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seventhcallisto · 4 months

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Chapter VIII — "sensitive."

Deep down.

A/n: MDNI!!! MATURE CONTENT! smut under the cut. It's literally pure filth for jongho. There is absolutely no plot in this except for jongho being whipped. It's a lot. Bear with me!!

Toc + cw: semi-hard dom jongho(through the first half)/switch jongho. sub/switchy reader. guided masterbation (f. Receiving) fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (*gasps of false shock*) biting, boob worship, marking, slapping(ONCE), backshots(drink!), tummy bulge...., jonghos' mouth is kinda filthy, jjong has a noona kink low-key. There's a slight breeding kink in there, knotting!! Tugging!!, lots of cum, aftercare, big dick jongho, snuggly jongho, fluff!! Love you's after smex.

pet names/nns: doll, pretty, jagi(ya), noona, c0ck wh0re(once), little/cub (yours). jjongie, jjong, alpha, teddy bear (jongho's). min, (mingi's).

Wc: 8.6k

Jongho has an attitude that's hard to see, a personality that can be hard to grasp. That's what he's heard before, what he's read before- and he finds it accurate. Every time he says that, he remembers all the times you've caught him, as if he shared his feelings on his sleeves. The way your eyes scan him whenever you notice the tiniest detail is off, it's happened a lot.

You'd be kind enough to gift the young alpha a blanket if he seems to be curling in on himself a little more than usual. How you'd slip your hot pack into his palms if you catch him rubbing them together, when you'd make sure he was able to get a word in if his eyes seemed to light up at the topic of conversation, that's when he began yearning for you. Your simple affections had caught the alpha by storm. Taking care of him like you were his noona. It wasn't so simple when his friends began noticing it too.

Commenting on how often the two of you went viral for things that seemed more lovey-dovey than normal. How'd they ask occasionally if he was courting you yet, often in alpha traditions that had been abandoned decades ago. His friends could see jongho being old fashioned. Hell, even he himself could see that he preferred the tradition of courting. Maybe that's why he began doing it oh so subtly. Comforting you when you're nervous. Handing you anything he seems good enough for you. Sharing his clothing.

Buying you things, food, clothing, jewelry. He felt sick to his stomach with anxiety as you opened everything he gave you. Just wishing for your approval.

He had been courting you in his own way, unbeknownst to you and him. But in reality, he knew he was courting you, why else would he stop to look at a matching set of promise rings? He just didn't want to be rejected, so he kept it to himself. Kept his yearning to a minimum. And pretended like his heart didn't race when you called his name.

You had so casually swayed over, taking his hands in your own and spinning back and forth. You circled him as he sang. The caressing of your hands over his shoulders and waist as you leaned into him happily. Bouncing on the balls of your feet. Your group's song playing over the speaker. You all had just won an award. Yet the only thing jongho could keep his eyes on was you bouncing and swaying to the beat over his shoulder. Smiling brightly. Mumbling the lyrics into your mic flawlessly along with him.

Perhaps that's when jongho realized he was in love with you, or that he had known he would never love anyone else like he did you.

You trust jongho to guide you through the door of his shared room. Hands never leaving your hips, sliding down to nudge against the hem of your shorts just on the curve of your back. Strong and heavy and pushing you backwards, a waltz you can't see or predict because he's suffocating you with his tongue, shoving it around your own and swiping up every little noise you let out. Telling you to be quiet, so the other members can't see or hear you two entering their bedroom.

Jongho thought for a minute to take you on the counter in the bathroom, but why do that, when he could have his sheets covered in your scent? It'll give him something to remember. His hands pry the hoodie off, the shirt sticking to your skin, it's tossed somewhere in the room. Once your foot hits the edge of his bed you're falling atop it, splayed out so prettily in a daze for the younger alpha. Your hands reach for him, gripping the end of his shirt as you try to pull him above you.

He's staring and he knows he's staring. Your eyes squint, shyly. “Don't look at me like that” you mumble with your oh so swollen lips, he has a hard time stopping his lip from jolting up into a guilty smile, his hands coming around to grip the edge of the bed next to your thighs. “I'm allowed to stare, you're beautiful” he says honestly with a dreamy sigh, ignoring your protest, he goes on, holding eye contact as he’s leaning over your form with his strong arms that flex against the shirt he wears. He looks you over once for the go ahead, brown eyes caring and attentive. “Hurry jjongie” you huff.

His hands are rough, pulling your shorts and underwear off in one go, fingers digging their way down around the plush of your outer thighs. You whimper when you almost come off the bed, legs falling between jonghos. Again he stares, his hands sliding up to round up your thighs in his thicker hands and part them, your glistening cunt on display from the angle he bends your thighs to the side at. As he does you shift back to scoot up the bed. It's no use cause he holds you there, you're getting shy, legs attempting to close.

“Don't, I want to see you.” His eyes peek up from where you're leaking, his teeth prying his lip to hold back. You shake your head. “Stop staring” you mumble, turning your head away from him and closing your eyes. His hand snakes up your jaw, tugging you back to look at him.

“Show me how you play with yourself” he demands, eyes piercing. Your heart thumps out, jaw falling slack in his grasp. He pries your hand from the sheets of his bed, guiding it up to his lips. He's using his own fingers to guide yours into his own mouth, eyes prying as he gathers the slick on his tongue over your own digits, you let him guide you, a satisfied groan slipping past his lips when your knuckles bump the ridge top of his mouth.

He takes them out not a second after he deems them lubed up enough. His eyes cascade down your body, dipping your fingers along with his, he places them over your cunt, leaving them there for you to go on.

“Show me” his eyebrow shoots up as he demands again, eyes slotting from your flush expression back to the fingers he left over your cunt. He wants a show. And you're gonna give him one. You push them to open your lips, sighing softly. You slip one of your fingers in, then a second one, and pump them slowly. Gathering your palm to rub circles against your neglected clit.

He laughs lightly, it's a teasing sound, one that has you clenching your thighs close. He pulls them open again easily. “Come on doll, you can do better than that” he hums, glancing up at you. His hands come over to press against the curves of your thighs. Lifting you up so he can see you better, it's lewd and an exposing position that has you biting your tongue to hide any embarrassing noises.

He scoffs, using one of his hands to grip your jaw, it's not tight, just enough to get you to part your mouth open. There's a pinch in his eyes, a glint that has you staring back wide eyed. “Don't hide. Let me hear you.” His round eyes are piercing, he thumbs your palm out of the way to circle his thumb against your clit, slow agonizing circles that have you arching up into your own fingers.

“Jjongie-” You gasp when his thumb leaves, eyeing him up as he continues to look down at your cunt. His fingers prod your opening, that's when your jaw falls slack. He's pushing two of his digits in with your own, rubbing against the underside of your knuckles with his wider and heavier fingers.

“I didn't tell you to stop” he mumbles, pushing your thigh up again with his free hand that was just on your jaw. He's still digging his way inside, wiggling you open with little angled thrusts of his fingertips. “Keep going doll, use your fingers” you slowly pump them in again with his command, feeling the underside of his own fingers against your own steadily being slicked up. You feel a bit full with four fingers inside you, reaching for that spot that you can hardly reach.

Jongho seems to understand what you're doing, your own little moans picking up the farther you try to reach. “Mm, can't reach jagi? I'll help you” he shushes you softly. When he starts moving them you whimper, they're pressing down to move past your own, although you've had four cocks that are a thousand times bigger than your fingers, you miss how full you've been. Your stomach turns in knots, trying to reach an orgasm that's not gonna come without jonghos help.

You're slipping your fingers slightly out of your walls before you can even realize why. Jongho stops moving, gripping your wrist with his hand that's halfway buried inside you, stilling your fingers from coming out any more. “Where do you think you're going?” He scoffs, eyeing you as if you had the nerve to even pull yourself out. “Jongho-” You hiccup when he bottoms his fingers inside you, pistoning them to the hilt, a steady rhythm he begins setting himself as he grinds them over your other fingers. His free thumb digging into your clit.

“You don't listen,” he sighs, falsely upset. “Need me to do it all by myself” he whines into his words quietly. Thick thighs coming up to part your thigh over his lap. You twitch as he catches speed, free fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling them in and out with his own, getting you to open up. Your walls clench and unclench in a rhythm. When jonghos thumb drives your clit up and down in faster circular movements your face scrunches up.

He's got his fingers so deep in you, digging your own so deep in with his. Dragging them in and out and trying to pry for your g-spot. He reaches it easily with his own, feeling you jolt when he prods the spot.

“there it is, that wasn't so hard” he coos. You're gasping as he bullies the spot, fingertips prodding it for reactions. Your thighs are clenching hard, twitching at the stimulus.

“jongho m-” your orgasm washes over quickly, legs attempting to close because it's too much. He keeps his bullying pace, digging his fingers in to stretch your orgasm until the last drop.

You're panting as he finishes and pulls his fingers out with yours, gasps falling off the tip of your tongue. That was almost world shattering, he was rough- not like you didn't enjoy it, but the slapping of his palm against your sensitive cunt left you feeling tingly.

“What do you say, pretty?” he places your fingertips on his tongue, sucking your juices off. He hums when he takes them out, kissing up your stomach to where your shirt has ridden up. You wiggle, panting gently into the air. He wants you to thank him for your orgasm. It's authoritative- yet you like it.

“Thank you”

He hums against your skin. “You're so welcome little cub” he says with such fondness the tone behind it doesn't catch your ears. He's lifting his fingers under your shirt, kissing the skin as it becomes more revealed the more he pulls it up. It's agonizingly slow. Taking his time with you. Memorizing your skin against his lips. The bottom stops just short of the roundness of your breasts.

He kisses the plumpness of them from where they pool out, teeth nibbling on them the next second. You audibly jolt, gasping lightly. Your hands move to thread through his hair. Tugging on the soft strands. He seems to grow impatient, cause in the next second he's hiking your legs up his waist and pushing you further up the bed. Helping you remove wooyoung's shirt.

Jonghos plump lips still remain glued to your chest, kissing around your prickling skin, against the hardening expansions of your nipples. He's using both of his hands to grip them, the fat pooling between his thick fingers.

You can make out the pattern of his lips following the shape of a heart, he takes the nub of your hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and tugging. You bite your lip, crying behind a whine. You squeeze him tighter, grinding up into his sweats over his stomach. He hums back, gravelly and heavy, glancing up to look you in the eyes. He pays equal attention to both of them. Rolling them in his hands. Warm and hot at the same time.

“Jongho” you pout “need you” he pops off your nipple with a smile, kissing the irritated skin. “Where?” He asks, kissing up to your neck, in search of the spot that has you clenching. He'll leave a mark, only cause he knows you don't have any activities soon. And because he can't help it. He wants to mark you as his- as theirs. To tell anyone else to fuck off. Just to fulfill that urge to be possessive of you.

You pout despite knowing he can't see it. “Inside” you mumble quietly. Jongho seems to catch it, head placed right on the swell of where your neck meets your shoulder. Breathing against your skin as his fingers rake up the length of your body. Mapping out every inch of you. He slides them down to your hips, sitting up quickly. You're being flipped over before you can gasp, jongho using his strength to move you.

“inside right?” He leans over you, breathing against your head propped up on his pillow. His erection skims the plump of your ass, making you lean into him. It's all jongho in his bed. Laundry, florals, all consuming. You dig your face into it some more. “Yes” you wiggle your hips to caress against his bulge. Teasingly so. He curses under his breath. Jongho works behind you, stripping off his shirt and sweats in an array of fabric noises. If you could peek, you would. But he's already lifting your hips up to slot a pillow under your pelvis, making you more leveled with him.

You know exactly what he's doing, teasing you by staying out of view. You whimper when his hands spread your cheeks open. It's like his eyes leave a trail of heat on you.

“Been wanting to do this since you put on that show earlier” he scoffs, edging into a smile. The slick of his cock tip digging into the underside of your cunt makes you clench, he's gathering your slick to rub it along his length. He must be referring to when you lightly grazed your legs on the inner side of his thighs.

“You're so sensitive” you mumble through the haze, jongho stops, and maybe then you realize you're actually talking back. “Say that again doll,” jongho encourages, hands grasping your thighs right under the swell of your ass. There's a tone there. He squeezes tightly. “i- I didn't mean it-” you wiggle, wishing for that added pressure of his cock again. He smacks your cheek once, the flesh stinging. You yelp into the pillow placed under your head.

“Sure you didn't? Huh?” He's mean, mumbling into his words as he pulls his dick between your lips again, poking and prodding your hole with tiny gasp and a drawn out groan. “sensitive,” he repeats what you say.

“We'll see who's sensitive.” there's no build up to the way jongho flattens his hips against your ass or the way his cock slides in easily, you're soaked, his pillow too. You gasp at the complete size of him, clawing up on the pillow as if it's going to save you from sinking further as jongho pushes his full length in. His groan is cut off, head falling into your shoulder as he props himself above your back.

He digs his free hand that's not holding him up to under you, sliding it down to press against your stomach. You choke as he presses down on his bulge, there's an indention from his cock nestled against your walls.

“Feel that?” He breathily says, pulling out til the tip of him sticks in, you whine at the loss, loosing his wide length as he goes. It's not long he's gone, hand still over the spot he once was at before he's plowing back into you. Hips snapping. “That's how deep I am” he groans when his tip prods his palm.

You flutter, chest heaving as you throw your hips back to meet the hard and bruising pase jongho is setting. He knows his own strength, he has his own self control. Somehow he isn't using all of it to rearrange your guts. “So tight, already had four cocks- and you're still this tight?” He grumbles. Lips falling over your ear, your head digs down, gasps and moans that get cut off cause of every slap of jonghos hips.

It's loud, it's sticky, and your slick is already coating jonghos dick and thighs.

“You're so messy” he sits up to gaze down at your cunt, using your back as leverage to lean his wide palm. Your hips meet every thrust of his, guiding him in easily.

You're clenching around him, whimpering into the pillow. “I bet you get off on this noona, having all your members plow their way into you. You're our cock whore now, yeah?” his eyes never part from your wet core. He's scoffing when you squeeze, clearly enjoying his words. You can't even respond, already too lost in jongho to think.

“You do” he hums, groaning shamelessly into the back of his palm as it comes around to cover his mouth. He's so loud already, he really can't control it. Attempting to bite back every groan that slips, “bet they enjoy it just as much as you do.” he leans over, squishing you completely with his body weight, the angle is harder to move in, so instead you just let jongho use you.

“gonna take you every rut and use you, just like this” jonghos fantasies are seeping into every word. Who knows where these new feelings came from, or the way he's bullying you as his cock gives you exactly what you want.

“shit- keep you so full.” There's a louder breathier moan that comes from his mouth, when he completely digs his dick back in, bottoming out every thrust. His hands come around to the sides of you, knees planted firmly on each outer side of your thigh. Heavy and rutting up every time he thrusts forward.

You can feel his skin scrape against your own, warm and new, skin that you haven't ever felt before from jongho. “Want to-” you moan quietly, “see you” you whine when he pulls out, length taken away and leaving you alone without him to fill you.

You're flipped back over onto your side as jongho comes behind you, spreading your thigh over his hip. He kisses your shoulder as he lines himself up again, throbbing against his fingers as he guides it in. You sigh as you're filled again. Head falling against his chest, just under his chin. He grabs the leg on your hip and widens you further, scrunching your leg up under his strong arm.

“Can't- jongho- alpha-” You whimper at the stretch in your muscles. “I need to be able to reach you jagi” he sighs, groaning through his words. His palm falls over your stomach again where the dent of him lies inside. His thrusts are slower this time, no doubt trying to hold off his orgasm. You're already so close to your own, even before he pulled himself out.

With every hard twitch of his thighs, he's slipping in and out of you. A heavy thump as he hits your cervix at the perfect angle. You gasp every time, tingling building up in your gut. You reach your arm behind you to hold him, threading it into the back of his head where his soft hair is. “Want you to cum, you got too.” he whimpers, the first time he has, just as your eyes take over his. Warm and lustful and round, more softer than they were minutes ago. The sight is peeling an orgasm out of you that has you shaking in jonghos grasps.

Jaw falling open. Jongho takes it as his opportunity to cut you off with a sloppy kiss, his heavy rhythm picking up. Both of his hands come around to grip the bulge of your stomach, dropping your thigh back over his hip. “Just like that- ah. fuck.” He curses quietly, thrusts slowing and becoming sloppy, he bottoms completely inside you. Knot swelling and keeping you close, jongho pulses inside you, hard. His head falling against the pillow next to you when his eyebrows scrunch and his own jaw falls slack. A shuddered gasp pulling from his throat.

A lot of his cum pools deep in you, even so much as spilling out around jonghos knot, you shudder at the warmth, hot and thick and consuming your insides with just jongho.

You grasp for his hand as you come down with him, he reaches back out, smoothing his palm over your tummy and gathering your fingers between his own. Adoring eyes scanning your features, your face shows no discomfort, just sleepiness. It's quite often you get tired after sex, and just like jongho everyone has noticed this. “Are you tired?” Jongho asks with a quiet sigh, planting a kiss on your temple. He's kept himself up, front pressed to your back so you can remain close.

You shake your head. “‘m comfortable, I like being full” you almost purr. Lost in your own afterglow. The younger alpha digs his nose into your shoulder; breathing in your scent as he looks across your body. Hickeys and bite marks align your neck, reaching your most sacred primal spot. They trail all the way down your breasts like patches of butterflies, stopping just below the bottom most round spot of your breasts. Your stomach is completely untouched, left to look round and untainted.

Jongho internally laughs, as if the spot were to be filled. Left untainted so it could be full of pups and cum, their pups. And their cum.

His hips jolt forward. You jump too. Jongho shushes you, softly apologizing. “Sorry, can't help it” he whimpers softly, head digging into your shoulder to calm himself. You press back against him, already asking for more softly. “jongho” you preen when the alpha kisses your neck, head pulling to the side. When you clench his hand over your stomach, jongho feels you flutter around him. A shudder sigh being pulled out of his lungs. “m- please, please move jjongie. Need more” you whimper, already swinging your hips back into him.

He shudders, head pulling out of your neck to look at you, gripping your hips. “You have all of me, pretty, i'm already so deep,” he builds a slow thrust, knot still pulling against you, your breath hiccups at the stretch when he pulls too far out, threatening to take his knot with him. He never does though, pulling it all the way back in, but only slightly out as he slowly works his cock in and out of you. Gradually bringing you two to that edge, even if your thighs are shaking from overstimulation.

You fall halfway over onto your stomach to hide your face into the pillows, jaw falling slack in a silent whine. You're so close, just barely any friction on jonghos part and you're already gonna cum. jongho follows you body with his own, leaning onto his knee to prop himself back over you, gasping short as you spasm around his cock. “jjongie- just like that- gonna cum” you warn him, he hums, strangled as he bottoms completely in you in another heavy thrust. The squelch of your already mixture of cum creating sticky sounds against your bodies. Jonghos eyes cloud over as he stares. It's a sight he prefers over everything else, your slick and his cum is gathering along his length and over your pussy, every time he pulls out more comes with him.

He audibly whimpers when you squeeze him again, overstimulating himself, his knot is not helping. It's painful but it's so good. The perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. “I'm gonna cum- You're gonna take all of it right?- ah. mm.” he bites on his lips to stiff any moans. “Cumming- ah- jongho” you gasp with a call of his name, fingers straining against his sheets. In the midst of going through it, you're flipped back into your side as jongho drapes himself completely over you, pushing your hips as he bends down to bite on your collarbone. Teeth digging deep, his hand once holding him up pulls your face into his neck, signaling you to do the same.

You tremble as you flutter around his cock, overstimulated in the best way. Your bite is wide, positioned a bit too close to a spot he can't hide well. Oh well. Hoodies and crewnecks it is. Jongho cums quickly after a few more shallow thrusts with your name falling off his tongue. Cum painting your walls in more of his scent, it gathers and works to push around his knot, pooling under your pelvis and ruining the sheet. He whimpers into your skin, pulling his teeth back enough to kiss the quickly bruising and deep spot, shallow thrusts as he guides you both through the aftermath.

You tap out quickly after, pushing against his hips as best you can. “too much-” you whimper, panting, jongho sighs as he falls on top of you. Clearly hoping you'd say that. His hands landing on either side to support himself up so he isn't squishing you, breathing harshly against your back. He swallows heavily.

“who's sensitive now”

You laugh lightly, tilting your head up so you can look at him, his boba eyes are endearing, forehead shiny with sweat. “shut up” your hand snakes around his neck, pulling him back in for a sweet kiss. A loving peck that lasts a second of comfort before you're falling back into the pillow, completely lost of strength. Jongho levels down with you, attempting to hold himself up. He's trying. It's not working well, his limbs are slowly becoming jelly.

“Move over” he asks with a kiss on your neck, eyes never leaving your lax face, you peek your eyes open and sigh, struggling to turn in his grasp, you both struggle for a solid second, attempting to rearrange your limbs without hurting the knot tied between you two. You both just end up sideways, facing each other in a mix of limbs. You're able to actually see jongho and all his beauty, he hides all of that under clothing, yet maybe you want him too. He's built like a god. You might actually get too distracted by him (more than you already do) if he were to wear anything more revealing than what he already wears.

“Remind me to take a picture next time” you joke, finger running along his bicep, memorizing the relaxed muscles under his skin and the way the muscles gather shadows. Jongho laughs lightly, eyes heavy with sleep. He watches you watch him, like he always has. Unbeknownst to you. You're his moon and stars. The prettiest thing in the world to him- most perfect too. You don't have to be actually perfect; he loves you as you are. His noona, his member, and his hard working friend. Friend isn't even the right word for jongho to describe your relationship. It's more so.. much more than that. It's a lot words can't describe.

His arm is curled under his head against his own pillow, his other hand reaching to pick up a piece of your hair and stroke it behind your ear. His thumb rubbing against your cheek. His gummy grin is nothing short of beautiful in your eyes when you make eye contact. Jongho has never been one for touch, but being mere inches apart; completely revealed to each other, you can't help but want to hold him like the big bear he is. Run your hands through his hair and kiss around his face until he's red.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks so quietly, you find it hard to believe he even did. You smile, nodding eagerly and shuffling into his embrace some more, hands enrapturing his neck to bring him in. He holds your face with his heavy palm, leaning down to passionately take your bottom lip between his. A slow sinatra that tells him exactly what he wanted to know and you the same. Both of your eyes close as you bask in each other's lips.

He pulls away with an extra breath against your lips, his hand falling away to rub against your shoulder. Soothing it in circles. Your own hands rubbing his neck, thumbing over the mole that you love to stare at. You lean up to kiss it softly, nuzzling your face under his chin affectionately. He lets you despite the racing of his heart, despite you being able to pull away and leave if you want. If you both want. His knot is gone but you're still with him.

The tissues on jonghos nightstand are soft enough to use to clean up, they're of great quality. He gently prys it from your hand as you reach for them and sits up to smooth it over your thighs, gathering yours and his fluids. He's a lot quicker than you're used to, a little rough as he swipes it over your still sensitive and soiled hole. You groan and he apologizes under his breath, tossing the last of it away after cleaning himself off, only the most soaked spots though. He grabs his sweats and shoves them on as he gets up.

He doesn't go far, the trash can by his bedside table is conventional. He takes your face in his hands when he leans over and kisses you deeply, just once before he's getting up and quickly gathering clothes from his drawer. His round eyes every so often flickering to you, as if you'll run away. As if you can. You laugh lightly at the thought, tucking yourself against his bed and pillows. You curl up with one of them, sighing heavily, avoiding the wet patch on jonghos bed.

Speaking of wet patch, jongho comes back with a pair of shorts and a tee on, you miss the skin, but his comfort is most important. He kisses your head when he leans over, hand placed over your back. He's touchy, so touchy. You love it, yet you're scared it'll only last so long. Scared of reciprocating it too much or else he'll flee.

“Look at me” jongho calls your name, interrupting your inner thoughts. You hum as you turn to your side. Jonghos palm falling across your cheek to turn your head towards him. “What's wrong?” Are you that obvious? You sigh “i- I'm just kinda, scared i'll touch you wrong” well. That's not exactly what you meant to say, but it's good enough. Jonghos eyebrows furrow. “Oh, jagi” he laughs at you softly, you go to turn away, suddenly embarrassed. “We just had sex and you're worried about touching me?” jongho voices his thoughts, head falling over your shoulder as he continues to giggle. “Nevermind,” you mumble, attempting to turn away in his grasp.

Jongho smooths his palm against your tummy, turning you back over to face him. “You can touch me, anytime” he responds softly. “Just be careful, we're still idols,” he jokes. You shake your head. “You're unbearable” you pout. “I know cub, but I'm not the one getting shy over touching” he slides in next to you, smiling wide. Eyes scrunching. Picture perfect as usual. His brown hair is hardly a mess, his cream shirt hugs him just right, and his shorts are gathering his thighs up under the loose fabric. He's pulling you gently up by the shoulders to slip his shirt over you now. At a loss for some bottoms.

You really could care less about going without underwear when jonghos shirt is practically a nightgown. The dark fabric makes you look genuinely tiny. You smooth your hand over the fabric when jongho manages to pull a towel out of his dirty laundry, shoving it onto the wet spot. “Where's that towel from?” You scrunch your nose at him. “Brought it back from the gym”

That explains the heavy odor of sweat.

You chuckle, pulling your hair out of the collar of the shirt. “So manly” you hum teasingly. Jongho rolled his eyes, caging himself against your back when he went to lay down on the pillow next to you. “You like it though, I saw you staring” you turn, he's hiding his face smugly in the pillow. “Jongho” you huff, a loss for words. “I don't stare” you mumble, slinking down to lay face to face with him. He shakes his head with a smile and laugh, smoothing his hand over your back once again. “You so do,” he hums. “I do too,” he goes on to admit. You grin cheekily. “Really? How often? When?” You encourage, hoping to get him to start turning red. He's slowly getting there, eyes scrunching closed.

“All the time, when you can't see” he says with a heavy breath, his body relaxing as he admits to it. You smile gently at the confession. “I do too” he laughs lightly at your words, eyes peeking open. “I know you do, you're not very good at hiding it” he bites his swollen lip before he continues, eyes raking over your comfortable figure. “you just can't help yourself can you?” He teases.

You shake your head. “Not when it's you” your finger trails up his neck, pushing on his lips. He parts them for you, kissing the tip of the digit. You sigh. He's so pretty. Your thighs clench. “Jjongie” you call his name softly, eyes glancing over his figure as you struggle to sit up, facing him fully. “Yes?” He quietly responds, hands falling to follow you. “Can you give me one more? Just one? Please” you whisper, head falling to his jaw and sucking the skin there in a sticky kiss.

Jongho moans silently, jaw falling open, he moves to your whim. Holding your hips as you lean over him. You take the opportunity to kiss his mole and neck, trailing down to litter tiny hickeys around the bite you left. Marking him some more. Sucking and teasing the skin. He's breathy, head pulled to the side to let you. You're maneuvering to lay on top of him. Straddling his hips.

“Can i jjongie?” You reach for the hem of his shirt, he's nodding, way too quickly for his liking but he doesn't care, already pressing his shorts against your thigh so he has some relief from the growth in them. You help him work it off his head, he lands against the pillow. He sighs as you stare down at him. Lips pursing when your tongue sticks out to wet them. Jongho rolls his hips against you, cursing the fabric of his pants for being the only separation.

You're peeling your shirt off next, jongho helping you do so. Finally, he's taking time to feel you up, whenever his greedy hands can reach. His tough hands kneading the flesh of your breasts, his thumb rolls over your nipple. You buck, moaning his name quietly, he eagerly responds with his own breathy moan. Leaning up to ask for a kiss, his head falls back down when you smash your lips onto his, suffocating his groans in your mouth. You swirl your hips forward, grinding your cunt against his covered cock.

Jonghos face scrunches, jaw falling slack- completely open as he leans his head against the pillow. “Can't wait noona” he mumbles, reaching down to unhook his sweat strings. You help him, tugging down his shorts the rest of the way. Your hips wiggle in anticipation.

Jonghos dick is flush and red from the strain, bobbing against his lower stomach with need. He grips it, stroking it once to satisfy the ache if only for a second. You grip his hand, grabbing it with your own and squeezing. A whimpered gasp falling off his tongue. He calls your name. “I'm gonna put you inside now jjongie- gonna make us feel so-so good” you whimper at your own words, lining up the tip of him to your hole. He stutters up, holding your waist.

“no prep?” his eyes widened in concern. You kiss his face softly, thumbing over the slit of his tip. He whines softly, eyes fluttering. “Don't need it,, just need you” you whisper against his lips, toying with him. Your head falls over his as you sink your hips down. There's a slow stretch and you're stopping when he's hardly inside. He whimpers, resisting the urge to buck into you. To get himself fully inside your hot walls and paint you again with his cum and scent.

“Told you-” he gasps when your hips sink down a bit more, clenching and tensing around him. “You needed prep,” he cuts himself off, guiding his hands against your waist. You huff, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slack. “s’ too big jjong” you rock your hips, guiding yourself forward and breathing through the stretch. Jongho doesn't comment on the pride he feels or the smug feeling he gets hearing that from you. He helps as much as he can, breathing with you and stilling. His eyes lock with yours when his thumb smooths down over your stomach to circle your clit.

You try your hardest not to move, whimpering. You're seeping along his length, trying to draw him in with pulses of your cunt. “Stop squeezing me- oh. Shi-” he covers his noises by biting his bottom lip. “Gonna cum if you keep doing that” he looks back down at where he stretches you out. Rocking you slowly, back and forth to sink further, you fall down the rest of the way on your own. Gasping loudly when he bottoms out completely. You fall over his chest, grasping along his length as you dig your head down into his neck. Jongho kisses your neck, rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“too tight- ‘m moving? Okay? Gonna help you” he swirls your hips forward, gasping along with you. His hands capture your thighs, just under your hips to dig his blunt fingernails into you. He keeps the momentum until you're slightly lifting your hips up and dropping them onto him. The squelch makes jong buck, digging his length up to meet you. You moan his name next to his ear, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders.

His heels dig into the bed every time he thrusts up, rolling his hips with yours, there a pace you two are setting, sloppy. Just trying to get each other off quickly. His hand comes forward to circle your clit from between the both of you, dragging your ass up with his free hand to plant back onto his own thrusts. It's so short, cause you're already spasming around his cock. Crying at the wave of your orgasm already creeping up on you.

“Jongho-! JJongie gonna cum too quick-” you cry against his skin. He digs his fingers, all the more reason to continue his assault on your clit. “Just let go cub, I'm- mm- cum with you” he breathes out quickly, head thrown back in pleasure. His thighs shaking, he's so close, closer than you are, he's been holding it back the entire time.

You curl forward with a cry of his name, sobbing against his shoulder in ecstacy. Your thighs clench around his hips and waist roughly, trembling. Jongho grunts and moans as he stills inside you, rolling your hips back down onto him one last time to get himself all the way inside. His knot pops in the most gratifying way, sticking deep inside you whilst his load covers your womb. His neck is covered in sweat and so are your thighs. Everything feels sticky as you both breathe in unison.

“good?” Jongho laughs lightly, you laugh along. He whimpers dramatically when he feels you clench, mumbling how you shouldn't move as his fingers dig into your waist. You ignore his words, “s’was really good jongho, good job alpha” you compliment him, leaning off his chest to even out your shaky legs. He helps as much as he can, gripping you gently.

You hum with a comfortable sigh as you lay against his chest now. Legs locking up against him. Jonghos hand comes to hold your shoulder against him, fiddling with your palm. The light on the side of jonghos bed keeps you from sweet sleep. Jongho watches your face, relaxed and full of content.

“I love you”

He holds his breath, an accidental whisper of his real feelings. He ruined it- ruined the safe space he just made and completely broke down a wall that's supposed to be there, he tenses. You sigh softly; lip curling. “Love you too teddy bear”

It was bound to happen eventually, the stomping of feet in the hallway only gives enough time for jongho to pull his almost disregarded blanket over your bodies. His tough hands wrap around your shoulders protectively.

The only person to swing the door open is san, his hands holding the knob in a vice grip. His cheeks puffed up when he pokes his head in, eyes completely screwed shut to avoid seeing anything he didn't want too. “There's a hot shower waiting for you, not you” San attempts to point his finger in your direction then to jongho's, based on instinct he measures out where jonghos bed is. He's off by a lot. “Just so you two know it's rude to sneak off, I thought you were coming back” he pouts. Clearly missing you.

You smile into your words, cuddling closer to jongho for warmth against the cold and once abandoned blanket. “Be out in a lil bit, promise” you're surprised at how jongho didn't immediately throw something at san, yelling and telling him to get out. The younger alpha seems flabbergasted as San shuts the door.

His eyes lock back down to yours when you turn your head to see his face, his ears are red. The corner of his lips lifting as you stare, puzzled.

“Do you need company?”

Your shower is quick and easy, jongho helping you to clean up whilst he himself also cleans up, making sure you're able to stand on your own. It's sweet and innocent with him laughing every once in a while when he splashes you, you do the same back to him. He dries your hair gently, running the end of a comb to brush through what he can. He uses it on himself occasionally, warm air puffing up his bangs. He leaves with a towel wrapped around his waist and comes back wearing pajamas, different from the other ones he had on, a loose graphic gray shirt that only barely shows off the bite on his neck. Matching with a pair of heavy sweatpants. Your eyes glance over the bite, sticky with ointment that you insisted on rubbing along it, bruising hickeys lining up against his tan skin, you grimace.

“Jjong, what happened to your clothes?” Your eyebrows furrow, stopping the movement of rubbing ointment against the sensitive bites on your body. “You got them dirty love” he shrugs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily. He leans over to kiss your head. Basking in the height difference. You decide to just ignore his words, reaching for the clothing in his arms.

It's a pair of simple shorts and a shirt. A grey gym shirt? You glance up at jongho, the guy smiles shyly, hands creeping around your waist. It's fresh at least, still smells like jongho even though he hasn't worn it. You take a satisfied whiff and slip it on, pulling a pair of your own underwear on and lastly the dark shorts that are a bit too loose for you. They're not yours or jonghos. The length is too small for his taste.

“hongjoong?” you smell as his cologne wafts up to your nostrils, you shrug them on, tying the strings tighter before shoving the fresh pair of white socks on as well. “he wanted me to give them to you, to wear” he sighs, guiding you towards the hallway and shutting the light off behind you.

You smile at the younger alphas insisting to guide you, hands tugging yours with him. His larger palm is gripping around your wrist gently, rubbing against your scent glands.

The living room is noisy from the TV. Your nest comes into view as you both round the corner, jonghos hand slips from yours when he steps to the kitchen. You smile at the sight, seonghwa is practically laying halfway on hongjoong, sleeping, wooyoung on the other side of the leader. They're both on the far right of the nest, cuddled up with one of your blankets spread over each other.

Mingi and Yunho are sitting together on the propped up couch, probably taking interest in actually laying on it together instead of in it. Yeosang is laid face down in the middle of the nest, asleep on a pillow. San is placed on the far left of the nest, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. Yunho seems to have been drifting, before Mingi perks up and leaps.

“dibs!” He gathers you in his arms before san can spring up from next to yeosang. San pouts, hands thrown up in defeat. “You weren't even a part of the conversation!” mingi laughs quietly. His hands swing you back and forth in his embrace. You shake your head, having no clue what they were calling dibs on or talking about. You shuffle forward, mingi steps over the empty spots to pull you down onto the couch next to him.

You fall onto mingis lap, feet sticking out and onto yunhos. The sleepy member doesn't seem to mind, his hand curling around so he can hold your ankle. A soft caress of his fingertips over the glands there. You take a deep breath, relaxing against mingi. He tilts your head up, demanding your attention.

“hi min” you greet him, pecking his jaw softly, as if on instinct. He preens, grinning, his lips growing wider and more shy. “hi,” he simply responds, as if a school boy saying hello to a pretty girl. “So..” he starts quietly over the TV. A conversation being held only for the two of you. “Mhm?” Yunho chimes in as he seeps into the couch on the other side. “mingi and i were wondering if you wanted to do some size training tomorrow”

The mentioned male sputters, waving his hand as Yunho flat out says what's on his mind. Mumbles of “that's not.. well-” “i-.. it is, size training- i mean..” coming from behind you. Your eyes widen. If size training is what he truly believes it is, and knowing yunho is massive.. are they planning to… yunho smirks at your expression.

“You think you could take two?” Yunho's eyebrow quirks, genuine interest in his dark eyes. Can you take two? This discussion is so casual, at least they're warning you. “depends” you sigh, leaning into mingi shyly, a pillow brought across your chest so you can hold it. “you could hardly take me, even after i.. you know” yunho seems to grow shy. “it's easier now” your hand comes up to cover your face at your own words. “I.. think it has to do with my- slick?” Mingi shifts from under you, are you even using the right term?

Yunho hums, lip poking out as he thinks. “That's what seonghwa said,” Yunho nods, sighing. “It's still better to be prepared” yunho shrugs, his hand rubbing patterns against your ankle.

“When you do take two, we can know the signs if it's too much for you.”

Yunho's cock does happen to be the biggest in the group out of all you’ve seen, probably to match his size and height. He's just big overall. So if he's big, then mingi (according to your logic of alphas and having big dicks) might actually be massive to also make up for his size. The cute, giggly, wide eyed member who clings to you.. it's too much to think about.

You hum, wiggling on mingis lap. The man sighs, trying to get comfortable from under you. There's a bulge that he doesn't feel like mentioning, hard because you talked about having sex. It's embarrassing to him. “yeah, let's try, it's better when I'm not post heat hazy, after breakfast?”

Why are you scheduling sex? You don't know, but for some reason there's no awkward tension, just passive buildup. It feels like you're planning a date as a couple that has been together for years. Comfortable and tingling. You turn to look mingi in the eyes, he's beet red. Ears flushing under the lights of the TV. “What do you think?”

He nods quickly, a short conformational hum leaving his throat. It bobbles when he swallows thickly. You smile, a huff of air escaping your nose.

“We'll do some size training then” yunho nods, head falling back over the arm of the couch where a pillow is propped. You turn into mingis' side, enjoying his warmth and scent you haven't had on you in a long time. He jumps, hands jolting to lighten his grip just to let you move freely. “Nervous?” You tease.

Mingi smiles, his lips pulling down into a concerned grin, he slots back into his spot. “I might ruin you” he admits with a quiet sigh “I can be rough- I am rough” he's warning you. You glance up at his face. Heat pooling into your own.

You've heard it before, heard about mingi being too rough during sex. Especially during his ruts. He's broken plenty of rut sanctuary beds, you've had to pick him up to pay for it. His skin sticky with sweat and looking much more masculine than when the guys dropped him off. You have your license, yet all you can think about when you drive is how insanely hot mingi looked coming out of the alpha building block, you were probably a liability on the road at that time. His hair is messy on his head and his body completely reeks. He smelt like an alpha who had a tough brawl of it with himself. And he wouldn't even look you in the eyes.

Whatever toys or help they provide never seemed to do the trick cause he seemed much more frustrated and quiet being picked up. You'd ask him if he was feeling better and he'd completely ignore you. He hardly spoke to you afterwards, needing at least three days to recover his attitude. And even after then, you've heard rumors amongst your idol friends about mingi in bed, despite not wanting to know you couldn't help eavesdropping.

Your eyebrow quirks. “Is this your way of telling me you're a warning sign?” Mingi laughs lightly at that, you must be okay with it.

“I'm just letting you know, that's why yunho's there.” he thumbs your chin, his eyes growing more lax.

“To bring you back when it gets too rough”

I went off the deep end with this one !!!! Literally need to have jonghos babies immediately, I can be the perfect wife, please one chance, jongho!! I no longer feminism when jongho exists. Thanks to my cutie patootie @uhhheather and my pookie bear @hhoneylix for helping me thru some plot and some of the smut teehee!! Ily guys (kisses screen). Also.. size training with yunho n mingi?... mingi being rough?? I have so much to write oh lawrd.

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather (thanq u) @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix (ty, pookie) @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1 @lomons @rln-byg @mommahwa1117 @ddaeing @chngbnwf @mentoslol @spooo00oky @dawn-iscozy @ateezima @vannabanana1995 @fvlvy @caityelise99 @emmmui (thank u all! If the tag isn't working or i forgot to add u, please let me know ♥︎ if you want to be added to the taglist comment here -> ★ )

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 4 months

Text

Yves (yandere oc)

Tw: stalking, infantilization, obsessive behavior, reader cheating on yves hypothetically, gore

enjouy

Yves is a man who knows how to take care of himself well. Adorning expensive scents, maintaining his hygiene, and diligently attending his regular self-pampering saloon, manicure, and facial treatments. His skin is porcelain, supple, and free of any imperfections. His hair is full, lush, shiny, pitch-dark; soft, and smooth.

He is a man who values the importance of physical fitness, strength, and the sculpting of the body, daily exercise in his modest yet sophisticated home gym is a must. Though he also understands the essence of moderation in training, he has a towering stature with a lean, muscular frame; no one in the right state of mind would ever call him frail or weak. But no one would accuse him of taking performance-enhancing drugs either.

His fashion and mannerisms exude class and elegance. His aesthetic and tastes are nothing to scoff at, very few could meet his standards. Even if they could, it would be close to improbability to keep up.

He presents his best image of himself to the world every day without missing a beat. There is no such thing as 'sloppy' in his vocabulary. All things are done with such precision and care, his rouge immaculately lining his sultry lips. A dusting of bronze eyeshadow accentuated his emerald irises and sensual yet steely, calculating gaze. Clad in quality clothes that usually cover him from the neck down, he moves fluidly with them with such grace; as if it was his second skin. Yves dislikes having anything loud and overwhelming on him, his palettes are of black, white, greys, and neutrals. He does not like to stand out. But he will; in a room filled with commoners. As he seems ethereal.

His money matches his spoiled lifestyle. It is unknown what he does for a living, but what he brings in a night, is more than what a normal, middle-class worker earns in a decade. Yves prefers not to discuss about his line of work, however, all you need to know is that he works remotely; and his hours are extremely flexible. There are times, rare, but possible, that he has to physically travel to someplace. He would be away for days and come back as pristine as ever. However, to the trained eye, he comes back exhausted, irritated, and freshly scarred. Perhaps that is why he loves to conceal. He does it so well.

He loves so obsessively, so consumingly; and he hides it well. Yves notices each and every minute detail about you. From the number of breaths you take when you're calm versus in an agitated state, to the fidgeting between your index finger and thumb behind your back. All of it means something, and goodness, does it help to accurately predict your next move.

Without a doubt, he knows you more than anyone. Even yourself. You don't come even close to the knowledge he gathered on you. He would know what you're feeling before you even realize it. The body works faster than the brain, and the mind gives up before the body, as they say. He observes and appreciates what no one sees or deems important. You are under his constant scrutiny with or without your awareness. Yves knows what you like, he knows what you hate. He knows what you will like; he knows what you will hate; and he is never wrong. Not ever.

Drives upon digital drives of data are stored within his office, graphical statistics, images, annotations, hypotheses, diagrams, conclusions, and many more, of one study subject: You. Not all of them were stored in hardware. Yves has a library, bookshelves upon bookshelves of research-level papers in monstrously thick paper binders with him the sole author. There is a section where his information vault is full of academic papers related to you and your behavior, where he could appropriately draw conclusions and compare his findings with others.

His collection spanned over years, decades, even. He studies you intensively and he enjoys it. He reviews the extensive hoard of dossiers on you to keep his mind sharp, and memory fresh. All while you go on living your life normally, without suspecting something is awry. Everything you do is data. Precious data.

Yves knows what you want at any given moment and your words or awareness aren't necessary.

He orchestrated the ideal meeting sequence. Whether that be a meet-cute at the local cafe, a charming first encounter by picking your fallen papers after you 'accidentally' crashed into him, a flirty exchange that escalated into something more at a lonely bar, having his attractive dating profile appear on your monitor screen, being paired up as a classmate or colleague for a project, being your saving grace from an abusive home or partner, being your "blind" date your friend set you up with, as the religious, alluring man that takes your attention away from the lord at churches, the man who offered his umbrella when you're stuck in the rain, maybe even just starting off with innocent small talk in the elevator that leads to months of brief chatter, but no progress; all of it has one common denominator: it is specially tailored for you and no one else.

And you will inevitably fall for him. Yves knows you but you don't know him. He knows what gets you excited, flustered, giddy, and hot under the collar. Most importantly: he is patient. Like a predator stalking its' prey, his patience knows no bounds. He will not slip up and make a silly mistake because he wants you so badly. He absolutely does, but he is a man of discipline. Yves achieved full control over himself, and that is what made him so menacing. No human has ever done so except him.

Perhaps, you might be suspicious of him. You're pleasantly surprised when he dims the lights that have been irritating you for a while without you saying anything. Then, it happens again; Yves hands you a refreshing bottle of your favorite drink as you're starting to feel thirsty and lethargic. And again; he politely dismissed your friends when you're silently starting to feel sick of socially interacting with others. And again; You're cranky because you received an itchy or painful rash, maybe you live near stagnant water, and mosquitos are common. Yves would almost instantly relieve that by wordlessly applying a special ointment on your skin. He knows what to do.

And again; You're craving seafood, maybe. Then, tonight's date is at an exquisite restaurant that serves only the finest salmon, crabs, lobsters, and whatever else you might want. Lucky guess? And again; he toggles the control panel for the air conditioning unit to cool the room further. You then just realized you're starting to feel a bit too warm for comfort, but you haven't even broken a sweat yet, how did he know? This cannot be a coincidence.

It's delightful, not needing to ask. Not needing to demand or beg someone to make your life easier for you. Having a second 'you' doing the things necessary to keep you comfortable and happy. Having someone to read your mind.

But, then again. Someone is reading your mind. It can make one feel naked and vulnerable. As if, you can't even have the privacy of your own thoughts anymore. All that is visible and invisible is broadcast for everyone to witness. If you're the type to overthink, this could induce some sort of paranoia.

Bold of you to assume that Yves hasn't accounted for that yet.

If his calm, no-nonsense demeanor, reassuring smile, and gentle gaze aren't enough to lull you into a false sense of security; maybe his quiet, baritone, seductive voice with a charismatic coupling of a posh European accent would do the trick? It is quite possible that still wouldn't be able to soothe your nerves. No matter what, Yves always has something under his sleeve to overcome every obstacle in his way.

His body language is outstandingly alluring. He utilizes his looks and his hair, you might catch him leaning forward and playfully twirling a lock of his hair around his slender fingers. He appears to be tremendously interested in you and enamored by you. If that is what you like. Otherwise, he would keep his composure. Have a faint smile on his lips as his eyes are trained on you. Nodding at appropriate times.

Yves has exemplary table manners and etiquette, and his posture is confident and tall. He prefers to listen; of course, he does, as he rests his hands on his knee; his legs are delicately crossed and still. Best be careful of what you say and when you say it; And how you say it. He always remembers.

Yves takes care of you much, much more than he takes care of himself. He is already a marvelous chef with indeterminate years of experience but for certain, more than a decade. Cooking healthy and delicious meals for you and himself. He actually prefers to cook instead of going out, he knows your portions and the nutrients your body truly needs to feel satiated. He knows how you like your eggs done or if you even like eggs at all. He is an expert in making dishes tasty and simultaneously fitting your dietary needs and, or restrictions.

It's only fitting that he lives in a richer neighborhood. However, he isn't swayed by flashy displays of wealth in the form of purchasing mansions, luxury cars, and yachts. Yves owns a modest two-story house with a modern finish. As modest as a billionaire could be. However, it is small enough for Yves to be successful in maintaining the cleanliness and the state of the building himself. He has no hired help, unlike his neighbors. He is responsible for scrubbing the entire house from top to bottom every week. He is responsible for keeping his lawn trimmed and even. All of that, he still has ample time to accompany you everywhere you want him to be, keep up with his self-grooming rituals, and conduct his extensive research. It's almost as if Yves has 72 hours a day instead of the regular 24.

His humble abode follows a modern gothic aesthetic. Dark yet soothing. Unfortunately, he has a very strict set of rules as to how his home should appear to him, you, and others. Fussy about the choice of curtains, floorings, flooring, bathroom towels, and even the cutlery available in the kitchen; he would politely express his displeasure if you were to tamper with anything without his approval. However, he will provide a large room for you to express yourself, Yves will be more than happy to provide whatever you require to make your designated room purely yours.

Although he finds delight in serving your (almost) every verbal or silent request, he isn't spineless. Disrespect and rudeness are unacceptable, he will not entertain you if you're treating him as subhuman. Yves made sure you understand that he is deserving of esteem and dignity as well. He does that by calmly but firmly explaining that he does indeed love you and would do anything to make you happy. But he will not accept unnecessary callousness from you. Hence, it is not at all advisable to take your frustrations out on him.

"I understand you're upset that this happened. I have your best interests at heart, I have been nothing but compassionate to you. Please, do not act cruel towards me." That is what he would have said in such events. His scolding glare, stern body language, and muted yet assertive tone are usually enough to snap anyone out of their anger, retract their hurtful words, and hang their head in shame as they mutter an apology.

Yves will relax, soften his gaze, and fully demonstrate his appreciation for your remorse. The reward for your desired behavior is dependent on your files. It could be as simple as a forehead kiss, or it could be a platter of intricately cut fruits. Regardless, his main priority will always be solving your problems and making you the happiest version of yourself.

Perhaps, to a select few, you're undeterred by him calling you out. Maybe you would amp up your mistreatment towards him. No matter, he knows what to do. He is the master of bending reality by meticulously carrying out his convoluted plans. He could orchestrate the perfect circumstance without you ever suspecting he has any involvement in it, and it will influence you to change your ways, to be kinder towards him. Rest assured, he will never mirror your actions, as he believes it's unnecessary and horrible to treat the love of his life that way.

You could have tried to beat him into a pulp out of the blue and he would have never thought of doing that back. Of course, he will appropriately defend himself and obviously, you will not listen to reason. So he stays eerily silent as he blocks all your hits or restrain your wrists enough to protect himself, but not enough to hurt you. Or he simply walks away. Again, depending on the situation and your personality. Are you going to cause yourself harm? Or will your tantrum stop when he pays no mind and it's all for show?

Could it be that you're having a meltdown out of overwhelm instead? Quite unlikely, Yves would have swiftly eliminated all the factors that can cause a mental or physical overload before it happens. Nonetheless, Yves is not an omnipotent, omnipresent god (but he is close to being one) and you, as a human, are facing constant changes. That is why he has to update his database often for any new observations and review past records regularly.

On the topic of keeping records, his collection indeed includes your medical history. Even that unknown to the hospitals. The number of scrapes and cuts you have gotten, even paper cuts, the time and date you received that minor injury, and how long it takes to heal. Your genome sequence and many reports on your probability of developing certain diseases. Your dental records, your blood work archives, any and every radiological image taken of your being, your prescription details, vaccination history or lack thereof, and many more.

Yves could recite the values on a blood test you took a decade ago by heart. He would accurately and nonchalantly describe the figures on that sheet of paper. As if he was reciting the alphabet.

He will undeniably be the first person to notice that you're falling ill or close to catching a cold. You might think he has a 6th sense that detects your sickness before any symptoms start to arise. But his sharp eyes, nose, ears, and mind already picked up on all the signs that doctors will miss.

You could be his little prince or princess while you're unwell. He would be at your beck and call with no complaints. Yves would fix up a hearty meal, spoon-feed you, and stay up all night comforting you to sleep. He has no problem if you get any mucus, vomit, or other bodily fluids on him. He will settle your situation first, valuing your dignity and feelings of utmost importance before cleaning himself up.

Or, maybe you feel pathetic. Maybe you would very much prefer to continue working or studying and going about with your day. You don't like the feeling of being pitied or pampered just because you're sick. You don't like having your autonomy taken over just because you're temporarily weakened; or permanently disabled. Yves understands that.

Yves allows you to have your cake and eat it too. You may think that he's not watching or caring because he isn't around you. But he always is; and to a certain degree, you knew that. He made sure of it. Yves is always a couple seconds away from helping you. Though, you wouldn't know that a lot of the time, you're living a lie.

The thesis that you're slaving over for months despite your chronic illnesses, sacrificing a few years off your lifespan, you got an outstanding award for it. But your actual thesis is in Yves library; it was abysmal. You would have definitely failed if he hadn't intercepted the network and swapped the file with a wonderfully written one instead. Written by the man himself after he spent as much time studying about your course as you in secret.

It's a miracle you passed your final exams even though all you did in the past month was break down into a messy puddle of tears. Nothing a bit of hush money between your lecturer and your significant other couldn't fix.

The balance sheet that you're supposed to submit to your higher-ups. That would have landed you in jail at worst and fired at best. You did it while you were severely sleep deprived and the numbers were all wrong and there were many missing figures that Yves had to locate. If you pay attention, the red pens in his pencil holder are almost out of ink.

You would have poisoned your customers if he didn't buy the entire ruined batch of bread from your bakery. All this while, you thought Yves was an event manager who chose your business as catering.

You would have killed hundreds of passengers if he didn't sneak into the hangar and tightened that one bolt you missed. Either due to carelessness or otherwise.

He does a very convincing job impersonating a respected doctor at the hospital you work in. He forged the signature as an imposter, legally implying that "he" was the one who administered 100 times the appropriate dosage of insulin. You, as a nurse, mistook 1 unit of insulin for 1 ml. The doctor takes the fall and you get off scot-free. Maybe a bit shaken because you know the truth. At least you will be a lot more careful next time.

You're lucky he is also an expert in all things coding. Yves needs a glasses prescription change after staring at his computer monitor for so long to wipe out the bugs, faulty lines of code, and vulnerabilities. If you were to publish this for the massive corporation that you're working with, lawsuits would come flying right at you like darts.

Yves is constantly cleaning up after you without your awareness. Yet you still get all the praise and recognition for it. He is very content with that.

Yves rarely faces any ailments of his own. As reiterated over and over again, he takes care of himself better than most of the world takes care of their children; and his genes are almost invincible. However, as he is still human (even that may sometimes be debatable), he will succumb to an absurdly powerful virus and develop the flu. But you wouldn't know aside from his increased hand washing and his unusual choice to wear two surgical masks around you. He is still carrying himself with grace, fluidity, and with the energy of a healthy, young man.

If the illness is particularly contagious and he knows that it could put a severe toll on your body if you catch it, he will isolate himself and hire someone competent to take care of you from behind the scenes, out of your sight. He worries for you.

There are very few people whom he would trust. He has no family that you know of, he never speaks about his friends; only his associates. Even if you're the most insecure person in the world, only in Yves will you feel secure. He seems to devote all his time to you and more. He is a self-sufficient man who built everything he has from the ground up. It seems unfair that he knows you like he lived in your body twice, yet his last name is unknown to you. Yves said that he does not own a surname, it's a bit hard to believe him but what else could you do? You're not the one with the magnifying glass, he is.

He is a very private person. He does indulge you with information about himself from time to time. Like how he enjoys caviar on toast points, how he prefers buying high quality bags and clothes with discrete logos from obscure yet lavish designers and companies; he is fond of its' meticulous craftmanship and durability. He plays the grand piano and the harp, as evidenced by the presence of a grand piano and a harp in his designated music room; things that you would expect him to like or dislike based on the stereotypes of rich people.

You already made assumptions that he spoke English and French, based on his name and accent. Which was accurate. What came to you as a surprise is that he also spoken fluent Mandarin and Cantonese over the phone before. You were watching a cooking video one day on your smartphone, there was a voice over in Russian. Yves gently rubbed your shoulder to announce his presence before handing you your glass of water. It was a shock to know that he could translate the whole thing effortlessly to English. He even offered to make the food shown for you.

It puzzled you to no end when you caught him leisurely reading a set of papers printed in Hindi Devanagari. He was sipping on his steaming cup of black tea, not needing an ounce of effort to get through the jargon. He told you that he is reading a published journal article about Ayurvedic medicine.

You asked him what other languages he speaks. "الانتظار لمعرفة." He said with a playful wink, he pushes his reading glasses back up. Yves offered you to sit on his lap while he reads his article. You may or may not have accepted the offer, he is fine either way.

He is prone to touching you. Nothing malicious in nature, Yves would always have an arm around your waist, a hand on your shoulder, locking his large, warm and soft hands with yours, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, running your fingers through your locks if you have any, hooking his pinkie fingers with yours and many more. He knows your limits and backs off accordingly, he noted when is the best time and circumstance to give you physical affection if you're the type to like the surprise.

Otherwise, he would whisper if he could give you a kiss on the cheek, forehead and the lips, or a hug. Asking for permission not too frequently and at the appropriate time. You can feel his love is lingering and undying whenever he holds you close to his chest.

Yves doesn't believe in keeping you all to himself, locking you up in a glided cage and clipping your wings. Because your happiness and health is his main priority in life and he is intelligent enough to understand that you need others to fill in roles that he may not be able to fill. Yes, you're allowed to have friends. Yes, you should visit your family, he will come with. Yes, the ones that you love aside from him are welcome into his home. Within limits.

He is, in most aspects of his life: polite, but distant to your friends and family. Yves has a separate database for all of them them somewhere in his shelves for security reasons- to keep them in check and nip any threat at the bud, but they're plainly not as vast as yours. You better hope none of them annoy him, he has access to their private messages, call logs and emails. To his disgust, a lot of them has their own infidelities to hide.

If you have decent parents who were there for most of your life, you would be astonished to see Yves speaking to them so warmly. As if he cares about their existence. His eyes pupils will be dilated as he takes in as much information as possible. It's unnerving, even you had the vibe that this relationship between him and your parents is that of researchers and lab rats.

Yves recognizes that your parents or guardians are a treasure trove of information revolving around you. Now, he understands that their memories of you may not be the most reliable, but the data is still as precious. The knowledge that your friends have of you is useless, as Yves already possesses a more accurate and objective version of it. But information from the people who raised you or taught you (I.e., teachers), he may not have them in his logs yet.

What did you like as a child? What were you like as a child? Any strange fixations you had that could better explain some of your behaviors and preferences now? Any verbal tics? If so, when did it occur? What were your "bad behaviors" and were they a reaction to unpleasant stimuli? What did you tell them about your schooling life? How much did you tell them about your life? What were the values passed down from their generation to yours? When you were a toddler, did they notice what made you cry the most? Who made you cry the most? What media did you consume, cartoons? Live action? Specifically, which ones? How did you punish bad behavior, any lasting effect on your innate reflexes? Any repetitive habits? Where did you look when spoken to, straight into the eyes, away from the eyes, downcast, or past the speaker entirely? Did you prefer your nails long or cut? Did you fit in? Did you enjoy playing 'house' with the other children? Or did you prefer to play alone? The list is not exhaustive.

The barrage of questions was carefully worded and strategically sprinkled into the conversation. His social intellect is unmatched, he could easily obtain the necessary voice recordings in three meetings without your parents feeling overwhelmed or perturbed. With his unbelievable charm, your parents instantly fell in love with him too, thinking that he's the best fit for an attentive, loving, and dependable partner.

It doesn't matter if your parents were conservatives who may be offended by how he presents himself with modest makeup as an androgynous man. No one can deny that he looks stunning in every angle. He will win them over without compromising on his identity too much. Knowledge is power and Yves is the most powerful one out there.

You might or might not find it strange that he defies the common trope of hating his in-laws. Yves gets along with your parents well, maybe a bit too well. There is an 'off' aura to each interaction; he also makes a beeline to his office when he gets back home, claiming that he was contacted for work.

Obviously, he was transcribing what was recorded and organizing them, to improve his predictive algorithm.

One thing that you may be worried about, would he secretly judge you for liking this one thing, for doing a particular activity your own special way, and disliking something he likes? No. Yves is humble, who is he to pass judgment? He is lucid enough to know that he's not at all normal. Nothing about you irks him, data is data. You may have dated before him. Maybe during with him. But he remains neutral, it just means some hypotheses are either proven or disproven. Does that mean he will not get jealous? No, he can turn into a green-eyed monster of envy. However, he has full control over all aspects of his life, even his feelings. It may not be easy, but he is fully capable.

He does consider cheating as a major betrayal and disrespect, as he ensures that the both of you had the talk, discussing what is considered acceptable and what isn't. But he never let his emotions take him over. Yves remains cold and calculating as ever. Depending on your personality, he could either confront you and come to a compromise- and update your records, or he could simply eradicate the nuisance- and update your records. Yves is a strong believer that your actions were bad, but it does not mean that you are a bad person, And you could grow from it. He words his thoughts very carefully here, guaranteeing that he doesn't label your entire being as evil. Your actions are separate from your inherent value.

Everything he does is according to your nature and what works most effectively. His goal is never to punish you for wrongdoing, it's always to love you unconditionally while advocating for himself.

Even if he has tears rolling down his cheeks upon setting sights on the surveillance camera footage that confirms your adultery.

He would be badly hurt, the pain searing through every unit of life in his body. However, Yves would still love you the same and care for you to the best of his abilities. He just needs you to understand that it is not acceptable.

If it takes brutally dismembering your lover in front of you to teach you that lesson, so be it. Let the filth smear his expensive clothes. Let the blood paint his lips even redder. Let his tears wash the smear of viscera away from his face.

Your screams will be data to him. Your hyperventilation, heart rate, and blood pressure shall be the baseline wherein you're experiencing an extremely traumatic event. It will improve his prediction.

When that's all done and over with, he will assess the situation. Have you learned anything? Do you feel regret or remorse? Will you do it again? Will you break his faith once more by outing his crimes to the public?

Once Yves is satisfied with the outcome, he will give you a tight, comforting hug. Thanking you for enduring that and appreciating your genuine apologies. This is only if he is absolutely sure he achieved what he wanted.

But thankfully, that is unlikely to happen. As you wouldn't cheat, correct? You know better. You know very well that isn't a good idea to cheat on your personal mind reader.

As long as you're kind, in line, and faithful, you will have a wonderful, fulfilling life with Yves. All the ugly, unsightly parts of him will remain hidden in the shadows. He will conceal his eyes, giving you that sense of normalcy in day-to-day life while monitoring your every step and breath. Like a magic trick, the magic lies in not knowing how the trick works.

But unlike knowing the ruses of a magic trick, you will be horrified to learn about Yves's clandestine machinations.

Don't ruin a good thing for yourself.

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