger’s cock, need you to… fuck, need you to take it,” 

He nods, lips parting open in pleasure, “That’s right,” 

Your stomach tightens, pressure dropping low in your belly and you can’t stop feeling the way his cock punches into the deepest parts of you over and over again. Your eyes close tight and you hold onto him, one of your hands slipping up to his neck to tangle into his black hair. 

“Oh,” You’re so close, almost there, “Y-Yunho, oh, god,” 

His hips thrust forward once more, burying his cock impossibly deep and then he stops. That’s when you realize your critical mistake. 

“Is my cock so good you forgot your manners?” He says and your eyes fly open. 

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to recover, your head is too mixed up to know what’s up and what’s down and you’ve never played a scene where he’s a stranger before. You’re used to your rules, you’re used to calling him sir or daddy or master, but now you feel unmoored. 

“Now you don’t get to come,” He leans back, taking your wrists in his hands and pushing them down flat to the bed. 

You know better than to protest, but you’re sure he can feel you shaking. 

He drops closer, pinning you open with the weight of his body, his head nudging yours to the side, “Maybe you’ve forgotten who’s in control here, baby,” 

Liquid heat spreads through your body and you shake your head just a little. 

“So drunk on cock,” He bites at your ear, “you forgot you don’t want this,” 

Your pussy tightens, and you hear him chuckle. 

“Filthy,” He maneuvers your arms above your head so that he can close both your wrists together in one of his large hands, “fucked up little fucktoy,” 

Your eyes roll back and you fight the urge to move your hips, his words enough to put you on the precipice. 

A sharp slap stings over your exposed breast, your nipple hardening even more and Yunho draws his hips back before slamming forwards, driving you deeper into the squeaking mattress. At the painful stretch, the sharp sting inside, you do cry out. 

“Does it hurt?” He thrusts again, just as hard. 

You struggle under him, a little for play and a little because it does hurt, but you love the way he groans when you please him and you can’t stop, “Y-yes,” 

“Too bad,” His hand claps over your mouth and then he starts to fuck you again for real. 

Pleasure and pain in equal parts spike through your body, a perfect combination to get you right up to the edge of orgasm, but you know you’re not allowed. You moan into his hot hand, the sound feral and taut, tears gathering in your eyes and slipping down your temples into your hairline. 

Yunho slides the hand on your wrists up to clasp your hands together palm to palm, still pinning you to the bed but offering you a line of communication you desperately need in a scene like this. He doesn’t stop, but his eyes find yours in the dim light of the basement and he squeezes your hand once. You squeeze back just once, your silent sign to keep going. 

He keeps driving into you, cursing every time you moan and clench around his thick length, the mask of dominance slipping again as he starts to rut into you with artless, needy thrusts. He’s chasing his own pleasure now, with no regard for your own release. 

“No one’s coming to help you,” He groans, “you’re mine,”

 You can’t hear everything he says, not with your mind spinning so close to a forbidden orgasm and his pants and groans punctuating every few words, but you hear it when he says he’s coming inside you. 

Thrusting deep, he spills himself hot in your belly, hips grinding into yours to milk himself dry as he moans into your ear. The bubble of your own pleasure builds with every rock of his body and you whimper into his hand, tears spilling over as you try not to let it take you. 

Yunho’s hand pulls away from your mouth and suddenly his fingers are rubbing fast and firm on your swollen clit, his cock still buried deep. 

“Ah, n-no, please,” You grip his hand tightly and lock your eyes closed, trying to pull yourself back from the edge, “please,” 

“Fuck,” He groans, overstimulated. 

You’re going to come, there’s no way to hold back if he’s going to torture you like this and you thrash under him, “I can’t,” you’re sobbing in earnest now, “I can’t hold it,” 

“Shit,” He curses sharply, “come, sweetheart, come, I’m so sorry,” 

At his permission, your pleasure rips through you, a hot slice of rapture rocketing up your body. Your ears are ringing, black dots over your vision, and your body wrenches up with tight shakes in a way that only a soul shattering orgasm could do. You vaguely hear your own voice, a babbled string of ‘thank-yous’ and sobs, but it feels like someone else. All you know is warmth, and the deliciousness of earned pleasure. 

When consciousness starts to creep back in, the first thing you feel is Yunho’s gentle hands on your cheeks. He’s murmuring something, but it takes your mind a second to process, and you blink your eyes open slowly to find his face. 

“Hey,” He’s back to soft and warm, your tender lover, “oh, there you are,” 

“Mm,” You manage. 

He looks you over slowly, warm brown eyes flicking over your skin, “Does anything hurt, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head, still boneless and trembling in the scratchy blankets. 

“Hmm?” He nudges you, pushing for a verbal response. 

“I’m okay,” You respond, but your voice is small. 

Yunho, so attuned to you, looks back up and shifts up the bed to meet your eyes, “Feeling floaty?” 

“Mm,” You nod, recognizing distantly that the intensity of your play tonight pushed you right into subspace. 

“Ah,” He smiles warmly, “come here,” 

He gathers you close, arms wrapping around you as he tucks you into his chest and pulls the plaid camp blanket up higher over both of your naked bodies. His skin feels so essential, a necessity like eating or breathing, and you nuzzle into his warm chest. 

“You’re okay,” He soothes you, stroking your back, “you’re safe, you’re safe with me,” 

A heavy breath releases from your chest. 

“That’s it,” He kisses your forehead, “breathe with me, relax with me,” 

Your muscles release one by one. 

“That was just a fantasy,” He soothes you, easing the knotted up feelings in your body with practiced words, “it was just pretend,” 

You nod. 

“Just pretend,” He murmurs, lips tender against your forehead, “none of that was real, nothing I said. I love you, and I will always keep you safe, sweetheart,” 

Your fingers relax, and you realize how firmly you were gripping his arms. 

“There you go,” He murmurs, “I’ve got you,” 

“Yunho?” You manage, your body feeling heavy once again as you start to center. 

He shifts, cupping your cheek as he leans back to get a good look at you, “Right here,” 

“H-hey,” You give him a lazy smile. 

He nods, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “Tell me where you are?” 

“Basement at the party,” You answer. 

“Good,” He nods, “now tell me who you’re with?” 

“You, Yunho,” You reply, practiced now at the routine he uses to help ground you out of the scene and bring you back into reality. 

“Good,” He continues, “tell me three things you can see,” 

You glance around the room, “Old playstation, bicycle,” you look back to him, “your necklace,” 

He smiles as you touch the silver chain around his neck, “Good,” 

You stretch your stiff limbs in his arms and try to snuggle back into his hold but he’s not done yet, especially after a scene that new and that intense. 

“Any pain?” His hands slide over your body. 

“No,” You assure him, “a little sore, but I feel good,” 

He nods, but keeps looking you over anyway. When he turns your hands in his and finds your scratched palms a little line forms between his brows, “What’s this?” 

You look down at the red skin, a few shallow cuts here and there, “I fell,” 

“Fell?” His brow goes high with alarm, “when?” 

“When I was running, I took the stairs too fast,” You tell him honestly, “but it doesn’t hurt, I promise,” 

His fingers trace over the broken skin and he nods, “You promised you’d call the scene if you got hurt,” 

For how rough this man can be with you, for how many times he’s bruised you and made you bleed, he never fails to surprise you at just how tender and soft he is outside of the bedroom. 

“Baby,” You close your fingers over his, “you promised you’d trust me to know my own limits, I’m not hurt, I got a little scrape,” 

His lips close as he considers your words and then he nods, leaning in to kiss each of your palms warmly, “I want to disinfect these at home,” 

“Okay,” You murmur. 

“Anywhere else?” 

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head. 

“But sore?” He confirms.

“A bit,” 

His fingers find your jaw, massaging the muscle there, “When we get home, we’ll run a warm bath. I’ll take care of all your aches, I know I was rough with you,” 

You sigh pleasantly, relaxing into the warmth of his hand and he nods, dipping his face towards yours and capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. 

“You did so perfect for me, sweetheart,” he says softly, voice threaded with emotion, “I’m so… is it too lame to say honored? I… you were so amazing, and you trusted me like that and I,” 

“Yunho,” You smooth back his hair and pull him closer, “I’m alright,” 

His eyes flick over your face, “Yeah?” 

“Yes,” You give him the clarity he needs to know he didn’t hurt you, “you made me feel very safe, even though I was kind of terrified,” 

He stays quiet, like he’s gauging the honesty of your words. 

“Even when I was scared,” You lean in, kissing him quickly, “I knew you wouldn’t take it too far, and you checked in with me. I’m okay, I liked it, I love you,” 

“You didn’t push yourself too hard for me?” He always worries about that, the double edged sword of a submissive who’s desperate to please. 

“No,” You smooth your hand over his cheek, “I liked it alot,”

He nods and snuggles you closer, his fingertips coasting up and down your back softly. He’s quiet for a few minutes, just letting you both come down as easy as you can with thrumming house music upstairs. 

“You liked it?” He finally confirms, carding his fingers through your hair. 

You nod, “A lot,” 

“What I said,” He kisses the top of your head, “during, about you liking it, that was fantasy too, you know that right?” 

You’re quiet, taking in his words. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” He continues softly, “there’s nothing wrong with you for wanting it, all of that was pretend, okay?” 

“I know,” You kiss his chest, nodding against his shoulder. 

“I love you,” He squeezes you, “you know that too, right?” 

You smile, wiggling up in his arms to see his face, “I do,” you kiss him softly, “I love you too,” 

He nods and sighs, “I lost my head a little at the end there,” he admits, “I didn’t communicate well when you needed it, I’m sorry about that.” 

Your brows knit together in confusion. 

“I should have given you permission sooner,” He explains, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “I forgot myself in the scene, I didn’t mean to push you so hard.” 

“Oh,” You smile, “Yunho, I’m alright,” 

“I know you are,” He dips in for a kiss, “but I’m still sorry,” 

“Thank you,” You murmur, pressing your lips back to his, staying warm and still and soft in this moment together, “I know you’ll always take care of me,” 

He nods, his broad hand brushing down your hair. 

“How was the party?” You nudge him a little. 

He smiles, “Fine,” he shrugs, “I was too focused on looking for you, I think everyone thinks something’s up with me.” 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” You laugh. 

“Mm,” He nods, “and now I disappeared and we made a mess of this basement,” 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you cut my underwear off, how am I supposed to get out of here,” 

“I brought backups,” He grins wide, proud of himself for thinking that far ahead. 

“You’re a genius,” 

“There is a back door out of the basement though, right?” He looks up around the room trying to find one. 

“Yeah,” You reach out, pointing around the back corner, “why?” 

“It’s extremely obvious that you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life,” He presses a quick kiss on your forehead and stretches next to you, so casual about the way he just rearranged your insides, “and I’m not so sure you’re going to walk straight,”

You laugh sharply and shake your head, “Take me home,” 

“Scary movies on the couch?” He squeezes your thigh as he rolls away, searching for his clothes. 

You shiver, “Maybe, that might be too close to home,” 

Nudging your knee he smiles, “Don’t worry, baby, it’s just a movie.”

[domm1etae]

Right in Front of You

f!reader x roommate yunho

oneshot | mdni

1.2k

Y/N spends Valentine’s night searching for a hookup, only to come home empty-handed—until she realizes the perfect option was sitting in her apartment all along, proving that sometimes, the best things don’t need to be chased—they’re already waiting for you

nsfw tags under

f/m, vaginal sex, teasting, dirty talk, fingering, doggy style, top yunho, bottom reader, roommates, reader is on BC, roommates to fucking?

author's note: since yesterday was February 14th—aka Valentine’s Day—but i didn’t post anything, i decided to drop a little post-Valentine’s treat ;))

Y/N barely managed to keep her balance as she fumbled with the lock, heels dangling from one hand, bag slipping from the other. She was still in last night’s outfit—nothing too scandalous, but enough to scream I was trying to get laid and failed miserably. Her makeup wasn’t ruined per se, but her eyeliner had smudged just enough to give away that she hadn’t just stepped out looking fresh.

The moment she stumbled into the apartment, Yunho’s laughter rang through the living room. He was perched on the couch, long legs stretched out, nursing a mug of coffee like some judgmental prince.

“Well, good morning,” he drawled, a smirk playing at his lips. “What a sight I have right now.”

Y/N groaned, flipping him off without breaking stride as she tossed her shoes near the door.

“Rough night?” Yunho asked, his tone drenched in amusement.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she grumbled, finally collapsing onto the couch next to him. “What about you? What did you do?”

Yunho took a slow sip of his coffee before answering. “Me? Oh, nothing crazy. Made dinner, played some games till like 2 AM, then went to bed.” He tilted his head toward her, eyes twinkling. “What about you? Who was the lucky one who took you home?”

Y/N groaned dramatically, draping an arm over her face. “That’s the thing. You’d think that on Valentine’s Day, the club would be filled with hot singles, right? But no. Just couples everywhere—kissing, slow dancing, rubbing their happiness in my face. Not a single man in sight.”

Yunho hummed, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “Huh. Well, I was alone yesterday, you know.”

She peeked at him from under her arm, brows furrowing. “What are you saying, Yunho?”

He turned to her then, closer than before, his gaze no longer teasing but intent. His voice dropped, slow and deliberate.

“If you wanted action,” he murmured, “you didn’t have to go to some stupid club.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Yunho leaned in, close enough for her to catch the faint scent of coffee and whatever stupidly nice cologne he always wore. His arms rested on the couch, caging her in.

Her lips parted slightly, a mix of confusion and anticipation making her pulse spike. “You—what?”

Yunho scoffed, tilting his head at her like she was the dumbest person he’d ever met. “You’re actually so blind, Y/N,” he muttered, voice thick with amusement but something else too—something darker, something hungry. “You had the easiest opportunity to get laid right in front of you this whole time.”

His fingers trailed up her thigh, just barely skimming the fabric of her dress, and Y/N felt her brain short-circuit.

Looping her fingers behind his waistband, she tugged him even closer, their lips a hair’s breadth apart. “If that’s true, then maybe you should do something about it,” she murmured.

Yunho didn’t need to be told twice.

His mouth crashed against hers, hands sliding up to cup her face, thumbs digging in just enough to make her gasp. That was all the opening he needed, tongue slipping past her lips as he pressed his body flush against hers.

Heat coiled low in her stomach as Yunho’s hands abandoned her face in favor of something much more sinful—one slipping under her dress, the other palming her breast as he deepened the kiss, tilting her head just the way he wanted.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, fingers fumbling at his shirt, nails dragging over his abs before slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats.

“Fuck,” Yunho growled against her lips, his breath coming out shaky. “You’re really desperate, huh?”

Y/N had half a mind to be embarrassed, but then Yunho was pushing her dress up around her waist and dragging her panties down her thighs, and any rational thought she had completely dissolved.

He let out a low groan, fingers sliding through her slick folds, teasing her entrance before slipping one inside. Y/N’s breath stuttered, her back arching at the delicious stretch.

“Shh, keep quiet for now,” he murmured, smirking when she let out a sharp gasp. “We’ll see how long you last before you’re screaming my name.”

Y/N was about to snap back at him, but then he added another finger, curling them just right, and her head hit the back of the couch, a strangled moan ripping from her throat.

Yunho chuckled, working his fingers into her at a pace that was just slow enough to be torturous.

“You’re soaking wet,” he mused, voice dripping with satisfaction. “All that time looking for a one-night stand, and you could’ve just asked me.”

Y/N barely managed to glare at him, her fingers digging into his arms as she rocked against his hand, chasing the friction. “Stop talking and do something.”

Yunho raised a brow, then grinned. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.”

In one swift motion, he withdrew his fingers and flipped her over, pressing her chest against the couch as he yanked her hips up. Y/N gasped, arching into him as he shoved his sweats and boxers down just enough to free himself.

She turned her head slightly, eyes widening as she caught sight of his cock—thick, flushed, and already dripping at the tip.

“Oh, fuck me,” she breathed.

“That’s the plan,” Yunho smirked, dragging the head of his cock through her slick folds before teasing her entrance.

And then he pushed in.

A broken moan ripped from Y/N’s throat as he sank into her, inch by inch, stretching her out in a way that had her thighs trembling.

Yunho let out a shuddering breath, his grip on her hips tightening. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he hissed. “You feel even better than I thought you would.”

Y/N barely had time to process that statement before he snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt.

She choked on a gasp, back arching, hands scrambling for purchase against the couch.

“Oh my God—”

“Yeah?” Yunho groaned, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. “Go on, baby. Let me hear who’s making you feel this good.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, nails digging into the cushions. “Fuck, Yunho! You!”

He growled at that, fingers tangling in her hair as he yanked her head back slightly. “That’s right,” he murmured against her ear before biting down on her shoulder, setting a pace that had her body rocking against the couch.

Y/N felt like she was burning, pleasure coiling in her stomach as his thrusts grew rougher, more desperate.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” Yunho groaned, his hand sliding around to rub tight circles against her clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

Y/N nodded frantically, barely able to form words. “Y-Yeah, fuck, Yunho—”

Her body tensed, pleasure exploding through her as she came with a cry, trembling beneath him. Yunho followed soon after, spilling deep inside her with a groan, his body slumping against hers.

For a moment, all she could hear was their ragged breathing.

“So... you wanna tell me that all this time I could’ve been getting the best dick ever, and instead I’ve been suffering in silence?”

Yunho chuckled against her skin. “Well, I guess we have time to make up for that.”

[reveriebae]

You Wrote That For Me, Didn't You? [Part 2]

pairing(s) : Idol!Yunho x Atiny!reader

word count : 4915

summary : The night spirals as Yunho’s teasing and touch drive you to the edge, overstimulating you until you're begging for more, leaving you craving every sinful second.

genre : smut

warning(s) : explicit content, overstimulation, dirty talk, power dynamics,mentions of fanfiction and smut, cunnilingus and oral fixation, along with mild degradation, mention of hand kink(?). Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N : I noticed y'all love this so much, so enjoy this little treat:)

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

You didn’t go home that night. Not because you didn’t want to—because you couldn’t.

Every time you closed your eyes, Yunho’s voice echoed in your head.

"Don’t stop writing. I like seeing what you come up with."

It haunted you. The way he had looked at you, touched you, spoken to you. Like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he had already decided what would happen next.

And deep down, you knew it too.

Because just as you had convinced yourself to forget it, to push the encounter to the back of your mind as nothing more than a fever dream—

Your phone buzzed.

A text.

Unknown Number: "Room 1709. Conrad Seoul. Don’t keep me waiting, baby."

Your stomach dropped.

You shouldn’t have gone.

You should have ignored it, deleted the message, and gone home like a good girl.

But instead—

You were standing outside the hotel door, heart hammering, fingers hovering over the handle.

You knew what this was. Knew that the moment you stepped inside, there was no going back.

And yet—

You pushed the door open.

The room was dim, the only light coming from the city skyline pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The air was thick, warm, carrying the faint scent of expensive cologne.

And then there was him.

Yunho stood near the window, hands in his pockets, his silhouette cast against the glass.

He didn’t turn around immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch—so suffocating, so unbearably tense that your breath caught in your throat.

Finally, he spoke.

“I knew you’d come.”

Your fingers curled into fists. “How did you get my number?”

Yunho let out a soft chuckle, finally turning to face you. His expression was unreadable—half amusement, half something darker.

“Does it matter?” he murmured, stepping closer.

You should have stepped back.

You didn’t.

Yunho watched you carefully, his gaze dipping down, taking in the rise and fall of your chest, the way your body betrayed you with every shallow breath.

Then—

He reached out, fingers skimming along your wrist, slow and deliberate.

“I read everything you wrote about me,” he murmured. “Every filthy little fantasy.”

Your throat went dry, is he gonna punish you?

Yunho’s fingers curled around your wrist, pulling you closer—so close you could feel his breath against your skin.

“I think it’s time I see if you meant it.”

Your breathing was uneven.

The air in the hotel room felt heavier now, charged with something dark, something undeniable. Yunho hadn’t even touched you properly, yet your body was already betraying you—heat pooling low in your stomach, legs pressing together, fingers twitching at your sides.

And he saw it.

He always did.

Yunho’s lips twitched, eyes flickering between yours before he leaned in just a fraction closer. “You still haven’t answered me,” he murmured.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

“Answered what?” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

His grip on your chin tightened—just a little, just enough. “Aren’t you going to let me test them?”

You knew what he meant.

Every filthy detail you had ever written. Every desperate, depraved fantasy where you had turned him into something dangerous, something relentless. Where he had taken you apart in ways you had never even experienced in real life.

And now—

Now he was standing in front of you, giving you the chance to live it.

Your throat bobbed.

“…Yes.”

It was soft. Almost too soft. But Yunho heard it.

And he smirked.

His other hand lifted, fingers brushing along your jaw—so gently it made your skin ache for more. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice like velvet. “I knew you’d be obedient.”

The praise sent a jolt of arousal straight through you.

Yunho noticed.

His smirk deepened. “Ah,” he chuckled, his fingers ghosting lower, down the column of your throat. “You like that, don’t you?”

You bit your lip.

A mistake.

Because Yunho’s gaze dropped instantly—to your mouth, to the way your teeth sank into your bottom lip like you were trying to hold back.

That flicker of restraint vanished.

Before you could even react, Yunho moved—swift, deliberate. His hand slid behind your neck, pulling you flush against him, and then—

His lips crashed against yours.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle.

It was claiming.

His tongue swiped along the seam of your lips, demanding entry, and when you gasped—when you whimpered—he took full advantage, deepening the kiss, drinking you in like he had been waiting for this for far too long.

His grip tightened, fingers tangling in your hair, and the heat of him, the sheer size of him, had your knees buckling.

Yunho noticed.

And he loved it.

His free hand dropped, sliding around your waist, pulling you hard against him—against the solid heat of his chest, against the unmistakable hardness pressing into your stomach.

You moaned. You couldn’t help it.

Yunho growled.

“Fuck,” he murmured against your lips. “You sound even better than I imagined.”

He didn’t even give you a second to process before his mouth was on yours again—hungrier this time, more desperate. His teeth scraped against your lower lip, his grip on your waist tightening as if he wanted to pull you inside him.

And you let him.

Because Yunho wasn’t just testing your fantasies anymore.

He was rewriting them.

Yunho didn’t let up.

He kissed you like he was starving—like he had waited too long for this moment and wasn’t going to waste a single second. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming, teasing, until you were dizzy from the sheer intensity of it.

Your fingers clutched at his shirt, desperate for something to ground you, but Yunho wasn’t giving you a chance to catch your breath.

His hands were already moving.

Sliding down your sides, gripping your waist, exploring like he had every right to.

And then—

A gasp tore from your lips as Yunho yanked you even closer—so close you could feel him, the hard press of his body against yours, the heat radiating off him in waves.

He groaned, low and rough, his lips trailing from your mouth down to your jaw.

“Mm,” he hummed, his voice thick with amusement. “You’re shaking.”

You were.

Because Yunho wasn’t just touching you—he was devouring you, piece by piece, taking his time, making sure you felt everything.

His teeth grazed your pulse, sending a shiver down your spine.

Then—

He bit.

Not hard—just enough to make you whimper, your hands fisting in his shirt.

Yunho chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sting.

“Sensitive,” he mused, his grip tightening on your waist. “That’s cute.”

His fingers dipped lower.

Trailing down your stomach, teasing, threatening.

You gasped, your body tensing in anticipation, but Yunho—

Yunho stopped.

A slow, wicked smirk curled on his lips as he pulled back just slightly, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Say it,” he murmured.

Your breath caught. “Say… what?”

Yunho tilted his head. “You know what.”

Your stomach flipped.

Because you did know.

He wanted you to ask.

To admit that you wanted it.

Your cheeks burned, your pride screaming at you to hold out, to make him work for it—but Yunho saw that hesitation.

And he wasn’t having it.

His fingers ghosted over the waistband of your jeans, teasing, torturing.

“You wrote all those filthy little things about me,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear, “but now you’re too shy to say it?”

Your entire body trembled.

Yunho laughed.

A deep, pleased sound, like he was thoroughly enjoying this.

Then—

He leaned in, his breath hot against your lips.

“Be a good girl,” he whispered.

His fingers dipped lower.

“Tell me what you want.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Not properly. Not with the way Yunho was watching you, waiting—so patient, so in control.

His fingers hovered just over the waistband of your jeans, not moving, not pressing any further. Teasing. Taunting.

You knew what he wanted.

But you were still struggling to say it.

Yunho sighed—a slow, amused sound—before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

And then—

He lifted his hand.

Right in front of your face.

You froze.

Your stomach plummeted.

Because you knew what he was doing.

Your obsession with his hands wasn’t a secret.

Not to yourself. Not to your readers.

And apparently—

Not to him.

“You like these, don’t you?” Yunho murmured, flexing his fingers slightly, watching the way your eyes locked onto the movement.

You swallowed hard.

His hands were ridiculous.

Big. Veiny. Strong. The kind that could wrap around your throat, your waist—your entire existence—and make you feel small.

And he knew it.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “You wrote about them so many times,” he mused, curling his fingers slowly, making you watch. “I wonder—”

His palm ghosted over your stomach, fingers spreading, pressing lightly against the fabric of your shirt.

“Were you thinking about them when you touched yourself?”

A broken whimper escaped your lips.

Your thighs squeezed together, your body screaming for more, but Yunho—

Yunho was enjoying this too much.

“You want them on you, don’t you?” he murmured.

Your breath hitched.

His hand shifted, fingers tracing just under the hem of your shirt.

You whimpered.

Yunho laughed.

“I knew it,” he whispered.

Then—

His fingers moved.

Yunho’s fingers moved—slowly, deliberately, like he knew how much it was killing you.

Your breathing hitched as his hand slid under your shirt, palm warm against your bare skin. His fingers traced over your stomach, featherlight, teasing—so agonizingly slow that you swore he was doing it just to watch you squirm.

And he was.

“Mm,” he hummed, voice deep, thick with amusement. “I can feel you shaking.”

Your lips parted, a soft whimper slipping free before you could stop it.

Yunho groaned.

“You love this, don’t you?” His voice dropped lower, rougher. His palm spread wider, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make you feel his strength. “You love my hands on you.”

You did.

Too much.

And Yunho knew it.

His thumb brushed along your ribs, his fingers dragging lower—so close, yet still not enough.

Your head tilted back, lips trembling as a frustrated whine built in your throat.

Yunho laughed.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Are you getting impatient?”

Your fingers curled into his shirt, gripping tight as you nodded.

Yunho smirked.

“So desperate,” he mused, his fingers trailing even lower. “And for what?”

His lips brushed your jaw, a soft, teasing kiss.

“For my hands?”

You let out a whimper.

Yunho groaned.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his grip on your waist tightening. “I should make you beg for them.”

Your stomach flipped.

Because the worst part?

You would.

You would beg.

And Yunho knew it.

His fingers flexed against your skin, slow, purposeful—reminding you of what they could do. Of what they were capable of.

And then—

His other hand came up, fingers wrapping around your throat.

Not tight. Not squeezing.

Just holding.

Just reminding you.

Your breath caught.

Yunho leaned in, his lips grazing yours, his voice barely a whisper—

“Say it, baby.”

His thumb stroked over your pulse, slow, teasing.

“Tell me how bad you want them.”

Your whole body was burning.

Yunho’s hand was still wrapped around your throat—not tight, just there, just holding you, reminding you of the sheer size of it. The way his fingers nearly spanned the entire width of your neck, the way his thumb rested just over your racing pulse.

And you couldn’t focus on anything else.

Not with his other hand still ghosting over your stomach, still teasing, still making you ache for more.

But he wasn’t moving.

He was waiting.

Because he wanted to hear it.

Your pride screamed at you to hold out, to fight the urge to give in too easily. But Yunho—

Yunho saw your hesitation.

And he laughed.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed, his grip tightening just slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to make your breath hitch. “Still trying to be stubborn?”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

Yunho grinned.

“You were so bold when you wrote about me,” he murmured, tilting his head, his eyes mocking. “So shameless.”

His thumb stroked along your throat, slow, deliberate.

“But now?” He smirked. “Now you can’t even speak?”

Your stomach flipped.

Yunho knew.

He knew you were already gone, that you were seconds away from crumbling completely.

And he wanted to watch it happen.

His fingers flexed, his grip tightening just a little more. “Say it,” he murmured.

A soft whimper slipped free, your body trembling beneath his touch.

But Yunho—

Yunho wasn’t satisfied.

His hand moved, fingers trailing down, tracing over your collarbone, your shoulder—so slowly, so purposefully that you swore he was doing it just to make you suffer.

And then—

He lifted his hand again, right in front of your face.

Let you see it.`

His fingers flexed.

And you broke.

“P-please,” you breathed, your voice shaking.

Yunho’s eyes darkened.

His hand twitched, but he still didn’t move.

“Please what?” he murmured.

Your face burned.

You swallowed hard, your fingers clenching in his shirt as your pride crumbled under the weight of his gaze.

“Please,” you whispered. “Touch me.”

Yunho groaned.

His head dropped, his lips brushing against your temple as he exhaled sharply. “That’s cute,” he murmured.

His fingers brushed your jaw, tilting your chin up until you were forced to meet his gaze.

“But I think you can do better.”

Your pulse spiked.

Yunho smirked, his hand shifting again, his palm pressing flat against your stomach now, warm and firm.

“You’ve been obsessed with my hands for so long,” he mused. “You’ve written entire paragraphs about them.”

His fingers spread, pressing into your skin.

“You know exactly what they can do.”

You whimpered.

Yunho grinned.

“So beg,” he murmured.

His lips ghosted over yours, teasing, taunting.

“Beg for them like you mean it.”

You weren’t breathing right.

Couldn’t.

Not with the way Yunho was looking at you, eyes dark, lips curved into that slow, mocking smirk.

Not with the way his hands were still hovering, still teasing, still refusing to give you what you needed.

And definitely not with the way he was making you say it.

Your fingers dug into his shirt, trembling as you swallowed back your pride—what was left of it, anyway.

“P-please,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.

Yunho sighed.

Like he expected better.

Like he wasn’t impressed.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “That’s not begging.”

His fingers traced your jaw, tilting your chin up just enough to make sure you were looking at him.

“That’s just asking nicely.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks burning, your entire body on fire.

But Yunho—

Yunho wasn’t moving.

His hands were still right there, still so close, but he wasn’t giving you anything.

And you were crumbling.

Your pride was slipping through your fingers like sand, and Yunho was just watching it happen.

And he loved it.

Your lips parted, your breath shaky. “Please,” you tried again, voice cracking. “Please, Yunho, I—I need you.”

Yunho hummed, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip.

“Getting better,” he mused.

Then—

He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear.

“But you can do more.”

Your body trembled.

Because you could.

And he knew it.

Yunho pulled back just enough to meet your gaze again, his eyes sharp, expecting.

His fingers flexed, his other hand still resting so lightly against your stomach, teasing, torturing.

And you—

You snapped.

“Please,” you whimpered, desperate, wrecked. “I need your hands on me, Yunho, please.”

Yunho groaned.

Deep, rough, like your words had gone straight to his cock.

His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers finally—finally—pressing firmly against your skin.

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost to himself. “That’s cute.”

And then—

He laughed.

Soft, dark, pleased.

“See?” he murmured, his thumb stroking slow circles over your skin. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You whimpered.

Yunho’s smirk widened.

His other hand finally—finally—slid down, wrapping around your thigh, squeezing just enough to make you feel it.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

Then—

His fingers moved.

Yunho’s fingers moved.

Slow. Deliberate.

Spreading over your waist, pressing into your skin—just enough to make you feel him. Just enough to make your whole body tense, waiting, anticipating.

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath warm, teasing. “So sensitive,” he murmured, his fingers dragging lower. “Is this what happens when you spend all your time writing about me, baby?”

Your stomach flipped.

Because—

Yes.

It was.

And Yunho knew it.

His hand slid beneath the waistband of your jeans, fingers dipping lower—slow, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to torture you.

And then—

His fingers brushed against your clothed cunt.

Your whole body jerked.

Yunho groaned.

“Oh, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with amusement. “I barely touched you.”

His hand shifted, pressing just enough to make you squirm.

Your breath came out shaky, your thighs squeezing together instinctively—trying to find more, trying to chase anything.

But Yunho—

Yunho laughed.

"That desperate already?" His fingers flexed, teasing, his lips grazing the side of your neck. "You wrote so many dirty things about me, baby. So many things about my hands.”

His fingers dragged up, just enough to brush over your tits.

And you whimpered.

Loud.

Too loud.

Yunho grinned.

“Oh,” he sighed, mockingly sweet. “That’s cute.”

Then—

His fingers pressed down on your nipple, circle it above the fabric of your clothes teasingly.

Your whole body arched, your breath catching in your throat as his hand moved, slow, precise, like he knew exactly what would ruin you.

Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in, your mind spinning.

And Yunho—

Yunho groaned.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough, his hand moving in slow, teasing circles. “You’re already shaking?”

Your breath hitched, a broken whimper slipping free before you could stop it.

Yunho’s grip tightned.

His other hand came up, cupping your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Say it,” he muttered. “Say you need my hands.”

You gasped, your body trembling, your mind barely holding on.

“I—I need them,” you breathed, barely able to get the words out. “Please, Yunho, I—I need your hands on my—”

His fingers pressed harder.

Your words cut off into a choked gasp.

And Yunho—

Yunho just smirked.

“Good girl.”

Then—

Yunho’s fingers moved down under your jeans.

Slow.

Precise.

Like he knew exactly what would ruin you.

His eyes stayed locked on yours, watching, studying every little reaction—every shiver, every gasp, every time your lips parted like you wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

Because there were no words for this.

For the way his fingers pressed into your clit moving in slow, devastating circles.

For the way his grip on your jaw tightened, making sure you didn’t look away—making sure you had to see the smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, his voice low, dark, mocking. “You’re already falling apart, aren’t you?”

Your whole body shook.

Because he was right.

You were barely holding on, barely keeping yourself together as his hand worked you over, torturing you with those slow, teasing strokes.

And Yunho—

Yunho was eating up every second of it.

“You’re so cute,” he muttered, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Acting like you’re shy, but you wrote all those filthy little fantasies about me.”

His fingers pressed harder, his pace shifting just slightly—just enough to make your back arch, to make your grip on his shoulders tighten.

Yunho groaned.

His lips ghosted over your ear, his voice barely a whisper—

“Is this how you imagined it, baby?”

Your breath hitched.

Yunho smirked.

“Or is it better?”

His hand moved—faster, rougher, sending a sharp, electric rush through your entire body.

And you—

You broke.

A whimper tore from your lips, desperate, breathless, humiliatingly loud.

Yunho groaned, his fingers stilling for just a moment, his grip tightening as he watched you fall apart.

Then—

His lips brushed against yours.

Soft.

Barely there.

And he smirked.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured. “We’re not even close to done.”

His smirk widened, his thumb brushing over your lips, slow, teasing.

“You’re so cute,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement. “You act so shy, but you’re already soaked for me.”

Your breath hitched.

Yunho grinned.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed, his fingers dragging down, teasing along the waistband of your jeans. “You’re so easy for me.”

Then—

His hands slid down, gripping your thighs, parting them effortlessly.

And then—

His fingers dipped lower, inserting his middle finger inside your aching hole.

You gasped.

Your whole body tensed, your fingers clutching at his arms as his hand moved, slow, precise, knowing.

Yunho groaned, his lips ghosting over your ear. “So desperate,” he murmured. “Is this what happens when you spend all your time writing about me, baby?”

You couldn’t breathe.

Your whole body was burning, shaking, completely at his mercy.

And Yunho—

Yunho was loving it.

His fingers pressed in, stretching you, filling you—so slow, so controlled, making sure you felt every single movement.

And you—

You whimpered.

Loud.

Too loud.

Yunho groaned.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his grip on your thigh tightening. “You’re taking me so well.”

His fingers curled—just right—and your back arched, a sharp gasp tearing from your lips.

Yunho laughed.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed, his lips trailing down your neck. “We’re not even close to done.”

He moved.

Faster.

Deeper.

Yunho’s fingers were merciless.

Deep.

Precise.

Every stroke, every curl, perfectly calculated to ruin you.

And he knew it.

His other hand held your thigh open, firm, unyielding—making sure you couldn’t close your legs, couldn’t escape the way he was torturing you.

“Oh, baby,” he mumured, his voice low, dark. “You’re shaking.”

His thumb brushed slow, lazy circles over your clit, teasing, taunting.

And you—

You broke.

Your whole body tensed, your fingers digging into his arms, your breath catching in a sharp, broken gasp—

A choked moan tore from your lips, your whole body trembling, burning, as Yunho worked you through it—dragging it out, refusing to let up until you were completely, hopelessly wrecked.

His smirk deepened, his fingers slowing, teasing out every last twitch, every last whimper.

Then—

He pulled his hand away.

You barely had time to catch your breath, barely had time to process—

Before Yunho was shifting, gripping your thighs, dragging you closer.

His hands pressed against your hips, holding you down, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

And then—

He looked up.

His eyes dark.

Hungry.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over your skin. “You’re not done yet.”

Then—

His mouth moved.

A sharp gasp tore from your lips, your whole body jerking as his tongue slid slow, deliberate, tracing over your drenched pussy.

Your fingers clutched at the sheets, at his hair, anywhere, trying to ground yourself—trying to breathe.

But Yunho—

Yunho wasn’t letting you.

His tongue worked you over, slow, controlled, his hands gripping your thighs, keeping you still.

And when you tried to pull away—when the sensation got too much—

Yunho just groaned.

His grip tightened.

And then—

He sucked.

Your whole body snapped.

A broken cry ripped from your throat, your back arching, your hands desperately trying to find something—anything—to hold onto.

And Yunho—

Yunho just laughed.

Deep.

Dark.

Completely in control.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “You taste so fucking sweet.”

Then—

He kept going.

Yunho’s mouth was relentless.

Sucking.

Licking.

Fucking devouring you like he had no intention of stopping.

And he didn’t.

Your whole body shook, overstimulated, raw, your thighs trembling against his grip—but Yunho just pressed you down, keeping you spread open for him, making you take it.

“Y-Yunho—”

Your voice was wrecked, breathless, shaking.

He just groaned against your skin, the vibration shooting through you like an electric shock.

You jerked.

Tried to move, tried to escape—

But Yunho growled.

“Oh, baby,” he muttered, his voice dark, amused. “Where do you think you’re going?”

His tongue flicked over your clit, slow, teasing—making you flinch, making you gasp.

“You’re too sensitive, aren’t you?” His fingers dug into your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. “But you can take it.”

His mouth closed over your clit again.

And then—

He sucked.

Your whole body snapped.

A scream tore from your lips, your back arching, your hands flying to his hair—pulling, desperate, trying to stop him.

But Yunho just groaned.

“You taste too fucking good,” he muttered, voice muffled against your skin. “You think I’m stopping now?”

Your breath was ragged, your thighs shaking violently—but he was still eating you up, still licking, still sucking, still pushing you higher even though you were already gone.

And you—

You sobbed.

Overwhelmed.

Wrecked.

Completely ruined.

Yunho moaned, dragging it out, sending another sharp shockwave through your entire body.

Then—

He finally pulled away.

You could barely breathe, your whole body trembling, the aftershocks still rolling through you.

And Yunho—

Yunho just grinned.

His lips were swollen, shiny with your arousal, his eyes dark and ravenous.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, dragging his fingers over your thighs, slow, teasing. “You’re fucking ruined already.”

Your chest heaved, your mind spinning—but before you could recover, Yunho was moving.

Shoving his jeans down.

Stroking himself, slow, deliberate, letting you see how fucking hard he was.

“Turn over,” he muttered, voice rough, demanding.

Your stomach flipped.

But your body obeyed.

Shaky, unsteady, completely at his mercy.

And Yunho—

Yunho groaned.

His hands gripped your hips, his thumbs pressing into your skin, holding you in place.

And then—

The blunt, thick head of his cock dragged against your pussy.

Your whole body tensed.

Yunho chuckled.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed, pressing just a little harder. “You’re still fucking shaking.”

Then—

He pushed in.

Slow.

Deep.

Fucking stretching you around him.

And you—

You moaned.

Loud.

Too loud.

And Yunho—

Yunho slammed in.

Deep.

Brutal.

Splitting you open, stretching you wide around his thick, aching cock, knocking the breath right out of your lungs.

And he groaned. “Fuck,” he gritted out, his grip on your hips bruising, keeping you still as he bottomed out, as he let you feel every inch of him.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your back, pressing you down into the mattress.

“You’re squeezing me so fucking good.” Your breath was ragged, your whole body trembling, wrecked from how hard he was stretching you.

But Yunho—

Yunho wasn’t waiting.

He pulled out— Then snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt again.

"Yunho!" You cry out.

The force of it sent another sharp shockwave through your whole body—too much, too good, too fucking deep.

And Yunho—

Yunho snickered.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed, rolling his hips just right, making your whole body jolt.

“You’re already crying?” His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you still as he set a pace—brutal, merciless, slamming into you with sharp, punishing thrusts that sent you reeling.

And the sounds— The filthy, wet smacks of skin against skin, the way your breath hitched with every deep, devastating thrust— It was too much.

Yunho groaned, one hand sliding up, gripping the back of your neck, forcing your face down into the sheets. “Take it, baby,” he muttered, his voice dark, wrecked, dripping with amusement.

“This is what you fucking wanted, isn’t it?” Your nails scratched at the sheets, your whole body shaking— Then— His other hand slid between your thighs. And his fingers— Found your clit.

Your whole body snapped.

A scream tore from your throat, your entire body convulsing, the pleasure so sharp, so fucking intense you thought you were going to black out.

And Yunho—

Yunho moaned. “Fucking hell, baby,” he muttered, his thrusts getting harder, faster, completely chasing his high.

“You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.” His fingers didn’t stop.

Even as you twitched, as your body shook from the overstimulation, as your thighs trembled, Yunho kept going. Kept pounding into you. Kept fucking ruining you.

And you—

You broke.

Again.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, your whole body wrecked, trembling, completely at his mercy.

And Yunho— Yunho groaned, his pace getting sloppy, his grip tightening.

“Oh, baby,” he muttered, voice wrecked, desperate.

“You feel too fucking good—” Then— He snapped his hips in deep, burying himself completely— And he came.

A low, guttural moan ripped from his throat, his grip bruising as he pulsed inside you, filling you up, spilling deep, marking you completely.

His breath was ragged, his hands sliding up your back, his body pressing against yours. And then— Silence.

Just the sound of both of you breathing, completely wrecked, completely spent.

Yunho chuckled.

Low.

Dark.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, pressing a slow, lazy kiss against your shoulder.

“You’re fucking ruined.” His lips ghosted over your ear.

“I hope you know, this is just for the inspirations” he muttered, amusement dripping from his tone.

“and I’m not done with you yet.”

[jinkoh]

pressure points

yunho x fem!reader

summary: your physical therapy is getting very physical

tags: physiotherapist!yunho, smut (mdni), reader is painfully horny (especially for yunho's hands), tension, kissing, teasing, fingering; feat. woosan as your bffs

wc: 3.2k

a/n: started writing this back when i went to physiotherapy--but i swear it's only partially inspired by real occurrences, my therapist was very professional

masterlist

Usually, your weekly meet ups with your best friends—or girls’ night as Wooyoung liked to call it, even when you were the only one who technically qualified—were your sanctuary, your safe space, your chance to decompress after a stressful week at work. But usually your non-existent sex life wasn’t the topic of the night, nor were you interrogated over your relationship to your new physiotherapist. You were quickly starting to regret ever mentioning him or his big hands or cheeky smile or— 

“I know I'm barely one to talk,” Wooyoung said, clearly amused over the whole situation and not at all willing to change topic, “but you’re like pathetically horny.”

“No, listen,” you started, pointing at him with the pretzel stick you’d been nibbling on. “Yunho just has—”

“Yunho?” Wooyoung snorted, “You’re on first name basis with your physiotherapist?”

“Don’t make it weird, that’s just their policy and it makes it more comfortable too.”

“Mhm, right. Except you’re maybe getting a little too comfortable.”

Before you could retort, San let himself plop onto the empty chair at your table. “What did I miss?” He asked casually while scanning the drinks menu (as if he didn’t already know his order).

“Nothing much,” Wooyoung replied, “I'm getting a promotion and y/n wants to fuck her physiotherapist.”

“Woo!”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “What, it’s true.”

“It’s not! He just—it’s not my fault that he touched my hips like that!”

“Y/n, honey, he was showing you an exercise.”

“Well, yeah, but his hands are just kinda sexy and—” you trailed off when you saw San pulling a face. “What?”

San shook his head with a sigh, “Girl, you want to fuck him so bad.”

Maybe your friends had a point, because despite your tiring work day and the way your joints were aching with exhaustion, you found yourself feeling giddy for your next appointment with Yunho. The only thing putting a damper on your mood was that after today you only had one more session left, when really you wished you could keep going forever. 

The clinic was rather quiet and the lights in the back were already off—you always had the last time slot of the day and you rarely met other patrons when you came in. Today was no different, the only people you could spot were Yunho and one of his colleagues.

“Hey,” Yunho greeted you with a soft smile, briefly looking up before focusing back on where he seemed to be typing something into the computer behind the counter, “On time as always.”

“Of course,” you replied with a smile, feeling your cheeks heat up for literally no reason at all. 

“Very commendable,” he grinned and then his eyes darted up to you once more, almost as if he was accessing you, “You can already get into room 2, I’m with you in a second,” he nodded towards a door before turning to his colleague, “Mingi, can you look this over for me?”

“Sure, no problem,” the other man replied, hovering over the screen of the computer too. Your gaze lingered on the scene a second longer, taking in how Yunho adjusted the glasses sitting on his nose, but when he looked up, meeting your gaze in a question, you quickly hurried into the room he’d pointed at. It was a smaller one than usual; the mirror, yoga mats and other equipment you were used to replaced by a massage table that you awkwardly sat down on while you waited. It only took another one or two minutes for Yunho to appear in the doorframe.

“You were looking kind of tired, so I thought it’s a good idea to do something more relaxing today,” he said as he walked in, closing the door behind him. He had your files in his hand, scribbling something down before leaving the clipboard on the little shelf in the corner, “But remember you still have to do the exercises at home though. And no slouching.”

“Aye, Sir,” you replied with a playful salute that got frozen mid-air when he met your gaze with a smile and a cheeky “Good girl.” Good. Girl. How the fuck were you supposed to survive this?

“Alright,” he continued, all professional, as if he hadn’t just hit you out of left field with his comment, “we’ll loosen up your muscles a bit, in the neck and upper back area, since that’s where you’re having the most trouble. Please lay down on your stomach with your head on this side,” he briefly tapped the head rest, “and it’d be good if you removed your top so I have access to your back—I can go out for a second if you prefer.”

You knew there were no hidden motives there, after all he was a professional and this was his job. But the thought of undressing in front of the guy you’d been having somewhat inappropriate thoughts of was still making your heart race.

“Uhm, no, it’s okay,” you stuttered, turning your upper body away from him as you slipped out of your shirt, holding the fabric close to your chest. “B—my bra too?”

“No, it’s okay, we can just—” he reached out and you felt his fingers gently brush your skin as he pushed the straps of your bra down your shoulders, “move them out of the way like this.” His touch left goosebumps in its wake and maybe it was your wishful thinking, but you thought his fingers lingered a second longer than necessary. Then he pulled away though, clearing his throat and stepping aside so you had enough space to lie down. He took a seat on a little rolling chair at the top of the table and you could see his legs through the hole of the headrest.

His hands felt warm and soft as he smoothed them over your upper back a few times before he started rubbing out the sore spots in your neck. You felt the way the tension was seeping out of you, making you feel relaxed and at ease. At least until he spoke up again with his sweet honey voice.

“It’s okay if it hurts a little, but if you’re in so much pain that you want to scream, do tell me. We don’t want that.” He let his hands move to your left shoulder blade, finding one of your pressure points, “For it to hurt that badly, I mean. I don’t mind if you scream.” He chuckled and you huffed out a laugh as well while your cheeks were heating up for nth time that day. It was a good thing he couldn’t see your face right now. “Uh, yeah, I’ll let you know," you replied but all you could think about was him making you scream. Your silly brain couldn't help but wonder if he liked a vocal partner. 

Yunho seemed blissfully unaware of your inner tumult, rubbing out the knots in your back completely unbothered. “This still okay?” He asked as he moved to another point and you felt yourself gasp a little at the initial pain. It wasn’t exactly a bad pain though. Something about the light sting was almost pleasurable.

“Still okay,” you assured and he hummed in affirmation as his fingers kept moving. He was skilled and precise in his ministrations, and you knew he had to be, with this being his literal job, but the thought that perhaps his fingers were skillful in other places too wouldn’t leave your mind for the rest of the massage. 

It was over too quickly for your liking, ended by him gently moving the straps of your bra back up your shoulders. “Alright,” he said, scooting away from the table to give you some space, “That’s it for today.”

“Thanks, I really needed that,” you mumbled as you sat up, just to immediately regret your words. You sounded like a pathetic, touch starved horndog. 

“Mhm,” he hummed and you couldn’t read his expression as he took a note in your files, “I could see that.”

“So, what if I do want to fuck him?”

Wooyoung let out a giggle, “Finally admitting to it, huh?”

“Just go for it,” San advised, “It’s gonna be your last appointment anyway.” 

That was a reminder you really didn’t want to hear, so you quickly shoved the thought aside in favor of more pressing questions.. “But what’s that supposed to mean? How would I even go for it?”

“Well, do it the way you normally would,” Wooyoung said matter of factly, “You know how to flirt, right?”

“I—I don’t. Not like that. I never really tried to get into anyone’s pants before,” you admitted.

San raised an eyebrow, “So you just had people coming at you without even trying? What a flexer.”

“Don’t tease me, Sannie, you know it’s not like that. It’s just that there’s usually dating involved. I’ve never slept with anyone I wasn’t at least casually dating.”

“Date him then,” San simply replied but Wooyoung shook his head. “Way too time consuming. She wants a quick fix, not a slow-burn romance. Take this as a learning opportunity, y/nnie.”

“Well, then teach me! What do I do?”

“Oh? Teach me?” San said with a smirk, “That’s kinda hot.”

“I gotta agree, but we’re getting off topic here.” Wooyoung fished a pretzel stick out of the glass on the table and took a bite of it before he continued, “So, the important thing is to show him you’re interested. But don’t make it romantic, you don't want a coffee invite."

"Actually I wouldn't mind a coffee—"

"Yeah, and you can have your coffee—after taking care of how fucking pent-up you are." He let the rest of his pretzel stick disappear into his mouth, still chewing as he continued, "He’s your physiotherapist, there’s gotta be plenty of chances for him to get his hands on you. Just subtly let him know you really like it.”

“Yeah,” San agreed, before coming back to his initial advice: “Just go for it.”

For your last appointment he sent you to room number 4, the one with the mirror and the yoga mats and other equipment that you knew all too well. After last week's session you found yourself filled with disappointment. For a moment you stood in the doorway, until Yunho came over, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Not going in?”

San’s words were ringing in your head: Just go for it. Wooyoung’s advice on subtlety must have gotten lost on you though, but who was Wooyoung to give that advice anyway?

“Uhm, I was thinking—you know I’m feeling kind of tired today…” You trailed off, your eyes darting over to room number 2, where the ajar door revealed the massage table.

He met your words with a chuckle. “Are you saying you want a massage for our last appointment? Did you like it that much?”

“It just seemed to really help with my sore spots…”

“Hmm,” he hummed, his arms crossed in front of his body thoughtfully, “I do think we should go through the exercises I taught you at least once—to make sure you remember them correctly and can do them at home. Don’t want you coming back here in another three weeks.”

“You don’t want me to come back?”

Yunho’s eyes widened for a moment there before he let out a chuckle, “Not if it means you’re in pain again.”

“Didn’t you say it’s okay if it hurts a little?”

He shook his head in disbelief, “I feel like I’m not getting anywhere here, so let’s make a compromise—first a quick run down of the exercises and then for the remaining time you can get on the table for me, hm?”

Get on the table for me. You tried not to think anything of the words he’d chosen, tried not to let your brain warp them until they held a different meaning altogether, but it was hopeless. The worst part was, that you couldn’t help feeling like he was doing this on purpose, reveling in the way your gaze turned feverish and your cheeks flushed red with heat.

The quick run down was almost agonizing. He did keep his promise to make it short, but every time he stepped into your personal space to fix your posture, you felt your skin tingling with anticipation and need. When you finally, finally went over to room 2, you were more than ready to skip the massage and go for other activities instead. You pulled yourself together though, and did not jump him the moment he closed the door. Instead, you took off your shirt and laid down on the table like last time. Yunho sat at the head end once more, working his magic on your neck and shoulders. When he moved his hands a little further down your back, they briefly got caught on your bra.

“Sorry about that,” he said, his voice calm and smooth.

You bit your lower lip. This seemed like a pretty good chance, didn’t it?

“You can take it off, if you want to. I don’t mind.”

He halted for a moment, and maybe if you could see his face you’d be able to read his expression, but with your eyes facing the floor you were stuck wondering what he was thinking.

“Are you sure?” Yunho asked after a moment and there was something in his voice that made it feel like his question wasn’t just about the massage.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

It only took a second for him to unhook your bra, the fabric falling to the side of your body. His fingers seemed to trace the place where it’d sat, maybe following the light imprints it’d left behind. 

“You have pretty skin,” he said eventually, his voice just a whisper.

“Yeah?” Your heart was racing in your chest with nerves and anticipation of what could possibly happen.

“Yeah,” his index finger gently wandered over your spine, “It feels nice to touch.”

“It feels nice when you touch me, too.”

He hesitated for a moment and the brief silence was killing you. “I could do it more,” he finally said.

“I’d like that.”

“Turn around for me?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you immediately turned to lay on your back, losing your bra along the way. The moment you were facing up, he leaned down, crashing his lips into yours. The angle was kind of awkward with the way you were technically upside down from his point of view, but neither of you seemed to really care as you devoured each other in a kiss you’d been anticipating for weeks.

When he eventually pulled away, both of you breathless, there was a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Isn’t this kind of like spiderman?” he asked and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I didn’t know my hot physiotherapist was a nerd.”

“So, I’m hot?”

You rolled your eyes before your hand reached out to pull him close again, “Aren’t we kinda past that?”

“Right,” he grinned into your lips, “I guess so.”

He kissed you again before he pulled away to get up from his chair, the angle too awkward to really touch, and he was dying to get his hands all over you. You sat up on the table, letting your legs dangle off one side, and he swiftly moved to stand between them, caging you in with his hands  on either side of your hips. 

“We’re the only ones here, right?” you asked, just to make sure.

“Yeah,” he pecked the corner of your mouth before kissing his way to your jaw and then down to your collar bone, “Mingi left a while ago and the cleaning staff only comes in the morning.”

“Good,” you leaned back and tilted your neck to give him more access, reveling in the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin. 

His hands moved to your body, one of them keeping you steady as the other tugged at the hem of your jeans. “Can we take this off?”

You nodded a little too quickly, your hands immediately flying to the button to help him undo it. 

“So eager,” he commented with that smug smile of his before he helped you drag the pants off your legs, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He let his thumb lightly rub over the thin and embarrassingly wet fabric, smile growing wider as you let out a little whimper. “Why do I feel like you haven’t been focusing on treatment at all and were instead thinking of—” he flicked his thumb over your clothed clit, “something else?”

“I couldn’t help it,” you whimpered, “not my fault your hands are—like that.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” you whimpered once more when his long fingers started to run over your folds, pushing aside your panties to touch you directly, “sexy.”

“They are sexy? Like, when I fix your posture? Or give you a massage?,” he asked, leaving more bites and kisses on your neck, “Or when I do this?” He slipped one of his fingers into you without warning, making you gasp in surprise.

“Yeah,” you pressed out, your mind starting to lose focus as he was moving inside of you, “it’s sexy.”

“That’s good to hear,” he whispered into your skin before adding a second digit and curling them inside of you. You arched off the table at the sensation of it, your body instinctively trying to get away from the intense feeling, but his other hand on your hip kept you in place. He gradually increased his pace, his fingers mercilessly abusing the sensitive spots inside of you and you were already feeling like you were losing your mind. When he moved his thumb back to your clit, applying just the right kind of pressure, you snapped almost immediately, your high washing over you in a sudden and intense wave. Yunho wasn’t letting up quite yet though, still working his skillful hands and prolonging your orgasm until the over sensitivity made you whine. When he finally pulled away, he looked at his fingers for a moment, admiring your glistening juices on them before he licked them clean one by one.

“That was nice,” he said with a smile, as if you had just done him a service and not the other way round. Still, you agreed with a hazy nod. 

He pulled your panties back into place before leaning in for a kiss. “How about I take you out for a coffee sometime?”

“So, uh, what if I don’t want to just fuck him?”

“Weren’t we over this?” Wooyoung took a sip of his beer, before your words really registered, “Wait, are you saying you have feelings for him?!”

“I—I don’t know, he’s just—” you dropped your face onto the table with a sigh, “he’s just so charming.”

"See?" San said with a triumphant grin, "So much for a quick fix."

“Well, then I hope you at least got his number.”

Now a smile spread on your lips, too, “I even got that coffee invite.”

masterlist | pls consider reblogging if you enjoyed this~

[cyberseong]

extra credit.

pairing: yunho x f!reader

genre: smut/pwp, professor!yunho, non idol au

warnings/topics: not proofread, there’s quite a bit if plot before it gets to the actual smut, dom!yunho, sub!reader, blowjob, facefucking, unprotected sex, yunho’s a bit mean in the beginning, use of pet names (sweetheart, princess)

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i haven’t posted on here in months, but i wrote this so i could at least get something out. i might be able to post more regularly soon, but anyway, enjoy! notes/reblogs are appreciated!

it’s nearing the end of april— which only meant that the long, excruciating exam season was upon you, just like it was for every other student enrolled in college.

you’ve been studying your ass off, but the amount of assignment and project deadlines that were creeping up on you made all your effort look meaningless. with more near-failing grades than you’d like to have, you decided on requesting grade improvement opportunities from the professors of these classes.

the first two gave you extra credit assignments with no hassle— something you could do quickly for a decent grade boost, as not even the professors wanted to be stuck grading them as a side quest during a month where they were already overwhelmed with important papers to grade.

you made it to the room which held your third and last professor that you’d bother for the day— professor jeong. he taught business ethics; it should’ve been an easy passing grade, but professor jeong was someone who wanted to make his class a living hell for his students, simply because he had the time and was getting paid to do so. he made it a mission to give out intricate and detailed assignments, even selecting a 20-page paper as your semester final.

he definitely wasn’t going to be lenient when it came to extra credit assignments either.

taking in a deep breath, you knocked on his office door, waiting to hear his exasperated “come in” before opening the door and sliding into the room.

he looked incredibly tired, more so than usual; stacks of students’ finals were sprawled out on his desk. surely he’s regretting his petty decision of giving such a hard assignment right about now. regardless, his frustration only made him more attractive than he already was normally; you’d be lucky if you could make it out of his office alive with the way his intense gaze made you so uncomfortably hot.

“good afternoon professor jeong… i wanted to ask if any extra credit assignments were availab–”

“no. if you really wanted a passing grade this semester, y/n, you would’ve made that project that was turned in a few days ago look a little less rushed and pathetic than it was.” yunho spoke with a flat tone, only looking away from his computer once to give you a strong, disappointed look as he finished his critique.

“well– yes, that is true, i’m truly sorry about that professor… i’ve been so swamped with studying and going to class and working that i didn’t have much time for the assignment… even a small extra credit assignment would do, or even an extension on the original–”

“was i not clear enough the first time? even on the first day of my class, i made it very clear to everyone that half-assed work would not be tolerated nor forgiven. i will not be giving you an extra credit opportunity, y/n.”

the way he spoke down to you so sternly alone was enough to make you quiver; the man was the living and breathing embodiment of sex appeal itself; you had to be extra careful in not letting your mind drift off even while having such a serious conversation with him.

you were almost certain he had seen the way you looked at him. the tone in which he reprimanded might as well have caused you to come undone right there in the middle of his office. most of the people who took his class only registered for it because of how hot he was compared to the other old and worn out professors that taught classes for your major. so, could you really be faulted for following in everyone else’s footsteps?

“are you sure there’s nothing i could do to bring my grade up? i really need to pass my classes this semester, i’ll do anything, please,” you felt so pathetic begging him for a chance at the possibility of a grade improvement, but it was better than retaking his entire class again after the summer.

yunho sighed before taking his reading glasses off of his face, finally removing his attention from his screen in order to analyze the situation at hand. the underlying suggestive intent of your words caused him to cock an eyebrow; he takes in your position over his desk, the way your slightly leaning into it and the way your cleavage is on full display in front of his face at the moment told him all he needed to know about your request.

a small grin crept onto his face as he reconsidered his previous firm rejection to your request. there’s no harm in a little fun, and he’d be a fool to reject an advance from such an alluring student of his, right?

“anything… is that so…” yunho teases, getting up from his chair and walking around his desk, towering over you as he now stood in front of you. “if you really wanted some extra credit, i could use a nice stress reliever right now… siting and grading 20-page essays for hours without break has made my body so tense…” he mockingly whined, rubbing a hand over his stiffened neck to verify his words.

you looked up at him with doe eyes, practically waiting for whatever his next command would be. you were surprised at how easy it was for him to fall for your act– not that you were complaining about his fast submission. you were lucky to even hold his attention for this long, let alone have the honor of relieving his stress in exchange for a better grade in his class.

“get on your knees, sweetheart,” yunho paused, unbuckling his belt and unzipping the fly of his slacks. “you’ve done so much talking and pleading, why don’t you show me what else this pretty mouth of yours is capable of?”

a blush crept over your cheekbones as you obeyed him, pulling his hard length out of the confinement of his boxers and stroking it slowly with your soft, manicured hand. as you spread the precum down his cock to reduce the friction, yunho groans at the sudden feeling pulsing through his body.

you took most of his cock into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as your tongue swirled around his tip. you eventually fit his entire length into your mouth, deepthroating it as your head bobbed back and forth with ease. you moaned around it, sending vibrations throughout yunho’s core– this elicited a long, drawn out groan from him, followed by a string of curses as his hands find their way to your hair. he maintains a stern grip on your luscious strands as he takes control of your head, thrusting into your face to chase his high that was approaching.

“f-fuck, princess, your mouth feels so good around me– so fucked out all because of my cock, hm? you take it so well y/n,” he teased before giving your throat one final thrust before spilling his seed into your mouth, moaning as you stroke his length once more, overstimulating him in the comedown of his climax. “get up off the floor and bend over the desk, sweetheart.”

almost as if your body was moving on autopilot, you immediately follow his command. before you could even lay upon the desk, yunho’s large hands are halting your movements to quickly undo the buttons of your blouse, causing the garment to be thrown somewhere on the floor of his office. he undoes the hooks of your bra before discarding of that as well. he gently but hurriedly pushes you forward onto the polished wood, trailing a hand down your spine in admiration of your soft, glowing skin that covered your body. the action sent shivers throughout your body, the ghostlike touch of his fingertips now haunting your lower back. his other hand traveled to your skirt, lifting it up to reveal a red lace undergarment that just barely covered what it was meant to.

“looks like you planned for this, unless you just normally go around with such an inviting surprise hidden under your clothes. i’d be disappointed to hear that anyone else is getting this view, sweetheart.” he spoke with a half-sincere tone as he moved the lace to the side, the tip of his length now teasing your wet entrance. he only slid in deeper as you began to respond.

“ah, you’re the only- fuck, only one professor jeong, only ever- fuck! wear it on days i have your class,” your vocal moans sound through the room as his thrusts became deep and fast, his cock hitting all the right places to make you a wrecked, hysterical mess.

“i’m- mmh, so close professor, fuck, ‘s so big, i can’t,” you ranted. he gave one last long thrust before you reached your high, coming undone on his length. he sped up his last few thrusts, causing you to see stars as you were already getting overstimulated from the overwhelming orgasm he just gave you.

yunho soon pulled out, cleaning the both of you up a little before he pulled your skirt back down and freshened up himself. he handed you the clothing that was previously discarded to the floor before he adjusted his tie and sat back down in his office chair.

“you can consider your grade in my class to be fixed, y/n,” yunho said with a bit more life in his words than he did when you first came into his office. he fixed his hair and put his reading glasses back on his face, his fingers soon clacking on his keys again. “and feel free to visit my office again any time; i’ll be here to help.” a slight chuckle left his lips as he made the double meaning of his words apparent.

“thank you– and you'll see me again very soon, professor jeong.”