emmasintern - Tumblr blog

emmasintern · 2 months ago

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don't you love me?

pairing: toxicbsf!seungcheol x f!reader

genre: friend to lovers, toxic relationships (friendships), smut MDNI!!!

warnings: manipulation, toxic cheol, dubcon, gaslighting, controlling n possessive cheol, he isolates oc, scoups tummy mention (nom nom hot), kind of ddlg dynamic? (u can tell i have father issues), power imbalance, princess treatment, drinking, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f!recieving), dom!cheol, overstimulation, corruption kink, a little bit praise a little bit degradation but its barely noticeable, size kink (a little), manhandling, inexperienced oc, dacryphilia, crying, breeding kink, missionary bcs im a romantic sue me, big dick scoups hehe, unprotected sex (do NOT do it dawg), tummy bulge kink, mentions of baby trapping, creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

w.c.: 4.3k

playlist: don't you love me?

for more of my work, check out my masterlist!

note: i need toxic cheol sooo bad no one gets it but thank u @seventeensrat for getting me n proofreading n giving me ur deranged thoughts abt it. want dat gold cross necklace in the pic dangling over my face 😝 i kept making him a sweetheart but then realised no he needs to be an asshole (that i would fuck 100%) n i might make a part 2 of this so lmk...

anywaysss my requests are open if u have something u wanna read or just talk n so are my dms to make new friends here :) feedback is highly appreciated hope u like this one hehehe :3

if u wanna be tagged

Currently obsessed with the idea of toxic guy best friend seungcheol.

He is the bestest friend someone could ask for in your opinion. The sweetest, most selfless guy you’ve ever come across. Always drives you around in his g-wagon- hand resting just below the hem of your dress. Bought you a dyson last month; no particular occasion, just because “you talked about it once so I thought you’d like it.” Takes you to try out whatever cute cafes you want to and buys you all the pastries in the world. Calls you his “baby” and his “princess”. Not only pays for your nails but also helps you pick out the design. Carries all your shopping bags without breaking a sweat in one hand, other resting on your lower back so that the guys around you don’t think they have a chance. And of course, he pays for all your clothes with his black card :). Who would he spoil if not you? He sometimes gets into the dressing room with you in the Victoria’s Secret store while you’re changing because “we’re best friends, right?” (with a pout ofc) when you refuse because you’re not sure if this is what friends do, but you give in eventually. Now the fact that he makes you spin around in your pretty little lingerie, strong hands groping your thighs as you say “Isn’t this a little too tight, cheol?”, your hands adjusting the bra all while he’s staring at your tits spilling out of the see through material as he assures you that it’s perfect is something others don’t need to know, right?

Yeah. He’s your best friend. Always takes care of you, cooks for you, makes sure you have all your meals and that you study properly- scolding you when you miss any lectures. Makes sure you don’t drink too much at parties or guys other than him might take advantage of you. Doesn’t let you exchange notes with the guys in your class. Even got into a fight with a guy and almost got suspended because of something he said about you. He scolds you for talking to them, because you don’t know their intentions and all you do is keep your head down and nod, no other choice than to abide him. He does know what’s better for you after all, right? He scolds you only because he loves you! He just knows what’s best for you, and wants to make sure you know he’s the best for you.

All your other friends don’t really speak very highly of him tho :( they just feel like there’s something off about him. No one is ever that nice. That he’s like a guard dog around you and doesn’t let you talk to guys or date, always hovering around you and giving you orders. But you assure them that no!!! he’s your cheol :( he tells you that they’re just jealous of you. They’re jealous of your friendship with him. They envy you. Yes, he can be a bit strict sometimes and act like your dad, but that’s just because he doesn’t want to you to get in trouble! He just wants to protect you :) that’s why he always asks for tons of your pictures before you go out so that he can protect you from the creeps that think of your short dress as an excuse to get their way with you.

When you first became friends with him, you were a bit skeptical when he told you that your boyfriend was cheating on you. But then he said, “Don’t you trust me? Why would I lie to you?” with his signature pout and he was right. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone, right? Now it was surprising to you when your boyfriend was the one to break up with you later that day, but all seungcheol said to you while you cried on his shoulder was “He didn’t deserve you, baby.” You don’t need to know that he lied to you boyfriend that you had sex with him when he was out of town. He only lied because he knew you were meant for him. He just wants you for himself, is that so bad? He doesn’t think so, because he takes care of you so well. Makes sure all your needs are met and you have no complaints. You’re his girl after all :)

As soon your (ex) boyfriend broke up with you, seungcheol was quick to ask you to move in with him, because “You need someone to take care of you right now, you can’t live alone doll.” and you couldn’t argue with that logic. And he was so good to you. Didn’t even make you pay rent because why would he. Always was there for you when you wanted to rant about your day, but only while sitting on his lap facing him in just his oversized shirt and panties obviously :) that was a rule. Would come up slyly from behind when you were cooking in your cute little apron, hands resting on your tits because “It’s comforting to me y/n.” and you don’t complain. Whenever you denied him something he would say “Don’t you love me?” eyes furrowed and big arms caging you. But it was a two-way street, the way you always let him cuddle you after a bad day. How you always brought him something to eat when he had been gaming for hours. How last week you reassured him when he said he would start a diet because he thought he was gaining weight by giving him a small kiss on his cheek, telling him that it was hot for you, that it made him only more reliable in your eyes. It was the small things. But they always counted.

The girls he saw or went out with always complained about umm, the bond you both shared; but he never cared. It did bother you though seeing him bring girls over to your shared apartment, hearing their moans through the thin paper walls :( all while you had your hand shyly tucked between your thighs resisting the urge to imagine yourself in their place, bent over for him. But you never touched yourself. It would be so wrong, thinking about your best friend like that! So you often resorted to grinding against the plushie bear he won for you at the fair as his oversized shirt slipped down your shoulders- quiet whines leaving your throat as you failed to reach your high. Little did you know he was imagining the girl under him to be you every single time. He can’t even count the number of times he’s jerked off to the pictures you send him (at his request obviously). The number of times he’s stared at your panties peeking out whenever your skirt rid up or your cleavage when you bent down.

You do notice that after a few months, he takes up more of your time. Not that you’re complaining!!! You love to spend time with him, but you feel it get to a point. It’s not sudden, rather subtle and painstakingly so slow you don’t even realise what he’s doing until you’re in it too deep (or until he’s in YOU too deep ahem). Whenever you’re getting ready to go out with your friends he always hugs you and somehow always falls sick so that you can’t go out because you have to take care of him. What kind of friend would you be if you left him sick and alone to go out and drink he says. You’re being a little bitchy he says. You don’t love him he says. And tears well up in your eyes, because you love him so much you can’t believe he thinks of you that way. And then there you are in your pretty pink dress, mascara smeared on your cheeks as you’re crying in his embrace while he comforts you. You begin to stop talking to your friends because he says they’re a bad influence on you. But don’t worry! Your cheol is right next to you always :) his clinginess increases ten folds. He is always on you, hands resting on your plush thighs or your waist at all times- neck nuzzled in your hair when you sit on his lap as he games. Brings out his puppy eyes and pout whenever you refuse him. “Don’t you love me?” he says and you would never want him to think that. So you let him do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. He knows what’s best for you, right?

He dreamt of taking you, corrupting you but only bit by bit. It might make you sick if you found out but he wanted to make you cry while he defiled you, moulded you to his liking. Wanted to throw you around because it was just so easy for him. A small part of him thinks you instigate your playfights on purpose to get him to overpower you, manhandle you. He knew you had had a few boyfriends before so imagine his surprise when he found out you had never had an orgasm one night, head buried in his lap drunk and giggled out the confession in shame. You should be thankful he made your boyfriend break up with you, because how fucking incompetent does one have to be.

“What do you mean you’ve never had an orgasm?” he asked, hands running through your hair.

“They just never made me cum.”

“They never ate you out?” he asked in shock.

“Mhm.” You said shaking your head before passing out on his lap.

“God. What fucking assholes.” He thought to himself. He knew he had to be the one to take care of you, after all you’ve been deprived for so long.

Few weeks later and it was your semester end party, loud music all around you, girls passed out drunk, shots being passed around and wild chaos everywhere. And there you see him, across the room talking and laughing with his friends, one hand chugging down beer every now and then. He looked so hot, though dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans; the royal oak watch stealing everyone’s attention as he ran his hand through his hair. It was the way he carried himself, his confidence, his carefreeness. And the way he carried you with him, showing you off like a trophy to be desired (not that you minded it a bit). You’re too engrossed in ogling him when you’re pulled out of your entranced state by no one other than Vernon. You remember meeting him on seungcheol’s birthday, recalling him as one of his close friends. You always found him cute, texting him whenever he replied to your stories or sometimes sitting next to him in shared lectures.

“Hi y/n.” He says with a slight smirk, red solo cup in his hand.

“Hi Vernon!”

“Want a drink?” he says, offering you the cup.

“Mhm I’ve already had so much to drink.” You slur through your words. “Cheol will scold me.” You say with a slight pout.

“Coups isn’t attached to your hip tonight?”

“Mhm, we’re not always together!” you giggle, a bit buzzed because of all the drinking.

“Oh? He never lets me talk to you though doll.” He says with a pout, taking a step closer.

“What do you wanna talk to me about?” you say with a smirk (the flirting a courtesy of the alcohol) as your hand rests on his chest barely grazing him.

His hand reaches to grab your waist as he’s just leaning in, his lips just about to touch yours when in the blink of an eye you see a muscular arm pull him off of you with a force, and you hear seungcheol shouting something at vernon that you’re too drunk to comprehend, but you catch a few phrases here and there- “Are you fucking dumb taking advantage of here when she’s drunk?” and “Back off dude you know she’s mine.” You feel his grip tighten on your hand as he leads you through the room, murmuring a “We’re leaving.” as he opens the car door for you.

The entire car ride was pin drop silent. His hand wasn’t even on your thigh tonight like always :( and you could feel he was pissed off- the way his veins bulged with his grip on the steering and his jaw clenched so hard. he would usually let you pick out whatever song you wanted, watching fondly with a smile when you sung along to it; but he wasn’t even talking to you :( you think maybe it’s your fault. He had warned you about guys trying to take advantage of you, but you were just talking to Vernon. He’s his friend, right? but you feel bad for ruining his night :/ he was talking to his friends but then he had to run over to you because you can’t even take care of yourself properly. Maybe he was right when he said that you needed him. Needed him to protect you, be with you, take care of you.

When you get back to your shared apartment, he’s still quiet; not forgetting his manners for a second though- opening all the doors for you and taking off your heels as you lean your weight on him, your hand on his shoulder for support. But it’s too much for you now. Why is he still so mad at you? Tears start welling in your eyes as your voice breaks.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask between sniffles, doing everything in your power to not let that tear drop slide down your cheeks but he notices it. He sees the distress in your eyes. The fear you have of disappointing him. And he loves it. Loves that you crave for his approval. He’s proud that he’s made you into this. But apparently you still need to learn to be disciplined. Then so be it, he'll make you into his obedient little girl. Your brows are still furrowed at the lack of his answer as he stands up and begins to step away from you and that’s all it takes for the dam to break as tears start welling down your face, a shame in your chest because you feel like you’ve let him down.

“Cheollie please! I- I’m sorry!” you say between sniffles, head buried in your hands.

“Yeah? What are you sorry for Y/n? And fuck are you crying for?” he spits out and it only makes you cry more because not only has he never been this mean to you, but also has never called you by your name like this :( always calling you by nicknames.

“I’m sorry for talking to Vernon.” You murmur. “I’m sorry for making you mad.” You say, wiping your tears.

“Made me leave my friends to take care of you y/n, I told you not to talk to anyone without me right? Told you not to drink too much. This is why I always have to take care of you baby, you can’t do it alone.” He says, swatting your hands away and wiping your tears as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry cheol, let me make it up to you? Don’t want you to be angry at me.”

“Yeah? How will you make it up to me baby? I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive you yet, you were so careless.”

“Anything.” You whisper. “Whatever you want I’ll do.” You say in your slightly buzzed state, but he doesn’t care. That’s all the permission he needs as he’s reaching down, arm snaking around your waist as to not give you a chance to back out, gently yet passionately pressing himself against your warm mouth. Your eyes open wide as the realization hits- hands pushing his chest away as he separates himself for a second.

He's just about to lean back in, eyes half lidded full of lust before you say, “Cheol what are you doing?”

“You said you’d do anything I wanted to make it up to me, right?” he says as you give him a hesitant nod facing down.

“But I’m a bit drunk right now.” You say, voice barely a whisper.

“So you lied to me then? When you said that?”

“No! No, I’d never lie to you.” you say as your eyes reach up to meet him on the brink of tears.

“Then let me do whatever I want baby. Let me make you feel good. Don’t you love me?”

Don’t you love me?

It spins in your head like a mantra, before you give into his demands as a sly smirk accompanies him. You see him cup your cheeks in one hand as he’s reaching down to kiss you once again, much more possessively this time as he melted into you- tongue slipping in smoothly, as if he’s going to be the only man from now on allowed to do this (he is). His hands find your waist like they belong there. You gasp as he’s guiding you towards his bedroom, hands roaming all over the body like they’ve never been before. His lips move down your jaw as his fingers toy with the hem of your short dress- finding abode along your inner thighs. You think back to all the days you chanted his name like a prayer when you were just so close, dreaming of his fingers in you instead of your own. But at the same time your hesitation throughout it never leaves you.

He's quick to pick you up, only to throw you on his bed like a ragdoll as he gets on his knees in front you, bunching your dress up to your waist. His hands massage your thighs as he pulls them apart, immensely satisfied by the wet spot forming at your center.

“These the ones I bought you doll?” he asks, eyes still transfixed on your core. You manage to whisper a quiet yes and before you know it, he’s ripping the material off of you quite literally, diving in like a man starved. Your state is hazy because of the alcohol and the sight of him between your eyes as his words reverberate in your head while his fingers aggressively toy with your clit- Don’t you love me? Don’t you trust me? I know what’s best for you. Let me make you feel good. He’s relentless in his efforts, showing you no mercy or sympathy for the fact this the first time someone’s eating you out. Even when you ask him to slow down, to stop. Even when you cry out his name repeatedly. His plump lips suck on your clit sharply as the same hand that adorned the very royal oak watch that got you so hot drives into you, hitting your g-spot again and again.

Tears start to well in your eyes as they wet your cheeks but as seungcheol looks up at you, the only thing he can think of is how much you’ll cry when he fucks you and you feel him fully in your belly. Your moans get louder as you keep begging him to stop, but he knows you’re close. He can feel you clenching on his fingers as you buck up your hips into him. And before you know it, you’re cumming all over his thick digits. But that doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t falter in his movements for even a second, fingers driving into you at the same pace as your orgasm washes over you. Your legs are shaking around his head as he animalistically groans against your clit.

“Cheol! P- please! Can’t…. can’t take more!” you cry out as your hand tightens it's grip on his hair.

“One more baby.” He grunts out. “One more on my tongue.”

He thinks he’s addicted. Addicted to the taste of you. Not only does he make you cum on his tongue once more, but pulls an orgasm out of you just but by playing with your clit. You think you’ve lost track of the amount of times he’s made you cum, but he’s keeping count. One for each time he’s wanted to take you, and trust there are many. But your entire body is quaking and covered in sweat because of the relentless overstimulation. Once he thinks he’s satisfied with the number of times he’s made you cum on his tongue, he finally gets up only to see you almost passed out on the bed, barely holding on. The sheets besides you are wet from your tears but that only makes his pants tighter. You see him lose his shirt and his pants as he stands in front of you in his boxers. His length is strained against the material as if trapped. He strokes himself from over the material before pulling them down as his thick long member hits his stomach and he sees you gulp. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you react to him.

“Scared princess?” he teases you as he locks his gaze with yours, spitting in his hand as he strokes himself- precum leaking out his dark pink tip.

“It won’t fit.” You say hesitantly, but you don’t want to disappoint him either.

“You’re cheol’s good girl right? You’re a big girl, you can take it.” He spits out rather meanly, making you pout. But he’s not showing you any mercy this time. You’ll take whatever he gives you. After all, you wanted to please him, right?

Once again he’s parting your legs as he lines himself up with your already ruined entrance, tapping his tip against your clit, before he hears you say, “Cheollie, you don’t hate me, right?” with eyes on the brink of crying. It’s endearing he thinks, that you’re still afraid of disappointing him, letting him down. He’s taught you sooo well.

“Could never hate you love.” He says, pressing a small kiss to your forehead. “Now let your cheol take care of you okay, like always.” And just like that, he’s pushing into you in one go, giving you no time to adjust as your wet velvet walls wrap around him, your slick covering his entire length. He’s pushing your legs up only to rest them on his broad shoulders as you continue to cry out his name over and over again. He doesn’t falter once as he propels into you, gold cross chain dangling over you, and when he opens his eyes to look down to where you connect, his eyes go wide at the sight of himself in your lower belly. He can see himself in you, literally. And oh, does it turn him on, the way you’re so tiny in front of him, so much so that his big dick bulges in you poor little belly. He taps your cheek lightly as to call you to pay attention to him.

“You see that baby?” he says, running his hand over the bulge in your belly. “See how deep I am in you, fuck! Like you were made for me.”

If that’s how deep he goes in you, what would happen if he came that deep in you he thinks. And that only makes him angle himself into you deeper as he lifts one of his legs. He could fill you up and it won’t even leak out. How would you look carrying his baby? No way you’d ever leave him if he knocked you up right now. You’d look so beautiful, his wife, his pretty little baby mama. The thought of you swelled up gets him closer to his release as his hips begin to falter and his strokes get sloppier- each one becoming a sharp thrust. And just like that, with a loud cry and a particularly sharp push of his hips into you, you’re cumming over his cock for the nth time in the night, completely spent and head blank, as you collapse back on the bed almost passed out at this point. You didn’t ask for his permission to cum, but it’s okay, he’ll discipline you next time :)

You feel him getting closer as well as his moans get louder and thrusts sloppier and you’re about to give out and rest in bliss when the realisation hits you- he’s not wearing a condom.

“Fuck ‘m gonna cum baby, pussy so tight like it was made for me.” He groans.

Your panicked eyes look up to him, “Cheol, please… please don’t cum inside.” You plead.

“No way baby, not pulling out…mhm!” he moans as his pace increases, chasing his release. “Gonna fill you up real good, you trust me right?”

“Mhm…” you sigh hesitantly. “Okay…if you say so.”

“Fuck! Thank you princess, love you so much, yeah? My good girl.” He says between grunts and the slap of his balls against you, as you grunt out a quiet love you too, and with that you feel yourself getting full of him as he fills you up to the brim, still fucking you through it slowly. When he’s done, he doesn’t pull out of you yet- making sure it’s inside you. Your bodies melt against each other as you feel his heavy breathes against your ear. The room smells of sex and sweat as he collapses besides you panting.

“You’re not mad at me anymore, right cheol?” you say, breaking the silence as he’s pressing another small kiss to your lips, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Hmm, you were a really bad tonight doll. We’ll have to see if you make it up to me after another round.”

It was gonna be a long night. But it’s okay. You would do anything for your cheol :)

2K notes · View notes

emmasintern · 2 months ago

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threesome w/ JEONGCHEOL — nsfw

disclaimer: minors do not interact, 18+ only

• don’t ask how you got here. who are you to refuse a threesome with the two eldest ?????

• to sum things up, they’ll take such good care of you and your pussy too.

• they’re teamwork is unmatched when tag teaming you.

• good cop and bad cop, except the good cop really isn’t a good cop. he just likes playing mind games. guess which one’s which 😃

• would definitely double penetrate you. you would be on top of jeonghan, while seungcheol’s behind you.

• they would either be mean or nice, really depends on the mood tbh. you’d either be their whore for the night or their baby, no in between.

• they would make you take turns sucking them off. will have you on your knees infront of them, making you feel small and intimidated while they stare down at you. won’t give you a break, if one of them isn’t in your mouth, they’re not satisfied.

• the difference of their hands on your skin !! cheol’s would feel rough and calloused compared to jeonghan’s smooth and soft ones.

• so overwhelming that you’d probably slip into subspace.

• they like toying with you. seungcheol won’t let you cum without permission, while jeonghan demands for you to cum. so in the end, you’d be making one of them mad anyways and those little shits know it too. it’s all apart of their game.

• expect a lot of orgasm denial and edging.

• they would definitely make you beg….a lot.

• they don’t care if y’all are in public or not. either you have to be really good at holding in your moans or everyone within a mile radius will know exactly who you belong to.

• rough sex, soft sex — they don’t care. they’re always teasing you regardless.

• they are very in tune with your emotions and always checking in on you. sometimes the two of them can be a lot to handle at once and they understand that.

• they both take your safe word VERY seriously !! would make you repeat it a thousand times before actually initiating anything.

• if one of them is mad at you, then the other one probably is as well so good luck to your poor pussy 🫡

• hear me out idc what you think… they BOTH have a daddy kink (come on now the two parents of the group bruh bfr)

• sometimes jeonghan just enjoys watching you and seungcheol together rather than participating. it’s good wanking material.

• seungcheol’s degradation mixed with jeonghan’s praise pairs so well together (even if the praise is a little backhanded.)

• they ALWAYS fuck you dumb.

• aftercare is a MUST !! you’ll always be well fed, well fucked, and well loved.

814 notes · View notes

emmasintern · 3 months ago

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His Ex

cw: 6.2k wc: nsfw, top!mingyu, bottom!wonwoo, m/m, cheating, thigh-fucking, blow-jobs, possessive, riding, degradation kink, spit-roast, raw penetrating, getting back with his ex, second chance. Summary: Wonwoo's legs took him straight to his ex's place after he found his boyfriend cheating on him.

. ݁˖౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆જ⁀➴ 🍓

Wonwoo slammed the door shut behind him, his breath ragged as he stepped out into the night, the cold air hitting his tear-streaked face. He didn’t bother wiping them away. What was the point? His chest felt hollow, yet somehow unbearably heavy, the weight of betrayal pressing down on him with every step he took.

His mind kept replaying the image—his boyfriend, the man he had trusted, tangled in bed with someone else. The sheets, the ones Wonwoo had picked out, wrapped around their bare bodies, the scent of their betrayal still lingering in the air. The woman had gasped, scrambling to cover herself, but Wonwoo hadn’t even looked at her. His eyes had stayed locked on the man he had once loved, searching for an explanation he already knew wouldn’t matter.

He had walked out without a word, leaving behind the broken pieces of something he thought had been real. His hands balled into fists inside his pockets, nails digging into his palms as he kept his head down. It didn’t matter that people might see him crying—he didn’t care. Let them look. Let them witness what it looked like to have your heart shattered so cruelly. If anything, it would be a warning—don’t trust too easily, don’t love too blindly. Because in the end, you’re the only one left to pick up the pieces.

His feet carried him forward aimlessly, but when he finally looked up, he realized where he had ended up. His steps faltered slightly as his eyes landed on the familiar black gate in front of him. A house he once knew too well. A place that had been his escape, his comfort, the only place where he had felt truly understood. Nostalgia hit him like a wave, overwhelming and sudden, making his throat tighten. He hadn’t been here in so long, yet standing before it now, it felt as if no time had passed at all.

Just as he was about to turn and leave, to push the memories aside and bury them along with everything else, the gate suddenly creaked open. And there, standing in the dim glow of the porch light, was the one person he never expected to see again.

"What are you doing here, hyung?" The voice was familiar—too familiar. It had been two years since he had last heard it, yet it still had the same effect, making something in Wonwoo’s chest tighten. His gaze lifted slowly, taking in the man standing in front of him. The way his brows furrowed in concern, the way his hair still fell the same way as before, slightly tousled as if he had just run his hands through it. The same sharp features, the same deep eyes that once held so much warmth for him. Mingyu hadn’t changed at all. And that made it worse.

Wonwoo had expected—no, hoped—that seeing him again wouldn’t shake him. That the years apart had dulled whatever remnants of feelings still lingered between them. But looking at him now, with the dim light from the porch casting shadows over his face, it was like no time had passed at all. Except, it had. And Wonwoo had been the one to leave.

He hesitated, unsure how to answer, but Mingyu’s voice broke through his thoughts again, firmer this time. "Wonwoo, I asked you something." The tone was familiar too—the same authoritative voice he used whenever he didn’t get what he wanted. Of course, he hadn’t changed in that way either.

"Nothing," Wonwoo muttered, suddenly aware of how awkward he felt. "I was just walking back home." His voice lacked conviction, and from the way Mingyu raised a brow, he knew the younger wasn’t buying it.

"We both know that’s not true. Your house is in the opposite direction." Mingyu leaned against the gate, arms crossed as he studied Wonwoo carefully. The scrutiny made Wonwoo shift uncomfortably, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he lowered his gaze to Mingyu’s shoes. He didn’t want to meet his eyes, not when his own were already welling up again.

"Are you crying?" Mingyu’s voice softened, the concern returning so naturally that it made Wonwoo’s throat tighten even more. Of course, he would notice. After all, Mingyu had been the only person who had ever known him that well. The only person who had once memorized every little shift in his expression, who could tell exactly when he was about to break down even before he did.

Mingyu took a small step forward, his hand lifting instinctively—like he was about to reach out, to touch him, to comfort him the way he used to. But then he hesitated. His fingers curled slightly before he let his hand drop back to his side. He must have realized it too—realized that he wasn’t the one Wonwoo would want comfort from anymore. Maybe he never would be again.

"Hyung, come inside. I made too much food, and I don’t plan on eating alone." Mingyu’s voice was steady, lacking its usual playfulness, yet there was something gentle in the way he said it. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding an explanation for why Wonwoo was standing outside his house looking like he had just been ripped apart. Instead, he was offering something familiar—comfort in the form of food, warmth, and a place to sit where he didn’t have to pretend he was okay.

Wonwoo blinked rapidly, as if that could stop the tears threatening to spill again. He forced himself to meet Mingyu’s gaze, offering a small, barely-there smile. "No, it’s fine. I should go. You were probably heading somewhere," he muttered, stepping back instinctively. They were too close, and he was too raw. His body felt strange—too warm, too aware of Mingyu in a way he shouldn’t be. He had just walked in on his boyfriend cheating on him, and yet, here he was, standing in front of the person he had once loved, feeling something twisted and unfamiliar. His stomach churned at the realization. He shouldn’t be reacting like this.

Mingyu exhaled, shaking his head. "I was just going to grab some alcohol, but since you’re here looking like you’re seconds away from breaking down, I guess I can live without it for tonight." His voice had softened, but his grip was firm when he reached out, fingers wrapping around Wonwoo’s wrist. It wasn’t forceful, just steady, a quiet reminder that he wasn’t letting him run away. "Come inside. Eat something."

Wonwoo tensed under his touch. He should pull away. He should refuse. But he didn’t. Mingyu knew him too well, knew that if Wonwoo truly didn’t want this, he would have fought harder. Instead, he let himself be pulled forward, feet moving without thought.

"I want to go home," he murmured, almost whining. He didn’t know why he was acting like this, why his voice came out softer than he intended. He never acted like this with Jeongin—his now ex-boyfriend. Maybe it was because Mingyu had always been different. Maybe it was because Mingyu had been home once. And maybe, despite everything, a part of Wonwoo still remembered that.

"Come in for now, hyung." Mingyu’s voice was steady, but his grip on Wonwoo’s wrist lingered, warm and firm, as he pulled him inside before shutting the door behind them. The familiar scent hit Wonwoo instantly—the same cologne, the same mix of something uniquely Mingyu. It was comforting in a way that made his chest tighten, made him ashamed of how much he still reacted to it. It was strong but never overwhelming, masculine yet soothing. The kind of scent that once made him feel safe, and now… now it just left him conflicted.

"Go sit down, I’ll bring some food." Mingyu’s tone was casual, as if this was just any other night, as if years hadn’t passed between them. Without waiting for a response, he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Wonwoo standing awkwardly in the living room.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Wonwoo finally moved, sinking onto the large brown couch. It wasn’t there before—something new. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the familiar and the unfamiliar. Most things were the same, but there were small changes. A different rug, a few new decorations. But what hadn’t changed was the feeling of the space. It still carried Mingyu’s warmth, still felt like a place he could sink into.

And the scent. God, the scent. It wrapped around him, made him want to curl up on the couch and just let exhaustion take over. He hadn’t realized how drained he was until now. His body felt heavy, his mind sluggish.

"Sleep if you want to."

Wonwoo blinked, looking up to find Mingyu watching him, a small knowing smile on his lips as he set the food down on the table. Wonwoo didn’t even realize he had closed his eyes for a second. He swallowed, shifting on the couch, unsettled by how easily Mingyu could still read him, how effortlessly he knew what he needed without a single word spoken.

Some things really hadn’t changed at all.

"I'm not sleepy," Wonwoo muttered, the lie barely convincing even to himself.

Mingyu didn’t even pretend to believe him. "Right. And I’m the president of the country," he deadpanned, settling onto the couch opposite Wonwoo. His legs spread lazily, his entire posture dripping with ease, like they weren’t sitting in the thick, awkward air of an unresolved past.

Wonwoo should’ve left the moment he stepped inside. He knew that. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to get up, make an excuse, and walk out before he let himself get too comfortable in a place that was no longer his. But he didn’t move. He didn’t even question why.

Maybe, just for tonight, he didn’t want to be alone. Maybe having Mingyu’s presence there—his warmth, his familiarity—was something he needed more than he wanted to admit.

That didn’t mean anything. It wouldn’t change anything.

The moment he stepped out of this house, he’d act like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t sat here eating food that reminded him too much of how things used to be. He wouldn’t come back. He wouldn’t let his feet lead him here mindlessly again. He’d move on.

Wonwoo cleared his throat, trying to distract himself from his own thoughts, but the second his gaze flickered toward Mingyu again, he regretted it.

Mingyu was watching him with amusement, legs still spread in that effortless, irritating confidence, one arm slung over the couch like he had all the time in the world. And when Wonwoo's eyes caught where they shouldn’t—just a little too low—Mingyu smirked.

Shit.

Wonwoo whipped his head away so fast it almost hurt, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth to hide his reaction. He ignored the way Mingyu’s eyes practically gleamed with mischief, the way his lips quirked up like he knew exactly what was running through Wonwoo’s head.

Embarrassing.

Focusing on the food was easier. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just a simple meal—rice, kimchi, and side dishes that looked way too familiar.

Wonwoo hesitated after the first bite.

It tasted… better. Way better than he remembered. The flavors were richer, the seasoning just right. His favorite side dishes, cooked exactly the way he liked them.

Mingyu had never been bad at cooking, but this? This was different.

Had he gotten better, or was it just the fact that it had been years since Wonwoo had tasted something made by him?

"So," Mingyu said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was even, but there was something sharp beneath it. "How’s your boyfriend?"

Wonwoo froze for half a second before forcing himself to keep chewing, pretending that question hadn’t just sunk into his chest like a blade.

He didn’t look up. He didn’t want to see the expression Mingyu was making.

And Mingyu, as always, noticed.

"You guys broke up, didn’t you?" Mingyu’s voice cut through the silence, low and laced with something that almost sounded like amusement.

Wonwoo stiffened. His fingers clenched slightly around the fabric of his hoodie, but he didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The words felt like salt rubbed into an open wound, a confirmation of the pain he was trying so desperately to swallow down.

No. He wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not in front of Mingyu.

But his body betrayed him.

Silent tears welled up again, slipping past his lashes before he could stop them. He turned his face away quickly, hurriedly dragging his sleeve over his cheeks in a desperate attempt to erase the evidence.

It was useless. He could feel Mingyu’s eyes on him, watching every little tremble of his shoulders, every shaky breath he tried to conceal.

He must look pathetic. A broken man sitting in his ex’s house, crying like a fool over someone who had never deserved his love in the first place. And the worst part? Mingyu was probably enjoying it. Probably relishing in the sight of him unraveling.

Only… if that were true, then why was his voice suddenly so different?

"Get up," Mingyu said, his tone dropping into something deeper, something firm and commanding. It was a voice Wonwoo had heard before, but never directed at him like this. "Come here."

He hesitated, lifting his eyes to meet Mingyu’s. There was no mockery there. No cruel smirk. Just something dark and unreadable, something that made his stomach twist in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

And for whatever reason—whether it was habit, instinct, or just exhaustion��Wonwoo obeyed.

Slowly, he pushed himself up from the couch, his legs feeling heavier than they should. He stood in front of Mingyu, his hands still curled at his sides, unsure of what to expect.

He never got the chance to figure it out.

Before he could react, Mingyu reached out, gripping his wrist with a firm but careful touch, and with one smooth pull, Wonwoo was falling forward. His breath caught as he landed against Mingyu’s broad chest, warmth seeping through the fabric of his clothes, the scent of him hitting all at once.

In the next instant, strong hands guided him, shifting him until he was straddling Mingyu’s thighs, his knees pressing into the couch on either side of him. The world tilted slightly in his vision, the sudden closeness making his heart pound wildly in his chest.

"What—" Wonwoo barely got the word out before Mingyu’s hands settled on his waist, holding him there with an ease that sent a shiver down his spine.

Mingyu’s grip was firm but not forceful, his thumbs pressing into the fabric of Wonwoo’s hoodie like he was trying to ground him. His body was solid beneath him, strong in a way that made Wonwoo hyper-aware of just how much taller, how much broader, how much manlier Mingyu was.

Wonwoo’s breath hitched. He hadn’t been expecting this. He hadn’t expected any of this.

But the way Mingyu was looking at him now—serious, unreadable, like he was seeing something no one else ever had—made it impossible to pull away.

"What did he do?" Mingyu’s voice was low, rough with an edge of something dark and dangerous, a warning more than a question. The sound of it sent a shiver down Wonwoo’s spine, making his entire body tense. There was something almost primal in the way Mingyu spoke, something that made Wonwoo feel like he was being cornered—like he was meant to submit, to surrender, to let himself be taken care of. Like he was some fragile thing that Mingyu refused to let break.

But he wasn’t fragile. He wouldn’t let himself be. Not now.

"That’s none of your business," Wonwoo forced out, his voice barely holding steady. He shifted in Mingyu’s lap, attempting to put some space between them, but Mingyu’s grip on his waist only tightened slightly, keeping him in place. "Let me up."

Mingyu didn’t budge. His eyes flickered, dark with something unreadable, something almost possessive. "No," he said, his tone final, unyielding. "Not until you tell me what happened."

Wonwoo swallowed, his throat dry, his body hyper-aware of the warmth pressing against him, of the way Mingyu’s strong hands held him so easily, like he was meant to be there. It was too much. Mingyu was too much.

But the moment he opened his mouth to protest again, the words crumbled before they could form.

"He…" Wonwoo’s breath hitched, his hands gripping the front of Mingyu’s hoodie as if holding onto it would somehow keep him from breaking apart entirely. His voice was quieter this time, almost fragile. "He cheated on me."

A single tear slipped past his lashes, trailing down his cheek before landing against the fabric of Mingyu’s hoodie.

Silence.

Then, Mingyu’s entire body went rigid beneath him. His jaw clenched so tightly that Wonwoo could hear his teeth grind together, his shoulders stiffening with barely contained rage. The warmth in his eyes flickered out, replaced by something cold and lethal.

"Get up," Mingyu ordered, his voice no longer just deep—it was dangerous, sharp like a blade pressed against someone’s throat. "I’m going to fucking rip his head off."

Wonwoo barely had time to process before Mingyu was already shifting, his grip loosening as if ready to push him off and storm out the door. The sheer fury radiating off him was palpable, the way his muscles coiled like he was seconds away from hunting the bastard down and making sure he never laid a hand on Wonwoo—or anyone—ever again.

But before Mingyu could move, before he could follow through on the rage burning in his chest, Wonwoo’s arms moved on their own.

His fingers curled around the back of Mingyu’s neck, pulling him back down. And before he knew what he was doing, he buried his face into the warmth of Mingyu’s throat, inhaling deep, shaking his head in silent refusal.

Don’t go.

He didn’t say it out loud, but he didn’t have to. Mingyu stilled immediately, the tension in his body lessening, his hands instinctively finding their place on Wonwoo’s waist again, steadying him. His breathing, ragged and uneven just moments ago, slowed as Wonwoo stayed curled against him.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Wonwoo would be lying if he said he didn’t want to stay like this—to stay wrapped up in Mingyu’s warmth, to let himself forget for just a little while. He wanted to stop thinking, to stop hurting, to let Mingyu take care of him the way he always had before. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that Mingyu had always been good at taking care of him. Better than anyone.

And right now… Wonwoo wanted that. Needed that.

Before Wonwoo could even process what he was saying, the words slipped from his lips, muffled against Mingyu’s neck like a confession torn from the depths of his soul. "Fuck me. I need you."

The air between them went still. Mingyu’s grip on his waist tightened for a split second, his entire body going rigid beneath him. The way Wonwoo spoke, breathless and desperate, like he was high off Mingyu’s scent alone, sent a wildfire of emotions crashing through him.

Mingyu’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his voice low, strained with restraint. "No. You should rest. You’re not thinking straight. I’ll take you to my r—"

But Wonwoo shook his head against his skin, his breath hot, needy, and Mingyu felt it—the way Wonwoo’s body pressed closer, the way his fingers curled just a little tighter against the fabric of his hoodie.

"No. I am thinking straight," Wonwoo whispered, voice raw, vulnerable in a way that made something inside Mingyu ache. "Take me. I don’t want to feel worthless anymore."

Mingyu’s heart clenched at that, at the way Wonwoo sounded like he was breaking apart in his arms. It made him want to ignore every reckless, self-destructive thing he was saying and just hold him, cradle him to sleep like he had done before—back when Wonwoo still belonged to him.

"Wonwoo, no," Mingyu exhaled, his voice softer now, as if trying to make him understand. "You don’t love me anymore. This isn’t—"

He never got to finish.

Wonwoo kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was urgent, desperate, a collision of mouths and unspoken emotions. Wonwoo’s hands tangled into Mingyu’s hair, gripping tight as if anchoring himself there, his body moving instinctively, rolling ever so slightly in Mingyu’s lap.

Mingyu’s breath caught in his throat.

It took everything in him not to lose himself in it.

"No," Wonwoo murmured against his lips, panting, his forehead pressing against Mingyu’s as he stared into his eyes, pupils blown wide. "I fucking missed you."

And just like that, it all clicked into place.

The reason it had hurt so much. The reason he had felt worthless in the first place. It wasn’t just because he had been cheated on—it was because, deep down, he had never truly loved Jeongin. He had wanted to, had tried to force himself to, but something had always been missing. Something had always felt off.

And now, sitting here, straddling Mingyu’s lap, breathing in his scent like it was the only thing keeping him grounded, Wonwoo finally understood what that missing piece had been all along.

It had been Mingyu.

It had always been Mingyu.

The way Wonwoo’s lips ghosted over Mingyu’s jaw, the warmth of his breath fanning against his skin, sent a shiver down Mingyu’s spine. His grip on Wonwoo’s waist tightened instinctively, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie as if that alone would ground him. But it didn’t. Not when Wonwoo was this close, pressing into him, moving against him like he had every intention of setting Mingyu on fire and watching him burn.

"Please, Min…" Wonwoo whispered, the nickname slipping from his lips like a prayer, a plea wrapped in something so dangerously sweet that Mingyu swore he felt his restraint snap, his last thread of control unraveling right in front of him. The way Wonwoo rolled his hips, seeking friction with reckless desperation, only fueled the ache pooling low in Mingyu’s stomach, making it impossible to ignore just how much he wanted him—how much he needed him.

Mingyu exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as he fought the urge to take him right then and there, but the way Wonwoo looked at him, pupils blown wide, lips parted, skin flushed, made restraint seem laughable. His fingers ghosted up Wonwoo’s sides before gripping his hips fully, holding him in place as he rasped out, "How do you want it?" His voice was rough, edged with something dark and unrelenting, something that promised to consume them both.

Wonwoo let out a breathy moan at that, tilting his head back slightly, as if already lost in the feeling of it. He was so responsive, so beautiful in the way he melted under Mingyu’s touch. His hands fisted into Mingyu’s hoodie, pulling him impossibly closer before murmuring, "Rough. Show me how much I mean to you." His voice wavered at the end, laced with vulnerability that made Mingyu’s chest tighten.

He didn’t hesitate.

In one swift motion, Mingyu flipped them, pressing Wonwoo into the couch beneath him, his weight caging him in. Wonwoo gasped, but there was no fear, only the quick rise and fall of his chest as he looked up at Mingyu with something dangerously close to surrender. Mingyu leaned in, nose brushing against Wonwoo’s, letting the warmth between them build before he murmured, "You have no idea what you’re asking for."

But Wonwoo did.

And he wanted it.

Mingyu’s hands moved with purpose, tugging at Wonwoo’s clothes, peeling away the layers that separated them until Wonwoo was bare beneath him, the soft glow of the room casting shadows over every sharp line and curve of his body. The sight alone had Mingyu swallowing hard, his fingers trailing over the expanse of skin, mapping out every inch of him like he needed to commit it to memory.

A sharp gasp left Wonwoo’s lips when the cool air met his heated skin, a full-body shiver wracking through him before Mingyu’s touch chased it away. His fingers curled around Mingyu’s shoulders, anchoring himself as his breath came in short, uneven pants.

"Eyes on me, love," Mingyu murmured, his voice deep, rich with something possessive, something primal.

Wonwoo obeyed.

And when Mingyu finally leaned down, his touch firm yet reverent, the world blurred at the edges, leaving only the two of them tangled together, lost in the fire of something that had never truly burned out.

Mingyu watched as Wonwoo arched beneath him, his body trembling with every flick of his tongue. He let Wonwoo tangle his fingers into his hair, his grip tightening each time Mingyu worked him deeper into pleasure. The way Wonwoo struggled to keep his eyes open, to obey his words even through the haze of need, sent a rush of satisfaction through him.

"That's it," Mingyu murmured against his skin, his voice rough with restraint. He wanted to see him come undone completely, to watch him lose himself in the moment. The sight alone was intoxicating.

Wonwoo's breath hitched, his body twitching as Mingyu pressed deeper, his tongue teasing, his hands firm but knowing. The sounds slipping from Wonwoo's lips were sinful, raw, and completely unfiltered, making Mingyu’s own self-control waver.

When Wonwoo pulled Mingyu's hand to his mouth, taking his fingers between soft lips, something inside Mingyu snapped. He groaned lowly, watching as Wonwoo sucked at them, his tongue warm, his gaze hooded with desperation.

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu breathed, his voice strained. The sensation, the way Wonwoo was moving so eagerly, sent heat coiling in his stomach.

Wonwoo’s pace quickened, his body shuddering, his head tilting back as he fought against the overwhelming pleasure. His grip on Mingyu's wrist tightened as Mingyu pressed further, fingers curling slightly, testing the way Wonwoo reacted, the way his breathing hitched just before his lips parted in a broken moan as mingyu pulled out his fingers.

“Mingyu—” Wonwoo gasped, his voice a plea, a question, a desperate need for permission. His entire body was taut, shaking, barely holding on.

Mingyu gave a low hum of approval around him, and that was all it took. Wonwoo’s body tensed before giving in entirely, his breath catching, his fingers clenching around Mingyu's wrist as a deep, shuddering exhale left him. His mind spun, his body light, as the pleasure crashed over him in waves, leaving him breathless, utterly wrecked.

Mingyu watched every second of it, drinking in the sight of Wonwoo unraveling in his mouth, and for the first time in years, something inside him felt complete.

Mingyu stood over Wonwoo, watching him with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. Wonwoo, still catching his own breath, looked up at him, his lips parted, his expression dazed yet satisfied. The sight alone made something deep in Mingyu tighten, a possessive hunger stirring in his chest.

Without hesitation, he reached down, tilting Wonwoo’s chin up with his fingers. His touch was firm but lingering, his thumb brushing over the soft skin just beneath Wonwoo’s bottom lip. He leaned in, their breaths mingling, the warmth between them thick and electric as he pushed wonwoo's cum into his mouth.

It was messy, heated, their lips sliding together as Mingyu claimed every inch of Wonwoo’s mouth. The taste of him, the way he responded so naturally, made Mingyu groan low in his throat. He could feel the way Wonwoo melted into him, his hands fisting weakly at Mingyu’s hoodie like he didn’t want to let go.

When Mingyu finally pulled back, he dragged his thumb over Wonwoo’s glistening lips, watching the way he exhaled shakily. "Swallow," he murmured, his voice low and commanding, his eyes dark with something primal.

Wonwoo obeyed, his throat bobbing slightly as he parted his lips again, his tongue peeking out just enough to show his obedience. Mingyu felt a slow smirk pull at his lips, pleased and utterly enthralled by the way Wonwoo submitted so easily, yet still held that quiet defiance in his eyes.

“Good boy,” Mingyu whispered against his lips before kissing him again—this time softer, almost sweet, as if he was savoring the moment, imprinting the taste of Wonwoo on his tongue like he never wanted to forget it.

"His loss," Mingyu murmured, brushing his knuckles over Wonwoo’s swollen lips. "A dirty little thing like you… and cute, too."

Wonwoo shivered at the words, his breath hitching audibly. His hands flexed on Mingyu’s thighs, and the small, needy sound he made had Mingyu exhaling sharply through his nose, fighting to keep himself in control.

With slow, deliberate movements, Mingyu stood, his fingers brushing against the hem of his hoodie before tugging it over his head. He pressed it into Wonwoo’s hands, the scent of him lingering in the fabric. "Wear it." His voice softened, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss against Wonwoo’s forehead—a stark contrast to the heat between them.

Wonwoo slipped it over his head, the fabric swallowing his frame. It felt warm, comforting, familiar, yet completely intoxicating with Mingyu’s scent surrounding him.

"Turn around," Mingyu said, his tone dipping lower, more commanding. "Hands on the couch."

Wonwoo swallowed, his body responding before his mind could catch up. He braced himself against the couch’s headrest, heart pounding as Mingyu stepped behind him, broad and imposing, his presence alone making Wonwoo feel lightheaded.

A strong hand gripped his waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind Wonwoo that Mingyu was in complete control. Then he felt it—the slow, torturous slide of Mingyu’s warmth against the back of his thighs, the deliberate pressure making him tremble.

"Close your thighs," Mingyu instructed, his voice right by Wonwoo’s ear.

A quiet whine escaped Wonwoo before he could stop it, his fingers tightening against the couch as he did what he was told. The moment his legs pressed together, Mingyu let out a low chuckle, his breath hot against Wonwoo’s neck.

"Good."

A rough hand tangled in Wonwoo’s hair, pulling his head back just enough to make their eyes meet. Mingyu’s dark gaze flickered over his face, drinking in every reaction. Then he leaned in, brushing a kiss against Wonwoo’s temple—slow, lingering, almost affectionate.

"You look so pretty like this, hyung. Especially with my scent all over you," The way he said it—low and teasing, laced with something possessive—sent a sharp jolt of heat through Wonwoo’s body. His breath stuttered, his lips parting involuntarily.

Mingyu smirked, pressing closer, his voice a taunting whisper against Wonwoo’s ear. "Are you getting worked up just from me calling you hyung?"

Wonwoo’s nails dug into the couch, his entire body betraying him with a shudder. Mingyu chuckled, the deep rumble of it sending sparks down Wonwoo’s spine.

"You are, aren’t you?" Mingyu hummed, dragging his nose along Wonwoo’s jaw, savoring the way he tensed and melted at the same time. "That’s cute."

Wonwoo squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip. This was dangerous. Mingyu was dangerous. But then again, hadn’t he always been?

And right now, Wonwoo was completely at his mercy.

Mingyu moved faster between Wonwoo’s thighs, his grip tightening around his waist as their bodies moved in sync. Wonwoo tilted his head back, breathless, his fingers tangling in Mingyu’s hair as he pressed his lips against his neck, inhaling deeply as if trying to drown himself in his scent.

"Please," Wonwoo gasped, his voice raw with desperation. "Need you inside me."

The sound of his pleading was all it took for Mingyu to lose control, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he came undone against Wonwoo’s thigh. His head fell forward, his breath hot against Wonwoo’s collarbone, his fingers digging into his hips as he rode out the moment.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Mingyu exhaled, his voice still laced with lingering pleasure.

But Wonwoo wasn’t done. He ignored the warmth trickling down his thigh, pushing Mingyu back onto the couch with a force that caught him off guard. Before Mingyu could react, Wonwoo straddled him again, his knees pressing into the cushions, his hands bracing against Mingyu’s chest.

“Let me ride you,” Wonwoo murmured, his lips already ghosting over Mingyu’s jaw as he reached back, teasingly running his fingers along Mingyu’s length. The sensation made Mingyu groan, his hands instinctively gripping Wonwoo’s thighs.

“You’re not prepped,” Mingyu managed to say, his voice rough with concern despite how much he wanted him.

“I don’t care,” Wonwoo whispered, determination flickering in his dark eyes. “I want to feel it. I want it to burn.”

Mingyu barely had time to protest before Wonwoo sank down, taking him in halfway. A sharp cry left his lips, his fingers trembling as he clutched at Mingyu’s shoulders, his body struggling to adjust.

“Wonwoo, if you can’t—” Mingyu started, his voice strained with restraint, but before he could finish, Wonwoo let out another broken sound and took him in fully, his body tensing as tears slipped down his cheeks.

Mingyu's heart clenched at the sight. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Wonwoo, holding him close, his lips pressing soft kisses against his damp cheeks, his touch gentle despite the intensity of the moment.

“You’re doing so good, hyung,” Mingyu whispered, voice soothing as his hands traced slow, comforting circles against Wonwoo’s back. “Take your time.”

Wonwoo buried his face in Mingyu’s shoulder, breathing heavily, his body trembling slightly as he adjusted. He held onto him tightly, grounding himself in Mingyu’s warmth, his scent, his steady presence.

And when he was ready, when the sting dulled into something deeper, something more, he finally moved.

Mingyu's hands gripped Wonwoo's waist, his fingers pressing firm into his skin as their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm. Their breaths intermingled, hot and ragged, as Wonwoo rode him, lost in the sensation of Mingyu stretching him, filling him, hitting that perfect spot over and over again.

His thighs burned, muscles trembling from the effort, but the pleasure was overwhelming, intoxicating—Mingyu beneath him, solid and strong, meeting his movements halfway, pushing deeper, harder.

“Don’t stop, Wonwoo,” Mingyu groaned, his voice rough, desperate.

Wonwoo couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to. His hands braced against Mingyu’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he chased his high, the coil tightening, winding impossibly tight until it finally snapped.

A sharp cry tore from his lips as he came, pleasure wracking through him in waves. Mingyu wasn’t far behind, his grip tightening, hips snapping up one last time before he groaned low in his throat, releasing deep inside him.

For a moment, they stayed like that—panting, bodies slick with sweat, the warmth of each other’s skin grounding them in the aftermath.

Mingyu pulled Wonwoo forward, arms wrapping around him as if he never wanted to let go. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, then another to his lips—soft, lingering, almost reverent.

“I love you, hyung,” he murmured, his voice hushed but certain. “I still do.”

Wonwoo’s breath hitched, his heart clenching at the words he hadn’t expected but somehow knew were coming. He exhaled shakily, burying his face in Mingyu’s shoulder, holding him just as tightly. “I love you too.”

Mingyu’s arms tightened around him, but then—

“But—”

“I know,” Mingyu said before Wonwoo could finish, his tone soft yet steady. “We fought a lot. Because of me. I got jealous too easily, I was over-possessive, and I hurt you because of it. I’m sorry, hyung.” His fingers traced slow, comforting circles against Wonwoo’s back. “I swear I’ve changed.”

Wonwoo sighed against his skin, his body exhausted, his mind clouded with warmth, but he heard every word. And he believed him.

“I promise I won’t make the same mistakes again,” Mingyu continued, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be better. I’ll make sure you never cry again.”

Wonwoo hummed sleepily, his response muffled against Mingyu’s skin, but the way he curled into him, the way his body softened in his arms, was answer enough.

Mingyu smiled, stroking lazy patterns along Wonwoo’s spine. “Well,” he mused, a teasing lilt creeping into his tone. “At least, not outside the bedroom.”

Wonwoo’s hand shot up, smacking Mingyu’s bare chest without even lifting his head.

Mingyu chuckled, catching Wonwoo’s wrist and pressing a kiss to his knuckles before shifting beneath him. “Okay, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with affection. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

And with that, he effortlessly lifted Wonwoo into his arms, carrying him away with all the care in the world.

141 notes · View notes

emmasintern · 3 months ago

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WARNING ❗nsfw audio

🎀 your boyfriend vernon send you a voice message just to show how much he misses you and your pretty pussy <3 please send him a reward!

746 notes · View notes

emmasintern · 4 months ago

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svt & nsfw links !

genre; nsfw, contains porn links from twitter, mdni <3 | a/n; wanted to this after seeing the gaming vid i linked wonu. don't like it? don't interact. not tagging cause idk if some will be comfy with this. sorry! otherwise, enjoy <333

mean dom! cheol who loves fucking the attitude out of you.

cheol who loves making your whole body tremble with his hands.

big dick! cheol who loves seeing the bulge on your stomach while fucking you

horny mornings with jeonghan but he's too lazy to fuck you

jeonghan likes to fuck you when spooning

meanie! joshua riling up his princess

joshua admiring you as you ride him

jun who couldn't resist himself seeing you in that tiny ass skirt.

mutual masturbation with jun

how drunk, needy sex with soonyoung goes.

soonyoung proving his pull-out game to you.

horribly failing a bet you had with gamer bf! wonwoo

rough fucking with wonwoo on the countertop while the food cooks.

riding jihoon's thighs as he works in the studio

jihoon helping his pretty girl ride him

minghao prepping you for his cock

minghao making out with your pussy and worshipping your body.

mingyu fingering his impatient passenger princess who's so horny.

giving mingyu a good ride

seokmin who tries fucking you in doggy but he needs to have your lips on his while he fucks you.

how study sessions with seokmin go.

seungkwan likes to suck on your tits as you ride him

seungkwan worshipping your body before sex

riling up vernon during a movie has pleasant consequences.

sucking on your tits during foreplay is a must for bf! vernon

bf! chan who cums right away when you thigh fuck him

teasing chan while wearing the panties he gifted you

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emmasintern · 1 year ago

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🛡🗝 Pre-Expedition Grappling

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emmasintern · 1 year ago

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THE GAME HE PLAYS (AND LOSES) - KOZUME KENMA/KUROO TETSUROU cw - bratting, brat taming, spanking, choking, overstimulation, coming in pants, dacryphilia, dom/sub play, sub!kenma, dom!kuroo, rough sex, making out, trans!kenma, hair-pulling wc - 1.4k shortened from ao3 for length lowercase intended

"i hate you so much, you're such a fuck-ing ah..!"

kuroo only hums, fingers still rubbing on top of kenma's still underwear-covered (that underwear being kuroo's) clit, "of course, you do angel."

"do not fucking call me that- shit!" kenma whines loudly, his back arched and his legs shaking, "oh my fucking- tetsurō-"

kuroo grinned widely, "'tetsurō' huh?" he slapped his thigh three times, "stop moving."

a moan drags out of kenma's throat but he stills for a second

kuroo basks in the pride of having kenma laying on his stomach across his lap with kuroo's fingers on his sex. the pride he feels from making kenma swallow his words even if it's just for a couple seconds before he's back to being a quick-witted brat. the pride of eventually putting that brat in his place permanently

kenma groaning loudly into the mattress of their bed pulls kuroo out of his thoughts

"fucking hell- kuro!"

kuroo huffs out a small laugh, "what happened to 'tetsurō?'"

"stop it!" kenma's legs kick out and he attempts to squirm out of kuroo's lap, "fuck you. you're such a shitbag, quit touching me!" sighing, kuroo subtly rolls his eyes and lets his hand fall from his boyfriend, "you're so vulgar. it's not cute, y'know?"

kenma lifts himself off of kuroo's lap and bit back the wince, a wince that kuroo didn't miss, one that he smirks at, that came from his burning behind making contact with the soft sheets of their bed, he doesn't bother swinging his legs off kuroo's lap

"i wasn't cute in the first place."

"i beg to differ."

kenma closes his eyes and inhales sharply, "i feel like you're fucking with me on purpose."

"yeah?" kuroo feigns the most realistic, fake sympathetic smile he can, "what are you gonna do about it, kenma?"

kenma bit his lip at the way kuroo said his name, his breathing visibly getting shorter

asshole, he knows what he's doing

"kuro-"

"hm?" kuroo tilted his head innocently, "what is it, pretty?"

kenma knew the sweet sweet saccharine tone was misleading and the only thing that would come out of it was hell. he did. he knew that. but it was so hard to keep his arousal at bay.

getting so lost in his own head, kuroo managed to slip his fingers between his legs and back against kenma's crotch, not moving them and still smiling as if he hadn't a care in the world. well, to be fair, most of this did only affect kenma so.

"why are you glaring at me? quit acting like you didn't willingly bring this upon yourself." kuroo gently trailed his fingers up and down the younger's back with his other hand.

kenma gasped and gripped the fabric of kuroo's volleyball shorts that he still hadn't changed out of, "tetsurō- agh..- asshole, stop.."

kenma goes ignored for the sake of kuroo burying his face in his shoulder

"and punching one of your teammates for no reason makes you the not-asshole?" he nips and licks at kenma's pale skin lightly, causing him to squirm and gasp louder.

eventually, kuroo's fingers on kenma's sex start moving ever so slightly but it's enough for kenma's eyes to widen a fraction before they flutter closed and he beats lightly at kuroo's chest.

"stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.." "aww, is poor little kenma all hot and bothered because of me?"

kenma laughs breathily, "hah- you fucking wish.."

the smile on his face drops slowly into something more and kenma senses he's fucked up. he's already too deep in to avoid the karma that is coming for him so, what's the point in holding back?

"i could replace you with anyone i wanted like that." kuroo only bit his tongue and internalized the want to wipe that smug look off his face, kenma was trying to provoke him to get what he wanted faster and if he doesn't give it to him, he'll just shut the fuck up

at least, he hopes

and kenma just keeps talking,

"people always say i'm way- ah, out of your league. that i'm too hot and pretty for you. i could pull anyone i want and you're just stuck-" he closes his mouth right before a whine can leave his throat as kuroo's fingers start moving faster. kuroo presses his lips together in a small grin.

"you were saying?"

of course, kenma takes it as a challenge and goes at it, "that if you don't fuck me right now, i'll call keiji and let him fuck me because you're so fucki-" kenma gets cut off by his breath forcing its way out of his lungs as kuroo throws him against the (absurd amount of) pillows on their bed, wrapping his hand around kenma's neck and squeezing lightly enough that kenma could still breath okay but tightly enough to pose a threat.

"keiji, huh?" kuroo leans down to nip at kenma's ear as if he wasn't choking the shit out of him, "you'd let keiji fuck you?"

of course, the arrogance won't leave kenma's body until he's been broken down on every single level possible- which is exactly what he wants. kuroo doesn't wish to indulge in him so soon.

kenma coughs and sounds more like a whine, "i- ah..- yeah, at least he'd be a better fuck buddy than you- ngh-"

the grip on kenma's neck grew tighter and suddenly he can't breathe. kuroo has an air of aggression peering over him as they meet eyes

"keep it up and i'll spank you so hard and fast 'till your fucking gagging for it. then i'll just make you beg for it like your life depends on it before i even think about fucking you." his boyfriend snarls and kenma feels like his head is going to explode with arousal (and being lightheaded)

"or i could just not let you cum at all anyway and let you cry about it." kenma whimpers the best he can. the idea is one kuroo brings up a lot during their small rendezvous but he's only followed through with it a handful of times. times kenma's behaviour was so bad yaku had smacked him. he didn't enjoy being edged, hated it even, but the threat accompanied by his airway being blocked had him dizzy.

that could also have something to with the limited oxygen reaching his lungs

he's brought back to reality by a harsh tug on the skin of his neck and kuroo's knee is pressing on his crotch lightly. somehow, someway, he manages a strangled cry and kuroo smiles again, "yeah, you want that?" kuroo whispers directly against his neck and it burns. his resolve is fading and fading fast.

kuroo feels him shake his head more than he sees it, "no?" kenma feels a slap on his thigh and kuroo licking over the bite mark now beaming red on kenma's skin, breathing right on his ear

and then he can't hold back anymore. both of his smaller hands come up to grab kuroo's wrist hard. a euphoric whine blended between a sob makes its way past kenma's throat and his whole body is racked with a shudder he can't push away. kuroo's hand moved from his neck to over his mouth at the same time that his knee pressed unbearably harder on his groin and kenma borderline screams as he comes

although there is nothing restricting his throat anymore, kenma doesn't breathe until he's completely off the ride that was his orgasm. he takes in a huge breath and immediately lets it out over and over, small moans leaving him occasionally

kuroo takes a second to admire the scene he'd helped create; kenma's chest rising and falling rapidly, panting, his legs shaking as he squeezed them together hard, his dazed and cloudy eyes, his (kuroo's) soaked and dripping underwear, and the way the back of his hand comes up to cover his mouth

after a while, kenma's eyes are focused enough for him to meet kuroo's eyes. pretty, so so pretty. the embodiment of everything soft and pink and kuroo's so in love with the pain in the ass that is his boyfriend

kuroo reaches over to brush kenma's sweaty hair out of his eyes, "you okay, angel?"

it was a genuine question, kenma could tell, he could see the small glint of concern in his eyes. but because his boyfriend was the way he was, he could also see lust and mockery

"sh-shut u-"

kenma's words are cut off by himself, a drawn-out whine as kuroo squeezed the sides of his neck again, warning, "mn, i'd watch your words, slut. you're the one who came from being choked out,"

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