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yunwoositho · 5 days ago

Text

All Of You

[ S. Mingi ]

╚═════════

summary: in which your best friend helps you through your heat

warning: biting, knotting, possessive mingi, best friends to lovers, unprotected sex

pairing: alpha mingi x omega afab reader

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

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It started in the middle of the day.

A small ache low in your belly, just enough to make you pause at your desk. You’d brushed it off. You’d been managing your heats well for over a year, with well-timed suppressants and carefully curated distractions. It wasn’t supposed to hit yet, not for another week.

But by the time you stepped off the bus and climbed the stairs to your shared apartment with your best friend Mingi, your skin was on fire.

You fumbled with your keys, biting your lip to muffle the shaky exhale that escaped. Your thighs pressed together, your scent already turning sharp, sweet, needy. You prayed he wouldn’t be home yet. You could bury yourself in your room, get to your nest, take something to dull it.

The door creaked open.

And he was there. On the couch, hoodie draped over his massive frame, hair tousled, eyes focused on the tv, until his head snapped up.

You froze.

He sniffed once. Twice. Then his jaw clenched.

“Y/N,” Mingi said slowly, voice dropping. Realization hitting him fast. “You’re in heat.”

You tried to keep it together. You even forced a wobbly smile. “It’s fine. Just early. I…. I’ve got it.”

But the tremble in your hands betrayed you.

He stood, the loose hoodie doing nothing to hide the way his muscles tensed under the fabric. “You’re not fine.”

“I just need to get to my room,” you whispered, backing up. “I’ll be okay.”

Your scent was blooming now, thick and warm, swirling through the space like temptation made real. Mingi’s nostrils flared. He didn’t move toward you, but his eyes darkened, pupils blown wide, and you knew every instinct in him was screaming to claim, to take.

“I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.” He said softly. He’s never been home during, always gave you space.

You stared at him for a beat too long. Then turned and rushed to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft click.

It didn’t help.

Your nest was already calling. You collapsed into it with a strangled whine, yanking off your jeans and hoodie, burying your face in the softest blanket you owned, the one that smelled like him. You hated how your body responded, how the fire in your core burned hotter every time you thought of his scent.

Outside your door, you heard footsteps.

A knock.

“I left water and one of my hoodies outside the door,” Mingi murmured. “I know you like mine more than your own.” He was teasing you, trying to lighten the mood.

“Thank you,” you managed.

Hours passed. The ache deepened into something unbearable. The slick between your thighs soaked through your sleep shorts. Your suppressants didn’t work. You tried everything, cool showers, distracting videos, rubbing out an orgasm that did nothing but leave you sobbing for more.

By the time you opened your door, your face was flushed and your knees shaky. Mingi was still awake, of course he was. Sitting at the kitchen table, jaw tight, hands clasped like he was praying, or trying to hold himself back.

You didn’t say a word.

You just stood there in your sleep shirt, scent flooding the apartment, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

And he was in front of you in seconds.

You walked into his chest, pressed your cheek against him, and let out a shuddering breath. “Please,” you whispered. “Please help me.”

Something in him snapped.

You barely registered being lifted into his arms, cradled against him like you weighed nothing. He carried you back to your nest, his scent pouring over you now, soothing, possessive, perfect.

He laid you down gently, and the moment his body hovered over yours, you arched into him like you were made for it.

“Are you sure?” he asked, lips brushing your jaw, his breath warm.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Mingi, I need you. I need your knot.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest.

Clothes vanished. His body was everywhere, lips trailing fire down your neck, his hands mapping every inch of you with reverence and hunger. He mouthed at your mating gland, then lower, until his tongue was lapping between your thighs and you were writhing beneath him.

“Mingi…. please…” you grasped at his hair, grinding yourself against him, against his tongue, needing more, so much more!

He kissed his way back up your body, and when he finally pressed into you, thick, hot and big, you cried out, clutching at his arms as he bottomed out slowly, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, forehead resting against yours. “So wet. I’ve dreamed of this. Of you.”

You clenched around him, desperate, needy, your hips meeting him thrust for thrust until the pleasure blurred into pure instinct.

And then he pulled back, only to slam back in, his pace turning feral.

You felt his knot swelling, pressing against your entrance with each thrust. You whimpered, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Alpha, please,” you begged. “Give it to me. Knot me…. please…. Mingi…”

He growled, snapping his hips forward one last time.

You screamed his name as his knot popped inside you, locking you together. He moaned, spilling into you with thick, hot pulses as your body milked him through your climax, slick and cum mixing deep inside.

You were still shaking when he collapsed over you, careful not to crush you, his mouth finding yours in a tender kiss that had no business being that soft.

You lay tangled in the soft mess of your nest, still filled and stretched around Mingi’s knot, your bodies locked together. His thumb stroked gentle circles into your hip as your breathing slowly leveled out, though your skin still buzzed from the aftermath.

But underneath that warmth, the bond tugged at you. Unfulfilled. Incomplete.

“I should clean you up,” he murmured eventually, lips brushing your temple.

You nodded sleepily. “Only if you come with me.”

He chuckled low, then gently helped you to your feet, supporting your shaky legs with one arm around your waist. The walk to the bathroom was a blur, Mingi guiding you, you clinging to his chest, the heat between your legs still aching in the best way.

The second the warm water hit your bodies, you melted against him.

He stood behind you, arms wrapped around your middle, letting the water cascade over your flushed skin as he kissed your shoulder, your neck, the back of your ear.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered. “Not while you’re still sensitive.”

“You’re not hurting me,” you whispered back, arching into him, your body already waking up again. “I want more.”

He groaned, hips brushing yours, and you felt his dick hardening again against your ass.

You turned around, kissed him deeply, tongues tangling as the steam rose around you. “I want to feel it again,” you whispered against his lips. “All of you.”

“You have me,” he said. “You’ve always had me.”

Your hand slid up to his chest, resting just over his pounding heart. “I want you to claim me, Mingi.”

He stilled.

Then his eyes darkened to pure hunger, his voice low and rough. “Say it again.”

You swallowed, breath hitching. “Claim me. Bite me. Make me yours.”

That was all it took.

He slammed you back gently against the shower wall, water pouring between your bodies as he sank into you in one smooth, devastating thrust. You gasped, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, your nails digging into his wet skin.

The way he moved was different now, possessive, like every thrust was a promise, like he was already staking his claim.

“Mine,” he growled, thrusts deep and hard. “You’re mine, Omega. No one else gets to have you.”

“Yours,” you moaned, head thrown back, baring your throat. “I’m yours, please…”

His teeth grazed your mating gland.

Then he bit down.

The sharp sting was drowned out by the blinding rush of heat, your body clenching violently around him as your orgasm tore through you. You screamed his name, slick coating his length as he held you tighter than ever.

His knot swelled again, locking you together as he filled you a second time, moaning into your neck, tongue soothing over the fresh mark now sealing you to him forever.

Panting, still trembling, you clung to him. And he kissed you like he’d waited his whole life to do it right.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again. “Best friend or not. You always were.”

You smiled, dizzy and full of him in every way.

“And you’re mine,” you whispered back. “Alpha.”

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permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ecriggs1990

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yunwoositho · 8 days ago

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I Eat On That Couch

[ S. Mingi + J. Yunho ]

╚═════════

summary: in which your two best friends finally get to have their way with you

warning: threesome, dom mingi, soft dom yunho, shared reader, possessiveness, overstimulation, oral, double penetration, unprotected sex

pairing: yungi x afab reader

genre: smut

word count: 1.2k

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

You should’ve known Mingi had something on his mind the second he looked at you like that as you followed him into his apartment he shared with his best friend.

Not the usual lazy grin or the boyish charm that made you weak, no, this look was darker. Focused. Like he’d already made up his mind and nothing, not even your better judgment, was going to stop him.

His lips were on yours, hungry, hot, all tongue and teeth as the front door slammed shut behind you. The kind of kiss that steals your balance and sets your skin on fire.

The couch caught you both as you stumbled back, and then it was chaos.

Clothes hit the floor like they were allergic to your skin. His shirt landed on one Yunho’s ps5 controllers, your bra tangled with one of Mingi’s guitar straps left lying around. You didn’t care. You’d never seen Mingi like this, his eyes heavy with lust, jaw tight, muscles flexing as he pulled you onto his lap.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned, dragging his mouth along your neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.”

“Here?” you gasped, grinding your hips down against the bulge in his jeans. You were on the living room couch, right out in the open. “Yunho could walk in…”

“Let him.” His fingers dug into your hips. “This couch. Every time you sat on it in those little shorts, legs crossed like you didn’t know what you were doing to me…”

“Mingi..”

He flipped you in one smooth motion, your back against the cushions, his mouth hot on your chest, your stomach, your thighs. “I’ve been patient. I tried being good.”

He kissed the inside of your thigh, right where you needed him most, but didn’t move higher. “Fuck good.”

He finally slid your panties aside and licked up you in one long, devastating stroke that had your eyes rolling back. He didn’t stop there, he devoured you, moaning like you were his favorite meal, pulling your legs over his shoulders, his tongue relentless.

“Mingi….fuck, you’re….”

He sucked your clit into his mouth at the exact moment he slid two fingers inside you, slow but deep, and you broke apart with a cry, clenching around him. His fingers were so long and thick, hitting your g spot.

“You taste so fucking good.” he growled, licking you clean as you shook underneath him. “Come here.”

He didn’t even let you catch your breath before he was positioning himself above you, one arm braced behind your back, the other gripping your thigh. You reached for him, dizzy with want, nails dragging down his back.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered, nose brushing yours.

“I want it. I want you.”

That’s all it took.

He slid into you in one deep, smooth thrust that knocked the air from your lungs. He was so big, stretching you and filling you so full. Your moan echoed off the walls, and he swallowed it with another kiss, fucking you deep and slow, hips rolling in perfect rhythm.

“God, you feel…” he couldn’t even finish, just groaned and slammed into you harder, one hand wrapping around your throat, thumb resting gently under your jaw.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured, voice shaking. “This couch? Mine. You? Mine.”

You were too far gone to argue, not that you ever would. You locked your legs around him and met every thrust, the slap of skin on skin so loud, so obscene, you were sure the neighbors, someone, would hear.

And someone did.

Yunho was just coming out of his room, half asleep, shirtless, sweats hanging low on his hips.

Both of you froze.

Yunho stood in the living room, eyes going wide, cupids bow lips a little swollen from sleep, hanging open.

He blinked. “I eat on that couch.”

You squeaked, burying your face in Mingi’s chest.

Mingi didn’t even stop moving. He grinned, looked over his shoulder, and said, completely unfazed. “So did I.”

Yunho was turning around to go hide back in his room when Mingi’s voice stopped him.

“Stay.”

The single word rang out like a command. Sharp. Confident.

You were still beneath Mingi, your skin flushed, your body wrecked from the first round, but your eyes flew open, wide and disbelieving.

“Mingi….” you whispered, half protest, half question, your voice wrecked and raw.

Mingi didn’t look away from Yunho. “You always stare at her when you think I’m not watching.” His tone was calm. Dangerous. “You want her, too.”

Yunho’s jaw clenched. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Oh?” Mingi finally turned his head to glance at you, glowing, panting, dripping, still spread across the couch like a sin incarnate. He dragged a single finger through your folds, and you gasped, arching. “She doesn’t seem to mind the attention.”

Your thighs trembled. Your body betrayed you with every wet sound.

“You want to taste her?” Mingi asked, voice low and dark. “Go ahead. I’ll share.” He looked back down at you, eyes dark and possessive. “Only with him.”

Yunho’s breath hitched. “You’re serious?”

Mingi just sat back on his heels, still inside you, grinning like the devil. “Dead serious.”

Yunho stared at you. You didn’t speak, but your eyes said it all. The heat. The want. The permission.

That’s all it took.

Yunho stepped towards you beside the couch.

The moment felt surreal, Mingi still inside you, Yunho dropping to his knees in front of the couch like he was in a trance. His big hands landed on your thighs and pushed them apart further. He looked up at you once.

You nodded.

And Yunho lowered his head.

His tongue found your clit immediately, hot, firm, skilled and the sound you made was filthy. Mingi groaned above you, gripping your waist tighter as Yunho’s tongue lapped at you from below, flicking and sucking in rhythm with Mingi’s slow thrusts.

You were overwhelmed.

Stretched around Mingi, devoured by Yunho, your hands scrambled for something to hold, but all you found were broad chests, flushed skin, and endless pleasure.

“You’re shaking,” Yunho murmured against you, his mouth soaked, chin glistening. “You gonna come?”

“Not yet,” Mingi growled, thrusting harder, knocking Yunho’s chin with the force of it. “Not until I say.”

Your back arched, tears springing to your eyes from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got her,” Yunho said, voice hoarse, eyes on you like you were sacred. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Mingi snarled above you and pulled out. “Flip her over.”

And Yunho did.

You were dizzy, breathless, pressed face down into the couch with Yunho’s hands braced around you, guiding you down onto his cock, he was a little bigger than Mingi, hard, and now slick with you.

Then Mingi knelt behind you and slid right back in, feeling himself thrusts alongside Yunho, both of them now stretching you, filling you together.

You choked on your own scream as both of them moved in sync, surrounding you, using you, worshipping you.

“Look at her,” Mingi groaned, sweat dripping from his temple. “Taking both of us like a fucking dream.”

Yunho’s hands trembled against your hips. “She’s perfect.”

You shattered again, body convulsing between them, cries muffled by the couch. They didn’t stop. Not right away.

You lost count of how many times you came. How many filthy things they whispered. How many times they kissed each other over your back while you trembled beneath them.

And later, when you were limp and barely conscious, curled between their warm bodies, Yunho blinked at the ceiling and muttered, “…I still eat on that couch.”

Mingi grinned. “And now you eat with me.”

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permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ecriggs1990

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yunwoositho · 8 days ago

Note

thinking lately about best friend yunho + him noticing reader has an oral fixation ; and how often he'd feed into it, always getting you new candy, or toothpicks from restaurants, even straws when all he wants to do is offer himself or his fingers. i feel like i'm losing my mind over it

dude 🙂

i've never really talked about it, but best friend!yunho who turns out to be a huge perv is like...my favorite thing ever. especially when it's with a super naive reader who just thinks he's been sweet and protective.

like the both of you will stop at a small candy store together when your walking on the sidewalk on the way back to your house. and he buys you a cherry sucker because he's just so kind. but when you ask him to give it to you, he just unwraps and and presses it to your lips.

you look at him confused, and just mutters, "open up, sweetheart." and you're so fucking embarrassed at how much it turns you on when he slips that sucker into your mouth, dragging it along your tongue. you're so focused on avoiding eye contact that you don't see the way he stares at you with half-lidded eyes, god he wants to destroy you.

he wants to train your little throat to take him one day. and he can just see how much you would like that. he can see it from the way you squeeze your thighs together when he offers you a sip on his coffee. and he makes sure to guide the straw to your mouth so that your lips wrap around his fingers ever so slightly when you take a sip.

and because he's just so mean like that he gives you a little "good girl" after you take a sip, and when you look up into his eyes, even you can tell that the look he's giving you is far from an innocent one.

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yunwoositho · 9 days ago

Text

I Eat On That Couch

[ S. Mingi + J. Yunho ]

╚═════════

summary: in which your two best friends finally get to have their way with you

warning: threesome, dom mingi, soft dom yunho, shared reader, possessiveness, overstimulation, oral, double penetration, unprotected sex

pairing: yungi x afab reader

genre: smut

word count: 1.2k

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

You should’ve known Mingi had something on his mind the second he looked at you like that as you followed him into his apartment he shared with his best friend.

His lips were on yours, hungry, hot, all tongue and teeth as the front door slammed shut behind you. The kind of kiss that steals your balance and sets your skin on fire.

The couch caught you both as you stumbled back, and then it was chaos.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned, dragging his mouth along your neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.”

“Here?” you gasped, grinding your hips down against the bulge in his jeans. You were on the living room couch, right out in the open. “Yunho could walk in…”

“Let him.” His fingers dug into your hips. “This couch. Every time you sat on it in those little shorts, legs crossed like you didn’t know what you were doing to me…”

“Mingi..”

He flipped you in one smooth motion, your back against the cushions, his mouth hot on your chest, your stomach, your thighs. “I’ve been patient. I tried being good.”

He kissed the inside of your thigh, right where you needed him most, but didn’t move higher. “Fuck good.”

“Mingi….fuck, you’re….”

“You taste so fucking good.” he growled, licking you clean as you shook underneath him. “Come here.”

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered, nose brushing yours.

“I want it. I want you.”

That’s all it took.

“God, you feel…” he couldn’t even finish, just groaned and slammed into you harder, one hand wrapping around your throat, thumb resting gently under your jaw.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured, voice shaking. “This couch? Mine. You? Mine.”

And someone did.

Yunho was just coming out of his room, half asleep, shirtless, sweats hanging low on his hips.

Both of you froze.

Yunho stood in the living room, eyes going wide, cupids bow lips a little swollen from sleep, hanging open.

He blinked. “I eat on that couch.”

You squeaked, burying your face in Mingi’s chest.

Mingi didn’t even stop moving. He grinned, looked over his shoulder, and said, completely unfazed. “So did I.”

Yunho was turning around to go hide back in his room when Mingi’s voice stopped him.

“Stay.”

The single word rang out like a command. Sharp. Confident.

You were still beneath Mingi, your skin flushed, your body wrecked from the first round, but your eyes flew open, wide and disbelieving.

“Mingi….” you whispered, half protest, half question, your voice wrecked and raw.

Mingi didn’t look away from Yunho. “You always stare at her when you think I’m not watching.” His tone was calm. Dangerous. “You want her, too.”

Yunho’s jaw clenched. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Your thighs trembled. Your body betrayed you with every wet sound.

“You want to taste her?” Mingi asked, voice low and dark. “Go ahead. I’ll share.” He looked back down at you, eyes dark and possessive. “Only with him.”

Yunho’s breath hitched. “You’re serious?”

Mingi just sat back on his heels, still inside you, grinning like the devil. “Dead serious.”

Yunho stared at you. You didn’t speak, but your eyes said it all. The heat. The want. The permission.

That’s all it took.

Yunho stepped towards you beside the couch.

You nodded.

And Yunho lowered his head.

You were overwhelmed.

Stretched around Mingi, devoured by Yunho, your hands scrambled for something to hold, but all you found were broad chests, flushed skin, and endless pleasure.

“You’re shaking,” Yunho murmured against you, his mouth soaked, chin glistening. “You gonna come?”

“Not yet,” Mingi growled, thrusting harder, knocking Yunho’s chin with the force of it. “Not until I say.”

Your back arched, tears springing to your eyes from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got her,” Yunho said, voice hoarse, eyes on you like you were sacred. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Mingi snarled above you and pulled out. “Flip her over.”

And Yunho did.

You were dizzy, breathless, pressed face down into the couch with Yunho’s hands braced around you, guiding you down onto his cock, he was a little bigger than Mingi, hard, and now slick with you.

Then Mingi knelt behind you and slid right back in, feeling himself thrusts alongside Yunho, both of them now stretching you, filling you together.

You choked on your own scream as both of them moved in sync, surrounding you, using you, worshipping you.

“Look at her,” Mingi groaned, sweat dripping from his temple. “Taking both of us like a fucking dream.”

Yunho’s hands trembled against your hips. “She’s perfect.”

You shattered again, body convulsing between them, cries muffled by the couch. They didn’t stop. Not right away.

You lost count of how many times you came. How many filthy things they whispered. How many times they kissed each other over your back while you trembled beneath them.

And later, when you were limp and barely conscious, curled between their warm bodies, Yunho blinked at the ceiling and muttered, “…I still eat on that couch.”

Mingi grinned. “And now you eat with me.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ecriggs1990

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yunwoositho · 9 days ago

Text

YUNHO ✶ MUSIC CORE 231216

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yunwoositho · 9 days ago

Text

sunday morning

𖤓 summary: the one where you wake up too soon from a wet dream and your boyfriend is there to help you... relieve the tension. 𖤓 warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, established relationship, some degradation, bdsm dynamics, yeo is a bit of a mean dom!! you've been warned!!, use of the color system, some choking, fingering, spanking, lovebites, oral sex (f receiving), edging, unprotected sex (don't do that), yes there's aftercare im not a monster 𖤓 dom!yeosang x fem!sub!reader 𖤓 author's note: i know i said i would post this by the end of march but wedding planning and school and work are consuming my life!!!!! finished this with a literal ear infection bc i NEEDED to put it out into the universe lol. this was originally inspired by the fact that yeosang uses the replica lazy sunday morning fragrance and quickly spiraled into depravity. yeosang wrecks me every day of my life and i KNOW he gets nasty. he's too quiet to be anything other than a dom, sorry! this is also my first time writing a relationship with bdsm dynamics so please feel free to leave (constructive and kind) feedback! 𖤓 word count: 5.9k 𖤓 read it on ao3 here

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Sangie, please” you moan into your boyfriend’s neck, his cock plunging in and out of you at a relentless pace.

“What is it, pretty girl?” he teases, his fingers finding your clit, circling the sensitive bud to match the pace of his thrusts.

”I’m so close, baby, fuck,” your hands tangle in his dark hair as you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your neck. He licks a firm stripe from your collarbone to right below your ear, never slowing his hips.

“Come on then, baby, fall apart around my cock,” he growls into your ear.

The pleasure settles in your core, hot and heavy, building and building as your bodies move in sync. He hits that soft spot inside of you, and you cry out, his name falling off your lips over and over like a mantra.

“Yeo, oh my god,” you whimper, “fuck, I’m gonna —“

A loud crash startles you from your sleep, pulling you from your delicious dream. The soft morning light creeps through the blinds of your shared bedroom, casting gentle stripes across your duvet. The city outside is still quiet as you try to shake the heat from your system, Yeosang’s cold empty side of the bed helping bring you back to reality. You let out a slow breath, stretching your tired muscles, trying to jumpstart your body, ignoring the wetness that had begun to pool in your sleep shorts thanks to your subconscious. You roll over to face your nightstand, squinting at the clock — 9:15 AM. Yeosang always wakes up earlier than you, and sleeping this late is out of the question, unless he’s on his deathbed with a cold.

You untangle from the sheets, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed to stretch, letting your feet rest on the sun-warmed wooden floor. The morning light shines bright through your window, the warmth melting into your skin. You hear rustling in the kitchen, and realize the sound that startled you awake must have something to do with your boyfriend making you both breakfast, like he does every Sunday.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you throw a fuzzy cardigan over the tank top you slept in, to match your shorts. Yeosang always gifts you sets of loungewear, because he knows how happy it makes you to laze around the house in something cute. You make your way down the hallway, the warm smell of cinnamon and vanilla wafting around you the closer you get to the kitchen. You round the corner to see your boyfriend bent over the sink, washing dishes from last night’s dinner. A fresh pan of cinnamon rolls sits on the counter next to him. Your favorite.

“Good morning, Sangie,” you softly say from the doorway, so as not to startle him. He peaks over his shoulder at you briefly before turning the water off, a breathtaking smile consuming his features. His gray sweatpants hug his slender hips, and the tight black tank top he’s sporting gives you an unobstructed view of his broad shoulders and strong arms. God, he looks good.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he coos, his deep voice still raspy from sleep. He quickly dries his hands on a dish towel before discarding it on the counter and making his way over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a warm hug, his familiar scent enveloping you. His fingers rub absentminded circles on your skin as he holds you, his hot touch reminding you what you were dreaming about before you were jolted from your sleep. You feel your cheeks warm, thinking about how, in your mind, he was inside of you moments ago.

“Did I wake you? I tried to wash everything quietly, but the pan we used last night slipped and I banged it on the counter,” he kisses your forehead, the lingering warmth of his breath working you up even more.

“It’s okay, baby,” you pull back to kiss his nose, trying to shake the heat from your body. “I needed to get up anyway. I missed you.” You wonder if he can tell how hot and bothered you are. He knows your body like the back of his hand, and when you’re needy, he picks up on it right away.

“Yeah? Were you dreaming about me?” He squeezes your hips before releasing you, picking the dish towel up and walking back to the sink to hang it up.

“No,” you blush, sensing he already knows the answer. He chuckles darkly, leaning back on the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“If those pretty little moans I heard coming from our bedroom are any indication, I’m gonna have to call you a liar, baby,” he smirks at you as your soft smile falls from your face. “Wanna try to answer truthfully this time?” The tone of his voice has shifted from the sweet, doting boyfriend he was moments ago, the version of him you only see in the bedroom starting to crack through the surface.

“Y-Yeo, I—“ you stumble over your words. Of course you gave yourself away, how embarrassing. Your face feels like it’s on fire.

“What was I doing, hm?” Yeosang prowls toward you slowly, a strand of his dark hair floating down onto his forehead. “Tasting you? Fingering you? Fucking you?” He stops in his tracks, waiting for your answer.

The words coming out of his mouth have your mind reeling, a pit of pleasure settling in your belly. You let your cardigan fall from your shoulder, suddenly aware of how his hungry eyes are raking over your body.

“Fucking me,” you barely recognize the sound of your voice, breathless and desperate, “you were fucking me,”

“Mmm,” his deep voice sounds like honey, “and how was it, hm? Did I let you come?” He creeps closer to you, only a few steps away.

“I-I woke up, before I could,” you start, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Oh, jagiya,” he finally closes the distance between the two of you, slowly wrapping one arm around your body, his hand snaking down to cup your ass. “You must be so pent up, my love.” His other hand comes up to your neck, brushing your hair away to ghost his lips over your bare shoulder. He trails featherlight kisses up your shoulder, to your neck, settling right by your ear. “Do you want me to help you with that?” His deep voice whispering over your sensitive skin… he knows what that does to you.

You’re nodding before your voice catches up. “Yes, Sangie, please,” you whisper, bracing yourself on Yeosang’s shoulders as he nips at your neck. He nods at your pleading, willing as always to take care of you.

“Should I bring you to bed, or take you here first?” He bites down on your shoulder, growling into your skin.

You whimper at the sensation, “now, Yeo please, I need you to touch me now,” your hands float up to his hair, lacing through his dark locks.

“Mm,” he tuts, “what if I want to do both?” He pulls away from you to look into your eyes, pupils blown wide with desire. He brings a hand to your chin, thumbing your bottom lip. You open your mouth for him instinctively, and he hooks his thumb on your bottom teeth, tilting your head up at him. “Why don’t I make you come once here, and then I’ll take you to bed and fuck you back to sleep.”

You nod as you close your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around it, drawing a deep groan up his throat.

He moves quickly, popping his thumb out of your mouth to plant his hands on your hips. The room around you spins, and suddenly your back is pressed up against him. He wraps an arm around your stomach and brings his other hand to your throat, caging you in his grip. You feel his hardness pressing into your ass as he rolls his hips into you. You whimper, leaning into him, chasing every little touch he’s willing to give you.

“What does my baby want?” He whispers in your ear, tightening his hand on your throat and sliding his other down to ghost his fingers under the band of your shorts, “should I bend you over the counter and have you come around my fingers? Or should I put you on the counter and fuck you with my tongue?” He squeezes the sides of your neck gently, just enough to make your head spin.

“F-fingers,” you choke out, rolling your ass over him.

He shoves you forward, into the counter, the hard marble digging into your hips as he moves his hand from your stomach to the middle of your back to push your torso over the countertop. You brace yourself, planting your hands on either side of your head, and he releases your throat to grip your hair, tipping your head to the side and squishing your cheek into the cold surface.

“Don’t tell me you’re so fucking cock hungry that you forgot your manners,” he scolds you, ripping your sleep shorts down with one hand and smacking your ass with a loud crack.

“Ah-! Fuck,” you cry out, the pain warming you from the inside out, a rush of arousal flooding your center. “Please, I want your fingers Sangie, please,”

”Good fucking girl,” he coos, “and no panties, huh?” He pulls his hands from you and takes a step back, leaving you bent over the counter with an angry red handprint blooming on your naked ass. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this, fucking hell,” he runs a hand through his hair as he admires you.

You know he’s teasing you by not touching you right away, so you take it upon yourself to kick your shorts to the side and prop one shaking leg up on the counter, presenting yourself to him.

“Mmm, you’re practically dripping, jagi,” he zeroes in on your center, “you must’ve been really close in that little dream of yours, hm?”

Before you can formulate a snarky reply, he’s behind you, plunging two fingers deep inside of you, using his free hand to grip your hip and hold you in place. You stammer out a curse at the sensation, your mouth hanging open against the cold countertop as he stretches you out. He immediately finds that tender spot inside of you, pressing the pads of his fingers against it over and over and over.

“Yeo, oh my god,” you whimper, that familiar pit of warmth settling in your stomach.

“Already squeezing around my fingers like you’re gonna come? I’ve barely touched you,” he teases you, his mean, dominant facade slipping into place.

“F-feels so good Sangie, can’t help it, mmhn,” you’re practically drooling on the counter as he pistons his fingers in and out, reaching deep inside of you.

He pulls his fingers from your center, bringing his hand down hard on your ass again. You cry out against the marble, tears blurring your vision as his fingers find your swollen clit. Your knee almost buckles underneath you as he expertly swirls around it, so familiar with your body, but he holds you up with a firm hand on your hip.

“You wanna come, baby? Hm?” He quickens his pace, dipping his fingers inside of you to gather more of your arousal.

“Yes, please,” you whimper.

“Then come.” He almost sounds bored as he applies just the right amount of pressure to make you crumble in his hold, holding you steady as your body shakes.

“T-thank you,” you cry out, your climax washing over you, wiping out all your strength.

“So good for me,” Yeosang whispers, holding you in place, letting your body go limp over the countertop. He rubs both thumbs into the small of your back, letting you come down for a few quiet beats before bringing you back to the moment.

“Color?” He quietly asks, the tone of his voice softening for a moment as he turns his attention to your hips, softly massaging your joints.

“Green, very much green,” you sigh between breaths.

“Then come on, pretty girl,” he growls from behind you, pulling his hands from your body and taking a few slow steps backwards, “you want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

You push yourself up on the counter, slowly lowering your trembling leg to the floor.

“Yes, please Yeo,” you turn to face him, leaning back on the sturdy surface behind you, your brain still fuzzy and your hearing a bit muffled. His fingers are glistening with your arousal, the outline of his cock pressing against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. Your core pulses at the sight.

“Then let’s go,” he beckons you, taking a few more steps backwards toward your shared bedroom, fire simmering behind his eyes.

You follow his lead, your unsteady legs carrying you a few steps before your boyfriend raises a hand up to stop you.

“Nuh-uh,” he scolds you, shaking his head.

You tilt your head at him in question, the teasing lilt in his voice making you dizzy as you realize what you’re in for. So he’s in this kind of mood.

“Crawl.”

Dropping to your knees without a second thought, a gasp leaves your lips as you hit the floor, the deep growl in his command making your body react instantly.

“Good girl.“ His cock twitches in his sweatpants. “Now, you can follow me.” He smirks at you as you lower your hands to the floor, and you feel thankful that the warm sun flooding through your kitchen windows has heated the floorboards.

You keep your eyes locked on his while you follow him on all fours, making sure to exaggerate the sway of your hips and the arch of your back as you crawl.

“Well, don’t you look so pretty on your hands and knees for me, hm? Obedient little slut.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks at the emphasis on his last word, knowing he’s only saying it because he knows how much you love it.

He walks backwards the whole way to your shared bedroom, power radiating from him in the way he carries himself, his dark eyes trained on you as you crawl for him. His mouth hangs open as he watches you, and you can tell he’s testing his own self control. You follow him over the threshold, watching him as the backs of his knees hit the mattress, dropping down onto the edge of your bed. He spreads his legs wide, leaning back as he tilts his head to the side while he contemplates his next move.

“Come,” he pats the mattress between his thighs, and you crawl forward to the edge of the bed, kneeling between his legs, looking up at him through your lashes. He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping your head back.

“As much as I’d love to have you falling apart around my cock in the next few minutes, I haven’t gotten a taste of you yet.”

“O-oh,” his words warm your center, the way he’s looking down at you only making you feel more desperate for his touch.

“Normally I’d make you earn it, but after listening to your slutty fucking moans all morning I don’t think I can wait any longer,” he wraps his hand around your throat again, squeezing firmly before guiding you up to your feet, standing along with you. He flicks at the shoulder of your cardigan with his free hand. “Off,” he demands. You shimmy out of it instantly, letting it drop to the floor and pool around your feet.

“Give me your color,” he whispers, his grip on your throat loosening.

“Still very green, my love,” you smirk at him as he nods, squeezing tighter again.

“So pretty with my hand around your neck,” he praises you, your head spinning as you work to inhale. “I can’t, fuck,” he lets his resolve crack, crashing his lips into yours.

He kisses you hard, fingers carding through your hair as he parts your lips with his tongue. “I’ll take my time with you later,” he mumbles against your mouth, swiping his tongue over yours. You kiss each other like you’ve been apart for weeks; desperate pawing, panting, whining.

“Lay down,” he orders you, groaning at the string of saliva connecting your mouths as he pulls away from you. He holds your waist as he spins the both of you around, putting you at the foot of the bed before pushing you onto the mattress. You catch yourself on your elbows, scooting back as he crawls on top of you, sloppily kissing you the whole way, moving together until you’re settled in the pillows against the headboard.

He kisses you from your lips, up to the hinge of your jaw, down the column of your neck. You lay back against the pillows, so familiar with the way he loves to map your body with his mouth. He spreads your legs with his knees, splaying you open wide for him, your bare cunt clenching around nothing at the sudden exposure.

He kisses down to your chest as his hands run up your thighs, bypassing your aching core to run up your stomach, one hand dipping beneath your tank top to palm your breast. You gasp at the sensation of his calloused hand kneading your supple flesh, a whine escaping as he runs a thumb over your nipple. He pulls your tank top up with his free hand, exposing your breasts to the cool air.

“Sangie,” you thread your fingers through his hair as he kisses down the valley between your breasts, tightening your grip when he catches one of your nipples between his teeth. “Fuck,” you whisper, looking down at him as he flicks his tongue over it. His eyes meet yours briefly before they roll back as he sucks your nipple into his mouth.

“Baby,” you whine, the feeling of his mouth on you making your head spin. “I need you,”

“Mhm,” his mouth pops off of you briefly before his teeth graze over the top of one of your breasts, the sensation dissolving into pleasurable pain as he bites down.

“Ah!” You yelp as his teeth scrape over your skin, panting as he soothes the bite with his tongue, sucking with the intention to leave a mark.

“You forgot your manners again, pretty girl,” he bites you again, on your stomach this time, and you glance down to see the first mark blooming with shades of red and purple as he paints another.

“Fuck, I—“ your voice catches in your throat at the third bite, lower on your stomach, inching closer to where you need him. ”Please Yeo, I need it,”

“Need what, hm? Use your words,” the next bite is harder than the last, and it has you squirming, desperately pushing your hips into him as his teeth dig into the inside of your thigh.

“Your mouth, please, please,” you rock your hips against nothing, your boyfriend keeping his distance to encourage more of your delicious whining.

“You sound so pretty when you beg, my little whore,” he spreads your legs wide, fingers splayed across the insides of your thighs. He watches your cunt clench at the word, smirking to himself before spitting directly on your heat.

“Oh,” you feel his warm saliva slide from your clit to your entrance, the sensation making you squirm underneath him. “Sangie, please,”

“Mhm,” he finally settles between your legs, threading his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to his waiting mouth.

He licks the blooming purple bite on your thigh, trailing wet kisses up, closer and closer, pressing one last kiss before finally spreading you open with his tongue. Your back arches instantly, leaning into his mouth. He licks you from your entrance up to your clit, groaning at the taste of you.

“Fuck,” you whine, gripping his hair, holding him against you. He laps at you, flicking the firm point of his tongue over your swollen clit over and over.

“Mmm,” he growls against you, the vibrations drawing a whimper up your throat. He eats you like a man starved, as he always does, digging his fingers into your hips and caging you in against his mouth.

“So good, Sangie, ah–” you yelp as his teeth scrape against your clit, a low chuckle vibrating through you at your reaction. He sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth, one hand loosening its grip on your hip to weave around to your throbbing entrance.

You feel two fingers inching up the inside of your thigh, the light touch prickling goosebumps across your skin. The moment you look down at him, he pops his mouth off of you, briefly sucking his fingers into his mouth, your arousal shining on his chin. His dark eyes don’t leave yours as he guides his fingers to your center, teasingly running them through your wetness before plunging them deep inside you.

“Ah!” You cry out at the sudden sensation, deep arousal coursing through your body as you watch your boyfriend rut against the mattress in time with the thrust of his fingers. He finds that tender spot inside of you easily, hitting it with each pump.

“So tight, are you sure you’ll be able to take me? Hm?” He scissors his fingers inside of you, the sound of how wet you are making his cock twitch in his sweatpants. “Gonna stretch you open so I can stuff you fucking full,” you whine at his words, his dirty mouth driving you mad. “My pretty little cocksleeve, made for me,”

“I can take you,” you nod, watching him add a third finger, the stretch stinging at first but quickly dissolving into pleasure. “I can, I can,” you repeat, “m-made for you Sangie, I was–” your words evaporate into thin air as he sucks your clit into his mouth again, rolling his tongue over and over.

You feel your orgasm quickly approaching, warmth rushing to your center. You roll your hips on his mouth, holding him against you, hoping he’ll let you get there. He must sense you trying to take control, slowing his fingers slightly. Feeling your orgasm fading away, you whine, struggling to push your hips harder onto his fingers. He chuckles against you before pulling away completely.

“Fuck!” You cry out in frustration, “what the fuck,”

“Watch your fucking mouth,” he scolds you, pushing up onto his knees between your legs, a dark patch spreading on his sweatpants where the head of his leaking cock presses against the fabric. “Trying to come without my permission, and you think you can speak to me like that?” You feel your cheeks reddening as you realize what you did, your eyes widening at the hard set of his jaw. He’s pissed. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, tilting his head to one side until his neck cracks.

“Flip over.”

You’re frozen, propped up on your elbows staring at him, mouth hanging open. “W-what? I–”

“Did I stutter? Flip the fuck over. Ass up. Now.”

You scramble to roll onto your stomach, pushing up onto your hands and knees. “I didn’t mean to, Yeo, I’m s-sorry,” your cunt is throbbing in anticipation as you spread your thighs wide, dropping onto your elbows just how you know he wants you.

“I’m sure you didn’t, greedy girl,” you hear shuffling behind you, feeling him getting closer to you, but not yet touching you. “How many, hm? Five?” You feel fingers ghosting across the middle of your back, trailing slowly down your spine. “Ten?” You shiver, knowing you can take ten but desperately wanting him inside of you sooner than that.

“You’re lucky my cock is fucking aching right now or I’d do fifteen,” he growls, “how about five, hm?” His hand glides over the swell of your ass, and you have to stop yourself from leaning into his touch.

“Five,” you confirm, settling into the pillows beneath you.

“Five it is.” His hand disappears and your breath hitches in your throat. “Count.” A crack rings through the room as he spanks you hard, the warmth of the sting rushing straight to your core.

“One,” you cry out, breath heaving.

“Good.” Another spank, a little harder than the last.

“Two,” your pussy clenches at the burn, and you can already feel the skin of your ass turning red.

He doesn’t warn you before spanking you a third time, but he lets his hand linger to soothe your angry skin for a moment.

“Three,”

Another.

“Four,” your voice cracks, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Color?” Your boyfriend asks from behind you, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Green, I can do it, one more,” your words rush out, wanting to let him know you’re okay.

“One more,” he confirms, bringing his hand down one last time, keeping it there to massage your sore skin.

“Five,” you sob into the pillow, finally leaning into his touch, letting him guide your hips down to the mattress.

“You did so well, pretty,” he leans over you, kissing you behind your ear as he brushes your hair to the side. “My good girl,”

“Please, baby, I want you,” each hard smack on your ass only made you more and more desperate for your boyfriend. You know he wants to take care of you, check in, make sure you’re okay, but you need him badly. You roll over onto your back, and he hovers over you, only softness and concern in his eyes now. You open your legs, pulling him between them, his hardness resting against your core through his sweatpants.

“I’m okay, please Sangie,” you reach for him, cupping his cheek in your palm, wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck, tugging him closer.

“Jagi,” he whispers, “are you sure?” He kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger a moment before pulling back to look at you.

“Mhm,” you nod, your hand trailing down to the hem of his tank top. He lets you pull it up slightly before helping you take it off completely. His skin glows under the sunlight streaming through your windows, casting gentle shadows to emphasize each one of his muscles. You pull your own top off over your head too, fully bare for him. You roll your hips against his clothed cock, drawing a groan up his throat.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he drinks you in, admiring your soft form. All dominance has faded from his mannerisms, loving and sheer want taking over.

“Kiss me,” you reach for him, and he meets you halfway to press his lips to yours. His need for you takes over, and he licks into your mouth as he rushes to pull his sweatpants and boxer briefs down. His length bumps against your heat, Yeosang hissing at the feeling, rocking against you as he kicks his pants off completely.

He breaks the kiss to kneel between your legs, fisting his angry, leaking cock. He pumps himself twice as he adjusts his positioning, running the tip of his cock through your arousal. “Ready?” He asks, nudging at your aching entrance.

You nod, reaching for him. He leans over you, letting out a shuddering breath as he pushes into you, filling you in one swift thrust. You moan at the feeling, the sound swallowed by his mouth against yours. He pulls out to the tip as he glides his tongue over your bottom lip, then slams into you.

“Shit,” you mumble against his lips, licking into his mouth. He meets your kisses hungrily, tangling his tongue with yours as he moves his hips, slowly at first, then pumping into you with a slow and steady rhythm.

You wrap your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back as he picks up the pace, hitting deeper with each thrust, but not quite deep enough.

“Harder, Yeo,” you break the kiss to ask, “need you deeper,”

He chuckles darkly, knowing just how to get the angle you need. He straightens, staying inside of you as he lifts your hips with ease, keeping you suspended in a solid grip as he guides your hips to meet his thrusts, instantly hitting your g-spot.

“Fuck, yes,” you cry out, letting him masterfully handle your body, bumping against that sensitive spot over and over.

“So pretty taking my cock,” he praises you, fucking into you impossibly hard, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. “I love you so fucking much, my good girl,”

“I love you,” you pant, getting closer and closer to the edge as he fucks into you, but you want to take care of him first. “W-wanna ride you, Sangie,” he slows down at your proposal.

“You sure?” He knows your body must be spent, but you’re determined.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you whine, “please?”

“I can’t say no to those eyes,” he grins.

He pulls out of you to roll you on top of him, easily maneuvering your body until you’re straddling him, his head nestled in the pillows. He lays back, eyes twinkling as he waits for you to take over.

You reach for his cock, wrapping your fingers around it, his eyes rolling back as you slowly pump him. “Mm,” he moans at the feeling, resting his hands on your thighs as you adjust to line him up with your entrance. His fingers dig into your thighs as you slowly lower yourself onto him, gasping as your clit grazes his skin once he’s fully seated inside of you.

“Fuck, jagiya,” he runs his hands up your thighs and around your hips to hold you still for a moment. “Be gentle with me, I don’t want this to be over too soon,” he chuckles.

“We have all day, baby,” you lift your hips slightly despite his firm grip on you, but he doesn’t stop you. You drop back down, drawing another beautiful moan from his lips. His grip loosens as he gives in to you, and you start bouncing your hips, his cock reaching deep inside you. You plant your hands in the middle of his chest as you find your rhythm.

He watches you with lidded eyes, his jaw hanging open as you take what you need. He reaches a hand up to palm your breast, your head falling back as he thumbs your nipple. It doesn’t take long for your climax to start building, his thumb on your nipple and your clit rocking against him bringing you right back to the precipice.

You know he’s close too, his breathing turning shallow and his grip tightening on your hips.

“Come here,” he wraps a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down to kiss him.

The new angle gives him space to plant his feet on the mattress and roll his hips up into you, matching your rhythm.

“Need to fill you up,” he pants,

“Yes, please,” you squeeze around him, feeling him twitch inside of you. Warmth spreads throughout your body as you inch closer and closer to release, each rock of your clit against him pushing you there.

“Come with me,” he commands you, your body tensing in his grasp as it washes over you. He fucks up into you twice more before he stills, spilling hot inside of you, groaning into your mouth. He lowers his hips slowly, guiding yours with him, staying inside of you, letting you collapse against his chest.

You both struggle to catch your breath, holding each other close while you come down. He strokes your hair, and you let your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, listening to the slowing beat of his heart.

“Wanna get more comfortable?” He asks, and you laugh, suddenly aware of how sore your hips are feeling, and the stinging lingering on your ass from your earlier punishments.

“Mhm,” you let him lift you off of him, guiding your pliant form onto your bed. He rolls you onto your belly, settling behind you to massage your hips. He rubs gentle circles into your skin, the soreness and tension in your tired muscles melting away under his skilled hands.

“I’ll be right back, my love,” he softly says as he hops up to wiggle back into his sweatpants, “I want to get something to clean you up, I’ll just be a minute.” He kisses your forehead before padding out of the room. You stretch your tired limbs, listening to the rustling and sounds of running water from down the hallway.

A moment later, Yeosang comes back into the room, his arms full of various things for you. He plugs in your heating pad, letting it warm up as he wipes his release from your inner thighs with a warm towel. You watch him as he bustles around the room, setting water and Tylenol on your nightstand and fluffing up your pillow for you. He grabs you a clean pair of underwear and one of your big sleep shirts, gently helping you dress, peppering you with kisses all the while.

You snuggle up facing his side of the bed, letting him cover you with a blanket and lay your heating pad over your lower back. He finally slides under the blanket with you, and you lay your head on his chest, throwing one leg over him, effectively caging him in. He chuckles at your clinginess.

“How’re you feeling?” He whispers, peppering kisses along your hairline.

“Perfect,” you nuzzle into him, and he rests his chin on top of your head.

“That wasn’t too much?”

“Of course not,” you assure him. “If it was, I would’ve told you to stop.”

He nods, accepting your response, wrapping an arm around your waist. You lay together in comfortable silence for a moment. You feel yourself starting to drift off, until his voice cuts through.

“Baby?” Yeosang says, a note of hesitance in his tone.

“Hm?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” He whispers, squeezing your waist.

“Of course,” you respond, rubbing a finger over a freckle on his chest.

“I dropped that pan on purpose.” You can hear the smile in his voice as he confesses to you.

“Kang Yeosang!” You scold him through your laughter, lightly smacking his chest. You prop yourself up to look at him, and he sheepishly smiles back at you.

“Sorry!” He apologizes half-heartedly, “I didn’t want you having all the fun without me.”

“Well next time,” you inch closer to him, “why don’t you wake me up with your mouth instead,” you brush your lips over his as his arm tightens around your waist.

”You don’t have to ask me twice,” he kicks the blanket off of you to roll you onto your back, crawling on top of you, swallowing your giddy giggles as he kisses you. He spreads your legs with his knees, dropping gentle kisses down your jawline. You quickly pull your heating pad out from under you and toss it on the floor.

“Quick,” he whispers, “pretend to be asleep.” You close your eyes as he slides down your body, settling between your legs once again, and you realize you’ll definitely be in bed for the rest of the day.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

hope u enjoyed (: xo

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yunwoositho · 9 days ago

Photo

yunho .:. deja vu jacket making film

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yunwoositho · 9 days ago

Text

together (j.yh)

prompt: Hey! Can you do a yunho imagine based on this tiktok? You can do wtv you want with it, it’s totally up to you!!

notes: i loved this prompt and the tiktok was so cute and perfect for a yunho imagine!! thank you for requesting it.

pairings: yunho x reader

genre/warnings: fluff, established!relationship, post tour missing each other vibes

word count: 2.5K

a/n: this fic can be read as a standalone one-shot or as a companion piece to my fic losing time

fic masterlist || request a fic or reaction

Yunho had been home from tour for four days and still hadn’t been able to come to you. The boys were double, and triple scheduled, the unfortunate side effects of having to move tour dates entirely, and although you knew he was safely back in Korea because he kept in touch via text, there wasn’t a free moment to get away and actually see each other.

It’s painful, you had been watching the countdown on your phone for days and now being four days past the deadline and still not with him makes your chest ache. You want him with you, you have news to share with him that you don’t want to tell him over text, and you are itching to see him.

Yunho’s managers were pretty lenient with the boys dating as long as it was kept discreet and as long as the boys always acted carefully and respectfully; that meant no clubs, no bars, and no public displays of affection – but they understood dating and young love. Ultimately it was far better for them to have a partner to lean on or even just relieve stress than it was for them to bottle up and let work consume them, but that certainly didn’t mean it was easy for them to date or easy for them to get away from their schedules.

You look down at your phone again as you sit on the couch letting a drama play that you really aren’t paying close attention to. You look over your last text exchange with Yunho and frown, the last message was from seven that morning. You’re used to him being spotty responding, and you don’t typically wait by the phone for his calls or texts, but after over a month of not seeing him you are anxious. You have a busy life yourself, work especially getting busier and busier as the weeks go on. That itself is a welcome distraction, but you had taken a few days off work this week to be sure you were available when he came home, and now it leaves you stuck in your apartment with little to do but wait.

You sigh and refocus your attention on the drama, trying to immerse yourself in whatever the main characters were bickering about, but it does nothing to help the thoughts in the back of your mind.

Tapping your phone screen again to light it back up, you suddenly see the bubbles of a Yunho typing a message and your breath leaves you. Finally. You wait as patiently as you can while the message bubble continues, disappears, and then reappears before his text finally delivers.

If I send a car for you, can you come to the studio? I know it’s late

You’ve never replied yes to anything faster in your life, and within a moment he’s sending you the details. One of his managers will pick you up from behind your building in twenty minutes and bring you back to the KQ dance studio. You’re up and getting ready in a flash, the drama forgotten immediately even though it continues to play in the background. All you manage is a light refresh of your makeup and running a brush through your hair, settling to stay in your oversized t-shirt and leggings.

In the car on the way to the studio, butterflies fill your stomach. You’re so anxious to see him, especially after only getting snippets of him for the last month from social media or his own texts. You’ve been to the studio plenty of times before, one of the few places that was truly safe from prying eyes and felt comfortable thanks to the other members and the team at KQ. They were so much like a family it was startling, and they had embraced you as part of them once they saw you both together.

In the elevator up you can barely breathe, and once it drags to a stop at the right floor, you know the doors will open and he’s sure to be there with the rest of the members. The first thing you see though when the doors open isn’t Yunho, but Hongjoong at the computer in the corner of the practice room with headphones on, the rest of the room fairly quiet.

“Oh,” you step out into the practice room and wave, “Hi, Hongjoong.”

He gives you a wide smile and drops his headphones before crossing the room and pulling you into a quick hug, “Hey, y/n, how are you?”

“I’m good,” you say, but you glance around the empty practice room, “Yunho asked me to come over,”

“Ah,” Hongjoong nods and waves you in so you can take a seat on the couch in the corner, “he’ll be back soon, he’s with some of the other members, they had to chat with the manager for a few minutes about tomorrow’s schedule.”

Your heart sinks at the idea that tomorrow they are scheduled too. “You’re very busy for just getting back from tour,”

He sighs and nods, “I know, the time adjustment hasn’t been easy, but things relax this weekend and I hear we might get some scheduled time off.”

“That’s good,” you grin, and he gives you a knowing smile.

He turns back to his computer, but says, “just make yourself comfortable, I’m sure Yunho will be done soon, and I know he’s anxious to see you.”

It takes twenty minutes before you see him, you’ve just been endlessly scrolling and refreshing Instagram to distract you from the waiting, you and Hongjoong occasionally exchanging words but you know he’s exhausted and still working, so you try to let him be. At the sound of footsteps at the far end of the room your head snaps up, most of the other members are back except for Wooyoung and Jongho, and though they all greet you excitedly, you can’t tear your eyes away from Yunho.

You can see the expression on his face relax and watch the tension in his shoulders drop, his hand coming to rest on his chest, “Hey,” he manages and you’re on your feet, jogging towards him.

He catches you as you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his middle and burying your face in his chest. His arms wrap tightly around you too, his lips coming to rest on the top of your head, and you feel his warm exhale of relieved breath against you.

“They’re too cute,” San comments.

“Finally, Yunho’s been crawling up the wall for days and driving us all nuts,” Yeosang teases and Yunho chuckles against you.

“I don’t care,” Yunho says finally, “she’s hard not to miss.”

You smile against his chest before pulling back to look up at him, “Hey,”

He cups your face gently and smiles, “Hey, pretty.” The pet name makes your stomach flip flop, it’s been too long since you’ve heard that from his lips and you didn’t realize just how much you missed it.

“I missed you,” you tell him, your hands relaxing their grip on the back of his t-shirt.

“Me too,” he leans in to press a kiss against your forehead, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get away sooner.”

You shake your head, “I get it,”

His disappointment hangs between you, and you know he feels guilty, but you won’t let him. Taking a step back you meet his gaze again, “You’re doing okay? Healthy?”

“Mm,” he nods, “I’m completely fine, y/n.”

“Are you at least getting sleep?” you squeeze his hand in yours, “your schedule is so crazy right now.”

“I know,” he sighs, “but I am, I’m okay. I promise.”

You let out a sigh and nod, “Good. I’ve been worried,”

“I knew you would be,” he shakes his head, a smile still on his lips. A beat passes and he glances up to see that the rest of the guys are now collapsed against the couch in the far corner or spread out across the practice room floor. They’re arguing about what to order for dinner and what places were still open for delivery so late in the evening. He looks back down at you, “How are you though? You never tell me what’s going on when I’m away, everything okay?”

His question makes you suddenly nervous and you drop your hands away. He was right, you never did tell him things when he was on tour. You didn’t want to make it harder for him to be away or to feel like he wasn’t there for you, so you’d wait to catch him up when he got home, only this time you had actual news to share.

“Yeah,” you respond quickly, smoothing your hands down the front of your t-shirt and swallowing nervously.

“Hey,” he crouches a little to try and catch your eyes again, “what’s going on? Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you tell him, straightening up to meet his gaze and taking a deep breath, “I just have some news.”

“News,” he repeats, his eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, news.” You’re finding it hard to meet his gaze again since you can see how suddenly concerned he is. You know what you want to tell him is good news, but it’s also big news, and something you had been keeping quiet from him for the whole tour. The idea of his reaction, or not knowing his reaction made your stomach flutter with nerves.

“Okay,” he says slowly, “whatever it is, we’ll handle it together, like we always do.”

That’s Yunho. Sometimes when he’s away you forget that he’s also the most understanding and caring partner you’ve ever had, and there’s really no reason to be nervous in the first place. You sigh, relieved, and meet his eyes again so you can tell him, “My job isn’t a contracted position anymore,” you say, and confusion crosses his features, but you continue, “they’ve offered me a permanent position and I’m staying. In Seoul.”

His face blanks, and then he smiles, immediately reaching for you. He’s much taller, and he has to lean over you, one hand wrapping smoothly around your lower back. You reach up and around his neck, tucking your face down on his shoulder, and when you feel him start to lean back up you jump up slightly, wrapping your legs around his waist. His free hand slips under your thigh to hold you against him, and he squeezes you to him tightly.

His lips come to yours, his kiss warm and slow, and any nerves you had about telling him are distant feelings of the past. He smiles against your mouth, a laugh on his lips, and he leans his forehead against yours, “Oh my God,” he sighs.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, leaning back to see the expression of pure relief across his face.

“I thought,” he squeezes you a little tighter, “I thought you were going to say you were pregnant.”

“Oh,” your eyes widen, and you can see how he would have made that jump, “No, oh, I’m sorry I scared you, it’s not that it’s just work.”

He kisses you again, “Not that I wouldn’t love that news someday,” he clarifies through the kiss.

You hum against his mouth, “Someday far in the future,”

“Mhm,” he agrees, dropping a few more quick kisses against your lips before adjusting your position more solidly against him and tucking his head into your shoulder, his lips against the smallest sliver of exposed skin from the hem of your shirt, “why were you so nervous to tell me that? It’s good news,”

“I know,” you nod against him, “but it means I’m here more permanently, we don’t… have an end date anymore. I get to stay, and I know it’s a big step. I didn’t know if you’d,”

He shifts you to drop you back to your feet and leans back to look at you, a serious look on his face, “There was never an end date for me, whether you were in Seoul or not.”

His words make you melt, and your hands reach to take his, “Okay,”

“Okay?” he asks, squeezing your hands, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yunho,” you can’t help but smile up at him, “I love you.”

His creased brow clears, and you watch as he finally lets it sink in that you’re not going anywhere. He laughs, grinning, “Oh my God,” he backs up a couple of steps, his back connecting with the mirrored wall of the practice room, “Oh my God, you’re seriously here for good?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, and he rushes you again, yanking you up into another hug and spinning you, his sudden infectious energy bubbling over, and you both just can’t stop laughing.

“Is someone going to tell us what’s going on?” Seonghwa’s voice breaks through from the other side of the room.

Yunho drops you back to your feet and turns to the members, “Tell them,” he nudges you excitedly.

You look over the group, their anticipation obvious, “My job contract was supposed to be over at the end of July.”

“Supposed to be?” Hongjoong asks.

“I’ve been hired full time,” you can’t stop grinning and Yunho shakes your shoulders, “I’ll be staying in Seoul permanently.”

It’s an immediate celebration – the members knowing exactly how much this had been weighing on Yunho and how much you both wanted to make it work. Mingi puts you in a crushing hug, and there are congratulations all around. When things eventually settle, Yunho wraps himself around you again from behind, dropping his chin against the top of your head. You order food with the boys, and they regale you with stories of the tour and the fansigns, telling you everything they did in the cities they visited.

After dinner, Yunho pulls you back between his legs as you lounge on the practice room floor, embracing you for a little longer before the night has to end. You know they’re tightly scheduled still, and the time you got with him tonight was all you might be able to get for a while, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

“I’m so happy,” he confesses against you, “I’m so glad you get to stay. I’m so glad to be home,”

You lean back against his chest, and he presses a soft kiss to your temple. Now with no end date of July, you can breathe easier, “Me too,” you murmur, “me too.”

(read the alternate ending where reader is pregnant here!)

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