cecy

You should’ve known something was not right about that NDA you had signed, but you could’ve not imagine, or even predict that kind of situation you found yourself in, even if you tried. And nobody could ever believe you either.

Everything started when you went to your favorite k-pop boygroup’s concert in your city, you had waited so much to see them, so of course, you had to dress up in their vibes like pretty much everyone, to make things right. You had gone with a sexy outfit based on one of the group’s song, BOUNCY.

It consisted of a corseted laced up (on the front) black leather top who showed a bit of your tits at the middle, black leather elephant bell bottoms, with big silver stars engraved in it, who were separated in two parts, both connected by two garters on each leg (back and front), showing half of your thighs, black heeled boots, and a short cropped black and white cream leather cowboy jacket with fringes on the sleeves. All of this accessorized with a pretty fringed cowgirl hat, some gold necklaces and a few rings, you were truly one of the hottest girlies out there.

You waited in front of the venue with other atinys, chatting, before getting your vip pack, and getting barricade after entering even though you didn’t had the send off, you were lucky. You had the best view, and of course, you still put your cowboy hat in your back so you wouldn’t annoy people behind you. The soundcheck went good, they were so gorgeous, and all of the group glanced at you, some of them smirking even, and you went wild, blushing so hard. It was not surprising though after all, you were gorgeous too, how they couldn’t appreciate the view in front of them? But then, the show began just a bit more than an hour after, and you swore something was up with them, because most of them couldn’t stop to look at you. You felt special but also you felt something else, because at some moments, when looking at you, they had a hungry darker gaze like they wanted to devour you. No, it couldn’t, you were just hallucinating, right? As much as the unknown murmurs in your head, you thought it was you just being tired, due to adrenaline.

The show ended, and just when you needed to get outside, a staff came to you and asked you to follow them while everyone was too busy to notice it, getting in another part of the venue to wait for the send off or getting home while fangirling on the photos and videos they had took during the concert. Your heart jumped, because you thought you had did something wrong, but then, when the staff got you into a separate room with two other staff people of Ateez’s crew, a written paper and a pen on the table, you realized the situation. Sitting in front of the paper, your realization was confirmed, it was an NDA or Non-Disclosure Agreement, meaning one of the members (or maybe a few others?) wanted to do something with you. So of course, you still read it because you always did that before signing, asking a few details at the staff who didn’t told you that much. It was still precised on the paper that it was sexual related, so you signed because what could go wrong ? You always had talked about this situation with your atiny friends, telling them you would probably get the chance if it was offered to you, so yes, you did took it.

After signing the NDA, they accompagnied you to a car that drove you to their hotel, and there, an informed staff took charge of you, making you wait in one of the big private suite. You were so nervous, but you still got a bit comfortable at most, still keeping your outfit. The only things you had put on the side was your boots, your bag, your hat, your jacket and your jewelry, wanting to relieve you from it. You sat on the bed, for a while, trying to get relaxed when you heard the door open, and you stood quickly in anticipation, your heart beating so fast. Suddenly, the air felt heavier and you saw them. Not one or two members, but the whole group. For a few seconds, your dumb tired brain thought it was a misunderstanding but then, it wasn’t, because they all looked at you like you were a prey and they were predators. They looked absolutely hungry and very sexy but also different in their vibes for some reason, and you? You were hot and bothered, just with their gaze.

Hongjoong, as a good leader, spoke to you first, “oh hello there, beautiful”, in a deep suave tone. The only thing you could answer was a shy “h-hi” and some of them chuckled lowly, a shiver running through your spine. Seonghwa approached you, licked his lips and looked between your eyes and lips, a hungry gaze that left you breathless. “You know what’s about to happen, don’t you, sweetheart?”, he asked you and you nodded. He grinned and you felt a chest behind you. You heard San’s deep voice in your ear, making your breath hitch, “you wanted to be ruined, hm?”, he murmured as you felt his hands on your hips. You looked at Seonghwa and he took your chin between his fingers. “Tell us what you want, bunny”, he said to you, like a command. You had to gather all of your courage and try to ignore San’s warm presence against you to answer him. “I want you, please, all of you”, you pleaded, it came almost between a whine and a whimper. “Good girl”, Seonghwa said and you heard a deep chuckle coming from besides you. You looked and saw Hongjoong smirking. Also, was it you or his eyes were fully black, like two bottomless voids? “It’s going to be very fun”, his voice sounded different too and you felt your heart missing beats. A hand was on your head, pushing you in your knees and you looked up at the man. Yunho. His own eyes were also bottomless black pits. He grinned, “look at you, so pretty on your knees”, and you swallowed back a moan trying to escape. They all came in front of you and when you looked at them, you saw it, and your heart jumped, not in fear, but in surprise and mostly in excitation.

All of their eyes were fully black, no apparent white pupils, looking like they crawled out of your nightmarish dreams, their “smiles” were evil a bit like the Joker, and fuck, they were so tempting, like succubus. Unreal beings. Evil ones. And you realized.

“You all are…. demons”, you admitted more to yourself than to them. They all chuckled evily.

“Touché”, Jongho said

“You’re great at guessing, good job”, Mingi spoke, his deep voice running through your mind

Wooyoung approched you and crouched to your level, “are you afraid?”, he asked as he slightly tilted his head, “are you going to run away from us, now?”, he added.

You shook your head, as a breath escaped you when you answered.

“N-no, i’m not, i promise i’ll stay”, you said quickly

Wooyoung smiled, and kissed your cheek, murmuring in your ear, “Faithful AND desperate for us, i love it. Keep it up, darling”, then he stood up and got to the others again.

“So, who wants to test her first?”, Hongjoong asked to his members and you saw Mingi take steps towards you, “Me”, he said. You looked up at him, he was looking down at you with a dark gaze as he took off his belt and pants, you bit your lip in anticipation. “Give me your hand”, he commanded and you listened. He took your hand and put it on his big bulge, and the gods help you, he felt and looked big. “You see what you do to me, baby?”, he asked, and you breathed “Yes”. He deeply groaned when you ran your hand on his clothed dick, twitching in his boxers. He then undressed fully, getting bare in front of you, his long fat cock slapping against his abdomen, he took it in his hand and slowly stroked it, looking at you and licking his lips. “Open wide”, he ordered and you did, getting your tongue out. “Fuck, such a good slut for me to use, are you going to let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours, yeah?”, he asked and you moaned softly, nodding. He slapped his cock on your tongue before entering your mouth, the weight of it making you moan again, and he groaned again. “Shit, you feel amazing, baby”, he moaned deeply, before thrusting into your wet warm hole, at his pace. Your pussy clenched around nothing. He fucked your mouth and since he was big, he hit your throat and moaned loudly when you were gagging around him, throwing his head back. He continued like that, you were already tearing up, drooling around his length, your spit getting onto the carpet underneath you. He let out a few curses before pulling out, jerking himself off, “let your mouth open like that, princess”, and after a few more strokes, he came on your tongue, moaning so deep you swore you felt the vibrations through you, you also moaned, tasting him. “Now, swallow and show me”, you closed your mouth, swallowed and opened your mouth again. He grinned, panting a bit, “Atta girl”. You moaned in response.

“My turn now”, you heard Seonghwa and he was already naked like the rest of them, their gorgeous honey skin glowing in the dimmed lights of the suite, slowly jerking themselves off, and you noticed a tail behind each of them, dark red and spiky at the end of it. Mingi let Seonghwa come in front of you with his long dick, smirking, knowing that you had stared at their special body feature, the flat spike of his tail coming under your shin and lifting it to make you look at his face. “Are you ready to take another in your slutty mouth?”, he asked, his voice sultry and deep, your pussy clenched again and you were pretty sure your panties and pants crotch were ruined by then. You nodded, and he ran his thumb on your bottom lip, opening your mouth and putting it on your tongue, making you slightly suck it. “So obedient for us, bunny”, he purred and he took off his thumb out of your mouth, to replace it with his cock, already starting to fuck your throat, your drool falling on your top, he moaned. While Seonghwa was busy with your mouth , you felt a tail wrap around one of your wrists and putting it on another dick, you looked at the better you could and you saw Yunho. You began to stroke him, and you heard him groan. Soon, Seonghwa came into your mouth, and you swallowed again, gasping for air when he pulled out. Yeosang came in front of you, jerking himself at the same time, “are you going to let us come into your face, angel?”, he asked with his deep voice, grunting and hissing. Your throat a bit sore, you answered a “yes” loud enough to make them hear. “That’s it, pup, let that tongue out, show us you want to taste us”, Yunho rasped. You felt a tail wrap slightly around your throat and a hand grab your jaw. You looked back up and saw San’s face upside down, the back of your head touching his heavy balls, he smirked. Yunho and Yeosang soon came hard on your face, painting it in white ropes.

“Such a good slut for us, aren’t you, baby?”, San purred. “Only for you”, it escaped your mouth, and you heard San curse under his breath. He didn’t even let you breathe, he manhandled you making you stand again on weak legs with his tail still around your throat, he let it go and then held you in air with both of his arms on your hips and threw you on the bed, making you yelp in surprise. You bounced back a bit on the soft mattress, you were on your back and he came directly between your legs, opening them with his knees. Then, he leaned into you, placing open-mouthed kisses on your neck, making you arch off the bed and softly gasp. You felt one of his hand cupping your clothed pussy and you whimpered. “Bloody hell, you have no idea what i’m going to do to you”, he said, licking your jaw with his tongue and you gasped loudly when he suddenly ripped your top to shreds, exposing your bare tits to the whole group’s view. He, then took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it, and making you wail, one of your hands in his short black hair. One of his free hands fondling your other breast deliciously. “San, please…”, you whined. He released both of your breasts and placed wet kisses down your sternum to below your belly button, and then looked up at you, hungry gaze. “Please what, baby?, he murmured against your skin. “More, please”, you begged but he slapped your clothed thigh and you squeaked. “Use your words correctly, slut”, he ordered. You gasped silently and breathed “I need you to eat me, please, need your mouth on my pussy”, and he smirked. “Yeah? Need me to devour your sweet cunt, hm?”, he cooed and you nodded. He was pleased humming lowly and soon, you were fully bare, your slick folds in front of San’s face, he put your legs on his broad shoulders, “look at that, you’re so fucking soaked, and we barely touched you, princess”, he said before taking a slow fat stripe up your pussy and making you moan his name. He groaned “you taste so sweet”, and started to eat you up like a feral man, his lustful deep black eyes looked up at you, his hands gripping your thighs like you would disappear if he didn’t held you hard enough. You were sure that you would have bruises by tomorrow morning but you didn’t care that much when one of your favorite boy idol was literally devouring your pussy right now, your orgasm came fast and you creamed on his face, crying his name in pleasure, your hands gripping his hair again, riding your orgasm out on him. When he came up to look at you, he was covered in your juices and he licked his lips, “i’m not finished with you”, he said to you as he put you on all fours, your head at the end of the bed, and you saw Wooyoung stand in front of your face, while San ran his angry length through your slick folds. He smirked, “is your throat ready for me, darling?”, you rasped a “yes” before opening your mouth by yourself, your eyes glassy looking up at him. His dick twitched, “good girl”, he purred and then he put himself into your mouth, just as San entering your cunt in one go, making you cry around Wooyoung’s cock and pushing him in your throat.

They both fucked you at the same time, in different holes, you felt full but they paused and Jongho came under you on his back, chest to chest, as San fucked up into you again and he entered you also, stretching you fully. You screamed around Wooyoung as he fucked your throat. You heard him talk, “Fucking hell, you truly are such a filthy whore for us, taking three cocks at the same time, do you like it?”, he groaned. You nodded, your mascara running on your cheeks and your spit falling on the mattress below you. He came soon on your face, and you heard a deep chuckle besides him, too fucked up to look at the man yet but you knew it was Hongjoong because he was the only one that hadn’t used you yet. You continued to cry in pleasure at Jongho’s and San’s cocks were busy bullying your puffy cunt. You tried to put your face into Jongho’s neck as he licked your bouncing tits but Hongjoong took your hair and tilted your head up to make you look at him. He had the most diabolical smirk you could ever imagine on him, truly a demon, without a doubt. “Look at her, hyung, she’s so fucked up right now”, Wooyoung laughed lowly and Hongjoong responded to him, always looking at you, “Can’t even think straight with the amount of dick she had tonight”, then he adressed you “aren’t you, pretty doll?”. You cried as you came around San and Jongho, making them cum into you, they rode your orgasms, then pulled out, their cum leaking out of you as your pussy clenched around nothing from pleasure.

“Are you still going to be obedient and take me fully like the good girl you are?”, Hongjoong asked to you. You answered a very breathy yes, as Jongho and San stood again. He came into the bed, behind you, ran his cock through your folds, slammed into you and you cried out. He pulled you back against his chest and took both of your arms between the two of you as he began to fuck your abused pussy. You heard his breathy moans, clenching around him, he groaned lowly in your ear “cunt’s feels like heaven, fuck…”. He thrusted into you and you cried out his name. You saw the other members jerk themselves off again, in front of both of you, the view making you come instantly on Hongjoong’s cock. He hissed, “fucking cunt taking me perfectly, i’m going to fill you up so good”, and you moaned loudly, your voice rough from use. He laughed and turning you up so you were on your back, he then leaned in and put you in a mating press, you felt him deep into your guts. You gripped his back, running your nails deeply as he continued to bully his cock around your walls, hitting your good spot again and again. “Hongjoong, ah- need to pee so bad!”, you screamed and he chuckled, “hm, gonna cum hard for me, doll?”. “Y-yes, yes please”, you pleaded. “Then let it go for your Captain, pretty”. He circled your clit at a perfect pace, and then your orgasm hit so hard you saw white for a few seconds. Your mouth opening but no sounds coming out, like your breath got taken out of your lungs, your walls violently gripping Hongjoong’s dick. You squirted so much, it drenched the sheets beneath you both, he came hard into you after that, riding his own orgasm as he moaned into your neck, pressing soft kisses onto your skin. “That’s my good girl right there”, he murmured into your ear.

You barely registered your surroundings as you fell asleep due to pure exhaustion, but when you woke up, you were cleaned up at most, still naked but under fresh covers that weren’t covered in body fluids, the sun caressed gently your skin through the windows. You felt sore in all ways possible, and you took moments to wake up gently, remembering last night bits by bits. You had been ruined by Ateez and honestly? You were glad you had taken the chance, because it had been the best sex you had in a while, even if you needed to go slower to physically function for at least a week. You turned your head towards the low bed table noticing a jug of water with a full glass of water beside it, some painkillers, and a note. You sat back against the headrest of the bed, sighing because of the soreness of your body. You were alone in the room, the scent of cologne of the boys always slightly present in the empty space. You took the note and opened it.

"If you read this, we are already gone to our next schedule. Thank you for fully trusting us, doll. We had an amazing time last night and we know you also did. You passed out on us, and we took the liberty to take care of you after, so you could feel alright when waking up, nothing crazy, be reassured. We are demons, not monsters. Also, we put new clothes for you to wear in the bathroom, since San destroyed your top (very not sorry for that). Hope to see you again, Y/N. - Your Ateez.

p.s : phone the reception and ask for ‘darling’s breakfast’, they’ll understand what to do. And maybe next time, you could show us how you can make it bouncy, pretty cowgirl ;)"

You gasped softly at the mention of your name in the letter but you remembered you had given your name on the NDA and they were mystical beings, so of course, they knew your name.

You were in a bathrobe, and asked at the reception for the mysterious darling’s breakfast, it came 15 minutes after to your door, and you saw a full plate of fresh food of all sort. Fruits, eggs, toast, butter, and everything good for you to take back most of your lost calories. As you ate at the table in front of the big windows, looking at the gorgeous view, you asked yourself when you could see them again, and if you were the only one that they put in their bed by now, or if you were just part of a long list of atiny before and after you.

But after all, you didn’t really cared because at least, you had sex with them, and better, you knew now they were demons. So if you had to do it again? You would.

For their part? They also couldn’t wait for ruin their favorite human again, because it’s all they did, it was part of their job and needs. At the end of the day, who could refuse them?

The dim light of the bedroom cast long shadows across the room, illuminating the quiet aftermath of their passion. You were curled against Seonghwa’s chest, your head nestled in the crook of his neck, the rhythmic beat of his heart a comforting lullaby. His fingers, long and elegant, were tracing lazy circles on your back, a soothing, hypnotic touch. You shifted, a soft sigh escaping your lips. The events of the night, a heady mix of raw desire and tender adoration, were a beautiful, chaotic blur in your memory. His patience, his fierce protectiveness, the way he had listened to your every whispered plea and acted on it with a devastatingly gentle precision... It all felt so safe, so all-consuming.

“Seonghwa,” you murmured, your voice thick with exhaustion and lingering pleasure. He hummed in response, his touch never faltering.

You lifted your head, your gaze meeting his in the soft, ambient light. His eyes, usually so sharp and commanding, were soft and full of a profound tenderness. You felt a wave of adoration swell within you, a deep, primal sense of security. The word formed on your lips, a natural conclusion to the way he made you feel.

“Mommy,” you whispered, the word a soft prayer.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, a slight widening of his eyes before they crinkled at the corners. He didn’t pull away, didn’t react with shock or confusion. Instead, a slow, gentle smile spread across his lips, and he tightened his arms around you, pulling you even closer until you were pressed entirely against his body.

“What did you just call me, angel?” he murmured, his voice a low, melodic rumble.

“Mommy,” you repeated, your voice a little more confident this time. “You took care of me. You made me feel so... Safe.”

He buried his face in your hair, a soft laugh escaping his lips.“"Is that so? Am I your mommy now?” he teased, but there was a deep, resonating pleasure in his tone. He shifted, his body now covering yours, and you felt the undeniable evidence of his renewed desire. “Mommy can be a very bad girl, you know?” he whispered, his voice a low, teasing growl. “And she can punish you.”

You gasped, a thrill of fear and anticipation shooting through you. You didn’t respond with words, just a soft whimper. He took that as his cue.

He leaned in, his lips just grazing your ear. “Now, little one,” he murmured, his voice laced with a possessive command, "what do you want your mommy to do with you?”

“Anything mommy pleases.”

A low hum rumbled in his chest, a sound of deep satisfaction that resonated through your body. “Anything I please?” he repeated, his voice a husky murmur against your skin. “Such a good little one.”

He shifted, his hands tracing a path of fire from your hips, up your ribs, and over your breasts. His touch was a perfect blend of command and tenderness, a silent promise of the pleasure to come. “Mommy has so many ideas for you,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. “But let’s start with a little reminder of just how good you are.”

His fingers found their mark, a teasing touch that sent a shiver through you, a gasp of pure anticipation escaping your lips. You were no longer just a lover; you were his to guide, his to cherish, his to own in the soft, dark sanctuary of the bedroom. The night was no longer about passion, but about devotion. And you, in his arms, were the willing, happy recipient of his every desire. His touch, once teasing, turned into a reverent caress. He slid his hands to your hips, guiding you to straddle his lap. You settled onto him, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you felt his hardness against your core. The position was one of power, of your dominance, and he met it with an act of pure submission. He leaned forward, his mouth finding your breast. His lips were a hot brand against your skin as he took you in, a soft, worshipful sound rumbling in his throat. His tongue teased your nipple, and a jolt of pleasure shot through you, a fire that spread from your chest to the tips of your toes. You closed your eyes, your head falling back, a soft moan escaping your lips. You were not in control; he was. He was the one worshipping you. He knew every part of your body, every curve, every hollow, and he worshipped it all with a tender, all-consuming devotion.

His hands, once everywhere, now moved with a deliberate, singular purpose. One hand cupped your breast, supporting it for his mouth, while the other slid down your back, pulling you closer, pressing your hips against his. He was not just taking; he was giving, his every touch, every kiss, a testament to his adoration for you. Slowly, tenderly, he laid you on your back on the bed, never once breaking contact. He continued his worship, his mouth moving from your breast to your stomach, his tongue tracing a path of fire down your body. You were a symphony of sensation, your body a canvas of pleasure, and he, the master artist, was painting you with his touch. He knelt between your legs, his body a warm weight against your thighs. He didn't rush, but took his time, his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded with desire, gazing up at you. It was in that moment, in the soft, intimate space between your legs, that he spoke.

“You like this, little one?” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. “Tell me. Tell your mommy how you feel.”

The question was a gentle command, a request for you to surrender your thoughts as completely as you had surrendered your body. His fingers, still tracing delicate patterns on your inner thighs, were a physical reminder of the heat he was building within you. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, a phantom touch that made you tremble in anticipation.

“I... I can’t think,” you managed to stutter, your voice thick with building pleasure. “You’re... too much.”

A small, satisfied smile touched his lips. “Too much is never enough, baby,” he purred, the term of endearment slipping from his mouth with a natural ease. “Mommy is just getting started.”

He leaned down, his mouth finally connecting with your most sensitive skin. The first touch was a wave of pure sensation, a shock of bliss that made your body convulse. You gasped, your fingers digging into the plush bedding, your back arching off the bed in a silent plea for more. He obeyed, his tongue and lips a perfect symphony of worship, his body a warm shield against the world. He moved slowly, deliberately, a master conductor of your body’s orchestra. Every lick, every suckle, every gentle nip was a prayer whispered against your skin, a silent conversation between him and the most intimate part of you. He moved up and down, a rhythmic cadence that mirrored a love song, a silent promise of his devotion.

“You’re so good, baby,” he whispered against your skin, his words a soft, sensual hum. “So perfect. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, a single, guttural sound of pure surrender. “Yes, Mommy. I’m all yours.”

The climax, when it came, was not a violent storm, but a quiet, powerful earthquake. You shattered, your body trembling, a long, drawn-out moan escaping your lips. He didn’t stop, his movements intensifying, as if to absorb every last tremor, every last gasp of your release. He held you there, even as the tremors subsided, his face buried between your legs, a testament to his adoration. The quiet hum of the room was punctuated by your ragged gasps. Your body was still trembling from the aftershocks of the climax, every nerve ending alive and screaming for more. You weren’t coherent; you were just a ball of pure, raw need. Your hands reached for him, fumbling, begging for him to continue the exquisite torment.

“Please... mommy,” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper. “Please... I need you to…”

You couldn’t finish the sentence, your body’s pleas taking over. Your hips lifted off the bed in a silent request, a desperate plea for his touch to return. Seonghwa leaned up, his eyes meeting yours, a soft, fond amusement playing on his lips. There was no mockery in his expression, only a profound satisfaction at seeing you so utterly dependent on him. He gently laid a hand on your hip, his touch a steadying force against your trembling.

“Alright, alright,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing purr. “Easy there, angel.”

He shifted, rising to a sitting position between your legs. He looked at you, a possessive fire in his eyes that was softened by a deep tenderness.

“You don’t even have to ask, baby,” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your inner thigh. “Mommy will do it for you. Just... relax for me, will you?”

He moved with a renewed, unhurried purpose, his mouth finding its place once more. You were lost in the intoxicating rhythm he created, your previous frantic pleas now melting into soft sighs and gasps. He was right; all you had to do was relax and let Mommy take care of you. You arched off the bed, a soft whimper of desperation escaping your lips as you reached for him. Your hands were a pleading extension of your body, begging him for more, for the one thing you desperately craved.

“No... No, not,” you whined, your voice thick with need. “Please, mommy. I need you... please mommy, need you inside me—”

He pulled back just slightly, a soft, teasing smirk on his face. He wasn’t ignoring you; he was savoring your desperation, drawing it out. “Are you in a rush, angel?” he murmured, his voice a low, knowing purr.

You shook your head frantically, the rational part of your brain momentarily overriding the pure need. “No, sorry.”

His brow furrowed, his expression shifting from playful amusement to a focused intensity. He stared at you, his eyes questioning. “What?”

You instantly understood your mistake. In your frantic state, you have slipped back into the polite, submissive habits of your everyday life. You weren’t a boss at this moment; you were his.

“I-I am sorry,” you whispered, your voice small, corrected.

He waited, his expression unchanging, a silent command in his gaze. You swallowed hard, the correct words forming in your mind, a surrender of your will to him.

“I’m sorry, mommy.”

The line of his mouth softened into a triumphant smile. The tension in his shoulders relaxed. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “That’s my good girl.”

And with those words, the game was over. He slid forward, positioning himself between your legs. The first touch of him filling you was a sigh of relief, a guttural groan of pure, unadulterated pleasure. You finally had what you begged for. He moved slowly at first, his eyes locked on yours, watching as your expression shifted from pure want to utter bliss. Each thrust was deliberate, a promise delivered, a need fulfilled. His pace grew, the rhythm becoming a fervent dance of possession and surrender. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in as close as humanly possible, trying to become one with him. He filled you completely, and the world dissolved into a symphony of your moans and his ragged breaths. He was in complete control, and you were happily at his mercy, every thrust, every movement, a perfect testament to your unspoken devotion to your mommy.

The air in the room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, and the only sound was the rhythmic slap of skin against skin and your ragged breathing. You were completely consumed by the feeling of him inside you, a deep, powerful fullness that erased everything but sensation. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he began to speak, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that sent a shiver through your entire body.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his thrusts a steady, insistent rhythm. “You like the idea of calling your husband mommy. You’re such a dirty girl. Shouldn’t I be calling you that, hm? Couldn’t contain yourself and call me names from your pretty little mouth.”

His words, laced with both adoration and a playful mockery, were a delicious torment. He knew exactly what he was doing, what buttons to push, what words would make you writhe beneath him. Every syllable was a whip, a caress, a branding of his ownership. He pulled back, just for a moment, to look down at you, his eyes dark with a possessive fire.

“My good girl is such a dirty girl. Not-so-behaving well for me, yeah?” he challenged, his gaze holding you captive. He began to move again, each thrust deeper, more commanding than the last. “You want this, do you? Come, tell me, angel.”

He pushed into you with a final, deep thrust, and you gasped, the words bubbling up from a place deep inside you, a place he had broken open and claimed for himself. The words tumbled from your lips in a breathless, desperate rush, a chaotic symphony of pleas and confessions. You were a mess of raw desire, your mind unspooling in a haze of pure sensation.

“Yes! Yes, please, mommy—” you gasped, your hips bucking in time with his thrusts. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes a dark, bottomless sea of a possessive adoration.

“What? Does please all you can say right now, angel?” he challenged, his voice a low, teasing growl.

You shook your head, your hair a wild mess against the pillow. “No, I— I like this, mommy. I want it. I love it. I’m your dirty girl. Yours. Only yours, mommy. C-call me whatever you want—fuck! Ahh— please please please oh Seonghwa!”

The use of his name was a desperate slip, a moment of raw human need overriding the persona you had adopted. He didn’t stop, but a soft, adoring laugh rumbled in his chest, a sound that was both a caress and a triumph.

“Oh really?” he murmured, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Sounds nice when you’re moaning my name.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, the heat of his breath sending a shiver through you. “But it’s much better when you’re calling me mommy with your sweet tone. Come.”

He pulled back, his hand sliding to your hip, holding you in place. The pause, the anticipation, was a delicious torment. He waited, his eyes locked on yours, his expression a silent command. He wanted you to give yourself to him completely, to call out to the person he had become for you, to fully surrender. With his silent command, your will crumbled. You didn’t just feel the need; you felt a desperate, all-consuming urge to obey him. The world outside of his touch and his command ceased to exist. You were a vessel, waiting for him to fill you with his pleasure.

“Mommy…” you whimpered, your voice a trembling plea, “Mommy, please... I’m yours…”

The words were a key, unlocking a new level of his intensity. The soft look in his eyes hardened with a possessive fire, and he began to move with a relentless, breathtaking speed. His thrusts were deep and powerful, a physical manifestation of his claim on you. He held your gaze, watching your pupils dilate, watching the raw need bloom on your face.

“Yes, baby. Yes,” he growled, his voice a low, encouraging rumble. “You’re my good girl. Come on, for mommy…”

「김홍중 kim hongjoong」

he loves to push your face into the mattress as he plows into you from behind, muffling your whimpers while he fucks you so good

he can’t control himself when he has the opportunity to eat your pussy

「박성화 park seonghwa」

☆ him holding you in place so he can play with your clit and tits as you moan in his ear

he can’t help himself but to fuck your pretty pussy, even if you’re sleeping

「정윤호 jeong yunho」

he has to put you in your place after you kept distracting him when he was playing the game

☆ using your body however he pleases, pounding you while he makes sure you stay quiet

「강여상 kang yeosang」

☆ he loves titty fucking and making your chest messy and covered with his cum

when the members leave and he has the dorm to himself, he will make sure to fuck you on the couch

The small, windowless chamber at the rear of the house, usually a retreat, felt suffocating tonight, its deep, shadow-eating walls trapping the collective anxiety. It was an environment perfectly designed for confinement but horribly ill-equipped to contain the specific, volatile tension that had been building for weeks between Mingi and you. You were all crammed together—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, Wooyoung, San, and Jongho—for a game night that had long since abandoned any pretense of being relaxing. The air was heavy, saturated with the rich, aging aroma of liquor and cologne, a stifling blend that underscored the group’s forced proximity. Everyone in the room seemed keenly aware that the shared silence was merely holding back a confession, and every single move was calculated: a casual brush of your shoulder against Mingi’s was a spike of adrenaline, and every nervous, too-loud laugh from the others served as a ticking clock counting down to the moment the whole fragile pretense shattered.

The bottle, a heavy, empty liquor decanter, spun lazily across the glass coffee table, finally clattering to a halt and pointing squarely at Wooyoung.

“Yes! Dare, obviously,” he announced, grinning, clearly prepared for trouble.

Yunho, who had spun the bottle, raised an eyebrow. “I dare you to text the most recent contact in your phone—no checking who it is—the phrase ‘I’m pregnant, and it’s definitely yours.’”

The collective shout of laughter filled the room as Wooyoung frantically scrambled for his phone, the momentary distraction a small, necessary break from the underlying tension.

Next, San took his turn, choosing Truth. Hongjoong, with a knowing, leader-like seriousness, asked, “San, what is the biggest thing you are currently hiding from the group?”

San paused, his eyes darting to Yeosang for a split second before responding with a well-rehearsed sigh, “That I secretly love reality TV dating shows, and I’m afraid it ruins my cool image.”

The group groaned at the tame answer. The bottle spun to Hongjoong, who chose Dare and was forced to perform a surprisingly convincing dramatic monologue about the tragic life of a potato.

Seonghwa chose Truth and was asked by Jongho if he ever regretted being the oldest, to which he simply smiled and said, “Never, it means I get to watch all of you suffer.”

Yunho took a dare to impersonate a dog for one full minute, committing to the role with alarming enthusiasm. Yeosang chose Truth and was asked for the most embarrassing photo on his phone, which he quickly showed to the relief of the group. Finally, the bottle landed on Jongho, who chose Dare and had to sing a high note so powerful the very glassware on the table seemed to hum.

Then, inevitably, the bottle came to a slow stop, pointing directly at you. Your chest tightened. You knew the drill. The group would go easy on you, the one person not used to their brand of chaos.

You chose Truth. Seonghwa, with gentle sincerity, asked, “What is the biggest misunderstanding about you that you wish people knew the truth about?”

You took a deep breath, feeling Mingi’s gaze intensely on the side of your face.

“I think people assume I’m really quiet and reserved, but I wish they knew I’m just terrified of saying the wrong thing, so I keep everything inside,” you admitted, the confession feeling heavy and real.

After your turn, the bottle was spun again, the momentum of the game picking up, the tension knotting tighter as the turns sped by, bringing you closer and closer to the one person whose turn you dreaded. It was only two spins later when the neck of the bottle finally clattered to a stop, pointing with final, brutal clarity at Mingi. Mingi’s hand, resting on the velvet cushion, was now clenched into a fist. He looked up, his eyes immediately finding yours, and the noise of the rest of the room—their anticipation, their chuckles—faded into a distant, underwater echo. He hadn’t expected the bottle to land on him so soon after your turn, and the look in his eyes was a terrifying mix of resignation and sudden, reckless opportunity.

“Truth or Dare, Mingi?” San asked, oblivious to the earthquake about to happen. Mingi didn’t even look at San. He stared at you, his jaw clenching, and he finally spoke, his voice a low, gravelly sound that seemed to vibrate only between the two of you.

“Truth.”

Now, the group knew he was serious. The noise stopped instantly, replaced by a charged silence. Seonghwa, always the most perceptive, took a slow sip of his drink and asked the question that would either ruin the night or change everything.

“Alright, no softball question this time. Mingi, if you had to leave this room right now with one person—just one—to never come back and to finally do the one thing you’ve been obsessing over, who would it be, and what would that one thing be?”

The question hung heavy, perfectly mirroring the unspoken desire you both carried. Mingi’s gaze didn’t waver, and without a second of hesitation, he gave his answer, a raw, whispered word that sliced through the charged silence: “Her.” He didn’t elaborate on the “thing,” but the way his eyes devoured yours, bold and uncompromising, made the “thing” feel like an immediate, inevitable future. The gasp you let out was the loudest sound in the room, and as the boys erupted in shocked yells, Mingi reached out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist in a possessive, grounding grip that told you the game was over, and the truth had just won.

The word “her” was barely out of his mouth before the room detonated into noise—a collective explosion of shock, whistles, and the frantic scrabble of hands reaching for wallets. But before the chaos could fully register, before you could process the exposed truth or the sudden, deafening pounding in your own chest, Mingi was moving. His grip on your wrist tightened, hauling you across the scant space separating you on the couch. The world tilted sideways. One large hand cradled the back of your head, the other locked securely around your waist, pulling you against the solid, immovable length of him. His mouth found yours with a fierce, starved urgency that wiped out all thought, all sound, and every single person in the room. It was not a tender, questioning kiss. It was the physical, desperate release of weeks of pent-up desire, a confirmation that resonated through your entire body as you clung to the familiar warmth of his shirt. He tasted like the single glass of whiskey he’d nursed all night and the reckless freedom of a truth finally spoken. When he finally broke the kiss—only enough for a ragged, mutual gasp of air—his forehead rested against yours, eyes closed, his breathing labored and fast.

The noise of the lounge slowly bled back in, morphing from yells of shock into annoyed banter.

“Pay up, fuckers. Wooyoung! No running!” Jongho shouted, his voice a triumphant baritone that cut through the lingering adrenaline.

You pulled back slightly, adrenaline mixing with a rush of amused indignation, your lips tingling. You looked at the rest of the group, who were either pulling out cash or sheepishly handing over bills.

“You guys bet on us?” you asked, a bubble of genuine, surprised laughter rising in your throat—a reaction Mingi definitely hadn’t expected, a reaction that made a slow, relieved smile spread across his face.

“Oh, they did. We had an observation talk last month, and we noticed this shift of tension between the two of you,” Seonghwa explained, his expression completely calm as he accepted a crumpled twenty from Yunho.

“So they did bet on you guys.” He shrugged, adjusting the collar of his shirt as if predicting the dissolution of relationships was a common Tuesday activity.

“We warned them though—Hey, San! Come on. Pay up. Yeosang, you too. No trying to hide under the pillow,” Hongjoong scolded, neatly folding a few bills.

“We told them it was a guaranteed win for Team Mingi, but they insisted you’d drag it out until Christmas. Fools.”

Mingi finally opened his eyes and looked down at you, the intensity from the kiss softening into a smoky, possessive desire. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear.

“It seems we’ve just made them all richer,” he murmured.

He didn’t wait for your reply. He lifted you easily off the couch and onto his lap, shifting you so you were straddling him, your arms automatically going around his neck. The others didn’t even flinch; they were too busy counting money.

“And now that we’ve satisfied their curiosity and their bank accounts,” Mingi continued, his voice dropping, his eyes darkening as he began to toy with the hem of your shirt, “I think it’s time we did the actual thing I was obsessing over. Unless you want to stick around and watch Jongho count his winnings?”

You tried to push off his lap, eyes still wide with amusement and a playful demand for justice. “I want a share—” you protested, trying to leverage your way off the cushion and into the gambling ring.

Mingi’s arms tightened, caging you securely against him. His smile was predatory, his eyes blazing with a singular focus that made the blood rush everywhere but your head.

“Nuh-uh, baby. You’re coming with me.”

In one smooth, decisive movement that utterly dismissed your protest, he rose from the couch, scooping you up into his arms in a fireman’s carry, your shocked yelp swallowed by the plushness of his shirt.

The lounge erupted in a fresh wave of cheers and triumphant shouts.

“Yes! Go get her, Mingi!” Wooyoung yelled, followed by a chorus of supportive laughter.

“Don’t forget the door lock!” Yeosang called out helpfully.

As he carried you swiftly toward the far end of the hallway where his room was, you hammered playfully on his back, your voice full of genuine, breathless outrage—not at him, but at the betrayal of your friends.

“Fuck—JONGHO, Y’ALL ARE FUCKING DEADASS. YOU BETTER BE SHARING THOSE BETS WITH ME,” you shrieked, the volume of your protest rising as the distance grew between you and the velvet lounge.

Mingi didn’t stop or slow down. He kicked open the door to his bedroom—a space mercifully free of the oppressive burgundy and smelling faintly of sandalwood and crisp laundry—and crossed the threshold. The door slammed shut with a sharp thwack that silenced the distant celebratory shouts of the boys, and the solid click of the lock mechanism was the final, absolute sound of all excuses and inhibitions being dismissed.

He released you, but only halfway. Your feet hit the floor, but his hands remained firmly planted on your hips, keeping you pinned close to his chest. The transition from the public, explosive drama of the game night to the sudden, private quiet of his room was instant and disorienting. You finally looked up at him, breathless, and found his earlier playful grin had been entirely replaced by an intense, overwhelming gravity.

“No more games,” he murmured, his voice low and ragged, his thumbs beginning a slow, deliberate circle on your skin beneath your shirt.

“And definitely no more waiting.”

He didn’t wait for your reply this time, either. He drove his mouth down to yours again, not with the quick desperation of the first kiss, but with a deep, consuming pressure that demanded a full response. His hands moved from your hips, sliding up your back to yank your shirt free of your waistband before bunching the fabric in his fists. He backed you up one slow, deliberate step after another until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, a soft give that signaled the final surrender of the night.

The soft give of the bed was the final, unspoken permission.

Mingi didn’t lift his mouth from yours as he pressed you back onto the mattress, his heavy frame settling over yours, a necessary weight that pinned you in place. The kiss deepened, becoming less a seeking and more a claiming. His hand, abandoning your hair, moved swiftly to the small of your back, arching you into the contact. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the fabric of your dress becoming a hindrance.

“This is better than a stupid game,” he groaned against your neck, the sound thick with heat and relief.

“It is,” you agreed, breathless, already tugging furiously at the remnants of his shirt. "You took too long, Mingi. You let them bet on us!"

“I know, I know,” he murmured, his fingers working with surprising speed to undo the delicate buttons on the front of your dress.

“I was waiting for the right moment to make a statement.” He peeled the dress from your shoulders, letting it pool around your hips, his eyes darkening as he took in your exposed skin.

“Was that statement loud enough?”

“Loud enough to make Jongho rich,” you countered, though the sound was shaky and thin.

You reached up, pulling his head back down for a deep, consuming kiss that cut off any further protest. He moved his hands beneath you, the cool touch of his fingers against your bare skin sending a shockwave of heat through your core. He discarded the final barrier with a decisive flick. You felt the raw, urgent heat of his body pressed fully against yours, a solid, grounding presence that confirmed this was real, not just a fantasy born of tension.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his breath hot against your ear.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. They were darker than the night sky, filled with an intensity that stripped away any last bit of reservation.

“Tell me I’m yours, right now,” he demanded, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated in your chest.

“Mine,” you whispered back, not needing to think, the word an honest confession that echoed the truth he had just screamed in the lounge.

He didn’t wait any longer. He positioned himself, his body heavy and absolute above you, and entered you in a single, deep thrust. A sharp cry escaped your throat, the sensation overwhelming yet utterly familiar, like a space in your life that had always been meant for him. You locked your arms around his neck, pulling him down until his ear was pressed close to your mouth.

“You are going to owe me a lot more than just a share of the betting pool for this,” you managed to gasp as he began to move, a slow, powerful grind that quickly escalated.

“Name your price, baby. It’s all yours,” he promised, his voice choked, his focus singular.

He picked up the pace, the rhythm becoming fast and relentless, driving you both higher and higher into a space where only sound and sensation existed. The bed creaked a loud, rhythmic protest against the wall, a sound that only seemed to fuel his intensity. You clung to him, your nails digging into the hard muscle of his back, every thrust a confirmation of the long-held desire he had finally released. He reached a hand up, brushing the damp hair from your forehead, his eyes fixed on yours even as his breath hitched. The climax hit you with a force that made your entire body tremble, your final cry muffled against the warm, damp skin of his shoulder. He followed quickly, his weight collapsing heavily on yours, his final, ragged groan sounding like a defeated admission of how long he had fought this feeling.

Afterward, he rolled onto his side, pulling you tight against him, pulling the duvet over both of you. His heart still hammered a frantic rhythm against your back.

“The money,” you mumbled, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. “Did Jongho really win?”

He chuckled, the deep vibration resonating through your entire body.

“He did. And now, he owes me for the use of the bed.” He lifted his head, propped himself on an elbow, and looked down at you, his eyes soft but unmistakably serious.

“We aren’t going back out there tonight. We have a lot more truth to cover.”

The immediate aftermath was quiet, save for the sound of their ragged breathing slowly returning to normal. Mingi had settled onto his side, keeping you tucked spoon-fashion against the curve of his body, the duvet pulled high over your shoulders. He pressed a lingering, soft kiss to the back of your head, his voice low and warm against your ear.

“Aren’t you sleepy, princess?”

You shifted slightly, finding the solid, steady heat of his body immensely comforting.

“Not at all,” you replied, tilting your head back so you could feel the rumble of his chest when he spoke.

The adrenaline hadn’t fully drained away yet; it was replaced by a humming, satiated energy.

Mingi hummed. “I see.”

His hand, which had been resting loosely on your hip, suddenly shifted, tracing a slow, deliberate path down your thigh. You shivered, though not from cold. His fingers moved lower, finding the slick, sensitive skin between your legs. His touch was no longer frantic; it was slow, curious, and profoundly intimate. He paused just at your entrance, and you felt a sudden, thick warmth of release as his body let go of the residual evidence of their passionate coupling. You gasped, a soft sound, feeling the warm, heavy pressure as he slowly, carefully, began to gather the remaining cum with the pad of his thumb. The intimacy of the gesture—the quiet, focused cleaning—was somehow more vulnerable than the reckless abandon of the act itself.

He worked his fingers into the slickness, gently massaging the tender, sensitive spot until you were whimpering, your back arching faintly against his chest. The soft, rhythmic friction, coupled with the heavy warmth of his body spooning yours, was an exquisite torture.

“Mingi,” you pleaded, your voice barely a breath. It was a complaint, a plea, and a command all wrapped into one.

He pressed his lips to the skin just behind your ear, his voice a dark, encouraging murmur. “Shh. Just relax. You can’t tell me you don’t like this, baby.”

He increased the pressure and speed, his body moving subtly behind you to maximize the sensation. The residual exhaustion melted away, replaced by a fresh, immediate surge of pleasure. The room, silent moments before, was soon filled with your quiet gasps and the rhythmic sound of his fingers working magic until your hips began to jerk involuntarily. You couldn’t form words, couldn’t even manage a coherent thought, as the second wave of sensation crested, pulling a tight, breathless moan from your throat. Mingi finally stilled his hand, his breathing deep and satisfied, his arm tightening around your waist as you settled back against him, trembling faintly.

“Now,” he whispered, planting a final, possessive kiss on your neck. “Now are you sleepy, princess?”

You sighed contentedly, the warmth of his body and the lingering sensations making your limbs feel heavy and liquid. You were utterly spent, yet completely grounded.

“I think I could sleep for a year,” you mumbled, burrowing deeper into the crook of his shoulder. You felt him smile against your skin.

“Good,” he whispered. “Because you’re not going anywhere.” His arm, wrapped possessively around your waist, tightened ever so slightly, anchoring you.

The silence that settled over the room this time was different. It wasn’t the tense, expectant quiet of the lounge, nor the desperate, charged silence of the earlier confrontation. This was a deep, intimate stillness, broken only by the synchronized rhythm of their breathing and the soft, distant sound of the city outside. You lifted a tired hand, tracing the line of Mingi’s forearm resting against your stomach.

“They’re going to give us hell tomorrow,” you predicted, a small smile playing on your lips.

“They’ll try,” he conceded, dropping another soft kiss onto the back of your neck. “But we’ll be too busy ignoring them.” He shifted, adjusting the pillow beneath his head, making sure you were comfortable before settling back down.

"I’ve waited too long for this quiet, princess. I’m not sharing it with seven loud idiots.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your back, the solid presence of his leg nestled between yours. The faint, sweet scent of his cologne mingled with the musk of their intimacy, forming a comforting, unique aroma that instantly felt like home. The earlier tension was an abstract memory, replaced by a profound, physical ease. In the deep, silent darkness of his room, the truth had not only been revealed but had been fully, physically accepted.

Just before you drifted off, you heard Mingi’s voice, a final, sincere murmur against your hair: “Sleep well. I’ll be right here.”

he has you on your back, his arm draped over your lower stomach, pinning your hips to the mattress so you can’t move, pressing on your belly so you can feel everything. borderline torturing you. in that hand, a small hitachi wand he pressed up against your sore puffy clit. his other fingers are busy enough, knuckle deep in your soaked cunt. slow, deep, pressured “come here” motions inside of you, the rough pads of his fingers constantly grazing that spongy spot that makes your legs shake.

long, slender, dexterous, his fingers reach places you could only dream of touching. he knows the power he holds in his hands and he loves to be mean about it to his sweet little girl. pinning your hips down with his arm so you can’t buck away. the wand buzzes on the second-highest setting, pressing up against your clit to maximize the sensation of the vibrations.

his cheek pressed up against your inner thigh, giving you those stupid puppy eyes while he completely obliterates you.

and his fingers slowly coax, kneading your gspot and stroking your walls like a massage.

he knows your body like he crafted it limb by limb himself. knows what nerves to press and what areas to brush. tormenting you with his touch, all the while whispering sweet, sick things to you, while all you can do is lie there. lie there and feel, listen, and writhe beneath him.

and god, does it get him going like crazy.

the very first time it happens, your hands fly down to snatch his hair, your thighs trembling and your breathing shakes. "yu-" you can barely get any words out to tell him, but he knew. of course, he did.

"go on baby, you got it." he murmurs against your skin, pressing his fingers up inside you and circling that torturous spot over and over again. the wand buzzes in your ears, your moans now gone, only replaced with shallow, heavy breaths as your orgasm rocks over you.

to help pull it out of you, yunho lifts the wand off your clit momentarliy, only to bring it right back down, stroking it up against your clit in increments. each time he brings it back down in contact your entire body twitches, groans wrack your body as spray all over the bedsheets, his fingers still curling strong inside of you.

"fuck, there it is." his voice drops to a low growl, and it sounds like he just shot something into his veins, a wicked grin on his face as he takes in your body's responses to his torment. "c'mon baby, again. it drives me insane when you do that."

because of course, one isn't enough for him. he wants more from you, and he always gets what he wants.

you sob as he places the wand firm on your clit again, the click of the button resounding in your ears as he ups the setting, a deeper, faster vibration that makes your stomach feel like its caving in.

he slips a third finger into you with ease, pushing up and forward, slow drags with so much pressure.

your hands grip his messy brown hair even harder, tugging so roughly he groans against your skin and sinks his teeth into the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. he runs his tongue flat smooth over the bite, the taste of your blood flooding his mouth and making his dick twitch almost instantaneously.

he moves his mouth away from your thigh and finally lifts the wand off of your clit, just to replace the vibrations with his warm mouth. slick and hot, his lips wrap around your clit, his tongue circling around it while he sucks like his life depended on it.

you couldn't control your shaking, and before you knew it, you were squirting again, and yunho was eager to drink up as much as he could. "thats it! fuck baby...” the need in his voice is wanton, so unbelievably turned on over how easily your body responds to him that it hurt. he was addicted to you in the best way, and he'd let this addiction destroy him from the inside out if it meant he could have you like this every single fucking day.

his growls are low and his purrs are heavy, his tongue slips right under the hood of your clit, the wand making its third grand appearace right above it, his fingers start to press harder, curl faster, and at this point your voice had long left you.

"yu-nho b-baby... fuck! i can't 's too m-much!" you're sniffling, crying, overstimulation making your head feel fuzzy, and yet your body still aches for his touch like no other.

“you can.” he snarls, his eyes heavy lidded and dark. the "and you will," is implied, you know that you will. you always take what he gives you like a good girl.

“you look so fucking pretty. just wish I could tie you up and torture you, day in and day out, i bet you’d love that wouldn’t you, my dumb baby.”

He pressed harder against you bladder and your entire body jerks in response, effectively pulling another orgasm from your spent body, covering yunho in your wetness, creating puddles on your sheets as he laughs quietly like he can't believe it.

“fuck! i just can’t get enough of you sweetheart,” he drops the wand again and moved his arm off your stomach, grabbing either one of your hips and sliding you to the end of the bed. his arms hook beneath your thighs, yanking you back down to his mouth where he devours your cunt relentlessy. sloppy licks and wet, open-mouth kisses, his tongue carefully twirling around your clit.

his fingers are back inside of you in no time, now coaxing inside of you so slowly you could feel every single sensation, every twitch, and every curl of them.

it was getting hard to breathe, your moans reduced to nothing but helpless whimpers.

then he lifts his hand, and lands a harsh slap against your clit. you gasp, your back arching into him right as he slides his tongue flat over your clit with a hungry moan, his eyes rolling. “stay with me now beautiful.” he coos at you like he felt sorry for you, all the while his fingers stir up your guts mercilessly.

“yunho!” you yelp, your hand yanking out of his hair to snatch his wrist, to try to get him to let up. but he was determined and had no plan of stopping anytime soon. he only chuckles at your feeble attempt to stop him, teasing you by curling his fingers deeper into you.

his lips remain suctioned to your clit, pulling off every now and then with a slick pop to land another few slaps against it. “c’mon baby, c’mon…” he’s groaning, eyes hazed over with lust, high off your helplessness. “squirt all over me baby, you can do it. make a fuckin mess.”

again, and again, and again. each time it seems more and more impossible than the last, but he still manages to force it out of you. your entire body shivers uncontrollably, your brain is a muddled mess, and yunho is convinced you can give him more.

his hand reaches up and slaps your cheek, trying to wake you from your stupor as you begin to slip away from him. “uh uh, stop that.” He whispers, the wand back on your clit, pulsing against it with force that made your skull rattle. “don’t go anywhere. right here baby, right here with me.”

when you start to lose feeling? don’t worry, he’s got you.

“aww you going numb sweet girl? we can’t have that now can we?”

he’ll feed you an aphrodisiac to keep you going. keep you kicking, keep you feeling. the sadistic fuck just loves to watch you fall apart.

you always get a false sense of hope. his hands will slip away, he'll crawl up your body, the wand forgotten by your side. his hand will slip to the front of your throat, gripping gently as his lips slot with yours with a domestic gentlness. soft kisses that make your stomach jump, his warm tounge gently running over yours. a quiet kiss as he murmurs praises down your throat.

then he'll smile, oh so slowly, against your lips. the hand that isn't on your throat, traces a featherlight path down the front of your body. he'll pull from your lips, and his gaze is shadowed with lechery. he tilts his head up, his lips parted, looking down to catch every expression you make when he slides his fingers right back into you, grinning when your eyebrows cinch and you gasp as the cycle starts over once again.

this time he can get a real good look at you sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks, your eyes shiny and wet. it makes him so hard that it hurts.

he'll shush you, kissing your tears away, licking up your jaw with a low purr, trying to calm his poor baby down as she's pushed to the absolute brink of overstimulation. he leans down and kisses the shell of your ear, whispering sweet nothings.

"shh shhh, baby, it's okay. you’re okay. yeahhh, my beautiful girl." a shuddering kiss to the side of your throat, the hand on your neck only seeming to tighten its grip.

"this pussy's crying for me, you're crying for me. so precious. so slutty..." he presses his open mouth against your ear and moans. whines, growls, coos, he knows how you like to hear his voice when he's ravaging you, and he can tell by the way you manage to clench your thighs around his wrist.

twelve. that's how many times he made you squirt this go around.

"new record." he'd whisper in your ear when he was finally done having his way with you, to which he would then clean you up so sweetly. gently bathing you as if you were made of porcelain, kissing your tears away with sugar-dripped praise and a promise to be more gentle next time.

a promise you hear every time, a promise which is never kept.

you were addicted to it just as much as he was, and you could only anticipate for the next time, how he would ruin you once again.

he always wondered exactly what your limit might be. i mean, you had to be building up some kind of tolerance by now. the curiosity kept him up at night. what if he broke you?

well it was always a burning question until next time. and if he did end up finally breaking his sweet girl?

tying you up for him and him alone might not be that hard a decision as yunho thought.

it feels like fate aligns against your favor when your boss tells you who he’s creating a partnership with.

if the red string theory was real and people who are meant for each other are connected, then you just got dragged through the dirt and slammed into a black leather swivelling chair in this boardroom, right across from your ex.

jeong yunho. the name itself is sickening, and you feel like throwing up when you see his face. the same, unwavering smirk paints his features. straight tie, clean hair, ironed suit. his posture is lax, tilting his head to the front of the room and listening intently, like he didn’t just purposely brush your heeled foot with his polished shoe underneath the table.

“snake.”  was all you could think when you eyed his smug composure. was he being serious right now? you’d finally forgotten about him after a year, moving away from your hometown after finding out the man you’d been dating for two years cheated on you with none other than his secretary.

the girl beside him is the same evil face you’d memorized a year ago, the sharp lines of her eyes practically engrained into your brain. her lips are glossed and her skirt is almost scandalously short, and she sits beside yunho like you didn’t catch them in the act together. she was evil. she knew about you, but she didn’t care.

your eyes practically burn holes into both of them, the front of the room, and the side of your bosses face as he presents his ideas. but it wasn’t his fault. he couldn’t have known his partner company was completely owned by your two faced ex.

your boss continues to ramble at the front, but blood pounds in your head. you feel heat pulsing throughout your body in rage, the presences in front of you emitting an aura you hated with all your might.

when the meeting finally wraps up, yunho stands and shakes your bosses hand. he gives him an angel smile that you can see right past, and there’s practically a devil sitting on his shoulder in your eyes.

yunhos secretary stands when he does, following right behind him like a leech. you watch the scene unfold with complete fury, and you wouldn’t be surprised if yunho could see the way you seethed at them.

your boss starts talking to you, handing you papers and talking about your workload. but all your world narrows down to is yunho walking out the door, throwing a knowing glance and smirk at you before disappearing with his secretary.

you were beyond irritated. the rest of the day played out with a silent rage, and you could feel anger bubbling deep beneath the surface.

when nightfall came and your boss decided to call it a day, you step out of your shared car with him, bidding him and the driver goodnight and heading in the opposite direction. your elevator is in a deeper part of the hotel, one that houses the quieter suites you opted for.

the elevator arrives with a ring, and you’re lost in examination at the papers before you. your heels click as you step in, turning to the buttons and selecting your floor.

“y/n?” a deep voice rings out from behind you.

your skin fucking crawls. it feels like there’s something underneath your skin that wants out, and you can feel a shiver shoot up your spine. the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, nerves alight and all too aware.

you don’t turn around. you stay staring at the metal doors in front of you, the seconds suddenly feeling like decades. if you ignore him, he’s not there. you clutch your papers tighter to your chest, legs suddenly feeling exposed in your black pencil skirt.

“y/n…” yunho drawls, stepping closer into your personal space. you can feel the heat of his presence behind yours, body alight in a cold sweat. “you ignoring me?”

you can’t help the malicious words that slip past your lips, still not turning around to meet his eyes. “i’ve ignored you for a year, so fuck off.”

yunho smirks from behind you. “i know angel…” he muses, pulling his head closer to your ear. you feel the tickle of his warm breath at your side, and the nickname that rolls off his tongue feels like a pin dragging through your heart and puncturing a slit. you haven’t heard it in so long, and you’d be damned if you heard it again.

you take a step away from him, finally meeting his eyes and glaring daggers. fuck, was the 23rd floor really that far away? this felt like it took eternities. “don’t call me that” you mutter darkly.

the lines of his face are harsh under the elevators lighting, and he looks completely sinister. there’s that same smug smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, and you’d completely slap it off his face if you’d seen him like this a year ago.

“i called you.” yunho says softly. as if you needed him to remind you, with the insane amount of missed calls you opened your phone to each day, before eventually blocking him.

“don’t.” you say with what you hope is enough finality to finally leave you alone. you clutch the papers even tighter, the joints of your fingers turning white. the edges you gripped at were most definitely crinkled now.

the elevator finally opens with a small ding, an echo that sounds far away in your clouded mind. the breath of fresh air it provides is relieving, and you’re faster than light stepping out. your heels click as you walk away as fast as your feet allow you, the sound being the only thing that fills the hallway.

a smile grows on yunhos face, following you out.

you hear the heavy footsteps that follow behind you, slow and agonizing yet able to keep up without speeding up. your head really spins with rage now, whipping around to eye him. “why the fuck are you following me?” you hiss, accusatory stance in play.

“following you?” he asks you in a you’re-so-dumb tone. “you should be more aware of your surroundings angel.”

“wh—” you cut yourself off, finally scanning the rooms around you. the dark red doors are the exact same make and layout, and the dim yellow lights are the same ones that you saw the first night. the only difference is that the numbers on the wall read 2108, 2110, 2112, instead of 2308, 2310, 2312.

yunho cocks his head in triumpth, and warmth spreads in his chest at his small victory.

“fuck.” you mutter, already moving to step around him.

yunho quickly side steps you, easily closing the space between your bodies. “wait angel—”

“fuck. off.” you spit, almost colliding with his chest. you keep your eyes trained on the floor below you, because if you don’t, you’re scared you’ll stop thinking logically. he smells like cinnamon and whiskey, deep scent carrying into your nose and stinging. he smells exactly the same as the morning you caught him, before you found out he was cheating. you kissed him and straightened his tie before he left for work, and when he leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead you inhaled the same scent you were smelling now. back then, it smelled like heaven, clouds, and everything sweet you could imagine. now, the smell burned in your nostrils, and you could almost gag.

“please listen to me—hear me out baby.” comes yunhos voice.

your patience snaps like a livewire that had been pulled too tight, the sickening coil in your stomach churning with your next words. “i’m done yunho!”. his name rolls off your tongue and you can taste the hatred. “i hate you, and i don’t care about you anymore!”. old memories flash through your mind like a movie, and you’re sure your words can be heard from inside the rooms around you, but you don’t care. all you want is to be away from this evil spawn of man that you don’t even want to call your ex. you don’t want to have any relation to him.

yunho grimaces at your words. “i know i was wrong—”

“of course you’re fucking wrong!” you yell, taking a step back. “there’s no fucking explanation for what you did so leave me alone!”. you hope he doesn’t catch the tremble at the end of your sentence, the familiar feeling of tears in the form of heat creeping up under your cheeks. you try to take a step to the other side, but yunho mirrors you perfectly, shielding your smaller frame with his wide shoulders.

he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, trying to level his own patience. your screaming does nothing, didn’t you know that by now?

“listen to me—”

“no. i’m never hearing you out.” you seethe, stepping to the opposite side. yunho mirros you yet again, preventing your leave. “if you don’t fucking move i’ll start screaming that i need help. you want that image for your stupid company?”

a dry, humourless laugh leaves his lips. his shoulders barely shake as he deadpans and stares at you with the most empty eyes you’d ever seen on him. what the hell were you talking about? stupid company? scream for help? were you fucking insane? a deep fire starts in the pit of yunhos stomach, and his fingertips start to shake in annoyance.

over your head and down the hall, a man in an expensive robe opens the door of his room, peering at the two of you. he catches yunhos eyes staring back at him, towering over your shorter silhouette. you don’t even notice yunhos eyes staring past you, still trapped in a fit of anger.

the man doesn’t linger, just quickly narrows his eyes at the two of you before shutting his door once more.

“are you going to fucking move or should i scream?—fine, fucking be that way.” you huff. you barely have time to open your mouth next before yunho shoves you against a door, palm clamped over your mouth and other hand easily holding both arms that clutched at the papers over your chest. the press on your limbs is suffocating, and you can feel your head going light with how hard it hit the wall.

“if you fucking scream, you’ll regret what i’m going to do to you.” yunho whispers, so quiet only the two of you can hear. the words roll off his tongue so naturally it makes you sick in the stomach, looking up at him through your lashes with wide eyes.

he removes the hand pinning your arms to your chest, rummaging through his pocket for the rooms card. a voice in the back of your head tells you to run, scream, flail, do anything. but you’re limp in his hold, the all too familiar feeling weighing over your body and making you dizzy.

the door holding you up opens and you almost stumble backwards if not for yunho steadying you. you’re standing in the doorway of your exes hotel room, staring dumbly at him as the door shuts with a soft click.

he sighs. “i didn’t want to do that, but you gave me no choice angel.”

no. this was the manipulating, cunning man that always used these tricks on you. you weren’t going to fall for it again. you were done. you’d decided that a year ago. when you caught him with that girl.

your vision goes white. all that registers is the stinging on your hand that feels like small needles, and the scatter of papers on the floor. the moment is over before all the papers can even hit the floor, and yunhos head is whipped painfully to one side.

the slap echoes loud in both of your ears.

it’s silent for a few beats. you heart hammers behind your ribs, and all you can feel is the adrenaline rush that courses through your veins and the sting of your palm. you can hear your own ragged breathing in your ears, and your chest practically heaves.

you don’t have words. you hate the man before you. you hate what he grew into. grew into? you don’t even know. was he always a cheater? did you do something that made him cheat? was it your fault?

your mind swims to the last few months. you’d just recovered from the suffering, the nonstop crying, the deep depression he’d put you in. you doubted your self worth, doubted if it was something she had that you didn’t. you doubted if you ever deserved to be loved again, you questioned if you even were going to be loved again. you’d just crawled of that hole. who the hell was he to decide to pull you back down into it?

yunho turns to you, the movement of his head slow. you can see the glimmer of a tear in the corner of his eye, accompanied with a red glow on his cheek from the slap you delivered moments prior.

“i—”

yunho cuts you off again. he lunges at you like a panther pouncing on its prey, grabbing the back of your neck with practiced precision as his other hand snakes around your waist.

he easily flips you so your back is pressed against the wall, one of your hands flying up to his arm that cradles your head. the speed that everything happens at is dizzying, and you can barely think over the familiar press of his lips on yours. he tastes the same—heat and passion. poison seeping. you try to pull his arm off you but fail miserably, the taller easily overpowering you.

he kisses you like a moth to a flame. his lips are soft and wanting, the same feeling that used to make you melt. he used to kiss you everyday when he got home. he used to let you run into his arms and pull you into a deep hug, burying his head in the crook of your shoulder. he used to pet your hair and use his height advantage to make fun of you. he used to pepper your face with little kisses when you had a rough day. he used to hold you like he had the universe in his arms. because he did.

you tear your face away from his when you feel his tongue slide across your lips, asking for permission. the two of you are out of breath now, his lips wet and eyes completely glossed over. he looks at you with a far away look in his eyes, and his chest heaves like he hadn’t learned how to breathe without you ever since you’d left.

he grabs your hand and laces his fingers through yours, slow and intimate. the contact sends sparks rushing through your arms and to your core, feeling a deep pang of heat mixed with frustration. you let him move your hand to his chest, pressing against the material of his suit and feeling the hardness of his chest beneath your fingers.

thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

yunho looks at your face. “do you feel that?”. there’s tears welling up in the corners of his eyes again, and his eyebrows mold his face into a pleading, almost yearning look as he studies your reaction this new information. he lowers his voice to a mere whisper. “i need you angel.”

you can barely think. the same, cocky, cheating fuck is staring at you with the most pleading puppy eyes you’d ever seen. your head is spinning through a thousand thoughts a second, yet all you can focus on is the dull sheen on his lips. there’s a fire ignited deep inside you, one you’re not sure you can extinguish if not for yunho.

you move faster than your mind thinks. you grab at his collar with such an intensity he almost topples onto you, his hands slamming into the wall behind you. there’s nothing except hatred behind your lips, moving against his with so much force he almost forgets what kissing you used to feel like.

he melts. yunho groans sinfully into your mouth, hand snaking around to cradle your neck again. your mouths meld, all lust, need, and hurt. his hands feel familiar, holding you like he plans to never let go. his tongue is warm on yours, licking and exploring, reopening a chapter that should have stayed closed.

when he feels small, hot tears trickling from your eyes and falling in between where your cheeks meet, a smirk tugs at his lips that are still moving against yours. he wins again. it didn’t matter how long it took or how far you’d been apart, he’d always win. you were always pliant when it came to him. he was just stupid enough to get caught with his secretary back then – surprising you didn’t find out earlier than that.

he started sleeping with her halfway into your relationship. he didn’t think there was anything wrong with you, no. in fact, he loved you more than he could wrap his head around. or at least that’s what he thought love felt like. but something about the thrill of doing something wrong, the rush of being caught, fuelled the flames of his desire like a lit match to gasoline. he loved the game. he loved how stupidly you always believed that he had more work to do at the office, how you welcomed him home as he was still coming down from a high, how you still bend to his will even until now.

the memory sends a pleasureful kick to his stomach, one that makes him feel a coil building. he pulls you against him and starts walking you backwards into the large hotel bed, still kissing you like he cares about how you feel.

yunho pushes you down, your back meeting the plush of the sheets under your thin clothing. he plants one hand beside your head, easily towering over you with his larger build. the other hand caresses at your legs, feeling the smooth skin and increasing his deep, primal hunger for you.

there’s an equal hunger for him building in your core, wetting the soft fabric of your cotton panties. your stomach clenches each time his nails drag over your skin, calculating and featherlight, like he remembers where your sensitive spots are. he breaks the kiss, wasting no time and moving to your neck.

you let out a soft gasp. he nips at the skin, pulling it between his teeth and swirling his practiced tongue over it. heat blooms in his wake, stemming the fruit of lust every time he kisses at the spot he previously bit into. you snake your fingers into the soft locks of his hair, tugging each time the pleasure shoots straight to your clit and makes you writhe beneath him.

“yunho…” you whine, the unused name still tasting bitter as it rolls off your tongue.

he presses one last kiss to your neck, feeling you jerk under his hold. “mm?”

you look down at him. his previously neat hair is tousled, and his baby pink lips are swollen. his black suit is crinkled and messy, and his tie rests messily on top of your dress shirt. he juts his tongue out to wet his lips, and you can barely meet his eyes as embarrassment spreads when realization hits you. what the actual fuck are you doing with your ex? why are you letting him make you feel this way? just because he’s the only man whos fucked you and made you finish, doesn’t mean he’s the only one who can. you’re just desperate right now, you’re letting your hormones think for you.

the words that leave your lips betray the last of rational thought in your mind. “i need you too…”. you mumble.

he almost lets an evil grin crack through the façade he put up, already moving to remove your clothing. he gently slips your skirt off and slowly unbuttons your collared shirt, leaving you almost bare underneath him. the matching black set drives him crazy, and he can feel the tent in his pants straining impossibly tight. your heels are the last thing he removes, caressing your ankles and admiring how well you took care of your skin. it’s addicting, the soft smoothness against his fingertips. every brush of his fingers against bare skin sends arousal pooling in your panties, still impatiently waiting for him to hurry up.

you squirm uncomfortably when he pulls back to stare, feeling suddenly insecure. his suit is still on in contrast to you, and the pleading look that once homed in his eyes is lost, replaced by a deeper, sultry gaze.

he leans down again, planting a hand beside your head. “my angel is always so pretty…” he purrs, barely above a whisper. goosebumps erupt on your skin when you catch the soft growl at the end of his words, remembering the bedroom voice he always used on you.

he doesn’t wait any longer. he lets his fingers trace over the lines of your body, watching in amazement every time you flinch under him, hypersensitive to his touch. he finally pulls your soaked panties to the side, exposing your throbbing entrance.

you feel alive right now. every nerve is alight and thrums with the knowing of how wrong this is, yet there’s nobody else that makes you feel the way he does. there’s a sickening push and pull of attraction with him that you never managed to fully get rid of, and sometimes the thought of your old sex life with him was what you touched yourself to late at night, the only thing that could make you finish.

he drags a finger through your slick folds, wetness easily coating his fingers in a sticky film. he takes his time with you, just teasing around the entrance or nudging gently at your clit, all of which sends electricity straight to your core. your hips buck helplessly into his fingers, trying to meet him halfway in the middle as he continues to tease.

yunho chuckles, amazed at how desperate you were despite your previous protests. he watches in awe at how slick you are just from him, just a makeout session and a few touches he barely had to program.

he slowly teases one finger in, pushing into your entrance. the heat that swallows him is immediate, warm and tight. you throb on his fingers, and the feeling goes straight to his dick.

a soft moan leaves your lips, back almost immediately arching off the bed when the full length of his finger is sheathed in. he experimentally pulls in and out, gauging your reaction and the way your body stutters. “fuck yunho…” you mumble, mind in ecstasy.

there’s a teasing expression on his features, feeling your walls clamp around him when he tries to slip another finger in. his hands are so large he can thumb at your clit while gently thrusting his fingers in and out, and he watches in delight when your jaw goes slack. the swell of your breasts from this angle is addicting, paired with the submissive look in your eyes and the breaths of pleasure that leave your lips, yunho could practically be in heaven right now.

you cry out when he curls his fingers, hitting the soft spongey spot inside you that makes your vision go white. your back arches off the bed, trying to grip at the sheets or his arm, anything that’ll stabilize the pleasure that ripples through you.

“yeah? that makes my angel feel good?” yunho taunts breathlessly, even though he already knows the answer. he knows your body like the back of his hand, already knows what you like and dislike.

“mmfh—” is all you manage to get out, yunho continuously curving his fingers and abusing that spot inside you.

“hmm?” yunho purrs. “tell me you like this angel—tell me you love the way i make you feel.”

his fingers curl again, this time hard and commanding. “fuck—! i—i love it—” you gasp out, legs attempting to close around his hand.

he leans back and grabs hold of one of your legs with his free hand, prying your entrance open again and continuing his abuse on your g-spot whilst thumbing at the sensitive bud of your clit. “and—?”. a cocky grin spreads on his face, speeding up, the wet sounds your cunt emits obscene.

your mind is as blank as your vision. “a—and the way you make me feel—” you manage to get out, a louder moan taking over and cutting your words off. his pace is unrelenting, and you can almost feel the swell of your climax threatening to burst.

yunho notices, and while he’d love to have you cum on his fingers over and over again like a stupid slut, he needs to feed his own pleasure too.

to your devastation, he pulls his fingers out, a line of slick sinfully connecting his fingers to your gushing pussy. “wow…” he breathes out under his breath.

your entrance and thighs are soaked now, underwear that’s still pushed to the side coated in arousal.

yunho brings his slick covered fingers up to his mouth, poking his pink tongue out to taste. his tongue swirls in between the two fingers while he keeps eye contact with you, and heat spreads onto your entire face. you secretly loved when he used to always do that, but his dark eyes watching you while he did it always sent a rush of embarrassment through you.

he can’t help it. he brings his face down to your entrance before you can react, licking a long stripe up your slick covered folds and sucking at your clit.

“hah—! yunho!” you squirm, hands flying to his hair. his eyes crinkle when you pull him off, and he lets out a small laugh.

“sorry angel, you’re addicting.” he looks up at you through the bangs his hair. “take it all off for me.”

you comply, slipping the rest of your undergarments off. the soft click of your bra and the rustle of yunho taking off his own clothes are the only sounds circling the hotel room right now. you make sure to eye as he unfastens his tie, the motion always so attractive and further fuelling your need for him.

when you’re fully bare, yunho leans over you again. he plants a soft kiss on your forehead that he knows makes you melt. you feel his breath fan over you face when he moves a little lower, gently pressing his soft lips against yours.

“my pretty girl…” he cooes. “you’ve always been so gorgeous mm?”. there’s a twinkle dancing in yunhos eyes as he stares at you.  

warmth spreads across your cheeks yet again, but you’re past hating him. right now, all you can feel is the feeling you felt when you were with him, when he made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. he looks at you like you’re the answer to his entire life, like there’s nobody else except you two. “mmh…” you hum, whining and trying to get to the point.

yunho spits into his hand, pulling himself off of you and the bed so he can stroke once. twice. you watch him in awe, the sharp lines of his broad body moving elegantly under the dim lighting. the city outside glows, but the entire world is in this hotel room. this moment right now. just you and yunho.

he lines himself up, letting out a soft hum of approval when his tips meets your entrance that clenches around nothing.

you take a deep breath, preparing for the intrusion. when he sheathes himself in slowly, your walls convulse and stutter around him. he feeds his cock through your hole ever so gently, letting you adjust to the stretch of his thickness. your hips squirm when he grabs hold of your waist, holding himself back from pushing in without a care in the world.

when his cock fully rests inside you, you let out the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, a loud gasp leaving your lips. the air in your lungs feels like it’s been punched out, replaced by his hard, thick length.

“f—fuck yunho..” you moan out, legs tightening around his waist. he stays still inside you, watching the space where you two connect. his eyebrows are furrowed, jaw slightly slack when he feels the way your tight walls envelop him. arousal leaks out sinfully, further wetting his cock and creating a sloppy mess.

he looks up at you, making sure your eyes meet. “you okay angel?”

you nod slowly, though there’s an almost pained look in your eyes. there’s a pout on your lips that yunho adores, and he can see your eyes shining with tears that dare to fall.

“my angel..” he smirks. he looks down again, experimentally rolling his hips. he grinds into with such little movement, yet it feels like he’s splitting you open. your hands grab at the sheets beside your head, gripping and pulling, anything that eases the feeling of his cock stretching your walls.

when his speed gradually picks up, his fingers around your waist tighten and flex. you can feel the constraint behind his movements, like he’s holding himself back from going insane and ruining you until you can’t walk. sharp, short breaths leave his mouth, borderline groaning at the feeling of you.

he keeps his gentler pace until he feels you clench around his cock, sending pleasure ricocheting through his body and to his core. you mewl, head thrown back in euphoria.

his restraint loosens. he starts plowing into you, cock hitting a spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

you immediately cry out, hands flying to his lower stomach to push at him. “y—yunho stop…” you manage to get out in between strained moans, back arching off the bed when you feel how deep he is. “can’t—mmh—take it—”

yunho cuts you off with a sharp thrust, hands leaving your waist to grip at your wrists. he slams them back into the bed on each side of your head, keeping his rough thrusts in tune as you squirm. lewd noises fill the room, skin slapping on skin echoing into the space. your legs try to close and tighten, but his upper body pressing into yours keeps you in place perfectly.

“hm? you want me to stop angel?” yunho purrs, panting. the dark of his eyes pierce into yours with an intensity that makes your stomach coil, feeling the familiar tickle of your previous orgasm building again.

you can only shake your head, another sharp gasp leaving your lips as he hits that sweet spot.

he keeps your wrists firm against the bed beside your head, roughly slamming into you with a pace that never lets up. his thrusts are a bittersweet burn dragging against your insides, a scar that still remembers your name. he fucks you like a day has never passed where he wasn’t thinking of you, like your absence haunts him every night.

“m—missed this angel” yunho gasps, hands tightening around your wrists. “m—mmfh—missed you”

a broken noise leaves your lips, and you can’t tell if it’s a moan of pleasure, pain, or both. tears start to form again, this time so forceful they roll down the sides of your face, seeping into your hair that’s splayed messily on the bed. you can’t even answer him, you can only the study the lines of his face you had burned into your memory. you’d tried so hard to forget about this, forget about him. but every time you close your eyes, all you can see is him.

he doesn’t stop his rhythm, still pinning you down and destroying your insides, each slap of his skin on yours feeling like a punishment. like walking the plank into the dark sea that he is.

“i—i missed you too.” you softly admit through your lewd noises.

the moment shatters like your heartbeat misses a beat, violently then all at once. the rest of yunhos body make it onto the bed so fast you can barely think before he slips in again, quickly filling the emptiness he left behind.

“my girl.” he smirks. he pulls back and rests his hands around your waist again, this time pulling you to meet his thrusts. the force is brutal and bruising, sharp and sweet all at the same time.

you scream. your back arches in a way you didn’t know was possible, his legs that are now planted on the bed giving him new leverage to abuse your pussy. “yeah? you like it better like this angel?” yunho teases, eyes low and sultry.

you can barely hear him over your own struggle and the writhe of your body, paired with the hot seep of your tears that continue to fall delicately around your face. your legs pull up even closer to your chest, folding your body almost impossibly.

“mm..” yunho purrs, using your thighs to sheathe his cock as deep into you as possible with each thrust. his fingers squeeze at the skin, sending inklings of pain that fuel the knot in your stomach. he looks absolutely stunning like this, small strands of hair stuck to his forehead and a faint glimmer in his eyes.

he grabs at your legs to put them on his wide shoulders. he knows this is your favorite position, dropping his head into your calf and kissing at the skin. his pace is still bruising and quick, and you know if he keeps going you won’t last much longer.

“y—yunho” you whine, barely able to say his name. “n—need to—cum”.

he eyes flick over to your face, cheek still squished against your leg. a small smirk tugs at his lips, flashing his teeth before he shuts his eyes and presses a few more mindless kisses to your leg.

he bends forward, arousal practically dripping onto the bed below you. your legs are almost beside your head now, and you can feel the deep ache of his cock pressing into your soft spot. his thrusts never once falter, still continuing the same pace that drives you closer and closer.

he does something unexpected. between his thrusts he leans down to kiss the tears at the corners of your eyes, leaving little kisses on your cheeks, nose, and forehead. he pants a little in between, but the feeling replicates the safety you used to feel with him. warmth swells in your chest and you can’t help but let more tears fall, feeling his lips brush softly at the spots on your face, a contrast to his bruising thrusts.

“c—close—m’close yunho…” you breathe out, feeling his hips start to falter too.

“yeah? look at me angel” yunho pants, looking deep into your eyes. there’s a fucked out look you give him that always drives him over the edge, and he can never forget that look in your eyes that he missed so much. “finish with me” he whispers.

with a few more sharp thrusts and the feeling of your cunt quivering around him, his hips stutter then stop as deep as possible inside you to let his own release out. when you feel his cum painting your walls white, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just walked into a lions den, like you’ve officially flipped back to an old chapter that left you in this state. breathy moans leave his lips in time with yours, your heavy moans and sharp breaths filling the silence.

“f—fuck” yunho whispers, not wanting to leave the home he’s created inside you yet. cum leaks out of the space where you two connect, and the fullness you feel is evident to anything you’ve ever felt before. his cock is still twitching, helplessly moving inside you as the two of you come down from your highs, chests rising and falling.

when yunho finally pulls back to look at you, he sees the way your eyes are reddened and your lips are swollen, staring at him like you need him to tell you what to do next. his favourite look on you.

you open your mouth to speak. “i’m—”

“shh..” he cooes. “i’ve got you angel…i’ve got you”. one of his hands make their way on top of your hair, petting and soothing you, putting his chin on your forehead.

you can’t even continue your protest. you love it here. you love the feeling of being in his strong arms again, love how he cages you under him and holds you like he needs to protect you. you press a nimble kiss to his neck, one that tells him he fucked you like you needed him to, like that was enough to forget about what he did. because it almost is.