#wooyoung oneshots
Text
ink and needles
pairings: tattoo artist! bf! wooyoung x fem!reader
genre: fluff
word count: 2890
main masterlist
“Hongjoong, will you stop pacing?” Exasperated, I stood in front of him, blocking his path. “You’ve made my floorboards at least 3 shades lighter. Now can you please tell me why you’ve barged into my house at 3 o’clock in the morning with the intention of putting a dent in my living room floor?”
“Okay, so, remember that little trip we have with some of the boys on Saturday?”
Curling back into the corner of the sofa, I nodded, “Yeah, what about it?”
Hongjoong smiled awkwardly as he inched away from me, “Well, um, some of the boys has turned into all of the boys.”
Raising a brow, I sent him a look, “Okay? Why are you getting so worked up about that?”
“It means Wooyoung’s gonna be there as well.”
“So?”
Hongjoong frowned as he looked at me, “You’re alright with Wooyoung being there?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Standing up, I made my way back into my bedroom, Hongjoong trailing behind me as he turned off the lights.
“I - uh- I just, you two have a love-hate relationship going on, just thought that you might want to get away from all that while you're trying to relax.”
Pulling my duvet back, I paused before looking up at Hongjoong, who was leaning against the wall, “Wha-? Why would you think that?”
Slipping into bed, I looked at Hongjoong as he made his way to the door.
“You two bicker. A lot. Every time you see each other, you bicker. Doesn't it get tiring sometimes?”
“It’s just how we are. I mean, yes, he knows how to get on my nerves, and can sometimes not know when to stop talking, but he’s a good b- a good friend. I wouldn't change it for anything.”
Turning my back to him, I reached my hand out and turned off the lights.
"You know where the guest rooms are, now goodnight, Joong."
I watched as Hongjoong slid into the passenger side of the car before I looked at Wooyoung in the backseat grinning.
Leaning down next to Hongjoong's window, I raised a brow at both him and Seonghwa, "You two do know that you've just assigned yourselves a death sentence by putting Wooyoung and I in the same car, right?"
Sliding into the seat next to Wooyoung, I watched as Seonghwa adjusted the rear-view mirror before backing out the driveway with a nod, "Yeah, yeah, just don't bicker the whole way there or else I'm gonna be throwing one of you out."
Casting a glance at Wooyoung, I nodded, "As long as he knows when to shut up, we'll be fine Hwa."
Wooyoung pouted, putting a hand on his chest dramatically as he leaned over to me, "How could you say that about me?"
Rolling my eyes, I pushed his face away from mine, "Oh, hush, ask anyone in our friend group what your favourite pastime is and they'll say trying to rile me up."
I could see him nod in my peripheral vision, "True, I like seeing you all riled up, you get all pouty and it's cute."
Making a sound from the back of my throat, I turned to look at him, "I don't pout when I'm annoyed."
Wooyoung was about to say something when Hongjoong cut in, "You do. You furrow your brows and then start pouting."
Looking over to Seonghwa, I saw him nod along, "Yeah, they're right." Stopping at a red light, he glanced back at me and grinned, "You're doing it right now."
Pausing, I realised that, yes, I was indeed pouting.
Running a hand over my face, I glared at the three men laughing at me, "Why are you guys ganging up on me today?"
I felt Wooyoung put his hand on top of my head as he ruffled up my hair, "Because it's fun."
Swatting his hand away, I tried to smooth down my hair, "Stop it. I just washed my hair this morning, and if it gets all frizzy because you did that, you and I are gonna have a talk, pretty boy."
Chuckling, Wooyoung pushed my hands out of the way before running his own over my hair, "Your hair's fine sweetheart."
I could see Hongjoong share a confused look with Seonghwa before he glanced back at us. Ignoring it, I chose to concentrate on my phone.
Replying to the messages Mingi sent me, I felt a presence next to me. Turning my head to the side, I frowned when I noticed Wooyoung's face right next to mine.
Glancing up at Hongjoong and Seonghwa, I kept my voice low, "What are you doing?"
"Quick question."
Feeling his lips brush the shell of my ear, I leaned back slightly, "What is it? And can you please quit breathing down my neck, it tickles."
Wooyoung chuckled slightly, "Whatever you say. I just wanted to ask if we're telling them tonight?"
"Yeah?" Turning my head to look at him, "When else are we gonna tell them? I don't think you can keep your hands to yourself for two days, Woo."
Wooyoung smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes as he thought of something, "Hmm, I definitely won't be able to."
Arriving at the holiday house late in the afternoon, everyone had just about enough time to settle into their rooms before our dinner would arrive.
Exiting the bathroom, I noticed Wooyoung sitting in my bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.
Making my way over, I sat down next to him, "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"
Grinning, Wooyoung put his phone down and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer, "Just came to see how my pretty baby's doing."
Scrunching up my nose at the nickname, I let out a small chuckle, "I should be the one asking you that. You're the one that's been scared to tell them."
Tightening his arm around my waist, Wooyoung nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, "That's only because I'm afraid one of them is gonna castrate me. They're all like overprotective brothers and it's scary."
Wiggling out of his arms, I stood up from the bed, holding a hand out to him, "Come on, let's go down, they're probably already in the kitchen."
Wooyoung latched on to my hand, pulling me out of the bedroom and downstairs. As we rounded the corner to the kitchen, we paused when we heard Hongjoong talking.
In the kitchen, the rest of the boys were setting up the table ready for dinner as Hongjoong and Seonghwa took the food off the serving carts, "No, but something felt strange between them. Hwa, back me up here."
Seonghwa set the last plate on the table with a shrug, "Yeah, they were acting a bit weird. I mean, they were still bickering, but also, like, flirting."
Everyone looked at Hongjoong and Seonghwa in disbelief as Yeosang let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, flirting? Those two? Okay, Wooyoung might come off a bit flirty at times, but that's because he's Wooyoung. It's not like Y/N flirts back."
Hongjoong simply nodded, leaning against the kitchen island, "Yeah, that's what normally happens, but Y/N called him 'pretty boy' today."
Sharing a look with Wooyoung, I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes. Shaking my head, I entered the kitchen with Wooyoung following behind me.
"And what are we talking about?"
The sound of my voice startled them as they whipped their heads towards us.
Jongho's eyes flickered between Wooyoung and I before glaring at Wooyoung when he caught something in his expression, "No."
I felt Wooyoung snake an arm around me, grinning up at Jongho, "I'm gonna have to say, yes."
Jongho threw his head back as he let out a groan, "Ugh, we're gonna have to deal with you two bickering AND flirting?" Jongho made his way to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer, "This is going to be a long weekend, beer anyone?"
The others looked at each other before Mingi broke the silence, "Uh, anyone want to fill us in?"
Running a hand over my face, I grinned awkwardly at them, "We're dating?"
Turning on the reading lamp, I picked up my book as I waited for Wooyoung to finish in the bathroom.
"Well," Flinching slightly, I was startled by Wooyoung's sudden entrance, "That went better than I expected."
Looking up, I watched as Wooyoung exited the bathroom, the lettering at the base of his neck and the serpent that curled at his shoulder blade on display.
"Really?" Putting the book down, I arched an eyebrow as he slid in next to me. "What did you think would happen?"
Once Wooyoung was comfortable against the headboard, I sat up, opting to staddle Wooyoung with my arms wrapped around his neck as his hands found purchase on my waist.
"Definitely didn't think Hongjoong was going to point a wooden spoon at me and threaten to hunt me down with one of his easels."
Laughing, I couldn't help but envision Hongjoong chasing Wooyoung with an easel, "What would he even accomplish? Those things are heavy!"
Sliding one of my hands down, I traced the tattoo over his chest as the other played with the hairs on the nape of his neck.
Wooyoung picked up the hand on his chest and raised it up to his lips, pressing a kiss at the pulse point, "What's going through that pretty little head of yours, hmm?"
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I raised my eyes to meet his, a shy expression taking over my face, "I wanna get a tattoo."
Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up as he looked up at me in surprise, "Yeah? I thought you were afraid of needles."
Humming, I felt Wooyoung's hands slip under my shirt, his thumbs rubbing circles on my hips, "I am, but I want to get one and maybe a few more piercings."
Wooyoung grinned as he nuzzled into the side of my face, lips brushing against my cheek, "Want me to do them for you, pretty?"
Pulling back slightly, I looked at him, "Please?"
Wooyoung pressed a kiss on my lips, leaning his forehead against mine, "Let's talk about this tomorrow. I'll book you in when the new shop opens."
Wooyoung's arms tightened around me, pulling me flush against his chest as his lips found their way down the column of my neck.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
Turning my head to glance at Hongjoong, I took a step closer to him as we made our way down the street.
“What?” I shrugged, turning to face ahead. “I’ve wanted to get a tattoo for ages. Plus, I want to get a couple more piercings, so, why not?”
Hongjoong looked at me in disbelief, “You’re terrified of needles. You can’t even get a shot without getting all anxious, and you think you can sit through being jabbed continuously with one?”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his words, “You’re exaggerating, I’m just not too fond of needles, that’s all.”
Hongjoong moved to hook an arm with mine, “Hmmm. When are you getting it done?”
Glancing at the watch on my wrist, I looked at him with a sheepish smile, “My appointment’s in about 10 minutes, so, um let's hurry up.”
Hongjoong paused for a second before pinching my arm, “You could’ve told me sooner!”
“Yeah, well, uh, we’re here.”
Stopping in front of a glass door, Hongjoong squinted up at the sign above.
“This is Wooyoung and San’s new shop.”
“It is.”
Pushing the door open, Hongjoong and I walked in, taking a seat as San handed me a couple pieces of paper to look through.
“You chose Wooyoung over ME?” Hongjoong whined as he looked at me with a pout.
Not even looking up, I shook my head, "As much as I love you, Joong, the tattoos that you do are too.... extravagant for my taste."
Signing the last piece of paper, I handed them to San before looking at Hongjoong, "Are you staying out here with San?"
Seeing him nod, I stood up and made my way to the last room down the corridor, where Wooyoung's workstation was.
Pushing the door open, I saw Wooyoung moving around the room, getting everything ready for the tattoo. Upon hearing the door creak open, he looked up, a smile making its way across his face when he saw me.
Closing the door behind me, I let Wooyoung wrap his arms around me and press a kiss on my temple.
"Nervous?"
Nodding against him, I stepped back, placing my bag and jacket on the chair next to the door.
"Of course I am."
Wooyoung gave me a soft smile as he motioned me over to the workbench, "Come on, I'll do your piercings first."
Settling down, I clipped my hair back as Wooyoung put his gloves on.
"You want two more helix piercings, yeah? Same ear?"
Nodding, I watched as Wooyoung took a marker out, marking the positions of the piercings in my left ear before setting it down and taking a sterile needle out. Screwing my eyes closed, I turned my head to the side as I held onto the sides of Wooyoung's shirt as he slotted himself between my legs.
Hearing Wooyoung countdown quietly, I let out a small breath before wincing as the needle went through.
"Alright, one more to go."
Once the second one went through, I slowly let go of Wooyoung's shirt, smoothing down the wrinkles as Wooyoung changed out the needles for studs.
Turning to look at him, Wooyoung gave me an encouraging smile as he ran his hand up and down my thighs.
"Ready for the tattoo, pretty?"
Seeing me nod, Wooyoung stepped back from me to prepare his tattoo gun, "You're gonna have to take off your shirt and bra, babe."
Unbuttoning my shirt, I slid it off my shoulders before unhooking my bra. Turning on the bench, I leaned my back against the seat with an arm covering myself.
Wooyoung snapped on a pair of fresh gloves before seating himself on the stool next to me to start prepping my skin, "Ready?"
Casting a nervous side glance, I smiled, "Definitely."
Wooyoung pressed a quick kiss on my cheek before turning on the tattoo gun. Hearing the buzz fill the room, my body tensed slightly, before relaxing under Wooyoung's touch.
Feeling the needle prick my skin, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The tattoo was a simple chrysanthemum design on the side of my ribs, and it didn't take long to complete.
Wiping away the excess ink, Wooyoung leaned back to have a better look before tilting his head towards the mirror, "Go on, take a look before I wrap it."
Hoping off the bench, I made my way to the side of the room where the mirror was.
Scanning my eyes over the design, I smiled, "This is good."
Chuckling, Wooyoung made his way over to me with a bandage in hand, "Of course it does! I did it!"
Chuckling, I waited until Wooyoung finished whatever it was that he needed to do, before turning around and wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing a kiss on his lips, "Thank you."
"My pleasure, pretty. But why a chrysanthemum?"
Smiling, I let go of him and went over to the bench to slip my shirt back on, "It's the birth flower for November."
Putting my bra into my bag, I turned to see Wooyoung standing at his workstation with a disinfectant spray in hand with a surprised expression, "Oh? So, it's for me then?"
Shaking my head, a fond smile made its way across my face, "I was born in November too, pretty boy."
Wooyoung wiped down the remaining bit of the workstation before walking out the door with me, my bag and jacket in hand.
"Yeah, but I'd much rather think it's for me."
Laughing, I paused slightly when we entered the reception area, "Uh, where are San and Hongjoong?"
Wooyoung picked up a sticky note from behind the reception desk, "Well, they've left already. You were the last one of the day."
Looking out the window, I noticed that it was raining pretty heavily outside.
"Did you drive here, babe?"
Wooyoung handed me my jacket before taking his off the clothing rack by the door, "Yeah, it's parked down the street."
Exiting the shop, Wooyoung locked to door before turning to me, placing his jacket over the top of our heads, "Dinner at mine?"
Seeing me nod, we both darted out into the rain and ran towards his car.
Reaching the car, Wooyoung quickly unlocked it allowing me to slide into the passenger side, shaking my arms slightly.
Wooyoung got into the seat beside me, shaking his head slightly to get rid of some of the water particles in there.
Turning on the car ignition, Wooyoung turned to me, smiling, "What? You're staring, pretty."
Taking his hand, I pressed a kiss on the back of it, "I love you."
Wooyoung's hand tightened its hold on mine before letting go to tilt my head towards him. He leaned over the centre console, one of his hands finding its way to the back of my head as his lips found mine.
"I love you too."
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king of hearts
✁ pairing: wooyoung x g.n reader
✁ genre: established relationship, mafia au, illegal underground casino and fighting themes, twinges of fluff but there’s angst,,, but open ending? i wasn’t sure how to end it. warnings: descriptions of blood and scratches but its not on wooyoung, language rating: 16+
✁ wc: 2.2k
✁ plot: you were his red, his lucky charm; from the color of your outfit to the way that he views the world to protect you from its evil, including himself. however you knew what you were getting into from the moment that you first locked eyes, and you maybe enjoyed the thrill of it all. after all, you were his red.
✁ a/n: welcome to my attempt of a writing comeback! this was so much fun to write and i really do hope that you guys liked this!! it’s not my best, but also not my worst as i attempted to get back into the writing groove~ however i hope you all enjoy reading this and also check out the rest of the outlaw the project works that are also written by other amazing atiny writers!! until next time~
my ateez masterlist | outlaw the project masterlist
You should be considered lucky.
Being the fiancée of a powerful man in the underground mafia world, it should be a privilege that you were to be prosperous for the rest of your life without having to move a finger at all. Both you and Wooyoung had known each other since your college days, except he wasn’t in college whatsoever. It was more of a situation where the man had stumbled into your previous part time campus job, just when you were about to close down for the day.
Something about him that night should’ve sent alarms right to your head, but you fell for his cheeky smile and the glint in his eyes, which got you to where you were today.
Today was another moment where Wooyoung was going to be out for the night; but you knew what he was going out for. Him and his friends were a part of a secret night life, one that had different casinos, underground fight clubs, and even dealerships that you would’ve never thought about in broad daylight. Nobody would have suspected them in the first place, considering the fact that they were all highly respected noble citizens, yet you knew.
Wooyoung came clean to you almost three months into your relationship, all based on the fact that he was heavily in love with you and knew that you had been the one that he wanted to settle down with.
“What’s going on in that cute head of yours?”
You turn to look at your lover, who was sitting beside you in his car, the soft hums of the engine filling up the atmosphere as you give him a small smile before shaking your head. For a moment he gives you a look as if he was not convinced with your words. Before he could voice his doubts,the red neon traffic light turns green once again, giving him no option but to proceed with the journey that you were both going on.
Tonight was one of the biggest nights for him, as he was not only coaching one of the biggest underground fights of the year, but also trying to make sure that a deal goes through with a rival gang. The opponent that his gang member would face tonight was from a group called TXT, and was known to be ruthless and merciless. However, you had faith that both Wooyoung and San had a plan to defeat them for the night, all while Wooyoung’s leader was in charge of making the deal with TXT’s leader, Soobin.
“What if something happens tonight? Like if San loses tonight, what does that mean for the rest of you guys, or even you?” You whisper quietly, glancing over at him once more and for a minute you can see a twinge of hesitation in his face.
You could tell that he was a bit perplexed from your words, and maybe you should’ve kept your thoughts to yourself so that he wouldn’t be paranoid. However, he knew that you were right because that was something that he wanted to push to the back of his mind. He didn’t want to think about the negatives that could happen tonight, knowing that the underground scene was unsafe for you to be in, in the first place.
But he trusted you: his good luck charm.
“You’ll be there beside me, won't you, Red?” He grins suddenly and the hand that was previously in yours is brought up to his lips as he places a kiss on the back of your hand.
Of course you would.
“I’ll be there to cheer you both on, I promise.”
“Y/N! It’s so good to see you, darling!”
Your grin widens the moment that you see your old friend from college, Hueningkai, as soon as you enter the outer ropes of the ring. He gives you a hug at the sight of you and for a moment you can feel eyes on you, unsure as to why the feeling of paranoia was creeping up your spine. You chose to ignore it for a moment as you greeted your friend.
“What brings you here, Kai? I wouldn’t have imagined this place to be your scene.” You smile while motioning to how grimy and musty the place was smelling, but he lets out a small chuckle before giving you a look, which you understood.
“I could say the same for you, as someone who once hated the locker rooms that were in the rec center,” He jokes before stuffing both hands into his pockets and nodding over towards one corner of the ring, where one of the fighters was already preparing himself.
“I’m actually here for Taehyunie. I’m his coach for tonight’s match.”
His words explained the paranoia in your system, which caused your heart to sink into your stomach as chills crawled on your skin. If anybody could see the blood drain from your face, they would assume that you had seen a ghost in this abandoned arena. It seemed as though Kai had caught on to your shift in expression, and was a bit concerned.
“Y/N-”
“Red!” The sound of your friend San arrives in your ears as he wraps an arm over your shoulder, grinning at the sight of you before sizing up the tall male that was standing right in front of you. “Who’s your friend, Red?”
You could tell that Wooyoung had sent him over as the latter was probably collecting all of the money for the bets that were going on for tonight’s match. There was a lump in your throat as you struggled to get the words out, but both males were just outright smiling at each other, as if there wasn’t going to be a large match against both enemy gangs.
Nope, just one friendly fighting match… That could be the demise of one group and possibly start a gang war.
“Hey Red, your fiancé wants to see you real quick,” He says after breaking the tension filled stare that was sent at Kai before sending the individual a small smile, “See you later Huening.”
The fighter drags you away from him and rather towards his corner that your fiancé was standing in with his arms crossed, but the glare that he was sending towards the other gang was everything that you needed to confirm his thought process.
He was angry.
“Woo-”
“How do you know Kai?” He interrupts your sentence and hops down from the ring to look at you with his arms still crossed, an eyebrow raised as if you were a child being scolded, causing an unsettling feeling to bubble in your stomach.
“Well, in case you don’t remember, I used to have a life before all of this,” You said before motioning towards the scene behind you both and mirroring his stance, “He was one of my close friends before graduating, but never had I once found out that he was in a gang, much less enemy gang.”
Your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, or even a tiny bit of anger as you could tell that Wooyoung was once again perplexed for the nth time tonight. You could see the bills of cash that were threatening to spill from his pockets, which meant that tonight meant huge for him, but you didn’t want to be seen as the trophy standing beside him the whole time.
You could do something too.
“I’m not judging you for having other friends, baby, I’m just-”
“Nervous about the fight, I know, whatever.” You huffed, deciding to shrug off the black and white racer jacket that was draped over your shoulders that was given to you earlier by one of the other members in Wooyoung’s gang.
“Find me when it’s fucking over, I guess. I’ll be in the car.” You huffed and shoved the jacket into his arms, taking the keys that were previously in the jacket’s pocket into your own hands and heading back outside to where your car was parked earlier.
You didn’t have to be there anyways for good luck. It was San’s fight anyways, not his.
You don’t know how long you have been knocked out for, but the sound of someone knocking on the car’s door wakes you up from your impromptu car nap and you open your eyes to see that it was your fiancé with a small smile on his face. He motions for you to unlock the car for him to get in, and you roll your eyes at his action, deciding to turn away from his face after remembering the events that lead you to where you were now.
“Oh come on baby, don’t be like that-”
“Shove a foot up your ass, Woo,” You grumbled and tried to close your eyes once again, up until you heard the familiar sounds of police sirens in the background, “Shit.”
Reaching over to unlock the doors, you see him scramble to get in and start the car, disregarding his seatbelt as he sped off into the neon city lights. The sound of police sirens had felt like they were getting closer with every second that Wooyoung was speeding off into the night, your grip on the passenger handle above your head getting tighter as your heart was beating fast in your chest.
It was moments like this where you’d pray that you didn’t get caught today, because if something were to go wrong then it was over for all of you. Your heartbeat was pounding loudly in your ears until you felt the car coming to a stop, making you open your eyes which had unknowingly been clenched shut as you realized that you were back at your shared home.
You didn’t even notice that the sirens stopped with how fast everything was going.
The car turns off as you slump back into your seat, hearing Wooyoung release a breath of relief. You could tell that he was staring at you, figuring out what your next move was. On one hand, you want to scream and slap him across the face for being on the edge of getting arrested tonight, because what could’ve gone so badly that the cops had shown up. On the other hand…
“We lost tonight,” He whispers, before you could even reach over to open the door that was on your side. You looked over at him confused, wondering how it was even possible for them to lose when San was known to be undefeatable.
“Turns out I didn’t have my good luck charm tonight, because I messed up.” He chuckles, trying to give you a small smile, but he frowns when he notices that you were not giving into his endeavors.
“Baby, there’s no excuse for how I acted tonight-”
“You were a big dickhead-”
“An absolute dickhead to you,” He says, pressing a kiss onto the back of your hand. You let out a deep breath from your nose, still glaring at him as he plays with your engagement ring which he placed on your fourth finger just memories prior to this, “But I was scared that you’d leave me.”
You scoffed in response, taking your hand out of his as you turned around to look at him for the first time tonight with your thoughts as clear as day.
“I said yes to marrying you for a reason, Jung Wooyoung. I didn’t give a shit back then when you told me that you were in a mafia gang, hell if I cared about the fact that we just ran away from the fucking cops because of your sick gambling addiction and desire to win so bad against your enemy gang,” You started ranting, feeling the tips of your ears and cheeks flare up in anger because of how much you kept it all bottled in after all these months of just sitting aside and just being his fiancée.
“But the moment that I greet my friend after not seeing them for a while, even after saying yes to you and running away from what I know, you treated me like I couldn’t be trusted. How am I supposed to be my own person, after I marry you, when I constantly feel like a little trophy? How many times am I going to be an accomplice to your illegal activities, until I end up facing your consequences from the amount of blood on your hands?”
Your words felt like a kick to his stomach as tears surfaced in your eyes, but his lack of words was confirmation enough. Unlocking the door, you get out of the tension filled car and slam the door behind you before reaching up to wipe the stray tears that were falling from your face.
Neither of you were in the right headspace. It felt like you were stuck in a game of cards where you were about to lose it all to a hand with the king of hearts. But, this time, you weren’t even sure how this was going to end, as maybe this was the end of you and your own king of hearts.
You realized from the moment that you stepped inside your home; Wooyoung never chased after you.
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Defeated
It's moments like these that you would rather be living alone. No offense to Wooyoung, he's an amazing housemate, but when you're on your period you become a different person. Due to the pain and disconfort you get irritated easily and just want to rot in bed for as long as you can.
Wooyoung is more than willing to take care of you, you just don't want anyone to see you in such state. So when he knocked on your door you couldn't help but tell him to go away.
"C'mon y/n you can't stay there a whole week. Imagine how boring it would be. Let me at least keep you company."
"Noooo, go do something else, please let me be."
He's not a quitter so he simply barged in like it was his own room.
"You know you're being a pain in my ass by not being a pain in the ass. You're supposed to yell at me for having the TV too loud, or for forgetting to take the trash out. This is no fun."
"I barely have the energy to have this conversation, do you think I'd yell at you?"
"Then let me take care of you for once, it's not fair you baby me when I catch a flu but I can't do the same to you."
You kept rolling your eyes mostly because of your sickness but he had a point. So after much thinking you gave him what he wanted, there's no way you could argue with wooyoung in this state and win.
You lifted the covers on the empty side of the bed and he flashed you his most honest smile.
"I knew you couldn't resist me."
"It's never too late to kick you out, quite literally."
"Not if I glue myself to you. If i go down you go down with me."
He tried wrapping his arms around your body but you quickly slapped his hands away.
"I'm too uncomfortable to be playing with you."
"I'll be gentle I promise, I'll rub your back, I'll play with your hair, playful woo is not in the room with us."
You once again gave in, his proposal was very tempting even if your pride wasn't letting you accept it fully, your silence was enough of a confirmation for Wooyoung.
He didn't lie when he said he'd be gentle, not like you ever doubted his words, but somehow this was helping way more than any medicine ever did.
And before you knew it you were sound asleep in your best friends arms.
previous// //next
#ateez fluff#ateez scenarios#ateez oneshots#ateez imagines#ateez soft hours#ateez masterlist#ateez x reader#ateez wooyoung#jung wooyoung#wooyoung oneshots#wooyoung imagines#wooyoung soft hours#wooyoung scenarios#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung fluff#the housemate chronicles#chaeinedup
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#ateez#ateez poll#wooyoung#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung x y/n#wooyoung x you#ateez imagines#wooyoung imagines#wooyoung oneshot#Wooyoung oneshots#ateez oneshot#Ateez oneshots#wooyoung headcanons#Wooyoung headcanon#ateez headcanons#Wooyoung angst#wooyoung fluff#ateez angst#ateez fluff#jung wooyoung
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prompt 56: (can we stay a little longer?) with either jaemin, wooyoung, or beomgyu, I will be happy for one of those three, so pick whoever you think is better!!
It shall be comfort and friends to lovers? Like maybe something happens to the reader and they go to one of those three for comfort and confess and its sweet and lovely and all of that jazz?
i don't know how relationships or going into relationships work, but that's what I'm thinking.
if you need more details, ask, i can try to be more specific! this just popped up in my head as soon as i saw your event. thank you!! (also, you're an amazing writer and i love your fics <3)
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝘇𝗼𝗻𝗲
jung wooyoung x gn!reader
1k words, angst/comfort elements, fluff if u squint, confession au, f2l
a/n: tysm for ur request !!! i don't think i was able to execute the comfort elements quite as well 😅 it did end up a little angsty sorry, but i hope u enjoy nonetheless :))
The high toned doorbell sounded through the apartment, and Jung Wooyoung stumbled through his living room, heels of his palms digging into his eyes to wake him up. After texting you about your apparent "date" or whatever today, he had fallen back into bed to hopefully sleep the disappointment and bitterness gnawing at his chest.
He peered through the peephole. He wasn't exactly expecting someone today, but he nearly flung the door clear off its hinges when he saw you standing on the other side. Well, standing was an understatement. Really, you were trembling like a leaf in the wind, drenched from head to toe in rain, your phone clutched so tightly in one hand that your knuckles were white.
"Oh my fucking—Yn, honey, what—" he stammered, hustling you in through his front door, then kicking it shut behind him.
You sniffled, teeth chattering. "Sorry," you rasped out, voice hoarse. You cleared it as he pushed you into his bathroom and yanked the shower curtain back. "My phone wasn't working."
"You don't need to say sorry to me, darling," he told you. The shower stream gushed open, and soon the bathroom was filled with hot, comforting steam. Wooyoung could hardly hear anything besides the blood pounding in his ears and the water running behind the curtain. He held you by the shoulders, gently prying your phone from your hand. "Hey, you're okay. Why don't you hop in the shower and get nice and warm for me, hm? Sound good to you?"
You nodded, afraid that if you opened your mouth again, it wouldn't be words.
Wooyoung nodded slowly back at you. He backed out of the bathroom, wondering if he should sit in there to talk to you while you showered. He chewed his bottom lip—no, you needed that time alone. He could speak with you all he wanted afterward.
Once the door was shut, he exhaled roughly, raking a hand through his hair. He examined your drowned phone with a frown, then dumped it into a bag of rice. Yeosang had once told him it worked, so it wouldn't hurt to try. Maybe if it didn't turn on, he could combine funds with you to get you a temporary one…
He collapsed onto the couch, wondering one too many things about what could have gone wrong on your date, and just who he needed to have a … talk with.
"...Woo?"
His head whipped up at the sound of your voice, small and meek. Your head poked out from the bathroom door, hair dripping wet, but it seemed you had a towel wrapped around yourself. "Hm?"
"Can you—could you get me some clothes please?"
Oh, idiot. Wooyoung squeaked that he would go get you something, then bolted into his room. You actually kept a few articles of clothing over at his place in case you ever slept over. He rummaged through your side of his drawers and withdrew a crewneck and a pair of sweatpants, plus some undergarments for you. He hoped you didn't notice the way his cheeks burned as he handed them off to you.
When you were finally finished, you crawled onto the couch next to Wooyoung, curling into his side. Your damp hair was cold against his neck, but he sighed in a sort of happiness that only you could gift him.
He gently rubbed your back and lowered the volume of the TV show he was watching earlier. "Are you okay?" He asked you softly to test the waters.
He felt you nod. "M'better now."
"That's… that's good," he sighed. Wooyoung drew the quilt over both of your laps, and you moved your legs to lie over his thighs. His eyes shuddered closed— "Do you wanna talk about it? Did they hurt you?"
Because he swore to God if they even touched a hair on your head.
"I got stood up." You played with a loose thread on the quilt. "The restaurant kicked me out after waiting for an hour. It started raining." And that was that. You weren't feeling good about yourself, understandably. Everything had gone wrong today and you wondered what you had done to deserve this sort of day. You'd thought this would be a nice step out of your comfort zone, but…
You snuggled into Wooyoung's warm embrace. Your comfort zone was right here, and it felt way too good to leave. Maybe you shouldn't have left it in the first place.
"Yn, I'm so sorry, honey," Wooyoung murmured to you. He didn't quite know what to say. Maybe something like he could treat you better. "You deserve so much better. I wish—" I wish it was me who you were seeing.
He cleared his throat. "Are you warm? I can get another blanket—"
"No, I'm okay. Thank you, Woo."
Could you feel the racing of his heart? It was gonna burst out of his chest any second now and expose him.
"Can I be honest with you?" You suddenly asked. When he prompted you to continue, you mustered up your confidence. "I like you a lot more than my dates."
Wooyoung let out a nervous giggle. "Well, I mean, I'd hope you like me more than your stupid dates, as your best friend—"
You flicked his arm with a pout and he laughed. "No, weirdo! You know what I mean."
He swallowed, looking over at you. There was this kind of vulnerability that shone in his eyes. "I just need you to be forward with me, Yn. I don't want to get my hopes up."
"That I love you?"
He blinked. "What?"
"That I'm in love with you," you repeated. Suddenly bashful, you smooshed your face against his bicep, bringing the blanket up to your chin.
Wooyoung cooed, and his hand gently drew your face out from its hiding place so he could touch his forehead to yours, his nose kissing the tip of yours. "Don't hide from me, okay? I love you, too—so much."
You smiled at him, and he grinned back, the kind of thing that was wide and boyish and beautiful. You lowered your head to rest right above his heart as Wooyoung adjusted the blanket again to engulf you both in warmth. "Do you mind if we stay like this a little longer?"
His heart galloped in your ear, and you felt his head rest over yours. "Yeah," he hummed, "we can stay like this for however long you'd like."
a/n: don't forget to rb, comment, etc if u liked it!! :3
atz m.list
permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @staysstrays @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @yedammi @rnjfy @jaehunny1428 @shakalakaboomboo @hoohoohope
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contentment - j.wy
➤ 02:49
“i can’t sleep.”
your comment elicited a sleepy groan from the man beside you.
“sweetheart, please, this is the fifth time, i’ve tried everything!!” wooyoung said exasperatedly, still facing away from you and pulling his blanket up to his head to block out your whining.
this had been going on for three hours now. you really had tried everything. once counting sheep and singing to yourself hadn’t helped, you decided to wake up your boyfriend and see if he could do anything. clearly, he couldn’t. he sang multiple songs to you, cuddled with you, even read you a bedtime story but you were still wide awake.
“i’m sorry i just really really can’t sleep. i don’t even know why,” you said apologetically, frowning to yourself.
wooyoung let out a long sigh and stood up, saying, “alright well i’m not sleep anymore, let’s go.”
you gave him a confused look and sat yourself up. the man beside you dragged you straight to the front door, made you put your shoes on and walked out the door. you quickly ran out behind him, thankfully not forgetting to lock the door.
“an explanation would be nice you know,” you called after wooyoung, who simply turned back and smiled.
“i have a foolproof plan babe, follow me!”
you did not know how to feel about that. but, as you saw wooyoung walk towards your parked car, a sense of comfort rushed through your veins, a smile unknowingly spreading across your face. you sprinted to him and jumped on his back in excitement.
“i love you, i love you, i love you!!” you squealed, placing sweet kisses on your boyfriend’s cheeks, as he laughed and held you tight, carrying you to the car.
drives with wooyoung were the best. his presence beside you as the both of you watched the world blur out was a feeling you couldn’t describe.
“can i drive?” you asked enthusiastically.
“with the state you’re in, i don’t think that’s a good idea.”
you tutted and got off wooyoung’s back, going to the passenger’s side and sitting down, wooyoung joining you a second later.
he pulled out, and the drive began. looking out the window, you saw people outside, the lights, the trees, the night sky, everything mixing up together in a blunder of colours. it was like you and wooyoung were the only people in the world, all the others reduced to blurred visions. with the man beside you, contentment was the only emotion you felt. even that was an understatement.
feeling the light breeze on your face, you were slowly lulled to sleep, your mouth slightly hanging open, and a tranquil look on your face. wooyoung smiled to himself as he stopped at a red light. he leaned across and placed a gentle kiss on the crown of your head.
“sleep well darling.”
#jung wooyoung#ateez#ateez x reader#wooyoung x reader#jung wooyoung x reader#wooyoung fluff#wooyoung drabble#late night drives#wooyoung timestamp#kpop x reader#kpop oneshots#wooyoung oneshots#ateez imagines
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WHEN YOU’RE ON YOUR PERIOD
My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works
Pairing: ATEEZ x fem reader
Total word count: 8,580
Note: I tried to be vague here in terms of sanitary products since I know everyone has different preferences, but pads are mentioned in Mingi’s segment
★ ────────────────── ★
𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆 | 홍중 | w.c. 900
Your eyes snapped open as you were awoken by a wave of painful cramps in your abdomen, the intensity so bad it made you physically react and curl in on yourself, your eyes squeezing shut in response. When that didn't bring any relief, you rolled over on your stomach, then onto your back with your arms resting on either side of your head as you stared at the ceiling.
You tried not to move around too much so as not to disturb your boyfriend, Hongjoong, who was sleeping soundly beside you. No doubt was he up half the night working on music, so you knew he needed his rest.
Quietly, you slipped out of bed to the bathroom and sifted thought your box of sanitary items to get something to put on before sliding back under the covers, silently praying the cramps would ease up enough for you to doze off.
Your fingers curled around the sheets, hands balled into fists as you tried to ignore the pain and go back to sleep. Minutes passed, though it felt like hours, and the cramps were too much to bare, so much that an unconscious, quiet whimper slipped past your lips, your face twisted in agony as you pressed it into your pillow. You didn't realize you had woken up your sleeping boyfriend until he called your name drowsily.
"Y/n? You alright?"
There was no hiding it at this point.
"Just my period. You should go back to sleep."
He ignored your suggestion and propped himself on his elbow, eyes scanning you worriedly. "Are you hurting?"
You nodded.
"Is it bad?"
"Enough to keep me from going back to sleep." You winced as another intense wave of cramps hit your lower abdomen.
"Do you need some medicine?"
"I didn't want to take any unless I absolutely have to."
"I think you need some." He commented, pulling back the covers.
"No." You put your hand out, stopping him from getting up. "You were up late and I'm sure you've got to go to the company and work on music later today."
"I can work on it here just the same as I can at work. I've got all my equipment with me."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." He nodded. "I'd rather be here at home to help take care of you anyway."
With that, he got up out of bed and shuffled down the hallway to the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of water and some pain medication to soothe your cramps.
"Here, love." He handed the bottle to you after returning to the bedroom, which you gratefully took, dropping a couple pills into your hand.
"Thanks." You popped the tablets into your mouth and washed them down with water before placing the bottle on the nightstand and slumping against the headboard with closed eyes.
A frown etched its way into Hongjoong's flawless features as he brought a hand up to brush your hair away from your face. Being a man, he was unsure of the amount of pain you were in or how intense it was. Despite that, he wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible during this time. He was fully aware that this was something you'd dealt with for a long time, yet he had a strong desire to care for you and help you through this time of the month. He cared for you too much to watch you suffer.
Your eyes opened to find Hongjoong still standing over you worriedly, his hand resting on top of your head.
"You can lay back down, you know." You chuckled softly.
He stayed in place for a couple seconds before giving in and crawling back into bed with you, his concerned gaze trained on you the entire time.
"Come here." You beckoned him over and he was by your side in an instant.
"Are you going to be okay?" He asked, his hand finding your lower abdomen and rubbing gentle circles over it.
"Of course I will. I just need to give this medicine time to kick in and do it's thing."
"How are your cramps?"
"They still hurt and I'm still uncomfortable, but the little massage feels nice."
"Good." He smiled, applying a little more pressure causing your eyelids to slide closed.
It's true, the massage was enough to lessen the pain, only the tiniest bit, but it was the gesture that counted.
"Are you feeling hot? Or cold? Are you getting chills? Do you need more blankets? If you're too hot I can turn the air conditioner up or bring a fan in here."
"You act like I'm sick or something." You tittered softly at his rambling. "This is just something I have to deal with every month. I'm used to it."
"That doesn't mean I can't take care of you."
"I guess you're right."
"I know I'm right." He grinned. "You still didn't answer my question."
A light chuckle left you. "I'm fine, Joong."
"Alright. I'll stop with the questions now. But if you need anything, and I mean anything, you let me know. If you're craving something specific or need another bottle of water, anything, just say something."
A fond smile graced your features as you brought your hand up to Hongjoong's hair, lovingly running your fingers through it. "What did I do to deserve you?"
"You're just lucky, I guess." He grinned.
𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐖𝐀 | 성화 | w.c. 850
A knock at your front door sounded through your mostly quiet apartment as you lied in bed curled into a ball.
Not fully awake, you didn't register the persistent knocking for quite some time. Only when it got louder did you sit upright, letting out a frustrated groan. You had started your period the day before and your symptoms were terrible. Your cramps were so bad you had to lie down with a hot pack across your abdomen, the heat making you sweat, though every time you took the pack off, you got goosebumps along your skin and felt freezing cold. To make matters worse, there were breakouts on your face, blotting your skin with ugly, discolored spots, all of these things making you feel gross overall. You hoped whoever was at the door wasn't someone important as you went to answer it.
Your heart dropped to your feet when you saw your boyfriend standing outside.
"Seonghwa!" You exclaimed out of surprise, hurrying to cover your face. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to surprise you. Is it a bad time?"
Yes. Is what you wanted to say.
"I..." You trailed off.
"Are you sick?"
"No. I just look terrible right now."
"That doesn't bother me." He chuckled.
You flinched away when you felt his fingers trying to wrap around your wrists.
"No." You groaned, keeping your hands planted firmly on your face. "It's that time of the month and I'm sweaty, my clothes are soaked, my face is covered in breakouts, I'm bloated, and I'm cramping so so badly that I want to cry."
"Hey." He called out softly, pulling your hands away.
You avoided eye contact with him, not wanting him to see you in such a disheveled state.
His gaze softened when he looked at you, a gentle smile gracing his lips.
"You still look beautiful to me."
You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew Seonghwa was a genuine person and maybe, even though it was hard to believe, you did look beautiful in his eyes.
"Come on. I have an idea." He took your hand, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind him before leading you to your bathroom.
You weren't sure what he had in mind, but whatever it was he seemed pleased with himself, so you weren't going to stop him.
Once in your bathroom, he let go of your hand and started rummaging through your cabinets.
"Alright, let's see." He muttered to himself, scanning the items in your bathroom closet.
"Hwa, what are you doing?" You finally asked, a light chuckle accompanying your question.
"I'm giving you a spa day."
"A spa day?" You echoed, your heart fluttering slightly.
"Yeah." He pulled a towel and washcloth from the bathroom closet. "You're feeling bad and what better way to help than to have a spa day? Plus, you deserve to be pampered."
You didn't know if it was your period or your overwhelming love and appreciation for Seonghwa, but you felt like crying.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, my love." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "Bath or shower?"
"Shower."
Though a bath would be nice, nothing beat the feeling of hot water hitting your lower abdomen, right where the cramps were.
Seonghwa was nice enough to get the shower running for you, sticking his hand in to check the water temperature and make sure it was hot enough.
You thanked him as he left the room, removing your clothes after the door clicked shut. The warm steam hitting your skin as you stepped into the shower was a welcomed feeling. You managed to get through your usual shower routine, the hot water helping to soothe your persistently painful cramps, at least long enough for you to finish bathing.
Once out of the shower, you changed into the fresh pair of clothes you brought with you and used the feminine product you had laid out.
Upon exiting the bathroom, you found Seonghwa laid out on your bed.
"How was your shower?"
"Wonderful. I even cleansed my face while I was in there. I feel so refreshed."
"Well, we're not done yet." He got up off the bed. "Come on."
Guiding you back into the bathroom, Seonghwa opened up a little cabinet beside your sink where all your skincare products were stored and pulled out a small box of acne patches.
He plucked one of the star-shaped pimple patches off the plastic sheet, gently instructing you to stay still while he placed the patch onto your face, covering one of the blemishes.
"One more." He murmured, pulling off a second one and sticking it to your chin.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." He placed a kiss to your forehead. "Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?"
"I'm fine for now. Thank you, though. What I would really like is to cuddle up in bed with you, a heating pad, and something to watch."
"I can arrange that." He smiled happily. "But first, let's get you some pain medicine for those pesky cramps."
"That sounds like a good idea."
𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎 | 윤호 | w.c. 1,500
Music echoed throughout the practice room as Yunho danced, hitting each move with sharp precision. His facial expressions were intense and full of emotion as if he were putting on an actual performance on stage in front of fans.
You sat in a chair by the wall, watching him with a mesmerized gaze, enraptured by not only him, but his talent and overflowing passion for dancing. Every so often he would glance at you through the mirror, giving you a little smirk before continuing with his routine, knowing the effect he had on you, especially with the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up to show off his arms.
As you watched, you were suddenly hit with a wave of cramps so painful it caused you to lean forward a bit, almost curling in on yourself. Your face scrunched up in response to the sharp pain.
You had started your period the night before and was expecting to be hit with these terrible cramps sooner or later—it always happened. When you first start, things are light as your body prepares to run its natural cycle, then on the first official day it hits... and it hits hard. Normally, you're woken up in the early morning hours with the most awful cramps, one's that prevent you from sleeping for a while, but on days like this it hits when you're least expecting it.
Rummaging through your bag, you retrieved a small bottle of menstrual pain relief pills, grateful that you carried some with you at all times. Shaking one out into your palm, you grabbed the bottle of water by your chair and used it to take the medication, thankfully going unnoticed by Yunho. Though you wished it would work right away and rid you of this pain and discomfort, you knew that wouldn't happen.
Attempting to ignore the throbbing in your abdomen, you continued watching your boyfriend move across the wooden flooring of the practice room, hoping for a distraction.
Who were you kidding? Nothing could distract you from from the stabbing pain you were experiencing.
The song ended and Yunho moved over to mess with his phone, choosing another song to dance to, his chest heaving up and down as he huffed out short breaths.
"You're doing so good." You praised him, putting on a smile.
"Thanks." He panted. "I think I'm gonna do a couple more songs before I take a break."
"Don't overwork yourself, okay?"
"I know." He smiled softly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.
The next song started to play and he moved back to the center of the room to begin the routine. You crossed your legs and wrapped your arms around your midsection, curling in a bit in an attempt to get some relief. It seemed one of the best positions to be in during your monthly was curling up in a ball, of course, you couldn't exactly do that right now as you were sitting in a chair.
Your cramps eased up for a moment only to return a few seconds later, goosebumps rising on your skin as the air in the practice room suddenly felt cooler than it was moments before. At the same time, you felt yourself starting to sweat a bit.
Great. You groaned internally.
These were the worst kind of cramps; the ones where you're hot but you're cold at the same time, unable to find a comfortable temperature.
Halfway through the song, Yunho noticed your behavior. He caught you squeezing your eyes shut every so often, seeing an uncomfortable expression on your face and the stiffness in your posture. His dancing immediately ceased as he headed towards you, turning the music down.
"Are you okay, love? You look a little washed out." He commented, placing his hand on your forehead. "What's going on?"
"I got hit with the worst cramps ever." You groaned, giving up your act as you slumped forward in both defeat and agony.
"Oh, baby." Yunho cooed, crouching on the floor beside you, his hand rubbing your back. "Do you need some medicine?"
"I took some a few minutes ago. Just waiting for it to kick in."
"Why don't I take you home so you can rest."
"No. You need to practice."
"I've been practicing long enough. You need to be somewhere with a heating pad."
"That sounds nice." You sighed, imagining the soothing heat pressed against your aching lower abdomen.
"Let's go."
"I can't help but feel like I'm preventing you from practicing." You murmured after stepping into the elevator.
"You're not." He assured you, grabbing hold of your hand. "I wanted to get a little practice in and I did."
The last thing you wanted was to be a burden. Yunho was a famous K-pop idol whose group had a giant fanbase. He needed to practice hard and spend hours at the company to perfect and improve his dancing and performance skills. Somehow, you felt you were a distraction that would cause your boyfriend to get in trouble with the entertainment company for "slacking off".
Yunho, who could tell by the distant look in your eyes that you were lost in a whirl of troublesome and perhaps even negative thoughts, gave your hand a light squeeze, bringing you back to reality.
"Are you hungry?" He asked. "Dancing really worked up my appetite."
"Yeah." You nodded. "I had a light breakfast so I could definitely go for some food."
"Good. We can go back to the dorm and I'll order us something. You can pick whatever you want. Oh, I have a heating pad too. That should help with your cramps."
"But I don't have any... stuff there." You responded.
You had one or two menstrual items with you in your bag, but that wouldn't be enough to last you a visit at Yunho's.
"Oh. Don't worry about it. I can stop by a store on the way and buy whatever you need."
His offer was so sweet it had you falling for him all over again.
"You don't have to do all that."
"I don't mind." His round eyes sparkled with the genuine desire to help you out in any way he possibly could.
The elevator doors slid open and the both of you headed through the lobby and out onto the sidewalk where Yunho's car was parked on the curb.
At the dorm, Yunho handed you the plastic bag with the feminine products he had purchased for you on the way.
"What would you like to eat? I can go ahead and order it."
After going through a list of things you were craving, you decided on one and let Yunho know.
Just before he left the room to place the order, he stopped at the doorway. "If you want to change into something more comfortable, you have free range of my closet."
As soon as he left the room, you wasted no time scurrying over to his closet and rummaging through his shirts. What you currently had on was comfortable, but there was no way you'd pass up the opportunity to wear Yunho's clothes.
Pulling one of your favorite shirts of his from the closet, you brought it with you to the bathroom where you switched out feminine products and changed into the cozy shirt.
Yunho returned just a couple minutes later to inform you the order had been placed before rummaging through his closet, pulling out a heating pad.
"Come on." He beckoned, pulling back the covers of his bed and nodding towards the empty space.
You slid under the sheets, staring up at Yunho who worked to plug up the pad.
"You should lie down and use this while we wait on the food. Then maybe your cramps will be gone and you can fully enjoy your meal."
Your heart swelled with adoration at his words.
Yunho laid the heating pad across your stomach before resting his hand on top of it.
"How's that feel?" His gentle voice asked.
"So good." You sighed out, closing your eyes. "My cramps eased up a bit on the ride over here, but this heat is doing wonders."
"Good." The smile in Yunho's voice was evident as he leaned in, brushing your hair away from your forehead to place a gentle kiss there.
You peeled your eyes open to see Yunho grabbing his dog-shaped body pillow which he designed for his birthday merchandise.
"Here. You can hold Pudeongie."
You chuckled, taking the pillow from him and hugging it to your side. Though you preferred to cuddle with Yunho, you couldn't exactly do that with the heating pad laying over your lower abdomen.
"Thank you for taking care of me." You hummed.
"You're welcome, beautiful." He combed a hand through your hair. "I need to get a quick shower and wash all this sweat off. Then we can cuddle properly while we wait for our food."
A content smile settled onto your features. "That sounds perfect."
𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 | 여상 | w.c. 1,000
Twice. That's how many times you cried over a commercial that day. Why? Well, you were blaming it on your period, especially since grocery store commercials didn't normally tug at your heartstrings on a normal day. I mean, how can you possibly keep it together when there's a commercial about an animated man who's little granddaughter pulls out an old recipe book from his deceased wife that he hadn't opened in years?
You were wiping away tears that were threatening to spill when your phone chimed from its spot beside you on the couch. Flipping the device over, you were met with your boyfriend's contact photo taking up the entirety of your screen. It was a FaceTime call. Your thumb swiped to accept the call, holding the phone up so he could see you.
"Hi, angel." He flashed that heart-melting smile of his, waving to the camera.
Judging by the background, he was at his dorm in his bedroom.
"Hi, Sangie."
His large eyes suddenly became sad, worried even, while his lips stuck into a pout. "Were you crying? Are you okay?"
"Oh." You glanced at yourself in the camera, noticing the slightly glossy look your eyes were currently sporting.
It wasn't super obvious that you had been tearing up, but Yeosang was always so perceptive when it came to you.
"My emotions are all crazy. I got choked up watching a commercial." You chuckled, finding it a bit humorous.
"So you're not sad?" He wanted to be certain that you weren't upset.
"No." You laughed softly. "Just hormonal."
Yeosang's brows raised, his eyes becoming wider in sudden realization. Then came the flood of questions.
"Do you need anything? Are you hurting? Should I pick up some pads? Tampons? Do you have enough pain relievers? Are you drinking lots of water? I heard being active helps cramps. Have you been active? Are you taking vitamins? There are supplements that help ease period symptoms. Should I get you some of those?"
"I'm fine, Yeosang." You cut in before he could continue, chuckling endearingly at his concerned rambling. "I'm not hurting too bad. It's only the third day so my cramps aren't too bad. They come and go, but they're not as severe as they were on day one. Yes I'm drinking water, maybe not enough, but I'm drinking it. And I've been lounging on the couch since I got out of bed."
"Ah. Sorry. I guess I got carried away." That tiny, shy smile of his made its appearance as he rubbed the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. "Have you been eating fruits or something healthy?"
You nearly snorted. "Actually, I've been indulging in some of the cravings I've been having." You lifted a bag of your favorite chips to the camera. "So, what are you up to?"
"I called because I don't have a schedule today and I wanted to see if you'd like to hang out."
Just the thought of spending time with Yeosang made your heart soar with excitement.
"I would love to."
"Since you're on your period, I'll come to your place. If that's okay with you."
"Yeah." You nodded. "That's perfect, actually."
"Okay." He beamed. "I'll start making my way right now."
"I'll be waiting." You waved. "Love you."
"Love you too."
The FaceTime ended and you tossed your phone back to the couch cushion, briefly considering wether or not you should leave your comfortable spot on the sofa and put some makeup on. It didn't take long for you to to completely disregard the idea. After all, you had just FaceTimed him and he saw your makeup-free (and slightly blemished) face so there was no need covering it up.
A gentle knock on your front door sounded just fifteen minutes after your call with Yeosang. You leapt from your seat and scurried to answer the door. The man you had been longing to see stepped inside, wrapping his arms around you in a cozy embrace while he gently rocked the both of you side to side.
"I'm so happy to see you."
"I'm happy to see you too, precious." He pulled away, gazing at you with those sparkly, brown eyes of his. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm cramping, but it's nothing too bad. Not right now, anyway."
"You sure?"
"Mhm."
"What do you feel like doing?"
"Well, I was watching TV on the couch but I'd kind of like to lie down."
"Okay then we'll cuddle in bed and have a movie marathon."
You hummed in agreement and tugged Yeosang further into your home, guiding him to your bedroom where the both of you got comfortable under the covers.
Your boyfriend had barely gotten situated before you were resting your head on his chest and snuggling into his side.
It was a blessing that Yeosang wanted to come over because it's exactly what you needed at that moment. Being cuddled up next to him made your heart swell and provided you with a cozy feeling in your chest.
"What would you like to watch?" He reached for the remote.
"Actually, do you think you could sing to me?"
Yeosang stiffened just the slightest bit, clearly not expecting the request.
"Of course. Any song suggestions?"
"Whatever you want to sing." You murmured, snuggling further into his chest.
A gentle smile graced Yeosang's statuesque features as he began singing a current favorite song of his. His fingers ran through your hair in a gentle and soothing manner, your eyes fluttering closed in response as you listened to his silky voice, which was doing a great job at distracting you from your cramps that were thankfully going away on their own, albeit slowly.
Yeosang's voice was heavenly. From his low register to his faint lisp that could be heard in his singing. It all had your heart doing somersaults in your chest.
"So beautiful." You murmured sleepily, as Yeosang's gentle ministrations were making you drowsy. "Thank you, Yeo."
This was all you needed.
𝐒𝐀𝐍 | 산 | w.c. 1,400
4 AM. That's what time you were finally able to get to sleep the night before. It was that time of the month and your incessant cramps were so bad not even Midol could fix it. You were miserable. Normally, you could ignore any mild cramps that would inconveniently hit just as you were going to bed, but these were the kind that kept you awake, the pain just a little too intense for you to relax, leaving you tossing and turning for hours on end. Between the cramps and having to get up to pee every five minutes, there was no way you could rest.
It was after barely after 4 AM when your cramps eased up just enough for you to relax and finally doze off.
Presently, it was 12 PM, which meant you got a decent eight hours of sleep, even though your body felt like it needed just a smidge more.
You pushed yourself out of bed, giving a brief glance at the fitted sheet wrapped around the mattress to make sure you didn't have any overnight leaks. With no stains in sight, you shuffled to the bathroom where you went through your usual routine and freshened up, which woke you up a bit and made you feel a little less crappy.
You swapped your PJs for some loose-fitting sweats and one of your boyfriend's shirts that he left at your place before heading to the living room to turn on the television. After a few moments of mindless channel surfing, you found a show that grabbed your attention and decided to watch.
It didn't take long for your cramps to start up again. The ache, while annoying, wasn't anything too unbearable, not like last night, anyway. So you ignored it, sinking further into the couch cushions while keeping your eyes locked on the TV.
You made it through the remainder of the episode before the cramps really ramped up, the sudden increase in pain and discomfort causing you to lurch forward.
Your face contorted in agony, the sharp jabs in your abdomen leading you to jump to your feet and make a beeline for the kitchen where the medicine was kept. You tore open the cabinet and located the pain medicine you so desperately needed. Since your cramps were just as bad as they were in the early morning hours, you took two pills, assuring you'd get the minimum amount of pain relief.
With a hot pack laid across your lower abdominal area, you settled back into the couch cushions and proceeded to watch television, doing your best to focus on the show. Sometimes having a distraction helped to take your attention off the wrath Mother Nature was thrusting upon your uterus.
At some point, you unconsciously started rocking back and forth, partially hunched over. The heat paired with the movement seemed to be helping just a little, however now a very thin layer of sweat covered your forehead and on your shirt where the hot pack was pressed against your abdomen was a damp spot. You huffed, pulling off the hot pack to fan your shirt a bit and cool off. That only caused a wave of goosebumps to rise along your skin, the air in your home being a little too cold for your linking. So you laid the hot pack back across your abdomen. This went back and forth for the next ten minutes or so, only adding to your frustration and discomfort.
"Ha. Ha. I love being a woman." You commented dryly to no one at all, wrapping your arms around your midsection.
You probably looked pathetic all crumpled up and curled in on yourself but you were in the privacy of your own home and you were in extreme pain. You'd do whatever it took to get it to go away.
The stabbing cramps had gotten so bad in such a short amount of time. Your brain was in a haze and all you could think about was the pain. Just when you felt you had reached your limit, your phone rang.
Fumbling for the device, you lifted it to see who was calling. It was San, your loving boyfriend whom you were suddenly missing very much. You accepted the call and raised the phone to your ear.
"Hello, gorgeous." His silky voice came through the speaker.
"Hi, Sannie." You did your best to sound cheery, but the greeting came out as a sort of pained grunt.
"Are you okay?" The pout in his voice was evident.
"No. Not really." You answered honestly. "I'm on my period."
A tiny gasp was heard on his end followed by an, "Oh no."
"Yeah."
"You poor thing." He cooed. "Why don't I come take care of you."
"That would be great."
"I'll be over there as soon as I can, baby."
Less than 20 minutes later, there was a knock at your door which had your heart jumping for joy. As soon as you opened the door, San walked in and pulled you into a hug.
"Hi dear." He murmured as he stroked the top of your head. "Are you hurting?"
"Very much so."
"Ah." He nodded knowingly as you parted ways. "I know what I have to do."
He balled his hands into fists, crouching down at bit so he was level with your lower abdomen. Before you had the chance to question what he was doing, he began to punch the area where your uterus was, stopping right in front of it because, well, he would never actually hit you.
"Stop!" He demanded sharply, going in for another punch. "Stop it."
The phrase was uttered during each strike of his fist, his words being punctuated by his actions.
The chuckles that had begun to spill from your lips were now turning into full on laughter as your boyfriend continued punching at your lower abdomen, demanding that it "stop".
"Thank you, Sannie." You giggled.
The both of you made yourselves comfortable on the couch where San immediately wrapped his arms around you and held you close.
"If you need anything, let me know."
"Okay." You tittered softly.
Having San with you provided a good enough distraction to take your mind off the discomfort in your abdominal area. He would make comments about something on TV and ask questions to help keep you occupied with things besides period pains.
At some point, you stood up and excused yourself to go switch feminine products, doing so in just a couple minutes.
It was only when you were returning to the living room that you realized your abdominal cramps had gone away but a persistent, dull ache had become present in your lower back.
Your face twitched slightly as you shuffled towards the couch, catching your always observant boyfriend's attention.
"What is it?" He asked.
"I'm having cramps in my back."
"You have period cramps in your back?" San asked in disbelief.
"Sometimes." You sighed, unconsciously massaging your lower spine.
Your boyfriend was baffled. San knew periods could be a pain and there were lots of symptoms that varied in intensity, but this was crazy. Why would you get pain in other areas? He didn't think that was very fair.
"Come here." San took your hands, leading you to your bedroom where he insisted you lie down on your stomach.
You did as he asked, getting yourself comfortable on the mattress before feeling it dip under San's weight.
"Tell me where it hurts." His hands placed themselves on your spine.
"Lower."
His palms slid further down your back.
"Right there."
San's thumbs rubbed over the muscles a few times, making long upward strokes as he applied pressure on the sore spots. A sigh passed through your slightly parted lips as relief washed over you.
"Is that good?" He inquired tentatively.
"So good."
San hated that this was something you had to deal with every month. Even though that's just how things were and he couldn't do anything about it, it didn't seem fair.
"I'm sorry you're feeling so icky, pretty."
"I'm far from pretty right now." You chuckled.
"Not true."
His ministrations came to a halt as you lifted your head just enough to glance back at him.
"I'm serious." He insisted with a pout.
"You're too sweet." You dropped your head back onto the pillow as he continued massaging.
"Only for you, lovely."
𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈 | 민기 | w.c. 900
If there was one thing about your period, it was that it showed up at the most inconvenient time.
Mingi's body moved with such fluidity that it had you mesmerized—hypnotized, even. His body control was out of this world and never failed to hold your attention. His oversized sleeveless tee hung off his slim figure, the thin fabric swinging about as he danced with rigor and passion. His movements were so intense sometimes that the hem of his shirt would fly up and reveal his tiny waist and smooth stomach. The sight was a small blessing to your eyes and just another perk of watching him get in an extra practice session on his weekend off. His brows were pulled together in concentration, his sharp eyes fixed on his reflection, inspecting his own movements. He had no idea you were practically drooling over him in the corner of the room.
You were having a wonderful time when suddenly you felt it... the gush.
Right away, you sat upright and pushed yourself up from your seat, standing stiffly in place.
This abrupt and unusual reaction caught Mingi's attention almost immediately and had him scrambling to pause the music.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I just need to go to the bathroom." You excused yourself and headed straight for the practice room door, trying your best to walk normally instead of the usual stiff-legged hobble you would be doing if you were at home.
You had started your period the day prior and it was already in full swing, hitting you with all it had. This morning before you left, everything was light, so you assumed this time around you'd ease into it, but you were so very wrong.
In the bathroom, you closed the stall door behind you, making sure to lock it before taking a seat to assess the damage.
"Oh boy." You whispered under your breath, reaching for your bag and rummaging for an extra pad in the inner side zipper. Empty.
Oh no.
Normally, you had extra feminine hygiene products with you, however, it seemed this time you had forgotten to replace them.
Great.
After washing your hands, you returned to the practice room, shifting from one foot to the other. It appeared that Mingi hadn't moved since you left the room, his normally narrow eyes now round with worry.
"Is everything okay?"
"Uh." You rubbed the back of your neck.
Just say it. It's a normal thing, Y/n. You reminded yourself. There's nothing to be embarrassed about.
"I don't have any pads with me." You confessed embarrassedly.
Mingi blinked owlishly a few times, not quite understanding what you meant.
You gave a vague nod down towards your lower half, trying to communicate without saying it outright.
Mingi's eyes became wider in realization.
"Ohh!"
"Yeah." You sighed. "I forgot to put more in my bag and I need one... like right now."
You were about to apologize for needing to leave so abruptly so you could take care of the problem when Mingi spoke up.
"Stay here. I'll go find you one."
"What?" You questioned, your eyes following him as he hurriedly exited the practice room.
Without receiving a response, you dropped down into the chair you occupied before your hasty exit moments earlier, waiting patiently for your boyfriend to return.
Mingi moved down the halls of KQ, searching for any staff that may be nearby. He popped his head into empty offices and meeting rooms, turning corners and scouring the place for any employees wandering about. The entertainment company had many staff members, so it shouldn't be that hard.
He came upon one of the lounges, poking his head into the room to find two female staff members having a quick snack together.
"Excuse me." He spoke timidly, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed to ask for feminine products. "Do either of you happen to have any... pads?"
He was quick to put himself back in place, reminding himself that he was helping you out.
You were his girlfriend and if you needed a pad then gosh darn it he was going to get one for you, embarrassed or not.
"Oh. I'm sorry I don't." One of the women apologized.
"I do, but I left my bag in my office on the next floor." The other responded.
"Ah."
Mingi didn't want to inconvenience the woman, especially since she probably had a busy schedule so he thanked them both and left, continuing his search.
He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes darted around, reading the labels on each door that lined the hall in search of his next place to check.
After three tries, Mingi was able to get you a pad, which he hoped was enough to sustain you for the duration of his solo practice.
Your boyfriend reentered the practice room, holding up the plastic-wrapped square like it was a trophy.
"I got it."
You plucked the item from his hand, pulling him into a hug.
"You didn't have to do that. I was just gonna go to a nearby store and buy some."
"I knew I could find one quicker by asking around."
You smiled softly. "Thank you."
"Of course." He brushed your hair out of your face. "You feeling alright?"
"For now."
"If you need to go home, just let me know."
"I will. Thanks, Mingi."
𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 | 우영 | w.c. 980
You stepped down the aisle that housed all the feminine products you could ever need, Wooyoung coming to a stop beside you as you eyed the pad and tampon section.
"So what size pu—"
"Don't even finish that sentence." You cut him off, raising your hand to stop him. "I don't want to hear that phrase or that word come out of your mouth."
"Yes ma'am." He saluted.
Huffing, you proceeded further down the aisle until you found what you were looking for.
While scanning the different sizes of products available on the shelves, your ever curious boyfriend wandered up and down the aisle to keep himself busy.
Once you acquired what you were looking for, you turned to see Wooyoung holding a box of tampons, examining the packaging.
"You put these inside you?" He asked in disbelief.
"Woo, put those back."
He did as he was told, his face twisted in either disgust or discomfort, you couldn't tell, as he did so.
"Alright. I've got everything I need." You announced, preparing to head to the register until you realized Wooyoung stayed put, staring with furrowed brows at the plethora of feminine products lining the shelves.
"What is it?"
"Why are there so many?" He asked. "How do you even know what to get?"
"It all depends on what you're comfortable with. Some people prefer tampons, others prefer pads."
"Okay but the pictures on these are different." He pointed to a section of pads.
"Right. Some have wings so the pad stays in place and doesn't squish up and some don't. Again, that's all depending on personal preference. Some pads are thin while others are thick so they can absorb more. They vary in size as well. Some people like longer pads so they don't have a leak while they're sleeping or lying down."
Wooyoung's eyes remained wide, his brows pulled together as he soaked in all this new information, scanning over each plastic package.
"How do you know if you need thin pads or thick ones?"
"That depends on your flow."
"Flow?" He echoed.
You did not expect to be having an in-depth conversation about periods with your boyfriend in the middle of the feminine hygiene aisle but there you were.
Then again, he grew up with brothers. Of course he wouldn't know everything about a woman's menstrual cycle. Also you didn't think that was something that a mother would talk to her son about, especially in detail.
"You know how you can barely turn a faucet on and the water runs just a little, but when you turn it more, a lot of water comes out?"
He nodded.
"That's how it is with periods."
"So you can turn it off?"
"Unfortunately not. That's why we need these things." You gestured to the array of feminine products. "What I mean is, with some people their flow is heavy while others are lighter, so you buy products according to that."
"It's not the same for everyone?"
"Not at all. Some people have very heavy flows. I've even heard of people buying bladder leak pads because they're more absorbent."
"It gets that bad?" Wooyoung gaped.
"Mhm." You nodded.
"And it's the same for the other things too?"
"Tampons."
"Right. That."
"Yes. They've got different sizes according to your flow as well."
"Wow. That's so complicated."
"Not when you've lived with it most of your life." You chuckled. "Let's go."
"Girls get cravings for chocolate when they're on their period, right?" Wooyoung asked as the both of you made your way towards the front of the store.
"It's not always chocolate, but yes. Cravings tend to happen." You responded.
"What do you usually crave?" He asked.
"Usually sweet stuff, but it differs."
"Should I get you some?"
Your expression softened as you looked at him, seeing the genuine care in his eyes.
"Sure."
"Come on then. Let's go see what they have." Wooyoung took hold of your free hand, pulling you towards the snack aisle which was packed with junk food and sweets.
You perused the shelves, trying to figure out what sounded good at the moment.
"Pick whatever you want." Wooyoung told you. "My treat."
That made you stop. "What?"
"Your period stuff, snacks, I'll pay for all of it."
For someone who was making period jokes earlier, he sure was being sweet.
You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his thoughtful offer.
On the way home, you decided to tease Wooyoung since he barely knew anything about periods, curious to see his reaction to a particular prank you'd seen circulating the internet.
"Did you know pads and tampons come in different flavors?"
Wooyoung's eyes widened. "Flavors?"
"Yeah. Didn't you notice the colors and pictures on the packaging?"
"Yes."
"The color is whatever flavor they are. Green is green apple, purple is grape, pink is strawberry and so on."
"Wait really?"
"Yeah."
"Why? What's the point?"
You shrugged, holding back a grin.
"Are you being serious right now? Do they really have flavors?"
"No." You laughed, throwing your head back as you let loose a string of cackles.
"Y/n, that's so mean." Wooyoung pouted. "I almost believed you."
"Sorry." You laughed. "I just wanted to see if I could get by with it."
"I bought you snacks." His full lips were stuck out as he spoke, his arms crossed over his chest.
"I was just teasing, love." You nudged him.
Unable to keep up his act any longer, Wooyoung cracked a small smile.
"That was pretty good, actually."
"I know." You grinned.
"I think you should make it up to me though"
"How?" Your eyes narrowed, wondering what sort of deal he was preparing to strike up.
"Play video games with me when we get home."
A smiled made its way onto your face at his proposal. "I think that can be arranged."
𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎 | 종호 | w.c. 1,050
The sunlight that seeped in through the window hit your closed eyelids, the intrusion pulling you from your sleep just enough to make you aware of it. You rolled over in bed keeping your eyes shut, snuggling further into your plush pillow. As you slowly began to wake, you stretched your arm across the bed, reaching for Jongho only to be met with an empty space, the palm of your hand hitting the sheets that were crumpled from being haphazardly tossed back into place. The lack of his presence made you frown, sitting up on your elbow while searching the room.
All thoughts of your temporarily missing boyfriend flew right out the bedroom window as a sticky and somewhat uncomfortable feeling below caught your attention. The all too familiar heart-stopping feeling was something you knew well. Without wasting another second, you shot up out of bed, jerking back the covers to find an ugly, red stain on the fitted sheet.
"No, no, no, no, no." You murmured the same word over and over again in a panic.
This was Jongho's bed and it was his sheets you'd just ruined.
"Crap." You hissed, rushing to your bag to grab an extra pair of underwear and fresh pants, taking your toiletry bag with you as you slipped into the bathroom to clean yourself up. While in the bathroom, you managed to get most of the bloodstain off your panties thanks to some cold water and hand soap, which seemed to do the trick. The process was repeated for your pajama bottoms.
Once you were finished, you went back to Jongho's room and promptly stripped his bed, wadding your stained underwear and pajama pants up with them.
You weren't sure where Jongho was, but you hoped you could make it to the laundry room without being noticed.
The universe must've been against you because as soon as you stepped out of the bedroom, Jongho was standing there in the hallway.
"Jongho." You uttered his name dumbly.
"Y/n, you're awake." He smiled softly, his eyes dropping down to the crumpled wad of fabric in your arms. "Why do you have the sheets?"
"I sweat pretty bad last night." You lied. "I didn't want to leave your sheets stinky so I'm going to wash them."
"Oh. You don't have to do that. I can wash them."
You pulled the heap away from him just as he reached out to take them from you. "It's okay. I got it. Really."
He held his hands up in surrender. "Alright."
You hurried past him and into the laundry room, lying the sheet across the top of the washer and dryer along with your underwear and pajama bottoms as you rummaged through Jongho's detergent to see if he had a stain stick or something to pretreat the splotch before tossing it into the wash.
You pushed past bleach, fabric softener, and laundry scent crystals, but you couldn't seem to find any stain remover.
Jongho heard your noisy rummaging from the other room, going to check on you and see if you needed any help. When he stepped into the laundry room he saw his sheets laid out, a dark red stain standing out against the gray fabric. Along with it was your panties and the pair of pajama bottoms you had worn to bed the night before, an equally as noticeable stain on them as well.
Your eyes were blown wide like a deer in the headlights as embarrassment and mortification hit you like a massive wave, your entire face set on fire due to the situation.
Not only had Jongho seen the ugly stain you left on his (probably expensive) sheets, but your underwear and pajama bottoms as well.
You should have moved. You should have scrambled to grab your panties and hidden them behind your back, but you were completely frozen in place, unable to move. As if that wasn't bad enough, you could feel what was sure to be a painful series of cramps coming on in your lower abdomen.
Jongho's eyes met yours and you let loose, sputtering what could only be classified as word vomit.
"I'm so sorry I ruined your sheets. I promise I'll get the stain out. I know it's gross and it's embarrassing."
"It's not gross." He responded, his expression showing no disgust whatsoever. "You can't control it."
"What?"
Jongho shrugged. "It's only natural."
You couldn't ignore the way your heart thumped. Of course Jongho wouldn't think something like this was a big deal. You should've known better. Nothing ever phased him.
Jongho's eyes drifted back over to the sheets on the washer where your undergarment was still laid out for him to see.
"Don't look at those." You stepped in front of your unmentionables to block his view.
"Why?" He chuckled amusedly. "It's just underwear. You've seen mine before."
"That's because you don't know how to keep your room clean and they're tossed on the floor."
"Touché. But it's still just underwear. No big deal." He stepped forward, rubbing the top of your head. "You're worrying too much, pretty."
You huffed softly, sticking out your bottom lip in reluctant defeat.
"Now let's take care of these sheets. What were you looking for in here?"
"Something to pretreat the stain."
"Ah." Jongho moved over to his laundry products, pulling out a spray bottle. "I believe this is what you were searching for. This should do the trick. I've used it to get coffee stains out of my clothes plenty of times. Works like a charm."
"Thanks." You took the bottle from him and sprayed the stains on everything before tossing them into the washing machine.
"I'll start the wash." Jongho volunteered, messing with the settings and starting the laundry cycle.
He came up and rubbed your back soothingly.
"You feeling alright?"
"For now. The cramps haven't started up yet, but I'm sure they will."
"If they do, I've got a heating pad you can use."
Your gaze softened while a gentle smile graced your features. "Thank you."
"Of course." He stroked your hair in a caring manner. "Are you hungry? You want anything to eat?"
"Some breakfast sounds nice."
"Alright. I'll make you your favorite." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You just sit and I'll make it."
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Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!
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🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz
#ateez x reader#ateez x you#ateez x y/n#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez reactions#ateez oneshot#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#kpop oneshots
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bf texts w/ poly!woosan
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texting fiancé!ateez about their Coachella performance as you weren't able to attend it
author: bvidzsoo
pairing: ot8 x reader
tw: cursing
genre: smau, reactions, idol!au, fiancé!au
a/n: well, I can 100% surely say Ateez wrecked all Atiny with their performance at Coachella today (or yesterday for some), and maybe this is my way of coping??? Will I be over it soon? Certainly not lol, when I catch you Song Mingi, you better have prepared yourself cuz I ain't ever again letting you out of the dungeon, sir. Let me know your thoughts, as always, I hope these are good enough and enjoyable. Thank you for checking it out! (divider)
⚞ Masterlist ⚟
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#bvidzsoo#cromernet#ateez fake texts#ateez#ateez ot8#ateez smau#ateez scenarios#ateez headcanons#ateez drabbles#ateez imagines#ateez oneshot#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez angst#ateez fanfic#ateez crack#ateez x reader#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader
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hi! could you write/do a texts of ot8 ateez individually reacting to you not being in your shared apartment after an argument? (angst to fluff)
thank you 🩷
- bf! ateez and seeing ur not home
warnings: somewhat angsty, cursing
bom note: i feel like seonghwa’s and yunho’s are uncharacteristically sad compared to the others.. but u asked for angst! again, sorry for the lateness but pleaaaseee enjoy bby <333
reqs r open :>
#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez fic#ateez smau#ateez texts#ateez oneshot#seonghwa x reader#hongjoong x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader
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Deja Vu: “I want you so bad.”
» pairing: asshole! wooyoung x fem! reader
» summary: Getting paired with Wooyoung, notorious half-asser and asshole, on your midterm assignment must’ve been karma for something you’ve done in the past, cause god did you luck out bad. He’s constantly late to your meetings, hardly does any work, and on top of that, he teases you like no other. You can’t stand him. Until one day, a storm comes, brewing unfamiliar feelings amongst you two, and what you thought you knew had honestly just turned out to be deja vu.
» word count: ~ 9k (i actually have no idea, i just know it’s long)
» genre & warnings: non-idol au, asshole (most of the time) wooyoung, sub (sometimes) reader, dry humping, grinding, praises, unprotected sex (BAD, DON’T DO IT), rough sex, cream pie, ass & tit slapping, major teasing (both sexually and socially), orgasm denial x3, edging, fingering, dirty talk, overstimulation, reader has a younger face but is of age, mentions of bff!seonghwa, reader is unintentionally cute, minor peer pressure (helps reader get out of her shell/pushy roommate), heavy make out session, whiny wooyoung, sensitive reader
» a/n: when i tell you i am in love with this kind of wooyoung
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*.･｡ﾟ
Everyone warned you about him.
He’s a handful for sure.
You got him as your partner? Good fucking luck with that.
Be ready to do your half of the load, plus his.
You knew this would happen.
So how come you’re still surprised when at 6:45, Wooyoung strolls into the library, a drink in one hand and his laptop in the other, looking as if he’s ready to work. He should’ve been here 45 minutes ago.
You peer up from your own screen and can’t help but scowl at the boy. Wooyoung also notices you, and instead of feigning remorse a cheesy grin spreads across.
“Look at you being all studious.” He reaches the table you occupied and plops down next to you, parts of his drink splashing onto your bare arm, “How much have you gotten done?”
Adjusting your laptop screen, you hardly spare him a glance as you go back to typing, “Honestly, not that much. It’s hard coming up with research on my own.”
You hope the bitterness came through in your tone and judging by the way Wooyoung guffaws, you could tell it did. He just didn’t care.
“Y/N-ah, why’re you being so cold to me?” His voice is playful, lighthearted even, speaking as if the two of you were friends. Which you’re most certainly not.
Instead of replying, you let your fingers do the talking as they slap the keyboard with clicks, a reminder that you guys need to work and not converse. Does he think you actually want to spend your Friday working on some stupid project? One that’s worth a large chunk of your grade at that.
“I brought you something to drink.” He shoves the cup in your face and you can see the liquid start to turn more opaque as the ice melts. It’s also like 70% gone. Having enough, you harshly face him, the sudden movement causing him to buck backwards.
“Wooyoung, you need to get to work and stop playing around. We don’t have time for this, especially when you decided to show up almost an hour late.” You try to sound authoritative, but that in itself is a bit of a problem for you. Your voice has always been softer than most, so when you do try to take charge, you often get ‘awwws’ of how cute you sound. And you hated that.
It also doesn’t help that you have a rounder and softer looking face for someone your age. If you could count on your fingers the amount of times someone’s asked if you’re touring your college instead of attending it - with them thinking you’re a high schooler, well, you’d probably put around 3 fingers down. But the analogy still stands.
Wooyoung’s no different, him holding back a smile from the way your eyebrows would furrow and how your nose would scrunch whenever you exhibit anger. He found it endearing, actually.
“Okay...you’re clearly mad at me-”
“How can I not be?” You exclaim, “It’s been a week of us working on this project together, and somehow you manage to show up late every time, but it’s never been past 30 minutes. You’re even the one who told me to be here at 6!”
“I have a good reason for being late though.”
With that, you push your computer forwards and lean back in your chair arms crossed, entertaining whatever nonsense was about to spew out of his mouth, “Oh please, I’d love to hear this.”
He mocks your stance, “I was getting chased by a girl.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. You give him a deadpanned expression which causes him to whine.
“No seriously! I was.” In a flash, he pulls out his phone and puts it out for you to see a string of messages.
5:48 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- HYUNG!!!
- i need your help asap
5:49 PM
SEONGHWA:
- huh?
- what’d you do?
5:51 PM:
WOOYOUNG:
- the girl from last weekend’s pissed at me and is looking for me all over campus
- can i pls hide in your dorm?
5:51 PM:
SEONGHWA:
- tf did you do to piss her off?
5:52 PM:
WOOYOUNG:
- i’ll explain later just please let me hideout at your place
- i heard she has a knife
5:52 PM:
SEONGHWA:
- okay fine
5:53 PM:
WOOYOUNG:
- thank you!!
- i’m already outside your door
Admittedly, you were left dumbfounded. So maybe he did have a reason today, but that doesn’t excuse all of the other times. Wooyoung slips his phone back into his hoodie pocket while you go to ask the obvious question.
“What did you do to make this girl mad?”
He blows out a hard breath, as if even thinking about her is such a hassle, “We hooked up last week and I told her I didn’t wanna see her again. So, this is how she reacted.”
You purse your lips out, “Well, maybe she was hoping to gain something out of it. You know, there are nicer ways to phrase ‘I’m not ready for a relationship’ that don’t involve the girl getting hurt.”
“Why should I care about her feelings?” His words are icy, though it seems to be directed towards you, “I told her upfront I didn’t want anything more, it was only supposed to be sex. I asked her if she could handle that and she said yes. If she went ahead and caught something for me, that’s not my fucking problem.”
Once he was done, Wooyoung reels himself in. The realization that you weren’t, in fact, the psycho chick that had been chasing after him earlier dawns on him as you silently nod in agreement. If he had been clear on his intentions since the start, then there wasn’t really much you could say against him.
“I didn’t know that, sorry for jumping to conclusions.” You sound more sad then you meant to and reach out for your computer.
After a beat his sour look turns sweet again, another playful smile returning, “Oh Y/N-ah, don’t apologize for that. I’m sorry for getting worked up.”
“Your frustrations understandable, especially if you’d been real with her from the beginning. Frankly, she should’ve expected that.” Shrugging your shoulders, you go to work again, now noticing the time hit 7:18 PM. You had about 12 minutes to get Wooyoung to do something, but that probably won’t happen.
He cheers your name loudly, happy that you and him agree on a topic for once and the librarian on standby hisses at him to quiet down while throwing a nasty glare.
The two of you exchange glances before both quietly laughing, you going back to finishing one of your paragraphs for your thesis while he simply sat and watched.
«—————————»
The next time you were supposed to meet with Wooyoung, you receive a text from him hours before your designated time.
12:07 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- pls no library today
12:09 PM
YOU:
- what was wrong with it last time?
12:10 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- the old hag yelled at me
- i’m not dealing with that again
12:11 PM
YOU:
- well tbh you aren’t the quietest person to have around
12:11 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- sorry we all cant be mouses like you
12:13 PM
YOU:
- ignoring that
- how about the cafe nearby?
12:14 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- ugh the coffees gross
- and psycho chick works there
- hell. no.
12:15 PM
YOU:
- oh then def not there, where do you wanna meet then?
12:17 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- just come over to my apartment
- i would suggest your place but i don’t feel like going out
12:18 PM
YOU:
- what if i don’t feel like going out
12:18 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- who wears the pants in this friendship?
12:20 PM
YOU:
- there is no friendship
12:21 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- still don’t wanna admit we’re friends…..
- it’s bad enough you pretend to not know who i am around others
- makes me sad
12:24 PM
YOU:
- does it actually?
12:26 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- no 😛
- come over at 7
12:27 PM
YOU:
- alright fine
Even though you agreed to 7, you actually intended on getting there around 7:10. Hopefully the taste of his own karma would help him learn to respect others times and not waste a second of it.
Throughout the day, while doing your mundane tasks, the text messages between you and Wooyoung keep circling your thoughts. Mainly towards the end.
You and him haven’t established a clear relationship, so that’s why you denied his friendship claim. In all honesty, he just didn’t seem like one to you. But after what happened at the library, a part of you can possibly start to think differently.
Yet your mind races at the possibility you had actually hurt his feelings. It’s not a secret that you two are partners, so whenever you do deny his existence, many people laugh off your comment as a joke. Which for the most part it is. Had you been going too far with that?
Then again, this is Wooyoung you’re talking about. He hardly takes anything serious. Not even a project that’s worth more than half of his final grade. You’re probably just overthinking it, no need to stress out over this.
Telling yourself that, you continue to busy yourself with random tasks till around 6:30, which also happens to be the time your roommate arrives back from wherever she had left early this morning.
“Hey, where are you about to go?”
She asks as she notices you picking out a sweatshirt to wear, already having on light flared jeans. She comes up behind you and lands a loud smack on your ass and you fake cry. This is not a first time offense.
“Wooyoung wants to meet at his place for our project.” You look between two sweatshirts in your hands, a light grey and black.
Your roommate throws herself onto your bed since hers is barely visible due to the abundance of clothes occupying it. But then she pauses for a moment, rethinking over what you just said, “Wait, you’re going to his apartment?”
You nod absentmindedly, still deciding on which clothing option to wear.
“Is he trying to fuck you?”
Now that snaps you out and you dart your eyes to her, “What?! Absolutely not.”
She sits up now, legs crisscrossed as she becomes engross in the conversation, “Y/N, he 100% is! You’ve guys been studying at the same two places for the past week, now suddenly he wants to change locations? To a more secluded place? Sounds sketchy as hell.”
You’re quick to discard that, “It’s because he doesn’t wanna go out today. Plus, Wooyoung has his reasonings for not liking our usual spots.”
Her eyes do a dramatic roll, “Right, just as I’m sure he had his reasonings for being an hour late last Friday.”
You had been texting your roommate up until Wooyoung’s arrival, frustration running into the ground. But you also told her he had a legit excuse later on. So, she’s clearly not the biggest fan of him.
“Don’t say such things. And besides the seclusion will probably help us work better.” You finally choose to go with the black sweatshirt and put back the grey.
“Or it’ll help when your screaming his name and no one will be around to hear it.”
“Hey!”
She throws her hands up innocently, though nothing’s innocent about what’s coming out of her mouth, “I’m just saying! The possibility isn’t a no.”
“To me it is! Plus, he doesn’t even see me like that. Just as a friend…..sorta. Well, that’s not really the case for me. But it’s- you know what, never mind.” You finish putting on the sweatshirt and do your go-to style for your hair, something quick.
“Okay, well can you at least prepare better just in case you guys are gonna bone?”
You just shake your head in disbelief that this conversation is even happening, while she gets up and begins rummaging through the pile on her bed. When her hands come out again, they’re gripping a lacy tank top and matching underwear.
If you thought this couldn’t get any worse, it just has significantly.
“You’re not serious….” You shake your head once more, disbelief clouding your mind again.
“Y/N go put this on right now!” Before you had a chance to protest, she’s pushing you into your closet, throwing the clothes at you before locking the door and turning the lights on from outside.
“You’re crazy! I thought you don’t even like Wooyoung, why’re you so on board with this non-existent idea?!” You yell.
“Cause, even if he is an asshole, he’s still hot! And the perfect gateway into the hookup culture you’ve always wanted to be apart of since freshman year!”
You mentally curse yourself for wanting to have a ‘hoe phase’ and for sharing that with your roommate. That was forever ago anyways, surely she would’ve realized you grew up since then. Once you realize your roommate is dead set on not letting you out, you sigh annoyingly. She is insane.
But as you begin to caress the fabric, your mind begins to race. You had absolutely no intention of getting with Wooyoung, not now or ever. You don’t even consider him a friend! Yeah, he’s extremely attractive, and maybe even your type.
However, that doesn’t make up for how much he irks your soul, and you could swear up and down that you dislike him.
Maybe that’s why it would be perfect, the voice inside of you starts, no extra feelings attached, and no one has to get hurt like psycho crazy girl.
You bit your lip at the thought. Would he even hook up with someone like you? You don’t think you’re exactly his type.
………oh who’re you kidding, he’d probably mess with anything that has a hole.
“Don’t overthink it, if you feel the moment happening, jump on it. If not, then let it ago.” Your roommate adds more encouragement.
Suddenly switching your brain off, you strip off you clothes, removing the current underwear for the newer kind. You toss back on your other clothes before begging your roommate to let you out.
She opens the door but stops you in your tracks, “Now hold on, before you go let me see that you have it-”
You lift up your shift to reveal the tight material straining against your skin. You felt your breasts were gonna pop out at any second.
Your roommate gapes at you then goes to quickly put your shirt down, “Oh wow, I almost just said something I might’ve…...anyways you look fucking amazing.”
“Aww, thank you.” A tiny smile spreads across your face and your roommate resists the urge to pinch your cheeks.
“Okay, what time are you’re suppose to meet him?”
You glance over at your clock which reads 7:01 PM, “Hmmm, about right now.”
She tells you to hurry out of here but before you get the chance to, she walks over to the window and takes a peak, “Hey, have you checked the weather?”
“No, why?” It had been sunny all today there was really no point.
Your roommate holds back saying something, her gaze going over to your closet, “I think you should wear the grey sweatshirt.”
«———————————»
You were going to kill you roommate. The funeral’s been planned out, you already knew the casket color - burnt siena - and all you needed was the body. She is so dead.
You knock ferociously at Wooyoung’s door, at such a rate that someone could mistake you for one of his many, many girls. The door swings open, a freshly showered Wooyoung standing on the other side.
“Y/N-ah, why’re you so angry all the ti-” His eyes go wide at the sight of you. Your once neat hair all messy and soaked from the rain. The sweatshirt your roommate suggested had turned a much darker grey while your light pants were splattered in raindrops.
The worst part about it all, the rain started just as you were approaching his street, and it came down in waterfalls. You were already too far to turn around and grab an umbrella.
“I don’t. Wanna. Talk about it.” You roughly push past him and into his apartment, which you would normally stop to admire the niceness of it if you weren’t so upset. His living room and kitchen’s clean and modern, a TV playing some movie in the background.
“I feel like I could make a joke, but this is just too easy,” You toss a harsh glare over your shoulder at him as he closes and bolts his door, him shuddering at your expression, “Is this why you were late? I was counting every second.”
You highly doubt that’s true, “No, my roommate and I got to talking about…something.”
He tsks, running the white towel over his damp hair, “You know for every minute you were late, I say you deserve a spanking.”
If not for you roommate, that statement wouldn’t have illicit more than a scowl from you, maybe even an eye roll. But your mind trails off to you bent over his lap while he counts the number of times his palm hits your flesh.
And you feel your face immediately burn so you turn away, “If that’s the case, you’d probably wouldn’t be able to walk for like a week.”
With your back facing him, Wooyoung’s eyes linger down to your ass, and how full it looks in those pants. Dammit, he told himself he wouldn’t think of you in that way. And that spanking comment completely slipped out, but now he’s wishing he hadn’t said anything. His thoughts are truly something else.
“Where should we work?” You ask, desperately needing a change in subject.
He seems to be cleared from his own thoughts and he leads you to his living room where his laptop’s already set up with your guys’s work document. Hey, talk about efficient.
Wooyoung drops to the couch and you sling off your backpack, going to follow his lead when a foot comes in contact with your ass.
“Sorry, but I can’t have you sitting on the couch.” He slowly lowers his leg and you scoff lightly, your face doing the thing it does when you get angry. It kills him inside each time.
“Well, what am I supposed to do? I don’t have a spare change of clothes.”
Just as quickly as he sat down, Wooyoung’s back up again and tells you to follow him to his bedroom. Outside, you can hear the wind start to pick up, mixing with the treacherous rain.
“You can borrow a shirt from me, but I’m kinda low on bottoms.” He says as he yanks open a clearly broken drawer and begins looking for a suitable replacement.
He pulls out a ratty, white tee and tosses it on your face, you hearing him laugh at you as he makes his way out the door. You rip the shirt off with a huff, “Thank you for this.”
His eyes do a quick motion back to you before smiling his usual, playful grin, “That’s what friends are for.”
And he goes to exit again, leaving you alone to change. Trying your best to ignore the way your stomach buzzes at the remembrance of his smile, you pull off you own wet shirt and replace Wooyoung’s dry one, his scent engulfing you the minute it’s on you. You thought you could get drunk of this.
And as for pants, well, your jeans didn’t get as much damage as your top, so it should be fine. You work your way back to the living room, Wooyoung actually working diligently for the first time in ages.
“Whatcha doing?” You take the only open seat next to him on the cushion, but whatever change of heart you had towards him dissipates in a matter of seconds as he flips his screen to show you some clothing store he’d been browsing.
“Do you think this would look nice on me?”
You stare at him blankly before giving him a half-hearted answer. That seems to do the trick as he twists his computer and goes back to typing, most likely still not working. You open your own laptop and begin immediate research, the sounds of clicks filling the air as if you’re both competing for which one is the most significant.
An hour goes by, then two, then three, till next thing you know it’s 11 o’clock at night and the only thing left of your paper is the conclusion, which you tasked Wooyoung with since no one knows all that he’s really done.
“Holy shit! I can’t believe we’re almost finish with this.” He sighs happily into the couch while you shoot him a face. He instantly backtracks and rephrases his sentence into something more accurate, where he’d actually given you more credit.
“This feels like the longest paper I’ve ever written,” You huff as you layback alongside Wooyoung.
“Yeah, well,” He regards you and you meet his gaze, a tiny smile breaking out, “I know you did a great job. You’re an awesome researcher.”
The words could make you melt on sight, “Wooyoung, you’re too sweet.”
At the sight of your genuine smile, he felt as if his heart was going to leap out his chest. Damn you and you’re cuteness.
“Here I thought you couldn’t wait to rid me of your time.” You say as you snicker at your own joke. Definitely was the other way around.
“Well, don’t count on that. Trust me when I say, you’ll never get rid of me.” A devilish grin overtakes him and you roll your eyes, playfully this time. Maybe there is a part of you that’s starting to warm up to him.
“It’s probably time for me to go, it’s past 11.” When you go to stand, you hear Wooyoung whine behind you, begging you to stay longer. It’s just him being bored, don’t overthink it.
Right as you go to pick up your bag, a flash of lightning followed by loud thunder stop you in your step. With the time you spent with Wooyoung, you’d completely forgotten that a literal thunderstorm had been conjuring outside.
“Where’d you park?” He asks as he goes to stand next to you, trying to see out of the window of the blinds but even that had been barricaded by water.
“Oh, uhh, I actually didn’t drive. I walked here from my dorm.” You begin to think about how you’d get home. The bus normally comes around 12, so you could just wait under the bus stop to get out of his hair-
“You better not be considering leaving,” He chastises and when you make a guilty face he’s shocked, “Are you kidding me? I’m not letting you go out there.”
“I don’t wanna be in your way anymore, I’m sure you’re tired of me enough.” You rebut with wide eyes that make it hard for him to look away.
“Don’t make up lies, Y/N-ah, that’s what bad people do.”
Why does he do this to you? Treat you like you don’t know that there’s wrong in the world, like your sheltered. You stick your hip out and cross your arms, “Who’s to say I’m not bad.”
That sentence alone was enough to get him to laugh as if he’d been holding one in for a while, “Yeah, okay. I’ll go get my room ready for you.”
You trail him like a puppy as he goes down the hall and into his bedroom, “Hey, I didn’t agree.”
“And I don’t remember caring if you did.” He picks up the little trinkets off the floor before switching his pillows out with new ones.
You trot behind him, “Then if that’s the case, you take your bed. I can’t kick you of here.”
“You’re not kicking me out, I already gave the room to you.” He moves onto collecting a blanket from his closet then proceeds out into the living room again with, surprise surprise, you close by.
“Wooyoung this isn’t fair, I feel bad.”
He drops the cover then whips around to face you, his eyes burning deep into yours, “Where do you want me to sleep if you’re taking the bed then, huh?”
“Don’t overthink it, if you feel the moment happening, jump on it.”
Your roommate said this to you and boy if this doesn’t feel like a moment. Your eyes drop down slightly, then off to the side before landing back on Wooyoung, “You could….oh I don’t know, just stay in the room with me.”
He halts in place, trying to register if he just heard you correctly, “Stay with you……?”
You rapidly shake your head yes because you aren’t too confident your mouth could say much more. He pushes his tongue against his mouth, obviously lost in thought, and you briefly look at the movement. You must’ve turned into a huge pervert in the span of 4 hours because just the sight of that is enough to make your heart race.
“I normally don’t sleep with classmates, but I think I can make an acceptation for you.”
You flick him in the chest at his comment, him immediately laughing. And while part of you felt that was the proper response on your behalf, another hated how you knew he was joking. Like he could never even imagine you in that kind of way.
“Alright, let’s go back to the room then.”
This time you lead the way, with Wooyoung immediately stripping once he steps foot into the room. At the removal of his shirt, you spot a gold chain dangling from his neck, which you felt was a good fit for him. He goes all the way down to his boxers, a classic plaid mix with colors, and your eyes widen at how casual he’d just done it. Though, you don’t completely mind.
“Oh yeah, I get hot easily so sometimes I like to prepare. .” Without another second to waste, he hops into his side of the bed, “Don’t let me stop you though, okay Y/N-ah?”
You don’t even respond as hastily you turn around and fiddle with the button of your jeans. It’s now or never. You pull your pants down, around your ass and past your thighs till they pool around your ankle. You step out of them then bend down to retrieve, folding and placing them on a nearby chair.
“Did you wear that underwear just for me?” He’s teasing you, just like always, though this time you don’t have a comeback. You really had worn these just for him.
He picks up on your no-reply and could tell there’s a sense of something in the air that wasn’t there before.
When you turn back around, Wooyoung’s eyes are glued to you, more specifically towards your legs. You don’t get into bed immediately, instead watching him to see his reaction. Is this where everything goes downhill?
He rakes his eyes upwards till they land on your gaze and it appears he’s confirmed something in them, not playing around or joking. That you’re dead serious. Your heart rate accelerates and his lingering stare is starting to make you curdle.
After a beat his body weakens, “Come here.” His finally says. His voice is strained quietly, speaking as if you’d break if he were any louder. And so you do, leisurely, stalling.
You reach the side of the bed and he motions you to continue. You dip a knee into the mattress before placing your other, then again slowly make your way over to him.
Stopping right in front of his face, his arms reactively go up to grab at you but he stops himself midway. You can tell he’s asking for full permission, and attempting to calm your breathing you give a nod of approval.
His hands grip the back of your thigh, sinking into the skin, before making you straddle him. You sit perched up and toying with your fingers, then decidedly to rest them across his bare shoulders.
“You know I was just messing with you?” He starts, forcing you to give him your attention.
“You always do.” You’re tone sounds neutral thank goodness, but your goddamn pouty lips make you look like your frowning. Or to Wooyoung, kissable as fuck.
Chuckling gently, he bites his lip to stop him from smiling too much, “Yeah, that’s true. But this time it didn’t seem like just teasing to you.”
You feel his hands rub against your thighs, not working their way up, just caressing them while he keeps his eyes locked on you.
“I….” You already knew saying it aloud would sound weird, “I wasn’t sure where tonight was gonna take us.”
He continues to knead into your skin while you go to play with his chain, awaiting his response. You never would’ve imagined this is how the two of you would end up, but damnit if there’s not a part that just excites you a little about it all.
“Did you think we were….” He allows the words to hang in the air but you knew too well what he meant. So you shyly respond, affirming his suspicion.
Wooyoung sighs downward, looking like he just a lost a battle. “I told myself I wouldn’t do anything with you, scolded myself even.”
His words definitely are a shock to you, you stopping your fiddling on his chain to give him your full attention again, “What do you mean?”
“You’re just too cute, Y/N-ah, how could I not think about you in those kinds of ways,” his eyes are back on you, large and dark with plead, “But even when we got paired up together, I told myself to not do anything stupid. Because you don’t deserve that.”
The confession makes your head spin while watching him even more intensely.
“Are you sure this is something you want? If we do this, I promise you I’m not gentle and I don’t have any intention on being so.” He waits for your response but your mind is still murky from his previous statements. What does all of this mean? What was he trying to tell you?
You study him further. The softening of his eyes deepening the longer you two sit in silence. How his now dried hair hangs flowy on his forehead. His skin is clear with full lips. An absolutely gorgeous sight to take in. He’s absolutely gorgeous.
So much so in fact, that you don’t spare another second before leaning in to touch his lips with your own. And he’s quick to react, reciprocating the action in an instant.
It feels as if any previous doubts in your mind just fade out, leaving you with the blissful feeling of Wooyoung. He kisses you like he’s starved. Not sloppy, but uniformed. Almost like he’s been waiting for this and doesn’t want to mess up.
Your mouth moves perfectly with his, and you start tilting your head to either side. He copies your action and the two of you begin to get completely absorbed in the make out.
The hands on your legs work their way up, snaking behind you to cup your ass. He’s had literal dreams of this, and how your ass would feel in his hands. But those don’t compare, can’t compare, to how euphoric he feels in the moment.
When Wooyoung slips his tongue in your mouth, ever so slightly, the minor action causes you to whine a bit, his own groan buzzing into you. You feel some growth in his lap, soon a hardness pressing in your inner thigh.
Your breathing becomes irregular as random sounds emit from you, loving the way your core reacts accordingly to the pleasure. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on so quickly. Without even realizing you start to feel friction build from underneath you, now catching onto your hips rolling against his lap.
He starts to take charge though, grabbing and moving your ass to further grind into him. You break away first at the new sensation, huffing and hipping lightly while you struggle to keep your eyes open. Wooyoung takes notice in the way your expression looks so overwhelmed and just so damn cute.
“You like grinding on my cock?” The words tumble out as he flops his head against the headboard, “We haven’t even done anything and you look like you’re already gonna cum.”
His words are ammo to you, fueling you to gyrate faster while your hands go up above his head. He bites his lip, hard, to stop a loud groan from escaping
“You can’t cum just yet, Y/N-ah.” The sentence is more airy, like he’s struggling himself with the pleasure. You still continue though, too caught up in your satisfaction to notice him hoist an arm around your back and flip you face up onto the bed.
He lands between you, throwing in more clothed thrusts while holding in a smile at your reaction, a mix between lust and anger.
“What-” He bucks particularly hard into it your core that you thought you were going to orgasm right there, “Nrgh! What was that for?”
Wooyoung dips his head down to your cheeks, kissing them tenderly before scooting towards your ear. He eases up on the thrusts too until the two of you work at an equal, tiny pace, “I couldn’t have you cumming, not when I finally get to enjoy this.”
He wiggles down a bit till he reaches your stomach, taking the fabric of your shirt between his fingers and lifting it up towards your mouth. You gladly accept it, him shoving the tee until your mouth was full.
When he glances back down, your top now fully in view, his eyes almost bulge out of his head.
"Holy..." He drags his fingers up the curve of your waist to your outer breasts, which are practically spilling out of the tight shirt, "You wore this for me?"
He smirks up at you and your eyebrows furrow at the bad joke. He's lucky your mouth's being occupied at the moment.
Wooyoung goes back to admiring you, craning his neck up to place open kisses on the soft flesh that pokes out before working his way to in between your cleavage.
Your heavy breathing, though muffled, is still audible enough for him to hear, lifting his head up quickly to speak to you, "I think those are gonna be my favorite noises."
You dismiss him, grabbing the back of his head to push him back into you. Wooyoung laughs at your neediness and eagerly goes into your tits again.
The feeling starts to build again in your heat, with you gradually increasing your movements against him. He responds to you by rolling himself further between your legs in a rhythm, the sloppy sounds of him kissing and sucking at you still filling your ears.
You've always been a quick pleaser, not typically lasting more than 15 minutes when pleasuring yourself.
If Wooyoung hadn't changed positions earlier, you most likely would've finished like that, which for the record you were perfectly contempt with.
But now everything feels like so much. So much happening at once that the desperation to spill over comes clawing out.
Wooyoung doesn't let that happen though, letting up once he felt you grinding even harder into him. A single string of spit still connecting to your breasts hangs past his mouth, another all-knowing grin plastered on.
"Someone's a little quick on the trigger." Throwing caution to the wind, he sticks a hand against the middle of your underwear, making you squirm on the spot, "Oh, I can see why. You're fucking soaked."
You mumble out a reply but he pretends he doesn't understand, which to be fair he probably doesn't.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that. Say it again for me." This time he pulls your shirt out, your own little spit string dropping down to your chin.
You gasp harshly, "You're so mean, Wooyoung."
He peers back to your face, staring intently at you when his fingers below push rather deep into your underwear, the action causing you to hike up and grimace, “Hmmm….yeah, I guess I can be.”
In no time his mouth is back between your cleavage as his fingers work your clothed core. You think your hearts gonna explode from overstimulation. You wiggle yourself against his hand, twitching when he starts to move your fabric to the side.
The bare touch he has brings such a feeling you’ve never experienced, making you shiver. The way he would cup your pussy momentarily before releasing, rubbing at your clit again then repeating it all once more. Honestly you thought you were game over.
Till Wooyoung takes his hand away from you fully and sits up. Your face drops at the absence of his touch.
“Hey, what’d I say?” He fakes an angry expression before cracking out into a playful one, “You can’t cum just yet, I haven’t even fucked you.”
He notices the greediness in your eyes, the way you’ve only been concerned on getting yourself off and not him. And he’s not even mad at you for it, finding it rather enticing the desperation you have. Actually, it’s turning him on so fucking much.
“Look at this.”
His voice is authoritative, and when you don’t look exactly where he wants you to, he roughly grabs your hand to palm him through his boxers, “I’m leaking right now and I haven’t even taken my cock out.”
The wetness permeates to your fingertips and you quiver, a sudden sensation taking over. Like you want him inside of you right now.
“I’m gonna pound you until you’re shaking from me,” He wraps his arms underneath you to hoist you up, twisting you around till you’re on all 4’s, “So no orgasming. At least until I say so.”
You go to speak when a hand pushes your head down into a pillow, automatically arching your back with your ass poking out. Your underwear spreads across your cheeks which causes Wooyoung to sigh happily, “I could look at your sexy ass forever.”
“Wooyoung-ah,” You heave, already waiting too long for him, “Hurry up.”
Your voice again was never rude, but it did come off as whiny. He goes to make your wish come true but before that, he lands a harsh smack against your plush skin.
“Fuck, it even jiggles. Y/N-ah, you’re gonna make me cum on myself.” His words make your eyes flutter, swearing that if he kept talking you’d be done for, again.
“Need you in me…..please.” Your last attempt at pleading does the trick for you, with him bringing your underwear down to your knees. He positions himself behind you as he goes to pull down his boxer shorts.
“No more stalling starting right now.” A stroke of dick sends tingles down his spin, then, of course, he toys with your entrance.
Sliding just barely his damp head into you before swiftly pulling it out, rubbing his full length on your pussy lips. He taunts you in a manner that you couldn’t even verbally protest cause it still felt so good.
“I….” Your voice trails off from his continued teasing but that does stop him from being curious.
“Mmm, what’s that?” There’s no edge to his tone this time. If anything, he presents himself softer and more genuine.
You choke on your breath, “I’ve never wanted someone so bad before.” Wooyoung hears the possessiveness in your voice and just like that, his facade comes crumbling down, reaching his breaking point.
If only you’d understand how true those words are for himself.
“Okay,” he pause himself to readjust, “I’m actually gonna fuck you into the sheets now.”
Before he does, his reaches a hand to grab your hair, twisting it to pull you back, “Just let me know when to stop.”
You nod as your consent, which then Wooyoung throws your head back down and brings your waist further up.
He gives no warning when he thrusts himself fully deep into your core, the motion causing your head to almost drive into the headboard.
“Oh my….you’re so damn tight.” His own eyes practically roll back at the feeling of your walls around him, and he almost doesn’t wanna move.
But then you wiggle your hips in need of some friction, and soon he begins to pound into you, just like he said he would.
It starts off slow, him letting the action run through you as your slickness spreads across his cock. You even have the strength to rock with him though you weren’t sure how much longer that would last.
He’s holding onto your waist for support, but then switches one of them to the headboard above, sort of mimicking your earlier position.
His head becomes dizzy with your soft, tiny groans and the slapping sound of his skin against yours as a background.
“S-Shit, think you’re gonna make me…..” Wooyoung becomes too enveloped in the sensation, the intensity from you both, to even finish the sentence.
He gets faster while you grow more limp. Your own pleasure starts to consume you and soon you don’t have the willpower to move. He looks down briefly to your ass, taking the hand from your waist to slap your cheeks.
“Ah!” You gulp in for air, “shit….”
“Oh you like that?” Another one lands on you, though this had some sting behind it. But you love it, “Told you, you needa spankin.”
He doesn’t stop there. Grasping at your tits in front, he forcefully tugs your tank top downwards till they fall out, “Need both.”
Then, he unleashes a smack onto your breasts, this round making you cry aloud, “Wooyoung!”
“You’re so cute, Y/N-ah.” He roughly grabs your mounds of flesh and shakes them, “I love your body so damn much, could fuck you all the time.”
He goes back to fucking you, but your mind wanders. You want to ask if he truly means that, but when a particularly hard thrusts sends you soaring out of your stars, you’re quick to forget.
There’s a build up approaching and your cunt feels extra sensitive from the previous activities. You’ve surprised yourself by lasting this long, but you know your end is near.
“Woo, can I-” The words get caught in your throat and instead you croak them out.
He knows exactly what you want though, and how to give it to you. He folds himself over to completely engulf you, him wrapping both arms around your stomach. He’s still pumping in and out yet his pace has increased significantly, “Yeah, yeah you can cum now. You’ve been such a good girl.”
With his permission you let go, allowing yourself to succumb to the intoxicating heat spreading all around. Wooyoung’s breathing is present behind you as he struggles to find his own regular pattern.
He’s whining, though quietly, into your shoulder, muttering small praises, “Fuck, you’re so good. So damn good. You’ll never let anyone else have you, right?”
He drives his hips continuously as you utter incoherent nonsense, “Promise me no one else will ever see you like this. Can you do that for me?”
You can hardly muster a reply but after a few more gasps it come out, “I promise.”
Your eyes begin to flutter while Wooyoung peppers small kisses down your spine, “You’re mine now.”
And just like that, your orgasm hits like a tidal wave, just a massive explosion causing you to shake. The feeling of your walls contracting around his cock causes Wooyoung to finish too, the two of you cumming in sync. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, and you whimper loudly.
You’ve never had one hit you so intense before, and even Wooyoung’s load is more than usual as he fills you up, your cunt milking his dick in pulses.
You try to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible, taking a mental note of the whole night until slowly you come down from your high.
Wooyoung finishes as well, his hips growing slow until he finally stops. Instead of removing himself immediately however, he takes in the feeling of him still buried in you, loving how warm you feel. You both breathe heavy and you feel him clench his arms around you.
After regaining your composure, you flop down onto his bed, Wooyoung following close behind you. He lands on top of you and sighs, “You’re probably the best fuck I’ve ever had.”
You giggle lightly, “Is that so?”
“Oh yeah,” He plants another kiss this time on your inner neck, “And I’m definitely your last.”
At that, you crane your neck to him, leisurely turning over as he scoots back slightly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His hair is now slightly wet from sweat, showing just how much effort he put in, “Cause, you’re never getting cock from anyone else again. If you want it, you have me.”
The smile that spreads afterwards is shit-eating and mischievous. You’re amused by this but don’t oppose it, and Wooyoung senses your acceptance at his declaration.
He drops down to your lips, kissing you in such a passion that felt had a little more to it than he’s willing to show and maybe you don’t want him to. At least, not right now.
Just as you start to get into it, he breaks away, “Wait, I remembered something.”
“What is it?” Your cock your head to the side a bit in confusion, an act that briefly makes him put his guard down. But he quickly regains it, and scoots down towards the end of the bed.
He takes ahold of your back thighs and pushes them towards you, your legs reactively parting slightly. He then moves your knees apart and creates an open view for himself to your pussy.
There's an audible groan, "Oh fuck, I need to burn this image in my head.”
His cum leaking out of you combined with your puffy cunt practically makes him hard again. He continues praising you and gloats about how fuckable your cunt is.
Your face burns as you can’t help but cower from the attention, but apart of you knows you’ll be getting more of this in the future.
Better start getting used to it now.
- Bonus -
When you wake up again, it’s to your phone violently ringing off in the distance. You feel a heavy arm slung over you and it takes you a minute to realize Wooyoung is nestling between your neck with a leg on top of yours, out like a light.
Still groggy, you sit up, some surprise coursing through you as you notice your lack of clothing. But that didn’t matter as of right now. All you want is to find this phone and shut it the hell up.
You aimlessly search through the comforter, then bending over to reach the ground when you see a light being covered by your jeans pocket.
Now you have to get up and actually go retrieve the device, something you do then your back onto the bed.
The photo ID is of you and your roommate 2 years ago when you guys first met in high school. A memory you’d rather forget from when she took you fishing for the first time with her family. Your eyes also dart up to the time which reads 2:43 AM.
Oh gosh.
You press the answer button, “Hello-”
“What the hell is wrong with you?! I’ve been texting and calling you for the past 2 hours and I was getting worried!”
You wince at her shouting, holding the phone a way from your ear slightly, “Sorry, sorry. The storm got really bad so Wooyoung offered to let me sleep here. I should’ve told you that-”
“Damn straight you should’ve! Had me thinking the fucker kidnapped you or something, you’re so reckless.”
Your eyebrows furrow, minor irritation pricking at you for her earlier stunt, “Okay, I get where you’re coming from, but you’re the one who knew it was gonna rain. Why would you let me wear grey-!”
“Oh come on, you are not bringing that up right no-”
Your phone gets plucked out of your grasp and soon you hear the end-call noise. You look over at Wooyoung who’s resting up on his forearms, your phone in a hand with your call gone from the screen.
“She’s really loud, woke me up from our nap time.” He mutters then goes searching through your phone before he appears to type out something.
“Wooyoung!” Your shock subsides as the realization of what he’d just done dawns on you, “You can’t hang up on her, she’s my roommate.”
He just shrugs his shoulders, your scolding rolling off of him, “I just did though, plus shouldn’t she be asleep right now? It’s too late for you girls to be up.”
You scowl at him when he glances up at you, shooting you a tiny smile. Then he hands out your phone and you take it skeptically, “What’d you do?”
“Relax, I just told your roommate you’d talk to her in the morning. She needs to take a chill pill, texting you 47 times, holy shit.”
You graze through the messages and see all of the texts she’d sent asking about your whereabouts and then you see the one Wooyoung sent merely seconds ago.
“Hey, come back to bed, you need sleep.” He attempts to pull you back to him and you allow him to, falling down into his chest.
And that’s how you spend the rest of the night, safe in Wooyoung’s arms.
#ateez#ateez wooyoung#wooyoung x reader#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez seonghwa#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#jung wooyoung#k pop smut#wooyoung#Wooyoung x reader smut#wooyoung smut#ateez oneshot#teeskz#ateez imagines#wooyoung x reader smut#kpop imagines
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three calls answered; one call missed - second call
pairing: wooyoung x fem!reader; ? x fem!reader
genre: angst
warning: intoxication
word count: 1258
main masterlist
part 1
Groaning, I reached a hand out to get my phone.
"Hello?"
Eyes still closed, I pressed the side of my face into the pillow as I place the phone next to my head.
"Can you come over please?"
"What?" Holding the phone up, I squinted at the screen before placing it on my ear. "Wooyoung? What the hell? It's like 3 in the morning?"
"Please. I need you."
Frowning, I noticed the slur in his speech.
"Are you drunk? Are you at home?"
"Yes."
Putting the phone on speaker, I clicked onto a group chat.
Sighing, I brought my attention back to Wooyoung, "Wooyoung? You still there?"
"Hmm."
"I'm gonna hang up now. See you in a bit."
Not waiting for a reply, I hung up the phone and got out of bed.
Moving around the room, I looked for some clothes as I mumbled to myself.
"Why do I keep doing this to myself? Definitely not sane. Maybe I should get my brain checked or something. God, I'm going to be the death of myself."
Grabbing the keys off the nightstand, I made my way to the car.
Stepping out of the car, I looked up at the building in front of me.
"Okay. Just a guy who's slightly drunk. Nothing to be scared of."
Anyone who saw me right now probably thought I was some crazy person. And I don't blame them for thinking that because what sane person would do this?
"Oh, who am I kidding? It's my drunk crush who thinks I'm his ex-girlfriend. Lovely. Probably should stop that, actually."
Taking a deep breath, I made my way into the building and up the stairs. Trying to stall as much as possible.
Reaching the door, I noticed that it was left ajar. Tentatively, I pushed the door open. It was pitch black in there. Closing the door behind me, I turned the flashlight on my phone to see.
"Wooyoung?"
Calling out, I waited for a response, though none came.
Frowning, I called out again, "Wooyoung!"
Walking past the living room, I made my journey down the corridor where the bedrooms were, stopping at the end.
Gently knocking on Wooyoung's door, "You in there?"
Hearing a murmur come through the door, I opened it. Deadpanning at the sight in front of me.
"Dude. What the hell?"
Wooyoung was sitting in front of the bed in a pair of sweats, bottles of beer and vodka surrounding him as he scattered pictures around.
Carefully making my way towards him, I almost slipped on an empty beer bottle. Crouching down, I took the beer away from him, also noting the fact that he had pictures of his ex in his lap.
Oh, this isn't going to end well.
"Wooyoung?"
He looked up at me, eyes hazy before a bright smile spread over his face.
"Jaein!"
Pressing my lips into a thin line, I shook my head, "Nope. Still Y/N."
Sighing, I reached my hands out to pull him up.
"Come on. Let's get you to bed."
With great difficulty, I managed to get him up on his feet. Though that was about it seeing I was once again in his arms.
"Wooyoung. Let go."
Wooyoung shook his head against my neck, tightening his grip.
"No. If I let go, you'll disappear again"
Closing my eyes, I knew he still saw me as Jaein, "I won't. Now, let's go to bed, yeah?"
Feeling Wooyoung loosen his hold on me, I guided him into bed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stayed for a while, making sure he was going to be okay. Reaching a hand out, I carefully pushed some of his hair away from his face, before mumbling to myself.
"Maybe it's time for me to let go."
Just as I was about to get up, I felt a hand grip onto my wrist. Not looking back, I could hear Wooyoung speaking.
"I love you."
Closing my eyes, I could feel them burning as I held in the tears. He was dreaming about Jaein.
"I should hate you, but I can't. Please stay. I can't lose you."
Feeling the tears slip down my face, I gently pried away his hand before getting up.
Looking at the mess on the floor, I crouched down to pick everything up.
Picking up the pictures, I saw how happy Wooyoung was with Jaein. He had a look in his eyes that I had never seen in him. Love. Adoration. Every emotion that he only showed to her.
Placing the pictures on the nightstand, I noticed that the screen of his phone was still on the call log.
Jaein.
Wooyoung had the picture of my contact as Jaein. Huh. No wonder he thought he was calling Jaein. He only saw the picture. Shaking my head, I picked up the bottles and left the bedroom.
Making my way to the kitchen, threw away the bottles before leaning against the counter.
It was almost 5 a.m. and I didn’t exactly have the strength to drive back home. So, grabbing a bottle of water, I made my way into Yeosang's room. Taking a sip of water, I lay down on the bed, hugging one of the pillows as I finally let the tears flow freely.
This was a horrible idea. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Did I really think I could be the one to make him move on from Jaein? No. Definitely not me.
"Y/N?"
Hearing someone call me, I opened my eyes and saw San and Yeosang standing over me. Both of them looking worried.
Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes before looking back at them.
"Sorry. It was late and I didn't want to drive home."
Yeosang and San sat on either side of me, "It's fine."
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I noticed it was already 10, meaning they were already finished with their presentation.
San took in my swollen eyes and looked at Yeosang, "Something happen?"
Shrugging, I let out a sad smile, "I knew it was a bad idea, yet I still did it. I found Wooyoung sitting in his room surrounded by empty beer bottles as he looked through old pictures of him and Jaein and called me Jaein the second he saw me. Got him into bed and then he confessed that he loved me, thinking I was Jaein. He has Jaein's picture as my contact picture. He must've thought that I was her when he called me."
We sat in silence as San and Yeosang talked to each other over my head. I didn't care what they said.
"I got an offer."
They both whipped their heads around to look at me.
"What?"
"I received an offer from Star Industries yesterday for the position of junior technician in their labs after I graduate. They've given me 3 months to reply. I don't know."
San gave me a questioning look, "Isn't Star Industries in London?"
Nodding my head, I looked down at my hands, "Yeah. That's the part that I'm not sure of. I don't want to leave you guys behind, but this is Star Industries. They don't just offer people positions."
Yeosang put his arm around me, "Well, you've got three months and whatever you decide, we'll support you."
San clapped his hands together, "Now, what do you say about brunch? The three of us. Yeosang and I haven't eaten since, like, 4 yesterday, and I'm sure you can do with some food in you."
"Sounds good."
part 3
#ateez imagine#ateez x reader#ateez oneshot#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung oneshot#wooyoung imagine#wooyoung angst#ateez angst#ateez imagines#ateez#ateez oneshots#wooyoung imagines#ateez wooyoung#wooyoung oneshots#ateez yeosang#ateez san
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light a flame (sequel)
✁ pairing: fire king!wooyoung x g.n!reader
✁ genre: dystopian au, elemental au, angst, fluff, soulmate au, slight strangers/enemies to lovers warnings: lots of fire mentioned, semi-major character death, fires, attempted major character death, temporary amnesia rating: 16+
✁ wc: 8.7k
✁ plot: you were constantly on fire under his burning gaze, ironically while being in a fire kingdom. behind his intense gaze, however, was someone that you used to know, the same person that was supposed to be your soulmate that the universe had gifted you with; but instead stood a person filled with ashes and hatred for you.
✁ a/n: hii guys!! here i present the wooyoung version of my fic (babylon)’s sequel!! again i hope you guys liked this as much as i did, and if you would like to read the original/sunwoo version of this fic, it’ll be linked under this very text box!! thank you again~
ateez masterlist | main navi | previous part | tbz sunwoo version
✁ [ gina is listening to: this playlist :) ]
He was the fire that was able to ignite an entire kingdom full of ashes; one touch and everybody would crumble to his feet. At least that was how you remembered him.
“Wooyoung’s alive. He’s been hidden for a while now, but he’s alive. We have to go find him now.”
San’s words have echoed in your ear for days on end since then, up until this very moment where you had been sitting in front of the television facing towards you. Your eyes never tore away from the screen, creating a burning sensation that stung the corners of your vision as you struggled to blink because of how restless you'd been feeling.
It was the middle of January that you found yourself somehow in the middle of a kingdom that produced nothing but heat, making you wonder how it was even remotely possible in the first place. The entire idea of it seemed unrealistic, but the longer that you’d been in this fiery environment with nothing to do, you were hit with the harsh truth as you realized that you hadn't planned to find him.
You remember your first day entering what you have learned to be named, Ignatius, the kingdom that was built from the ground up by a man wielding fire powers. The rumors of him coming from the heavens; to his origins from hell were constantly spread, but no one had ever seen what he had looked like because of his hidden identity; only his name.
“Y/N, are you okay? You haven’t blinked in a while.” You hear someone call out to you, making you do the said action as you turned your head over to where San had been staring at you worriedly.
The poor boy had been with you all this time, watching as you had been beating yourself over the fact that you had lost Wooyoung for years now, only to learn that he had been alive all this time. He felt guilty towards himself, in a way, for withholding that information from you, but it was better that way due to the promise that he made to the younger before everything had gone downhill.
“Yeah, I’m okay. How long have I been zoning out?” You mumbled, raising your hand towards your eyes to ease the burning sensation. The sound of San clearing his throat before speaking up again made you feel uneasy for some reason, but you disregarded it as you were out of it at the moment.
“Don’t worry about how long you've been zoning out. Can you turn the tv volume up a bit?” He asks quietly and you nod in response as you grab the remote to do so, feeling his presence beside you as he decides to sit on the couch to see what had been on the tv while you were spacing out.
‘Breaking news. Our ruler, Jung Wooyoung, has called for an emergency meeting in the Ignatius Fire Palace with his right-hand man and chamber. We have no information on what was discussed at the meeting, but we do have a public statement from the fire king for the first time since the beginnings of the kingdom itself, as this is his first official sighting. Here is what he has stated.’
Your heart drops at the sight of Wooyoung suddenly appearing on the television screen, all color from your face draining as your throat becomes dry just looking at him and his matured looks. It hits you all at once with the realization that he was still alive, but there was something different in his eyes as the camera panned over to his stern face that can only show nothing but a solemn and powerful presence.
It was as though he was a robot, rather than the same human that you had fallen in love with years ago.
“Good evening, everyone. I’m your fire king, Jung Wooyoung. As you may have known, this is my first public appearance. I have called this public announcement to be aired soon to inform you all that something will be planned soon for the future of the kingdom, and whether or not you will join me is entirely up to you,” He says into the microphone with such poise, that you couldn’t even recognize who this new Wooyoung was.
It felt foreign to you.
“There are consequences for actions, as our motto may state, as there are eyes everywhere to watch your every move. You’ll find out soon, in time, who I truly am with my actions. And with that, goodnight everyone.”
The tv shuts off as the last image of his slight smirk at the end of his sentence haunts your brain as you were trying to process what had happened in the last five minutes of your time. He was alive and he was out there somehow still doing something that you had yet to know of, along with the potential of him remembering anything before the big accident that must’ve caused his powers to happen in the first place.
Tears brim at the corner of your eyes just thinking about the incident from years ago, making you wonder what things would’ve been like if it never happened in the first place. You were supposed to be with your soulmate, living happily as normal individuals, but instead of that you had to live in the tragedy that the rough reality was giving you now. There weren't any more status rankings in class, but there was still the unsettling feeling of loss and heartache that resided in your heart the longer that you weren’t with him.
“I talked to him today, as they mentioned earlier,” San speaks up once again, making you veer around to look at him with a small smile as you motioned for him to go on, but you couldn't help but feel as though life had been unfair to you right now.
“He has had selective amnesia, Y/N… for years now. When I asked him about you, he didn't remember anything about you, but somehow he still remembers the others and me since I first found him again.”
Nodding in response, there’s a small breath that escapes your lips as you try not to feel emotional or irrational because of what he had just informed you. Wooyoung has no recollection of who you were, which meant that he doesn’t even remember the fact that you were both bonded as soulmates.
“Then why am I here, San? Why did you bring me here, if not to suffer by not being with him, if he doesn’t even remember anything about me at all?” You ask him, wanting to know the answers to all the questions that you have been holding back out of fear of what those answers will be and how much more hurt you’d be from them.
“He, I think, would want to meet you, or at least is willing to get to know you again,” He points out, trying to at least be hopeful in the situation and you give him a small smile as he tries to comfort you by pulling you into a warm hug.
“The two of you can rebuild what you had back then, and we can start that by going to the fire palace tomorrow.”
You raise your eyebrows at him wondering where he had this idea in the first place, or how long he must’ve conspired the plan, knowing that despite his position in Wooyoung’s inner circle, you were going to be the talk of the kingdom. You were simply a stranger to all of them, and no one, but San, knew who you were. You were about to walk into what seemed like another world, a world in which you had no place being.
It was practically like walking into a lion’s den with meat rung around your neck, but worse because everything and everywhere was somehow connected to fire.
“Fine. Let’s go in the morning after our market run, but any funny business and I’m going back here to pass away.” You say with a sarcastic tone as you look at him, feeling a small flick against your forehead as a small laugh escapes your lips.
“Yeah, yeah, you dramatic baby. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”
Everything was absolutely not okay.
You stood outside of the Ignatius Palace with sweaty palms, your blood running cold as reality was slowly hitting you and your stomach churns at the thoughts of what might possibly happen today. The next few moments felt as though it was unfolding right in front of you in slow motion, and you didn’t want anything to start yet. Were you even ready to face what you had been desiring to see these last few years of being away from the world?
“You ready, Y/N? He’s inside waiting.”
Your hand was unknowingly hovering over the door knob, mind unsure as to why you were hesitating when you have been waiting all these years to see him again. Were you scared of the fact that something bad was going to happen, or that you were setting yourself up for an outcome so bad that you should have never been here in the first place?
Turning around to look at San, who had been giving you a small smile this whole time to reassure your emotions, you could feel everything weighing down on your hand as you weren’t sure where to even begin to place everything together. All because of the barrier between you and whatever was behind this door.
Would he be the same person that you knew?
Once you opened the door, you quietly stepped in to see a more grand version of a castle that you never could’ve imagined creating. In contrast to the actual environment that was outside, you were greeted with cool air, like air conditioning, as you took every small step closer to what you assumed was the foyer.
Eyes scanning across the walls and decor, there was another path from the entrance that you noticed had led to another room. The moment you step in, however, causes you to feel regret that you did so; tears were pricking your eyes and your heart seemed to beat out of your chest, unsure as to how you were going to keep your composure now.
Every single emotion that you have concealed overtime suddenly began to spill out for you to expose, making your breathing heavier and wavering the more that you kept your eyes on the portraits that were openly displayed on the walls. Each and every frame held a pristine name in a plaque of the boys that you were once friends with; the very same ones that had sacrificed their lives the day that you had been taken in by the soldiers back home and given the chance to win at survival at the expense of theirs.
“They’re realistic, aren’t they?”
The sudden voice that enters the room sends shivers down your spine, the smoothness of it allowing for goosebumps to prick your skin, but you refuse to turn around. You could already feel his warm presence standing beside you as the two of you had been standing in front of one of the portraits, one that you recognized as Hongjoong’s while all the memories you had with him had also resurfaced into your mind.
“It was hard to get these painted, since there weren't many printed pictures of them all,” He remarks before turning to you and you notice how the moment that you both had locked eyes, everything felt different.
You knew that you jinxed yourself the moment that you started to walk through the doors.
“The painter was talented, weren’t they? If only they were all here to see these for themselves.”
All the words fell past your lips and instead were stomped on as you were at a loss for the syllables and phonetics to explain what had been going on in your mind. Instead, you take in all his beauty that was in front of you, the feeling of taking something for granted settling in your chest as you wondered how he became like this in the first place.
But to be fair, you had also contributed to this as well.
“So you’re the king, huh?” You mumbled quietly, finally making eye contact with him as you could feel his gaze burn into your soul, trying to see what your true intentions were as you, personally, had been struggling to keep a simple composure.
“You must be special then, if you’ve never heard about me. San didn’t tell you?” He muses, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You could feel the unsettling feeling in your own lungs the moment that he had said them.
Of course you have heard about him, you knew him.
It was evident that he didn’t recognize you, making you realize that he had never remembered you the moment that he must’ve been alive again. The realization makes your heart weigh heavy in your chest as tears slightly prick the corners of your eyes once again, but you disregarded them by clearing your throat before continuing once again, hoping that maybe this time around you could be more sure about yourself… or him.
“He told me what I needed to know, don’t worry about me-”
“Then there must be a reason why you came here in the first place,” He says, smirking before heading out of the room first with his hands before his back and with the way that he walks away first makes you want to gravitate to follow him.
“Aren’t you going to come along, sweetheart?”
His words make your face flush at the pet name before you slowly trail behind him, unsure of where he would be leading you in the castle. You looked around your surroundings as he had directed you to who knows where, but it wasn’t until the two of you had started going up stairs that brought your attention back to realize that he was taking you upstairs and you wondered where he wanted you to go with him.
The door that he suddenly opens leads to the rooftop, or at least some part of the roof that was part of the castle and he motions for you to sit down beside him, close to the ledge. Your feet stay grounded as you look out towards the view to see what he sees everyday; flaming red fire that never seems to burn out or disintegrate from its own fumes.
It’s quiet as the two of you stare out at the kingdom, neither of you deciding to say anything but instead letting the loud silence overtake you both. You weren’t sure what to say in the first place, trying to take in the fact that he was still alive and well in front of you. The only thing that was different was the fact that he didn’t remember you, and this time he was a fire wielding individual that held power in his own kingdom, in which he had built from the ground up.
You didn’t know this Jung Wooyoung.
“Those people on the wall that you were looking at earlier… How did you know them?” He suddenly asks you quietly, finally breaking the silence that was looming over the both of you, as if you both weren’t sitting on the roof of the castle that was overseeing the rest of the kingdom.
Your eyes glance between him and the buildings in front of you as everything slowly settles into your mind. It seemed as though he had everything he could even ask for in the first place as you knew that you couldn’t take that away from him, not when he seems to be content with what he has in his hands now; which was why you decided that maybe you should start to let go the ghost memory that you had of him… slowly.
“They meant everything to me, the same way they were everything to you.”
You decided to stay, at least for the sake of San’s convenience.
After that first day of seeing him again, the idea of running away was more appealing to you. It was up until nightfall that San had found you on the rooftop still about an hour after Wooyoung went back inside. The argument he made about you possibly being able to help him regain his memories was a possibility that could happen, and you think that it’s pathetic of you to use that as your excuse as you had been in the fiery kingdom for these last two weeks.
However that must not have been the case if you weren’t in a room full of people who’s gazes could cut through a knife.
Today was a meeting that was meant to be between Wooyoung and San with a new group that was rising within the kingdom itself, wanting to hear out their demands as they heard from insiders about a possible rebellion. You knew that San was relieved about the fact that they had sought them out quickly, but to what extent were they safe, given the fact that the demands the groups had asked were a lot to even wish for.
“There’s no way I can do that.”
His words were cold enough to send shivers down your spine, recognizing that tone as one where he wanted to cut to the chase. You experienced this side of Wooyoung more than enough, considering he had been nothing but cold to you the entire time that you’ve been staying and you wouldn’t have been here either; it was because of San's faith and hope that made you stay.
“Why? Are you scared that even you, the most powerful king, can’t handle a little fire?” The leader of the group tauned, smirking as the toothpick in between their teeth ever-so-slightly moved to the corner of their lips whilst pressing their hands to the table, looming close to Wooyoung, “How cute-"
“Don’t test me right now, Kyungmin. You know damn well that it’s not safe, considering power is harder to wield for the wrong purposes.” Wooyoung threatens, shooting daggers at the younger but neither of them decided to stand down from their stare off in the tension filled room.
He was right though.
The plan that Kyungmin and his crew had supposedly come in to ask Wooyoung to create was a subsidiary fire environment that would rule under another leader, one that wouldn’t have to abide by the rules of Ignatius. It would’ve required a lot of power and strength that you all know Wooyoung was able to wield considering he built his kingdom from the ground up, but he knew that by listening to Kyungmin’s wishes would only create more chaos than it should have been.
“Afraid of embarrassing yourself in front of your precious angel-”
“Get out of here, Yang Kyungmin, before I make you leave right now.”
There’s a louder silence as you could feel your face heat up from what was just exchanged, unsure as to what had just happened. You turned to make eye contact with San, who was just as confused as you were, until his face became more stern, getting ready to immediately press his walkie to call the guards outside of the room for standby to get rid of the group out of the secluded meeting room.
Before you could even blink, they suddenly all disappeared from your line of sight, leaving you alone with Wooyoung in the room as you watched him try to collect his thoughts from the side. You weren’t sure what to do at the moment, considering you didn’t have the right to even comfort him since he was still cold to you, but maybe…
“Do you want to go take a walk?”
Your small offer made him snap out of whatever trance he was in, making him turn his head over to where you had been standing with your hands behind your back awkwardly and he let out a breath. However he seems to take in your offer, for once, as he motions for you to head out first, until he shuts the door behind you the moment that you leave past the door frame. The sound of it slamming behind makes you jump in surprise before you’re turning to face the door with a frown on your face.
So much for turning things around.
A breath escapes your lips as you turn to head back to the room that you had been staying in these days, walking past the servants that looked at you with a grim look on their faces knowing the history you had with the boy earlier. You couldn’t help but remember your first night here, knowing that it was a rocky start and that was when everyone had pieced it together from then.
It was a quiet dinner when San had called you down to eat with him and Wooyoung, the thought of it seeming harmless as you walked out of your room after showering. You were wearing clothes that one of the maids had left out for you to wear after grabbing some from the shops within the kingdom, luckily fitting you as you walked into the dining hall with ease as though you had been living here your entire life.
To be quite fair, it was built exactly the way that you both had talked about before in the past.
The memory of you and Wooyoung spending countless nights talking about your future together was nothing but an empty promise, you remembered planning each distinct detail of the building. If only he had remembered you instead of the architecture, you thought to yourself, taking a seat on the opposite side of Wooyoung, as the only seat open seemed to be beside San.
From what you remember, the dinner was quiet as the three of you had not spoken with all of the servants surrounding you guys. Nobody had spared a single thought out loud and instead were sounds of each of you quietly eating your dinner in peace. It wasn’t until you slightly turned your head to lock eyes with San that he made a small motion with his eyes to make some small talk, as if that were going to help make the dinner less awkward.
However, it seems as though Wooyoung had seen through your little exchange as he shot daggers at you both through his gaze before setting his utensils from his grip. He lets out an exasperated, but also exaggerated sigh in which you could tell was dripping with sarcasm before he decides to break the long awaited silence that was just meant to be broken.
“Are you two going to do this all night, or do you want to tell me what’s going on?” He breathes out, making you freeze in your spot considering you didn’t think that he would directly call you both out on it.
“Damn, what's up your ass?” You mumbled before stuffing your food-filled fork into your mouth. For a split second you could hear San stifle his laughter, just as you can hear Wooyoung silently grumbling to himself before standing up and taking his dinner to where you presumed was his workroom.
And from there on out, it had been nothing but coldness from him this whole entirety of your stay.
You shut the door quietly once you had finally made it back to the room, letting out a breath that you unknowingly had been holding in before sliding down against the door. Being around him felt like it was asking for too much of your energy, your mental one, to even bear with his now newfound disruptive and cold aura, because you could only hold onto the idea that he might remember for so long…
It was at this point where you were pretty sure that at this point, the old Wooyoung wasn’t going to come back.
Your eyes trailed over to where you had some of your stuff on the nightstand, away from wandering eyes because only you had decided to keep it there out of reach. A picture frame, as easy and cliche as it sounds, had rest upon the nightstand as you walked over to hold it in your hands, looking at the image itself to reminisce how easy it was back then; it was easy enough to be around him, to even tolerate the fact that his presence was something that you had been looking for all your life because you were meant to be soulmates.
The universe had a really cruel way of playing with your heart at this moment, and you wondered what you must’ve done in your past life to end up this way with the burning feeling of emptiness in your heart. Rather than an inflation of love spewing in it, replace one that you could only identify as bitterness, envy, as you wondered why you couldn’t be with your soulmate like everyone else could, and why you lived through what you did.
It was to the point where those thoughts had drained your energy, forgetting when you had fallen asleep in the middle of the night on your bed with the picture of both you and Wooyoung on your first anniversary in your hands.
Something felt off.
There was an overwhelming silence as you were currently walking around the palace, finding yourself wandering into the room that you went to when you first arrived here about a month ago. The portraits of the other boys stared back at you with a sense of familiarity, making you wish that they were still around to also help you and San guide in helping Wooyoung regain his memories from back then. So far in a span of a month, nothing had progressed in gaining them back except for the fact that something shifted in your relationship.
Since the day that he had shut the door on you after the meeting with Kyungmin, his demeanor seemed to have changed as he was awkwardly not cold to you anymore. There were many attempts in which you assumed was trying to make peace with you, but you weren’t sure considering he had only left after giving or telling you something that would’ve caught you off guard; assuming that he must’ve felt embarrassed to.
The silence in the room feels comforting, for a moment, as you scanned the portraits the same way that you did then and tears fill your eyes with the overwhelming emotion of remorse; the consequences to save not only you from dying back home and himself was the cost of other peoples’ lives.
Was it not selfish of you both to go through Wooyoung’s plan? What if-
“Happy birthday, Y/N.”
The soft voice of someone entering the room breaks you out of your trance as you quickly turn around in your spot to face both Wooyoung and San with smiles on their faces. Your eyes looked down to see the red frosted cake that was in the elder’s hands and a bouquet of white roses in the latter’s, making you wonder why they took it upon themselves to have this celebration for you in the first place.
“What did you both do?” You hinted, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you raise an eyebrow at their antics and you notice the quick exchange of eye glances between them.
They were definitely hiding something.
“Can’t we celebrate your birthday in peace?” San jokes before motioning towards the cake that was still in his hands, making you realize that they were lit up for a moment as you stared at the flickering flames.
“Make a wish, Y/N!”
You hesitate for a moment to think about what you wanted to wish for this year, but there was only one that came to mind as you looked between the boys and the cake in front of you. I wish that Wooyoung would come back, you thought to yourself, locking eyes with the boy himself as you blew out the candles with a heartbroken smile.
As much as you had wanted your wish to come true, it couldn’t. Amidst the warm smiles, you locked eyes with Wooyoung as he handed you the bouquet of roses while San went off to grab a knife to cut proper slices of cake for the three of you.
Silence filled the room like it always had whenever it was just the two of you.You felt something shift as his fingers brushed against yours in the exchange, and what you always felt from his cold touches happened to be more warm. His eyes gazing into your own, an unfamiliar feeling settles in your chest as you try to maintain the eye contact that he had initiated in the first place until he breaks the short lived tension.
“We got you strawberry cake. It’s your favorite right?” He muses, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You don’t remember telling him such a small detail about yourself, making you think that San had told him.
“I had a hunch, so I went along with it.”
His words answered your thoughts as you looked up at him curiously, unsure how he knew that you were questioning him. Once San came back into the room with three slices of the aforementioned strawberry cake. The tension in the atmosphere dissipates as you take the slice from his hand and bite into it, savoring its sweetness and the slight bitterness of the strawberry on your tastebuds.
“This is actually really good.” You muttered to yourself in awe, turning to face them, small smiles lingered on their faces between bites.
“Wooyoung actually made it-.”
The four words nearly made you slightly hiccup as you nearly choked on the cake, but the two of them had helped you stop choking as Wooyoung instantly offered you a glass of water which had been brought in by one of his servants. The two of you exchanged a look, considering you were very weary of his kind actions, but nothing else was said as you took a gulp.
“Was my baking really that bad, that you started to choke?” He joked, making you look at him in confusion and you wonder who this new Wooyoung was.
“No, it’s fine,” You mumbled as you set the water back to where it had originally come from, taking the cake back to your bedroom in silence.
When you were out of both their sights, both Wooyoung and San exchanged spare glances before the younger let out a soft sigh before slowly following you back to your room. As he walked down the familiar path, thinking about everything that had happened in a span of a month. Today he had made it his mission to get you to forgive him for everything he had done to you since then, considering he was nothing but cold and closed off.
He’s faced with your door as he hears small sniffles from the other side, making his eyebrows furrow at the sound before staring down at the roses he happened to still have in his grasp. Raising his hand, he knocks on your door gently, hoping that maybe he wasn’t intruding on what must’ve been a vulnerable moment for you until he hears slight shuffles to where the door was as it opened to the sight of you.
“What do you want, Wooyoung?” You mumbled, looking at him in confusion.He had seen the way your eyes were rimmed with red; indicating that you must’ve been crying as soon as you had gotten back to your room.
Was he the cause of it?
“Want to take a small walk with me?” He asks you softly, offering you the bouquet of roses as he watches you contemplate for a moment before nodding your head in response.
You open the door wider so that you could take the bouquet from him and he takes a few steps away from your door, motioning for you to go first when suddenly you slam the door shut in front of his face. He was baffled for a moment, unsure as to why you had shut the door on him in the first place, but he remembers the day that he had done that very same thing to you after the meeting.
“Karma’s a bitch, Wooyoung. Thanks for the roses, though.” He hears you voice out from the other side of the door. Silent once more as a small smile blossoms on his face.
He can’t bring himself to admit that you've been plaguing his mind, your presence alone making him less concentrated on his duties and instead understand why you still continued to stay when he has only been cold to you. However, the past few weeks have been filled with blurred dreams of him with someone’s voice who had seemed so distant, yet their presence felt familiar to him.
He wasn’t sure who it was, but one thing for sure was that somehow it all went back to you. He pondered as he walked back down the corridors to his workroom.
Why were you still there waiting on him?
You woke up to chaos erupting outside your window.
Your comforter was immediately thrown to the side of your bed as you scrambled to your window, seeing a group of people attempting to barge into the palace, visible anger emitting from the crowd. Your blood runs cold as you could see their leader, Kyungmin, standing at the center, his shouts louder than anyone else’s. You could hear him demand to see Wooyoung from inside.
At the same time, you could hear people pacing around the palace to help prepare for what might be a massacre, but you didn’t want to think about that. Instead you left your room to head towards San’s quarters, knocking on his door loudly, hoping that he could spare some answers but when the doors had finally opened, you were instead greeted by the sight of Wooyoung.
“Why is Kyungmin here?” You immediately asked, concerned about the safety of your best friend and the latter in front of you. You noticed he was dressed in protective gear, and that’s when you had realized that this must’ve been serious.
“He wants to charge the palace and take my powers for himself. Y/N, go back to your room where it’s safer. Let us handle this.” He says, starting to stalk past you until the moment that you quickly grab his wrist to stop him, turning his figure back around to face you.
“No, let me help you guys-”
“Y/N, it’s too dangerous for you to be here, just go back.” He argues and for a moment it feels like deja vu all over again from the last time you were both here in this situation; the one that had cost the lives of all your friends for the sake of your own.
A loud beat of silence overtook you both as he waited for you to back down, hoping that maybe you would actually go back so that you wouldn’t get hurt from what was yet to come. This specific scene playing out in front of him felt familiar as well, making him unsure as to why it did when he looked into the pained expression behind your eyes. However before he could say anything, your fingers brush away from his wrist and he watches as you turn away to leave him back down the corridor without another word.
You were going to show him that you were more than capable of handling yourself.
Not wanting to sit back this time, you went back to your room with intent in your mind as you looked through your stuff to find protective gear yourself along with some sort of staff that could help defend you later on. You weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into, but you were absolutely sure that you were going to be ready for anything when you faced the crowd later.
The moment that you were graced with the view of the crowd was almost too anxiety-inducing, considering there were so many rebels under Kyungmin’s leadership that filled the foyer. They were fighting against the guards that had been doing nothing but trying to safely stop them without physically hurting them, but it only became worse as you noticed someone being crowded in the corner of your eye.
With every strength that you could manifest, you reeled your arm back before reeling the staff over your shoulder to where the crowd suddenly scattered the moment that you launched it, watching as all eyes were now on you. Smoke erupts from the tip of the staff you'd just thrown, leaving everyone else to rush out of the palace to retreat from the scene except for two rebels who had been left behind.
Your eyes scan for both Wooyoung and San, realizing that they were both on opposite ends of the spectrum as Wooyoung had been defending himself against two of the rebels from the leftover crowd. Unfortunately for you, you felt as though time had slowed down the moment that you finally were able to find Kyungmin, remembering his presence as you notice him slowly creeping up on San, who had been distracted with regaining his vision from the smoke.
“San, look out!”
Your words seemed to come out hoarse, because the moment that they escaped your lips was when you let out heavy coughs from the smoke slowly coming up to where you were. Everything unfolded in front of you as you watched San quickly turn to shoot Kyungmin in the stomach, watching as the latter cripples in front of him as he stood in front of the now dead corpse.
You rushed over to where San had been standing, but it wasn’t until you watched him turn around to see that he had been clutching his stomach as there was a large gash bleeding through his shirt. A gasp escapes your lips as you catch him the moment that his knees give out on him, not wanting to touch the dagger that had been stabbed into his stomach but you were afraid.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help you get Wooyoung to remember…” He mumbles quietly, labored breaths escaping his lips as you shake your head in response,tears haphazardly escaping your eyes.
“No no no… you weren’t supposed to get hurt this time, San-”
“Hey, it’s okay, Y/N,” He says while wiping the strands of hair away from your eyes and you couldn’t help but let sobs escape just as the sounds of someone’s rushed footsteps run over to where you were, “Wooyoung-”
“San, you’re not dying on me now,” The younger states almost immediately, but the moment that Wooyoung had touched San’s wrist to at least help fasten the healing process there was nothing that came out of him, making him realize what it had meant.
“It doesn’t hurt, I promise. You don’t have to take my pain away anymore… ”
He lets out a weak smile and looks at the both of you, two cursed soulmates, with fondness in his eyes and you couldn’t help but think that it was your fault because you didn’t warn him fast enough. Reaching out to hold both of your hands, he gives you a small look before motioning for you to move in closer so that he could whisper something to you in secret as his last wish.
Wooyoung notices how your eyes widen in surprise, but you were silent the entire time throughout the exchange between you both.
“I… I can’t-”
“Trust me, Y/N… You’ll be happy again.” He weakly smiled before his eyes had finally grown heavy, fluttering shut slowly as neither of you had said anything.
You felt as if your world had finally crumbled down, the only person that had been there to support you throughout the last few years had left for good. Now that he was gone, you weren’t sure what else you were meant to be doing at the fire palace that you had grown to adjust to when the person who ruled the kingdom in the first place was giving you mixed signals.
“He’s going to be taken to a friend of mine, Taehyun the ice king. His ice palace is far away from here, but they’re going to see if they can turn his ashes to ice after the funeral… You should go to sleep, Y/N. We’ve suffered enough, after today.” Wooyoung breathes out quietly, glancing over to see you still frozen in your spot where you were still looking down at San’s now still body on the blood-stained palace floor.
But the moment when he reaches out to you is when you turn around and leave him; not a single word leaves your lips as he watches you disappear back into depths of the hallways without realizing that he never asked if you were okay in the first place.
The room ironically felt cold, despite being in the palace of fire.
With your knees up to your chest, you could only stare at the ground in front of you blankly as the last couple hours of the previous night were catching up to you. You felt lost and empty as you wondered where everything had gone wrong. Ever since the moment that you had stepped foot into the cursed place, you could only blame yourself for the passing of your best friend. While everyone else was at the funeral that was currently being held, you were alone in your room.
You shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but the same could've been said about him, if the both of you weren’t there, he could’ve been beside you right now. You remember how cold San had felt in your touch as you heard about how Wooyoung’s men took him to another kingdom made of ice, to try to help sustain his supposedly faint heartbeat, but you were pretty sure that he was long gone now.
There was no way San would have survived the incident or the trip to the ice palace, and it was all your fault.
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you thought to yourself that you should’ve never come here in the first place, despite San’s wish for you to try and convince Wooyoung to remember his past. Was the entire trip worth it, when it came with the cost of not your life, but the one person that held your reality with a sense of hope? San was dead, and you didn’t know what you were supposed to do. There wasn’t anyone else in the world that you could live with, especially not if your own soulmate couldn’t even remember who you were.
You tear your eyes away from whatever you had been dozing off to and turn toward the newly placed vase of white roses in your room, remembering how both San and Wooyoung had gifted it to you for your birthday prior to everything. Taking strides toward the elegant vase, you could feel the tears stream down the apples of your cheeks as you picked up one of the rose stems, noticing the thorns had been cut off prior to avoiding you from getting pricked by them.
How considerate.
The rose in your hand felt heavier than it looked. You knew this was the last memory you had of San, and what was a better way of remembering him than finding him in the afterlife? The window was ajar, giving you an opportunity to light the rose with the flames covering the sides of the palace, waiting a moment for a flicker of light to set the rose aflame before pulling it back inside.
Taking the small flame on the white rose that was in your hand, you slowly let it roll out of your hands as you watched vibrant colors waver in front of your eyes. The fire igniting from the small flower was the only thing you kept your eyes on as the innocent white color began to churn, slowly burning from the intensity of the fire’s magic. Streaks of fire slowly enveloping the entire room you were in.
A small breath escapes your lips as you let out a weak chuckle, thinking that this might be the last thing you remember. The heat was slowly getting to you, the ashes and smoke that were filling the room clouding your thoughts. The last thing you remember before blacking out were flashes of your life flashing before your eyes momentarily, reminding you of your tragic love story that you had set alight.
The smell of smoke, however, fills Wooyoung’s nose as he walks down the hallway to greet you for dinner, but something feels off. He could see smoke slowly filling his gaze, his eyes darting over to the origins of it as he recognized it to be your room. It was as if his feet had carried him on their own before his brain could even process it, because almost instantly he arrived at your door in a split second.
It was locked, he tried to jiggle it open, but the moment that he felt the extensive heat on the palm of his hands, it was as if he had been shocked by not lighting, but new memories that had surged from the back of his mind. His hand burned slightly as he let out a yelp, making him pull away from the doorknob, until suddenly his head began to hurt; the more that his blurred dreams from the last few weeks became more apparent, the clearer the memory became .
It was you.
You who had been with him years before, being with the rest of the team and by his side. It was you who he had made promises to and never intended to break, the person that he knew was supposed to be with him for his life because he knew that the two of you were meant to be; soulmates. You were his soulmate, and here he was, finally remembering you after so long when you must’ve been suffering this without him.
“Y/N!”
His shouts blocked out the loud thuds of him attempting to break open the door, and if it weren’t for his aching shoulder, he would’ve given up. However, the fires that were slowly engulfing the room that made the door even hotter and after one more big shove, the door finally burst open as he darted into the room, bringing you out of the burning death trap.
You were unconscious in his arms as he tried to get you out as far away as possible from the flames that he had diffused with a quick movement of his hand, bringing you to his bedroom where he knew he had spare equipment. There was soot covering your body from head to toe, but Wooyoung’s only concern was to make sure that you were still alive as he delicately placed you on his bed.
He immediately checks your pulse, feeling the light beats of your heart still pulsing in your veins and he instantly feels relieved that you were still with him. Resorting to giving you CPR, he continues to attempt to resuscitate you as he mentally prays to himself that you would be okay until your eyes finally shot open. Grabbing out a glass of water for you to drink, you slowly take it from his hold but your eyes were on his shaking body as he had tried to process what had just happened.
“What were you thinking, Y/N? You could have died!”
“And you should have let me.”
“Why should I, when I had just gotten you back?” He argues back and there’s a silence that engulfs the both of you as he can sense that you were frustrated with him.
However, he was just as frustrated considering he had regained all his memories, and right when he did, he had almost lost you again; just like he did during the time loop in the past.
His words felt as though they were twisting both your heart and your thoughts as you couldn’t help but let tears stream down your face. You wanted to believe him in this moment, that he suddenly had gained all his memories and that this was the Wooyoung that you loved, the one that was your soulmate until the very end. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him as you stared at the man in front of you in disbelief while you felt yourself being brought into his chest to console.
You didn’t stop him from doing so, because you were still confused. You wanted to hate him, for putting you through so much and for the endless heartbreaks you suffered through. But at the same time, you wanted to feel relieved. You wanted to believe in the fact that he had finally remembered you and your entire past together, but you were still uncertain…
“You don’t remember me, there was nothing that would have worked. You can’t be serious right now, Wooyoung, of all times. San’s dead, and just when I was going to go find him, you saved me from that. Why would you save me, when you should’ve just let me go?” You cried, feeling yourself hiccupping in between your words but you could feel him gently wipe your tears as he had slowly rubbed your back comfortingly.
“I burned an entire world for you, and I'll do it a million times again if I have to. You might think that I’ve forgotten, but I finally remember… I remember when I first loved you, and I remember nearly dying loving you.” He declares, still holding you close into his chest as you found comfort into his fast heartbeats that were thumping in your ear.
You felt as if your heart would explode, chills raising the hairs on your arms as you suddenly felt teardrops into your hair. You instantly looked up to see that he started crying, an instinctive feeling in which you moved your hand up to wipe the tears away from the apples of his cheeks, but you still felt weary of this moment as you couldn’t understand why it was when you were on the brink of death, that he finally regained all memories and saved you from dying again.
“If you really remember everything about us… what's one thing that we both did before we broke the time loop that we were stuck in?” You whispered quietly, refusing to meet his eyes as you knew that he was racking his brain for answers.
“I held you one last time, hearing you say that you had loved me and were willing to trust my plan to make sure that you wouldn’t die again on my watch.”
It was as if the universe had finally healed as you could only feel warmth from him and everything was finally coming together with the right pieces. He tenderly took your hand into his and placed a gentle kiss on each of your knuckles, making you feel as though you were rejuvenated once again now that he was finally back.
“Are you really back, Wooyoung? After the last month of hell, and losing our best friend because of everything… is our soulmate bond actually rebuilt just like that, because you saved me again?” You whispered softly, clasping onto his hand and squeezing it slightly.
You could see the corners of his lips curl into a beautiful drawing that could paint your mind forever.
“You’re the only one for me, Y/N. It was always you, and it always will be.” He smiles gently, leaning in to kiss you and within the kiss, you could feel a familiar burning passion that you recognized to be only from him as you kissed him back; this was where you were meant to be.
In his arms and only with him.
He was a fire that was able to ignite an entire kingdom with one touch, yet with you, he was the one that finally crumbled to his own feet. He had set fire to a world around him, ready to bring everyone to their horrible downfalls if they were to ever deceive him, but never had he once let a flame touch you; his one and only untouchable blue flame.
permanent taglist: @allyg-onz @viastro @bbanghoonie @wooyoung-a @pwttychannie @sunwoahkim @karsohn @escapewriter @wooyeouu @0710khj @awfullytiredbuthealing @fylithia @myluv-yeonjun @allorysayshi @nlnkm @jannine00742 @rebsmoonn @jjhmk @beomgyugyu @ja4hyvn @noempathyy @wccycc (add yourself to my permanent taglist here!)
cannot tag: @cowboyjaehyun @soobin-chois
#8makes1teamnet#ateezlovenet#ficscafe#kvanity#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fluff#ateez angst#ateez oneshots#ateez x reader#ateez#jung wooyoung#wooyoung imagines#wooyoung scenarios#wooyoung fluff#wooyoung angst#wooyoung oneshots#wooyoung x reader
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Welcome Home
Being an adult is shitty. Specially when you don't feel like one. What do they mean, getting a job, paying bills and constant responsabilty??!! This is exactly why you couldn't live alone for long, you were fast to let your thoughts take over you and because of that spiralling was quite frequent.
You tried convincing some of your friends to move in with you, offered to do all the dishes for an entire month, accepted to move into the smaller bedroom, but in the end no one wanted or could accept the offer. Hope was starting to fade but you're not a quitter, at least that's what you try to tell yourself in situations like these. The last resort was to advertise it online.
Surely someone would accept it, however there's many risks that come with that possibility and you want to live for a long time. Despair and frustration, the worse pair, was teaming up against you, and they had a very high chance of winning if you look at their record sheet. A ping made you jump off of your chair, you weren't talking to anyone so this was definetely unexpected, but not unwanted, you could use the company.
yuyu:
Are you still looking for a housemate?
y:
IAM, PLEASE TELL ME YOU CHANGED YOUR MIND!
yuyu:
No sorry ahaha But i have a friend who is interested.
y:
Do I know them?
yuyu:
Kinda? I mean you've guys spoken to each other before, at my birthday I think. It's wooyoung.
That name is familiar, as you started to search through your memories, Yunho's birthday party folder showed up, a brief replay of the moment you introduced yourself to everyone and there he was, sitted next to San. You only have good things to say about him, super approachable, funny, helpful... This situation was starting to fix itself.
y:
Give him my adress and my number. Oh and tell him to meet me here tomorrow at 11am. So he can see the place and we get to know each other.
yuyu:
Okay, he said he'll be there.
9:00am and you were wide awake, you wanted to leave the apartment spotless, look good and also grocery shopping. The plan is to make him lunch, something easy because you don't intend to burn the place down. So off to the supermarket you were.
The walk home was much worse due to the heavy bags but nothing could discourage you. You exude happiness ever since you got Yunho's text yesterday, cloud9 was so close, the only thing left was wooyoung saying yes.
Food prep? Done, House duties? Done, last step, getting ready. You already had chosen the outfit in your mind, nothing too fancy just an oversized t-shirt and a pair of jeans. The special element was your kuromi socks since the neutral ones were in the wash.
11:00am finally comes around and your excitment can't contain itself, you're walking from one side of the living room to the other, looking at the clock every 5 seconds, wondering when he'll get here. After almost 100 laps around the couch your phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi, it's Wooyoung, I'm downstairs, I didn't know which floor it was so I decided to call you instead."
"Oh yeah, second floor on your right."
"Thanks, I'll be right there."
As soon you hung up, you threw your phone back on the couch and ran to the door. You put your head on the peep hole to see him from the elevator. The doors opened and he stepped outside, heading torwards your place, but something was different, his hair was longer. A knock on the door woke you back up and you opened the door.
"Welcome to your future home, please come on in." you said while smiling.
"What makes you think I'll want to stay here?"
"Great area, spacious apartment, plenty of transportation, close to Yunho's house and an amazing housemate. You'll be dumb if you pass up this opportunity."
"Not even 5 minutes in and you're already insulting me?" he acted shocked.
"If I didn't know you better, I'd actually feel guilty about my comment and besides, it only counts as an insult if you don't end up wanting to stay. So choose wisely."
"So tell me about you." He spit out.
You gave him a tour, told him the house rules and so far so good. He seemed very pleased, your hope was growing by the minute. Your food was also tasting extra good, you couldn't tell if it was your skills improving or the delusion speaking.
"Me? Well there's not much to tell."
"Then why were you so desperate to get a house buddy?"
You choked on your food.
"I WAS NOT DESPERATE OKAY I WAS JUST PASSIONATE ABOUT THIS."
He couldn't stop laughing he even put his fork down to clap.
"No need to get embarassed I was just wondering. I wanted to be closer to the center of Seoul for professional reasons but also to experience more of the city life. But everything is expensive nowadays and what isn't is already taken or doesn't have that much of great conditions."
"So we met at each other at the right time! Well sure we first interacted at Yunho's house but you know... officially."
"I must say I really liked you at that time, you were very cheerful and loud kinda like me. I mean when he said you'd show up I was a little scared cause we can be a looot but you handled us pretty well."
"Yah did I ever look weak to you Jung Wooyoung!!"
The conversation flowed so well he stayed ever until it was dark outside. It's safe to say that in the end he said yes.
previous// //next
#wooyoung scenarios#wooyoung oneshots#wooyoung imagines#wooyoung fluff#wooyoung masterlist#wooyoung hours#jung wooyoung#ateez wooyoung#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung#ateez masterlist#chaeinedup
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ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ
pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader
genre: smut <3
summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.
w.c: 3.3k
warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing
a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33
song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)
“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”
“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”
She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”
You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”
“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.
“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.
“Where are you going?”
Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”
The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.
-
“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.
San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.
Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”
Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.
You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.
“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.
He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.
Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.
“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.
You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”
Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”
“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”
“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”
One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.
As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.
“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,” his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”
You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.
San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”
Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”
Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”
And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”
“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.
“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”
“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.
Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”
“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”
“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.
However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”
Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.
“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.
-
“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”
“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.
“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”
“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”
“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.
“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”
“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”
You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.
“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.
Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.
“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”
Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.
Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”
Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.
“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”
San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”
Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.
San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”
“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.
“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.
Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.
Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.
San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.
Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.
“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.
“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.
Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”
Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2023.
#cultofdionysusnet#cromernet#scheduled post#ateez#ateez smut#ateez oneshot#san ateez#choi san#san smut#ateez fanfiction#ateez x reader#wooyoung ateez#wooyoung smut#jung wooyoung#wooyoung x reader#san x reader
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splish splash.
pairing. san x seonghwa x wooyoung x yunho x fem!reader
synopsis. they’re out to prove who’s the best at the breast-stroke- gets dragged off stage as the people boo over such a terrible pun.
warnings. no use of y/n, swim team au, lifeguard!reader, pro-swimmers!sanhwawooho, they’re all wearing speedos :), smut ( porn with unnecesary plot, degradation, m+f oral sex, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, triple penetration bc u got 3 holes for a reason sweetcheeks, mxm interactions, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, hair pulling, way more warnings that there’s honestly no point listing, just know this is pure filth that covers most bases of stereotypical fanfiction smut, mother in christ what have i written? ) no verbal consent is given throughout this but all parties are willing participants !!
word count. 20k+ ( of literal porn. i need to leave this physical terrain bc i am not worthy of existing after writing this i fear. )
hyde’s input. hey girlie pops, long time no see.
it’s crazy, what some people will do for money.
take, for example, your roommate. she’s a smart girl. a beautiful one, too. with a promising future in criminal law, once she gets herself that pesky little degree. and, yet, she’s funding her tuition with money she earns distributing high-end drugs on campus. rather counter-productive, most would agree. or, in a far less extreme version, there’s that overly-hyper frat boy, who can always be found doing the dumbest dares at a party, all for a few bucks and a keg of beer.
and then there is you.
you would have arrived home twenty minutes ago at this point, had things gone to plan, a backlog of neglected assignments and a baby bonsai tree in need of watering desperately awaiting your return. yet here you are, stuck in your ugly flip-flops and uncomfortably stale shorts, whistle around your neck and a look of exhaustion on your face.
the swimming pool had closed, technically, an hour and a half ago. the sports centre seems to believe, however, that certain members of the college swim team reserve the right to use the pool for however long they require and desire, even if it is at your expense. if you were being paid overtime, perhaps you’d have a more positive outlook on things and less of a frown creasing on your forehead.
if the swimmers weren’t so irritating, maybe you’d enjoy the view.
“all that height, and for what?” the sophomore boy’s voice- jung wooyoung? you aren’t overly familiar with him, seeing him only in sporadic flashes when you pass each other on campus or at some uncivilised frat party- echos through the large room, his hair a wet mess. if you were gaining anything from being here, you’d perhaps muster up the energy to remind the boy of how a swim cap is necessary at all times in the water. “can’t even out-swim me with those long legs!”
“wanna know what my long legs are for?” jeong yunho, a junior with the face of an angel and the body proportions of a sinner, pipes up from across the olympic length pool. unlike the other boy, a crimson cap keeps his own locks out of sight. “climbing up the stairs to go fuck your mom!”
it’s impossible to stifle your laughter, no matter how hard you try to just play it off as a tickle at the back of your throat, a cough forcing its way out. when your eyes meet those of the glaring senior, however, you’re wishing you hadn’t made a sound.
“even the lifeguard can’t take you seriously, yunho,” park seonghwa speaks, eyes not leaving yours as his muscled arms work to pull himself out of the water, before letting his well-rounded behind sit down on the edge. a breath hitches in your throat as his gloriously muscled thighs come into view, drops of water cascading down them in a pattern set to hypnotise you, keep you staring a little longer than is good for your health. “bet she’s heard all about you and the boner incident of 2019.”
truthfully, you have no clue what the dark haired male is on about. that doesn’t stop you from laughing again though, this time a little out of malice and a lot because it’s quite endearing to see a loudmouth like jeong yunho be silenced so easily, head bowed and ears a little rosier with embarrassment.
this small moment of peace is soon shattered by the reality that these boys can’t spend more than ten minutes in a room- particularly one that includes a pool- without arguing. while one boasts about his speed, the other begins to jab at his lack of endurance, and the remaining of the three reminds them all of the fact he holds the most medals amongst them.
“are they always like this?” you jump, surprised by the cold drop of water that lands on your exposed thigh, all courtesy of the boy who’s invited himself to sit down next to you on the bench.
“not always,” you bite at the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to not look at san in all his wet glory. you’re afraid that, once you start looking at him, you won’t be able to stop. it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen victim to the crime that is his enchanting smile. “guess they’re feeling a little feistier than usual, with the district championship just around the corner. rumour has it one of you guys is risking his scholarship if he’s not in the top three.”
are you and san close?
that’s a good question. see, by social standards, you’re not strangers. you share several classes, you attend the same parties, you’ve even texted a few times- mostly on the days one of you miss class (read as: san misses class thanks to his swim-meets) and you need a copy of any notes taken that lesson.
but, you aren’t exactly friends either. you don’t go out of your ways to spend time together, you don’t know more than the surface level about one another, you don’t check-in with each other.
so, is acquaintances the best word to describe you two?
that depends on how common it is for an acquaintance to suck another acquaintance’s cock. granted, there had been a lot of alcohol in the mix, on both ends, with you drinking to forget a botched assignment and san drinking to forget how badly his voice had apparently cracked in front of his crush.
a few weeks have passed since the incident and things haven’t exactly been the same. you’ve missed class twice and ended up contacting heather- a sweet girl who sits down by the front and seems to live with her hand raised in the air- for any notes. likewise, san has found himself declining party invitations, the knowledge that you would be there all too prevalent in the front of his mind.
the irony is that neither of you quite know the reason why you’re avoiding each other, you just are.
or, were, until san had walked in with his swim team buddies- if they could even be considered that- and spotted you in your lifeguard attire. he hadn’t been as slick as he thought he was, sneaking glances at you between laps and even gaining an undeniable smile each time he watched you blow that stupid whistle at some misbehaving kids.
he was slicker with the fact he didn’t need to be here, at this hour. but, he figured staying gave him the chance to stare at you a little longer and, maybe, think up an excuse to talk to you.
“i should-”
“i missed-”
you both speak at the same time, minutes after watching the three musketeers disappear into the locker rooms, with the smallest of them continuing to dig at them for not being able to out-swim him despite their ample amount of height. san’s quick to signal you to go first, a dimple making itself known on his face and reminding you of the deadliest part of him: the false innocence that drips off him like warm candy.
sweet, sticky, making a mess all over the place.
“i should probably start cleaning up.” it turns out san also isn’t discreet when it comes to hiding the disappointment in his face, because no sooner than those words leave your mouth, the dimple is gone and he’s sat a little straighter, a little more ridged, like when the professor points him out in the middle of the class and the golden boy can’t stomach all the attention being on him. “but, what were you gonna say?”
“oh,” and it’s like he’s just remembered that yes, there is something he wants to say. “i missed you in class yesterday.”
it catches you off guard, leaving you to almost drop the whistle you’ve been fiddling between your fingers for the past few minutes. something about sitting so close to him while both of you are dressed so scantily has you feeling unnerved, like you need to run away as fast as possible, yet also wanting to plant yourself right in his lap.
“i didn’t think,” you’re cut off by your own throat, dry and desperate for a drink under his intense gaze. san is a walking contradiction, you think, with his sharp cheekbones and soft heart, his intense eyes and his easy-going smile. his presence gives you never-ending whiplash, never sure if he’s more angel than devil. “i didn’t think you noticed.”
“how could i not? there was no one to laugh with me at professor nam and his weird toe-shoes!” his laugh is infectious, willing your own to make an appearance.
the sound of distant muffled yelling fills the air of the swimming pool and it isn’t hard to recognise wooyoung’s high-pitched laughter amongst it. clearly, their childish arguing has carried on into the changing rooms. it surprises you in no way, already more than used to their antics.
their rivalry is one for the ages, all of them constantly bumping heads for the spot of the top swimmer on campus, their sports scholarships becoming their pride and joy.
you suppose it doesn’t help that all four boys run in different circles, only really crossing paths when faced with swim-meets and days of practice. the senior, park seonghwa, runs with the richer kids of the college, all sharing their trust-funds and god complexes as a common interest. you’re not overly familiar with them, though you’re certain he and a particular blue-haired boy are rarely seen apart. jeong yunho, the tallest, is in with the jocks, which is mostly just because his taller friend is the captain of the basketball team. and jung wooyoung tends to surround himself with the stoners from the school, something you’d learned from kang yeosang, a dealer you shared a couple classes with back in your first semester.
san, ever the golden boy, drifts between a couple different groups but he can usually be found alone and enjoying his own company, if not being followed by a flock of his own little fan-club, men and women alike begging for just an ounce of his time.
your name echos around the room. your head snaps to the side and you find that san is now closer, staring at you in a way that’s making your insides knot up. you’ve seen that look only once before, and it done nothing but leave your knees and your ego bruised. “were you listening to me?”
“what? uh, yeah, i was,” you’re quick to lie, knowing it’s about to backfire when he breaks out in a challenging grin.
“really? what did i say?” he only allows you to stumble over words for a minute before cutting off your incomprehensible speaking when he grabs at your chin and tilts your head up, staring straight into your eyes. “that’s what i thought. you were too busy getting lost in that pretty little head of yours to pay attention to me.”
you stutter over a noise and settle for that as your response, though entirely incomprehensible and nonsensical. the way he continues to stare at you feels cruel, demons dancing around in those pretty eyes of his. demons that are telling him to tease, torture, torment the fragile eyes staring back at him, the same ones he’d delighted in watching fill up with tears a few weeks back, the pressure of his crown slamming against the back of your tight throat entirely overwhelming you to the point of crying, tears dripping down your cheeks and mixing with your own drool pooling over the swell of his balls.
“need me to repeat myself?” you’re slow to catch up to the fact he’s speaking again, and even slower to notice the hand resting on your knee. at first, you think you’re imagining things, the feather light tracing of nails over your soft skin a mere figment of your imagination. but, no, your eyes flash down to glimpse and his hand is there, fingers dancing over your naked skin like it’s their own personal stage and he’s intending to put on the show of a lifetime. he speaks your name. “questions are meant to be answered.”
“i-” san picks the perfect time to apply pressure on you, hand gripping the flesh on the lower end of your thigh. goosebumps spring to life at the feeling of his cold ring on your damp skin. it takes a shaky breath to try compose yourself but you do eventually manage to get a reply out. “sorry... please say it again.”
“huh,” he pauses to contemplate, slowly leaning his face closer to your own, giving you all the time to pull back if you want to. you stay still and his minty breath infects your senses while the hand on your leg replaces your thigh with your face, the grip he has on it forcing blunt nails to nip at your skin. normally, you’d worry about the marks it’s going to leave behind. right now, you want him to grip tighter, dig deeper into your flesh till he’s drawing blood and licking it off your cheeks. “how the fuck do you still sound so cute begging?”
“is that,” his other hand curls around the back of you, finding a resting place on your hip. the window of opportunity you once had to pull back or run away is slammed shut the moment he tugs you a little closer, the side of your body crashing into his naked chest. “what you said earlier?”
“oh, no.” san almost sounds like he’s cooing, a mocking tone in his voice that has your thighs clenching in a way you’re sure he notices. his eye flickering down to glance at them confirms your suspicions, the smirk taking over his features the metaphorical cherry on top. “i was just talking about how i’ve still not returned the favour.”
mind blanking out on you, you stare back at him in what you can only imagine to be a dumb-founded look, mouth slightly agape and teasing your answer.
what follows, however, is a resounding silence on your end.
“c’mon, princess, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what happened the last time i got you alone.”
forget? it’s all you’ve been able to think of every time you’ve seen him since, whether he was a figure in the corner of your eye during class or making his way down the campus car-park in search of his beaten up mustang.
each time, like an old record player, your mind plays on loop the way he looked staring down at you, long legs spread enough to fit you between them, closing in on you to trap you in place each time you swallowed him a little deeper; replaying the symphony of whiny moans and airy breaths you’d pulled from him, lips swollen and red from trying too hard to hold back his cries of pleasure; reviving the memory of his vice grip on your hair, tugging at the roots to tilt you back into the perfect angle for his hips to piston into your warm mouth, meeting his own crescendo in one final pathetic whimper of your name.
a whimper that’s pushed you over the edge several times since, fingers soaked in your own sins and mouth biting down on your pillow to keep your poor sleeping roommate oblivious to your actions.
“no,” an answer escapes you alongside a shaky breath, something about the way he’s slowly trailing his fingers down your neck and the intensity he’s staring at you with hypnotising you into forgetting all about the boisterous boys and their changing-rooms chanting. “haven’t forgot.”
it’s his turn to stay quiet and you begin to wonder if he’s recalling it too, if he’s reminding himself of how easily your bodies melted together, like candle-wax meeting a flame. the question of if he’s thought about the exact scene, hands stuffed down his pants while a dull ache builds in his wrist, burns the tip of your tongue.
but his eyes burn you more.
they’re usually wide, bright, full of that bubbly nature san is known all over for. but, if what people say is true and the eyes are the mirror to one’s soul, then san’s soul must be a dark pit made up of lustful glares and hooded eyelids, resting so low his eyes almost appear shut.
“then, don’t you agree that it’s my turn to have a taste?”
it’s the question to end all questions, no time to even think of forming an answer when his fingertips are dancing over your skin so rhythmically, like a practiced choreography when they curl and wrap themselves around your neck. they rest there for a heartbeat, and then another, before you feel it begin.
the pressure is dull, at first, and you think you’re imagining it. but it grows, like a seed under the sun, blossoms into thorns squeezing around your airways, a deformed rose made from the red marks his fingers will be sure to leave behind.
you try to breath in, only for it to get caught somewhere between your lips and his tightening hold.
“you’re too fucking pretty, you know?” the hand on your hip has found a new home on your cheek, palm warm and thumb rough as he swipes it over your bottom lip. “all i can ever think about around you, even when you were drooling all over my balls.”
you want to answer, you really do. but between the hand around your throat and the heat shooting straight for your core, burning up in a puddle of arousal, you can’t. all you can do is watch the man before you, raven hair a beautiful mess just begging for some fingers to be ran through it and stare promising to ruin you in the best way possible.
the silence pleases him.
“y’know, it’s so hard to get you alone. always got someone wanting to talk to you, stealing your attention. do you even know how many stupid parties i had to attend to finally get the chance to talk to you?” san pauses, like he’s waiting for you to relay an answer, guess a number. he loosens up the grip on your neck, teasing your skin with a few soothing strokes of his slender fingers, lulling you into a state bordering insanity. “no answer, angel? or are you lost in that pretty little head again?”
“i’m,” your voice is but a whisper, raspy with your new found thirst. “trying to figure out what you want from me.”
if it’s the wrong or right thing to say, you’re soon to find out, the sharp faced boy releasing a dangerously low chuckle as he takes a hold of your chin. like a pretty doll, you move any time and any way his fingers command you to, finding yourself staring right up into his eyes, a swirl of melting caramel that reminds you of how sweet yet sultry every inch of him is. lips near touching, he refuses to break eye contact as he speaks up once more, sealing both your fates when his breath hits your face.
“then let me show you what i want.”
his mouth comes down on yours like it’s the answers to all your prayers and, yet, all your nightmares.
it excites you how easily he works his lips over your own, captivating every inch of you when he tilts his head to the right and deepens the kiss. the rhythm to his kiss is a mismatch of beats, where one moment your lips are moving in a sensual waltz, grazing tongues and dipping heads to get rid of that inch of a space remaining between your bodies, and the next moment your tongues are tangled in a tango, the kind where his teeth send blood rushing to your lips with every bite he drags over them and his hand drags shivers down your spine as it makes its way down your body.
yet it terrifies you how willingly you succumb to san’s touch, intoxicated by whatever witchcraft he currently holds over you. there’s a deadliness to the way his lips part from your own only to begin a seamless descent down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, a poisonous element to the way his hand once again finds itself clutching the meat of your thigh.
the moment his fingertips meet the bottom of your shorts, you’re wishing you’d never slipped them on in the first place, every fibre of your being growing angsty under the weight of his suddenly halted hand. it stays still for an immeasurable amount of time, grazing over the bottom of your shorts occasionally while he continues to mouth at your neck.
like mosses and the great sea, san parts your legs with little to no effort, creating a pathway for his fingers to travel further up your thigh. blunt fingernails drag up your skin, a trail of goosebumps being left behind, a visible marking of where he’s touching you.
his movements halt too soon for your liking, too much distance between his lithe fingers and your body’s very core.
“have you figured out what i want yet, pretty?” his voice is a stark difference to the usual light-hearted, almost squeak-like tone you’ve grown used to hearing from the smiley boy. right now, there’s no trace of humour in the thick rasp and there’s no time for smiling while he’s glaring down at you through hooded eyes.
something compels you to nod your head, even though you’re a little too lost in the thoughts concerning what you want, rather than what the devil incarnate by your side wants.
“you have?” the words come out in a layer of amazement, and you have to wonder if it’s because of the lie you’ve just told or the way your legs have closed in around his hand, trapping it between them. “i want to know what you want, though.”
you want his thumb to stop stroking over the flesh of your inner thigh.
you want his eyes to stop gazing down at you like you’re the perfect prey.
you want him to stop teetering your impending pleasure on a string.
you want-
“you.” is all you manage to breath out.
it seems to do the trick, however, your point getting very much across to him. a softness flickers over his features, brows unfurling and smirk curling up into a full smile for what feels like an eternity, but is actually no more than a couple of seconds before his devilish aura is back.
lips meet lips again, the desperation and force behind each stroke of his tongue against yours the same as before. san, much to your delight, seems to grow just as impatient as you’ve been since the moment he welcomed himself into the empty space next to you on the bench.
one hand still resting between your thighs, his other seizes the opportunity to drag your body closer, so close that you have no choice but to swing one leg over him and slot yourself in his lap.
there was one time, in the middle of what you’ve deemed to be the most boring lecture ever, that you had thought about what it would feel like to sit in choi san’s lap. unintentionally, of course, for how could anyone look over at him in those grey sweatpants, legs manspreading like it was nobody’s business and pen tapping away at the table in front of him, and not daydream about being perched in his lap, head resting somewhere between his shoulder and his soft hair?
you’d imagined him to be the embodiment of soft and comfortable, warm and reassuring the way he’d lazily lay an arm over your hip to make sure there’s no risk of you slipping out of your new seat. you never, for the life of you, imagined you’d feel the outline of his dick resting against your ass the first time you finally claimed your throne.
choosing to not dwell on the heavy feeling of him pressed against you, you choose instead to focus on the way his lips trail away from yours and make their descent towards the top of your chest.
his hand abandons post between your thighs and rises to the surface, where long fingers begin to pull at the straps of your red swimsuit, successfully manoeuvring the nylon material till it’s bunched around your midriff and your breasts are exposed to the damp air of the swimming hall.
with no want left to play around, he dives right in to dragging his lips down the upper swell of your left breast. you imagine he can feel the beating of your racing heart beneath the goosebump littered skin. it doesn’t take long for his tongue to enter the scene, skilfully flicking over your hardened nipple a couple times before enveloping his mouth around the bud.
one, two, three sucks and he’s moving on to your right breast. there’s no lead up, this time, simply his mouth finding delight in toying with your body while he busies his hand with your left side, thumb and pointer finger rolling and tugging and spreading the remnants of his saliva over your heated skin.
the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and has you arching your own, is the faintest pressure of his teeth biting down on you. it dances on a thin line between pleasurable and painful, exhilarating enough to make you throw your head back as a moan slips past your lips. it echoes in the empty room, replaying your own sound for both of you to hear again and again before the chain is broken by a giggle.
his giggle.
“why are,” he picks the right time to trail his fingers down your body, dragging your swimsuit with them till it sits uncomfortably tight around the top of your hipbones, skintight fabric digging into the damp skin. “you laughing?”
“has anyone ever told you how pretty your tits are?” it’s crude and heartwarming all at once, quite like the man who says it and the little smile he shoots up in your direction as he rolls his tongue over your nipple once again.
“no, i can’t say they have.” the hands that have been resting on his shoulder, grasping them in a vice grip in fear of slipping off of him and and directly onto the concrete floor, gain enough confidence for you let one slide around to the back of his neck and thread your fingertips in the back of his locks, hair as soft as you’ve always imagined it to be. “you’re the first.”
“i’ll wear that title with honour,” he seems to delight in the way you’re carding through his hair, eyes closing while he tilts his head back further into your touch. a delighted sigh follows. “has anyone ever asked you to sit on their face?”
“again, no.”
“another honourable title for me, i guess.” san’s giving you whiplash, with all this switching between being his usual goofy self and the man that minutes before was speaking profanities on how you’d looked choking on his dick. he peaks his eyes open again, slowly, adjusting to the bright lights he stares up at each time he’s doing the backstroke. when he has the nerves to smile at you, all dreamy eyed and relaxed sitting beneath your body on the bench. “now, can you please stand up and get naked so you can fuck yourself on my tongue?”
this time, it’s your laugh that echoes in the air.
“stop, i’m being serious!” he seems to whine his way through his words, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly in a way you’re certain is going to drive you insane. “i can’t go another second like this, you literally sitting on my dick, without blowing my load. and i really don’t feel like having to explain to coach kwon why my team speedos are stained in cum.”
“you’re so-” you give up on trying to find a single word to describe him, knowing there’s no word that can quite capture choi san’s essence. “okay, okay, fine, but you kind of need to let go of me for me to, y’know, stand up.”
“oh, sorry bout that.” san’s sheepish smile shouldn’t be this cute, not when it’s followed by him removing his hands from your half-naked body.
reluctant, your feet meet the ground and you stand up from his lap. he seems to move quicker than you, no hesitation to be seen as he twists his body around and lays along the bench on his back, eyes all the while watching you expectantly.
your fingers are far from as nimble as his, and there’s a shake to them, meaning you’re a lot less slick with how you pull the swimsuit off yourself. you opt for killing two birds with one stone, dragging your shorts down alongside the red suit, till both are pooled around your feet and you’re begging with every cell in your body that you look more graceful than you feel, stepping out of the leg holes.
in all honesty, you’re more embarrassed with the fact he’d watched you remove your clothes than with how you’re now stood naked, legs a little shaky and the wetness gathering between your folds you’re suddenly so much more aware of, the cool air fighting against your pulsating heat.
“well?” san speaks with expectation, legs bent at the knee while the balls of his feet rest on the edge of the bench. “are you gonna just stand there or you gonna sit on my face?”
“are you... sure you want me to?” even you feel the idiocy behind asking such a thing, when he’s laying right there with eyes full of glee and a raging boner pressed against his hip, nothing but the familiar colours of your college to stop you from seeing him all his naked glory. still, you can’t help elaborating. “i mean, the bench isn’t exactly sturdy and, i mean, what if i slip off of you?”
“y/n, are you joking? you have to be joking!” his offence is playful enough to ease a little of the hesitation inside of you. “do you see these puppies, baby? these are my mad gains from flailing my silly little arms around in a pool six days a week!”
you think this can’t be real as you watch the golden boy of the school put on a show, flexing his arms in an effort to display his muscles and voicing the most ridiculous words that not even he seems to be taking seriously, a bubble of laughter popping in every sentence.
“i’m not gonna let you slip, now hurry up!” again with the whining.
“god, you’re so desperate!”
“for you? always.”
the following minute is made up of wobbled steps and a poor attempt at amping yourself up, repeating mantra after mantra in your head that you are the sex goddess and no man is going to make you feel nervous. not even if that man has a jaw one could slice diamonds with.
he’s got a firm grasp of your thighs before you’ve even got the chance to get comfortable, legs a little shaky as you hover over his naked chest and will your knees to find grip on the bench beneath them.
“come closer, my tongue’s not that long!” san’s pulling you up, closer, all the way to where his wanton mouth awaits you. as if to give you a preview of what awaits you, the kisses from before reduced to nothing, his tongue pops out to run over the smooth of his bottom lip. you repeat the process of trying to find balance, a position in which you don’t need to worry about toppling overboard. though, with the way his finger squeeze into your thigh, you doubt you’ll have to worry about that truly happening. “comfortable?”
“as i’ll ever be.”
“all the people that would die to be in your position, and you say that?” he tsks, tongue hitting off the roof of his mouth before a blow of air hits against your folds and, though it’s faint from the distance still between his mouth and where he wants it to be, it sends a jolt of excitement up your spine. “i’ll just have to make sure i over-perform, make you more eager for next time.”
neither of you choose to dwell on the words next time.
him, too occupied with getting his first taste, tongue licking a strip up your core and coming to a stop as the tip of it bumps against your clit.
you, too busy having the air knocked out of your lungs, hand unconsciously finding safety in gripping his hair as you lurch forward momentarily, mouth falling open in a quiet gasp that echoes around and around.
“hmm, make sure you hold on tight.” you know he’s teasing you, with his words, and with his eyes, and with his mouth that seems to find enjoyment in trailing itself over your clitoral hood and up your pubic bone. “you smell mouthwatering, you know? enough to make a man go feral.”
the chance to reply never comes, not when san makes his way back down to your clit and greets it with the stroke of his flattened tongue. every tiny nerve sparks to life under his touch and you feel yourself grow wetter, a wave of warm arousal leaking out of your hole. his tongue dives down to welcome it, not allowing more than a single drop- landing on his chin- to go to waste.
you don’t even notice the lack of his grip around your left leg until you feel it: the first few seconds of his fingertips probing around your soaked cunt, coating themselves in your liquid pleasure until it’s dripping down the back of his hand.
the first finger to enter your hole is gentle, tentative to the way your body receives him, his pointer and ring finger keeping your folds spread and allowing him the full view of the middle one slowly disappearing from sight, burying itself in the warmth of your pussy. distracted, his mouth pulls back and his head meets the bench again while his eyes soak in the sight above him, flickering up to catch your reaction when another finger enters you, this time with a lot less care as it forces you open around it.
“so pretty,” he mutters the words, more to himself than to you, delighting as he witnesses you struggling to bite back a pathetic moan when his digits curl within you. he repeats the action a couple times, flicking his wrist back and forth, fingers brushing over your tight walls each time and culminating in a curl that has him pressing against the spongy-like flesh inside. “so, so pretty.”
your hips begin to rut against his hand, meeting every one of his thrusts with perfect timing that has him reaching deeper, further, better places inside of you. all the while he’s just watching and admiring the furrow in your brow and the way the swells of your breast bounce in sync with you.
your pussy clenches tighter and his fingers fight to reach deeper before spreading themselves wider in an attempt to scissor you open. he’s giving it his all, a third finger slipping in despite the dull ache setting in his wrist while he coaxes you closer and closer to the tipping point.
san takes just as easy as he gives, and it’s that fact alone that drives him to pull his hand back, fingers withdrawing from you and the pleasure you’re pursuing.
“why’d you-” you heave through heavy breaths, brain fuzzy from the unvoiced orgasm you were so close to having, every nerve ready to tingle, every muscle ready to tremble, every toe ready to curl. “stop?”
“because,” the wet smack of his fingers hitting against your clit is louder than the whimper that drops from your mouth. san hears both, however, and grins, quickly landing another smack against your engorged clit. “the goal is to make you cum on my face, not my fingers. consider them the appetiser, something to awaken your senses.”
his tongue licks in an upward motion, starting from the tip of your taint and ending at your clit, and you get deja-vu to just minutes before, when you’d first felt his tongue on your melting skin, the saliva it leaves in a trail behind it serving to cool you down. a shiver runs up your spine as he blows air onto your cunt, the pressure of it doing wonders to stimulate your clit.
“would you stop?”
“look who’s whining now.” san, despite what he says, does as you ask and puts an end what feels like unending teasing- really, it’s hardly been a minute but the pulsing of your heat and the loss of a climax leave you no room to think about something as abstract as time.
his lips make a victorious return, wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking against the pulsing nub. every so often, he delivers a couple kitten licks- ups and downs, sides to sides, figure eights- before swiftly returning to kissing your most intimate parts.
in an attempt to make your toes curl, he dips lower and teases the tips of his tongue over your entrance, wet muscle moving over wet skin and tastebuds covering themselves in your essence, till the moans echoing off the walls are indistinguishable between san’s and your own.
“you can move,” he grunts into you after a few minutes of repeated alternating between kissing your clit and tonguing at your hole. it’s muffled with the way he’s holding you down against his face and you feel his lips brush against your lower ones as he speaks. “need you to move. wanna see you use me, pretty.”
and, who are you to deny the man?
you’re hesitant at first, just like you were all those weeks ago as you sank to your knees for him. you test the waters and give a single roll of your hips. it feels good, great, especially when paired with his own efforts at dragging his tongue over you.
it takes a few more attempts, and san’s patience wearing thin to the point he resorts to grabbing a firm hold of your arse cheeks and planting you flat on his mouth, tongue flat and eyes staring up at you in a demand to move, goddamn it.
move you most certainly do, grinding down on his tongue like you’ve done many a time with different men’s cocks. it’s messy, sloppy in the way that his spit mingles with your wetness, a cocktail of fluids sliding down his throat, and painting his lips, and dribbling down his chin as he eats you like a man starved that’s alas getting a taste of the sweetest fruit.
the rhythm of your hips is thrown off when the man beneath you switches from having you grinding down onto his flattened tongue to slipping the muscle inside of your hole, thrusting it as far as up as the length of it allows him to. with every time your body comes crashing down on his mouth, the tip of his nose bumps against your clit, forcing you to angle yourself upwards to gain more of the friction.
hands find hair, lips part in unabashed moans, thighs shake with the oncoming of an orgasmic state of mind.
the moment builds too quickly, too unexpectedly, like the ghost of your stolen climax is back with a vengeance and set on ensuring there will be no denying it this time.
“s-shit,” your eyes squeeze shut, too scared to look down at his ecstasy filled eyes in fear of it being what finally tips you over the edge. “i’m gonna- ah- gonna cum.”
san pays no mind to your warning. if anything, he takes it as a challenge, an invisible timer beginning in his head and forcing him to see how quickly he can get you to unravel all over his face. he’s getting everything he asked for, your naked body a mess above him as you fuck yourself on his tongue and your hands, with minds of their own, sliding up to grab and squeeze at your tits.
he watches how the pastel blue nail polish clashes with the darkened colour of your abused nipples, fingers working to pinch, and twist, and pull at them as you lose yourself in the moment.
when you cum, it’s with rolled-back eyes and shaky thighs, his hands gripping at you tighter to steady you as you sway above him, his tongue working at coaxing you through your high.
he licks up every drop of cum he can manage, until you’re cringing in overstimulation and reaching down to push him away. he let’s you move him, mouth moving to trail a couple kisses over your inner thigh, something akin to lipstick stains- yet so much dirtier in nature- being left behind on your soft flesh.
“told you i wouldn’t let you fall,” he’s the first to speak, partly because he correctly thinks you’re incapable of forming anything coherent in the afterglow of your orgasm, but mostly because he wants- no, needs to hear you praise him.
needs to hear you praise him like he’d done for you that night, eyes still hooded and chest visibly heaving as he finished processing watching you swallow every spurt of hot cum he’d shot down your throat. the praise never comes.
well, at least not from you.
at first he thinks he’s imagining the sound of clapping. it’s slow, and booming, and tinted with the slightest hint of sarcasm. it grows louder though, far too loud for it to just be in his imagination. the stilling of your body, going rigid as you fall back onto his chest, the sticky remnants of your orgasm cold against his heated skin, confirms that you hear the clapping too.
“bravo, choi. always thought your reputation with the ladies was a little overhyped, but i stand corrected.”
never has he hated the sight of park seonghwa so much, not even in the times they’ve been head-to-head in the final lap and the older male’s offensively bright swim-cap is all san can see every time he twists his head to catch a breath of air.
the three swimmers stand on the opposite end of the swimming pool, all in various stages of undress.
there’s wooyoung, who looks like he’s not so much as dried himself with a towel, still dressed in his team swimwear. and yunho, who’s got a towel wrapped around his waist messily, hair damp against his forehead and likely smelling of the cheap shampoo provided in the locker-room showers. lastly, seonghwa, who’s seemingly fully dressed spar for one of those irritating long coats san always sees him trailing around campus in.
one look into your panicked eyes is enough for san to spring into action, fumbling to sit himself up and pull your body flush against his, facing your naked back in the direction of his rivals.
he bites back a groan as you shift in his lap, unknowingly- or maybe you do know- pressing your soaked centre against his erection, which already strains inside the confines of the nylon material, leaving very little to the imagination.
“do you mind?” he’s glad the words come out clearly, booming across the pool at them and their unwavering staring.
“not at all.”
san holds you tighter against him, eyeing at your discarded swimsuit on the floor as he listens to a shuffle of footsteps. assuming the three men have made their way back into the locker-room, he’s speechless when he looks up to find them approaching the bench, seonghwa leading the trio with a secure grip on the back of wooyoung’s neck, whose eyes can’t seem to leave the floor, while yunho trails a little behind them, one hand grasping onto the towel around him.
“get your hands off her!” he leans back, pulling you with him, in an attempt to stray out of seonghwa’s reach as he extends his hand out. he fails, however, and the tips of seonghwa’s elongated fingers brush over your shoulder.
a shiver runs down you, one that san feels, the unexpected touch tickling your nerves.
“she’s a grown up,” the eldest of the men muses as he builds a rhythm out of how his fingers soother over your sweat slicked skin. “who i’m sure can speak for herself if she wants my hands off her.”
out of all the men, seonghwa has always been the one san despised most. between the constant boasting of wealth- money he acquired through labor, though not the working kind- and the disrespect he’s never had a problem showing towards others, he never fails to strike a nerve, awakening a dark part of san’s brain that activates his fight or flight response. by far, however, his arrogance is the worst, that sense of entitlement that drives him to think everything and everyone is a piece of clay for him to mold and manipulate till they fit his ideal shape.
the rich boy’s hand smoothes over your naked shoulder and san can’t resist glaring up at him.
“c’mon san, now’s hardly the time to be modest,” behind the oldest swimmer, yunho and wooyoung seem to be battling an inner conflict, yunho fighting to keep his towel in place and wooyoung fighting to keep the shame off his face while his dick visibly strains against the confines of his chlorine-covered swimwear. “not after the show you two just put on.”
“we didn’t,” it’s the first time you manage to speak since covering san’s tongue in your cum, breathing at last steady and face hidden from everyone’s view, much to san’s despair. “know you were watching.”
“and, if you had known, would you have stopped?” yunho is the one asking the question and, suddenly, san’s so much more aware of what exactly he’s hiding underneath his towel.
you give no answer.
“of course she wouldn’t,” seonghwa answers for you, hand moving to grasp the back of your neck. with no warning, he grips a little too tight for comfort and and yanks you backwards, till you’re staring right into san’s eyes and the only thing keeping you perched in his lap is seonghwa’s body pressed flat against yours. “there’s nothing a whore loves more than an audience, right?”
if put on trial in a court of law and sworn to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, over whether or not you’d just clenched around nothing at park seonghwa’s degrading name, you’d plead that you never did such a thing.
you’d be found guilty.
“poor woo nearly came untouched just watching you two. isn’t that right?” the eldest turns to stare back at where you imagine wooyoung to be. “pretty boy nearly whined just at the thought of being in san’s position, a mouth full of cunt and someone using him like the fuck-toy he is.”
the air grows thick, between you, and san, and every other living being in the room. it feels like the walls are closing in on themselves with every second that passes, the sweat dripping down your back and coming to a rest between your arse cheeks evidence that the space is heating up. or maybe it’s just your body, hardly processing the high it’s just come down from and there’s already another source for a new-found arousal, a source in the shape of three muscular men stood behind you and one beneath you, eyes wary as he gazes into your own, like he wants to ask if you’re okay but all the blood is too busy circulating in his crotch for his brain to be productive.
“now, i hardly think it’s very nice of you to get our wooyoung all riled up and not even offer to help him out.” you decide you’re being lulled into a false sense of safety the second you feel the pressure of seonghwa’s hand leave your skin. behind you, there’s a shuffling of footsteps that call you to crane your neck and catch a glimpse of what exactly is going on but san’s eyes beg you to keep staring into his, to count the galaxies that dance within them while he grips at your waist. “so the chance to offer is off the table and you’re simply going to do as told. doesn’t that sound easier, hmm? no having to make pesky decisions, just spread those legs and follow orders.”
at last, you get your first glimpse at jung wooyoung.
he sits down on the bench, no more than a breath of space between where you and san are perched. he’s a vision in himself, shoulders hunched and embarrassed face the same shade of red as the tip of his cock, an angry looking bulbous head poking out the top of far-too-tight speedos.
san’s grip tightens the longer you stare at the other boy, gaze dancing over the shape of his body and mouth-watering as, for the first time, you see the appeal of jung wooyoung. never before have you understood why eyes follow him in the hallways, like he’s more than just another pretty boy on campus- something that’s in abundance. but you see it now, understand the appeal of his stand-out nose; and the veins that run down his arms; and floppy style to his hair, that seems to be calling out to have your fingers running through it.
with no prior warning, the grip on your hips tightens even more, till san is digging crescents into the soft skin and he’s lifting you, off of his lap and right into wooyoung’s.
the usually boisterous boy’s eyes meet yours, no longer filled with that spark of defiance and, instead, glazed over in tears, a quiet pleading being exchanged between you.
only, you’re unsure what he’s begging of you.
“are you going to just sit there,” seonghwa speaks up, boredom in his tone that has you picturing him rolling his eyes and picking at his manicured nails. “or are you going to help the poor pup cum?”
“what?!” that certainly helps you find your voice, and the guts to turn around and look at the man.
you find him stood closer than you imagined, with tailored trousers hugging his thighs and a perfectly ironed shirt tucked into them, the last few messy buttons the only indication he’d rushed to dress himself. eyes looking past him, you find more of a friendly aura in yunho, who, despite fighting a battle against the towel wrapped around his figure, manages to shoot a smile at you.
and then there’s san, who stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and a painfully obvious boner resting in the confines of his swimwear, though he’s done a better job at keeping himself concealed than the boy beneath you. his face appears indifferent, yet the twitch in his eye speaks of a tamed anger, a frustration he’s yet to unleash on the men who’d interrupted him amidst his feast.
“are you now deaf along with being dumb or something?” the eldest pulls your attention back to him with little effort, a smirk meeting the glare you shoot his way. “you made that brat hard, now do your job and fix the mess you’ve made.”
words of protest get lost in a surprised gasp as the boy in question takes your hand in his, veiny hand guiding you down to a veiny shaft. wooyoung wraps both of your fingers over his leaking cock, his holding yours in place around him while he ruts his hips up once, twice into your hold, the action sending his swimwear even further down the his length and exposing nearly the full sight of it to the swimming hall.
you don’t mean to compare, yet you’re incapable of ignoring the fact that while wooyoung may be on the slightly shorter side compared to san, he’s certainly leading in the thickness department, with a mushroomed head and the prettiest trail of trimmed hairs leading down his pelvis.
he guides you over his shaft a number of times, a little less shy now as he outwardly whines when your thumb runs over his tip, wiping away the fat bead of precum resting upon it. at some point, he moves his hand away, needing both of his free to lean back on the bench, yet yours keeps moving at it’s own volition, stroking him in a pattern of threes, interrupting every trio with a swipe over his tip or a fondle of his still-concealed balls.
“please,” the whine in his voice is so unlike the jung wooyoung you’ve watched week after week, hurling abuse and echoing boasts of his own talents while keeping himself afloat in the swimming pool.
“he asked nicely.” you’d just about forgotten about everyone else in the room, until seonghwa’s irritatingly unbothered voice serves to remind you of his presence. “rule number one: good behaviour is rewarded.”
“what do i,” you interrupt your own question to glance over wooyoung once more. “do?” you pinch your thigh, skin stinging as nails bite it, and confirm with yourself that this is not a dream but, in fact, very much real.
jung wooyoung is hard and begging you to do something.
“i don’t care how you do it, just put one of your holes to good use for once and make him cum.”
there’s still an echo of seonghwa’s voice by the time you successfully manage to rid wooyoung of his swimwear, the damp fabric clinging to the warm skin and the taut muscles of his thighs. the boy isn’t much help either, seemingly reduced to nothing but a writhing, panting mess instead of someone competent enough to raise himself off the bench just enough for you to undress him.
the sight is mesmerising, one you’re certain will remain ingrained in your memory till the day you die: wooyoung, disheveled and untouched, with his achingly hard cock pressed flat against his lower stomach, his swimmer-thighs spread with a set of balls between them that you find yourself near salivating over as a trickle of his own precum runs down them.
“your cock’s...” you begin to speak, yet trail off as your digits wrap themselves around his shaft, just to delight in the way his breath jumps when you drag your hand upwards and give a soft squeeze as you reach the head. “so pretty, woo.”
“youngie.” seonghwa cuts in from behind you. “he prefers to be called youngie when he’s getting his cock teased.”
“yeah, youngie?” you try it out.
instantly, he nods and something akin to a whimper flies out of him.
fascinated by his shaky breaths and his pretty chest, where warm, tanned skin appears to be near glowing under the swimming halls bright lights as his cheeks flush a palette full of reds and pinks, your eyes are completely fixed on him. there’s something vulnerable and breakable about the way he’s looking at your with the widest of eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip receiving countless abuse from his teeth.
never have you been so desperate to push someone past their own limits.
officially running on nothing but pure instincts, you close your mind off to thoughts, like how the boy you’d spent weeks avoiding and missing is stood only metres away, witnessing the way the tip of your finger teases over the slit of his sport rival’s cock. or like how park seonghwa, perhaps the campus’ most infamous trust-fund baby, seems to have complete control of the situation at hand, yourself and jung wooyoung nothing but idolised dolls he’s moving into whatever obscene position he wants you in.
instead, you focus on how wooyoung’s eyes roll back and he lets out a gasp when you gather up fluids from within your salivating mouth and part your own lips, watching how your own spit drips onto his lower stomach, and your hand, and his painfully hard cock.
the saliva serves not only as a visual pleasure, something that’s awakening inside of you at the sight of it leaving you with whole new kind of excitement bubbling along your body, but as a physical pleasure for wooyoung, who seems to have no protest to how much easier it is to slide your hand up his length with the added lubrication of your own spit.
“fuck...” he curses under his breath and his hands find purchase on your body, one gripping your hip while the other grabs at your forehand, like he’s scared you’ll release the grip you have on him and strip away the sweet release of friction. “don’t just focus on the tip- shit, ah- play with my balls too.”
“wooyoung!” ready to oblige, ready to give the pretty faced boy anything he demanded of you, you’ve no time to think of a reply before the ringmaster of this circus reminds you of his overlooking presence behind your back. “stop speaking like an ungrateful brat and take what you’re given. or else... well, i’m sure you don’t need reminding of what happens to pups that misbehave.”
the way jung wooyoung’s whole body grows rigid beneath you, paired with the countless times park seonghwa has butted in to speak on the boy’s sexual preferences, leaves you with the sense that the two are not only acquainted with how each other’s bodies move underwater..
“s-sorry,” this is not the voice of boastful jung wooyoung, who near bounces down the college halls and airdrops nudes in class because he’s bored. this is a voice that’s soft and meek. like a beady-eyed puppy, so quick to submit to it’s owner. “just feels too good. i’m sorry”
“yeah, you will be sorry.” seonghwa’s hand is cold against your back and it lulls a shiver out of you as fingers trickle down your spine like water off a duck’s wings. part of you hates him for stealing wooyoung’s attention off of you just as you were beginning to revel in it, a larger part of you wants to know why the sternness in his voice is enough to have your clit aching to be touched. “spitfire, be a good cocksleave and sit on his dick.”
“ok, stop!” a sense of shame comes over you when it takes hearing san’s outburst to remember the fact he’s watching the scene unfold. “don’t you think you’re taking this too far now, park seonghwa? i know you and wooyoung have your... agreement on how you treat each other, but don’t drag someone else into it. not when she never even asked for this.”
“you had your tongue tasting the eighth wonder of the world on that bench twenty minutes ago, both of you knowing there was a chance you’d be caught, and you want to tell me no one was asking for this?”
“that was private! you guys are the ones who-”
“there’s no such thing as privacy in a public area. besides, it’s hardly like she’s not enjoying this. if anything, i think spitfire doesn’t like the way you’re getting in the way of her teaching youngie a lesson in obedience.” you’re naive to think no one would notice the way you’ve began to grind down on wooyoung’s cock, stealing whimpers out of him as the soaked lips of your pussy rubbed up against him and holding back your own moans each time his tip meets the bundle of nerves that make up your clit. “choi, if you’re that much of a pissy pants that can’t enjoy himself even just this once in life, then feel free to leave. i’m sure the four of us will be too occupied to notice your absence.”
you’re not paying close enough attention to figure out if san’s newfound silence is due to his departure, or if he’s simply too stunned to speak, your eyes focused on nothing and no one but the boy at your mercy.
the initial burn of wooyoung breaching your entry reminds you of how long it’s been since you’d been stretched open by something other than someone’s cold fingers or wagging tongue. it’s been more or less three long months of juggling test after test, assignments piling up on your desktop and a relationship with your now ex-boyfriend being tossed completely into the gutter.
not once had you thought your return to the world of sexual bliss would be in front of an audience, much less at the very place you work.
doubting that it’s been as long for him as it has for you, wooyoung still spares nothing when it comes to reacting to your touch. with eyes squeezing shut, head rolling back, abdomen muscles flexing along side every shaken intake of breath, the boy puts on a show so pornographic it puts the professionals to shame. a whine exits his lips, lips that carry marks of his own teeth and look like they’re in need of a healthy dose of chapstick, and look so disgustingly kissable that your own tingle at the thought.
all those rumours of jung wooyoung being a camboy rush to the forefront of your mind, feeling truer than ever when your eyes take in the bob of his adam’s apple, and the perfectly timed run of his tongue over his lower lip, and the pretty way in which the prominent veins in his hands looks as he clamps his grip down on your hips.
he’s a sight worth paying for.
“are you okay?” not the first thing you’d imagined saying after sinking all the way down on his cock, the need to check up on him taking over before you’d even noticed it’s existence.
“yeah...” he sighs his way through the word, eyes still closed and grip still very much tight on your skin, blunt fingertips likely leaving crescent moons you’ll find yourself staring at for days to come, memories of this moment replaying in a rose-tinted haze. “just need a second, you- you feel good, fuck me.”
“i’m kinda already doing that, youngie.” you giggle, like a lovesick adolescent speaking to their crush of the week, but the boy’s instant smile upon hearing it puts out the fire of shame building in the pit of your stomach.
“hmm,” he hums back, acknowledging your words without giving you the satisfaction of hearing him tell you how you’re correct. “are you okay?”
wooyoung flips the question on you and it parallels with the way he pulls the rains in physically, lithe hips thrusting upwards in search of feeling more, reaching deeper inside of you. in the back of your mind you already picture a look of displeasure on park seonghwa’s face, scowling lips loading up to berate you and demand you take repossession of jung wooyoung’s sanity.
“yeah, i’m-” with the eldest man in mind, you stop and compose yourself, as well as you can while wooyoung’s mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, the tops of your breasts. “i’m wondering who told you you were allowed to touch me?”
control is easily regained, all it takes is your hand squeezing around jung wooyoung’s throat and your soaked walls clenching around his aching cock and he’s melting like ice cream on a warm summer’s day, leaving behind a sticky mess.
satisfaction and pleasure come crashing in tandem, wave after wave moving in motion with each lethargic roll of your body against the swimmer’s, who seems to be a quicker learner than you’d believed him to be, hands flying off your body like it was made up of hot stones and, instead, now holding a firm and grounding grip of the bench beneath you both.
“harder.” you feel a hint of emotion within park seonghwa’s voice this time he speaks. it’s fleeting, and hard to make out quite what feeling it is he’s experiencing, but it’s there and it’s certainly a step up from the usual shameless, egotistical, megalomaniac tone he takes on. “squeeze his throat tighter.”
under the possession of his commanding tone, you find yourself caving into his command, fingers pressing a little harder into wooyoung’s warm skin. the boy gulps down whatever pride he has and delivers a pleasured whine. you grind down harder and an evil, twisted part of you you’ve never met before longs to laugh at the way he so desperately is struggling to keep his composure, fighting back the urge to meet your hips with his own upward thrusts.
so, you do.
“hear that, youngie?” seonghwa’s voice becomes less grating each time you hear it, once an unwelcome and intrusive thought but now a second voice and a valued player in a game of wreck the wooyoung. “you’re being laughed at. isn’t that just pathetic?”
“y-yes, fuck-” he falls victim to your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock in a vice grip. the image of confidence withers away so easily to reveal a teary-eyed, pretty-faced, cum-desperate man. “i’m pathetic.”
“yeah, you are.” seonghwa circles his way around the rocking bench, no longer out of view hidden behind your back but, instead, staring you down with piercing eyes that cut through you like a knife to hot butter. “he’s getting close. never lasts long, really, even seen him cum untouched just from giving me head. but that’s okay, isn’t it youngie? you’re a slut for having your sack drained, huh?”
the swimmer beneath you has never looked redder than he does right now, secrets of his sexual nature getting exposed to the people he likely considers his biggest athletic competition. though you probably should, you don’t push him away when his face finds safety in the crook of your neck, parted lips covering your burning skin in sticky drool.
“don’t let him fool you guys, he’s into the degrading nature of it all. trust me.” you wonder if it should concern you the way seonghwa speaks about jung wooyoung as though he’s nothing but a pet, a possession of which he just so happens to have complete control over. you’re more concerned with the fact it excites you. “call him a good boy, i dare you.”
the words haven’t even formed in your throat and the boy between your thighs is gripping onto your waist a little tighter, lips near pouting and eyes screwed shut in uncontrollable pleasure, burning down his spine and threatening to push him over the edge of sexual bliss.
you consider having mercy, the inexperienced side of you thinking the boy looks like he’s full of shame and embarrassment. the throbbing of his rock hard cock repeatedly stuffing your aching cunt reminds you he’s getting off on the humiliation.
“is he a good boy, though?” you stare up at park seonghwa, not even sparing a whimpering wooyoung any attention as he begins a rambled protest to defend his good behaviour. “i mean, i don’t remember telling him he could touch me. do you, hwa?”
the hands that grip you tightly let go quick, like your skin were an unexpectedly warm stove, scorching his skin right off him.
“i don’t remember either,” the eldest’s agreement has you reeling in a way you never expected, filling you with a new found sense of control.
a control that is ripped away far too quickly, like park seonghwa sensed you growing falsely confident over the situation at hand.
like a shark circling it’s prey, the tall man makes his way back around the bench, each fall of his shoe-covered feet echoing in the quiet swim hall. click, click, click, and he’s right at your back, not a word uttered as the soft of his palm lands on the nape of your neck. achingly slow does it travel down the expanse of your back, not a single noise filling the space other than the rise and fall of your body on top of wooyoung’s and the same boy’s poorly contained moans and mewls of pleasure.
the silence is interrupted by your own shocked gasp, mouth falling agape in shock as your movements come to a complete halt. his hands, no longer soft and delicate, grip you in an iron-tight hold, fingers greedy as they dig into your meaty flesh with no mercy or regard for the pain it may inflict on you.
“no, get up,” like a switch was flipped in as little as a minute, park seonghwa’s voice has lost all sense of the excitement it had whilst he spoke on jung wooyoung’s dirty endeavours and has returned back to the cold, callous, commanding tone it had originally.
he sounds angry, feels angry in the way the fingers of his free hand tangle themselves in the hair at the back of your head and give a harsh tug, forcing your head back till you’re met with his scowling face and perfectly groomed hair, even in it’s dampened state it seems to frame his face perfectly.
“what?” you babble out, dumbstruck, much like the desperate boy beneath you who’s began to mutter apology after apology between pleadings of please no don’t do this and i promise i’ll behave, i’ll keep my hands to myself.
none of it works.
“you heard me. get. up.” the fingers on your waist tug, pull, drag you away from the quivering mess that has become of jung wooyoung, who near sobs as the cool air hits his now painfully hard cock, tip redder than the bottom of your favourite heels and a vein more prominent under his sensitive skin than the ones on his muscular arms. you’re not given much of a chance to process what’s happening before seonghwa speaks again. “wooyoung, up, now. you’re not getting to cum, so get off the bench and make room for someone else.”
the boy makes no further attempt to protest, cheeks painted pink in shame and chest shining with sweat as he shakily rises to his feet, head hung low when you watch him walk out of your line of sight.
then, your knees meet the floor.
park seonghwa chuckles as you go down, hands finding grip in your hair and forcing you to sit up right. heart beating faster, your mind begins to race with questions of what comes next, who comes next.
what dirty desires are about to be unveiled within you, forced into the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the swimming hall?
“jeong, you’re up,” seonghwa’s knee digs into your back and his fingers tug until your scalp begins to sting a little. you don’t want to like it but, in life, you don’t always get what you want.
there’s a series of shuffles behind you, followed by heavy footsteps. there’s no rush, yet no hesitation, just calm and collected footsteps of someone making their way over to do god knows what with you.
when jeong yunho, with his towel that’s looking a lot tighter around his crotch still around his waist, steps into frame, an inexplicable sense of comfort washes over you.
maybe it’s the way he smiles down at you, or the fact his hands brush seonghwa’s off of you, or the way his fingers take a hold of your chin once he’s seated in front of you.
maybe it’s just the fact he’s jeong yunho, campus himbo with a reputation for walking girls home at night just to make sure they’re safe and for singing britney spears with no shame each time the karaoke mic gets passed around.
whatever it is, it’s turning you on.
your knees are burning with fresh pain as park seonghwa shoves you closer to the mammoth of a man and you can’t help but swallow down the ball of anxiety growing in your throat.
everything about jeong yunho’s demeanour has always seemed large, with powerful arms that drag his body through the weight of water and large hands that effortlessly carry countless textbooks through the university halls; a tall frame that helps him stand out in any crowd and a personality loud enough to set off alarms; his thighs a muscular stairway leading up to a well rounded, remarkably defined posterior. it’s safe to say he’s carried a reputation for some time, one that consists of whispers between girls on campus who recount just how well endowed he really is. 7 inches, 9 inches, 12 inches, you’ve heard it all, each girl claiming it to be bigger than the last.
unfortunately, there’s no ruler at your disposal to uncover the truth of the rumours, but you confirm he’s certainly large as you watch him undo the towel. larger than you’ve ever seen before, with a thickness to match, and two heavy looking balls decorating the base.
he wraps a hand around it and you watch how he gives a light squeeze at the head, slowly sliding down the length of it till he reaches the tuft of groomed hairs on his pelvic bone. one of his hands alone holds half of his cock, leaving you almost certain you’d need to use both hands on him.
“d’you want it, sweetheart?” his words are teasing but his voice is soft, a complete one-eighty to the verbal berating you’ve been receiving- and enjoying- from park seonghwa.
you’re sure he notices the way you clench your thighs as he slaps his cock once, then twice against his stomach, the precum leaking out on to his tanned skinned.
there’s an itch inside your throat, one you imagine only he can scratch.
“you wanna taste it?” he’s still speaking to you through the arousal that fogs over your brain, commanding your tongue to swipe over your bottom lip as you burn your gaze at the glistening liquid on his warm skin, tastebuds aching to have him paint them in white.
you nod your head.
his own throws itself back, a chuckle rupturing out of his chest as he continues to tease himself with his hand.
“fuck, yeah, bet you can’t wait to taste my cock, feel it stab the back of your tight throat.” a smile should never look so sweet while it’s part of the same mouth spewing out such filth. somehow, jeong yunho makes it work. “gonna get it nice and wet for me, yeah? make it sloppy, i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock.”
the knee that’s suddenly digging it’s way into your back has no mercy. you wince, pull in a sharp breath and inch just that little bit closer to the bench. like a glove fits a hand, you slip right in between the muscled tree trunks that make up jeong yunho’s thighs.
you wonder, if only momentarily, what sweet a death it would be to be crushed between them, taut muscles constricting the flow of air to your lungs like a boa with its prey.
but there’s a far more preferable way to be choked by the man before you, body carved out in such definition you fear michael angelo himself stands in admiration of it.
his hand snakes its way around your body, warm and heavy and imposing with the grip it settles for at the base of your neck. in spite of the sharp stab coming from behind- where you have no doubt one park seonghwa stands with disgruntled impatience written all over his irritatingly perfect face- there is no doubt in your mind that the man in front of you holds the reigns. with eyes of honey and lips of velvet, he peers down at you with a tendered expression, saying nothing yet everything with the gentle, repeated sooth of his thumb over your skin.
you need no verbal instructions this time around.
a hand grips the base of him as the other squeezes the flesh of your own thigh, piercing your skin with just enough pressure to assure you this is the reality you find yourself in, rather than some twisted, substance influenced dream.
the first taste is the sweetest, tongue a missionary sent into the foreign land of his body to discover the way he reacts as you drag it over the tip. he gives nothing but a squeeze to the back of your neck; and that crumbles you under his control.
with a few more kitten licks- for good luck, if anything,- the show begins with the parting of your lips, the widening of your mouth, the burning of your skin as you struggle with your ability to swallow him whole. you make it no further than a third of his length before he’s tugging gently on your roots and bringing you back to the surface of existence.
“breathe, okay,” his voice is gentle, calming your nerves yet sending your heart into a fit of patternless beats. “inhale, exhale, got it? through the nose, that’s gonna help you relax.”
doing as he says, you swallow three whole breaths. shaky, ragged, each feeling hollow in your chest in comparison to the weight of his cock on your tongue.
“pretty girl,” he practically coos, hand cupping your chin as his thumb smoothes over the swell of your bottom lip. it’s tender, sweet, and almost enough to make you forget the sight of his engorged cock that sits angrily between his tree-trunk shaped thighs, crying out for the return of your mouth’s affection. “someone’s gotta teach you to not be greedy, hmm? small little mouth of yours is no fit for me, don’t go choking on it.”
heat flashes between your thighs, your heartbeat dropping right down to your clit and leaving you with a burning ache, the kind only a gentleman like this could soothe. your fingers may have to do, however, if the stubborn arsehole behind you would be so kind as to let you enjoy yourself.
the way park seonghwa curls his hand round the front of your neck and flexes his nimble fingers- that goddamn family heirloom ring a punishing cold to your warm skin, near brandishing you as touched by some nepotism child- when you do so little as clench your thighs together to relieve the pressure, or lack-there-of, between your thighs tells you he’ll grant you no such fun.
“you’d need to have something big enough for her to choke on,” san, precious san. still here, still somewhere beneath this god-forsaken tin-can roof swimming pool, watching you bruise your knees and your ego for another man, another one of his team-mates. what must he think of you? has he lost whatever respect he may have had? does he think he’d been just another body to exchange fluids with, that night at the party? if you could just see his face, you’d not need to wonder all these things. his eyes, they always give him away, too earnest and pure for his own good.
“shut it, choi,” yunho’s bark isn’t half as loud as seonghwa’s booming commands have been, and are nowhere near as malignant. if anything, the gentle giant is humoured by his team-mate’s words, as if he knows they’re a preposterous thing to say about him. then again, you can’t imagine any man remaining humble about themselves if they were so well-endowed. “or do you wanna crack out the measuring tape again and remind yourself of just how much of me there is to choke on?”
silence.
it takes a few moments for the spotlight to return to you, a gradual shift from playful to lust driven energy encapsulating the broad frame of the man before. he cups your cheek, feather-light touch smoothing over your skin while his eyes burrow daggers into your soul.
why must his shoulders be so wide? it almost angers you as much as it sends a wave of heat between your legs.
almost, but not quite.
“‘s cute,” he half mumbles, distracted by the sight you paint below him on your knees, bruises already forming and thighs clenching for some relief of pressure. “your little pussy’s all wet just from having my cock in your mouth.”
“i think you’re forgetting she was bouncing on woo’s dick a few minutes ago, yunho,” the devil on your shoulder won’t let you rest, hand snaking through the threads of your hair and tugging on your roots. not enough to hurt, just enough to sting. “have some modesty.”
“sure, let’s act like i’m not the one who had her cumming all over my face a while ago.” san mumbles a string of words you wish you could unhear, face heating up as the shame burns through your bloodstream.
how had you gotten here?
you’re allowed no such freedom to ponder over previous actions as jeong yunho’s all encompassing frame works to remind you of where you find yourself: on your knees dressed in nothing but your own shame- shame which seems to slip off of you, piece by piece, baring you shamelessly to this pack of wolf-eyed boys’ for their eyes to feast upon.
strong, veiny hands reach out and drag you forwards, just an inch yet it’s all you need to feel the weight of park seonghwa’s domineering figure float off of you, rendering you under the control of this much larger, far smilier looking man. “eyes on me, okay? don’t wanna miss the way i’m about to make them roll back.”
there begins a game of push and pull, where jeong yunho pushes you closer and closer to his evident arousal, all the while teasing you as he pulls his hips back, keeping your waiting mouth open and empty, and oh-so frustrated at the feeling of being so close yet so far away from his dripping tip.
the first real taste you get of him does, in fact, nearly have your eyes rolling back. a kitten lick, barely there yet fully felt, running over the underside of his cock, a taste of salted skin, and musky sweat, and stale chlorine mixing in with the warmth of him flooding your senses. his reaction is no more composed than yours, blatantly parting his lips in a gasp and bucking his hips up, forwards, any direction they need follow to chase after your mouth.
happy to comply, you take pride in tasting him a second time, this time right over the growing drop of pre-cum pebbling on his tip. white flashes behind your closing eyes as his grip in your hair tightens, a pulse of heat firing straight down your spine as your mind floods with images of what it must be like to watch this man, this gentleman, this figure that so wholly encompasses what it means to be a himbo in this day and age lose his cool and revolt into his most carnal, basal instincts to take whatever pleasure he needs from you with a reckless abandon, burrow his throbbing cock down your throat till the beat of his heart takes over your own.
instead, you settle for wrapping your lips around him, at last, and letting him guide you just that little bit down his length. the weight of him feels nice, a strange sense of comfort birthing in your bones as you grow used to feel of him taking up your palate. his breaths seem to run in tandem with the inches he sinks deep between your parted lips.
a deep breath, he lowers you further, till your left cheek begins to bulge out.
tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth, you make use of it as best you can, rolling it over the bottom of his shaft and earning yourself a plethora of gratifying sounds, each deep and desperate and crooning straight out of jeong yunho’s broad chest.
another deep breath, another inch.
for all the false dominance you wield over the situation, with the heat of your mouth and spill of your own saliva slickening his cock, his real and visceral dominance doubles it by tenfold, with a hand on the back of your neck, guiding your every move, and a knowing, gentle look cast downwards at you from where he sits propped on the bench, thighs a heavy mass to case your body between. a silly little voice in your head whispers a seductive tale of how easily this man could get you in a headlock and suffocate your fragile windpipes. a wave of heat, this one going right down to your core and forcing you to pay attention to it, shifting awkwardly and clenching the muscles in your own legs in hopes of getting some pitiful amount of pressure.
all breathing stops as he hits the back of your throat.
hands pulling tight, a biting pain ripping through your hair and a tired gag creeping out of your constricting throat, yunho holds you still and strong, as unmoving as the mountains that fill the horizon from your bedroom window.
he’s not even fully in, an arguably obscene amount of him still awaiting some form of attention beyond the spill of the spit filling up your mouth. but there’s nowhere for it to go, not within your mouth at least, and so you manoeuvre your hand up and grip the neglected inches, the tip of your pinkie teasingly brushing over the swell of his balls.
he lurches forward, gasping in a breath of air at last. “fucking christ- shit,” he grits his teeth. “her mouth’s warm.”
“well, obviously. this your first time getting a blowjob or something, jeong?” god, the reminder of seonghwa being here, somewhere behind you, fox eyes judging your every move and keeping his cool, no matter how hard you’d seen his cock straining in those ridiculous pant-suit trousers he sports. it’s sickening.
“yeah, yunho, watch out before you have a repeat of 2019.”
if the taller jeong wants to snap at the other, you never find out, instead dedicating yourself to the glory of worshipping him between your parted lips and tight throat, jaw ready to lock itself in place so long as it keeps him inside.
you treat him differently than you’d treated san that night. you’d been tipsy then, buzzing off the colourful shots of who-knows-what you’d been conned into downing a half hours before, mind hazy as you kneeled between him and teased your tongue over every crevice of him it could reach, dripping him in drool and working an ache into your overused tongue by the time you got watched him spill over the edge of ecstasy. that wasn’t even about san’s pleasure, no real care put into getting him off, your own selfish need to indulge in the pleasure of feeling, tasting, worshipping him taking precedence.
but, right now, you’re overwhelmingly sober, mind hazed only by a cloud of inexplicable lust that rolled in the moment san shot you his stupid smile, and you care about making jeong yunho cum. in fact, it’s the only thing on your mind as you bob your head up and down, letting his own hand guide your pace.
“shh, shh,” he’s hushing your own struggles for breath and carding his fingers through the tresses of your hair, his legs clamping down on either side of you, pinning you in your rightful place. “taking it so good, baby. so fucking good.”
good’s not good enough.
you want to leave him mind-blown, exhausted, unhinged. you want him clenching his jaw, and baring his teeth, and stuttering over any praise he tries to give you. in fact, you need it, need that thrill-driven lust of collapsing the sanity of a man as broad and strong and capable as him.
so you pick up the pace, fight against the steady up-and-down of his grip and try to take just that little bit more of him in your mouth and down your throat, till you’ve no doubt there’s a visible bulge of where he sits down your windpipe. you think back on what he said- i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock- and work towards doing just that, mouth a fountain of over-flowing spit that paints lines down your chin and over his heavy balls. the hand at his base lightly drags the tips of its nails over his burning skin and you physically feel the way his cock jumps in your mouth, head twitching as his hips involuntarily jolt forwards.
eyes as wide as a deer in headlights, you glance up to stare into his own, only to find they’re rolling back in his head, too caught up in the headiness of having your mouth on him to visually focus. it’s erotic, tracing your eyes over the protruding vein in his neck and the unrhythmic heaving of his chest- like every breath he pulls is a rare gift and a miracle- and the straining of his muscled thighs that hold back his urge to buck freely into your mouth, use you as nothing but a hole to get himself off with.
your free hand stakes claim over your own sexual frustration, nimble fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your clit in an attempt to just ease that heat burning you from the inside out.
“she’s touching herself, jeong,” not even the irritating, grating voice of park seonghwa’s unwanted commentary can take away the kick you’re getting out of working this man into a frenzy. “are you just going to let her, without your permiss-”
“shut up, park,” yunho is wrecked, voice divulging so far from that loud, boyish charm into a dark, broken sort of gruffed out thing, echoing straight out of his chest. but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen to the other man, doesn’t force his eyes open to glance down in a hazed daze to witness your pathetic attempts to work your fingers over yourself.
only, he doesn’t tell you to stop.
he just... watches. and then smiles, squeezes out what can only be described as a broken whine, and tilts his head back once more, relinquishing all control of his body over to you. the scene divulging into a chorus of mumbled words, fuck and please and yes becoming the only word yunho knows, the only three you hear.
only as he cums does jeong yunho regain that bit of self-control he’s lost, ripping your mouth off him- a stuttered mumble of i wanna paint that pretty face- and erupting in a mess of grunted moans, cock twitching in his palm as rope after rope of white, hot fluid shoots out of it. it’s messy, and disgusting, and sticky, marking the skin on your cheeks, nestling in your hair, dripping over your shut eyelashes.
the last drops land in your parted mouth as his grasp shakes and you regain the right to wrap your lips around his mushroomed tip.
lips stained in pearly white, cheeks and neck matching too. the throb of your neglected cunt, clenching itself around nothing but the mere thought of having jeong yunho stuff you full, break you in two and leave you spent.
the man in question is in a no better state, head thrown back and chest a heaving mess glistening with the shine of his own sweat. his mouth hangs open, near heaving in breaths of air and his hands, adopting a mind of their own, grip harder in your hair and hold you firmly in place, tongue laving over his sensitive tip, pushing him closer and closer to the ledge of overstimulation.
“fuck- uh, fucking look at you,” sweet voice, foul words. two fingers drag over your cheek, coating themselves in the sticky substance he’s painted you in. “drooling all over me.”
he’s right, you are drooling. down your chin, an uncomfortable damp coat covers your overheating skin as you continue to stretch your lips around his length, ready to rip another thigh-shuddering orgasm out of the man.
yunho grants you no such pleasure.
instead, a grip tugs back on your hair and, before you can feebly attempt to catch your fleeing breath, he’s pulling you up into his lap, straddling you across the well-defined muscles of his thigh. those big, capable hands he pushes himself through pools, and rivers, and all other bodies of water manipulate your limbs however he likes, a rag-doll free for him to toy with for as long as he sees fit.
“yun-” you don’t even manage to say his name properly, not when he grinds you down into his lap, smothering his tanned skin in your juices. the friction runs straight for your pulsing clit and you’re rendered to sinking into his welcoming arms, head collapsing into the crook of his neck, parted lips panting up a storm against his sweated skin.
“that nice for you, angel?” the soft words, the rough hands, the perfect roll of your hips. you feel like you could sob, break apart completely. yunho tracing a hand up the curve of your spine and soothing his long fingers over a knot in you back doesn’t help your case. “bet it is. little bit of release to all that tension you’ve been feeling, yeah?”
you think you nod.
it’s hard to tell.
sparks fly within your loins, heating you from the inside out. yunho, at some point, has wound his fist into the tresses of your hair, nails scrapping along your scalp. it’s pleasurable, all over, soothing you into a state of utter relaxation, a being with no purpose other than to take whatever this mass of warmth and muscles and width offers you.
his hand makes a fist and gently tugs, forcing a whine out of you as you’re faced with the bright lights once more. traces of his own cum stain the very place your face had lay. it’s erotic to see, drying up your tongue with a need to lick it clean.
“no, no, focus, right here,” a single finger taps at your cheek, followed by the tilting of your chin that forces you to stare back at the hungry eyes of jeong yunho. “eyes on me. want a front row seat to watching your eyes roll back.”
god, he’s filthy, and delicate, and that just makes him all that more filthy.
swiping his digits through the remnants of his sticky cum, he makes sure you’re staring right back at him as those same fingers snake their way down between your grinding bodies and burrow themselves deep in your soaked heat. shallow pumps of his hand fuck his cum-coated fingers deeper, long and lithe enough he barely needs to move to have you feeling him all over, everywhere.
by the time he curls them, pressing against that spongy wall, you’re just about ready to cry.
“think she’s gonna cum,” oh god, no, why must he remind you of your audience? why does it no longer frighten you to have eyes watching you be defiled but, rather, have you clenching around him tighter, chasing that fever-like ecstasy the man means to deliver? “she’s gripping my fingers so tight- shit, almost makes me wanna bust my load just thinking how warm her pussy would feel round my cock.”
“don’t let her cum,” you vow, some day, to wring the neck of park seonghwa. “just cause she’s gone all cockdrunk doesn’t mean she’s earnt-”
“shut up, hwa,” the boy’s thumb pokes up and you can’t help the way you grind down into it, smothering your clit in whatever pressure you can get. “pretty baby’s more than earned it. stop being bitter that i’m the one who’s gonna give her it.”
give you it, he does.
three fingers deep, the cocktail of your wetness mixing with his cum-cated digits aiding the ebb and flow of his rhythm, jeong yunho has your toes curling, eyes rolling, thighs shaking. you blackout, for only a moment, lost in the wilderness of pleasure.
the aftershocks are barely kicking in when you’re suddenly ripped away from yunho’s hold. the sounds of your beating heart and heaving chest muffle the disgruntled exchange of words between the swim-team, inhibiting your ability to stay clued-in on the events that surround you. all you know is that when your body meets the bench once more, on all wobbly fours, jeong yunho no longer sits tall and proud.
a sharp sting hits your rear- a smack, that echoes in the empty space of the swimming hall. the only appropriate response is the shriek you let out, twisted in your own conflicting emotions of pain, and pleasure, and painful pleasure. a second smack meets the other cheek. this time, there’s no doubt a wanton whine escapes you.
“since the rest of them can’t take orders,” you’d already known it was seonghwa whose hands were suddenly all over you, pinning you in a position of submission. the sound of his grandiose voice sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine, top to tail. “i’ll have to do it myself.”
with no word of warning, he smooths his hands down the globes of your ass, teases the crease of skin where your inner thigh meets your dripping heat, and fucks two whole fingers into your sensitive core. knuckles deep, they sit still upon initial intrusion, basking in the warmth of you and coating themselves in the essence from an orgasm you’ve yet to even fully recover from and the cum yunho’d scooped off your own face.
then, at last, when your nails dig marks into the wood below, he curls them a come-hither motion.
with shame painted on your skin, you toss your head back and release an inhumane cry, eyes hazily gazing up at the horrendous white lights above. “oh god!”
“not quite. i do appreciate the flattery though,” there’s no need to glance over your shoulder to know that pompous, trust-fund baby is wearing the most earth-shattering smirk, some stupid strand of his perfectly groomed hair dangling over one of his eyes, like some 90s heartthrob boy-band member. you do it anyway.
park seonghwa is an unfairly attractive man, sporting a beauty so ethereal it almost makes you angry.
that anger seems to dampen the wetter he gets you.
his touch is slow, but by no means is it gentle. calculated and malevolent, he plays with your insides like they’re nothing but the strings to your puppet. a curl of his fingers and one of your hands shoots forward. the torturously slow pace that he pumps his digits in and out, and your jaw falls slack. his thumb bumps and grinds against your throbbing clit, and your elbows give out, sending you crashing face-first down onto the bench.
his free hand presses down on your lower back, bending you deeper, hiking your ass up higher in the air. and, at first, you think you’re imagining it, that trickle of warmth against your other entrance, believing it nothing but a trick of your melting brain.
you’re who-knows how many hours deep in a whirlwind of pleasure and penetrative stares, people have been driven to the brink of insanity over far less in the past.
but then seonghwa’s fingers leave your cunt, warm and wet trails following their journey over your skin. there’s no imaginative mind great enough in this universe to conjure up that initial shock to feeling how he prods and pokes at your puckered hole, lubricating it with the dirty mixture of both you and yunho’s cum and his very own spit.
the tip of his pointer finger ventures onward first, breaking through the surface of your tight muscles in a shallow intrusion.
the feeling has you frozen, frightened, intrigued. eyes widening, moans dying, pussy pulsating in an empty need.
“don’t go getting shy on us now, spitfire,” the collective language he uses brings back the weight of all the boys’ eyes on you. hesitantly, you angle your face off the bench, and regret it the instant you meet the brown comfort of his eyes. “fun’s just starting. ain’t that right, san?”
a tense energy takes over the large room, with san’s shoulders tensing, and yunho’s feet fidgeting, and wooyoung’s cheeks blushing. seonghwa seems impervious to the shift, whether voluntarily or not, and instead invites himself to further exploring the limits of your body.
he’s kind enough to spare a bit of care into the way his finger sinks deeper into your unexplored hole. another dribble of his hot saliva lands messily onto you, aiding the slip and slide of his hand. two, or three, or four strokes of his finger and you’re submitting to the intrusion, hips rutting higher and presenting yourself more to the man.
“come here,” the command calls over your body and, at first, you think its aimed at you. so you try scooting further back, only to be halted by seonghwa speaking once again. “yeah you, choi. come get under her.”
for the first time since this all began, you’re on the precipice of saying no.
they’d listen, all of them. wouldn’t push you, pressure you or force you to keep going, not if you truly voiced your negation. even park seonghwa, as big an arsehole as he may be, would have no qualms ending his fun and agreeing to never speak of this again.
and it’s not that you don’t want choi san under you. far from it, as you’ve already made pretty clear earlier, thighs his personal ear-warmers while his tongue delved deep for your honey-suckle glory. you’re hardly uncomfortable at the thought of him under you, chest rising repeatedly in frantic breaths and legs bent at the knee to give him just the right leverage to fuck up into your messy cunt-
it’s not till he’s three feet away from you, hands fidgeting by his side, eyes looking anywhere but you and your compromising position, and the world’s most obnoxiously boner-strained tent in his swimming gear that realisation washes over you. you’re hesitating because of him, because of his possible discomfort.
what if he wants to say no? what if he doesn’t want to get under you? what if his eyes will never look into your own again, too shocked and disgusted by all the things you’ve let be done to you? by his own team-mates/rivals, too?
hell, you’ve shocked yourself even, never in a million years had you pictured a day you’d be at the mercy of some rich prick, overdressed for every occasion and looking like a vogue-cover-model reject. but when he’s edging another finger into the already-tight squeeze of your ass, and pushing your buttons just enough to nudge you towards an edge that never seems to arrive, how could you ever dream of being anywhere else?
a hand touches your cheek.
soft. tender. it takes the extra time to soothe the pads of its fingers against your burning cheek.
“you feeling okay?” san’s quiet tone, meant only for you, is enough to move you to near-tears. you crave his hug. the position you find yourself in only allows you to reach out and grasp at where his knee bends as he crouches down to your level. it’s all the same, san knows. san understands. his own hand lands on top of yours, messily threading digits.
“she’s literally stuffed with another man’s cum and you’re worried about her? well aren’t you just the sweetest.” a cheap remark from seonghwa.
san purposefully ignores it, and everything about the man, instead choosing to keep his focus on what matters.
you.
“think you could make some room for me down there?” your nose wrinkles at his choice of words.
his giggle echoes.
“no, no, not... like that,” he guides you as he talks, grip moving to your shoulders and coaxing you up into a seating position. somewhere along the way, seonghwa’s hands leave you. he doesn’t stray too far, however, and your back soon collides against his chest. “here, pretty. want you to make space for me down here.”
within seconds, choi san’s back in his rightful place: splayed out beneath you, body fit snug between your parted legs and hair an unruly, sweated mess against his forehead.
no clothing sits between you both, blessing you with the mouthwatering drag of his cock through your folds. hard, and red, and leaking at the tip, a slight curve to the right, dribbling precum against his well-toned stomach. you’re biting your lip before you fully register your own thoughts, body a mind of its own as you grind down onto him.
control is limited and fleeting, that of which seonghwa reminds you without uttering so much as a word. instead, he clamps a harsh grip down on either side of your hips, rucks you up to where he needs you and guides you down onto san’s cock.
it’s thick, imposing and something that seonghwa blesses you no time to ease into things. instead, you’re slammed down, san buried to the hilt inside of you.
“hey there,” delicate fingers skim up the tense muscles in your thigh and find pleasure in delivering a teasing tickle to your sides. “come here often?”
the cheeky grin, the double entendre, the way san looks so goddamn proud of himself for saying it. you can’t help it, you wind up giggling uncontrollably.
wrong choice. bad idea. danger zone.
san contorts in pain, and lust, and something else you’ve never seen behind his eyes before, hissing through his teeth like some feral cat. his eyes match that of a feline too. “you trying to squeeze my dick off or something?”
you compose yourself upon the reminder of that san can feel you tensing around him, pull in a deep breath and find your voice again, at last. “or... something.”
maybe you’re a little out of breath. maybe you’re a little hoarse. it doesn’t seem to matter to the boy below, his only response being to cant his hips up and lick at the fire burning in your insides.
“you two are disgusting,” once again, park seonghwa wins gold in the nobody-asked-for-you-bum-ass-opinion olympics. let’s see if he’ll continue his winning streak and go for gold in the hypocrite-athon too!
the hands on your sides begin you guide you, with seonghwa squeezing his perfectly manicured nails into your plush skin and bouncing you down onto san. up, down, up and down, repeated strokes like the ones their hands deliver each time they breach the surface.
it’s easy, this pleasure. it’s a gift, hand-delivered by two god-like men that sandwich you between them- one a mass that fills you, the other a weight that controls you. liberating in every sense, you can’t help the way your head rolls back to find purchase on one of seonghwa’s shoulders, completely melting into the ways he winds you over san.
“shit, yes, you feel,” san’s no better than you, mouth agape and hands unsteady as they trace every inch of skin they can reach: the dimples of your back, the swell of your breasts, the hood of your clit. his hips are the only steady thing about him, not a falter in the way they grind up to kiss your dripping pussy with his cock. “so good. so warm, tight. love it.”
a hand curls round your front, travels up between your breast and over your sternum. it settled for a grip a round your throat, no pressure applied, it simply exists against your windpipe, a silent threat.
“look what you do to him, hmm,” a squeeze around your neck. seonghwa’s warm breath fans against your ear, taunting you. “look what you’re doing to them.”
through your glossed-over gaze, you trail your way past the sight of san and all his captivating beauty, settling instead on the equally erotic, not-at-all surprising image that stands just past where his head rests at the edge of the wooden bench.
a sweaty wooyoung, bent at the waist and whining up a storm, while a far more composed yunho pounds his hips into the boy’s arse.
your walls clench and san whimpers, a string of curses and pleads leaving him.
“think you’re finally ready for me?” the devil on your shoulder- at your back, more truly,- smirks into your skin, careless enough to not even feign it being anything but a rhetoric question. ready or not, park seonghwa is going to finally get his own fill of the thrill, his own satisfaction, beyond mere observation and controlling.
the spill of your own wetness slips down your thighs as san continues to fuck himself deep. it doesn’t travel far as seonghwa coats himself in you, wetting his fingers before they slip back inside your ass. a few generous, tempting pumps into your ring of muscles, fingers spreading a little further apart each time, till he decides that’s enough, he’s ready, you’re ready.
the unbuckling of a belt.
an unzipping of trousers.
trousers bunched down muscled thighs.
the first cut may be the deepest, but you highly doubt it’s as deep as seonghwa feels feeding his cock into your arse, stretching you apart to make way for him. a part of you feels like it can’t breathe, impaled on both these men who sit so deep inside you, you fear you’ll feel the ghost of their touch for weeks to come.
but what does it matter, really, when seonghwa pulls you back against him and whispers filth against your ear?
this is all you’re good for. cock-drunk whore. gonna let us cum inside?
and san’s coaxing you down to trail his mouth over your chest, the tongue flicking over your nipple a terrible juxtapose to his crooning words?
taking it so well, baby. so tight, and perfect, and god. ‘s that what baby needs, huh, for me to touch her little clit?
the two men find a rhythm, a synchronised routine to how they pull and push you around. their thrusts ebb and flow, no moment existing where you sit empty. they treat your body like they treat the pool, swimming through your waves of pleasure and effortlessly advancing to the finishing line, the winning stroke. then, san’s hand meets your cheek and your thoughts are dragged underwater, muffling the sounds of everyone else- the shlickt sound that echoes with each inch of cock fucked into you, the high-pitched whimpers of a fucked out wooyoung, the slapping of skin against skin- as he pulls you in for a kiss.
it’s a hungry one, all teeth and tongue and swollen lips. you pull away more breathless than before and fighting back a big dopey grin, toes curling as the swell of one of their cocks hits a nice spot inside you, body too on fire to know just exactly where the new wave of heat is coming from.
“h-how d’you do it, hm?” it’s almost a whisper, something meant only for your ears, yet you hear him loud and clear, voice stuttering off in a mess of whines and moans. “still got that pretty-girl smile, even while getting fucked silly.”
it almost makes you shy, till you remember what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with. you settle for a quick, short answer. mostly because you fear you’re losing the ability to think in full-sentences, much less speak one out loud. “can multitask.”
like your own words are the key to pandora’s box, your eyes widen, and your mouth dries, and your heart reels as a new desire burrows itself somewhere between the parts of you owned by san and the parts owned by seonghwa. the desire makes room for more, for someone more, and, without much chance for second-thoughts or hesitation, you find what little stability you can manage with one hand pressing down onto san’s toned chest and reach forward with your free hand.
fingers, light as a feather, curl around wooyoung’s solid shaft. the man’s hips stutter at the unexpected contact, eyes flying open to glance down in time to watch you reach out your tongue, licking up the droplets of precum that threaten to spill from his mushroomed tip.
“please, god, please!” he’s beyond the point of sense, poor baby, struggling to keep up with yunho’s hips’ repeated slamming into his tight ass. so, you can’t really blame him or shame him for the way he hastily rips his hand through your hair, tugging your mouth as far down his cock as the angle allows.
a few hairs rip from your skull in his grip. you reward him with a pleasant hum, moans muffled with the mouth-full he’s providing you.
“shit- look at that,” seonghwa pipes up from behind you, the motion of his hips never faulting or failing as he continues to take part in the filthiest three-way tango known to man, hands bouncing you down to meet each raise of san’s hips, plundering the other man’s cock deep, deep, deep, till he’s kissing your cervix and you’re seeing stars before your eyes. “should cup youngie’s- fucking christ- his balls, san, cup ‘em.”
you’re vaguely aware of his compliance, hand lifting off whatever part of you it was touching- your nipple, your hip, your jaw, it’s hard to tell when you feel like san’s everywhere, all over you, part of you- to graze the set of well-groomed spheres that threaten to slap your chin each time wooyoung thrusts forward.
barely two seconds, hardly any pressure against them, and the youngest of the four is nearly in tears, wailing and begging over broken whines that it’s too much, can’t take it, don’t stop.
there’s a ringing in your ear. because everything is becoming too much: wooyoung in your mouth, san rutting up into you and seonghwa’s hands clawing and pulling your body back into each of his overpowered thrusts. the boy in front of you is the first to fall apart, twitching in your mouth and, without a warning, choking you on the cum he shoots down your throat. a hand pulls you back, just enough to paint your face in the final drops released from wooyoung.
one of the other men is next, a string of curses and grunts filling the air. there’s a new stickiness between your legs, gooey white staining your skin. it’s all building up, and up, and up, until you topple over and are sent reeling into wave after wave of blinding pressure, toes cramping up and muscles spasming as you shoot off into another astral field, creaming around san and chocking seonghwa’s cock.
you don’t register the release of your hips nor the crash-down of your body. one moment, you’re pressed back against seonghwa, mouth dropped open in a silent scream for merciless pleasure, and the next you’re cradled in san’s warm embrace, a crooning tone to the way he hushes and calms you, unheard i got yous, and did so good for us, babys, and just let me hold yous falling on deaf ears.
for a moment in your own history, time ceases to exist.
there’s no ticking of the large clock on the wall, reminding you of how long ago your shift had ended. there’s no thoughts of your plant friend drying out in the staleness of your room, desperately awaiting you to revive it with some h2o. there’s no consequences awaiting your actions, no shame to be feared and leaving you unable to look any of the four swimmers in the eye ever again.
instead of being crashed against choi san’s body, a mixture of his, yours, and several other people’s bodily fluids serving as the adhesive that keeps you stuck together in your mess, you’re floating in space, not quite alive but not quite dead, just there.
nerves tingling, body aching, mind switched off.
four, or five, or ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by the time you regain focus on your surroundings.
your name, whispered. it’s his voice that pulls you back, sweet and soft and oh so like the san you’re used to, the one that sends teasing winks your way when your eyes happen to meet his in class, and the one who has the prettiest notes you’ve ever seen, a colour-scheme for his every highlight and the cutest of doodles to go along with the topic on the paper.
the one who’s hand is currently brushing through your hair, fingers careful as they catch on the tangles near the split ends.
“hmm,” you swear you want to say his name, say more than that, but there’s an ache in your jaw that hinders you from even attempting, your voice-box likely having taken a beaten in the throws of your pleasured moans.
“you okay there?” he giggles over the end of the sentence, and you feel your slowing heartbeat stutter at the sound.
he feels you nod into the crook of his neck and lets his free hand find perch against your hip, moments before giving it a light squeeze.
he’s warm, and pleasant, and soft.
and moving you both into an up-right position, hands splaying flat against your back and keeping you secure against him, your legs wrapping around his slender waist. you drift off again, between time and space, and come to at the first drop of water that lands on your back.
one drop, two drops, and then a downpour of heat crashing onto both of you.
you can tell from the colour of the pinkish tiles along the communal shower floor that you’re in the women’s changing room, and mentally note to thank him, even if he’s not aware, for bringing you somewhere you won’t have to shamefully stumble out of in the nude, your change of clothes safely tucked away within one of the lockers.
“i’m gonna put you down now, okay?” he speaks so gently that it overwhelms you, answering him only with an affirmative nod of your head.
neither of you speak while he lathers shampoo into your hair, nor when he’s dragging his soap covered hands over the cum that stains your skin, wiping it away and leaving nothing but suds where the liquid once was. he doesn’t speak while covering your eyes with his hands, blocking the sting of the shampoo. you don’t speak when you inch closer, head falling forward to rest against his chest.
when he does eventually speak again, both of your fingertips are wrinkled and bodies are clean, the water of the shower serving as nothing but a way to keep warm.
“you’re, uh, not” the echo of his voice in the empty lockers feels so much more intimate than how his cries sounded by the pool. “doing anything on wednesday, right?”
too lazy to move, you angle your face to stare up at him from his chest and take a moment to just stare, look at the way his hair is sticking to his forehead, at the way his eyes are back to being wide, at the way the marks you’d littered along his neck are becoming more prominent.
“how’d you know?” your question confirms his own, and a tenseness you’d not noticed melts off of his shoulders.
“wednesday is race day. you never work race days.”
it’s such an odd detail to have noticed, and it’s making you question everything you thought you knew about your relationship with san. do acquaintances remember each other’s schedules? do acquaintances bring each other soothing teas when they notice the other developing flu symptoms? do acquaintances waste time pulling faces at each other in lectures they should probably be paying attention to.
“i’m not taking part in the race this time, by choice. my grades are good enough, don’t need to worry about winning some championship to keep my education.” san is speaking unpromptly at this point, rambling in a way you’ve only seen him do when he’s nervous, or excited, or both. “it’s okay if you don’t want to, or you have better things to do or places to be! but, i was just thinking, maybe you’d wanna spend some time with me? there’s this medieval market down on main-street, it’s meant to be really cool, and i just think it would be even cooler to go with you? but, again, you don’t have to. forget it, actually, i’m being stupid and assuming you’re not doing something with your friends or your-”
the kiss you interrupt him with is far more innocent than the one you shared earlier, no hands rushing to touch and tongues desperate to taste, just two sets of lips moving as one.
you pull back and he chases after you, lips landing another peck before you’re grasping his cheek in your hold and forcing him back.
“i think you could have asked me to come help clean your apartment for you and i’d still say yes, just to spend my day with you,” you say, and he smiles as if on instinct, unable to stop it even if he tried.
“really?”
“really.”
“good, cause i already bought us two tickets and i really didn’t wanna have to go alone.” there’s drops of water dancing on his eyelashes, and laziness in his every movement, and you’re both still very much naked, but none of that seems to matter when he gives you another peck, like he’s awakened an addiction and your lips are now his favourite vice. “but, now that you mention it, my apartment could do with some cleaning. and i bet you’d look amazing in a maid outfit.”
a slap echoes in the showers.
“hey! don’t worry, i’ll be wearing a matching one!”
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