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blossom-hwa · 4 months

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memory lane | j.yh

I'm nearly two years late but in my defense I had this written for months already, I was just too lazy to create a graphic for it until now. anyway, this was sparked by the memory lane trip that dr. strange took in multiverse of madness - there are definitely spoilers (check the warnings below) and this story might be confusing if you haven't seen the dr. strange and spiderman movies so keep that in mind!

I made some changes to the plots of both movies, so bear this in mind - y/n instead of mingi (ned's counterpart) is the one with sorcery potential and later joins dr. strange at the sanctum, so y/n is the one who goes universe hopping with america chavez and ends up replaying memories they'd forgotten from when dr. strange erased all memories of spiderman (yunho). this story takes place after they've defeated wanda and returned to the sanctum. this should sum up the biggest changes, hope it helps :)

Pairing: Yunho x gender neutral!reader

Genre: angst (happy ending), Spiderman!au

Warnings: spoilers for the last Dr. Strange and Spiderman movies

Word Count: 5.3k

When you return to the Sanctum, armed with a name and the knowledge of a love you don't remember, you go searching for answers.

Ateez Masterlist

When the dust has cleared at Mount Wungadore and they’ve all made it back to the Sanctum, it takes Strange a few hours to realize that there’s something wrong with his apprentice. Not just the exhaustion, not just the trauma of universe hopping and fighting the most powerful witch in all of the infinite number of universes in existence—that would be normal. This is something different. Something darker.

Something more broken.

“Dr. Strange,” you say later that night when it’s just the two of you, everyone else gone to bed. Flames crackle in the fireplace, glowing weirdly on your face. “Do you remember what happened with Spiderman?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Spiderman?” He knows you were there, remembers that’s how he became aware of your potential for sorcery, but you’ve never really talked about it.

“Yeah.”

He tells you what he remembers. A spell, rips in the universe, a vigilante who wouldn’t let the aberrations die. The mirror dimension, hanging over the Grand Canyon for way too fucking long, and a second spell to right the wrongs of the first.

You take it all in silence, not a single question asked until the end. “Do you remember what the second spell was?”

He looks at you. You don’t look back.

“No.”

“…Okay.”

He ends up leaving first, exhaustion pulling his eyelids down to the point he can barely keep them open as he climbs up the Sanctum’s stairs. He tells you to rest, and you nod, but he’s still not quite certain you heard.

You probably didn’t. Because in the morning when he wakes, you’re gone, only a text left on his phone to give any clue as to where you went.

Gone to visit a friend. I’ll be back. I’m fine.

Please don’t follow me.

. . . . .

Standing in front of the apartment door, an arm raised to knock, you feel like time has been frozen still.

“Memory Lane. Replay your significant memories, now at a discounted price! We remember, so you don’t forget.”

A boy in the spider-suit, face bloodied, eyes broken. A wavering smile on his lips that couldn’t disguise the tears rolling down his face. Hugging you and Mingi with arms so strong but trembling so much you could—you could almost feel them shaking around your shoulders. Eyes zeroing in on the wound on your head, a short gash that left the scar you could never for your life remember where it came from—

He saw it. And asked about it. And heard your babbled reassurances, instinctively steadying you on your bad leg (how did he know? How did he know if you never knew him?) as you and Mingi tried to speak, before saying the words you don’t remember.

“You’re going to forget who I am.”

You swallow hard, trying to reconcile the smiling boy you’d met during your third fight ever with the broken, bloodied man standing before you in that moment. They had the same suit—nearly. Not quite. But they had the same face. The same eyes.

And though you didn’t have a name then, now you do.

“I love you.”

“I love you, Yunho Jeong.”

You loved a boy whose name you don’t know. And he—

He loved you too.

Nausea rolls in your stomach. Your arm has begun to ache from holding it up for so long, but you can’t bring yourself to knock. What if he refuses to hear you? What if he doesn’t want you to remember, doesn’t want you to ask? What if he just isn’t home? You don’t know if you could find the courage to come back again. You can already feel the adrenaline high of the past few days beginning to fade, that initial burst of anger and courage (or was it foolishness? Right now you can’t quite tell) falling away to reveal your confused and broken core.

Your sight blurs, the four numbers marking Spiderman’s door (Yunho’s door, your brain corrects you, and it’s unsettling how easily the name seems to roll off the tongue of your mind though you know you never knew it until the trip down Memory Lane) swimming in your vision. One zero two four. You remember it from the day you walked him back, one of his arms slung around your shoulders, one leg broken and propped up by a cast of your own magic.

The moment had felt—familiar, you remember. Vaguely. At least in the way his tired laughs left his lips, in the way he joked about the villain who had left him in this state, in the way he thanked you as he lay on his bed, the magic cast fizzling out of sight, his reassurance that he’d be healed by morning. It had felt easy, somehow. Like you’d done this before, or something similar.

At the time, you’d brushed it off as Spiderman’s charisma with everybody. The times you interacted with him, watched him fend off villains and help the elderly cross the sidewalk in just two breaths showed you enough. That infectious laugh, the witty barbs, his charming easiness with every person he encountered, villain or no, weren’t special somethings reserved for you, which you reminded yourself in the moments you thought that might be true.

But maybe it was true. That trip down memory lane told you that you knew him even before you did. Knew Spiderman, knew him deeply, knew him well enough to know his name, Yunho Jeong—

Knew him enough that you could kiss him and tell him you loved him, twice, even without the promise of a response.

“Wait. Wait and tell me when you see me again.”

He’d promised. With a nod, and a smile, and words said before that you know from the memory but still don’t remember. He’d said it, sworn it—

“It’s okay. I’m gonna come and find you and—and I’ll explain everything. I’ll make you remember me.” A deep, rattling breath. “And it’ll be like none of this ever happened.”

Yet he never came to find you. For what reason, you don’t know. But you found him. Over and over, you found him—during fights, on trips to the bodega, several times in the Sanctum. And he never said anything.

The ache of a memory that is yours but isn’t thuds dully in your chest. You need to know if it was real. And it if was…

You need to know why he never returned.

Your knuckles rap the door sharply—once, twice, three times. Something clangs and there’s a loud curse in a voice you properly remember, not just know from your trip down memory lane.

Footsteps sound. Something clicks in the door. You have just one moment to prepare yourself before it swings open—

Yunho Jeong’s face stares at you, confused, kind, smiling. If you hadn’t been watching so carefully, you would’ve missed the millisecond of hope and panic that flashed across his eyes that confirms everything you’ve conjectured so far.

You’re not sure how to feel about it.

“Good morning?” He laughs a little, and he’s so good at acting—so damn good, did he take acting classes before? Not that you would’ve known since you only got that one significant memory before you shoved America Chavez on, but you want to grab his shoulders and shake him hard enough to tug those memories loose and plant them back in your own damn head—

“Yunho Jeong.” You take a step forward. “We have a lot to talk about.”

. . . . .

His eyes are guarded when he lets you in the door, but he lets you sit on the couch before he lets loose with a question, more of a statement, of his own. “You know my name.”

You probe his gaze carefully. For once, it flickers as you stare at him, a shard of that steady, easy confidence he’s always had (was there a time he didn’t have it? Were you there when that was the case?) chipped and dropped into somewhere unknown. He doesn’t flinch away, though, not like you originally expected him to.

Maybe it isn’t just paranoia and caution behind those guarded walls, your mind whispers. Maybe there’s a bit of hope, too.

The thought is too much for you to handle, so for all your original bravado you’re the one who looks away first. “I do.”

Spiderman’s—Yunho’s—voice nearly trembles with how carefully he measures his next word. “How?”

You take a deep breath. How do you even start?

“I recently took a…trip, of sorts, with Dr. Strange.” Not really—it was more so just with America, but Spiderman doesn’t know America and you probably shouldn’t be telling anyone about her until Dr. Strange gives the okay. “Went universe hopping. Mostly unintentionally.” Ignoring Spiderman’s—Yunho, Jesus fucking Christ—sharp intake of breath, you continue. “One of them had a curious feature called Memory Lane. For a price, it would replay your most significant memories.” You swallow. “I got a…free trial, of sorts.”

The silence that follows your statement hangs heavily in the air. Never, not once in the time you’ve known him (at least not the second time you knew him, if the first time even existed) did you think Yunho (it’s still strange how not strangely the name flows through your mind) could have let such a tension weigh the conversation—he’s always been so charismatic, so ready to smile and laugh and joke away any heaviness that came. Hell, even when he had a leg snapped into so many pieces only a cast of glowing golden threads was holding it together, he wore a smile on the way back. But in the face of your words, Yunho’s head has fallen, the strong shoulders tensed to snap, his clasped hands trembling underneath his chin…

He looks up, straight at you. His eyes have fragmented and the shards you see in them frightens you—that’s just not a look that belongs on Yunho’s face. He looks ten, twenty, thirty years older than he is (your age, he’d told you with the perfect amount of surprise and warmth on his face the day you’d told him, the first time you’d had more than a few minutes to get to know each other more), with the tortured memories of someone who’s lived through millennia. And, you realize with a pang, there’s a reason for that. Because if you forgot him, if Mingi forgot him, how many others did?

And if you meant so much to him in that life you don’t remember, how much has he had to keep to himself in order to keep you from knowing?

“What did you see?” he asks quietly, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles have turned white. “If it’s okay to tell me, of course.”

Tears bubble in the corners of your eyes. That gentleness, that consideration, feels so warm. So very warm and familiar.

“I was with you. And Mingi. We were hugging.” You swallow. “You looked…beat up, but you still asked about a wound on my head.”

Yunho’s gaze flutters in the direction you knew it’d go, just to the side of your right eyebrow. Your fingers itch to rise, to touch the scarred flesh that’s still there, but you hold your twitching hands still.

“And then you said we were going to forget who you were.”

He goes still at that, still as a statue. It’s funny—there have been a few times where you mused, internally of course, that Yunho’s face—just Spiderman at the time—could have been sculpted by one of the gods, should they exist. A beaming statue of a hero, waiting for thousands to thank and worship him. But now, as he stares at you with no expression on his face, stone still and truly a human statue if there ever was one…

You promise yourself never to make the statue comparison again, because the warm Yunho, the alive Yunho, is the only one you’d ever want to know.

Swallowing hard, you open your mouth. And close it. Not because you don’t know what to say, because you do—it’s just recounting a memory that isn’t yours, basically a scene from a movie, how hard could it be—but because when you try to speak, you can’t. Your voice is gone.

Yunho’s eyes are shiny. A little too shiny. And there’s a little too much hope in them, now, a hope that makes you want to dig yourself into a hole and have someone cover up the dirt behind you. Because—it’s not right, that hope, it’s not right because you know what Yunho wants isn’t what happened.

He speaks first. “You…remember?”

“I—” You dig your fingernails into your palms so hard it hurts. “I don’t.”

His face falls. Crumbles. And this time, unlike all the other times you didn’t understand before when he’d see you and you’d do something—anything—and his face would do something strange for a second before his easy smile came back up—

He doesn’t try to pull it back together.

“I—saw it.” Your mouth moves on autopilot, trying to patch up a situation you’re not sure you can but anything, anything to bring something back to Yunho’s face. Even the terrible hope was better than this. “I saw it—and—I can’t say I remember it, exactly, because I don’t, but it—it felt like it explained things.”

Yunho looks up. Just barely. But he does.

“You—I’m comfortable with you.” Once it’s out in the open, you realize how stupid it sounds, but you barge forward because who the fuck cares anymore. “And I know—I know a lot of people probably say that, but—even at that first fight, it was like…it was like I knew you a little. Somehow. Even though to my knowledge I had never seen you before.” You wince at how that must sound but Yunho doesn’t, his eyes now fixated more firmly on yours. “A lot of things felt…familiar. Just stuff like your laugh. Smile. The way we could banter and talk and I—just—fuck!” Your own vehemence startles you and you slap your palms to your eyes and to your surprise, you find tears meeting your skin.

Damn it, you really hadn’t intended to cry when you came here.

“Y/N?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, scrub at your eyes with the heels of your palms. “I’m sorry,” you say, and wow your voice sounds so much more ragged than you thought it was. “I’m sorry. I—it all sounds stupid. I don’t know how to explain it. I just know that…sometimes, being around you felt like déjà vu. In some weird way.” The lump in your throat seems bent on returning so you swallow hard again. “The memory that I saw. It made some things, like that, make sense. But other things didn’t.”

“…What didn’t?”

It takes everything left in you to meet Yunho’s gaze. The adrenaline rush of yesterday’s fight has finally faded away fully and you think you might collapse soon, but you force your voice to remain steady even as a stray tear makes it cold way down your cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

. . . . .

For a long moment, Yunho doesn’t speak.

“I…was going to tell you,” he finally says. “I was. When you still had your job at the diner, I was going to go in and…tell you everything. Like I’d promised to. I was—” He laughs a little, broken and fragmented. “I was right outside. I could see you. Mingi was at the counter, too.”

There were many days like those. You’re not sure which one this was. “I didn’t see you.”

“No, you didn’t,” Yunho agrees. “But I saw you. And I saw your scar.”

This time, you can’t stop your hand from touching the warped skin on your forehead.

Yunho’s eyes track the movement. “I had a whole speech written out, you know.” That same broken, fragmented laugh from before. “It was on a piece of paper. I was going to read it to you two. But I saw your scar and…you were laughing. You looked so happy. I couldn’t ruin that.” He smiles a little, but it doesn’t reach his eyes at all. “When you knew I was Spiderman, all it did was cause you pain. And harm.”

You open your mouth to refute, but you can’t. Because you don’t remember anything. Not at all.

“Something happened to just about everyone I cared about who knew my secret.” Yunho’s voice drops. “So I thought it would be better if you didn’t know. It would be better if no one knew. Just the way it was after that day.”

“But—Yunho, I—” Words trip over your tongue and for a moment you still can’t speak, not for lack of thought but for too much. “We—you didn’t give us a choice. How did you know we wouldn’t—”

“You were at the battle.” Yunho’s words cut through your own like a knife and you almost flinch. “A battle I caused because I was an idiot. You don’t remember what happened, do you?”

Slowly, you shake your head.

“I went to Dr. Strange with a request. To wipe everyone’s memory of the fact that Yunho Jeong and Spiderman were one and the same. So many shit things had happened to me—and us—because of Mysterio’s stupid fucking video. College admissions, people taking potshots at us across the street…” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “He almost did. But I kept interrupting with exceptions. People I still wanted to remember me. You. Mingi. Aunt Mei. Happy. And that…that messed the spell up.”

You sit silent, quiet as Yunho tells you about the multiverse, about the other villains who knew him but whom he’d never faced—at least not in this world. He tells you about Aunt Mei, how Osborn had found her, how she’d pressed it into him that all of them needed help, not just to be sent back to their respective universes to die, and how he’d decided she was right.

She had been right, Yunho stresses. But she’d paid for it. With her life.

There, Yunho stops talking for a moment. Puts his hands over his face and breathes deeply once, twice. When he finally looks up, his eyes look redder.

“I’m sorry.” You wince as soon as you say the words, how flat they fall in the silence. But the thing is—you knew Mei. Somewhat. You remember her face, her smile, her burned cookies—you remember her, if not necessarily her nephew. She was a good woman, one of the kindest people you’d ever had the luck to meet. “I…remembered her. Somewhat. Probably not as much as I would have…before, but…”

“Yeah,” is all Yunho says. “Yeah.”

He continues. Two Spidermen, two Yunho Jeongs from separate universes. They looked nothing like him and apparently you summoned them with rings stolen from Dr. Strange himself (so maybe some things are best left not remembered, because if Dr. Strange doesn’t remember this you’re not sure you want him to). Back in their own worlds, they’d faced the villains he’d failed to corral here. They worked together and there was a fight at the Statue of Liberty and you and Mingi were tasked with keeping the unbroken spell safe from Norman Osborn and later, Dr. Strange, too.

You failed.

“Osborn freed the spell,” Yunho says, grief and fury etched in every line of his face. “Broke the casing with one of his stupid little toys. And so all these people—villains, friends, I don’t know—from other universes started coming into ours. Dr. Strange couldn’t contain them.”

You’re starting to feel a little faint. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Yunho breathes. “There was only one way to fix it. Everyone had to forget Yunho Jeong.” His eyes bore into yours.

Forget feeling faint. You think you’re about to be sick. “Everyone.”

“Everyone,” he repeats. A little dark laugh falls from his lips. “No exceptions this time.”

For a long moment, you sit in silence. All of this information—your brain was already exhausted from universe hopping and dealing with a crazy, grief-driven witch, and you got maybe three hours of sleep last night before you found your way here—it’s so much. Almost too much. Maybe you should’ve waited to confront Yunho, should’ve given it a couple of days of thinking before coming here all tongue-tied and stupid—

“But—Yunho. You promised to tell us. You promised to tell me and Mingi.” You can feel your face scrunching up like you’re about to cry again and you don’t need that, don’t need that right now at fucking all. “You could’ve told us—you didn’t have to go through this alone—”

“Yes, I did,” Yunho snaps. “It was my fault. All of this was my fault—”

“No, it fucking wasn’t!” you retort. “It was Mysterio’s fault—hell, it was mine and Mingi’s for not protecting the stupid spell enough—”

“No, it was mine, for trying to change something that couldn’t have been changed!” he yells. “I got the villains into our universe because I couldn’t think of anything beyond our fucking college admissions! I did a fuck up job of keeping the villains in line! I got Mei killed, I got you and Mingi injured, I caused so much trouble for Dr. Strange because I wasn’t thinking—”

“You were a kid!” you yell back. “We all were! Barely fucking eighteen! Not even college students, not even legal adults! And—Yunho! I may not remember anything, but I do fucking know that we never would’ve been coerced or something into helping you. You wouldn’t have done that! If we were helping you in that fight, it was because we agreed to, because we wanted to!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Yunho snaps. “It doesn’t matter that you wanted to! Because in the end, this was a fight that I started and that I should have ended myself! Instead, I got a whole bunch of other people involved and people were injured for it, people—people died for it, Y/N.” His face crumples, and he turns away.

All the fight leaves your body. You reach towards him, slowly take his hands in yours. To your surprise, he doesn’t tug them away.

“I wasn’t going to get you and Mingi killed off because I wanted you back,” Yunho whispers. “My fights were going to be on my terms and only mine. I know you fight now, as Dr. Strange’s apprentice—don’t bring that up with me. Those fights are your choices and on your terms.” Teary eyes look into yours and you can barely fight the urge to brush the wetness away. “It kills me to watch it happen, but that’s your choice. And I can’t interfere with that.” He takes a deep breath. “But I can interfere with the stuff that shouldn’t happen because it’s my fault.”

The anger starts to rise up in you once more. “You didn’t give either of us a choice in deciding that—”

“Right before Aunt Mei died, she told me something.” Yunho’s hands tremble in yours. “She said, ‘With great power, there must also come great responsibility.’”

You swallow hard.

“I don’t think I ever understood until then,” he says quietly. “Sure, I’d always known I had power, and I tried to use it well by being the friendly neighborhood Spiderman, you know. Protecting the little guy while others fight the big battles. But the responsibility…my lack of that is what started this whole thing in the first place.” Yunho swallows. “When I saw you and Mingi in the diner, and I made that choice. That was my responsibility. I wasn’t going to purposefully involve anyone else in my fights, my issues. Not now. Not anymore.”

One of his hands releases itself from yours. It rises toward the puckered scar, brushes it with a gentle touch. His fingertips tremble against your skin. “Do you know how you got this?” he asks, whisper soft.

Slowly, you shake your head.

“One of Osborn’s…gadgets, sliced you.” Yunho takes a deep, shaky breath, and you grip his hand harder. “And because of that, you—you fell. Right off the statue.”

You couldn’t speak right now, not even if you tried.

“You fell.” The words seem to rip themselves from Yunho’s throat and he looks away, his free hand covering his face for one, two awful moments before he turns back to you. “You fell, and I tried to catch you but Osborn knocked me out of the way midair, and it—it was only a miracle that one of the other Spidermen caught you. A miracle,” he repeats, almost as though he still doesn’t believe it.

This time you do reach up to brush the tears from his eyes. The movement feels so remarkably natural that you have to wonder how many times you made the same motion in a time before.

“I saw you with the scar. And suddenly I was there, watching you fall with no way to stop it.” Yunho squeezes his eyes shut. “I couldn’t have that happen again. Not to you. Not to anyone.”

His eyes open, and between the tears, all you can see is the certainty of his choice weighing dark in his pupils.

“Not because of me.”

. . . . .

Silence falls in Yunho’s studio apartment. The sun has risen, slats of pale light filtering through his windows, illuminating his face. In the glow of morning, Yunho’s young face only looks older.

And suddenly you feel guilty. So very guilty. You came to his apartment unannounced with a name in one hand, news you were certain he wouldn’t like in the other, and caused him pain. That was it. You forced him to relive all these memories, made him explain things he perhaps wasn’t ready to speak of, and yelled at him for a choice you’re not sure you would’ve made differently had you been in the same situation.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, throat suddenly choked. You drop his hands and step back, desperately trying to swallow your tears. “I—I shouldn’t have come.” Yunho’s eyebrows furrow, but you refuse to look at him. “It wasn’t my place to demand answers of you and I shouldn’t have yelled—”

“Y/N.”

This time it’s his hands that take yours, large and warm and gentle. You look down at your joined fingers, then up at his face. If you had loved each other as much as your memory would have you believe, this must have been a common occurrence.

No wonder it feels so safe.

“I don’t blame you,” he says, and it’s the steadiness of his gaze that convinces you he speaks true. “You had questions, and no one else you knew had answers.”

“Even so.” You blink a tear away. “Even so, Yunho.”

“No.” He grips your hands more tightly. “Do you know how I felt after I saw you the first time after? When you showed up with Dr. Strange in the middle of fighting the drakon?” You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off. “I was terrified, obviously, but watching you…” Yunho looks down at your joined hands and you think he’s going to start crying again, but when he looks back up, there’s a smile on his face despite the faint tears in his eyes. “It was good to see you, Y/N. Just so…good.”

You look down at your hands. Back up at Yunho’s face.

Eyes so soft with tears, so warm they could melt.

“I was happy to see you,” he says quietly, and for all his words are unbelievable you have to believe them because of the way he says them. “So happy. I mean—I’d made the decision. And I’d come to terms with that I probably would never see you again, or at least never be close with you again. But seeing you then, healthy and happy and just—you—”

A choked noise escapes your throat. Something like a laugh. Something like a sob.

“I thought I’d gotten over it, you know.” Yunho smiles and it’s beautiful and broken and brittle, echoes of joy bittersweet on his lips. “Thought that I’d be able to move on. And I did, in a way, but before I thought that I would forget it all. I thought that I could. But that moment just showed me that I’d really never be able to, and that I would be okay with it. Because seeing you like that—it was good, Y/N.” The smile grows. “Even now, seeing you in front of me like this…”

Oh. Oh, damn.

You’d thought that you were all cried out, but your eyes betray you once more. A headache is starting to build up in the back of your head but you force yourself to focus, to decipher Yunho’s words for what they are. “So—” You swallow. Try to speak. “Do—do you—”

“I still love you,” he says quietly. “Every time I see you, it feels like I’m a little more whole.”

Your face burns. “I—”

“You don’t have to say anything right now.” Yunho smiles, and even on his teary face he looks so handsome, so steady, and if it’s true that you were in love with him before it’s not difficult to understand why. “I know it’s a lot, and that you’ve only just begun to figure some things out. I’m not looking for an answer when I tell you this.” He takes a deep breath. “I just wanted you to know.”

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence. You look at your interlaced fingers, think about how natural it feels to have his hands in yours, to have come to him in this hour of answers and need. Briefly you think of Mingi, and it doesn’t surprise you to think that they could’ve been good friends too.

“I’m not…closed off. To anything.” You swallow hard, looking back up at Yunho. “Yet, at least. I can’t say I—that I love you, not now, but I do believe I loved you once, and I could be there again. Someday.”

Yunho’s eyes fill with tears again, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I just.” Tears of your own start to squeeze down your cheeks, past your lips and chin. “I don’t know if I will ever remember everything,” you finally warn, voice wobbly. “I think it’s more likely that I won’t. But if you’re willing, even then…”

“It’s okay.” Yunho’s smile is warm, and it’s what finally sends the rest of the tears spilling out of your eyes. “This is more than I ever could have hoped for in my life.”

“I want to remember,” you choke. “I want to remember, I want to so badly—”

“I do too,” he says, pulling you into his chest. His warm heartbeat thumps quietly against yours and you take comfort in its steady pace, one, two, one, two. “But even if you don’t, I want you to know that’s okay. And it always will be.”

“…How do you know?”

Yunho’s arms, warm around your body. His hold so gentle yet so firm, so safe and steady as he murmurs reassurances in your ear.

“Because,” he says, pulling away. You look up at him with your sticky, aching eyes, feel all of your trust in him only grow as he smiles.

“Because we can always make more memories of our own.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

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sunmoonjune · 2 years

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dewdrops at dawn

pairing: poly!ateez x fem!reader (ot8 x reader) [demon!au]

warnings: minors dni!! socially anxious reader, reader is implied to be neurodivergent but it’s never explicitly said, mentions of body insecurity, chubby reader, being followed, drunk assholes, cursing, demons, soulmates, reincarnation, blood, death, heavy suggestive content, mentions of angels being dicks (idk there’s a bit of angel slander but it’s just for plot purposes), a little gore, angst then lots of fluff, heavy sexual themes but no actual smut (again, minors please dni!!) (also, all suggestive content is 100% consensual, the reader just tries to evade their advances to continue their teasing), also the reader is mentioned to be some kind of atheist/not religious

word count: 17.2k

a/n: nooo the boys’ demon forms are totally not based on the obey me characters at all, why would you even ask that /j lol welcome to another monster fic!! I’ve been writing this one in between like the moon and finally had the motivation to finish it! I hope y’all enjoy this one!! <3

There’s an ache in your chest.

It’s not stinging or painful, by any means - just an ache. The dull throb is usually easily ignored in most circumstances, with a shrug of the shoulders or a heavy breath. The pain is never enough to worry your already addled mind. It lingers constantly, not sated by any human means.

You don't know how to describe it to those who ask. The pain isn’t sharp, and it’s certainly not excruciating. It's simply empty. That’s the only way you’ve learned to describe it. It’s a hole in your chest, aching to be filled - by what, you’re not quite sure. All you know is the ache feels null, like a void longing to be filled, or a chasm waiting to be crossed. There’s emptiness that cannot be filled no matter how hard you try.

Some days are better than others. On these, you can manage your day quite splendidly; going about your daily tasks does not pose a challenge. Getting up in the morning was not as difficult of a challenge, nor was dragging yourself to university classes.

On other days, you can barely bring yourself to leave the bed. The emptiness drags a pit into your stomach and you can feel nothing but the ache that longs to be filled. You have yet to discover what you’re searching for, but you long for the day the empty pain is filled.

Your friends, however, have an interesting way of comforting you.

In fact, you think you’re going to kill them.

After days and days of their begging, you finally allowed the two girls to drag you to a club they frequented. It wasn’t your ideal night out - made apparent by the number of excuses you’d provided when trying to avoid going out. The anxious pit at the bottom of your stomach threatened to crawl its way into your throat at the thought of the club.

However, no matter how hard you’d tried, the two girls had been persistent. When you’d explained an excuse to avoid the club one week, they simply offered to go the next evening. After offering other options and pitifully providing other explanations, the girls finally managed to convince you to join them. Of course, under the circumstances that you did not have to drink, and that they would not leave your side for too long.

You’d never really been a partier. Social anxiety, among the other apprehensive turmoils that lingered in your gut, simply kept you from enjoying the experience. There were too many possibilities at clubs: what to wear, what kind of makeup, what shoes do you wear without your feet getting sore, too many other people - the list went on. Besides, the blaring sound of the dubstep soundtrack - that could hardly be called music - and the flashing lights sought to overstimulate your senses just minutes after you arrived.

A ringing was already clouding your head and fogging your brain after mere minutes of sitting at the bar.

You anxiously tugged at the dress the two girls had chosen for you. It wasn’t something you were particularly comfortable dressing in, highlighting too many of the features you usually covered. The length allowed glimpses of your thighs to peek out, which caused you to pull your bag into your lap to cover. The rolls of your stomach could be seen when you sat, the fabric of the dress doing nothing to provide you room to hide them. The cloth of your bag rubbed against your skin as you clutched it to your front in an effort to shield the parts of your body you didn't want others to see. The twisted image of your skin made the lingering anxious pit swell in size.

It had been a little over an hour, and the itch under your skin that formed with the proximity of so many people was quickly becoming unbearable. It swelled under your skin and caused the twitch of your muscles in anxious spurts. You could almost feel the touch of germs and breath touching your skin from the throngs of people dancing on the floor nearby. At the thought, a shiver rolled back down your spine and you continued to rub your thumbs together in a stimulating manner.

You promised yourself a few minutes more, before you’d text your two friends and make your way out of the night club. It was undeniably puzzling how you’d lasted the entire hour, but you were ready to end the night. Despite knowing the girls for years, the ache in your chest still appeared when you worried you’d insult them by trying to provide for your own needs.

After screwing the lid of your water bottle tight, you shifted in your seat. Ready to text your two friends about your departure, a grunt is heard from your left as someone slides into the seat adjacent to you.

It’s a man, alcohol on his breath and unshaven, unkempt facial hair nearly causing you to wince. Not to mention, the scent of his body odor reeked from the bodies dancing on the floor behind you. You can feel his eyes on your skin, but you attempt to ignore it by tucking your hair behind your ear and tapping on your phone screen. You hope he’ll turn his attention elsewhere, as you try to look busy with your device.

Unfortunately, your wishes are not fulfilled as the drunk stranger tries to grab your attention. He waves his hand in front of your face, and you quickly pull back away, not wanting to be touched by a stranger. His grimy fingers and horrid stench cause you to hide a wince beneath a curt, uncomfortable smile.

“Hey,” his drunk voice slurs. “You’re pretty cute for a chubby girl.”

You wince.

The mention of your size twists the knife already buried in your heart. You’re not often approached by men, often being overlooked for your pretty friends, but at least the distaste of your figure has always been internal rather than external. The notion of such comments further propels your self-deprecating mind. It’s a thorn in your side and a cloud in your rear-view mirror: constant, draining reminders that always seem to ruin an otherwise sunny day.

You chose to ignore the man, chewing on the inside of your cheek to regulate some of the anxiety. Blood seeps from the wounds already lining the inner lip, but you don't have another outlet. There’s a thickness in your throat that you’re afraid you can’t speak over, and the churning in your stomach is steadily rising.

Clutching the phone tightly in your grasp, you continue to type out a message to your two friends. Your fingers skate across the keyboard, motions too quick to properly spell. The message is jumbled, but you hope they understand despite the typos scattered across the screen.

“Oi - “ the drunkard grunts, obviously upset at the lack of attention. “I’m talking to you, ya know?”

It’s becoming increasingly harder to hide your disgust as the man continues to lean closer to your form. As you continue to fiddle with the strap of your bag, you turn to the man. Ready to express your discomfort, you begin to stutter out an excuse when the man reaches to touch you. Growing tired of your ignorance to his efforts, the sleazy man had attempted to grab your attention by gripping your skin.

You don’t know what he was planning on touching, but your immediate reaction is to move.

Your heart skips a beat in panic.

Quickly sliding off the stool, you step away from the drunkard with a muttered curse. You’re a little wobbly in the shoes your friends have chosen for you, but you maintain your balance. Scanning the crowd, you try to seek out a bartender or security guard in the crowded club. There are too many bodies in the room, further instigating the panic.

You can’t seem to see anyone in the crowd, and the loud noises and bright, flashing lights are only adding to the over-stimulation. With a quickening heartbeat and racing mind, you stumble away from the man.

With no one in sight to help, you attempt to mutter out a few words.

“Please don’t touch me.”

The sleazy drunkard, obviously too heavily intoxicated to process basic commands, slides off his own barstool and attempts to follow you.

“Where ya’going?” He slurs, stumbling on his heavy feet. His off-center balance and tilted walk are obvious signs of his intoxication. You step away again, with a racing heart and sweaty palms.

Your head whips around the room, still scanning for someone - anyone. There has to be someone in the crowd that could help. Anyone could see you in a panic and reach out to help out of simple concern, however it appears that the flood lights, loud music coupled with a few drinks has made the crowd oblivious to your situation.

With heavy breaths, you push your hands out in front of you in an attempt to keep the man away. Your hands tremble a little despite your efforts to appear strong. You squeeze a fist tight and wave the man away.

“Please leave me alone.” You grunt, just loud enough to be heard over the music rushing through the speakers.

As though he hadn't heard you at all, the man slurs out a few curses as he reaches to touch you again. Though he doesn’t get the chance, you wince at the imagined feeling of his greasy fingers grazing against your skin.

Before his fingers can skim against your bare skin, you turn and start pushing through the crowd. Sweet and grime press into your personal space and you scrunch your face into a cringe. The heat of the mass of shifting bodies continues to press into your skin, and it makes the room feel like it’s closing around you.

You pant as several bodies shove you around the crowd. Tears are beginning to push against your eyes, and you force them closed to keep them from falling. Another body shoves into you and you stumble from the force.

The door is not far. It’s the one that lets out at the back of the bar, but you long for any method of escape possible. Another few shoves throw the crowd and you break free from their grasp. Sweat sticks to your skin and it feels like you’re suffocating. There’s too many things touching you. The reminder of their bodies against your skin makes bile rise into your throat, and you don’t understand why you hate their touch so much.

Panting and nearly shaking, you whip your head over your shoulder. You hope that you’ve lost the drunkard in the throng of people, but it appears your wishes will go unanswered.

From the depths of the crowd, you can see his form still pushing through the dancing masses. His eyes are still on your form, and despite his intoxication, he seems able to follow you without too much trouble.

You cringe and stumble as you turn back towards the door. You and your friends had taken an Uber to the party as they had predicted to be drinking all night long. As you push the heavy door open, your thoughts race as you attempt to figure out where to go.

Your first thought is to find a crowd of people. Hopefully someone would be able to aid your panic and turn the drunkard away.

Skin sticking and chest heaving, you turn your head around with wide eyes. Your heart sinks when your eyes settle on the dark alleyway. The back door of the bar has let out into a long, dank corridor. There are dumpsters across from you and not a person in sight.

You whimper at the lack of life, heart still racing and mind still churning. It’s running a mile a minute, trying to force a semi-coherent thought that will help you escape. However, there are more cries of panic and worst-case scenarios filtering through your consciousness than ideas.

You want to hide, but there are so few options in the decrepit alleyway, you’re sure you’ll be found. Even a drunkard would be able to see your crouched form behind the dumpsters.

Running may not be a good option either. You’ll have to kick off your heels, but you don’t really want to put your bare feet on the glass and grime covered concrete. You cringe at the thought of bacteria seeping into open wounds and push the idea away.

The creak of the heavy bar door echoes through the silence of the alleyway.

The sound sends a cold shiver down your spine. You’re out of options. The greasy drunkard is stumbling out the door with a sneer on his face. His clothes are loose and askew, likely from the push and pull of the crowd. Hair messy and alcohol still on his breath, he stumbles towards you.

“Where ya going, girlie? I’m tryna talk to ya!” He’s nearly shouting now, his spit spraying and voice angry. You cringe at his wretched breath and nearly gag.

A tear finally leaks from your stubborn eyes. Heart pounding and throat dry, you can’t seem to force out any other words - not that protests stopped him before. You step back, kicking a glass bottle with your feet and almost tripping. You can’t take your eyes off the man, too worried if you move them, he’ll lunge.

As his form approaches, you can’t think of any other options. In your state of unrelenting panic, you do something you’ve never done before.

With a racing mind and a lump in your stomach, you start praying.

Please, fuck - if anyone is out there, please help me! I’ve never prayed before, but please, God - anyone - please save me. I’m so sorry -

You’ve never reached out like this before - never felt the need to. You were not raised to follow any religion, so the thought never really crossed your mind. The thoughts of demons and angels were never at the forefront of your consciousness, nor was believing in a higher power. However, the fear and panic have you reaching for any string of hope in an otherwise dark and dreary tunnel.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you continue to plead for help in your mind. Form shaking and tears finally falling, you being to sob. They come out choked and breathy, just barely escaping your lungs as they blur with pleads for help. Your chest feels like it’s caving in on itself and you can’t feel your extremities. Your fingers are numb and your arms are slowing losing feeling from the panic.

You brace for the impact of his nasty fingers on your skin. With every muscle in your body tense, you heave out another sob and a plea for safety. The drunkard is mumbling words under his breath, but your racing mind is so loud you can’t hear anything but the rushing in your ears. Counting the seconds, you lock every bone in your body and prepare to fight with everything you have.

Then, there’s some sort of flash across your closed eyelids and a dark, hissing sound. You squeeze your eyes shut even further, shuffling backwards to make yourself even smaller. The sounds of struggle reach your ears, feet scuffling and a shout of some sort of anger or pain.

The sick sound of bones being broken echoes through the alleyway, and then there’s silence.

You shuffle backwards again, now terrified of the new presence in the alleyway. You hadn’t heard the bar door open, nor the sounds of approaching footsteps. You’re unsure how the new person has entered the alleyway, but they’ve incapacitated your attacker. They’re silent and strong, and you’re afraid they’ve now set their sights on you.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper. The words are so silent, you’re not sure the new presence has heard them. Eyes still squeezed shut, you press your back against the damp wall of the alley behind you.

A step is taken towards your form. You flinch, head moving away from the noise. The person is likely aware of your fear and stops moving.

There’s silence for a few beats, then the soft sounds of humming fill your ears. It’s sweet and soft, and you nearly sink into the sound. Their voice is deep and gentle, filled with honey and sweet sugar. They hum a short tune, and the sounds send some sort of pleasant river down your spine. It’s familiar, the zing. You’ve felt it before, but only briefly.

A tug has always pulled on your heart, sending shivers down your spine and yanking longingly when you interact with certain things. Sometimes a sense of deja vu echoes throughout your being when you pass places that seem too familiar.

This zing has echoed through your veins before - but it was different then. Before, this shiver passed through your skin in longing. As if you had been separated from something for too long; some kind of homesickness or other sense of longing.

Now, the flutter of your heart increases as their voice seems to awaken every nerve under your skin. Their hum seems to slow your pulse and weaken your muscles. You sink into their voice, a pleased hum erupting from your own throat despite your efforts to hold it back.

A soft chuckle erupts from the form in front of you.

Once again, a pleasant shiver sets your body alight. All the panic from before is slowly ebbing away from your mind; replaced with thoughts of the new presence and their honeyed voice and sweet laugh.

“S’alright, Pretty.” Their voice echoes through your mind. The deep sound seems to fill every nook and cranny of your body, and you wish you could linger in the sound of their voice.

When you crack open your teary eyes, it’s not what you expect.

The drunkard from before is gone, the space he occupied is empty and there is no trace of his existence. Instead, another form has taken his place.

Though you wish you could say you were mystified by the man’s beauty at first, your eyes are immediately drawn to the horns, wings and tail of the form before you.

While he’s one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen, with dark hair hanging in front of his eyes and sharp cheekbones that you ache to touch, your eyes fall to the twisted horns that curl around his head. They’re as dark as his hair, twisting around his skull like a ram and shining in the moonlight. His wings are dark too, spread like a bat’s. The membranes are dark, but the outline of the bones are white, standing out against the darkness of the skin between them. You nearly reach out to touch the smooth skin before you remember where you are.

The man’s tail is dark too. It looks nearly identical to those of demons you’ve seen in fairytales. Long and prehensile, it has a barb-like hook at the end. It’s sharp and dangerous, but it gently sways like a cat’s while you look at it.

When you meet the man’s eyes with your teary ones, you suck in a deep breath.

His black eyes are already settled on your face, a sweet smile on his lips. At the contact between your eyes, a deeper shiver sings throughout your body, nearly making you shake. It’s pleasant, a hum you feel like you’ve felt before. It sets every nerve in your body alive, and you long to feel it again.

With a slightly agape mouth, you can’t take your eyes off the beauty of the man before you.

He chuckles again, a cheeky smile erupting onto his mouth. The tips of sharpened fangs gleam in the light of the moon. Some sort of aroused thrum echoes through your skin at the sight, and you curse yourself for those kinds of thoughts at a time like this. His smile makes him even more attractive - you can’t understand what this nearly familiar man is doing to your mind.

“Seven Hells,” the man giggles, the grin still on his cheeks. “You would not believe how fast angels are! I had to fight like six other people to be the first to answer your call.”

Breathing out a sigh of confusion, you tilt your head. The man before you seems to think the action funny, and he huffs out a breathy laugh. He’s endeared, but you don’t know why.

The concept of demons and angels confuses you, but you don’t refute the claim. After all, his moving wings and tail couldn’t be some sort of elaborate costume.

You shiver again when his eyes meet yours again and you sigh out a breathy, sweet sound. The form in front of you seems to have some sort of similar reaction as his wings flutter and tail swings again.

The only thing your addled brain seems to be able to force out in its confusion is a meek, “Hello.”

The demonic form in front of you shudders at your voice, seeming to have a similar reaction as you had before. His head tips back a little and you nearly keen at the sight of his throat. The Adam’s apple is apparent in the moonlight and you nearly imagine a dark purple mark on his skin, before you shake off the haze and focus back on the present.

With another sweet grin, the man’s sweet voice responds.

“Hello, Darling. It’s been a long time.”

You scrunch your nose in confusion, attempting to decipher what he meant in his words. Have you met before?

“My name’s San,” he provides. His hair falls into his dark eyes as he leans forward to tip his head in a soft greeting. The dark horns shine in the light, but for some strange reason, you are not frightened by them. Though they shine menacingly, you ache to stroke them rather than to cower in fear. You wonder how they feel underneath your fingers. Would they be rough or scaly? Can he feel it - are there nerves in his horns that would allow him to feel your touch?

You cough a little sigh to break from your trance. Then you offer your name in return. San smiles once more, showing his white teeth, before he offers you a hand.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of trusting this demonic stranger after being chased into an alleyway. However, the singing under your skin and the butterflies in your stomach have left you with some sort of deja vu. You feel as though you’ve met San before. His presence is so familiar that even your skin seems to remember his touch. Just the sound of his voice sets your body alight.

Eyeing his hand, your eyes fall to the black polish coating his fingernails. San seems to take note of your hesitance and offers you a gentle smile. He leans down a little, bringing his height to match yours. His wings fold against his back, making his form a little smaller. San is a little less menacing in this way - though, you weren’t exactly afraid of him before.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” San whispers. His words are only for your ears.

You nod your head softly. With a determined sigh, you place your hand in San’s. Something about him is trustworthy; whether it’s his kind disposition or his familiarity, you allow San to gently keep you upright as he pulls you towards his body. He helps you maintain your balance, legs still shaky from the chase.

His hands are as warm as his demeanor. You feel yourself melting into his side, and despite your hopes to keep upright, San has you weak in the knees.

“Is it alright if I walk you home, Darling?”

Meeting his eyes, you nod your head wearily. With San’s hands on your skin, you can’t seem to think. His touch scrambles your brain far more than his voice had. When you regain your balance, San takes his hands away from your skin and you nearly whine.

Embarrassed, you turn away from the man. San chuckles, endeared by your shyness. It’s not the first time you’ve attempted a similar maneuver. He savors in your presence, eternally grateful to have returned to your side once more. It’s been far too long since his skin had touched yours. He can feel the familiar connection hum underneath his skin, the ninth piece of a puzzle falling into place.

He knows his seven lovers long to take his place. When the ring of your voice had echoed in their minds, San had been the first to launch to his feet. His stomach twisting in both fear and longing, San was already ready to fall into your side.

“Dibs!” He’d cried, disappearing into a cloud of smoke.

His heart was racing as he felt the terror in your voice. San had fought at least six angels through his descent in order to reach your side. After all these years, he was not about to let an angel be the one to answer your prayers.

The seven others had groaned, voices blending together as they ached to follow their partner. Hongjoong had chuckled, drawing Seonghwa into his side as they laughed at their younger lover. Though they wanted to follow, they knew you were safe in San’s hands. San was entirely capable of fighting off the strongest of angels, and he had been one of the most involved in finding you.

“Ah, eager brat,” Hongjoong grunts. It’s not malicious, an upturned grin on his lips indicates that.

Seonghwa smiled as he buried his face into Hongjoong’s hair. Minutes later, the seven boys felt the same connection finally locked into place. The hum sung beneath their skin as it did yours. The ninth bond fit perfectly into the web of connections between the eight boys. It intertwined with the others and pulsed with energy. Feeling the quiver beneath his skin, Seonghwa dropped his head back and hummed pleasantly.

It was like no other. The feeling of a bond slipping into place was more euphoric than any other experience any of the demons had encountered. At his side, Wooyoung pouted. He had been on his feet as quickly as San. He ached to complete their bond as San had. While the connection had returned, the bond between you and San was exponentially stronger as you had contact with him.

Wooyoung ached to connect your souls as San had; to feel the lingering emotion sink into his own skin and fill his entire being. He longed to feel the touch of your skin against his and bask in the warmth of your hands.

However, he knew he had plenty of time to complete the bond. You had finally returned, and the eight could never be more grateful. The seven men had exchanged knowing glances, passing unspoken words through their bonds. With a deep, fulfilled sigh, they allowed themselves to relax knowing that you were safe with San.

You would return to their side soon.

When San walked you back to your apartment that evening, he had explained the basic biology of his species.

He had avoided much of the deeper details, but he had allowed as many questions as you could conceptualize. San explained that he was demon-kind. His horns, tail and wings had obviously given away his genetics, but you were still mystified. Previously, you did not necessarily believe in their existence. Though you had never discounted it, it was not a superstition you put much thought into.

San had chucked at your wondrous expression, feeling endeared at your curiosity. He had expected a little fear at his appearance, but you expressed nothing but wonder. You had almost asked to touch his wings, but you figured it was not something to ask upon first meeting.

Though he left out his status in Hell, as well as his seven other lovers and their bonds, San answered every question you asked of him. He hid his demonic features from sight as he walked you to your door, not wanting suspicious eyes to watch the two of you. You were a little disappointed to see them disappear, but you had even more questions to ask of San so you didn’t mind.

When he left you at your door, you were upset to see him go. Whatever sung under your skin in his presence gave you such a euphoric feeling. It was one you didn’t want to go away.

At your barely hidden frown, San had chuckled. He promised to return soon to answer more of your questions, but he wanted to make sure you got home safe. He explained that he could hear your prayers, the same as angels could. It was the reason he appeared in the first place.

If you wanted to see him again before he could find time, all you had to do was call out his name.

When you had shut the door behind you, you had collapsed against the door with weak knees. After being chased and harassed by a drunkard and saved by an Adonis of a demon, your head was spinning. Too much had occurred in one night.

However, you can’t say you regretted joining your friends that evening. Meeting San had felt like nothing you had ever experienced. The pure euphoria that rushed through your veins was like no other. Even seconds after saying goodbye, you wished to feel the shiver under your skin once more. Just your name falling from his lips would be enough.

Though he’s a demon and you should be frightened, you can’t bring yourself to stop thinking of him. He was so kind and gentle with you despite his demonic nature. He had saved your life, after all.

You spend the next few days with San’s image in your mind and his voice in your thoughts. He doesn’t leave your consciousness for hours. The honeyed sound of his words send more shivers down your spine and have butterflies twirling in your stomach.

In the few days since your interaction, you almost find yourself calling his name.

You hesitate as you don’t have a reason to see him again, but every nerve in your body aches to be in his presence again. It wants to hear his voice and feel his touch, no matter if he was a demon.

It’s three days later when you see him again.

This time, San has brought someone with him.

When there’s a knock at your door in the golden hour of sunset, you think nothing of the intrusion. Your neighbors are quite friendly, so you don’t mind humoring them despite the lingering social anxiety. You huffed a quick breath and pulled open the door, ready to interact with your neighbors for a few moments.

However, you’re more than surprised to see the form of San alongside another person - well, demon you suppose.

San is still hiding his demon form, but meeting his eyes still sets your heart alight. At his side, is another man with longer hair, but equally as breathtaking as San.

The man is shorter than his counterpart, standing just an inch shorter than San. His hair is split: the top half an ebony black, and the underside dyed a bright blonde. The combination is gorgeous against his skin. His hair is tied back into a half bun, letting the underside rest against his neck.

His jaw is sharp and his eyes have not left your face. They’re kind, just like San’s, and you find yourself lost in them. He’s got a giddy smile on his cheeks and it seems as though he’s holding back from something.

The familiar zing that flowed through your skin erupts into another wave of shivers. It lingers in your stomach, settling in a consistent hum that makes you feel warm and gooey. It seems this man has a similar effect on you as San does.

San nearly giggles as you can’t take your eyes off his lover.

He sends a warm bolt of energy into his bond with Wooyoung, giggling once more when his partner sends him a knowing look.

At his laugh, you manage to shake yourself off the trance and look back at San.

“San!” You happily mumble. There’s a grin on your lips and both boys have to resist pressing a kiss to your cheeks.

San laughs again and leans forward to wrap his arms around you. It’s a friendly hug, and you try not to linger. However San’s comforting scent has you hesitating to pull away. His grip is warm and strong, keeping his hands around your shoulders as he sways gently.

When you pull away, there’s a smile on both your faces. San turns to the man beside him and begins to introduce him.

“Darling, this is Wooyoung.”

You bring your eyes back to the form of the other demon, breath catching once more at his alluring beauty. Wooyoung is still giddy, nearly rocking on his heels to hold back from hugging you.

Wooyoung feels as though he may pass out. He has no idea how San had done this. Just being in your presence, seeing your form before him has stolen the breath straight from his lungs. He’s never seen anyone more gorgeous, besides from his lovers, of course.

The bond humming between the two of you is swelling. With your form in front of his, the connection is finally close to snapping completely into place. Wooyoung shivers as it hums, letting the pleasant feeling fill his body and set his heart on fire.

“Hello, Sunshine!” Wooyoung cheerily provides. His voice is nearly sweeter than San’s, and you find yourself sinking into it as you had with San’s.

You giggle back a reply of your name, shivering when his lips repeat the word.

It’s as easy to interact with Wooyoung as it is with San.

You invite the two in to talk, an offer you don’t usually make. The two happily follow you inside, where they allow their demon forms to reappear once checking there were no open windows.

You have no issue with their true forms, a fact that still surprises you.

San's form is familiar, so you find yourself lingering on Wooyoung. His wings are feathered, rather than bat-like. They’re are long and black, shining in the light of dusk. His wingspan is arguably larger than San’s, a fact you don’t mention to either man.

Wooyoung’s horns are different too; the black shapes that protrude from his skull are not curled like San’s. Instead, they twist upward in a single bend. The points face the sky rather than end by his ears. They look sharper than San’s too, the points thinner and more menacing.

It also appears that Wooyoung does not have a tail. While San’s lingers at his waist, still flicking to indicate his emotions, Wooyoung’s demon form does not appear to have the prehensile appendage.

You nearly ask the man about it, before you spot the second set of wings that extend from Wooyoung’s back. They’re smaller than the first, sitting just below them. Still black in color, the second set of feathered wings appear in place of a tail, it seems. When Wooyoung fully extends them after catching your lingering gaze, you find yourself awestruck at their beauty.

His feathers ruffle as you look, and Wooyoung can feel pride soar through his being. A hum echoes through his veins when he feels your awe. The notion has Wooyoung nearly preening.

“You have two sets of wings?” You question, excitedly. You nearly buzz as you look at the appendages, aching to run your fingers through the feathers.

San is not jealous, a loving gaze lingering in his features as he watches you interact with one of his lovers. With a pleased smile on his face, San adores watching you speak with Wooyoung. He can feel the joy and curiosity echo from both bonds, the feeling radiating in his body.

A hum falls from his lips as you talk, and San wishes to bury his grin in either of your necks to express his joy.

The three of you settle into your meager living room. With drinks from your kitchen in hand, you continue to talk to the two boys. Learning about their demonic nature is more interesting than you thought, and you find yourself eagerly taking in all the information you can.

San and Wooyoung continue to exchange knowing glances, grins on their lips and hearts singing in joy. It’s been too long since the three of you sat like this.

Hours seem to pass, and the sun has completely set by the time you break away from conversation. It seems to flow too easily with both men, a notion you enjoy. Usually, social interaction with strangers is nothing more than stomach-turning and anxiety-inducing. However, with both San and Wooyoung, it seems to flow easily. There is never a lapse in conversation, and you eagerly exchange stories amongst each other.

As the hour drags closer to ten, Wooyoung and San exchange another long glance. You can tell they’re speaking to each other - whether it’s actually telepathically or not, is undecided.

The two boys grin once more before they turn back to you.

“Darling,” San hums warmly. “We have something to ask you.”

You find yourself nodding in agreement motioning for the two to continue.

“Is it alright -” Wooyoung begins, hesitating as he attempts to word his question properly. “ - If we bring you to meet the others?”

“The others?”

It’s a fair question. San and Wooyoung have mentioned their lovers in conversation, making sure to include the mention of their polyamorous relationship so as not to confuse you. You aren’t sure how many other demons there are, nor where they are. However, perhaps a more insane part of you doesn’t seem to care.

If the humming under your skin is any indication, you have some sort of connection to these demons - at least San and Wooyoung so far.

Maybe you’re just insane, a question you consider in addition to your already mentally ill brain.

San giggles, “Yes, the others. There’s six other demons of our kind.”

Your head tilts in question, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched in confusion. Their kind? What other sorts of demons were there?

“Your kind?”

Wooyoung is the one to offer an answer. He leans forward, bowing his head in a slight incline to show the top of his head. In a shuddering wave of light, a golden crown appears on the top of Wooyoung's head. It’s covered in colorful gems, the dainty gold twisting to accommodate the jewels. It’s ornate and elaborate, it’s beauty glistening in the moonlight hour.

Your jaw drops askew. Still a little confused, you turn to Wooyoung.

“Are you royalty?” Your tone drops, a little worried you were informal with some kind of royalty who ruled over the depths of Hell. The gems of Wooyoung’s crown glimmer once more, their beauty taunting you.

San chuckles as he rests his elbows on his knees. “Of a sort,” he offers.

His crown has materialized as well, the gold intertwining throughout his horns. With the jewels, both boys are even more stunning with the gold shining in the light.

“There are eight rulers of Hell,” Wooyoung finally explains. “Among the seven rings, seven of the princes rule over a domain, as well as a sin. Our leader, the High King, rules over Hell and its entirety.”

You nod, following Wooyoung’s explanation. He continues to describe the seven rings of Hell, as well as the seven sins. You continue to be fascinated by his words, your enthusiasm pulsing in your bond.

San’s lips turn upwards in a soft smile. He remembers explaining this once previously. Your enthusiasm is quite the same, and a sense of nostalgia and sweet memories sing in his chest. The warmth flows from him and into Wooyoung’s end of the connection. He hesitates in sending the emotions your way, not knowing if you’re prepared to handle the strength of their feelings.

“To meet the others,” you start - “Would I have to go to Hell?”

San’s head shakes in a nod. “Yes, if you’re comfortable. Hongjoong is alright with coming here, as well, if you’d prefer.”

A beat of silence fills the room as you consider your options. Entering the domain of Hell does send an unpleasant shiver down your spine. A human in the underworld may not invite pleasant creatures into your space. However, inviting six more demons into your small apartment may draw unwanted attention to yourself. Your neighbors know you as a fairly solitary person. You only have a few close friends that enter your apartment, and your neighbors are nosy enough to notice when eight strangers enter your dwelling.

San hums, leaning forward to place his hand onto your knee. His hand is gentle and warm. Despite the layer of cloth between you, the heat of San’s skin warms your skin. Another shudder, pleasant this time, overtakes your body. The roll of your stomach returns, but it’s become a welcome sensation. Your ears are hot, not used to the physical affection.

“We’d never let anything happen to you, Darling.” San reassures. “Ya know that, right?”

Wooyoung’s sweet voice responds in another hum. His eyes are gentle, singing with adoration that you’ve never seen before. Their gazes have you avoiding their eyes in an effort to appear unaffected. However, unbeknownst to you, Wooyoung and San are already well aware of all your inner workings. They know exactly what strings to pull in order to embarrass you. The touches that fluster you and the words that arouse you are ones that the boys are familiar with. It’s not hard to send your body into overdrive.

“You’re safe with us, Sunshine.” Wooyoung reminds. His words are stubborn, unyielding to any protest you may offer.

With a strong sigh of determination, you relent. If you’re going to Hell, it may as well be with two of the most attractive demons you’ve ever seen.

Their unwavering promise of protection seems to settle over you with a wave of comfort. Relaxing the tension in your muscles, you offer the two a warm smile.

“Alright, take me to Hell.”

A few hours later, Wooyoung is stabilizing your waist as you finally land on solid ground.

San had warned you of the effects of his teleportation, but you were still unprepared for the violent jerk of your body into the unknown. San was clutched to the two of you, but Wooyoung was the one to keep you upright. His warm hands were settled on your waist, offering a gentle squeeze when you placed your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself standing.

You still don’t understand the zing that echoes through your veins at their touch, but you haven’t the courage to ask either demon. You hope that soon after you meet the other six, there will be time to answer more questions.

Leaning forward a bit, you rest your hands on your knees to counteract some of the nausea. You breathe a deep sigh, trying to control your breathing to reduce the bile at the back of your throat. The side effects of teleportation are nasty.

San strokes a hand over your spine, a beat of apology echoing down his bond.

“M’sorry, Pretty.”

You offer a soft shake of your head and a wave of your hand. It’s not his fault - the easiest way in and out of Hell is via teleportation. You don’t blame San for any of the reaction, attempting to wave off the man as you breathe deeply once more.

Rubbing a hand over your eyes, you scrub the fuzz and dizziness from your mind in an attempt to provide some clarity. When you reopen the lids, you set your sights on your first glimpse of Hell.

It’s different than you thought.

Most descriptions of Hell depict a fiery pit of nothing but pain and despair. They detail a never-ending source of torture and depression. You don’t know if you expected something similar, but this was not an option you had considered.

Before you, is a palace worthy of generations of royalty. Though it’s black in color rather than the white humans are inclined to use, the palace is more magnificent than any you’d ever seen in photographs. It stretches into the sky with twisting pillars and stained glass windows. The steps are dark marble and the veins of quartz twist throughout the stone.

You feel out of place for a moment, before San runs his hand over your back again. You lean into his hands to savor in his touch, the bond thrumming between your skin. There’s an echo of longing from San’s side, but you are unable to decipher it.

“You alright, Sunshine?” Wooyoung is still at your front, hands gently stroking over your waist. Your ears heat once more, and you nearly wiggle to escape Wooyoung’s wandering hands. Embarrassed, you offer a shy nod in response.

San chuckles, feeling the pride that Wooyoung emanates down their bond. Your flustered state seems to drive both men into frenzied states. They revel in your embarrassment, wanting to feel your cheeks heat and skin light up as you squirm. Perhaps it’s some kind of favor of corruption, but they are already well aware of their inclination to such behaviors.

Wooyoung throws his lover a barely concealed smile as he removes his hands from your waist and steps away.

The feathered demon turns away, leading you and San up the stairs. San takes a step up the stairs, before turning and offering his hand. You smile and place your palm in his, allowing him to lead you up the front staircase.

Heart beating, you internalize some panic.

In a few moments, you’ll be presented in front of six rulers of Hell, including the High King. As what? You’re unsure. You’ve only known San and Wooyoung for so little time, so you don’t know what their connection is to you. Why they’ve chosen you to meet the other rulers, is beyond you.

Your heart stutters. With your palms beginning to sweat, you try to calm your racing mind and hope that San doesn’t notice your sweaty palms.

San, who’s felt the panic rise, sends a bolt of comfort down your bond. Though you likely won’t be able to understand, San longs to comfort you, even unconsciously. Wooyoung offers similar support, turning around and sending you a dazzling smile. His fangs poke out of his mouth as he offers wordless comfort.

You sigh deeply, still heavily concerned. The beat of warmth that seemed to filter through your veins was comforting. You have no idea where it came from, but it allowed some of your tensed muscles to loosen. The twisting in your gut has untangled a little, and you manage to tear your eyes from the floor.

Sending San a barely hopeful smile, you attempt to appear brave.

Wooyoung turns back to the doors of the palace, flicking his fingers to open the gates. The dark, heavy doors part for you to enter. Light from the interior of the palace filters out, and you manage to catch a glimpse of the towering pillars that frame the walkways. You’re the slightest bit intimidated by the grandeur of the palace. Walking into the interior in your sweatshirt and jeans feels underhanded in a way. You hope the six princes don’t mind.

San falls back, allowing you to step in front of him while Wooyoung leads the three of you through the winding hallways of the palace. He’s filled with a warmth that he hasn’t felt in decades. The dark haired boy nearly keens when you turn your head over your shoulder, making sure he was still following.

Your eyebrows are pulled together in the slightest, a notion that San does not miss. He knows you’re nervous - he can feel it through the bond. Though you don’t recognize that you’re sending emotions his way, San can feel every beat of nerves and every spike of anxiety as you continue to approach the throne room.

He almost reaches out to soothe the tension in your shoulders, but the way you curl the slightest bit inwards suggests that you’re not in the right headspace to be touched at the moment.

When Wooyoung motions with his fingers, the grand mahogany doors to the throne room open. They swing slowly, allowing you to take another deep breath to settle the anxious stomach ache that has settled in your gut.

In through your nose and out through the mouth. You repeat the process a second time, sending Wooyoung a small smile when he turns to check on you. He’s feeling the same nerves San is, and he wonders if the others can feel it too. It’s likely not as strong; the bond won’t fully snap into place until contact is initiated.

Wooyoung gives you another toothy grin and a gentle nod, reassuring you without words, before he steps into the throne room. He gestures for you to follow him, and you do. Nearly tripping over your feet, you stumble into the room. An endearing look follows you, San’s eyes filled with mirth and love at the same time.

Wooyoung heads for his seat at the throne, allowing you to step into the room at your own pace. San remains at your side, a gesture you greatly appreciate.

Unbeknownst to you, San and Wooyoung had not informed the other six of your arrival. It was a spur of the moment decision, their silent conversation taking place in your living room. They could feel the rising ache in the other bonds, and knew that they would be slow to introduce themselves; they wanted to gradually bring you into their circle, allowing you to take the lead. However, after your enthusiasm from meeting Wooyoung and the beats of euphoria from your side of the bond, San wanted to introduce you as soon as possible.

The eight rulers of Hell had waited decades for their ninth piece to return to their arms.

Hongjoong, sitting at the center throne, turns his head from his conversation with Jongho at the sound of footsteps. He recalls allowing San and Wooyoung to enter the human realm earlier that afternoon, suspecting their visit to your side. However, the third set of footsteps has his voice catching in his throat.

Whipping his head to the front, Hongjoong’s jaw gapes. His eyes are wide and features in shock. His longer, light brown hair rests against his neck, a thin feather or two intertwined in the front strands. He’s utterly gorgeous, as are the five other men at his sides.

His wings are larger than both San’s and Wooyoung’s. They’re grandeur, black and bony like San’s, but they’re dripping in gold. The hooked ends are capped with dainty, golden chains and the white bones are laced with similar gold. Every inch of his wings sings of his royal blood, the sight breathtaking in its own right.

The High King’s horns are curled like antlers. They twist around his head, large and proud. Some deeper urge in your chest wants to run your fingers along every delicate curve to see if he’ll shiver.

With his heart in his throat, and a beat skipped in his pulse, Hongjoong feels weak at the knees. If he’d been standing, he fears he may have collapsed. The shock is evident in the other five bonds at his side. Similar expressions have fallen onto his lovers, their eyes having snapped to the center of the throne room.

At San’s side, is someone they’ve been aching to see.

There’s a faint smirk on Wooyoung’s face, and Seonghwa nearly wants to wipe it off. He had known San and Wooyoung were planning something, the two were always conniving amongst each other, often dragging Mingi into their messes.

You shuffle on your feet, swaying gently as the demon princes lay their sights on you. There’s shock on their features, and you wonder if you were supposed to be at the palace at all.

With a still anxious stomach, you nearly turn your head to question San’s intentions. However, before you can do so, the man at the center throne is standing.

He rises so quickly, you fear the throne will topple behind him. His beauty is breathtaking, but you don’t have much time to admire the High King before he’s approaching you.

His eyes are wide, a lump in his throat and tears nearly forming in his eyes. He’s remarkably gentle in appearance for a king. You expected him to be much more intimidating, however his kind eyes and heartbroken expression nearly have you melting.

There’s some kind of pulse winding through your veins, and you jolt as energy fizzles under your skin. A euphoric feeling filters through your muscles as the High King approaches. His lips are twisted into a painful smile, as if he’s holding back tears, but you can’t fathom why he’d cry at the sight of you.

Before you can do anything, the High King is inches from your form.

You almost step back, but San’s reassuring presence behind you and the euphoria in your chest has you hesitating.

Neither of you utter any words for a beat of silence. The other five princes have stood from their seats, itching to follow their king to your side. After a moment, the king drops to his knees, hands at your hips and tears in his eyes.

A pained smile is on his lips and his expression is remarkably excruciating. You ache to wipe his tears away, unsure why his pain saddens you so. At your feet, the king gazes up at you with a look you’ve never seen before. It’s as if you’re the sun in his own personal sky or a light in an otherwise darkened world. A demon of such high ranking caliber is on his knees at your feet, hands clutching your sides like he’s worried you’ll disappear if he blinks.

His hands aren’t necessarily tight, just gripping you steady enough that he’s sure your form is real. Hongjoong still isn’t quite sure this isn't another dream of his. It’s been years since he’s felt your skin under his hands; felt the warmth of your body in his grasp and memorized the details of your face in his mind. His teary eyes take in your beauty as if it was his first breath of fresh air in years.

With a choked gasp, Hongjoong buries his head in your stomach. His shoulders shake as a single, heavy sob echoes through the throne room. You drop your hands onto his shoulders, causing a pleased shiver to roll down Hongjoong’s spine. He attempts to press himself closer and you allow him.

The pit in your stomach had left the moment the High King placed his hands on your skin. The anxiety was replaced with a sense of nostalgia and warmth. The lovestruck look on Hongjoong’s face was enough to wipe any sense of fear or worry from your being.

With a gentle stroke of your hand through the king’s hair, Hongjoong pulls his head from your stomach. He allows himself to drink in your features again, another smile reaching his lips. This one is less pained, but there are tear tracks on his cheeks that you long to wipe away.

You allow yourself to softly stroke your thumb along his cheek, wiping a tear away as you sink into the warm haze that surrounds the room. It’s heavy and feels remarkably familiar, and you want to question it. However, you can’t bring yourself to look away from Hongjoong at this moment.

The other demons are looking on with a light, blissful feeling in their hearts. Yunho leans into Mingi, resting his weight against his lover in order to keep himself standing. The two are starry-eyed, letting their leader have his moment before they long to take his place. Seonghwa has wrapped himself around Wooyoung, the younger of the two still sporting a smug look. Yeosang is at his other side, his arm wrapped around Wooyoung’s waist. Pinching his side, Yeosang can’t keep the grin off his cheeks. Jongho rests beside the trio, still seated in his chair but a look of awe on his features. He's leaned forward, hands grasping the arm rests of his throne, allowing himself to take in your form with butterflies in his stomach.

There’s a silent click as the ninth piece of the puzzle completely slides into place. It’s a feeling that relieves every note of tension in your skin and pushes aside every worry you’ve ever conceived. A feeling of immense relief falls onto your shoulders as the empty longing in your chest is suddenly filled. It seems as though you’ve found what you were searching for.

With a watery smile, Hongjoong allows himself to speak for the first time since your arrival.

“Oh, my love,” he nearly whimpers, “I pray to every damn god I’ve shamed - no soul, dead or alive, will ever touch you - ever again.”

It’s about six weeks later, you meet your first angel.

The boys had been a little vague about your reincarnation when you’d asked. When a solemn look passed over Seonghwa’s eyes and his face hardened in a look of sorrow, you simply rubbed your hand across his jaw and apologized. The others had a similar reaction: expressions of great pain and grief, some even shedding tears as they tried to explain what they could.

All you know is that it had something to do with the angels.

The guardians of the celestial gates are apparently not what they seem.

While most human literature paints the picture of a heavenly being of only good intentions, angels apparently have a much darker side that humans have not yet seen.

Jongho’s mouth pulls into a slight snarl, the corner of his lip raised as he mirthfully recounts what he knows about the creatures. He’s laid across your lap, your hands in his hair as he speaks. It’s a little silly, with how peaceful he looks when your fingernails scraping gently against his scalp and his lips downturned into a frown.

The youngest of the demon lords is weak for head scratches, it seems.

While he may not enjoy much of the physical affection the others savor, Jongho does melt once your nails scratch his scalp. He’s even taken to whining gently when you refuse to play with his hair, nudging your legs with his head like a cat and softly begging for you to continue.

“The angels are more like your human-world ‘demons,’” Jongho begins explaining. “Everything you’ve read about demons is usually a stereotype that fits the angels much better.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, mystified by the misidentified creatures. “How so?”

Jongho’s eyes close as he keens into your touch.

“Well, the angels think they’re superior to all other creatures - they think all other creations should worship their kind. They also safeguard the Gates of Celestia, and in order to keep their white heavens pure, they’ve taken to slaughtering most other creatures.”

Jongho nearly spits the word: pure. There’s lingering hatred and disgust in his voice.

Your jaw drops as the information processes. Hands stilling, you go quiet as you try to connect the angel’s brutality to the vague story of your reincarnation.

You’ve died before. Hongjoong had explained that you were separated from them once by death. He had once again been ambiguous with the details, but he had lamented about the grief he and the other demon lords had encountered.

The severance of your bond from their chests had been more painful than anything any had experienced. When the bond had snapped, it felt as if a piece of their hearts had been carved out alongside it; taking with you their hope and much of their joy. They’d been melancholy and extraordinarily lonesome for the years that followed.

It had taken decades for them to manage the empty pain that settled in their guts. The missing bond left a gaping wound that they feared would never heal. The severance had made a home in their guts, singing of their lost love and mourning her unfortunate demise.

Grief and self-hatred became commonplace amongst the palace. Each of the eight demons had taken some sort of fault for the incident. They blamed themselves for your demise - often lamenting in their inability to protect you as they had promised.

You could sometimes feel the internal turmoil through the bond.

However you didn’t blame them. You may not have known the full story, but you knew that you could never, in any capacity, blame them for your untimely demise.

With the euphoric rush of love through your veins and the lovestruck, giddy look in their eyes, you know that there was not a single ounce of deceit in these demons. Their eyes followed you around the room, gentle smiles on their cheeks and bodies leaning into each other. They were careful with you, always dropping everything to return to your side should you need help. The demons even ensured that they lessen any burdens that weighed heavily on you, taking the hardships onto their own shoulders when they could.

You could never find it in yourself to blame them.

When you returned their look of sappy love, their cheeks reddened as they turned away. Despite spending years basking in your presence in a previous life, it still seemed they were weak for your sweet eyes.

Under your still fingers, Jongho looks up at you. He tilts his head back into your hands when he notices your spaced expression, nudging you back into reality. Jongho, ever observant, is usually the first to notice when you drift into a ‘spaced out’ expression. He takes great care in gently bringing you back to reality, knowing that startling you may scare you or disrupt your peace.

“Hey, Lovely -” he hums gently. His voice is sweet and soft, bringing your attention back to his tender features. “You’re safe here, you know that?”

Jongho’s hand reaches up from his position. He settles it against your cheek, fingers stroking the soft skin to turn your eyes to meet his. You can feel the waves of comfort he’s sending through your bond, letting the warmth surround you like a blanket.

You nod tenderly in response.

“I know, Stinky” you tease, pinching his cheek. Feeling a little giddy, you continue teasing the demon, laughing when he swats at your hands.

“I was trying to be sweet!” He whines, lips pouted. “ - and you call me ‘Stinky?’”

You dissolve into giggles again, leaning forward as you clutch your middle. Jongho has sat up, looking at you indignantly. Still laughing, you wiggle away from Jongho’s fingers as he reaches out to tickle you.

Trying to escape the couch you’re positioned on, you wiggle against Jongho’s grasp. You’re no match for his strength, your struggle seemingly useless against his demonic stature.

When Seonghwa descends into the room, you reach out for him with a cry.

“Hwa! Save me, my Love!”

The eldest is grinning, fangs poking out of his gums in sharp points. He’s laughing, having heard your whined struggle from the other room. With his arms crossed, he leans against the door frame and watches as you wiggle to escape Jongho’s fingers.

He shakes his head, letting Jongho continue his torment as the others slowly enter the room.

Mingi is the one to save you, lifting your body from Jongho’s grasp and throwing you over his shoulder. You squeal, hands bracing themselves on Mingi’s side to balance yourself. Laughter fills the room as the demon lords watch their lovers giggle, hearts full and chests filled with warmth.

You recall the recent memory fondly as you peruse through the towering library of the palace. Seonghwa had promised to join you later, finishing his princely duties to read on the large sofa hidden within the shelves of books.

Running your fingers across the spines, you marvel at the old books. Many of them are in languages you don’t understand, nor could you even fathom. Regardless, you enjoy feeling the worn books under your fingertips and smelling the scent of paper, both new and old.

When you turn a corner of the labyrinth of a library, you’re met with an unfamiliar face.

There's a man standing between the shelves in front of you. He’s tall, incredibly so, with pale white skin and golden eyes. With more sets of wings than you can count and numerous pairs of eyes on appendages that shouldn’t exist, you are appalled by the creature.

Taking a step back with a stuttering heart, you place your hand over your chest.

The creature seems to be looking at you, but with tens of eyes pointed in different directions, it’s hard to tell. In their hands, is a pointed white spear. The tip is a scarlet red, and you can’t tell if it’s coated in blood or if the spear’s natural color dons the crimson hue.

Either way, you don’t think you want to find out.

After a beat of terrifying silence, you dawdle on your feet, wondering if you should take off in a sprint. Seonghwa can’t be far. He promised to join you soon, so you know he’ll likely be headed in your direction soon. However, you wonder how long it will take to find you. After wandering through the library for a few minutes, Seonghwa may have to maneuver the winding aisles to search for you.

Before you can move, the creature’s mouth pries open in a terrifying blood red gape.

“What a foul excuse of a reincarnation.”

The voice is garbled, deep and ominous, as if it isn’t used to speaking in the human tongue. You can barely decipher the words, but as the creature’s hand moves to twist the spear, you don’t wait to find out the next ones.

Already turning over your shoulder, you take off into the maze of the library, hoping to lose the creature behind you.

Heart stuttering and feet slipping on the hardwood floor, you puff out another breath as you sprint. Stomach in knots, you can feel bile rise into your throat and you choke as you try to swallow. Unsure of the nature of the creature, you panic as you slide through the winding hallways that the library maintains.

Books upon books fly past your eyes as you scan for some sort of help. There’s thundering footsteps behind you and the scrape of something metal across the floor. You choke out a sob, heart squeezing in terror.

Jongho’s words fill your head as you recall the memory of his description of angels. While you can’t be sure, you’re almost certain the creature hunting you is one of the heavenly terrors Jongho had described.

You don’t know why it’s after you, nor do you know why it wants to hurt you. All you know is the creature has begun to chase you, its gaping red mouth screeching as you flee.

Feet thundering across the floors, you feel your body weaken as the sprint drains your energy. You huff again, trying to continue pushing yourself through the library. Heart still swollen and terrified, you attempt to send some sort of panic down the bonds you hold.

You’re unsure how to do so, the description of such methods had confused you immensely. However, you can’t manage to do much else as you continue to slide through the halls with the angelic creature on your heels. The sounds of books hitting the floor behind you fill your ears, likely being knocked over in the creature’s pursuit.

Luck is not on your side.

You don’t know the aisles of the library well, always needing Seonghwa or another of your lovers to guide you through the labyrinth. It won’t be long before you are boxed into a dead end.

With a tremendous gulp of air, you attempt to hold in a sob that chokes you.

“Call out my name,” you remember San’s sweet words upon your first meeting. “I’ll always be there.”

Tears finally begin to leak from your eyes, you allow the sobs to escape. Salt fills your mouth as the tears seep into your lips. Before you can cry out for San, a heavy force is knocking the wind from your lungs. Thrown violently into the bookshelf across the room, a screech echoes through the halls as the impact pulses through your ribs.

Feeling the bones shift and possibly shatter, you cry out in pain. Slamming into the ground, your body heavy and pained, you lay limp. You want to fight, raising your head to face the horrifying creature, but there’s blood on your lips. There’s a ringing in your ears and every shift of your ribs sends a bolt of pain through your body.

Head dropping onto the hardwood, you heave a breath. Trying to keep your breathing steady and minimize the pain, you can’t keep your eyes on the creature as it descends towards you.

Bile and blood in your throat, you spit at the creature’s feet.

“Disgusting,” the horrifying voice churns out.

You whimper. One of its feet pushes your head into the floor, it’s hand shifting the heavy spear in their grasp. Heaving, you try to struggle, tears still leaking from your eyes.

Crying out again, you squeeze your fists, struggling against the pain of your ribs. There’s rising panic still echoing through your chest and you can’t breathe. The pain in your ribs is too much and the tremendous fear has grasped hold of your lungs. With blood on your lips, you cry out one last time.

“San!”

The creature stills.

Its spear is raised over their head, poised to puncture your throat. With eyes shifting and humming violently, it appears to be nervous. It screeches a terrible sound, the note sending a cold shiver through your bones as you prepare to die. Your lungs are tight, no breath able to escape the cramped space. There’s an immense rush of thoughts in your head, but none of them are solitary. You can’t seem to think despite the influx of information racing around your consciousness.

With eyes squeezed shut, you don’t see the barreling dark form crash through the library.

Dark wings with a flash of white crash into the pale ones. A horrid screech echoes through the halls as bodies collide. Pressure is lifted from your skull, but you can’t bring your limp form to turn to watch the commotion.

A demonic snarl fills the space. The noise is familiar, a shuddering reaction taking over your skin. Goosebumps rise on your arms as the sound strikes a chord in your chest. It’s not a reaction of fear; the sound nearly seeks to soothe you, in fact.

Though it is filled with righteous anger, the snarl does not threaten you.

With weary eyes, your tiled head manages to peak a glimpse of familiar wings. There’s a form crouched over your limp one. It’s a possessive stance, their tail flicking to and from as they hover over your wounded body. A hand slips over your hip, tender despite their tense muscles. They soothingly stroke the skin at your side, chest still snarling as they do so.

Entire body covering yours, your chest finally sags with some form of relief.

San has come.

His body hovers over yours, tense and ready to pounce should the angel move to strike once more. His muscles are incredibly tight, holding himself above you in a protective stance. He aches to lower himself more, press his skin into yours so that the angel’s numerous eyes can’t see you anymore.

San is anxious. His chest is tight with fear and head filled with an angry sort of lust that aches to tear into the angel that is raising itself onto its hands. Across the room, it shoves the books that have fallen away from itself. It’s clicking in some horrid sort of sound, and San presses closer to you, if at all possible.

A growl echoes out of San’s chest, and you can feel the sound vibrate into your own back. San is furious. His tail flicks and whips against the ground and his wings extend to their full length. Blocking out the light from the sun, the angel is exposed to San’s true form.

Eyes faded to a pure black, there is no white in San’s eyes. Fangs elongated and claws extended in a dark ominous color, San is truly demonic. There’s an aura of tremendous danger emanating from his body, but it does not reach you.

Instead, you allow your heavy body to sink into the protective warmth San has pressed against you.

As the angel moves to stand, another form barrels into the library.

In a flash of light, two more demons are at San’s side. A dragon-like tail is sliding over your legs, the texture soothing despite the cold feeling. It tightens over your thighs, ensuring that it doesn’t aggravate any wounded skin. A set of feathered wings hovers over the three of you. The ebony silken feathers settle onto your skin, a soothing touch of comfort as they too extend fully.

Yeosang and Wooyoung crouch at San’s side. Their eyes an ebony black, both demons an image of true ferocity.

The third body is Jongho’s. The scarlet tips of his massive wings seem to drip with blood as the crimson blends with the black. His tail slithers along the hardwood, the barb seeping a dark red venom as it slides across the floor.

Jongho is standing above the angel, daring it to move.

When you try to raise your head, a gentle shushing rings above your ears. A tender hand presses your weary body back down.

“S’alright, my Star - lie still.”

The command comes from Seonghwa’s deep voice. You don't know when he’d entered the library, too dazed and in pain to focus on much other than your heavy breathing. He’s settled at your side, humming gentle to soothe you as you whimper.

Seonghwa’s true form is still hidden, rationality at the forefront of his mind when his eyes fell on your wounded body. With his stomach in his throat, Seonghwa kneels at your side. He’d been alerted to your panic on his way to the library, an immense rush of fear nearly bringing him to his knees. When he’d lunged to follow your cry, Seonghwa had felt San teleport to your side. Soothed by the knowledge of one of his lovers protecting you, Seonghwa allowed himself to approach your wounded body, despite the rage rising into his chest.

He runs his fingers over your ribs as you weep, gentle hushes falling from his lips.

“M’so sorry, my Love - just a little longer. You’re doing so well for me.”

You sink into the rush of protective heat that enters your veins, allowing Seonghwa’s bond to fill the forefront of your mind. When focused on his bond, the pain lessens in your ribcage.

There are more rushed footsteps entering the hall, feet slamming into the floor and wind slamming into the walls as wings flap furiously.

Yunho and Mingi join Jongho’s side, their worried eyes shifting to you as they pin the angel to the floor. It struggles under their grasp, too weak against the demon lords’ strength. Screeching violently, it thrashes when their grip tightens. Yunho’s claws draw blood, the golden ichor dripping from the terrifying creature. Mingi’s fangs press into his lips, aching to sink them into its skin in an act of vengeance. There’s an anger pressing into his chest, suffocating him from the inside.

At the sight of your broken form, neither demon could resist the vengeance.

A slow, ominous set of footsteps approach the fallen form of the angel.

You can’t see him with your limp form gently hoisted into Yeosang’s strong grasp. Seonghwa has shifted you, pressing your wounded form into his lover’s arms as he uses healing magic to soothe the minor scrapes and bruises. Your ribs were broken, an injury more suited for Hongjoong’s immense healing magic.

However, while Hongjoong is busy, Seonghwa is complacent as he heals what he can. You whimper into Yeosang’s chest, the demon running his hands through your hair.

“S’alright, Dear - just a moment more, I promise.” Yeosang’s honeyed voice settles a cloud of comfort over you, distracting you from both the pain and the scene before you.

Hongjoong has stopped at the feet of the struggling angel.

His true form reeks of a terrifying aura. It nearly emanates from his skin, the darkened ichor of his wings spread to their full length. The gold dripping over the humongous clawed tip of each wing is now blessed with darkened rubies - their crimson shine blocking the sunlight from reaching the angel’s form. His claws are long, clicking as he crouches to grasp the angel’s face between them.

Hongjoong’s lips are pulled into a snarl, fangs peaking over the edges. They drip with the same venom that runs through Jongho’s tail, ominously sizzling when it hits the angel’s skin. It appears to burn the creature, terrified howls escaping its jaws.

Yeosang presses your face further into your chest. San and Wooyoung at his side slide to cover the scene with their bodies.

“Don’t look, my Love. You’re safe now.”

There’s a guttural, angry growl of a demonic, infernal language that you don’t understand. Hongjoong’s voice is warped as he speaks in the hellish tongue. You can’t see him, but the anger that suffocates Hongjoong’s chest melts into yours.

You want to soothe him - or at least let him know you’re alright. However, with your injured body in Yeosang’s grasp, all you can do is send waves of comfort down your bond.

You don’t see the subtle relaxation of Hongjoong’s shoulders, but the others do.

Seonghwa silently ushers Yeosang to stand, pulling the three of you from the room. San and Wooyoung, satisfied by your safety, descend upon the angel’s form. The protective rage fills the room in a suffocating cloud.

When the door to the library slams shut behind you, you hear Hongjoong’s final words.

“Impudent fool. Say hello to Michael for me.”

Then, fangs sink into skin and a sickening sound of bones snapping echo through the halls.

Weeks later, after Hongjoong - the High King of Hell - has ensured your safety once more, you settle into the palace.

The eight demons had spent weeks apologizing for their inability to protect you before the angel impeded on their palace. You had hushed their protests, gently soothing each of them and explaining that you were simply grateful for your safety.

San had cried the night after the incident, staying up after you’d fallen unconscious. Pressing his teary eyes into your skin, he recalls the fear in your voice when he’d heard the call of his name. Clutching your hands tightly, San promises to never leave your side.

Seonghwa would pull him away later, passing his form into Yunho’s arms. The taller man simply held his lover tightly, pressing a kiss to San’s forehead.

The eight are more cautious of your safety now. You’re nearly always accompanied by at least one of your lovers, but you don’t mind their presence. They’re not willing to risk losing you a second time.

In the back of your mind, you question your sanity. A few weeks ago, you never would have expected to be living in the depths of Hell, let alone in a relationship with eight of the rulers of its domains. However, after experiencing the bond, and accepting the connection between you and the demons, you can’t imagine your life elsewhere.

The demons treat you like a queen - Hongjoong even often calls you such. They’ve fallen back into practiced routines, already seemingly knowing most of your common mannerisms. After decades together in the past, the eight demons are well aware of every piece of your mind and body.

In fact, they’ve taken to enjoying re-experiencing much of your memories.

After confirming that your ribs had healed nicely, the demons had become increasingly more affectionate. They could hardly stand to let their fingers leave your skin, always brushing a hand across your arms or running them through your hair to feel you melt into their sides.

Yeosang, a demon you had first taken to be quite shy, is more conniving than you thought.

He, often alongside San and Wooyoung, loves nothing more than watching your body melt with their words and touches. They adore the way you whine when they whisper something sultry, or turn away with heat in your cheeks when they drag their hand down your spine.

Yeosang in particular, likes to wrap his dragon-like tail around your thigh - a motion that sends a bolt of arousal into your gut. As you’re still learning to control the emotions you send down the bond, Yeosang revels in the heat of arousal that lingers in your stomach as he tightens the appendage around your upper thigh.

He smirks, and you nearly whine when San runs his fingernails across your scalp as he does so. Hongjoong is usually the one to end your suffering, pulling the tricksters away with a happy smile, lingering in the smell of your arousal and the woozy, embarrassed smile on your cheeks.

“That’s enough, you two,” the High King chuckles.

However, he can’t help running his hand across your throat, passing a few fresh, purple marks as he does so. You lean into his hands, and Hongjoong loves the way you tilt your head back to look at him.

It seems all eight of the rulers of Hell have a thing for corruption.

Yunho and Mingi are the least likely to tease you on a daily basis. While they both enjoy your flustered smiles and bashful eyes, both of the taller demons also have taken to becoming your protectors when you’re feeling shy.

Mingi is the one to pull you into his chest, letting you bury your face to hide from prying eyes. He pouts, feeling a swell of protective excitement enter his chest. Mingi would giggle, a giddy smile overtaking his features as he locked eyes with his other lovers.

Yunho follows a similar pattern. The tallest of the eight demons, with his supernatural size and strength, adores hoisting your form over his shoulder and dragging you away from the teasing. Yunho’s body shakes with laughter as you squeal, his big hands gripping your thighs and stabilizing your form so that you don’t fall. Yunho loves the rush of adrenaline that surges through his skin as he grips you tight.

If you pat your fists on his back in an effort to escape his hold, Yunho simply pats his massive palm across your ass. The motion usually results in another squeal, which sends a pang of arousal into Yunho’s stomach.

Seonghwa, the eldest of the demon lords, expresses his love both physically and emotionally. He prefers acts of service and words of affirmation in comparison to many of his other lovers. Seonghwa, however, is still incredibly affectionate. It’s much less obvious than some of the other demons, but Seonghwa still craves your fingers on his skin.

He’s often seen wrapping a wing around you as you walk, or his tail wrapped around your ankle as you sit. His affection is subtle, nearly missed in most circumstances.

Seonghwa, however, is also incredibly possessive, you’ve learned.

After the incident, a sinking feeling pangs through his gut at the thought of strangers growing too close. He’s usually fine with other demons he trusts; however, he’d be dead in his grave before he’d let another angel within a mile of your form.

When approached by a lower demon, Seonghwa had pulled you into his lap on his throne. His palm lay across your stomach, possessively spread as he pulled you back into his chest. The eldest demon nearly growled when eyes fell on your neck. However, instead of acting irrationally, Seonghwa simply tilted your head back against him.

Your hair fell away from your neck, allowing the lower demon to see the faint marks of hickies sucked into your skin. One look from the lower level demon had him turning away.

Jongho, on the other hand, is less physically affectionate. You don’t have any issue with this - in fact, you’ve come to appreciate it. While you do consider yourself touch-starved, you also can be slightly touch-averse in most situations. Though you crave the touch of your demon soulmates, sometimes you can’t help but shrink away when their hands reach for you. It’s unconscious, a movement that you can’t necessarily prevent no matter what you try.

When these moments occur and the idea of physical touch is too overstimulating, Jongho completely understands. The others have no issue as well, but San can’t help but pout when he can’t snuggle his body into your side.

With Jongho, the youngest of the demon rulers, your love is apparent in different languages. The both of you turn to quality time and acts of service to express your care for each other. Simply sitting in the same room, doing your own tasks, is enough for the two of you.

However, that doesn’t mean that Jongho is any less conniving than the other boys.

In fact, it was his mischievous nature that resulted in your current position.

Earlier that morning, Jongho and the other three teasing demons had nearly sent you over the edge. The trio had convinced Jongho to join their games, allowing the younger to whisper sultry remarks over breakfast, his voice quiet enough so that only you would hear.

Not used to Jongho’s forwardness, you weakened at the knees.

Running his strong hands over your waist to keep you steady, Jongho smirked at the shiver that wracked your body.

“You doing okay, Pretty?”

Though he knows the answer, Jongho greatly enjoys watching you melt at the name.

Quickly following the youngest, Yeosang had followed with his own teasing. His head tilted back and body leaned against the door frame, Yeosang looked delicious in his slightly opened shirt. He had his arms crossed over his chest, uttering small hums of agreement as you spoke.

When you turned to ask him about his breakfast, Yeosang leaned forward. His head nearly bumping yours, Yeosang’s frame towered over yours. His wings spread wide, allowing you to take in his demonic glory, Yeosang swung his tail over your waist.

Using the appendage as leverage, he yanked your form towards him with a strong pull.

Crashing into his chest, Yeosang smirked at your squeak. Your ears heated in embarrassment, face turning away to avoid his sultry eyes. His tail tightened around your waist, his head angled down to look at you.

“M’sorry, Baby.” His honeyed voice purrs. Yeosang drops a hand to stroke low over your hip and dip inward into your upper thigh. “I was under the impression you were breakfast.”

Your jaw falls open at the remark, stunned at the usually quiet boy’s demeanor. Yeosang resists a giggle, feeling your arousal and shock filter through the bond. Instead of teasing you further, he presses a kiss to your cheek and backs out of the room, allowing San and Wooyoung to take his place.

Over the rest of the day, San and Wooyoung join the boy’s teasing. The two’s teasing is worse since you’re forced to ward off two lusty demons rather than just one.

For hours, you can’t escape them.

They’re handsy and fervent, refusing to take their hands off your body. Lips pressed to any bare skin they can reach, your skin continues to heat until you worry you’ll pass out.

Finally, when you’re given a moment alone, you plot your revenge.

Digging underneath your bed, you pull out a box hidden under the depths of the huge mattress. After ordering the parcel, you’d hidden it away, hoping to keep prying eyes away from the contents. It’s light in your hands, and when you pry the life off, a smirk graces your features as you take in the fabric.

You struggle into the fabric, letting the straps snap against your thighs and the lace cover the barest of skin. The black material is thin, not really allowing any of your form to be covered. However, the twisting red flowers descend through the lace, hiding some more intimate areas from view. While not entirely covered, you know the barest of glimpse is enough to have them drooling.

With the other necessary tools at your side, you descend to the main common room of the palace.

No one is within the barren space, which you’re grateful for, but you know you don’t have much time. Placing the other materials at your feet, you take out the jar of salt.

Sprinkling the salt in a thick line around your body, you begin to form a circle. You’re certain this method will work, even going so far as to confirm with a witch you’d recently befriended. She assured you the salt circle was enough to keep even the High King from entering the space.

Once you're satisfied with your little space, you sit back against the lounge chair you placed in the center. With a hum, you fiddle with the water and snacks you’ve brought along with you. You’ve ensured that you have enough materials to last you at least a few hours within the confines of your new space. Your phone is fully charged and a new book at your side, you relax back into the dark cushions of the velvet beneath you.

It’s only a few moments before the first of your demon lovers enters the room.

Wooyoung had been in search of you, ready to continue his teasing from earlier. However, his mouth runs dry and his jaw falls open as his eyes lay onto the sight before him.

Donned in the nicest lingerie you could afford, you lay spread against the cushions of Seonghwa’s lounge chair, eyes focused on the book in your hands. You appear to be ignoring him, not looking up as Wooyoung nearly collapses at his feet.

You can feel the bolt of arousal that Wooyoung can’t keep from radiating into your bond, and you suppress a haughty smirk.

“Oh, seven hells -” Wooyoung curses. He can feel his pants tightening around his crotch, the lace adorning your skin doing horrible things to his mind and body.

Stepping forward, Wooyoung descends on your space, only to shout an indignant cry when the circle of salt restricts his access. The two-toned demon nearly snarls when he looks down at his feet.

The white circle of salt lays menacingly before him, nearly teasing the demon.

Looking up from your book, you finally allow a smirk to don your features.

“What’s wrong, Woo?” you simper, trying to mimic his earlier teasing tone.

At your voice, Wooyoung allows his chest to release the snarl he’d held back. Heaving a breath, the demon’s wings shudder in some sort of repressed arousal.

“Baby -” Wooyoung purrs, dragging out the last syllable in a tone that wets the fabric between your thighs. “Let me in.”

You giggle, letting the book fall into your lap as you look at Wooyoung. Shaking your head once, you gesture to the salt surrounding you, a pleased smile on your face. You’re more than glad that your plan has settled into place perfectly.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, my Prince.”

The name sends another shiver through Wooyoung’s entire being, and you smirk again, knowing the effect the name has on him.

Wooyoung presses his fists against the invisible barrier, eyes darkening in a dangerous arousal. You know if you leave the safety of your circle, Wooyoung will chase you down like a predator. You’re the only thing his eyes can see, the darkening irises acknowledging his lust.

He flits his eyes across the circle, trying to pinpoint the weakest area. However, you’ve made sure to enforce the salt in a thick layer, ensuring that not even the High King could penetrate your space.

With an enraged snarl, Wooyoung begins to pace the outside of the circle. His wings puff up in a dangerous gust of wind, eyes never leaving your bare skin. The two-toned demon’s hair begins to fall from its half-up style as he shakes his head in some sort of aroused anger. It frames his face nicely, making him look even more breathtaking than before.

In his anger, he doesn’t notice San and Seonghwa approaching from behind.

Their reactions are similar to the raging demon before them. Wide eyes and opened jaws, you nearly giggle at their awestruck expressions. Seonghwa is the first to spot the salt circle, a breathy huff escaping his chest. He toes the line, testing its integrity. A scoff fills the room when it does not bend to his power.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Darling.”

San’s voice has dropped into a lower tone, one you know is reserved for more salacious encounters. You’ve heard the tone on several occasions, so the timbre of his voice melts your carefully crafted demeanor. San knows the effect his voice has on you, watching as a suppressed shiver overtakes your body and sends goosebumps up your arms.

San hopes that he can weaken your resolve enough to allow his entrance - pulling out all the moves he knows make you wobble at the knees.

You hold out, shifting your attention back to your book in order to appear indifferent. The motion makes San frown, his plan to break your resolve seemingly failing.

San joins Wooyong’s pacing, the two lustful demons appearing predatory as they continue to scan your form with dark eyes.

“Oh, you fuckin’ tease” The voice echoes from the doorway. Yeosang has entered the room, Yunho and Mingi at his sides. The taller boys are pressed together, Yunho stepping forward as if he’s not sure if what he’s seeing is real.

Only Hongjoong and Jongho are missing from the group, though the High King is likely the only one who hasn’t teased you that afternoon.

With the others approaching your little space, you extend your body to be seen by their prying eyes, feeling like prey under their hungry gazes. You don’t mind, the arousal in your gut simmering as you feel content in your well-executed revenge.

“Let me in, Pretty Baby” San hums. He’s still pacing around the edge of your little domain, voice hungry and pants tight. “M’gonna fuckin’ ruin you. Gonna let me?”

You hum happily, knowing you’ve riled San up to his maximum. His darkened eyes and puffy wings are evident of his arousal. He preens under your gaze, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. San wants to feel your smooth skin under his palms and graze the lace of your pretty lingerie with his fingers. Fuck - he wants to pull away the little strings of fabric with his teeth.

Yeosang is at the edge of the salt now, joining his little teasing trio from earlier. “Our little tease,” he simpers. “You’re real good at getting whatcha’ want, aren’t ya?”

Another happy hum vibrates through your chest.

“Maybe.”

A growl follows your happy sound, Yeosang’s scaled tail sliding across the floor as it flicks in a barely concealed anger.

“Pretty fuckin’ baby,” Mingi sings. He’s held back, still at Yunho’s side. The two are not necessarily on your ‘hit’ list. The two, alongside Hongjoong, were the least likely to tease you today, however your revenge plot sadly has to include them. The salt circle isn’t partial to its denial, no matter how forgiving you are.

The six demons continue to gaze into your tiny domain, letting their eyes dry over your exposed flesh as they ache to touch. There’s several strings of arousal echoing down your bonds, but you manage to ignore them for now.

When Hongjoong enters the room with Jongho behind him, all he sees is six demonic forms blocking his sight. He can’t see around their bodies, impervious to their arousal.

“S’going on in here?”

Faces turn to look at the High King, his gold-adorned wings glittering in the light. Yunho and Mingi step aside, letting their leader’s eyes fall to your sultry form.

Body draped in the most elegant lingerie he’s ever seen, Hongjoong’s face melts into a haughty smirk. He can’t tear his eyes from the lace, scanning you head to toe and back again. With darkened eyes, Hongjoong looks a little intimidating. Ebony wings expanded, Hongjoong looks every bit the picture of a succubus.

He stalks forward, the boys parting for his entrance. Standing at the precipice of your tiny territory, Hongjoong’s nearly feral gaze sends a bolt of arousal into your already lustful gut. The High King has never looked more ravishing than he does now. His dark clothing clings to his skin, defining his muscles. The fangs pressed into his lips are gaudy, Hongjoong’s tongue flicking over their points.

Your eyes now fixed on Hongjoong, the book finally falls to the floor. Hitting the ground with an audible ‘thump,’ the other demon lords watch as your attention becomes transfixed on their High King. You wish you could resist his whims, but you’re just as weak as the rest when it comes to Kim Hongjoong.

“Our Little Love,” Hongjoong hums. “S’got you all cooped up?”

He toes the line as Seonghwa had, feeling it wane at his strength. It still holds fast, the witch’s confirmation holding true. While it may wither at Hongjoong’s power, it still manages to persevere, keeping your body away from their aching touch.

“Sannie and the others were mean t’me today,” you whine, turning in your seat. Rubbing your thighs together, you try to appear indifferent, but you’re sure they’ve caught a whiff of your scent by now. The evidence is apparent in Wooyoung’s puff, his chest swelling with another faint growl.

“Hmm - were they?” Hongjoong deepened timbre purrs. “Did I bother you too, Pretty Baby?”

“No, Joongie.”

Your response is quick, always ready to respond to your High King.

Hongjoong hums again happily. A pulse of delighted excitement throbs from his end of the bond.

“Boys.”

Seven heads snap his way. Despite their craving to keep their sights on you, all seven princes know their High King’s command is absolute.

“Leave.”

The command is quick, leaving no room for argument.

Wooyoung and San nearly whine in disagreement, bodies sagging with a near growl. However, hidden from your eyes, Hongjoong throws a look over his shoulder. It’s suspicious - a knowing look of agreement on his features. There’s a plot afoot, a silent accord passing through eight demons.

Seonghwa shoves the younger boys out the door, sending his king a salacious look over his shoulder.

When Hongjoong turns back to you, his tongue flicks over his fangs.

“C’mere, Sweetheart. You're not mad at Joongie, are ya?”

You shake your head softly, already leaning forward off the plush chair. Hongjoong’s smirk widens, eyelids falling closed in a haughty look. He holds his hand out as another wave of arousal pulses through your bond. Wings shuddering, Hongjoong lets his head fall back as his eyes close.

Humming pleasantly, Hongjoong beckons you closer, watching your wary eyes fall to his fingers. You throw a look over his shoulder at the closed door, ensuring the others have fully left the room.

When you slide off the cushions, Hongjoong’s eyes seem to darken even further.

“S’it, Pretty Girl. Wanna’ kiss ya’ -” he muses, “Gonna’ let me?”

You nod fervently, feet dawdling to the edge of the salt. You hesitate at the edge, still leery to the trap you’re certain Hongjoong has laid. However, at Hongjoong’s gentle praising, you don’t think you have the will to resist much longer.

When your hand just crosses the border of salt, reaching for Hongjoong’s, he’s already grasped ahold of your fingers. He pulls you quick and tight against his chest, humming happily at the squeak of surprise. Your lace clad body presses snuggly against his front, and Hongjoong’s head knocks back as he feels your chest rub against his own.

Unable to struggle against his firm grip, you let out a little whimper when Hongjoong’s hands begin to wander. They drop to your sides, fingering the lace at your hips. He slides his fore fingers under the straps, stroking the bare skin with tender caresses. With a deep growl, Hongjoong presses your crotch against his own, eliciting a whine when something thick brushes against your inner thighs.

With your head turning cloudy, Hongjoong drops his head to suck gently on your throat. You whine, throwing your head back further to allow him to nibble tender with his fangs.

“Pretty girl,” the High King purrs, “Gonna fuck you stupid, my love.”

His promise weakens your knees and you find yourself sagging against his form. Before Hongjoong can suck another red mark into your skin, the sound of the door opening fills your ears.

A small part of you recognizes the con, attempting to pry yourself from Hongjoong’s grasp to throw yourself back into the salt circle. However, Hongjoong’s fingers are tight, resisting the struggle and chuckling as you whine. The sound even makes his head roll back as he savors in the sound.

Before you can gather more strength to break free, there’s another body pressed against your back. They push you snuggly into Hongjoong’s chest, their own vibrating with a deep chuckle. You can tell from the form of his chest, and the deep timbre of their voice, that the form behind you is San’s. There’s more hands grasping your skin, prying lace away from your body as you struggle.

The air is heavy with arousal and there’s a pooling in your panties. Fingers swipe against the material, eliciting a stuttered gasp from your chest. Another chuckle fills the air and a tail wraps tightly around your waist - Yeosang.

San’s hands are around your breasts, pulling at the nipples through the thin, barely-there fabric. He keens at your next whine, letting his body take your weight when you lean into his hands. Yunho, Mingi and Jongho are nearby, hands just as needy as the others. Jongho patiently waits his turn, knowing the reward was far too sweet to hasten.

“Oh, you’re so fucked, my Darling.”

bonus:

ateez, appearing in the reader’s room: my love, why is there a summoning circle on your bed?

reader: I got lonely :((

a/n: what is up my lovely readers?? this fic got a little spicy I guess :o this is about as much smut as I’m willing to write for now, but I hope y’all enjoyed it! Idk if this fic is cohesive at all, it’s kind of just a jumble of thoughts I have about Ateez sometimes, but I hope y’all like it regardless :D <3

2K notes · View notes

kyeomyun · 1 year

Text

2:47 AM

pairings: dad!yunho x gn!reader

genre: fluffy fluff fluff fluff :3

warnings: just yunho and his daughter.... nothing much.

word count: 0.8k

synopsis: it's always the little things that make yunho come to the conclusion that he is truly the luckiest man on earth.

::note: this was just an impulsive write ;-; so ik it sucks :))

Yunho really did take a while to come back in his body after being interrupted from his well-deserved sleep after hearing the loud clash of glass hitting the ground. His mind clattered with the unanswered shower thoughts that swam through his head and foggy with sleep.

The moment Yunho's feet pressed down on the soild wood floor, the goosebumps instantly became making their rightful place on his skin.

Both out of pure alert that someone might have broken in to leave with treasured beauties they will soon just sell off for some green, but also because the floor was freezing.

But now that his brain was more functional and thinking half logical thoughts, he pushed himself out of bed and made sure to make calculated steps to the main area that contained the living room and the kitchen. Each step his feet made was careful as to not creak the false floor board that will let out a high-pitched groan; sure to wake up the whole house.

But the man really didn't know what to expect when he did find himself in the main area.

His mind that painted a masked intruder rummaging through whatever they could get their hands on was soon erased magnificently the moment his eyes made contact with a much more smaller, petite, figure that sat on the edge of the kitchen island.

All he could do was sigh, flicking up the light switch that powered on the kitchen golden glow to finally reveal his daughter putting up a sandwich in a plastic bag and a step stool place right underneath where her feet hanged and dangled.

The little one froze, sandwich midway in the bag as she made eye contact with her father who just stared back at her. A raised eyebrow asking the unspoken question of "why are you awake at almost 3 AM?"

"Garam," started the father, his face unreadable. "Darling, it's late. Why are you up on a school night?" Yunho scanned the tensed shoulders of his little girl, patiently waiting for a response.

"Umm...," The 5-year old hesitated, glancing down at the sliced turkey that sticks out of the 2 slices of bread and the dribble of mustard that made its home on the ziploc. "Making lunch..." The girl paused.

Yunho mouth opened to voice his disapproval since he could have just made a lunch for her in the morning like he always did before she went to school, but he was soon shut down into a puddle after Garam continued running the sentence out of her mouth, "Making a lunch for you,"

The once unreadable expression soon had words splattered all around. Words that expressed pure softness, adoration, every word you will think while looking at a newborn bundled with blankets.

"It's almost done! I just need to write you a note!" Garam squealed out. Hurriedly finishing her mission putting the lone sandwich in its rightful place. Well... before being gobbled down and finding it's rightful place in Yunho's stomach.

Yunho was almost at a loss of words. He couldn't even come to himself to give Garam that parental talk of how unhealthy and brain rotting waking up at such an ungodly time is. All he could do was watch as she laid down the now wrapped sandwich into another, bigger, plastic bag that was full of other foods: An energy drink, a candy bar, pretzel mix, and many more goodies that will power him through majority of the day.

A piece of paper was soon joining the food items in the bag. Garam adjusted herself on her stomach, sliding down on the step stool and reached her arms out for her father.

The greenish puddle mixed with glass and pickles separated the father-daughter duo.

A small shake of his head with a smile as bright as the many stars that casted down appeared once again, Yunho careful to not severaly damage his foot in trying to bring down the small intruder of the night.

"Only read the note at lunch time!" A small pout now present on the girl's face was all it took for him to agree to the simple task at hand.

"And you never wake up at this time again," Yunho remarked right back at Garam to which she just whined and hid her face in the crook of her father's neck.

To say the least, Yunho for sure (sarcastically) enjoyed picking up the mess his daughter made only a few hours after he joined you back in bed and he definitely (not sarcastically) enjoyed when his lunch break came.

Yunho was mid-bite into the smoshed sandwich before a curious Wooyoung appeared behind him, glancing over the older broad shoulders.

"What's the note?" Wooyoung peeked into the bag, up to steal anything that could be hiding inside.

Yunho totally forgot about the small piece of paper Garam mentioned.

But thank god for Wooyoung's sleek attempt to steal any snack he was trying to find because without his careless reminder, he would not have read,

"Why do you have to leave for work again :( i miss you. Work always take you away from me and mommy :( but that's ok! because you make alot and alot and alot of monez! i love you daddy! bai c:"

All Yunho could do was just beam down at the messily written note. His heart swelling with pink ropes of love and rapidly pumping blood through his veins. If you were to see him, you would almost believe hearts made its way to his eyes and visualize the hearts appearing above his head.

The small image of last night. Garam clapping after making her creation for her dad and the small dances while Yunho led her back into her room.

He surely was the luckiest man in the world.

did you enjoy you order?

if so, please reblog, like, (pls), comment, all of that jazz :>

have a good day, sweets hehe ^^

#{🥧} — jada’s recipes ♡#ateez reactions #atz imagines #ateez imagines #atz fanfic #ateez fanfic #yunho x reader #jung yunho x reader #atz yunho #ateez x reader #jung yunho #yunho #ateez

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halesandy · 2 years

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Send me your favorite ATEEZ fics, I'm begging 🙏🏻

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bro-atz · 14 days

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sweetheart

in which: you're the atz frat's newest sweetheart, but first, you gotta go through with the initiation.

pair: frat bros!ateez/afab!reader

word count: 4.2k

content: smut, gang bang, nicknames (they call you sweetheart), (some) drinking, mouth to mouth (you'll understand when you read it), unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL), oral, anal, double/triple penetration, creampies, slight breeding kink, filthy, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: written for the @cultofdionysusnet permevent and for the @atzhouse frat event <3 it seriously was a happy coincidence how this one fic lined up for both events i kid you not

networks: @/atzhouse @cromernet @/cultofdionysusnet @san-network @wonderlandnet

frat bros!ateez: part one | part two

taglist: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @alexwritesfics @dinossaurz @skteezcursed @yessa-vie @minkilicious @isiloiale @ywtfvs @nvdhrzn @sanhwajjong @hyunukitty @startlinglyoongi @bsehindu @woomyteez @sanglix @khjoongie98 my tags have been acting kind of weird lately, so if you didn't get the notif, lmk! apply for the permanent taglist here!

Here’s the thing: you were pretty much already labeled as the ATZ frat sweetheart— and, yes, frat sweethearts are still a thing, and you know that for a fact because you definitely were theirs— since you were the sole being keeping the frat from falling apart. Granted, Hongjoong and Seonghwa put in the work when they had to, but they were so close to the brink of collapse since someone (Wooyoung) submitted the wrong receipts and nearly got the frat shut down by the university due to lack of proper funding use… It was a whole thing.

After you stepped in, though, the frat flourished, and the boys owed you a debt of gratitude, and the wanted to show that gratitude by officially swearing you in as their sweetheart.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Mingi greeted you with his low, rumbling voice as he sat down next to you on the couch. “How are you?”

“Could be better,” you replied with a small smile. “Seonghwa missed my double stuffed Oreos request on the grocery list again.”

“Oh, I did the groceries this week,” Mingi said with a tinge of guilt. “I had no idea you wrote that.”

“That’s okay, Gi! I’ll just rewrite it on the list and underline the shit out of it next time.”

“Still… I feel bad…” Mingi murmured. He leaned towards you and said, “Let me make it up to you.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

Without a response, Mingi placed his hand gently on your knee, his fingers teasing you by pushing your skirt up slightly. He brushed his nose against your ear as he tucked your hair behind your ear, a small, rough sigh leaving his lips and ticking your skin. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your lips slightly parted in anticipation, your eyes fluttering. Mingi flirted with you all the time, and you jokingly would tell him that you would give him a chance if he was being serious, and you felt nothing but serious energy from him at that moment, so yes, you would give him that chance.

“Hey!”

The sound of San’s voice snapped you and Mingi out of your trance, the two of you giving the boy all of your attention.

“Don’t you remember what Hwa said?” San said with a slight frown. “No touching the sweetheart until tonight.”

“Why? What’s tonight?”

“Your initiation, duh,” Wooyoung, who popped up behind San, said matter-of-factly.

You for sure thought Wooyoung was messing with you because you knew that the boys had scheduled a frat party that night, but when the night arrived, you realized he was dead serious. There was no party. Instead, the living room was decorated with an assortment of beers, wines, and hard liquors, and they were all brand new, which freaked you out even more because you had never seen so many unopened, high quality bottles of liquor in the frat house before.

“Joong,” you started, your tone accusatory. “Do not tell me you used frat funds for this…”

“No, sweetheart. We used our personal money for this,” Hongjoong shook his head. “Come. Have a drink.”

You eyed the boy suspiciously, but you joined him in the living room anyway. The second you sat down, he handed you a glass of your favorite red wine— you never told the boys about your favorite wine, so you wondered how on Earth they figured it out in the first place— and willed you to drink it.

The wine warmed you up instantly, and your entire tense body relaxed almost instantly at the familiarity of the hints of black cherry. You sighed softly and relaxed into the couch cushions, only for that relaxation to quickly leave when you realized the eight pairs of eyes boring into your soul.

“W-What…?”

“Choose,” Seonghwa stated softly.

“What…?”

“Choose one of us to start your initiation,” Jongho explained a little further.

“How am I supposed to choose when I don’t even fucking know what this initiation is?!”

“Alright, fine,” San pushed his way past the boys. “I’ll start it for you, then.”

Without a second to waste, San took the wine glass out of your hand and shove it into Hongjoong’s hands before forcefully grabbing your face and bringing it near his. Your entire body jolted with excitement, but in the same breath, you also wanted to slap San and tell him to knock it off, but the way he was holding you made arousal pool in your panties at an alarming rate.

“Welcome to ATZ,” he started, a smirk playing on his lips. “If you really want to be our sweetheart, you’re going to obey our every order, got it?”

You responded with a mere nod, warmth flushing through your extremities. Your body only god hotter when San reached behind him and gestured for someone to hand him a bottle of whatever liquor, and with one hand still on your face, he took a swig from the bottle before immediately connecting his lips to yours. You could taste the sharp burn of vodka hit your tongue and go down your throat, nearly choking you. Yet, the motion itself was erotic enough for you to let the burn somehow turn into pleasure, the giddy feeling inside you getting stronger.

As San’s kisses got more passionate, lingering traces of vodka mixed with your saliva and started dripping down your chins. He moved entirely so he pinned you against the couch cushions, one of his hands choking you lightly while the other grabbed your wrist. You were so sucked into San’s kisses that you didn’t realize that someone had moved to the other side of you and started pulling your skirt down.

“Just relax, sweetheart,” you heard Seonghwa purr into your ear.

Along with your skirt went your panties, leaving your bottom half stark naked. Seonghwa pulled one of your thighs one way while someone else pushed your other thigh the other way. It was when San broke your chain of kisses to start decorating your neck with dark marks did you see Mingi kneeling before you, his tongue dangerously close to your inner thigh. You let out a whimpering sigh when you felt him trail his tongue along your thigh and closer to your cunt, the sigh turning into a slight moan when Seonghwa’s fingers reached for your clit and started drawing circles around it with the pad of his finger.

“I never knew you could make a sound like that, sweetheart,” Hongjoong chuckled as he downed whatever was left of the wine in your glass.

Tilting your head towards him with the tips of his fingers, Hongjoong’s lips met yours softly, leaving you with the sweetest kiss. You cupped his face with one hand while your other reached down to Mingi’s head and grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging backwards while trying to get him to stop licking stripes up and down your pussy. San, meanwhile, lifted your shirt and bra up to reveal your breasts, his lips and Seonghwa’s lips immediately claiming one perky nipple each.

As the four of them ravished you, the other four started feasting away on the alcohol— you can’t expect to leave bottles of alcohol in front of frat bros and expect them not to drink it, now can you?— the beer bottles clattering to the ground and the shot glasses slamming onto the countertop.

All the four men were simply just caressing you, kissing you, but your brain was turning to mush at an alarming rate. You were so out of it that you didn’t even realize that they had gotten all of your clothes off you entirely, leaving all of your skin exposed and ready for the other four to start with you. Yunho had opted to kneel on the ground next to Mingi and caress your legs, his soft fingers trailing across your thigh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Yeosang stood behind the couch and collected your hair for you to hold it back, allowing him to leave kisses along your temple and trail his tongue along your ear. Wooyoung chose to forcibly get your hand out of Mingi’s hair and move it to his crotch so you could cup his slowly stiffening cock through his pants, and Jongho snuck his way onto the couch so he could grope your waist and leave bite marks along the gentle curve of your hip.

“Mingi,” Seonghwa said as he started pushing the boy’s head away from your pussy. “We need to open her up.”

Nodding, Mingi moved away from you, giving Seonghwa the opportunity to slide down and sit between your legs. The other boys started leaving your side one by one as Seonghwa cupped the underside of your thigh and pushed your legs up, your knees pressing against your breasts. Then, you felt his tongue prod into your asshole, making you nearly jump off the couch had it not been for his insane grip on your thighs and Yeosang still holding your hair back.

“H-Hwa, don’t!” you cried. “It’s dirty!”

“Sweetheart, don’t tell me you forgot what I said already,” San tsked.

"Of course I didn't, Sannie, but—"

“No buts,” Yunho, now shirtless, stood before you. “Just go with the flow, sweetheart.”

Gulping, you nodded, allowing Seonghwa to resume. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his tongue prodding once more, your cunt and ass tightening in the process.

"No, sweetheart. You need to relax," Seonghwa murmured.

But you could do anything but relax. So, Yunho decided to help you out. He directed your attention to him and kissed you sweetly, his talented lips clearing out your mind. The way his hand traced the outline of your body as it went up to rest on your neck made your body lean towards him, an erotic sigh leaving your soul as he kissed you more and more passionately with every passing second. Yunho kissing you was enough to distract and relax your body, allowing Seonghwa to open you up as he wanted. He stuck two fingers in your asshole and pulled them apart, making you whine loudly into Yunho’s mouth.

As the two worked on you, the rest of the frat took the opportunity to strip themselves down, low grunts and moans rippling through them as they started stroking themselves. Once Seonghwa deemed you stretched out enough, he got up and shed his own clothes while Yunho choked you lightly as he moved you down from the couch so that you were kneeling before the eight of them.

“Alright, sweetheart. Suck,” San ordered as he slapped his thick cock against your cheek.

You looked up at him with half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, a smile playing on your lips as your hand reached for his cock. You only took the tip into your mouth, your hand rubbing the length as you moaned with his cock in your mouth. All you did was suck the tip of his cock, taking it in and out of your mouth with a little pop, making the boy groan in slight frustration. When Jongho stole your hand from San’s cock so you could start jacking him off, and when Yeosang took your other hand to do the same, San grabbed the back of your head and forced you down on his cock, making you gag loudly. He moved your head forcefully, continuing to make you gag as you sucked him off properly, the sound reverberating through the room.

“God, she sounds like such a fucking slut,” Mingi commented as he smirked at the sight of you on your knees sucking the thick boy off.

“Hey, show some respect,” Hongjoong snapped. “She’s our sweetheart.”

“Our slutty sweetheart,” Wooyoung couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as he bent down to give your ass a tight slap.

You couldn’t help but moan, your body jolting towards San when you felt Wooyoung’s hand go from slapping your ass to grabbing it and pulling upwards. San finally let you surface for air, only for Yunho to interject, his hand guiding your face to his massive cock.

“Don’t just focus on San, sweetheart. We all want to stuff our cocks in your face,” Yunho said, his soft voice very misleading considering the words that just left his mouth.

And so, all eight of the frat bros took their turns stuffing their cocks in your mouth. While you were choking on Mingi’s insane length, Hongjoong moved behind you, pushing you forward so that you were on your hands and knees. He licked his hand and ran his fingers along the folds of your sopping cunt, his fingers teasing you by slipping inside briefly.

"You're so fucking wet, sweetheart. You want us that bad, do you?"

You couldn't respond properly— you still had a mouthful of Mingi in you. Luckily, Hongjoong's didn't bother waiting for a reply from you. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds slowly before entering you at that same pace, the feeling of his cock filling you up making your entire body tingle. He watched as you curled your toes, making him chuckle slightly.

"You like my cock inside you, sweetheart? Of course you do," he sighed out. "You're so fucking tight... You feel so good, sweetheart."

He moved at a gentle pace, but each motion was enough to make you feel good already— you just needed a little boost. You brought your hand to your clit and started rubbing, only for someone to snatch your hand away.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart. That’s our job,” Wooyoung quickly denied you.

Sliding into the space underneath you, Yeosang was the next of them to press his tongue against your sore bud, the wetness from his tongue and the way he swirled it around your clit getting you to satisfaction much faster than your fingers ever could. You took Mingi out of your mouth to cry out loudly as you came, your walls fluttering around Hongjoong’s cock as your arousal dripped out of your stuffed cunt.

You clenched so hard around Hongjoong’s dick that he ended up coming without warning as well. He rammed his hips into yours and came inside, his cum heating you up as he filled you up.

“Hey, you said we wouldn’t cum inside,” Seonghwa pointed an accusatory finger at the oldest boy.

“N-No, I want you to fill me up,” you caught yourself whimpering. “I want you all to fill me with your cum.”

“Well, you heard her,” Hongjoong said slyly. “And who are we to say no to our sweetheart?”

You telling the boys that you wanted them to cum inside you excited them more than you anticipated. Within seconds, you were seated on Jongho’s lap, his girth spreading your walls so far that you thought you were going to tear while Wooyoung stood before you, his knee pressed into the couch as he rubbed you from the front with his cock.

“Woo— Hnngh! It’s n-not going to fit,” you said while moaning as Jongho thrust from underneath you.

“Oh, trust me, sweetheart. You’re going to fit us both.”

With that, Wooyoung slid his cock into you, a scream of pleasure leaving your lungs as you flung your head back and closed your eyes, just letting yourself feel both of them inside you. You thought there would hardly be any space for either of them to start moving, but Jongho proved you wrong when he held your waist tightly and started moving your body up and down while Wooyoung rolled his waist against yours. You could hear Jongho’s desperate grunts in your ear and Wooyoung’s erratic breathing against your skin as he pressed his face into the nook of your neck.

“Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” Jongho bit out. “You feel so fucking good, I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

Responses evaded you. Instead, you turned your head to kiss Jongho, your fingers pressing into his scalp as you held the back of his head. You briefly made eye contact with him, the dark lust in his eyes sending a wave of heat through your body, the heat only increasing when he kissed you, his tongue inviting yours to dance. Your other hand went to Wooyoung’s neck, your nails digging into his skin and leaving deep crescents as you kissed Jongho passionately.

Wooyoung thrust into you in a way that made your body lean into Jongho’s firm chest further, the slightly altered angle of your body doing it for the boy underneath you. He grunted against your lips as he came, his ropes of cum shooting deep inside you. The second the other guys realized he came, they grabbed for you, pulling you off his lap. Soon, you were pinning Wooyoung to the couch, his cock still inside you.

“Hyung, come here,” Yeosang said to Seonghwa.

Getting on top of you, Yeosang slid his cock along your ass, the tip teasing your asshole every so often as Seonghwa knelt on the couch behind you.

“Forget about double stuffed, sweetheart,” Seonghwa quipped. “You’re going to get triple stuffed tonight.”

Without giving you time to ponder the implications of those words, Yeosang forced his cock into your tight asshole while Seonghwa slipped his cock into your pussy, the three of them fully inside you.

“Oh my God!” you cried as they pressed further until they were all completely inside you.

“Shit, her asshole is still really fucking tight,” Yeosang swore, the profanities leaving his mouth making your entire body thirst for him.

Your eyes watered up when Yeosang began to move, your hole tight and red as it swallowed him, the sight of which nearly drove Yeosang up the wall. He mercilessly fucked your ass, not wanting that tight feeling to leave as you squeezed his cock just right. You wanted to cry, nay, scream his name, but before long, San was standing in front of you, forcing his cock down your throat again.

“Good, sweetheart,” he praised as you gawked obnoxiously. “Very fucking good.”

Below you, Wooyoung’s pants were getting breathier, high moans and groans leaving his lungs. He bit his lower lip as he tried desperately to hold his orgasm at bay as he did not want the other guys stealing you from him just yet. But, he was finding it a little difficult to move at the pace he wanted with Seonghwa’s cock stuffed in your cunt. Thankfully, when Seonghwa pulled out, it allowed Wooyoung to ram his hips upwards, the slapping of his waist against yours overpowering your moans.

Seonghwa had decided he wanted to move to your asshole, so while you were distracted by Wooyoung’s insane hip thrusts, Seonghwa shoved his cock into your asshole, practically making you feel like Yeosang and Seonghwa were going to tear you a new one. San had to pull his cock out of your mouth before you bit down on it, making him opt to repeatedly shove his cock in your mouth over and over again instead of having you continuously suck it.

Wooyoung couldn’t hold back anymore. The erotic noises of your cunt and ass and you sucking San off did it for him. He groaned loudly and blinked stars out of his eyes as he came, filling you with your third load.

“Woo, pull out,” Seonghwa ordered. “I’m close, too.”

You were surprised to hear Seonghwa say that— he sounded way too calm and collected to be close. But, when all three boys pulled out, you turned to see that Seonghwa’s jaw was slightly dropped, and his eyes were fluttering when he re-entered your cunt. Despite three loads of cum inside you, you were still insanely tight for him, and him being in your ass just moments prior squeezing and nearly snapping his dick off was already plenty tight. Yeosang, who had resumed with your asshole, snapped you back to attention when he slapped your ass, your back arching as a result.

Seonghwa had barely entered you, and he was done. You pressed your chest against Wooyoung’s and pushed your ass upwards, and as a result, Seonghwa came hard. He grabbed your ass cheeks and let out a low, shuddering groan as he came, disappointment evident on his face— he wanted to fuck you more. What a shame. The second Seonghwa pulled out and moved away, Yeosang switched to your cunt and immediately came. He had been holding his load for quite some time, and he wanted to fill your cunt, not your ass, with his seed.

The five of them swam inside you threatening to spill out when you relaxed your pussy just enough, but you clenched and held it in. You wanted to keep them inside you for as long as humanly possible.

San determined that it was his turn after you were left panting for dear life on the couch. He nimbly picked you up and laid you so that you were bent slightly uncomfortably, your head and shoulders pressing into the ground while your ass rested against the edge of the couch. San stood over you, his thick cock twitching in anticipation as he prepared to drill into you. As he adjusted his position, Yunho and Mingi knelt by your side, their cocks slipping into your open palms, and Wooyoung bent over so that his face was above yours but upside down— he had every intention to Spiderman-kiss you.

Before you realized it, San’s cock was inside you and throbbing while staying still, a long moan leaving him. Wooyoung didn’t give you the chance to moan. He kissed you roughly, his lips tugging upwards on your lower lip. You were a little too focused on Wooyoung to the point where Yunho and Mingi had to forcefully move their own cocks in your loose grip— not that they really minded, though, because they were waiting their turn to fuck your cunt.

To say San’s cock was literally drilling into you would be an understatement. He was annihilating your pussy and back with the amount of force he was using to thrust. He had a tight grip on your waist as he rammed his waist into yours repeatedly, your entire body shifting with every rut.

“S-Sannie! I’m c-cumming!” you cried as you broke off your kisses with Wooyoung.

“Fuck, sweetheart, me— Oh, God!”

San didn’t get to finish his sentence— he just finished. He pressed a good majority of his body weight onto you as he shoved his cock so far deep inside you that it hit your cervix, making your entire body shudder as you came; and the second San pulled out, Yunho and Mingi were on you like vultures. Mingi grabbed you and hoisted you in the air quickly, your legs dangling as he kept his arms secure behind the backs of your knees.

“Oh my God, Mingi, do not fucking drop me,” you yelped as you clung to him.

“Relax, sweetheart. I have no intention of letting you go,” his deep chuckle reverberated in your ear.

Without using his hands to help him, Mingi was able to successfully sink you down on his cock, making you cry loudly as you felt his length slide inside you quickly. Before he could even start moving you, Yunho pressed his chest against your back, his own cock making its way inside your cunt as well, earning yet another cry from you.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted as the two men with the longest lengths fucked you midair, the two of them moving you so that you were bouncing on their insane cocks.

You could barely keep your head on straight with them fucking you like that, but with the addition of their low grunts and groans in your ear, you were losing your mind completely. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you leaned backwards into Yunho, your grip on Mingi loosening like your grip on reality.

“Look at you all fucked out by our cocks, sweetheart,” Yunho teased.

“You really like double stuffed that much, huh?” Mingi added to the teasing.

You wanted oh so badly to tell them to shut up, but you could only scream their names as you felt your climax rapidly approach. You brought your head back to face Mingi’s, your lips immediately searching for his as you did your best to hold off on cumming. But, when Mingi pulled you towards him to meet your desperate kisses, he rubbed against your G-spot, making you cum instantly. Your cunt clenched so tightly that both boys subsequently came, their loud groans echoing in the living room as their cum spurt deep inside you, leaving you with the cum of the eight of them threatening to spill out of you had it not been for the two massive cocks blocking its path.

Mingi let you down onto the ground, the cum flowing out of you, leaving you sitting in a pool of their cum as you fought to regain your breath and sanity. Blinking stars and tears out of your eyes, you looked up to see all eight of them hovering above you while stroking their cocks.

“So, sweetheart,” Hongjoong spoke. “Welcome to ATZ.”

You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed— was that really it?

“Do you want more, sweetheart?” Seonghwa chuckled looking at your expression.

Biting your lower lip, you looked up at him and nodded, all eight boys’ breath hitching.

“Believe me, sweetheart. We’re not done fucking you yet.”

2K notes · View notes

teeskz · 1 month

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¡Arriba! : “Enjoying this dirty night to escape.”

» pairing: fem!reader x OT5 (kim hongjoong, jeong yunho, choi san, song mingi, jung wooyoung)

» summary: being a bookworm, you’re used to your regular schedule of simply studying, eating, oh, and the occasional sleeping. it isn’t until one night, you find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time, and soon get swept up in one of the craziest games you’ve ever heard. in hindsight, maybe you should’ve declined. but it was only supposed to last for one night. one, dirty night.

» w.c: 12.5k (was not aiming for this number, but this what you get)

» genre & warnings: college au, alcohol consumption, heavy kissing, oral (m. & f. receiving), tit sucking, leaving of hickies, praises, corruption, voyeurism SO MUCH, humiliation kink (reader gets embarrassed a lot), teasing, reader c*ms untouched, BUKAKKE (look it up if you don’t know what it means), no intercourse in here but there’s a shit ton of other stuff, spit mention? titty!obsessed yunho, unknown obsession w/ reader, pussydrunk wooyoung, if i were to make a pt. 2, it would be a gang bang, just saying.

» a/n: this is the first edition of my T!TS UP series, hopefully it was worth the wait! (im so so sorry for taking 19 days to upload this, yes i counted how long since i posted that teaser🙏)

» LINK TO T!TS UP SYNOPSIS HERE

» taglist: @mingyuslice @facioleeknow @sharksandminhos @yakosobaboba @xcynthiaaa @hyukssunflower @tiny-apocalypse @pearltinyy @therealcuppicake @kxrta @hrts4hanniehae @softwsan @certifiedmoa @stayskz143 @isabel-018

if your name is crossed off, i still couldn’t find you

| Pt.2 Out Now

Mmmm, no that’s not right either.

The bites on your pencil has increased significantly as you start to chew on the end, never have being so stumped at a problem before.

You’d been rolling through your homework with ease, and even finding somewhat joy at solving these difficult questions. The answers were just flowing right out of you. Until this one.

What if I squared- wait, that doesn’t work for these kinds of theories.

You stare at the paper.

But I’ve reduced the ratio up until here, so how come………….oh!

Instant eagerness returns as you quickly realize what went wrong. And just in the matter of a few seconds, you’re able to work out the rest of the problem and eventually submit your homework.

Sighing happily, you reach your arms up to stretch and straighten out your back. Sitting at the same desk for the past 3 hours, although comfortably, has been draining. Goodness, were you ready for a much needed break.

Fixing your hair, you stand up, your pajama pants falling to the ground and begin scuffling to your communal bathroom.

Sharing with 3 other girls has its difficulties, you won’t deny that, but on Saturday nights like this where all 3 are out -and probably won’t be home till the next morning- you were thankful to get the space all to yourself.

You do your business, wash your hands and right as you step back into your room, a low rumble emits from below. It’s your stomach practically yelling for food.

Oh, that’s another bad habit of yours. Since often you’d find yourself getting so caught up in your workload, more times than not, you wind up forgetting to eat. And also sometimes pee.

Even as you check your nearby clock resting on the night stand, reading 12:49 AM, determination, and maybe the high you still rode from solving that problem, drives you to venture out for food.

So, that’s exactly what you do.

Throwing on some fuzzy slippers, you don’t bother putting on a shirt to cover your tank, believing it’ll take you less than 5 minutes to find a simple vending machine and head back.

Quietly, you open your door and peer down both ends of the corridor. Both are equal distance from a couple of machines close by, so just choosing whatever, you make a left and patter down the hall.

As you’re walking, you can’t help but notice a sort of stillness in the air, one that you can’t quite pinpoint. Like everyone’s disappeared and you’re the only one left.

You finally reach the end and walk into the common area, where on most days are packed, but for tonight is eerily quiet. The vending machine glows off into the corner and your tummy croaks in gratefulness.

Hmm, what am I in the mood for? Ambling over, you stop in front of it and ponder. I could get something simple like the cookie package. Or maybe the baked chips, I think those are good.

So many options, you’re getting overwhelmed. As you continue scanning through your options, you unexpectedly get filled with the sounds of footsteps shuffling across the hard floor, and soon a boy comes into view from the far side of the room.

“Always have to do everything myself.” He’s grumbling to himself, eyes pointed downwards as he scratches the back of his head.

Your eyes are wide as you just stare at him walking closer and closer to you, till eventually the boy glances up and you two lock eyes. And it’s then you recognize him.

“Kim Hongjoong?” Your voice raises at the end as you’re genuinely surprised at his presence. He’s a senior in one of your classes, Ethics, and wow, is it shocking to see him here.

From what you know, he doesn’t live in this housing unit nor have you ever seen him around. So, what’s he doing here? His own face contorts with shock while his legs slow to a halt, tilting his head to the side.

“Y/N, what a surprise,” Starting with your head, his gaze takes notice to your attire and travels downwards, “You just wake up?”

You follow his eyes and try to suppress the sheer amount of embarrassment rising inside of you, “Oh- um, no…”

“Needed a late night snack?” He tries again, a small corner tugging up at his lips.

You lift your head and couldn’t help the sheepish grin spreading wide, “Mmm.”

Hongjoong lets out a short laugh, “Understandable. My friends were craving those powdered donuts and cookies, and tasked me with getting them.”

“Ooh!” You turn towards the snack display and regard the white packaging, “I could get the donuts.”

He watches your expression change from quizzical to astonishment, and his eyebrows scrunch. As if you’re a puzzle and he’s having difficulty figuring you out.

He murmurs before shifting just a slight bit closer to you, “What’re you doing up anyways? I didn’t peg you as the night owl type.”

The smile you bore remains on your face, moving your head back to the boy, “When I got done with my homework, my stomach was growling.”

“Growling.” He repeats, an amused tone to his sentence.

“Growling.” You emphasize again and he could only offer a nod.

He waits a beat before going to speak, “It’s Saturday, though.”

Looking back at him, you meekly shrug, not really seeing what that had to do anything, then rotate again to the vending machine, “Yeah, perfect time to get it done. None of my roommates are home so it’s easier to concentrate.”

Hongjoong hums at your words, “All by yourself, then? Isn’t it lonely?”

“Well,” When phrasing it like that, you find it does put a minor dip in your mood, “I’m always too caught up in my assignments to really notice.”

Instead of immediately responding to you, he allows your words to hang in the air. You think you might’ve just said something out of the ordinary, glancing back to Hongjoong in an attempt to reexplain, when you notice him staring at your backside.

Then, without warning, you feel a pinch at the fabric of your waistband. A soft gasp escapes your lips as warm fingers pull at your pants and tug them upwards, “Y/N, your pajama’s are so cute. You can’t have them lopsided like that.”

You’re a deer in headlights while he goes to meet your eyes. As his gaze lingers on you, you find it more than difficult to reciprocate the action. Your cheeks feel hot, and the stutter that quickly comes when going to answer further shows your awkwardness, “O-Oh, um…”

The spot still burns from where he had touched you and it makes you lose your train of thought. It isn’t until your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a distraction, and catch glimpse of the powdered donuts in the machine, “What-what about your friends? They’re waiting for you still, right? You should be con-considerate of them, and bring them back their snacks.”

Hongjoong takes in your new demeanor, with him watching your body language, and god, are you something else. How swiftly you go from advocating for yourself, excitement radiating from you, to a stumbling mess of words; it actually fascinates him.

“Right,” he follows in your footsteps and puts attention back to the donuts, the fond smile on his lips evermore growing, “They did want me back quick.”

“Yes, yes.” You affirm in a more stern manner, hoping this copes with your unsure state.

“I’ll just tell them I got distracted by something cute.” He caps off his statement with a glance over at you and you look back at him, a stunned expression present.

He does a once over at your outfit, “Your pants.”

You now understand what he means and respond by shaking your head ‘yes’. Because of course he was referring to your pants.

This time, an audible laugh emits from the boy. He has to throw a hand over his face to stop himself from showing too much of his teeth. Fuck, he is finding so much entertainment from this.

You don’t fully comprehend what’s happening, or why Hongjoong’s outwardly making claims such as this. In all honesty, this is probably the most interaction you’ve had with him in all four months of knowing the Senior, and you’ve come to realize: he’s pretty odd.

“I should-” You start right as Hongjoong goes to speak.

“You should come back to my friend’s dorm with me. It’ll be fun with you there.”

And further embarrass yourself? Absolutely, not.

“I can’t- I shouldn’t,” you bring your hands to fumble around with the hem of your tank and deliberately avoid eye contact with him, “It’s late and I was planning on heading to um..bed soon….so it- I shouldn’t.”

When you finally drag your eyes up to Hongjoong, the friendly expression he wears somehow puts you at an instant ease, “Just stop by. And then if you wanna leave, I’ll walk you back to your dorm. That sound okay?”

The way he spoke, so nonchalant and so caring, honestly made you feel stupid. Like you have no reason to feel insecure.

But this was all new for you. You don’t hang out with friends, you don’t go out on Saturday nights, that’s not you. And you don’t have a problem with it. At least, you hadn’t before.

Then, here comes this boy, who extends an invite to you. He’s giving you a chance to venture outside of your safety room. He sees you. So, albeit hesitantly, you make an internal decision to join him. Plus, you knew well you weren’t actually going to sleep.

“That..that actually sounds nice.” You agree, and Hongjoong grins.

As he goes to answer you, he’s reaching into his back pocket in search of the crumpled bills he later pulls out, “Let me get the guys their snacks, then we can head over there.”

You step back and allow him to cut in front of you. He shoves the money into the slot, enough to get multiple things of junk, and you watch as he requests 2 packages of the donuts and a package of cookies.

Once they all drop to the bottom, Hongjoong bends down to the retrieve the snacks.

“Oh, you got two-?” Him shoving one of the donuts in your hand cause you to pause.

“Here, since it’s my fault you’re craving them now.” He states and you take the snack with gratefulness. You thank him graciously and he simply rejects it, claiming it really was no big deal, then starts to make strides back to the dormitory and you follow behind.

The two of you twists around a corridor and walk down what seems like a never-ending hallway.

“You’re too kind, Hongjoong. Inviting me out, buying me stuff.” You quietly gush behind your senior while he holds in a chuckle. You’re too cute.

“Really, I don’t mind one bit.” He slows down once he’s in front of a room and so do you, assuming that his friend’s dorm is the one with the white board that has ‘WE’RE NOT BEING LOUD, YOU’RE JUST QUIET.’ written in big, bolded letters on the door.

The sounds of faint bickering could be heard from the other side so slowly, you peer towards Hongjoong, "Is everything okay?"

He's harboring a somber gaze then lets out a slow, controlled sigh, "Knowing them, probably not."

With that being said, he grabs hold of the handle before throwing the door in, announcing your guys' entrance.

The sight you're met with is unruly, though quickly you take notice of how familiar you are with every single person in the room.

There sat in nearby chairs are Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi, both from your History class, cackling at the scene unfolding right before their eyes of Choi San and Jung Wooyoung slapping and throwing hits at one another.

Choi San is an English major just like you, and you've known Jung Wooyoung since high school. But, wow, you hadn't realized they all new each other.

"You gonna talk about me again?" Choi San threatens the junior whom he's currently hurting, applying pressure to the nape of his neck.

"Aish, aish!" Jung Wooyoung winces at the pain though a crooked smile is present on his face, "What're you, a fucking barbarian? Get off."

"What the fuck are you two doing?" Hongjoong rushes over to deescalate the situation. He shoves Choi San into a corner and rolls Jung Wooyoung the other way, "I wasn't even gone for that long and already you guys try to kill each other."

At that statement, another uproar ensues. All of the boys shouting at him, yelling claims of "You took fucking forever!" "The hell?!" And other variations.

You raise your shoulders and tuck yourself inwards at the commotion yet, part of you seemingly enjoying the racket. A soft giggle flows out of you, which in turn makes your presence known.

“Y/N?” Jung Wooyoung questions first.

All pairs of eyes briskly dart to you, some bearing perplexed expressions, others with stunned looks as there you stood, pajama’s and all, in the middle of Jung Wooyoung’s dormitory.

“Why’re you here?” Choi San adds and right as you go to respond to them, Hongjoong’s quick to answer for you, retracting his hands off of the boys and pushing himself up.

“We met at the vending machines, and I invited her back.” He’s sauntering over to you now, an all-knowing smirk in place. He leans down just a smidge when he’s inches away from your face and lowly speaks, “Want me to tell them about the distraction?”

You instantly hip at that, whatever calm manner you had dissipating by the second. It wasn’t subtle either as everyone eyes you and Hongjoong’s encounter.

“She didn’t have anything else to do, and was more than happy to come here.” He continues while his gaze stays on your face.

“I…” You open your mouth as if you have something to follow up with, but then instantly close it and opt to let Hongjoong’s reply suffice. For the most part, that is pretty much what happened.

After the wave of confusion from the boys, comes a round of cheers. They’re all welcoming you in as Hongjoong walks you over to the group, and you’ve never felt more comfortable yet red-faced in your life.

You plop down on the floor between Mingi and Yunho, both of them inches above you in rolling chairs, and enjoy the swellness of want being produced from everyone, they want you here.

“Did you just wake up?” Wooyoung asks as he scoots his way back over to the rest of the group, and you shake your head ‘no’.

“She’s been up all night doing homework.” Hongjoong smiles from the far corner and the response brings in a collection of oh’s.

“You’re so smart,” San coos while sprawling himself out on the floor, him now laying on his side and propping his head up with a hand, “Wanna help me out with my shit?”

Before you could speak up, a package of cookies get thrown at his back, a burst of laughter filling the air. San yelps from the impact and the culprit, Hongjoong, wades his way closer to everyone.

“Don’t go dragging Y/N into your bullshit, do it yourself.” The Senior throws the other package of donuts to Yunho, who catches it effortlessly, then takes a seat right behind San on the floor.

Instead of arguing, San simply huffs and goes to grab at and eat the cookies while the rest of the group moves forward in conversation.

“So, what’ve you guys been up to tonight?” You gaze around the room, asking your first set of questions, only to get unexplainable looks in return from the bunch. They all stop making eye contact with you and glance at one another with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

There’s a beat of silence when a nudge from a foot draws your attention to Mingi, who’s at first biting his lip but then releases it with narrow eyes, “You a snitch?”

“A…snitch?” You parrot, staring up into his face then softly shake your head no. The boys couldn’t get enough of your reactions.

Yunho’s mouth goes thin as he forces himself to look away from you right as Wooyoung watches you attentively. Just like to Hongjoong, you were an interesting thing to them, someone that intrigued them like no other.

And wouldn’t that make for an interesting night?

“Alright then,” Mingi concludes and San sits up, extending a hand underneath the bed. Before you could ask for a further explanation, a near-full bottle of alcohol gets pulled out then tossed to the middle of the mini circle you all have formed.

You regard the bottle with shock. Any form of alcohol is strictly prohibited on campus, and here in front of you lies tangible proof of it.

“Who put it underneath the bed?” Hongjoong inqueries while going in to reach for the drink. He’s eyeing San while unscrewing the cap, as San stares daggers at Mingi.

“Dumbass over here kicked it underneath there.”

“Yeah, fucking big foot.” Wooyoung interjects earning him and threatening look from Mingi.

“Ah,” Hongjoong, after getting the bottle opened, takes a big swig of the liquid, downing it with ease, “Was wondering where it went when Y/N and I came in here.”

A part of your heart raced at the actions unfolding. He passes the bottle off to Wooyoung, only after teasing him for it, then you listen as everyone scolds Wooyoung for being a hog. Out the corner of his eye, however, Yunho notices you fidget.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Yunho shifts to amorously watch you, drawn into your well-known rule follower persona, “You’ve never seen alcohol before?”

You feel all eyes turn to you as they await an answer. Of course you’ve seen alcohol before, knew what it is. Does he think you live under a rock? But still, the sight of it leaves a twinge bit of nervousness in the pit of your stomach.

“I have, actually.” Scatteredly, you bounce between looking at the boys while trying to sound steady, “I know my roommates like that a lot.”

“Yeah?” Wooyoung beams then leans in to place the bottle in the space between your legs, “Feeling like trying some now?”

You look down at it with uncertainty. You know this is wrong, this is so, completely, wrong, “Uh….”

“Don’t be scared.” San encourages, a tiny smirk taking over, and soon a ripple of motivation circulates throughout the room. The guys are all murmuring small praises, yet keeping watchful eyes on you, testing you.

One of your hands lifts to grab hold of the bottle’s neck, the other holding the bottom for support. You scan over the glass warily then hesitantly glance up to the others, “Do I just…”

You mock an action of drinking it which earns you a laugh from Hongjoong, “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Come on,” Mingi rests a palm on the back of your head, stroking you smoothly. The movement is so comforting that you don’t even realize him taking strands of your hair to wrap around his fingers, then ever so slowly he tilts your head backwards.

Instinctively, you raise your arms to guide the alcohol closer to you, and without another moment to think about it, you pour a stream of the lukewarm liquid down your throat.

“That’s it, just like that.” Yunho mutters sweetly as you continue spilling it down your throat, not really knowing when to stop.

Quickly, the burning catches up to you and reactively, you stop pouring the bitter alcohol and shoot your head forward, grimacing from the taste. Although it’d felt like you just inhaled a gallon of hand sanitizer, the congratulatory spurs, courtesy of the guys, makes up for it. They were proud of you, and it made you feel good.

San holds out his hand to you, indicating he wanted to be next, “Took it like a champ, Y/N. Good job.”

You lend the bottle to him and almost instantly, you swiftly make note of the alcohol coursing through your veins. Eyes big, a thump of reality hits you and deeply, you take in a breath while returning to your spot. Woah.

The passing of the bottle lasted for about the next 30 minutes, everyone taking turns in drinking. When it’d be close to your turn, you’d find yourself anticipating the action. Then when it came your time, all over again, you down the drink, make the most disgusted face, then hand it off to Mingi. And some time during it all, you had demolished those donuts Hongjoong supplied you with.

It’s exhilarating, the situation you’re in. It’s thrilling how you’re being commended for doing something defying. And you come to realize: maybe you actually needed a night like this.

“So, uh,” you start with a faint smile on your face, “Is this all you guys do? Drink and sit in a circle?”

Wooyoung has now made his way over to your lap, resting his head on top of your soft thigh, “Mmhmm. Sometimes, we’ll talk about other people too.”

“Oh, fun.” You smile but your attention gets captured by Mingi waving a hand out.

He’s attempting to get Wooyoung’s notice despite his lack of verbiage, “Yah, yah, what-uh…what was that game you had? That one you said we didn’t have enough players for?”

Wooyoung fails to move, instead choosing to keep his eyes shut and body close to you, “Who’s he talking to?”

A kick from Yunho sends him flying at that response, rolling off of you and makes him land on his back. You laugh amusingly as Wooyoung stumbles around to stand up.

“Okay, fine!” He whines, wavering around slightly while heading to his closet, “You guys have a fucking problem.”

Hongjoong’s laying with his back to the floor, chest up to the ceiling and yields his head to face you, “He’s always trying to get us to play this stupid game.”

“But we’ve never had enough players.” Yunho buzzes, moving from his spot in the chair to the open ground next to you.

“Not until our Y/N decided to join.” San’s tracing the exposed part of your ankle from your pants riling up, and you offer a content ‘mmm’.

“Got it.” Wooyoung uses a palm to shut the closet door, then comes back to the group with a small, red box in hand.

“What game is it?” You inquiry, bringing your head closer to the box when Wooyoung takes a spot in the middle of Hongjoong and Yunho.

Hongjoong peers over to him and begins reading off of the label, “Tits….Up.”

“The hell is this?” Mingi has the bottle currently and is resting his arms against his thighs, gripping the bottle in one hand. If you wanted to lean back, you’d touch his leg, that’s how close he is to you.

“It’s- It’s a drinking game,” Wooyoung studies the back of the box, and you happen to catch glimpse of a seductive pattern printed out on the packaging. The kissy lips are cute, you think as you aimlessly regard the box.

“So,” Yunho extends his arm out to cross in front you, the alcohol now being given to him, “How’d we play again?”

Wooyoung finally opens up the game, grabbing hold of the cards to shuffle them then instantly start to sort them out. All of the red-colored cards get grouped together, the pink-colored ones in a separate pile, then lastly the black cards lay flatly in the middle of it all.

“From what I remember, we all roll a die that tells us which color card to pick up.” He tries to grab the die out of the box but it ends up slipping out of his grip and flings towards your foot, “Whoops.”

“Ooh.” You pick it up and begin to browse, seeing the red’s and pink’s and black’s filling up different side’s of the die while the other squares have 2 ‘roll again’ and a ‘skip turn’ as the remaining options.

“Red is dare, pink is truth, and black means it’s a challenge.” Wooyoung finishes, which you could tell by him throwing down the instructions to the side of him.

“It’s just truth or dare, then?” You’re confused. If it is just truth or dare, then what’s the whole point of having this?

He shakes his head at your comment, a light laugh trickling out, “Just truth or dare? Yeah, on like steroids.”

Hongjoong retrieves the previously discarded manual and brings it to his face, “Don’t do the dares: drink, don’t do the truths: drink, don’t do the challenges: drink, drink, and drink.”

“There’s a number of shots listed at the bottom of every card, so if you choose to not do what’s on one of them then that’s the equivalent to it. That make sense?” Wooyoung explains and collectively, there’s murmurs of agreement.

“How do you win?” You perk up with a new sense of curiosity.

“Gotta have the most cards collected.” He shoots back and Hongjoong quietly confirms him.

“You only get the card if you complete what’s on it.”

“In other words, don’t be a pussy.” San teases.

Alright, you can do this. Your first drinking game, ever. Excitment’s buzzing all around you as Yunho bends down to pick up the die. So exciting.

“I’ll go first.” He says then goes to shake the cube in a closed fist. He releases the roll and all together, you watch the die travel down and around Wooyoung’s carpet, only stopping when it hits the edge of the box.

“Hmm, truth.” Hongjoong states as the rose-colored square is clearly shown upright.

Yunho reaches in to swipe one of the pink cards, turning it over, then reading aloud, “No secrets allowed, share one of your biggest turn-ons.”

Your eyebrows raise as the rest of the group hoots in await for his reply. Biggest turn on? Like…

“How many shots if you don’t answer?” Mingi asks, nodding his head in the direction of Yunho.

Yunho scans through the card till he’s at the bottom of it, “Uh, it only says one.” He says and goes to pocket the card, “That’s a fucking waste.”

You’re staring at him in awe, the suspense creeping up the walls of your stomach. What’s he gonna say? How much is he willing to expose? If you get a card like that, how much are you willing to expose?

He looks around the room while his thoughts churn, “My biggest turn on? I don’t…I guess I’ll….damn, there’s too many!”

“Just choose one.” Mingi sighs gruffly, and it’s then you decide to rest your back against his leg. It’s been brushing against your skin for some time now so, you know, maybe you need the extra support.

“Fine, just one?” Yunho catches his lip with a tooth, taking in the scenery when his eyes land on you. The eye contact doesn��t lasts too long, with him dropping his sight down briefly, too briefly for you to even wonder what he’s thinking, then he opens his mouth, “I like seeing stiff nipples through a shirt, the big, puffy ones especially. It’s so damn hot to me.”

Hongjoong immediately covers his mouth to control a snicker, San practically doing the same. Wooyoung holds in a smile and you’re left to speculate that maybe there’s something more to Yunho’s answer. And now, you’re feeling self-conscious.

“Leave Y/N alone, Yunho. You’re being a dick.” The voice behind you, Mingi, chastises.

At the mention of your name, you slowly glance down towards your chest and the embarrassment you had previously hits you like wave. You had absolutely no idea your nipples were erected, essentially sticking out miles from your tank top. They’re hard, and stiff, just like how he described them.

“Alright, fine,” Yunho throws an apologetic look your way, “But still, I’m serious. That kind of stuff turns me on.”

You want to cover yourself up, hide your chest away. You were basically flashing the boys unknowingly and yet, why does your heart start to beat irregularly? A sliver of you starts to feel shame. Is it wrong you seemingly like the attention? Enjoy the thought of knowing it was you who turned him on?

And in turn, maybe that makes you a little excited, but, a different kind. The kind you only feel when it’s late at night, your roommates are out, and have nothing but your fingers to keep you entertained.

“Should we pass it off to Y/N?” Someone questions which break you out of your state.

No way, at least not yet, “Actual- Actually, can I go last?”

The group regards you first, then pass the look off to Wooyoung who, if that’s the case, would be going next. He simply shrugs then snatches up the dice, going to roll.

In the midst of his turn, a hand is placed onto your leg, scaring you just a bit but also sending a jolt through your core, “Are you nervous now?”

San speaks quietly to you, and you look back behind your shoulder at him, “Just wanted to watch some more before I go.”

He shakes his head understandingly, but doesn’t immediately let go. It’s not until, Wooyoung announces getting ‘truth’ in which he remembers his placement on your leg. Though, he didn’t make much effort to remove himself fast.

Wooyoung’s already reading his card when you decide to hone back into the game, and you try to ignore the small build emitting inside of you. Or, is it just the alcohol? Yeah, probably just that.

“Get a good look at everyone,” He starts, “Let us know, who’s looking the most fuckable? And this one’s 2 shots if I don’t answer.”

A low ‘ooh’ rumbles in the crowd, including one from yourself. Wooyoung holds the card out to his chin, striking a ‘thinking’ pose while he examines everyone, “So hard.”

You sense your chest heaving up and down, anticipation flooding you. Wooyoung darts his eyes to one side of the room, then dramatically to other, but eventually an answer is made.

“Sannie’s been working out a lot more lately,” A sly grin spreads on Wooyoung’s face, eyeing the junior who’s currently fake flexing, and then they roll over to you, “But I think little Y/N has to be my pick. You’re just looking too good right now. So, fuckable was it?”

You ‘eep’, and before you could think, you’re throwing a hand over your face to cover the immense blush you wear. Where do these guys get off on embarrassing you like this?

He lets out a menacing laugh, knowing you’d react as such. Sometimes, he just couldn’t help himself when it came to messing with you. You just make it too easy for him.

“Wow, how’s it feel being the center of attention, Y/N?” Hongjoong smiles, taking the dice from Wooyoung’s possession and you could only offer a head shake as your reply.

San follows up next, watching you with such a fondness, “I don’t know, guys, I’m thinking she’s starting to like this.”

You drop your hands, now ready to face the group, and the intensity of your jolt worsens. It’s almost starting to feel, to feel like a throb. And instead of it residing in just your core, you could recognize it radiating to other places.

“Hongjoong, just go.” You sigh out, borderline disgusted with yourself at the new realization that you’re genuinely enjoying this. That you are getting incredibly turned on by the humiliation.

He does as you say, rolling the dice and retrieving a card after earning the first ‘dare’, but instead of reading it out loud to the rest of the group, Hongjoong looks it over in his head. His face is changing from confusion, to perplexity, then ultimately, revolution.

Placing the card back in the middle of the pile, he requests for the bottle which San hands, then takes his first shot. The rest of you guys are surprised by this decision, some of you going in to hound Hongjoong about what card he grabbed.

“Not gonna tell.” Is all he says before taking a whopping 4 swigs of alcohol back to back and shuddering every single time.

“Holy shit!” Wooyoung cackles out, amused by the older student’s willingness to not compete.

“It was worth 5 shots?” Yunho’s voice cracks and you’re left stunned. Just what was on that card?

Hongjoong tosses the die over to San, the next person to go, while he tries his best to ignore the way everyone’s watching him. No matter the looks, no matter the gazes, there’s no way in hell he’d ever reveal what was on it.

San rolls out the cube and it lands on ‘truth’. He reaches down and picks up the pink card, and unlike the senior, does read it aloud everyone, “What’s the dirtiest thing you masturbated to?”

While San lets out a disgruntled huff, Wooyoung brightens up right away, shooting an arm into the air and beaming, “Oh! Oh! I can answer this, please, let me tell them how fucking weird you are.”

“I’ll kill you,” San lowers his head, rather intimidatingly, and extends an arm out for the bottle, “It’s only 2 shots, I’ll just take that.”

Hongjoong proceeds to give him the alcohol, and San downs his shots like it was nothing. After him, is Mingi, who’s been decently far away from all of the action.

“Awww, Mingi, come down here with the rest of us. You look like a loner.” Wooyoung belittles, causing the boy behind to scoff harshly. But even then, he still does it, scooting himself off of the chair and making his way down to the ground.

You get booted off from his leg as he’s moving, though, once he has his position in front of the chair and propping himself up against that, he signals you to rest again on him, this time allowing you to lean back on his chest. He widens out his legs to get you comfortable, and now, you recline into him.

The action was so nonchalant, hardly any thought behind it, that no one even gave you two crap for it. However, they all stare enviously at the boy, “Someone give me the die.”

San fulfills his wish and does so, Mingi immediately going straight into throwing it down. The die rolls around till it lands on a red square, signaling the need for a ‘dare’. He doubles over to reach for a card, taking you down with him, and selects one of the ones at top before returning back.

He’s secretive of his card, pulling the same stunt Hongjoong did. Curiously, however, you peer over towards him. And so Mingi, all the while not taking his eyes off of the card, crosses his unoccupied arm in front of you and grabs hold of your cheek, forcibly turning you to the other side.

He mutter-reads the card softly to himself as you find humor in the way he had dealt with you, your cheek smushing against your mouth. After a period, he drops the card and extends an arm out to San, signaling him to pass the alcohol over.

“What the- you guys are pussies.” Yunho chides while Wooyoung shakes his head disapprovingly.

“Oh, booo. Y/N, do you know what this means?” He asks you, Mingi lowering his other arm so you could crane your neck back to Wooyoung.

The anxiety bubbling inside renders you clueless at the thought of knowing you’re next up, and so you stare blankly at him, “What does it mean?”

“Unless you want everything to go tits up, you need to do what’s on the cards. No matter what it says.” He finishes off his statement with a shrug, and Yunho nods encouragingly.

You feel a drop in your palm as Mingi hands you over the die, nervousness flowing through you, “I- okay.”

Your heart is pounding against your rib cage when you start to shake your enclosed hand, a mix between sweat and fear coating the cube. You release it shortly after and watch it roll around in front of you.

Eventually, the velocity of it slows and the wild spinning stops, leaving a scarlett-red square staring back at you. A ‘dare’.

“Oh, our first dare.” There’s a bite to Wooyoung’s tone, proving obvious that he's choosing to ignore the past few rounds.

San leans forward for you and grabs a card, handing it off to you, "You can do this."

You don’t even look at it immediately and instead wait until you were back against Mingi before reading it aloud to the others.

“Did someone turn up the temperatures?" you start off steadily, "Suddenly, you’re feeling hot. Have the others player choose which piece of clothing to remove, hope this helps your problem…”

Keeping your eyes locked on the words. You trail off towards the end, not finding the courage to look up knowing they're all watching you. Undressing you in their heads.

“We get to choose?” Yunho happily accepts this feat as does everyone else. They make your already rapid heart accelerate, but what’s even worse is how the stupid throb below intensifies.

Hongjoong, ever so leisurely, grabs hold of the open flap from your pajama bottoms and wiggles the fabric around, "I say we get rid of these."

San perks up excitedly at the proclamations, “I second. Y/N, you don’t need those on anymore.”

This is so wrong. So, incredibly wrong.

While you're distracted by those two, you fail to notice Mingi traveling a hand down to the waist band of your pants, lifting it up to hardly reveal the shadow of your underwear line and bare skin, “Can you take ‘em off for us?”

“Let’s go, Y/N-ie. You can’t keep us waiting.” Wooyoung pouts while also tugging at the other pant leg.

The pleads of the group grow, while your determination to not do it shrinks. God, are they making this difficult for you.

After a few more begs, and a few more touches, you break and decidedly give in, “F-Fine, I'll get these off.”

Mingi breaths out, the hand that was on your waist band slipping below to touch your smooth, outer leg. He teases the others by showing them bits and pieces of your skin, not fully pulling your pants down till Yunho comes to the other side in helps of tugging them off of you.

Collectively, they all aid in discarding your bottoms and once they’re gone, you try to suppress the urge to cover yourself. There, in full display for everyone to see, are your tight, pale yellow panties that’re always your favorite to wear to bed.

But when you’re damn-near half naked in front of a group of boys, you’re mentally scolding yourself for not wearing something more attractive; like how one of your roommates owns a lacy, black thong that you’ve seen one too many times before.

Hongjoong brings a light graze to your now exposed legs, tracing around your skin, “You’re so cute when you listen to us.”

"Look, there's even little flowers." San pokes fun at you, even going as far as pinching your underwear in a teasing manner.

“Can- Can we move on?” You’re letting out small huffs while Mingi brings a hand down to rub at your thigh.

"Aww, alright, alright. Guys, let's ease up on her." Yunho reaches over your legs to retrieve the lonely die from the ground.

The rest of the boys oblige, them returning to their spots with slick smiles on their face. Sure, they'll play the game, but just know, they're in it for the long haul.

And it’s going to get way worse than this.

Yunho gives his fist a hardy shake before releasing it to the ground. The die quickly spins before falling still and revealing a ‘skip turn’ square for all the group to see. He lets out a ‘damn’, then moves onto Wooyoung, who’s taking the cube willingly.

“It’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it.” He darts his tongue out to the side while bringing two hands to cover up the die, jiggling all around till he drops it.

It lands on red, ‘dare’, and eagerly, Wooyoung snags one of the cards from the top of the scarlett pile, “Demonstrate your oral skills on a banana or peach,” he reads with an amusement to his tone, “Or if you have the real the real thing, that’s double points.”

Your eyes close as you take a deep inhale, dreading the next words to be spoken from his lips.

"Banana or peach...." He fake ponders, stroking his chin while staring up at the ceiling, "Hmm, I guess if I have to, I'll go with the peach."

"But we don't have any on us." San makes point in which Wooyoung feigns stupidity.

"Oh, you're right Sannie. Well, then what am I supposed to do?"

Almost defeated, your eyes widen after feeling a hand cupping your ankle. Wooyoung's giving you an expression, a mix between cunning and slyness, "Y/N-ie, what do you think?"

You gape back at him, "What I- I don't think anything."

"Well, don't we have the real thing?" He quips, inching closer, and you have to physically bite you inner lip to stop a whine from coming out.

Just the thought of what he was insinuating, it's just so.....dirty that you couldn't help the way you were feeling. And you aren't sure how much more you could take.

"I...I guess technically - we do-"

"Yah, Hongjoong, what's the rule about challenges and dares that involve other players?" Wooyoung calls back and the senior's fast to respond.

"If another player's required to participate due to a card but refuses, they must be the ones to take the drink instead." He reads off of the manual so swiftly you'd almost think he has it memorized.

"Would poor Y/N rather drink than let Wooyoung show off his skills?" Yunho mocks, causing, and for the first time this evening, a tiny, nearly inaudible whimper to buzz from you.

The noise leaves the rest of the group stunned.

Wooyoung regards you and just so leisurely does he fall in between your legs, now face to face with your clothed cunt, "You'd really rather drink? I promise, I won't be too long."

"Don't leave him hanging." San nudges and the rest of the group follow in the protests.

"But I..." you quiet down, "In front of everyone?"

Hongjoong leans back on his hands, intently watching, "We don't mind."

"Just, relax." Mingi guides you to rest again on his chest, providing slack for Wooyoung to draw your hips closer. You could feel his hot breath in huffs and it's driving you mad.

"Can I? Please?" He finishes off and it's then you give him a slight nod.

"Oh, my-” Yunho groans, and you almost copy him in the way Wooyoung brings a hand up to your underwear and pushes it to side.

"I'll be...quick." He mutters, eyes tracing all around your sex. His tongue darts out then before you could react, he's sliding the wet muscle up the length of your pussy.

You gasp at the feeling. Finally, a source of stimulation for you to enjoy.

He goes in again, lapping at you till he reaches your clit and sucks on it. Waves of pleasure ripple throughout your core with each slurp of your bud. Wooyoung shifts to wrap his hands around your thigh for support as he continues going down on you.

You throw a hand over your mouth to cover the scream that was just about to be let out. And next thing you know, your hips begin circling deep into his mouth while he guzzles away at your sweet pussy.

"Damn, you don't need to fucking eat her." San scoffs, which breaks Wooyoung from the haze he was in. Absentmindedly, he pulls away from your cunt with a satisfied grin, but not before going back in to give you a quick kiss on your lips. Your pussy lips.

The action makes you quiver and if he had carried on, you were sure you would've came all over his face.

"Holy fuck." Yunho breathes out shakily and it's taking all of his strength to not palm himself like a fucking pervert in front of everyone.

Wooyoung scoots back to his original spot while you're left panting on top of Mingi. What the actual hell just happened?

"Let's check the damage." Hongjoong eyes are glazed as he's watching your fucked out expression and hell, if it doesn't turn him on.

A hand gets brought around to your front and grips the peak of your underwear, scrunching it enough to transform it into a line then scoots off to the side. Your glistening, thick cunt is now open and on display for everyone to see.

"Fuck, I'm burning this into head." San whines and subtly, not-so subtly, grabs at the loose area around his pelvis and adjusts his pants.

Mingi's still holding onto your panties as Wooyoung gloats about how good you taste in front of the group, yet your mind's distracted by some sort of growth forming on your lower back.

"Come on, Wooyoung, give me the die so we can keep on playing." Hongjoong's nearly drunk off of his own lust, the way he wants to end up in the same situation as his junior.

If there's one thing he couldn't deny, it's that lately, you have been driving all of these boys crazy.

"Wait, I wanna hear what Y/N thinks of my skills," he turns to you with a self-boasting grin, "Was my game good?"

"Oh, Woo." Yunho's rolling his eyes at him. God, the last thing the group needs was Wooyoung's ego being inflated to the max.

"It was..." you take in a huff, quickly recalling the previous events, "it was good."

Wooyoung laughs lightly before going in for a lip bite, "You flatter me. But, hey, if you ever wanted a round 2, I'll get you alone and show you all of my-"

"Dare." Hongjoong interrupts, shutting the chatty boy up. You hadn't even realized he had rolled with you being too occupied in Wooyoung's proclamations.

"Is he gonna pussy out again?" Mingi mutters, mainly to you, causing you to dryly chuckle. Your head is still foggy from the timely pulses below to illicit any stronger of a reaction.

Reaching forward, Hongjoong grabs at a new card, this time actually reading it aloud, “Don’t be shy, choose a player of your choice to give a quick peck too.”

Your eyes lazily scan around the scene as everyone curiously stares at Hongjoong, whom stared back with an ever-lasting gaze. The silence is loud, though his thoughts were flashing across his face, exposing everything he was thinking. And it was evident that what he needs, is the person right in front of him.

“Y/N, come here.” He calls you over with a nod and you protests. Physically, you’re feeling weak, but mentally, goodness are you are completely, utterly fucked.

“I-” Whining, you let your breaths do the talking to try and captivate your fatigueness. How come you were always the brut of the cards? Can’t they give you a break?

The dark look your senior gives is enough to put your whimpering to an end, “Hey, let’s go.”

Mingi pushes you forward as a head start and you catch yourself with your hands, taking in the dark carpet underneath.

“You wanna crawl over to me? Hell, I’ll take that too.” Hongjoong laughs maniacally and you’re left wondering what happened to the boy that had reassured you comfort just hours before. Had he always been this way?

Nonetheless, you still do it. You make your way over to Hongjoong all the while crawling on all 4’s. The guys couldn’t get enough of this. Your submissive state, yet your will to keep going, it was fucking ammo for them. Just fueling their running desires the longer this game continued.

You stop on your knees in front of him, then cautiously you work your way up until you were eye to eye with Hongjoong. He’s watching all over your face, part of him searching for a sign that said you wanted to stop. He knew he would, at the drop of a hat if he saw you were feeling uncomfortable, he would whisk you out of here himself.

But Hongjoong also knows, just like how you know. That secretly, you were into this shit. Little, book-reader Y/N loved being publicly humiliated and shamed for the sole purpose of getting her horny.

Which is why he doesn’t feel bad when he dips down to force your lips on his, the supposed quick peck being thrown out of the window. He’s enveloping himself into you and taking your mouth like he’d been starving for it.

He’s going at you with a level of neediness even he would’ve never expected from himself. Oh, how your lips essentially get swallowed up by his with every kiss, he’d hadn’t pictured he could get this turned on from kissing someone, his pants are so damn tight. And shit, the urge to fucking push you to the ground and make you grind on his thigh is literally clawing at him. He really is trying so damn hard to control himself.

Little noises begin to leave your lips as it fills the soundless room, and by the second you can sense Hongjoong becoming more frazzled, more sporadic in the way he’s dominating you, pushing himself further onto you.

“Are you about to take her right here?” Yunho coughs out, trying to bring attention the fact that there’s 4 other people in the room who have been witnessing this steamy make out.

Hongjoong comes up briefly from you to respond, “Fuck off,” then he’s back onto your mouth, kissing you with so much passion that you don’t even mind about the watchers. Because you knew that despite their complaints and protests, they were enjoying this too, you just knew they were.

“I’m calling it, Y/N get your cute ass back over here,” San grabs hold of your underwear then wastes no time in yanking you back, separating you and Hongjoong mid-kiss. You wobble backwards into your original spot, your lips so wet and pink, it looks like you just got done sucking on a lollipop; as Hongjoong reels himself in from it all. If you two hadn’t been stopped, there’s no tell in what he would’ve done to you.

“You two would’ve down right fucked each other in the middle of the circle,” Wooyoung muses, but not because he was repulsed by this fact, but rather for how sexy it was watching you unravel at the hands of his friend.

San starts to roll next, “I better get lucky like you shits did.” He shakes and releases the die when it lands on a ‘black’ square, the first of all tonight, “Oh, shit.”

“This is gonna be interesting.” Yunho mutters as Mingi’s fingers, after getting yourself restated back in between his legs, dance up the naked skin of your legs, absentmindedly of course, and works his way to the inner parts of your thigh, just gently rubbing at your flesh.

That action causes your eyes to briefly flutter but you try your best to focus on San, who’s reaching in for a ‘challenge’ card. He pulls at the untouched deck then goes to speak aloud.

“Choose an opponent and a player out of the group,” it’s apparent’s he’s reading ahead in his mind, judging by the way the corners of his mouth turn upright, “With a minute on the clock, let’s see who can leave the darkest mark, a hickey, on the player’s neck. Winner get’s card.”

Your heart’s pounding. Oh, god.

“Y/N, can you be my player?” Despite him asking, whining even, a mock of curiosity washing over his features, it was clear that his question is more of a demand.

Mingi laughs heartily while pushing his head against the side of yours, “Yeah, you gonna be his little play thing?”

“Woah, Mingi,” San throws his hands up exasperatedly, “How about you be my opponent, cause I already know I'll destroy your ass.”

The competition that’s ensuing riles up the rest of the group as Mingi swiftly agrees. Next thing you know, you’re being shoved into the middle of the circle, firstly on your knees then sitting crisscrossed as the two boys work their way over you.

With San on your left and Mingi on your right, your having to mentally calm yourself down from all the exposure you’ve endured so far. And how this round might actually be the death of you.

The rest of the group moves around till they sit front row in front of you, ready to watch the throw-down. You take in the boys in front of you.

Yunho, as evidence on his face, feels pleasure in this scenario and he’s so intrigued in how this will go. Wooyoung’s yanking out his phone from his pocket; and right as Hongjoong’s sits across from you, you can see through heavy lids him dropping his gaze down to your uncovered body.

He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s shamelessly watching you, and maybe that’s the reason for why you genuinely start to feel yourself drip liquid.

“I’m putting a minute on the clock,” Wooyoung officiates, scrolling on the phone that’s currently placed on the floor.

Both men beside you start to get into positions, hunching over to become more level with your throat.

“You have such a pretty neck,” San brings a hand to lightly stroke the large area, “Can’t wait to give you my mark.”

“San, you can’t say that.” You mew back, completely in a daze.

“Why not? It’s true.” He’s still running his fingertips along your skin and he could easily swear every touch made you whimper. God, could he listen to you all day.

“Gonna fuck up your neck, Y/N, just you wait.” It’s Mingi’s time to talk you up, him nearly mouthing that sentence onto your open skin, “Gonna leave a hickey so big people’ll think you’re getting it good.”

You briefly go to turn to him, but with Wooyoung announcing the commencement of the challenge, you’re forced back into the middle as they both sit impatiently.

“Start in 3…2….and….1!”

They pounce. Immediately, they stick on your neck like a vacuum, just taking in as much of the area as possible. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as you feel their sucking turn into straight buzzes shooting down to core.

It’s indescribable the feeling your experience. Both boys on you like their life is on the line, but it’s so interesting how you notably recognize the difference in how they’re forming the hickey.

San’s lips are more precise, smaller, tiny sucks with occasional licks. Mingi on the other hand, wide, open kisses are his forte. His singular mouth is covering up a vast area that you already knew it would be hard to cover this up.

“Dude, they are so into this.” Yunho comments while Hongjoong tries his best to not actually cream his pants at your expression.

“Look at her face, she looks like she’s gonna cum on herself at any second.” He nottes which causes a series of moans, one of them yours, to fire throughout the crowd.

“20 seconds,” Wooyoung warns, eyes trained onto the scene in front of him.

They go in harder. They’re putting more pressure onto your neck, sucking so hard now that you can’t help the mini whines that escape you. You actually think you’re about to pass out.

The build up of stimulation over the course of this night has left you with an everlasting throb that’s threatening to explode at any time. The more they suck, the heavier your breaths get, and you’re struggling to contain your new expressions.

It’s all starting to become so much, the sensation boys are causing trickles down to your cunt in waves, so intense and pleasurable that even your body starts to stutter.

Wooyoung’s begins to countdown, “10….9…”

There’s cheering in the audience, egging the participants on while you’re still fighting your inner self to not spill out. Mingi and San aren’t slowing, and are holding their pace through and through.

“3…2…annnnd…stop.”

The moment they detach themselves from you, you were already game over, with your orgasm taking over for everyone to see. You’re moaning as it happens, eyes shut and hips bucking forward on nothing.

“No fucking shot.” Wooyoung’s eyebrows are raised as his mouth hangs low.

You’re too consumed in your shakes to even hear the other remarks spewing from everyone else. Oh, you really tried to keep yourself under control. The orgasm isn’t as strong as it could’ve been, like if there had been genuine stimulation on your clit, but god did it feel good to finally let loose.

“You came untouched,” Hongjoong quips, part of him surprised the other so horny it’s making it hard for him to think, “God, Y/N, give us a warning next time, yeah?”

Yunho mewls with closed eyelids, “Guys, if I said I almost nutted from that, would that be weird?”

“Honestly, I think I leaked a little bit,” Shamelessly, Wooyoung lightly shrugs his shoulders while admittingly so, the lower half of his body squirming ever so gently.

“You really are a dirty girl.” San murmurs and trails your body up and down.

“Getting off on just a couple of hickeys? What the hell?” Mingi laughs bitterly, still reeling in from seeing you literally cum on yourself.

“We have to…we need to see the results, right?” Your face is beat. You think you’ve passed the road of embarrassment 2 stops ago, and now you’re heading straight for a ditch. A ditch full of nothing but straight satisfaction and contentment.

“Oh, right,” Hongjoong leans in closer to inspect both areas, “Mm, looks like San’s is darker.”

As San celebrates his declared victory, Mingi contorts into displeasure, his nose scrunching, “What?”

He wastes no time in grabbing hold of your chin and pulling it to their other side. He looks over this space, then push your head left to review his own.

“Yours looks like someone tried to draw a fucking lake with a dried up red marker.” Yunho criticizes which leaves the boy offended.

Instantly, Mingi’s ready to protest, “I want a rematch.”

Hongjoong waves a hand to dismiss that requests, “No, no, we’re not gonna redo the whole thing just cau-” But Mingi’s back onto your neck, this time going in on the middle of your throat, sucking with a much greater force that it basically makes you weak.

“Woah! Woah! Woah!”

Arms fly towards you as the rest of the boys work to separate the two of you, Mingi, almost comedically, looking genuinely confused as to why he's being split from you.

Wooyoung grabs the unoccupied die and shoves it into the palm of Mingi, “Roll this and go back to your spot.”

You watch Mingi be offended, him making a distasteful look, “Who do you think you are?” He grumbles yet does exactly that, taking you with him while he reverts back to your original places.

With you being dragged against the carpet, the after effects of your orgasm leaves you quaking at even the slightest touch, the remnants of the past actions driving your pulsing cunt.

Before you know it, you’re being repositioned in between Mingi’s legs as he begrudgingly rolls the die, throwing it down with such an aggression. It rolls and rolls till eventually it lands on a ‘skip turn’, and with soft conversations flowing around he hands you the die.

Now, you’re feeling completely, and utterly fucked out. So much so that you put zero effort into shaking the cube then tossing it to the ground, never having had such a vitalizing night before.

It rotates on its axis before slowing down to a red square. You aren’t sure how much more you can handle, trying to suppress a groan. Immediately, you reach forward for the ‘dare’ card, then begin to read it aloud.

“Everyone deserves a sweet treat, the person to your right especially,” Warily, you peer over towards Yunho, who’s ever more intrigued in the card, “Have them find something tasty and lick it off of any part you. Player’s choice.”

“My choice?” His throat nearly dries at the thought. He could choose anywhere. Any place on your body.

“What’re you gonna lick off of her?” San asks, his own curious heart gradually racing by the second. Everyone’s thinking the same thing, the direction this is heading.

Hongjoong lolls his head to his side, “Yah, how about those donuts?”

Oh, right, the ones from earlier. You had eaten yours clean before this, but as you glance back to Yunho, you see him pulling out the package, unopened.

"Feels like I'm craving some right about now." He mutters and regards the donuts before doing a glance over to you. He's analyzing every inch of you, determining what he wants.

You feel his fiery stare but when a small smile appears on his face, that's when you ask, "What're you thinking?"

He lowers his head, almost mockingly, and without missing a beat, he sighs, "Pull down that tank top for us, okay?"

You were too fatigued to even argue, sluggishly raising your arms to yank the thin fabric down only slightly. It's then Mingi who grabs roughly at the rest of your tank and slides the material down till it hits your midline.

Your tits are out; fat, puffy nippy erected just the way Yunho likes them, and everyone is instantly drawn to your breasts.

"They're even better than what I was imagining," someone mumbles, you aren't sure who because what you're focusing on, is the way Yunho looks about ready to jump you.

"Face more towards me."

You follow his instruction, well, more like you allow yourself to be turned by Mingi towards Yunho, but either way, Yunho's satisfied. He makes his short distance to you, stopping only when he's mere centimeters in front, sort of mimicking Wooyoung's earlier position.

"Then....I'll get these opened," Even though he's talking mainly to himself, you still follow every one of his movements, from him ripping wide the package to him taking out a donut and sprinkling the powdered sugar onto your skin.

He covers both breasts in the sweetness, dusting a generous amount all around till you're a powdery white, ready to get licked raw.

"Does it have to be just licking?" Yunho ponders, and for the record, it wasn't a you question, he was asking his friends.

"Nah, I think whatever is necessary should be good." San answers which leaves Yunho in gratification. He knows exactly what he wants, and it's to absolutely devour you.

So, that's what he does.

Quickly, he throws down the remaining donuts before latching onto your tits, taking in your flesh whole and it seems at first, he's disregarding the whole point of this dare.

Instead of focusing on the powdered sugar, he's going straight for your nipple, lapping and licking at the bud then switching over to the next.

He's cupping your breasts with his hands, and as he's suctioning onto you, his hands work mindlessly to fondle your skin, juggling the two sacks.

It's a feeling you've never felt before. You want to wince out in pain but could you even consider this as such? The way he's going in on you, the swift jolts of pain, if you could even call it that, soon transfer into that feel-good sensation you're all too accustomed with.

You're breathing falls in synch with his action, and rely on Mingi's chest as support for when you rest back on him, one of your hands throwing itself up into his hair to help with your wriggling.

With each movement from his tongue it's like another added layer for your pleasure to hold on to, your thighs squeezing around Yunho to alleviate the build up in your core, and by goodness, did you love it.

Yunho finally ends off the dare with what it should have been, him licking up the remaining sweetness on your tits with an overly loud slurp. And then he pops himself off of you with large grin, a coat of wetness evident around his mouth, "I am so doing that again."

"Can I be next?" Mingi murmurs, going in to play with your sticky tits, while you drop your arm down. He watches the way they'd ripple from his force before dropping down with a shake.

"You are so sexy, my god." Hongjoong rubs a palm over his face, eyeing your upper body. He must be a good man, truly. To be able to resist taking you right here, right now, his will power is incredible.

"Let's do one more, then call it for the night. Poor Y/N looks like she's about to pass out." San suggests, with him every other second glancing down at your chest, and you merely throw a hand up in agreement.

This hangout had went so left-field from what you were originally thinking, but you would be a liar if you said this didn't awaken something in you. Something you genuinely liked.

Yunho goes back to his spot right next to you, and Mingi decides to keep you two right where you guys are. Wooyoung takes the die from off of the ground, and shakes it with some much power, "Last one, fast one."

He throws the cube down and you all watch it spin and spin and spin until it stops on a pitch, ‘black’ square.

"Oh, hell." Yunho laughs out and you even grumble out a 'oh no'. Because, of course it has to end like this.

Wooyoung draws the last card from the all-black deck and straight way he begins to chuckle, though the way his eyes crinkled speaks to something much different, "The end is drawing near, everyone is feeling tired and it's clear it's time to wrap up for the day. To finish off the game, choose a player of your choice and have everyone finish on them."

After reading this aloud, the quiet that ensues is massive.

It's the calm before the storm.

Silence before an explosion.

Then…..

“Fuck, where should we put her?”

“Let’s have Y/N-ie on the ground.”

“My cock is throbbing so fucking hard right now.”

“This might be my biggest load yet.”

You’re being forced down into the middle, tits up, and all you see are more and more bodies popping into frame. They tower over you and just the sight is enough to get you aroused all over again. They’re undoing their pants, dropping them past their knees and leaving them all in their underwear.

“Take off my underwear,” Wooyoung, who’s closest to you, orders and you do. With shaky hands, you roll over to the side and bring down the boxers till it aligned with his pants and in return, his thick, naked, cock springs out, your mouth salivating.

“Do me next.” Hongjoong requests, and so you roll over to the other side and assist him. After a few more of the requests, soon everyone is bare and ready to complete this last task, and you go back to laying down.

Chest out and all, your eyes scan around to the scene of all the boys jerking away at their foreskin, some of them groaning as they continue watching you and the compromising position you’re in.

“Stroke me a little bit, can you do that for me?” Yunho asks, scooting closer to you and you oblige. You replace his hand for your own, wrapping around the hard length and begin to tug up and down.

As you’re occupied in doing this, San comes up and crouches down next to you, “Let me put it in your mouth really quick.”

Nodding, you widen your lips and allow him to dart his tip in and out of your hole all the while continuously rubbing Yunho.

“I wanna know what your mouth feels like too.” Mingi gruffs and so removing yourself from San, you place your attention on his girthy cock, taking as much of it as you could. Then someone else asks for a handjob, and without peeking you grip them nearby, sliding your palm against their shaft.

You make your way around, stimulating the group as best as you could. One after another, you’d find your mouth would be used to pleasure someone, while both of your hands would be busy jacking off a couple of others.

The ones that would remain to have themselves masturbate would find ways to combat their lust, like slapping their head against your sappy tits or rubbing their dicks on your stomach, leaving patches of pre-cum behind before you’d switch to aid them.

At some point, a body begins to shudder.

“F-Fuck, I think- I’m clo..close…” Hongjoong sputters, detaching himself from your mouth and going to jerk off and before he knows it, he starts to shoot out spurts of hot, viscous cum directly onto your face.

“I-I..” Yunho doesn’t even finish his sentence by the time his orgasm hits, his liquid aimed for around your mouth.

Person after person, ripples of orgasms hit the rest of the boys as they all spaz then cum sporadically everywhere, most of them not having a specific place but just desperately needed to release themselves, till eventually, they’re all finishing together.

“Oh, god.” Wooyoung groans as you work faster at his cock and basically milk him dry, any remaining cum dripping onto your breasts.

With a mix of grunts and whines, the flowing liquid begins to slow, and soon, everyone’s cocks are emptied out all over you. From face to torso, you are now, completely and utterly covered.

As heavy pants fill the room, some of guys dropping to the floor instantly while others make their way towards the bed, you continue resting on the floor and bask in the way you could literally feel left over cum dribble from chin an onto your neck.

You feel nasty. You feel dirty. Part of you is borderline disgusted with how even then, after all that you’ve endured, you still want to rut yourself against a pillow or something, fuck yourself on your own fingers, so needy to get off like how the guys did.

But that can come for another day. For now, the tiredness is catching up, heavy eyelids consuming you and just like that you shut your eyes and fall asleep, concluding the end to your single, dirty night.

- Bonus -

“Fuck, look at her legs,” San whimpers, pinching at his phone to zoom in on the photo, “Just wanna lick ‘em up.”

“Dude, are you still looking at photos of Y/N?” Wooyoung quips as he finishes tidying up bits of his room. Inviting friends over was not apart of his agenda this Saturday night, but after some convincing (and the promise of alcohol) he eventually agreed, even if there were other thing’s he’d rather do.

“How can I not?” He exits out of the photo of you at the beach then quickly scrolls through your Instagram, stopping on a dump from last Halloween of your innocently cute, yet busty angel costume, “Can I be honest about something?”

“Mm?” Wooyoung doesn’t face him when asking, again straightening up things in his room. Mingi and Yunho should be coming back at any minute with the second bottle, and Hongjoong said he’d be quick the snacks.

“I came to one of Y/N’s photos before,” San recalls the memory of him whacking away at his dick with one hand, the other propping his phone which showed a picture of you smiling side with a bouquet of tulips in your grasp. God, he loved that photo so much, “The one with the flowers.”

Wooyoung halts in his track and cranes his neck back to the boy sprawled out on his bed, “You came to a photo of her? God, have you no self-control?” At least whenever Wooyoung masturbates, it’s to videos he finds on the web that resemble you, not actual photos.

A light blush sprinkles across San’s cheeks, him closing out of the app and then sitting up on the mattress, “It wasn’t intentional…it just sort of happened.”

Wooyoung scoffs, “You’re a pervert. A pervert that’s going to corrupt my sweet, precious Y/N if you ever get your hands on her.”

“Oh for- you’ll be the one to corrupt her out of anyone,” San bites back right as the door swings open, revealing an excited Mingi and an intrigued Yunho.

“Fuck are you two arguing for?” Mingi belts, the sole bottle of alcohol tucked underneath his elbows. The two boys make their way over to the open chairs placed out for them, Yunho flopping down instantly while Mingi pulls out the bottle and sets it next to him on the ground.

“Dumb shit Wooyoung’s saying.” San offers as an answer and Wooyoung simply shrugs, part of him feeling the need to be deceitful.

“Joong not back yet?” Yunho mutters, stretching his hands above his head.

Wooyoung shakes his head, “Nah, he’s still out, taking forever tho.”

He hums in response when suddenly a memory flicks into his head and he immediately groans, “Aw, guys, did you see Y/N’s outfit today?” Yunho reminisces on earlier today where you wore a more fitting dress to classes, hugging just the right spots for everyone to see.

“And when she fucking dropped her notebook and bent over in front of us,” Mingi adds, picturing how round and full your ass looked in the dress, “Would’ve taken her right there.”

“Hell yeah.” The two fist bump as Mingi shifts over a bit, his foot accidentally kicking the liquor and sending it flying underneath the bed. Just as San mumbles out a ‘stupid’, Wooyoung clears his throat.

“Hey, guess what San did to a photo of Y/N-”

The words couldn’t even come out before San body slams Wooyoung straight to the ground, covering his mouth and preventing any form of slip up from happening, “Absolutely not.”

The junior cackles out loud and tries to pry the hand away from his face. A fight ensues, with San on top of Wooyoung, and Wooyoung defending himself. The other two simply watch in amusement at what’s happening in front of them.

The boys were so caught up in the scuffle, that to no one’s knowledge, Hongjoong barges into the room, and apparently, he’s brought a visitor with him.

"You gonna talk about me again?" Choi San threatens the junior whom he's currently hurting, applying pressure to the nape of his neck.

"Aish, aish!" Jung Wooyoung winces at the pain though, a crooked smile is present on his face, "What're you, a fucking barbarian? Get off."

At that statement, another uproar ensues. All of the boys shouting at him, yelling claims of "You took fucking forever!" "The hell?!" And other variations.

You raise your shoulders and tuck yourself inwards at the commotion yet, part of you seemingly enjoying the racket. A soft giggle flows out of you, which in turn makes your presence known.

“Y/N?” Jung Wooyoung questions first.

and you know the rest….

check out pt.2!

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sugarnspice630 · 15 days

Note

I wonder how would each member react that you wore a phenomenon perfume to seduce them (yk the tiktok trend,when the girlfriend wore that perfume and their boyfriend sniffing them like crazy.)

I wonder how ateez would react..

I would be happy if you do it 🥺

Hi anon! Omg I absolutely love this idea. I am also curious how Ateez would react in this situation, so let’s dive in to see what I’ve come up with! 😈🙏

Ateez's Reactions to You Using a Pheromone Perfume Around Them

A/N: Sometimes I changed the prompt to have already established the pheromone perfume or it wasn't necessarily used to seduce the member. I hope that's okay! I just got bored of essentially writing the same thing in different fonts so I had to change it up a bit for my sake, but all stories still involve the perfume! Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Hongjoong

Going for a night drive with Hongjoong, being the passenger princess like you loved. Listening to the music playing from the stereo and taking in the beautiful scenery of city life at night. The peaceful humming of Hongjoong singing along to the song currently playing and tapping the steering wheel to the beat. Sitting at a red light waiting to turn, you decided to dig in your bag for your perfume to "touch up your scent." Fortunately for Hongjoong, the perfume of choice for the night was the pheromone perfume that has been seen all over the internet. You saw videos of how crazy it made everyone’s boyfriends react, and you wanted to try it out on him. You opened the cap and rolled the perfume on your wrists and neck, snapping the cap back on the perfume and placing it into your bag. The light changed, and Hongjoong was able to turn. Your body leaned closer to him since you were turning left, and the air in the car blew the smell of your perfume over to him. He glanced over at you to make sure you didn’t spill anything since the smell was so strong. It was a smell he had never smelled before, but it was making his body react in an animalistic way.

“Mm, b-baby what did you just put on?”

“Nothing..just my usual perfume.” You smirked, realizing it had such a quick effect on him.

“Can’t be.” He shifted in his seat with his eyes forward. “This perfume is different than your other kind.” His grip on the wheel tightens, and he looks for a place to pull over. His breathing increases heavily as he keeps leaning over to your side of the car to catch a better whiff.

“Hongjoong what are you-?” You say as he quickly whips into an almost empty parking lot, harshly puts the car in park, and unfastens his seatbelt, crawling over to you. His face dove straight into your neck, and he was sniffing you like a wild dog. You reached your hand up to his face as he breathed in your smell.

“I’m sorry baby. We’ll get back to our drive later. I need to get more of you right now.”

Seonghwa

You were sitting in front of your vanity, getting ready for your date with Seonghwa. You were almost finished with your routine. Just a few more touch-ups you had to do. You had this perfume that Seonghwa loved when you wore it because it made him find you irresistible. Little did he know, it was a pheromone perfume that was meant to drive him crazy. You had seen it everywhere online and decided you wanted to try it out on him. You picked up your favorite lip gloss and rolled it across your lips. You see Seonghwa walking up to you in the mirror. You smiled softly as you watched him approach you.

“You look amazing darling~.” He said this as he kissed the top of your head, looking at you in the mirror.

“Thank you baby. I always try to look nice for you.”

"Well, you don’t have to try that hard~ since you always look amazing.” He rests his head on top of yours as he gently wraps his arms around you. You finished getting ready as he cuddled you. Shortly after, you finished your makeup and turned to Seonghwa.

“All done~.”

“Mmm, not yet. You’re forgetting something.” He says this as he gets up off your head to reach for the vile of pheromone perfume on the desk.

“Seonghwa I can’t wear that.”

“Please darling? I wanna put it on you.” He said it with a slight pout as he popped off the cap of the perfume, and you couldn’t help but smile and nod as he seemed so excited to help you out. He dotted the bottle along your collarbone, careful not to put on too much as it would drive him absolutely insane. He placed the cap back on the bottle and set it down. He looked you in the eyes and up and down, taking in the view before him. Leaning down to take a small whiff, the smell of the perfume fills his senses and his head.

“Now I’ll have to fight all the men who try to come after you tonight.” He says with a smirk as he takes your hand and helps you up off the chair to go on your date.

Yunho

You felt bad that every time Yunho would talk about Valorant or Spider-Man, you always had to just nod and smile. The guilt was setting in because you could not really understand what he was saying. The excitement and passion on his face was enough to keep you interested, but the information would never stick because you had no baseline, and then you felt bad when he would ask you, “Oh, remember this thing I told you?” and you couldn’t remember. To make your teaching interesting, you put on a pheromone perfume that you recently bought online. Apparently, the perfume had an effect on men that activated their hormones and made them go crazy over you. Gliding the perfume on your wrist and across your neck, making sure to put it on your sweet spots. You picked up a notebook and pen to be able to take notes to study. You walked over to where Yunho was.

“Yunho I want you to teach me about Valorant.”

“H-huh? All of a sudden?”

“Yeah! I feel bad when I can’t remember the things you tell me, so give me the basics so I can study and be able to remember better.”

“Ah..o-okay. Have a seat.” He said, patting next to him, smiling and looking at you. You walked over and sat down next to him. The breeze from you sitting down went over to Yunho, and a new scent filled his nose. His breath hitched in his throat, and you gave him a confused expression.

“You alright love?”

“I-I don’t know.” He leaned in closer to you and took a deep breath. “Did you get a new perfume?”

“Yeah, I saw it online and wanted to try it.” You admitted it shyly, hiding what the perfume actually did and admiring the way Yunho was acting.

“It- it smells really good. I like it a lot.” He leaned closer to you and breathed in heavily again. Placing a hand on the back of your neck and sticking his nose into the crevice.

“Yunho- what about Valorant?”

“Valorant is the least important thing right now. Give me a few minutes with you instead.”

Yeosang

Trying out the viral pheromone perfume that so many ladies on the internet said worked wonders. After doing dozens of hours of research to find the best one, you placed an order and waited for it to come in the mail. You were busy doing other things at the time it was delivered, so Yeosang brought the package in for you.

“This has your name on it baby.”

“Oh! Thank you!” You say as you take the package and smile to yourself.

“What did you order?”

“Ah, n-nothing. Just something I saw on the internet that I wanted. People have been saying it’s really good.” You shyly smile and set the package on your side. Yeosang nods and lets you get back to your work. When he leaves the room, you excitedly open the package and examine the product. You open the box and slide out a little dark blue vial that has a ball-roll cap on the end. You took the cap off and sniffed it. You couldn’t really smell anything, but you thought maybe it would smell different on your skin. You applied it generously to your skin and popped the cap back on. Waiting a few minutes for it to soak in and trying to sniff your wrists. There was a soft vanilla scent; it was quite pleasant, but not like your everyday perfume. You wanted to see how Yeosang reacted to it, since the internet made it seem instantaneous. You walked out of your room and went over to him.

“Did you try your thing out?” He asked as he watched you walk in. You nodded and hummed a “mmhmm”, walking over to him, hoping the smell would permeate over to him quickly.

“What do you think~?”

“Well, I’m not sure what you got.”

“It was a new perfume I wanted to try.” You said this as you held your wrist near his nose. He leaned closer to take a whiff of it and pondered for a moment.

“Did you...put enough on? It doesn’t really smell like anything.”

“I-I think I did..” Your voice trails off, feeling saddened and tricked by the internet yet again.

“I mean, I smell something, but it’s just not that strong.” Yeosang says a little more upbeat cause he could tell you were getting slightly upset. You sniffed your wrist again, and it still smelled the same.

“Maybe I got the wrong kind?”

“Everyone’s skin takes perfumes differently darling. Don’t feel bad.” Yeosang reassured you as he placed his hand on your shoulder and rubbed gently. You nodded softly and laid your head on his shoulder. He breathed in softly and noticed that something felt different about him. His body was reacting in some way to this new perfume you had on. He tried not to notice what was going on, but as he breathed in more, the scent only got more and more overwhelming for him. He fidgeted in his seat, and you couldn’t help but notice.

“You alright Yeosang?”

“I-I think I understand what this perfume does now.” He quickly said this under his breath before he turned over and placed you down on the couch, diving his nose into your neck to take in more of the scent. "Y-You should wear this more often my sweet."

San

Secretly applying this new pheromone perfume that you bought online in the room next to San’s gaming room. You bought it because you heard it smells really good, and men will find you irresistible. You unexpectedly got a call from one of your friends begging you to meet up for dinner, as you haven’t hung out in forever because of being busy with work. You accepted, seeing as San was busy with gaming. You walked into his room, tapped on his shoulder, and he removed his headphone from one ear to listen to you. You tell him you were going to go out with your friend. He nodded quickly, breathed in, and was immediately stunned by what he was smelling. He excused himself from the game and removed his headset, standing up and touching all over you, pushing himself closer to you.

“Darling, d-did you do something different?”

“No, just the usual.” You smirked to yourself, surprised it had this quick of an effect on him. He pressed his nose into the crevice of your neck, breathing heavily through his nose. “S-Sannie I have to go now.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He growls as he pushes his body even closer to yours and breathes in quicker to gather more of your scent. You bring your hands up to try to push him off of you so that you can get ready to go meet up with your friend.

“San…I-I have to go- my friend-“ Your words are being cut off by San kissing and rubbing his nose along your neck.

“Sorry darling, but you’re not meeting with your friend tonight. I need you here with me instead.”

Mingi

“I got this for you love.” Mingi said as he handed you a small gift bag. You smiled and awed as you were taken aback by his sudden and kind action. Mingi always loved buying you things that he thought you would like. You carefully opened the bag and unrolled the tissue paper that was wrapped around the small, long, rectangular box inside the bag. You examined the box and saw it was a type of roll-on perfume. The label had a bunch of different fruits on the side, so you assumed it had a fruity smell. You smiled and looked at Mingi with loving eyes. He had a flustered look on his face.

“Thank you Mingi! I appreciate it very much.”

"Ah, it’s nothing really…I-I saw that a lot of girls online were buying it and saying how good it was, and my girl always has to have the best.” He was fidgeting with his hands at his sides.

“I love you so much Mingi.” You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, and he smiled at your gesture. “I’ll go try it out right now.” You excused yourself to the bathroom and opened the perfume box. You sniffed the cap and couldn’t really smell anything at first. Applying it gently to your skin, you sniffed where you placed it and got a hint of a citrus smell. It was a light scent that you could use in case of an emergency. Setting the tube back on the bathroom counter, you walked back out to the room Mingi was in.

“This smells pretty good Mingi, thank you!” You said with glee as you sat down beside him. As you sat down, the air blew the perfume smell over to him, and he breathed in. The intoxicating smell immediately filled his nostrils and filled his head with thoughts. You saw him tense up as you sat down and raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah everything’s fine.” He smiled and shifted in his seat. You dismissed his odd behavior and cuddled up next to him. Mingi kept shifting in his seat and leaning down to smell the perfume on you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mingi holted his actions and sighed.

“I have to tell you something….that perfume…it’s a..pheromone perfume.” He stuttered out and couldn’t meet your eyes.

“O-oh…” Your face flushed as it connected why he bought it for you.

“Yeah…and now my brain and body are on fire, and I need to show you how you just made me feel.”

Wooyoung

You had had a small argument with Wooyoung earlier in the day, which resulted in you not talking to each other that much. You both had errands you needed to run, so you went together just to save time. Stupidly, you had forgotten something inside the house and asked if he could run inside quick and get it for you since you were already buckled in the driver’s seat. He silently nodded, let out a small "mhm,” and got out of the car to get your item. You couldn’t handle Wooyoung not talking to you even after you apologized, so you decided to try out this pheromone perfume that one of your friends had given you. You rolled it on your wrists and neck, the spots that make the scent stick the best. You saw Wooyoung coming back in the rear view mirror and quickly placed the perfume back in your bag. He opened the door and handed you the item you had forgotten, leaning close to you to make sure you didn’t have to stretch too far to reach it. You heard him take a sniff through his nose, and he paused for a second.

“Are you wearing that perfume?”

“What are you talking about Youngie?”

“That perfume. I’ve been seeing it all over the internet.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just my normal perfume-“ Your words were cut off by Wooyoung diving his face into your neck and placed his hand on the other side. He kissed the side of your face.

“You smell so good baby.” You smirk to yourself, seeing how feral he was acting over your scent. Driving his nose further into your neck and leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck.

“Are you not mad at me anymore?”

“I couldn’t be mad at you anymore, but our errands are going to have to wait a little longer.”

Jongho

Jongho was planning on going out with the boys today, but you decided to try to see if you could keep him home with you instead. You secretly rolled on the pheromone perfume that you got a while ago that he really seemed to like on you, for obvious reasons. Just before he walked into your room to tell you he was getting ready to go, he made a small knock on your door. You greeted him with a smile, and he smiled right back at you. Walking over towards you to give you a kiss goodbye.

"Alright baby, the boys are waiting for me outside."

"Okie, bye sweetheart. I love you. Have fun!" You tell him as he leans down towards you to give you a kiss on the forehead before he leaves. After the kiss, he makes his way back over to the door of your room, but turns around before fully walking out, looking back at you and softly licking his lips. He walks back over to you again, and you're confused as to why he came back. Leaning down close to you to get another whiff of your scent. He has this huge smile on his face as he leans back up.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"What do you mean Jongho?"

"The-the perfume? That I like. The special perfume?" The smile on his face is so contagious, you can't help but smile back at him as well.

"No~." You tease him as you softly laugh at his reaction to it, knowing that you are getting exactly what you want. "Just go have fun with the boys!"

"O-okay yeah, you're right. I'm going now." He says as he slowly walks backwards to the door, still smiling like a fool at you. "Love you!"

"Love you too baby." He reaches for the door handle and goes to pull it shut. Not a moment passes and he opens the door back up.

"Do you wanna watch a movie instead?" Popping his head out from the side of the door.

"What happened with going out with the boys~?" You can't help but laugh at him wanting to stay with you, and it's all thanks to the perfume you put on.

"Y-yeah, I think I'd rather go out with you though babe. Stay in for the night, you know?" He waltzes his way back into your room, coming closer to you and catching another whiff of the perfume.

"I guess I can't say no to you~."

"Oh, I know you can't." His face is pressed into your neck, and you feel the gentle air coming in and out of his nose as he breathes in and out, taking in your scent.

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @xuchiya @myloveforyunho

@yeosangsbbg @sanipan @10nantscompanion @sanspuppet @sugawara-levi

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jjunberry · 2 months

Text

ateez! while getting head

pairing! ateez x reader

genre! smut

synopsis! ateez getting head

wc! 500

hongjoong! is rough. loves holding the back of your neck to guide you. he’s well aware you can take him but he loves the control. you were on your knees under his desk at the studio. he was sat legs spread while you sucked him off. his groans filled the studio has he gripped your neck to speed up your actions. “yeah baby, just like that.” he moved your head faster and bucked his hips.

seonghwa! likes it deep. your nose pressed against him as he’s down your throat. he has you laid on your back head hanging off the bottom of the bed. he stood above you fucking your mouth. he moaned out seeing himself in your throat. “you feel me baby? feel me in there.” you moaned around him causing him to groan and finish down your throat.

yunho! loves to finish on your face. this boy lives for facials. lets you take over until he’s close then he grips your hair. his motions are quick and rough. he pulls out with a deep groan and jerks himself off before finishing on your face. “you look so pretty covered in my cum.”

yeosang! loves morning head. he had given you permission a while ago to wake him up with head. he claims it makes his day go better. before the morning alarms you’d slip under the covers and take him into your mouth. yeosang would soon wake up guiding your head lower. his morning voice filling your ears. “mhm yeah baby just like that.”

san! loves to return to favor. let’s you suck him off as long as you let him in return. he holds your hair and guides you until he finishes down your throat with a whine. after he catches his breath his quick to lay you down. you felt his breath over your heat. “let me take care of you now.”

mingi! is whiny. he loves head. he loves when you give him head. very vocal on his appreciation. his head is against the pillow as whines leave his lips. you’ve been working him for a while now. he’s bucking his hips up. “please can i cum?” he begs. when he gets the nod of approval he’s quick to finish in your mouth. he whines when you open to show him.

wooyoung! is a head pusher. you were kissing down his chest when his hand pushed down telling you where he needed you most. you pulled his pants and boxers down before licking up his dick. he pushed your head down as you sucked on his tip. “more..need more.” he moaned when you finally took him down your throat.

jongho! is slow. he likes to take it slow. taking more of him each time you go back down. he doesn’t moan but his breathing gets heavier as he gets closer. he begins to buck his hips to meet your actions. “keep going, mhm i’m close.” his body goes still as he shoots his load down your throat.

author’s note! guyssss omg 🤭 hope you enjoyed this one

tag list! @304files @jjunieworld

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

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jk97 · 3 months

Text

Unprofessional Attraction | ONE

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 13K ♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot ♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | ?

Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.

That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”

“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.

Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.

A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.

“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”

He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.

“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.

“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”

“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.

“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.

“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”

You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”

“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”

“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”

When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.

From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.

He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.

[Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]

When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.

You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.

“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.

He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.

“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.

“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”

Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.

Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”

Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.

“You ready?”

“Absolutely,” you puff out.

“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.

“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.

Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.

“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.

“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.

Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.

“I was just asking, Jesus.”

Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”

“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.

“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”

“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”

Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”

San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.

It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.

You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.

“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.

Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.

His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”

“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”

Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.

“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.

With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.

“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”

“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”

Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.

“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”

You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.

“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”

He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”

“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.

After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”

“Of course!”

When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.

On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.

“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.

“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”

“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.

“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”

The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–

“_____?”

You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.

“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”

“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”

“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.

Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.

“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”

“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”

Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”

You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”

“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.

“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”

Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”

Not tonight.

You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.

“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”

While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.

When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.

“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.

“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”

That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.

“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”

“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.

“We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”

Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.

But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”

That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”

To which he never declines, naturally.

Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.

“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”

A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”

He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.

“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”

He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in pink as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.

“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.

“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.

You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.

“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.

“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.

“You don’t even know the price of it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”

“Yunho…”

“Don’t even give me that, ____.”

The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.

When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”

“Cheers.”

Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.

As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.

“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.

“I can get you an Uber if—”

“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”

That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.

Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.

Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.

“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.

While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.

“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.

He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”

“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”

Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he’s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.

Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.

Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—

He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.

Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.

“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”

Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.

“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.

He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”

“You’re fine, no worries.”

It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.

“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”

You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”

There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.

“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”

Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.

“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”

Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…

After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.

But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.

“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”

When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.

“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.

“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”

“Neither am I.”

At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.

“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.

“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.

“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”

Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”

In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.

“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”

Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.

You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”

Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.

“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.

You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.

“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”

Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.

It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.

It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.

It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.

“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.

“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.

The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.

“Take yours off too?”

Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.

“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.

Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.

His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.

“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.

“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.

“You know what I mean.”

Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”

Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.

“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.

He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.

“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”

Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.

He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.

“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”

Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.

The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.

“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”

When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.

“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.

“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”

“So fucking good.”

Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.

He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”

“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”

You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.

“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”

You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.

Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.

Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.

He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.

Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?

Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?

Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?

All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.

He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.

He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.

[Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]

Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.

Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.

[Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]

To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.

[Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]

He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.

[Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]

Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.

Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.

At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.

You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.

On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.

“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.

To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.

“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.

“Don’t.”

“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”

You employ a small pout to boot.

“And you think I believe that?”

“I think you should believe it.”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!

“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.

You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.

Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.

“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”

He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.

“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”

You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”

“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”

Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?

“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”

“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.

“A mistake?”

“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”

You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”

“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.

“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”

When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.

Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.

“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”

“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.

“Boo, why can I never know anything–”

“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”

“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.

Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.

A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.

“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”

“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”

“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”

“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”

Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”

You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.

“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.

You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.

“That was quick,” you giggle.

“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.

Fuck.

“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”

“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.

You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”

“Just give me five minutes, please.”

You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.

“Spit it out already, Yunho.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.

Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”

“Thought it was a mistake–”

“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”

“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”

There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.

“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”

You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:

“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”

“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”

“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”

“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”

You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.

♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr

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yuyusboyfriend · 4 months

Text

Sweet Dreams ☾˚✧

pairing: best friend!wooyoung x reader

wordcount: 2k

content: Playing with your best friend's hair seems to do more to him than you think.

warnings: nsfw, slight somno, dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, petnames (baby, babe, sweetheart, love, honey) afab!reader, no use of gendered pronouns but words like cunt, clit etc. are used, nipple play, cunnilingus, wooyoung is still a brat, lmk if im missing anything!

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

He squeezed your waist as you continued to brush his soft locks, letting out soft snores against your thigh. You swiped your finger over what he called his "dot", before returning to playing with his dark strands.

Wooyoung had been by your side since your first year of college, sitting down next to you on the first day; He purposely flicked his pencil onto your desk to distract you both from the task at hand.

"whatcha doing?" He said to you in a failed attempt at whispering. You gave him a quick side eye before returning to your work and dropping his pen on his desk.

"The work. I'm doing the work."

"Cool! Cool… what was the work again?" You finally give him a proper look at his face. Fuck, he's gorgeous. The mischievous grin he had plastered across his face was angelically evil and you could hardly tear your eyes away as you analysed his perfect features.

"Like something you see?" He ran his tongue against his top teeth as you stared back at him in now horror.

"What?" you yell, flustered and loud enough for a few classmates to whip their heads in your direction with a glare.

"My name's Wooyoung, you?" He-Wooyoung carried on as though nothing happened, as you noticed he was holding your phone and adding his number, texting himself so he could save yours.

"y/n, but what are you-" The professor announced the class was over and Wooyoung had already hopped out of his chair and walked to the exit, before turning around one last time,

"Talk soon, yeah?" He softly smiled at you and left.

That's what led you here, as his sleepy sounds echoed in the silence of your bedroom. The laptop that had been previously playing the movie you were watching on mute, careful not to wake him up. It was the last day of exams and you were both taking your well-deserved rest. Wooyoung looked so innocent in his slumber; long lashes resting on his smooth cheek, hands squeezing tighter around you occasionally as if he wasn't already close enough to you. He was so… kissable.

Fuck, you shouldn't be thinking about that - You had been trying your best to forget the silly flutter you felt in your chest when you thought about your best friend. You knew better to feel this way about Wooyoung, but every time he invaded your personal space, which was a lot, the ache in your stomach became worse with each touch. To say you were suffering right now would be an understatement.

"Mmhm…." Wooyoung hummed in his sleep, fidgeting against your outstretched leg under him. You stared at his lips as he huffed again.

"You having a dream woo?" You knew he was still too deep in his sleep to hear you, but you still hoped he would wake up and put you out of your misery. He shuffled against your leg again and squeezed you once more, rolling his hips slightly.

Was… was he hard?

"woo, seriously" he cut you off with a whimper against your waist, his jaw dropping open slightly to let the noise slip out onto you. Your muscles froze as he grinded on your leg, desperate for friction. You tried to escape the grip of the boy but as you shuffled away he only readjusted his tight hold on you and pulled you further down grinding into your inner thigh. You could feel yourself getting wet at the situation as well as the growing patch on your thigh from Wooyoung's precum leaking through his jogging bottoms.

"y/n, fuck" his sleepy form dug his nails into your lower back making you moan at the pain and pleasure, making you squirm enough to-

"y/n?" Wooyoung was looking up at your restless form, worry forming in his darkened eyes as he tried to halt the drag of his hips against your crotch. Your own body holding back the urge to push your hips up to him closing the minuscule gap between your heated bodies.

"Woo,

I'm sorry I should've woken you up-"

"y/n, please shut up for like two seconds" Wooyoung breathily whispers before reaching up to your face and lunging his lips against yours. His kiss was overflowing with desperation as he gripped the back of your neck to pull you towards his form, resuming his hips movements over your clothes. You could feel his head pressing down into your cunt through the stupid amount of layers separating your bodies.

"Fuck baby, you think I can get these off you?" Wooyoung whispered sweetly into your ear, snapping the waistband of your sweatpants and grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin under your ear. You tried to wriggle them off by yourself but Wooyoung wanted to hear your words.

"words baby." He peered through his long lashes.

"please Wooyoung."

"'Please Wooyoung' what?" Oh, what a bastard. He was getting off on being bratty despite his growing need in his pants getting harder by the second. Knowing Wooyoung meant you knew he wasn't gonna give up this fight no matter how in need he was.

"Woo take these off me right I swear to god" He snatched your sweatpants from your waist along with your undies and stuffed them in his pocket before you could finish your threat.

"Honey you're soaked, all from me rubbing up on you while I was asleep? that's dirty." his hoarse voice seeped through a wide grin. He dragged his thumb against your cunt, spreading your arousal to your sensitive clit.

"Shit! Wooyoung, please oh my god" you whined under his soft touch.

"Not God, love, I'm better" He gave you a wink before lowering his head to kiss down your thighs, each kiss nearing further to your aching cunt as you pleaded and begged him to end your suffering. Your hips lift as his lips latch around your clit, tongue moving expertly against it while he slides a digit into your begging hole. It wasn't enough. You needed him, his cock to fill you. As though he could hear your thoughts raging around your head, he takes his mouth off you for a second.

"I need you wet enough to take me, sweetheart, I can't go hurting you now can I?"

"Wooyoung I can take it you dickhead, please," You pant, tipping your head back.

"You're so impatient, can't even let me enjoy my meal" He huffed wiping his mouth, standing up to untie his sweats and rip them off, "You got a condom?" He looked at your bedside drawer and opened it before giving you a chance to answer. He closed his palm around a small silver vibrator and presented it to you.

"you think about me when you use this baby?" he bit his lip as he examined the toy, turning it on to feel the vibrations on his fingertips. "You probably touch yourself with this while whining my name under your breath, huh." You shivered under him at the filth spilling out of his mouth, your own words stuck in the back of your throat at the sight of him. You leant up to tug his shirt off of him, desperate to feel his skin against yours, thighs clenching together as your eyes take in his naked form.

"please." Your whimper was enough for Woo to reach back into the drawer and fish for a condom, finally pulling one out and ripping the foil with his teeth as his other hand busied itself massaging your thigh. He slipped the condom over his hard length, groaning at the feeling of how turned on he was and leaned over your form.

"you sure?" He looked into your eyes, looking for any doubt or concern and being met with nothing but lust and your love for the boy.

"Wooyoung, now please, please" He cut off your begs, his tip slapping against your clit and meeting the entrance of your cunt, pressing into you with a hard thrust. You knew he was big but the feeling of your hole being filled so well had you writhing under him at the stretch.

"shit woo, I'm gonna cum," You pant, not registering your blabbering.

"Then cum baby, but I'm not done with you yet," He nipped at the skin of your collarbone, leaving a trail of blooming marks on your skin that made you whine. He thrusts into you a few more times before feeling you clench around him, feeling your release leak onto his cock, not halting his movements. He rocked himself deep into you, slowly turning the feeling of overstimulation into mind-breaking pleasure. The way he slammed into you every few strokes brought you back to the reality of him burying his length in your wet cunt. All you could muster was a string of moans mangled with his name, the pleasure suffocating your ability to think comprehensibly.

"My cock making you forget your words, babe, ah, fuck you're so cute under me. " He ran his tongue along your sternum, before latching his mouth onto your aching nipple. Ludicrous noises of his mouth lapping at your skin, his lips leaving your nipple with a pop before moving to the other and repeating his actions. You could only moan in reply, wrapping one arm around the back of his head to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, the other dragging your nails across his back in a way that was sure to leave a few marks by the time you were done.

before you could process what was happening you heard a buzzing noise coming from the boy's hand, "Better give this a go shall we? wanna see you come undone again." Your eyes shot open as you felt the cold metal vibrator around your clit, Wooyoung running it up and down as to deny your your second orgasm for a bit longer while his own began to build. He snapped his hips into you harshly, still with a consistent rhythm despite him slowly losing a grip on his sanity being buried so deep in you. His cock managed to brush up on your g-spot with every slam making you see stars.

You felt the vibrations directly on your clit now, your screams filling your bedroom as he continued to drive into your aching cunt - with the extra stimulation you were on the edge of your orgasm, and Wooyoung was basking in your noises, hips movements growing more sloppy by the second. The dirty noises from the base of his cock meeting your soaked cunt mixed with your moans in the air had his eyes rolling back.

"Woo I'm gonna- I can't-"

"You gonna ah- you gonna come on my cock again? Do it, I know you can" He grunted into your ear, voice hoarser than before. Your cunt squeezed his aching member as you came around him once again, feeling the condom swell with his own release inside your sore walls. He continued to roll his hips into you, riding out your orgasms together till you were done.

He looked into your eyes, and to your lips before connecting them again. You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck to pull him in closer, desperate to be close to him still.

"I need to pull out and get you cleaned up love," He whispered to you as you protested, wanting to feel him in you for a bit longer. As he pulled out, you let out an airy moan, sighing at the loss of feeling full. Wooyoung tied the condom and tossed it in the trash before pulling his boxers up and leaving to get something to clean up with.

You watch the way he moved as he helped clean you up, before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"Woo-"

"I love you y/n." You whip your head up to look at him, a little annoyed he just stole the words out from your mouth.

"I was gonna say that! You bastard i wanted to say i love you first!" He let out a high pitched laugh at your pouting face, before reaching to you and kissing you softly.

"You snooze you lose, love."

oh my god i've wanted to write for woo so bad, its kind of shocking out of all the members I wrote woo as a dom but the heart wants what the heart wants❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 sorry for not posting in forever but I've had noooo motivation it's been ass 💔 thank you for reading !!!!

also this isn't proof read so most likely some mistakes 🙏

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altheasmeadow · 1 year

Text

Next Time

Warnings: None?

Pairing: Yunho X Reader

Summary: In which he fell for her, but did not believe that she would fall for him so he tried out a few things first

The woman slumped into the booth, the restaurant seemingly empty making her doubt that the food would even be that good. She was tired, worn from her day at work, but when she matched with a guy who had charmed her pretty quickly she agreed to the date easily. He wasn’t too far off of her usual type, he was very ambitious and confident from what she can tell. The last month hadn’t been easy with her dating, each week her dates had just been slightly different than the last. In the first week the man had been way too polite. It was almost too good to be true, he just didn’t feel authentic. The date ended with a sad smile and the phrase “Maybe next time,” which had been the recurring words that had followed the next three dates. The second date was slightly more pushy, but his eyes seemed way kinder than his actions leading her to be put off by him trying too hard. The third was interesting, the woman wasn't mean nor too nice but her eyes carried so many emotions, oddly the eyes of her dates were seemingly copy and pasted each time they were identical, scaring the woman slightly. The only issue with this date was the uncanny feeling associated with her, her face was just a mesh of all of her female celebrity crushes, nothing seeming genuine on her at all. The fourth date was the worst, it was too freaky, he looked like the human version of her favorite cartoon character, the one she had mentioned to her previous date in passing. He even had the same mannerisms.

She was burnt out from the promises of “Maybe next time,” She rested her head on her palm as she waited, sighin to release some tension when suddenly a man began rushing to the table in a frenzy, “I am so sorry I’m late, I got held up at dance practice.” The man sputtered, his puppy-like features begging for forgiveness, not wanting to give her a bad impression.

“It’s okay, I just got here.” She smiled reassuringly at the man who mentally rolled his eyes, she was always early to dates, at least 10 minutes so he knew she had waited a bit.

“So have you ordered a drink?” He wondered, not knowing if she had been waiting for him.

“Just water, I’m a little burnt out from work tonight.” She sent a sympathetic smile his way to which he responded with a reassuring grin.

“I just wanted to make sure you got a drink, what do you do for work?” He wondered, though he already knew, he couldn’t give anything away.

The two fell into a steady conversation with ease, the woman taking quick notice of the similar eyes the man shared with her previous dates; however, he seemed much more genuine than the previous four, he was himself. Which was his last resort, he wanted to make sure he was her type before having to be shifted into someone else for the rest of his life just to be happy with her, thankfully she was seemingly more attracted to his authentic self than any of his other forms.

“Wow, this food is really good!” She gasped out not having expected the explosion of flavor on her taste buds.

“On your profile you said you loved it so I looked through reviews of most of the restaurants and settled on here, its a relatively quiet part of town so it's never too busy here.” He grinned as he watched her features melt into awe.

How could someone be this sweet?

By the time the date ended, she was enchanted. Somehow he was a perfect man and it was the most refreshing revelation after the worst dating month in history. She honestly didn’t want this date to end.

“So, Next time?” The eerily familiar sentence sent shivers down her spine, however with the energy she gained from the relaxing date she grew the urge to continue the night.

“Actually, Would you like to come over? I have wine and games.”

And suddenly there were no more sad maybe next time, the next time was always a promise with lingering excitement.

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blossom-hwa · 1 year

Text

hero | j.yh

a repost of a piece (plus or minus a few edits) I wrote for hyunjin during my latest drabble game :) the original idea had been meant for yunho, so I decided I may as well give it to him anyway! hope you enjoy <3

Pairing: Yunho x gender neutral!reader

Genre: angst, hero!yunho, villain!reader

Warnings: implied character death, blood

Word Count: 1.1k

In a situation where only one of you will make it out alive, you make the ultimate sacrifice.

Hyunjin (SKZ) Ver. | Ateez Masterlist

“So, what.” You blow out a long breath. Yunho flinches at how it sticks in your throat, caught there with pain. “We’re stuck, aren’t we?”

Yunho presses his lips together, feels them turn white against his skin. “No, we’re not,” he snarls between gritted teeth. “We’re not—we’re going to find a way to get out of this—”

“You're so cute.” You laugh harshly, but it doesn’t disguise the way you clutch at your side when you speak, the quick glance at your leg covered in blood that’s soaked through the once-white bandage. “We’ve been here for eleven hours, Yunho.” One lethargic arm flings itself up to point at the clock on the wall, the only thing decorating the bare concrete of the room. “Time’s almost up, and the public is expecting something.”

Expecting you. Expecting the two of you to give them a show.

A scream builds in Yunho’s throat. He barely holds it back as he whirls to face you fully. “Will you shut the fuck up?” he snarls.

“No.” Suddenly you look so tired, so exhausted, so far from the confident villain the public has always made you out to be, the confident villain Yunho has always seen you as. Dark bags sag under your eyes, cuts rippled across your skin, and Yunho has to fight back a gag when his gaze lights on your bloody leg and the drops of red beginning to spill onto the floor. “No, I don’t think I will.”

He steps forward. Your eyes follow his movements, a dull eyebrow raised. “You are not going to goad me into killing you,” he tries to snap, but his voice cracks on the last word. “So don’t even try.”

“Tch.” You shake your head and despite everything, Yunho still finds the crude smile on your lips beautiful, even with blood tainting the corners of your lips. “You’re such a stupid hero, you know, Yunho?” Disgust and fondness drip from your voice as you look up at him, head lolling to the side. “Such a hero. Can’t even kill—” You cough into your arm. “Can’t even kill the villain everyone’s deemed his worst enemy.”

“Well, why don’t you kill me then?” Yunho snaps. “If I can’t kill you, why don’t you kill me? You could end this stalemate right here!”

“Oh, but then he would win.” You roll your eyes, still smirking up at him. “I’m a villain, yeah? I’m supposed to kill you, your type of hero. If I kill you, all I do is feed into his agenda, to make the public rise against me and my friends, to keep them from being able to expose him and everything he’s done to the likes of us.” With a deep, shuddering breath, you close your eyes. “No, Yunho. I won’t kill you.”

Your next words are so quiet that if Yunho wasn’t two feet away from you, he wouldn’t have heard you at all.

“I don’t even think I could kill you if I tried.”

A choked sob tears itself from Yunho’s throat. “If you can’t kill me, how do you think I can kill you?” he cries, falling to his knees in front of you. “Y/N—I—”

“It’s okay.” Your eyes flutter open, a small, wan smirk still painted across your lips. Desperately, Yunho wishes he could go back to the past, any day in a time before, any day where you were alive and well and wearing that infuriating smile that always made his blood boil and his heart pound. “You don’t have to kill me, not if you really don’t want to.”

Numbly, Yunho watches as your fingers fall to the bandage around your leg, the one still seeping blood onto the floor. They fumble with the tie and Yunho cries out, reaching forward as you let the tightly-wrapped cotton fall from your leg, exposing the gaping wound in your flesh.

“No,” Yunho breathes, picking up the bloody bandage. “No, no—” His hands tremble, trying to affix the cloth back to the wound. “No, Y/N, you’re not going to just die like this—”

“Shh.” You lift one hand, press a bloody finger to his lips. A spasm of pain crosses your face, but you don’t take your eyes from his. “Stop it. I’d have bled out within the hour even if the bandage was there. I’m just... expediting the process.”

The cloth falls from his hands. Yunho lets out a sob as his head falls forward, bowing over your body slumped against the wall. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

“Shut up,” you say fondly, the hand on his lips rising to stroke through his hair. “Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault. It’s not your fault he came to power. It’s not your fault he manipulated us all into this.” You breathe deeply, harshly. “It’s not your fault that we’re here, and it’s not your fault you can’t save me.”

Coming from your lips, those words sound so reasonable. But when Yunho tries to repeat them to himself, he doesn’t seem to understand them at all.

“Yunho.” Your face swims in his vision, his eyes blurred with tears. “Listen to me. Are you listening to me?”

He nods once. Twice. Yes, of course, always.

“This is what you are going to do,” you say quietly. “You’re going to pretend. I’m going to die, the doors are going to open, and you are going to pretend you killed me.”

Yunho sobs.

“You’re going to pretend you killed me,” you repeat, voice a whisper. “You’re going to carry my body out, and you’re going to be a hero, Yunho. No one will know. He won’t even know. You’re going to be the hero that the public wants. You’re going to give them the show they expect to see. And then you—” You cough again. A spatter of blood finds its way onto Yunho’s chest. “You are going to topple that man and his entire regime for what they’ve done, do you hear me?”

Through his tears, Yunho stares at you. Even with your skin caked in dirt and blood, exhaustion present in every line of your face, you still look so determined. So brave. So beautiful.

So much like the villain he fell in love with years ago.

“Do you hear me, Yunho?”

He swallows his tears. “Yes,” he whispers. “Yes, I hear you.”

“Good.” You slump further into the wall. “I told you once, behind every successful hero lies a dead villain.” Your wan smile grows a little wider. “I will be that villain for you, Yunho. So long as you avenge me.”

Yunho laughs brief, sharp, choked. “I’d rather not have to avenge you at all.”

“And so would I.” You huff a little laugh of your own. “But you know, Yunho...”

He leans in closer.

“As selfish as it is, I’m glad it’s you,” you murmur into his ear, words barely a whisper. “Because I think killing you would have killed me, anyway.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 pat on the head for yunho he’s about to go through it)

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sunmoonjune · 2 years

Text

like the moon [seven]

pairing: poly!ateez x OC!reader (fem!reader)

warnings: ptsd, death, crying, angst, talk of previous abuse, mentions of lacerations on forearms (not self-inflicted, but please be careful!), hurt-comfort, some fluff?? if you can consider it that

a/n: hey hey hey! I’m excited for you guys to read another chapter! I’m so sorry there was a bit of a break in between but I should have more time to write now :) I hope y’all enjoy this chapter :D <3

word count: 5.4k

[previous - chapter six] chapter seven [chapter eight]

The sun has just lowered below the horizon when Yunho and the others step back into camp.

The last rays of golden light filter through the trees; the pinks and oranges of the sunset had long been ignored by the remaining three members of the clan. Those who had stayed behind had remained vigilant. A threat to their camp had been realized: an assassin of unknown origin. An unsettling sense of cold apprehension snuck into the chests of each of the three men. It squeezed their stomachs tight, grasping tightly to the anxiety that already lingered.

Mingi and Jongho had remained alert. They continued to patrol the edges of their camp, even far past the daylight hours. Neither boy was content in leaving the base unguarded, and Yeosang was far too preoccupied preparing the med-bay for possible injuries.

While both Mingi and Jongho were tremendously worried about their partners, both were able to push the anxiety farther down, and allow the fulfillment of their duties to take over their worried brains. As long as they were able to continue patrolling, there was a distraction for intrusive, anxious thoughts.

Mingi worried for Yunho, as he'd been one of Mingi’s first lovers. The two tallest members of camp were incredibly close - Mingi had been one of the first to approach Yunho after he’d first arrived. The depth of their bond was deep. Of course, the bonds between all eight of the boys was everlasting and unbinding - but there were differences between each one.

Some bonds had formed quicker than others. Hongjoong and Seonghwa had taken quickly to each other after meeting, finding solace in the comfort of the other. Both men found a sense of peace in the responsibility of the other. It was an eddy of calm in otherwise rampant waters. The group of eight lovers was chaotic at times: with Wooyoung’s hooted shouts of victory carrying over camp as he beats San in a silly competition of theirs, or Jongho’s disgruntled shouts of annoyance heard after Mingi attempted to plant a kiss on his cheek. The camp could be loud at times, giggled voices carrying through the cavern’s walls.

However, the sounds did nothing but warm Hongjoong’s heart. The missing piece that ached in the hollowness of his chest, was gradually filling. Each loving sigh, giggled cry or comforting murmur sent another beat of warmth into the leader’s heart. The ache steadily disappeared, until it was nothing but a hum in the back of his mind. While not completely full, Hongjoong was more than content to have the null void filled as it was.

Yunho steps away from the other boys and heads towards the medical cavern. He shifts your still unconscious body in his grasp, pulling you farther up his torso where your arms and legs are wrapped around his form. His arms are beginning to burn from the long walk, but he refused to let your body leave his arms. Seonghwa had offered a few miles back, his arms outstretched and a gentle smile on his lips. However Yunho was stubborn - it had been years since the taller man had felt your skin pressed to his like this. And even despite that, after an episode so violent, Yunho was not inclined to leave your side so soon.

Seonghwa understood. He was not disgruntled by his partner’s refusal, only fixing him with a warm look that told him to alert the others if he was getting tired. The eldest of the eight clan members was familiar with the longing in Yunho’s chest. A soft rub between Seonghwa’s shoulders told him that Hongjoong felt the same.

Maneuvering through the winding cavern hallways, Yunho finally arrives at the cave designated for medicinal use. San is hot on his heels, the smaller man’s eyes still anxiously hovering over your form. Yunho allows himself a moment to savor in the warmth and care that San has always shown you. His lover is nothing but kind, and Yunho knows you’re warming up to him quickly.

When Yunho lays your form against the bed you’ve been residing in, Yeosang is quick to enter the cavern. He hurries to your side, his fingers already reaching out to brush hair away from the thick material of your mask. His heart is thumping in his chest, worry rushing through his veins and into his head.

The blood that dripped under your mask is drying. It’s crusted against your skin and sticking to the material. Yeosang gently brushes his fingers against your skin. They’re cold, like always, but you seldom flinch at his touch lately.

He aches to lift the mask and wipe away the blood - to find the source of the injury, but when he turns his attention back to Yunho and San, both boys gently shake their heads.

A deep sigh filters through his lungs.

“Is she alright?” Yeosang gently questions. He turns to rummage in a bin near his side, pulling out a clean rag. The honey-haired boy dunks it into a bowl with water before wringing it out. Pressing the cloth gently to the dried blood he can reach, Yeosang softly begins to clean the crusted crimson stains from your skin.

There’s a beat of hesitation, as if neither man is entirely certain.

“I think so,” Yunho finally replies. His voice is thick, as if he’d forced a lump down his throat. “Physically - I mean. I don't think the assassin managed to hit her or Seonghwa-hyung.”

Yeosang nods, honey eyes not leaving your form. Your eyes are still shut, so he presses his forefingers to your pulse point at your throat. When a steady pulse beats against his delicate fingers, he lets out a sigh of relief. He continues to scan your form, ensuring that there are no more wounds in sight.

San moves to sit at Yeosang’s side, pressing his fingers into his partner’s stomach. There's something bothering him, Yeosang can tell. He doesn’t press the matter, knowing there are more important issues to confront (an assassin being a pertinent one). Besides, a single look at San’s features tells Yeosang that the boy doesn’t necessarily want to talk about it for now.

Yeosang leans into his lover, allowing San to brush his fingers through Yeosang’s honey colored hair. San’s fingers are shaking, so Yeosang knows something must have shaken him.

Yunho looks on, his eyes still flicking between your body and his lovers. He wants to speak - to explain something, but he’s not sure how to start. He knows he’ll be little help assisting the two healers. All he can do now is press a gentle kiss to San’s forehead and brush his fingers through Yeosang’s hair. Then, he turns to head back out the cavern’s entrance, knowing Hongjoong needs to speak with him.

His stomach twists as he leaves, sending another glance to your form. Yunho’s body screams not to leave, every fiber of his being longing to press his skin against yours once more. Separating from you after such a violent episode makes his skin itch in discomfort. He can’t look back again. Yunho knows another last look will force his body back to your side.

San sinks into his lover, dropping to his knees so that his head is level with yours. Your still shut eye has dried tear tracks pressed into your skin, and the bloody reminder of your other eye makes San’s stomach sink.

With a shaky sigh, he turns back to look at Yeosang. His lover appears calm, methodically rubbing the blood from your skin without shifting your mask.

“She can’t see,” San manages to whisper. His voice is so soft, Yeosang almost doesn't catch it.

“Out of her right eye?” Yeosang utters back, just as quiet. A nod is his only response, San’s mouth downturned into a frown and eyes heavy with something that looks like grief. Yeosang rubs a thumb across San’s skin, attempting to provide him nonverbal comfort.

“I think I knew already,” the healer reveals. “I figured with how her mask covers it, she couldn’t see regardless.”

San barely nods - he’d assumed similar, but he hadn't predicted the excess damage that still lingers in the eye.

“The blood is from a burst tear duct. Yunho said it’s been irreversibly damaged, and when she cries it reopens the wound.”

“She cried?” Yeosang’s stomach sinks.

Another hesitant nod is his response. Yeosang can’t imagine what brought you to tears. Especially after the emotionless face you'd held when Yeosang had restitched wounds and cleaned wounds. You were practically numb to pain. Your tears must have resulted from something psychological - something that had shaken you so deeply.

The news of your tear duct startles Yeosang a little. He looks back at your mask, wondering what kind of wound had injured you so deeply that tears could reopen old scars. His thumb gently runs along the edge of the mask, aching to tell you that you didn’t need to hide.

“She’s not injured anywhere else, right?”

San’s quiet for a moment. He can’t shake the image of your broken form, slumped forward and offering your throat and wrists as punishment. He shivers, fingers reaching to press into your own. He squeezes twice and delicately traces a finger down your palm - his signature phrase it seems.

A lump is forced into his throat. It feels like he’s about to cry once more as the lump swells. San can’t force out words to respond to Yeosang, too worried he’ll burst into tears once more. He motions to the scrape at your forehead where an arrow had grazed your skin, before he pushes his head into the bedding at your side.

Yeosang carefully pulls out a roll of fresh gauze and bandages the cut at your forehead. It crosses the left side of your temple and passes into your hair. It’s already stopped bleeding and Yeosang has cleaned the crusted crimson away from the skin. He bandages the wound with care before sealing the gaze to your skin with some medical tape.

Worriedly pulling his fingers through San’s hair, Yeosang tries to comfort his lover. San’s sudden tears force an anxious pool to rest in Yeosang’s stomach.

“What’s happened, Sannie?” Yeosang’s voice is deep and soothing. It rumbles through his chest as he presses it into San’s back, now on his knees as well. He lets his weight rest against his lover, knowing San takes to physical affection. Leaning back into Yeosang’s chest, San allows his body to rest against his partner.

“I can’t-” he chokes, still trying to force out words around the lump in his throat. It feels tight in his chest and San can’t seem to breathe around the solid knot that has settled in his stomach. “She was s’broken, Sangie. I think she expected us to hurt her.”

Yeosang’s breath catches in his throat as San carefully turns your forearms to reveal the lashes that are burned into your skin. The raised scars twist along the skin from your elbow to your wrist, overlapping and curling amongst each other. Yeosang feels bile rise into the back of his throat. The implication in San’s words does not pass over him. Just the idea of your broken body expecting that kind of pain, especially from one of his partners, makes his hair stand on end.

The Ateez Clan is not brutal. While they can be untrusting and cautious, brutality and torture of that capacity is not something they deem acceptable.

A single finger of Yeosang’s drags over one of the raised scars on your forearm, and he feels his heart squeeze in his chest. His other arm constricts around San’s body, clutching him as tightly as his lover will allow. The honey-haired boy presses his forehead into San’s back, taking a deep sigh as the lump in his own throat swells. A salty tear drops from one of his eyes and wets the material of San’s shirt.

San doesn’t seem to mind - he’s too busy suppressing tears of his own. Yeosang can’t form words to respond to San’s admission. All he can do is sit with San pressed to his front and a finger gently pressed against your skin.

San’s body shakes as he stifles a sob. Pushing his own forehead into the mattress your body lays on, the man heaves a sigh and allows a few tears to soak the material.

Both healers had seemed to quickly grow attached to you after your introduction to camp. San was quicker than Yeosang, of course, but Yeosang soon followed. Despite your quiet and cold demeanor, both boys savored your helpful presence. While often still cautious of their actions, you had warmed up to the healers and allowed their kind hearts to seep warmth into your caged one.

There’s a thrumming in both boy’s chests when their skin touches yours. It’s a feeling San has begun to crave. The zing that filters through every fiber in his skin is one that he’s felt before. At his lovers’ touch, the same rush of heat fills his chest. It fills his body and sends shivers down his spine.

Yeosang remains buried in San’s back, but he allows his fingers to gently turn your palm over. With most of the blood cleaned and body checked thoroughly for injuries, Yeosang still needs the reassurance that comes from your pulse beneath his fingers.

He places your arms back against the sheets and slides his upturned hand underneath your own. From this position, Yeosang can rest two of his fingers against the faint heartbeat that radiates from your wrist.

When he locates the pulse, another heavy sigh escapes his lungs. There’s a feeling of security that falls over his mind at the knowledge that your heart still beats at a regular pace. The steady rhythm of your heartbeat allows some sort of comfort in Yeosang’s rattled brain. While he can’t even begin to understand your daunting past, Yeosang can at least take comfort in the knowledge that your heart still beats - here and now.

“S’alright, Sannie.” Yeosang nearly whimpers. His voice is quiet and wobbly, words spoken around suppressed sobs.

“She’s here now. We won’t let that happen again, alright?” He lets the pulse of your heart thrum into his own veins, beats matching as he calms his breathing. “She’s here now.”

San manages a shaky sob. A nod is his response, the motion moving the sheets under your skin. The darker haired boy allows himself to raise his eyes to your still sleeping form. He reaches a hand out and delicately wraps a pinky around your own. It's the only physical affection he allows himself, knowing that it still unnerves you.

Your skin is warm against his own.

“Never again,” San whispers, his mouth pressed to the end of his fist. He slips his hand down to squeeze twice, and draws a single finger down your palm once more. The motion is well practiced now. Yeosang catches the motion out of the corner of his eye and squeezes San tight to him once more.

San allows his pinky to intertwine with yours once more, his head falling back to the mattress. The familiar zing of both your and Yeosang’s touch sends a bolt of lightning through his veins. He leans further back into his partner’s chest, and speaks softly under his breath.

“We’ve got you now, Bug.”

When Yunho emerges from the depths of the dark caverns, the other clan members are gathered around the limp form of the assassin. Seonghwa had been tasked with gathering the body. He and Wooyoung took turns shuffling the dead body back to camp.

Hongjoong has gathered the other five boys gathered in a sort of circle, their hushed voices mumbling between themselves. Mingi and Jongho have joined the conversation, having returned from their watch posts. The taller of the two guards turns as Yunho approaches.

Mingi offers an outstretched hand as Yunho approaches, face still cold and impassive. Yunho accepts his partner’s hand, allowing Mingi to pull him into the hushed conversation.

“I don't recognize the clan mark,” Seonghwa informs their leader. He toes the body of the assassin, nudging the dark symbol tattooed into the forearm of the man.

Hongjoong nods, eyes still scanning the assailant’s body for recognizable features. He doesn’t spot anything he’s able to discern, so he turns to Yunho. He’s quiet for a moment, letting Yunho access the assassin before he questions him.

“Do you know it?”

Yunho continues to scan the body before him. It’s not his old clan’s mark. The symbol is different from the one that had been tattooed into his own skin at fifteen. He can vividly remember the needles digging into his skin and leaving traces of black ink behind. When he’d been cast out, the small mark had been burned with a hot blade. The blistering metal had obscured the tattoo into a messy scar, the burn leaving a nasty scab behind.

Returning his leader’s gaze, Yunho shakes his head. “It’s not them. The mark is different - I don’t recognize it either.”

Hongjoong sighs heavily. None of his partner’s were able to recognize the clan symbol. At Yunho’s admission, he doubts you’d be able to discern it either. Shaking his head softly, Hongjoong feels his gut twist.

An assassin so close to their borders is not a good sign. It’s likely they were after you rather than any of his own clan members, but Hongjoong still does not like the implication. He’d been close to accepting you into their clan, and having a bounty on your head does not pose well. Being able to identify the clan would have helped the leader protect their borders, but the unknown attacker poses a new threat.

“It must be a marksman,” Mingi mutters. His mouth is downturned into a frown and he fiddles with the strap of his claymore. He’s tense, not likely the idea of assassins so close to his family. “There’s traveling clans of assassins for hire - he could be from one.”

Hongjoong agrees, fixing his eyes on Mingi's. A hum erupts from his throat as he considers his options.

“If we can’t distinguish the clan, then it’s fair to assume we’re being watched from all sides.” Hongjoong decides. “We’ll have to increase patrols around camp. Wooyoung?”

The leader turns to the two-toned boy. The younger is still turned towards the assailant, his eyes hard. At Hongjoong’s question, he breaks contact and turns to look at the leader.

He’d been vaguely listening to the conversation, so he nodded his head strongly at Hongjoong, understanding his leader’s nonverbal request. In the past, Wooyoung had typically been the one to pick up extra patrol shifts. Though smaller than Mingi and Jongho, Wooyoung was exceptionally strong and vigilant. His skill was excellent for taking watch. Seonghwa would usually fall after, taking his patrol shifts from a higher viewpoint - typically the nest situated in the towering tree positioned in the center of camp. It was large enough for Seonghwa to view all sides of camp, and hidden from outside eyes. From this spot, Seonghwa had an excellent vantage point with his longbow. Nothing escaped his hawk eyes from that point.

Mingi and Jongho turn to Wooyoung, fixing their partner with a firm nod as the three silently agree on their usual patrol shifts. With another heavy sigh, Hongjoong turns to Seonghwa and motions towards the body at their feet.

“Can you take care of this?”

Seonghwa nods, his lips tight. They’ll have to bury the body outside their territory. Leaving it inside their land may spark war if it was found.

Hongjoong turns away from the group, heading back to the tunnels of the cave behind him. Yunho steps to follow him, long legs catching up quickly.

“Hongjoong -” Yunho stops their leader. “They’re after her - I’m certain. I can’t explain it, I know the clan mark isn’t the same, but -”

Hongjoong turns back to Yunho’s anxious eyes. They’re wide and a little frantic, obviously concerned for you. Hongjoong’s long mullet shifts as he nods his head in reference to Yunho’s concern.

“I know.” He firmly answers. There’s no other explanation in his mind. It’s been years since any of his clan members were involved in their separate clans. Ateez’s borders didn’t touch any other surrounding clans, and there’s been no confrontation in a long while. The only logical explanation is the assassin had been after your head.

Yunho hesitates, unable to form the words for the question he wants to ask. His fingers fumble with their grip on the leather strap on his chest that holds his axe across his back. He stumbles, wide eyes not leaving Hongjoong’s.

The leader’s eyes soften.

His lips turn into a downturned smile, and his heart squeezes. Yunho is obviously concerned with your safety and is unsure how to question it. Hongjoong is touched at Yunho’s silent concern, knowing it’s the same emotion he’s expressed for Wooyoung in the past.

Yunho’s eyebrows furrow as his leader gives him a gentle smile. His confusion is evident as Hongjoong shifts to lay his hand across Yunho’s shoulder.

“S’alright, Yunho.” Hongjoong reassures the taller boy. “We protect our own, don’t we?”

Yunho’s heart jumps in his chest.

He knows it’s only been a few months since Seonghwa had first stumbled into camp with your bloody form clutched to his chest, so he’s surprised to hear Hongjoong’s words. Perhaps, his inclination to you had influenced the leader’s choice. Yunho knows it’s hard to gain Hongjoong’s trust, and though you may not have it yet, it seems that the leader still considers you one of his own.

Yunho’s skin tingles with a feeling he can’t place. It could be happiness, but Yunho isn’t sure. It’s a sense of euphoria; knowing that Hongjoong will protect you as one of his own clan members allows a sense of safety and comfort to fill Yunho’s chest. He feels light, and he manages a little grin to turn the corners of his mouth as he nods his head lightly. It’s one of thanks, addressing his leader.

Hongjoong gives Yunho another small smile, before he turns one more and heads into one of the tunnels facing the main camp. Yunho isn’t sure where he’s headed but he allows Hongjoong to venture alone.

Turning back to his other partners, Yunho’s eyes fall over his other clan members. Their strength and courage are immense. Yunho feels comforted knowing the strength of the Ateez clan will be able to protect you at the first sign of intrusion. While the others may not know you well, Yunho can say for certain that Seonghwa and the healers would jump at the opportunity to fight at your side. Yunho too, would follow quickly after. Hongjoong, it seems, may join the group, and the others would follow at his command.

With a small smile on his face, Yunho sighs and begins walking back over to join Mingi and the others.

A few hours later, you awake to the ringing in your head.

It’s a dull sound. The echo of it spreading from ear to ear as you scrunch your eye in pain. You faintly feel the crusted blood from beneath your mask, but it doesn’t bother you much. You’re used to much worse.

Besides the ringing, you don’t feel much physical pain. You can remember the events leading up to when you’d passed out, and the reminder of Wooyoung’s lunge for your form had a shiver running down your spine. You can understand why he had attacked you, but his hands around your throat and your unarmed fists beating on his chest are hard to look over. With a tight chest, you decide it’s best to avoid the two-toned boy for now.

Heaving a sigh, you crack open your unmasked eye to take in the medical cavern once more. There’s only one other form in the room, and you’re surprised to take in their shape. You had expected Yeosang or San’s bodies to be shuffling throughout the room, but it’s the form of their leader that greets your opened eye.

Hongjoong is faced away from you, his hands gently wiping a clean cloth against the intricate golden handle of his sword. He’s cleaning the metal, wiping away dirt and grime from the red jewel on the hilt of the blade.

When you rustle in an attempt to sit up, Hongjoong looks up from his sword. He turns to face you, his unscarred eye meeting yours.

For a moment, a wave of anxiety flows through you. You’ve been in this scenario before. Being dangerously alone with the leader of another clan after a mistake so vital had resulted in stinging scars and untreated wounds. The reminder sends another shiver up your spine and you turn your eyes downward, ready to accept whatever punishment Hongjoong deems fit.

Hongjoong stands from his seated position, taking a few steps towards your bedside.

Your recoil is subtle, barely contained, but Hongjoong still sees it.

With your eyes downturned, you don’t see the pained look in Hongjoong’s eyes. He doesn’t know your former clan leader, but Hongjoong knows he despises them. Whoever instilled this fear into your mind and forced this behavior to become normal, is a person of disgusting nature. Hongjoong hates the way that you can’t meet his eyes. He doesn’t want to see fear in your features when you look at him - he wants to see the impassive comfort that he sees when you sit with San and Yeosang. While not visible to most, Hongjoong can see the relaxation of your muscles that subtly shifts around the two healers. You don’t relax entirely, but at least you placed some trust in them.

When he stands before your form, now risen and laid back against the wall, Hongjoong stands still. His now softened features long to gaze back into your own, but he won’t push you.

“S’alright, Gray.” Hongjoong whispers. His voice is soft and kind, something you haven’t often heard from authority. The name still warrants a flinch, and Hongjoong frowns. He’s noticed the behavior before. Whenever the name is mentioned, you shrink away, as if preparing for someone to strike you. The thought tightens Hongjoong’s chest and pushes a lump into his throat.

Hongjoong recalls a name Yunho had called you and changes his approach.

“Angel,” he gently croons. At the name, you appear stumped. You don’t move, but no reaction is better than a recoil, so Hongjoong continues.

He drops to his knees, allowing his weight to balance on his heels so he doesn’t tower over your form. Hongjoong instead lowers his form so that he’s smaller than you. He allows your form to sit higher than his own, hopefully providing you with some sense of security.

From below, Hongjoong can catch a glimpse of your confused eyes. You appear unsure, as if you don’t understand why he’s willingly offered his high ground. His soft features don’t portray any anger, and the lack is puzzling to you.

“S’alright, Angel.” Hongjoong softly mumbles. “M’not mad at you.”

At his words, there is visible confusion on your features as you raise your head slowly to meet his eyes. While not lifted to its normal height, your head still leans upward to meet his gaze, and Hongjoong considers it an accomplishment.

Your eyebrows are furrowed, but your lips are still set in a straight line. Your rigid, soldier’s demeanor is still apparent. Hongjoong’s lack of anger puzzles you. You had expected him to be upset; you had put two of his clan members in danger and nearly gotten one killed. A mistake of this size would have cost you a week of meals amongst a more brutal, physical punishment.

The soft look on Hongjoong’s face does not match any you’ve seen before.

At your visible confusion, Hongjoong tilts his head to answer your unspoken question.

“Seonghwa says you nearly took an arrow for him.”

Your eyebrows draw together again.

“When you pushed him to the floor,” Hongjoong continues, “You put his life before you own without even thinking.”

You recall the moment you’d tackled Seonghwa to the forest floor. The sound of an arrowhead thunking into the bark of a tree behind your head rings in your ears. The motion had been instinctual, it seems. You’d barely processed the action before you’d moved. Your body ached to protect Seonghwa before your own.

A subtle nod is your only response.

A small smile graces the leader’s features at your response. When he’d addressed you before, you’d refused to meet his eyes, let alone respond without being spoken to. Now, his chest is light and his gut turns in a subtle happiness at your ability to answer his question.

“You saved his life, Angel.” Hongjoong finally speaks. “I could never be mad at you for that.”

You almost speak, mouth nearly opening to refute his statement. But Wooyoung -

“Wooyoung’s actions are nothing but his own,” Hongjoong interrupts you. “I can’t speak for him, but know that I’m not mad. Seonghwa is grateful you saved his life - as am I. The others only know that an assassin attacked the three of you.”

You’re hesitant, but you return his sentiment with another soft nod. It’s clear you still question their feelings, but you accept his word as their leader. A twisting echoes in your stomach, but Hongjoong’s authority tales prescience over your conflicted thoughts.

A pregnant pause fills the cavern. Hongjoong’s gaze does not leave yours, but the gentle look in his eyes does not intimidate you. While still cautious, you find yourself lost in the swirl of Hongjoong’s soft brown eyes. His long, brown hair rests against his neck and a strange tingling in your stomach erupts when you imagine your fingers in the strands. You don’t understand the feeling, and the turning in your stomach flutters more when your gaze drops to his pink lips.

The butterflies in your stomach confuse you, so you raise your questioning gaze back to Hongjoong’s eyes.

He’s still crouched before you, form shrunken in order to appear smaller than your own. He rests a hand on the bed for balance, but the hand is away from your skin. Hongjoong knows that physical contact is not easy for you.

With a lump in your throat, your scratchy voice manages to creak out a few words.

“Did I do good?”

Hongjoong’s eyes seem to soften even further.

The words send a beat of sadness through his chest. He’s only heard your voice on a few occasions as you prefer to communicate nonverbally. The sound of your scratchy throat and wobbled words still manages to send a beat of warmth through Hongjoong’s heart. He finds himself savoring the sound of your words, no matter how many you speak.

A very gentle smile raises onto Hongjoong’s lips. Just the corners of his mouth upturn into a sort of sad smile. His eyes seem to sadden despite his smile, and you find yourself confused at the hint of tears welling in his eyes.

Hongjoong feels a little sick as you question your actions. You seem to lack a sort of moral compass, only acting on instinct as no one had taught you right from wrong. Hongjoong knows you seem to act on command, only moving when ushered to, but bile rises in his throat when he thinks of the implication that you’ve never understood whether your actions were truly good.

Hongjoong sends you another watery smile. He delicately lifts his hand, slowly motioning towards you in question. You don’t recoil, only eyeing the fingers cautiously, but you allow him to softly lay the hand across your own.

His touch is light and kind. It offers only the warmth of his skin rather than an implication of pain. Hongjoong gently rubs his fingers over the back of your own hand, and the soft touch sends another shiver down your spine. However, this shiver is not one of fear. It feels different from the others. When the chilling sensation of fear does not follow the shake, you find yourself confused at the warmth that fills your body instead.

You drop your gaze to his hand, seemingly mystified by the gentle touch from an authority figure.

Hongjoong’s chest does flips when you don’t move his hand away. He is more than euphoric at that moment. Knowing that his touch did not frighten you, but rather only confused you, is a sign of trust that Hongjoong does not take lightly.

With a turning stomach and another teary smile, Hongjoong meets your eyes.

“Yeah, Angel. You did s’good.”

bonus:

hongjoong, touching the reader’s hand:

reader: what is this?

hongjoong: affection

reader: disgusting

reader: ... do it again

a/n: heheh they’re bonding :D I’m so happy to be back and writing you guys!! I’m already working on the next part too since I wasn’t able to fit some scenes in this chapter that I wanted to include. I hope y’all enjoyed this one! <3

next chapter

taglist: @verseoks @multilovee @jenduexie @slfmint @smallfrye @istgcyj @delightfulturkeypainteroaf @sanslostairpod @2504-life @hwas0ng @yourgalxy @exo-xing @rensunjun @flowrsforfun @justchaoticwhispers @gayliljoong @http-lovelyknow @kpopnightingale @rielleluvs @queentiti72 @paralumanniluna @sleepychimm @chittaphonstar @yoongiigolden @choisandwich @cooljuni @dear-dreamie @bangtanxberm @havetaeminforbreakfast @screechingstayminrain @cheonsa-unnie @knucklesdeepmingi @pingyu-in-wonderland @wxnderingthoughts @5sos-wdw @atzcoke @atinysparkle

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seventhcallisto · 4 months

Text

Ateez 'n free use (+ somno)

Everything has been consentually talked about beforehand, in passing and seriously !! Mwuah. Lots of smut under the cut. barking. foaming at the mouth.

"Hi love bug 💗 I wanted your thoughts and opinions on ateez with somno / free use heheh" —ask @hhoneylix (my lovely pookie bear) 7.2K WC OF FILTH.

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In a free-use fantasy, partners can have sex with each other whenever they want, no holds barred. Somnophilia refers to the interest in having sex with a sleeping person.

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Wooyoung. It doesn't take much convincing for him to agree, even the words would have him nodding eagerly. He doesn't even question the trust you two have cause you're both in sync like that, maybe he hands his heart out to you on a platter, despite his own head telling him he could end up with it broken (he doesn't care cause he knows he loves you to the moon and back). But if you are just as agreeing as him it'll have his heart soaring. He definitely uses you most days, happily too. He'll tease you; not letting you cum as he gets himself off. But it doesn't last for long when he's between your thighs a minute later. Over and over again and throughout the day. Teasing you so you'll find a reason to ruin him for the evening.

When you both first started, I can see his eyes flashing with everything he'll want to do or want you to do to him. When he realizes you're not saying it as a joke anymore (like you have done before), he completely folds, he's just a whole sub for the first day you guys try it out, whether a bratty one or a good one, he cries for it either way. He gets himself worked up the entire day because it caught him off guard, so whenever he thinks about anything you're doing, calling his name- specifically the nickname you use for him- god, he's throbbing. Telling him to pick up his mess that he left like some guy who can't clean up after himself with your mad tone that reminds him of how you fuck him up when he's being a brat. He'll most likely hide away during practice to try and jerk off (knowing him, he probably also sent you an audio message of it to see if you'll be the first to cave and just brutally use him) but it's just not working :( he gets so frustrated, on the edge of being mean because he's so horny. He snaps his tone, and his attitude sours into something whiny and needy.

He gets borderline bratty when he's so horny. So, at some point, when you're doing your skincare, he pushes at your lower back to bend you over the counter just the slightest, his hands sliding to your hips when he comes to grind his erection against you, a shuddered sigh falling from his lips. His head falls over your shoulder blade. "need this, please, 'm gonna make you feel good too, just want to be inside so bad" he'd mumble as he wiggled your pants down, giving you the opportunity to stop if you'd like. He wouldn't waste a second to jerk his dick out of his own pants and line up to your core. He notices you're also wet, so you've probably thought about this as much as he has all day. You truly don't know how much that drives him crazy. And knowing that you're always ready for him has him driving his cock all the way in you.

Only stilling for you to adjust to his stinging size. But he doesn't sit there for long because he's trembling with his hands placed on either side of you, his hips grinding your ass forward cause of his pelvis. It really doesn't take long for him to cum, especially if you're telling him how needy he is. How he can't even wait til you're done to fuck. "n-no, don't move, please- ill be quick- let me cum-" He whimpers and agrees with everything you say. "You're right- you're always right- fuck I'm addicted to you- I'm your whore- oh god-" lost in the way you feel around him as he drives his hips all the way to meet yours in sloppy liquidy slaps. His hands grip the counter around your stomach tightly, his fingers turning white from the grip, caging you against it. His eyes clenched close every so often, strangled gasps choked from his throat. He paints your walls with his cum, slumping over your back and shaking ever so lightly in the afterglow. You don't get to cum because he already did before you. He verbalized that when he tried to rub circles over your neglected nerve bundle. You swipe his hand away, going on to wash your own and continue your skincare, even with him still inside. He loudly whimpers, knowing he's in for a long night for every rule he's broken today. :((( he's sorry!(no he's not)

When you brutally and completely obliterate him later, tied to the bed and shaking after every edge or orgasm he has. You finish him with an unhealthy amount of kisses to his face and aftercare that has him cuddled up on your stomach, his face digging into your side. He falls asleep like that. It's really no for long when he wakes up, jolted from a pleasant and not very wholesome dream. Your hand is already stroking him over his shorts, cupping and pushing against his hard on that's imprinted and leaning against your hip from where he's halfway thrown over you. “Are you awake now? So needy woo, even when you're asleep, trying to hump me like a pillow” he whimpers when you laugh at him, pushing his thighs apart for more friction and shoving his face back into your chest. “Come on baby, you want to cum again? So early?” your hand stops for just a second, enough for his teary and tired eyes to blink up at you. Your hand slipping past his waistband and jerking his sticky tip. He's loud and definitely more affected like this. Choking on a sob when your nails scrape against his length and veins. He cums with a guttural choking gasp, jerking forward to stimulate himself the rest of the way with your palm. Staining his shorts with semen. He's definitely fucking you when he wakes up later. Even if you're still in deep sleep. Two can play that game.

Mingi. Oh. Oh! It takes a good hard minute for it to click. He loves it, though. Of course, he trusts you (a little too much), and he'll shyly ask if you trust him as much too (and you do!). It also doesn't take much convincing for him. He gets so turned on from the idea. Just imagining being able to get off whenever you're around. You might actually be fucking more often because of it. Like, every day. His libido is crazy. But what drives his will is the idea of being buried balls deep in you. And with somno??? Oh lord.

You're asleep when he comes home from practice, and he just really wanted you. Even when he tried to wake you up with a gentle pat to your shoulder, you don't even greet him. Turning over away from him. He knows you're not ignoring him on purpose, too tired to respond to the outside world in your head. He didn't think about using you in your sleep until he was choking on a cup of cold water. Remembering the conversation you had on the phone earlier. “Yknow mingi, if I'm ever asleep when you get home, I don't mind”.

He's slipping himself between your legs on the bed, carefully. Of course, he notices when the only thing you're wearing is his shirt and underwear. Watching you sleep on your stomach with a pillow propped under your chest comfortably and your arm shoved under the pillow where your head lays. Missing the way his body would be next to yours even in your unconscious state. He'd coo internally, pushing your thigh up so it's leaning up on the bed some more, your core and ass sticking out from the angle through the tight fabric of your underwear. He'd slip his fingers into you, pushing the thin fabric aside, working you open with quick and gentle scissoring motions. He'd praise you with his own tiny breaths when you clenched around the digits. Watching your face scrunch up from the feeling. Your head digging into the pillow some more and pushing back against his hand that's rubbing against your cunt. He knows your cue and clumsily pulls his fingers out before you can cum, whimpering in your sleep.

“Shh, im putting it in now princess, don't worry” he'd kiss your neck, leaning over you. Ready to please with something bigger and more fulfilling. His knees placed on eitherside of your hips just as he pulls his pants down. He lines his tip, holding your panties aside so he can slip in comfortably. It's so easy when you're relaxed. So pliable around his big cock when he sinks in, his hands gripping your lower hips. And holy fuck. Mingi is definitely doing this again. His eyes cloud as you swallow him in, every inch being lubed up easily. He sets a slow pace, pushing you further up the mattress with his bigger body that cages over your own soft and completely willful one. His hips rock forward, every so often to pull all the way back until his tip is around your ring and just slide in. He groans under his breath, quiet in the night. Your own sounds are whimpered and small due to the pillow in your face. Your face scrunches, and mingi feels you stirring, moving in your sleep as you begin to wake up. “Hey sleeping beauty” he shushes, leaning over you to prop his hands on either side of your head instead, making sure he doesn’t slip out. “‘m just using you like you told me to” he would sigh into his words, stuttering every so often when he bottoms out again and again, his hips dig and prod so good, burying to the hilt and pushing his tip into your cervix. “Perfect pussy, was made for me..” he groans, fingers digging hard into the sheets. “mingi..” You finally whisper, driving his heart rate higher, he hums to answer you, thrusting his hips down quicker.

Groaning at your walls fluttering. You're cumming with a shudder, pushing your ass back against his thrusts. “mingi-” you heave, shoving your face into the pillow. With a few extra sloppy thrusts, mingi stills with himself buried to the hilt inside you. It pools deep inside you, leaving you warm and sticky and oh so full. “Taking it soooo good, just like that..” he praises, soft breaths fanning against your face. He slips himself out to lay beside you, just to lay down for a bit. Your eye peaks open, meeting his sweaty face. “Hi, I missed you,” he chuckles.

San. He's so excited and so ready for it whenever, just nodding along and mutually agreeing on the topic. He'll want to know you're fully in it, even going out of his way for consent first at the start of the day. Like, always asking for consent even if you tell him to just use you already. Trust is easy when it's always consented beforehand. He loves you a lot, wouldn't even debate with you on the subject of who loves who more. And it isn't even a question when he trusts you blindly all the time.

He wants you to initiate that first time, so when you pull him out of the room as soon as he's off stage, he knows the way your feet stomp, n the way you grip his wrist in your hands. He bows his head at everyone who passes, all of them seemingly put off by your behavior. But it doesn't matter cause san is about to get high off of you. His face in shoved into your core the minute his knees hit the floor of the bathroom, his pants creasing, he's still sweaty from performing on stage, but who gives a fuck when your leg is thrown over his shoulder. Pussy drinker !!! He swallows so hard and his tongue licks everything up, throat vibrating when he moans over your clit. You're tugging his hair and his scalp burns in the best way. You cum shortly after, and he devours it all. Pushing him into leaning against the wall so you can slot to your own knees and drop his pants, his buckle cluttering against the floor. His head gets thrown against the wall when you take him in your mouth, he palms your head but doesn't dare to grip it. The pace you set on his cock is yours to control and yours alone. He moans airily, thrusting his cock down your throat, I can see san preferring head to be messy, especially when you go down on him. So make those nasty gargling sounds and slurp him like you're thirsty. “Y-ah- you couldn't wait?” He asks through a moan, hands wrapping around to pull your hair out of your face. Ever the gentleman as he plunges his pulsing tip down your sloppy mouth. You hum around him, as if that's an answer. He cries, “oh- just like that- ugh” you hum again, he thrusts hard, cumming just as harshly. You swallow everything and more, overstimulating him when your cheeks hollow as you pull off him with a pop. He's pulling you up to sloppily make out. You stop him, finger over his lips when he chases you. “We have to get back baby, I can't be late.”

n somno? He's the one to initiate it. He's coming back to your shared hotel room after doing a live. Exhausted and just wanting to cuddle. The first thing he hears when he moves into the bed next to you is you calling his name, hand reaching around for him. “San?” You whisper. He heeds your call with a kiss on your cheek. Intertwining your wandering hand with his. “I'm here baby” You turn over your side, humming with content when you fall back to dreamland. Something about you calling him, just needing to feel his hand over you, god, it's ridiculous, but he's hard. He tries to breathe, to ward the boner away. But you look so pretty in those shorts, and your top is so silky falling off your shoulder like that.

And soon enough he's giving into his desires and working his cock with his hand that isn't in yours. Tugging himself off and hiding his noises, it's not enough, of course not, cause it's not your pussy, he's just not in it, even when he spits in his hand and uses his precum. He can't even focus, turning you over to lay flat on your back, his hand slipping from yours. You stir, just slightly, eye peaking open to look down at him over your waist, he holds himself just above you, pecking the skin where the shirt rid up on your tummy. He kisses your hip that's free of the cloth on it, trailing kisses everywhere. “Can I pretty? Can I please have you right now?” he whispers so sweetly. You nod, despite still being groggy. “let me sleep still okay?”. You don't have to tell him twice, he kisses just under the swell of your stomach, appreciatively, dipping his hands into your shorts and undies to pull them off in one go. “Just let me do it all, don't worry your pretty head about anything” Pussy drinker !!!! His face is buried inside you, grinding his cock against the white sheets, you hum and moan quietly, urging him on.

He brushes his nose against your clit and indulges himself on working you with his tongue and his fingers, praising you through breaths when you come to the edge, he lets you cum with a gaspy call of his name, encouraging your thighs to almost suffocate him when he laps up your juices. He crawls up to you with one more appreciative kiss against your clit, pushing his cock in with ease, neglected and so red :( he practically falls apart above you. Snapping his hips a couple of times to be as close to you, pushing himself to cum from all the strain he's been putting his poor cock through. He pants when he cums, your name falling off his tongue like a sinatry, all the while you hardly stir, eyebrows scrunching at the warmth of his load gathering in your cunt. You're so warm, he falls atop you with a sigh, stilling inside. You're both definitely going for a second round, cause he woke you up and now he's the sleepy one.

Seonghwa. Oh! Okay! Oh god. He loves the idea, although a little nervous at first, all mutual agreements might end up with you both already going through a list of things that is completely fine. Would want to know everything you don't like and do like beforehand. He's so happy to know you trust him, although it took a hard time for him to open up to you, he's completely and wholeheartedly in it as soon as he knows, communication is the first thing with him and then trust. It's very sweet for a while until you guys actually get to doing it.

Uhm, I also see him as a pussy drinker, sorry not sorry. He wants to be buried in you all the time. But it isn't until you're propped up on the couch, the tv playing in the distance, he's been needy for affection lately and maybe you haven't noticed it as much, he shifts against your hip, head leaning over your shoulder, watching your eyes slump close and flutter from his breath on your cheek. For a second you think he's getting up when he slips down the couch, but the next he's throwing your legs over his shoulder and tossing your pants. When did that happen? “Go on love, keep sleeping, don't mind me” you do mind. A lot. He kisses your inner thigh. Even as he pushes his hair behind his ears softly and sticks his tongue out to lick along your entirety. You buck as he swirls your little bud, sucking on it. His eyes are closed in bliss, hands gripping your thighs so tightly.

He eats you out like a man enjoying a five course meal, knowing every sweet spot that has you seeing stars, even without his fingers you cum with his name on your lips, but he keeps going, nosing your thigh before he's diving back in. He has you there in mere minutes again, you can't even focus on the dream you were just in. I can see seonghwa with his head buried in your thighs for hours with a few breaks in between that has you thinking he's done(he is not) trying out every little thing he thinks of, how quickly he can get you there and how easily you come undone if he just puts even his fingertips in. He teases you with his words and edges you on. Every so often if you're just doing something casual, he'll stick his hands down your pants and make you cum on his fingers. “That was a good one love, you sounded so pretty” you hate him. But it's no different when you straddle his waist when he's laying on the bed, his own phone in his hands.

He greets you gently, it's really innocent at first cause you're touchy and seonghwa loves it when you're touchy. When he notices your hips are wiggling back and forth over his lap, he places his phone to the side to watch you, you're just,,, just there. Hovering above him, he can feel the heat of your body over his own, your head on his chest as you pretend to relax with him. He knows what you're doing, and he lets you, his cock stirring in his silky pants at the thought of being inside you. Your finger scraps against the hem of his pants, he moans quietly. You pull him out of his slacks and pump him the rest of the way to make him fully erect, his hand lulled to the side as his phone continues to play the video he was once watching. You pump him slowly, watching his tip pebble with sticky white drops. He watches you come up to hover your hips above him, lifting your oversized shirt to the side. It's then he realizes you're not in anything other than the shirt. His lip perked up into a smirk, it's quickly wiped away when you sink down on him. His mouth falling agape. Screw his phone, it's already gone, across the bed. His hands guide your hips in lazy swirls, pretty moans falling from his mouth. His eyebrows furrow and he's just so pretty as you lifts your hips and drill them down on him, cutting off his moans every time you do so. His fingertips dig into your waist, pleading for you to keep going and helping you out when you slow down. Taking it at your own pace until he swings you forward and thrusts up into you.

It's you using him, but he needs to be buried to the hilt the entire time. “Keep going- mm” His cock throbbing against your insides and hitting so deep cause he's so long. He can get loud but it's mostly breathy moans. When he cums- and it's inevitable- he's crying from the overstimulation of you continuing to hug his cock in your cunt. He watches you swirl your hips forward to chase your own orgasm, pleading for you. “S’too much please please- cum on my cock- need it so bad” Not to stop, but to get there with him as he sputters with tears down his cheeks from how good he feels. You cum quietly, falling over his chest and leaving yourself buried in his neck, he whimpers. Your hips continuing to swirl. He grips them, stopping them so he can get some relief. When he's softening inside you, he kisses your head gently. Picking up his phone to continue scrolling.

Hongjoong. Again! He loves the idea. It doesn't take any convincing. He might be the one to bring it up first. It'll start off with free use and gradually get to talking about the somno part. He'll tell you he wants to know your thoughts before he voices his own, just so he isn't pressuring you into it. He buzzes with excitement and also just so much love. He's always wanted you both to feel comfortable enough to get to this part of your relationship. And when it finally comes up, he just uses and abuses it after the initial agreement. God. He loves knowing you trust him to do it to you whenever, and he vocally tells you he loves the idea of you using him when you feel like it. Despite being shy with how he says it. It doesn't take much time for him to fall completely for you and trust you with his entire being.

I see him using you all the time. Whenever he can get his sneaky fingers around your hips and dig his boner into you. Casually talking about his day when you're standing at the kitchen counter, well- he's already pulling your dress up and slotting your underwear down in a swoop. His nimble fingers slotting into you quickly. “What was that? Go on angel” he'll want you to talk through it, telling him about your day through whimpers and stuttering. “n then she- oh god joong just like that-” you’d end up a mess, and he hums, encouraging your words. Pulls out just as you're about to cum. And then he kisses your cheek and pulls your underwear back up. he's the worse. Ugh. You'll have to be the first to fuck him up. He's talking as he drives, a quiet tone to his voice in the peace and quiet, completely oblivious to the heat in your eyes. He stares at the road and practically jumps when you lean over into his lap, his hand goes to hold your head, on instinct.

“Bab-” you're pulling his zipper down. oh! Oh!!! OHOHO. He quirks in your grasp, cock springing to life the quicker you jerk him off. When you spit on his length that's when he moans lowly, you slap his thigh. And he jolts. “Pay attention to the road.” Fuck him up!!! Despite reaching that edge with only a few short tugs and your painted lips swirling over his tip lightly, he doesn't cum at all cause you're already at the destined location. He hates it, he drove as slow as he could and yet he still didn't cum in your pretty mouth :( Grumbled whines under his breath as he shoves himself back into his jeans. The fabric hurts. And you're smirking at him like the devil. You're playing a dangerous game. And when he gets you alone in a house full of people you know, he's got you crying, pretty mascara running down your face and throating his length until your nose brushes against him.

“hngh- You did this to yourself angel” He clicks his tongue, head thrown back against the door. It's lewd and it's definitely free use for him when he uses your head to jerk himself off on your tongue. He takes a good solid time getting there, shoving his load down your throat and pulling out enough to watch the rest spurt over your lips. Swipes it off with his thumb and puts it back in your mouth. “suck,” if by chance he's sleeping or resting, which is rare. You won't be the one to do it to him often, on the other hand he'll want you to. But he definitely won't make you. So one day when you've had it rough, just tug his sweats down with his back resting against the bed, a soft edge to his face when he sleeps. pillow slotted under his grasp and head thrown to the side. Oops, he's already hard. Morning wood. Or was he just having a nice dream? You're already on him in seconds, bottoming him inside til your pelvis meets his. His eyebrows furrow and his breathing picks up. Gasps falling out of his parted mouth, his hands twitch every so often when you call his name quietly. As if he can hear you in his dreams. Your name is the only thing he says every so often, jumbled and under his breath when he moans prettily.

Whenever he twitches too much inside you, and his face scrunches you stop so he can't cum just yet. He'll whimper and whine, throwing his head back and around. His hand comes to rub his face and then fall back to his side, right next to your knees. You swirl your hips against and practically write your name on his dick. He'll stir the second time you edge him, waking him up to one of the best sights. “Ah. m- fuck- cumming” he whimpers, pistoning his hips up to meet yours, he continues to do so even when he cums, load splattering against the sheets when it pools out of you, he tells you to keep going, encourages it too. Sloppy the whole time, overstimulating himself so he's hard again, throbbing and moaning loudly, his cheat shuddering with every breath he takes. When you cum he's pulling you down to shove his tongue down your throat, catching every sound and vocal cue with his fingers rubbing against your clit. He overstimulates you in the process too.

Yunho. Might genuinely take a couple of times to talk about it more than once. He just wants to know you're the one completely fine with it. (cause he is!) He'll work his way up to it, sleepy sex and telling you he'll handle it the whole time. And when he feels the need to be buried in you, he'll always ask beforehand, tell him he doesn't even need to ask, cause he always will. He trusts you with his heart, so of course, he trusts you completely when it comes to sex. You both are completely in tune.

It's mostly casual when it happens. It usually starts because you're in a position he likes, letting his imagination go on for a bit, you're on your tummy on the couch, feet kicking behind you and typing away at your phone. He could feel like a perv for the way he's looking at you, oblivious to his growing hard-on. But he can't help it when he crawls over you to lay on your back, his dick pressing into you through his sweats. You go to question him. He smiles shyly. “Nothing baby, just want to be close to you” yeah uh huh sure bud. It's fine for a couple of seconds until his hips move, and he's sighing in your ear. You just let him get himself off, typing away. Ignorant to the way it's just not working for him, he slips your shorts down, and you only slightly help with lifting your hips. He'll immediately go at it, kissing your shoulder and neck, appreciation on his tongue when he tells you he'll be quick. He slips himself out and bottoms inside with ease. The stretch is perfect.

Yunho has a big cock but you take it like a champ, he always has you prepped for him too. It's just so easy to slip into you. His hand snakes under your waist to pinch your clit, you jolt away from the sensation, dropping your phone. It slides too far from your reach. It's not long of yunho's soft pace before you moan at him to go faster. Through a gaspy groan he laughs, his large palm holding him up on the arm of the couch and the other spreading your thigh farther open for him to watch you suck him inside. His pace quickens, it's enough for you to feel satisfied, throwing your hips back to meet him. The slapping noises are lewd, consuming the entire living room with just you two. Yunho is just big in general, so the tiny couch(that needs to be replaced) hardly holds his size. He's using his foot to push himself harder into you, his knee bending the couch harshly. Soft grunts and heavy pants coming from his chest, it reverbs off your back, although he's leaning over you he's still close.

His other hand circling your clit and swirling the bundle. You cum with a guttural whimper, his name quiet on your tongue. “gonna fill you up real good baby,” he smirks through his words. “You're gonna keep it in, yeah?” You nod your head, whining from the sensitivity. Yunho cums with your name chanting off his lips, hips stuttering above you. If you do use him while he's sleeping he's more likely to move with you, meeting your hips as he ruts in his sleep. Eyebrows pulled taunt and mouth agape. He lets out the prettiest groans. He cums with one final loud moan, fisting the sheets, and completely and wholeheartedly falls back into sleep. It's like he didn't wake up at all, and he didn't! Make sure you clean him up tho. Carefully. I see him using you more than you using him, only on occasion though. When he's sleepy and just wants to feel you around his cock. So hard he can't take the strain anymore, he throws your thighs over his lap, already pantsless both of you. Your sleepy body leaning into his warmth.

He kisses your calve, propping both of your legs over his shoulder before he's sliding in. He's already prepped you with his fingers. He's a bit more quiet then, focus on just having his way with you(because you let him) but also to see you unravel with him with no filter or anything blocking you from letting it all show on your face? He really likes it, like. Really. Likes it. His sloppy hips are more likely to make you wake up, or the stretch in your legs as you're bent over him, sandwiched between him and the bed, his thumb drawing figure eights on your clit to reach you there faster. Your whine is scratchy, signaling you're close. He'll coax you with words even if you can't hear him “go on baby, cream around me” He groans right in your ear when you tip, hands reaching out to hold him close because you've suddenly woken up to your legs shaking and an orgasm wracking your body. Yunho often cums with you and this time is no different, he's stilling with his chest shaking from his breathing. Curling his hips forward so he's all the way in. Keeping you full with his essence.

Yeosang. It takes sooo many words of affirmation for him to even think about it. He's just a bit too scared of the idea of you not being in the mood or enjoying it. He puts your pleasure before his all the time and when you tell him to just use you to his heart's content he just really can't :((( baby just wants you to be in it as much as he is. He wants to know his pretty baby is feeling as good as he is, and eventually, he'll tell you that himself when you bring it up again. You're free to use him whenever !!! He'll always be prepared and ready for you. He gets turned on by you, even mentioning you want him in that way. (He loves being the one you want even if the situation isn't sexual), so when you tell him to imagine, you're always wanting him (and you do). His thoughts on it will shift.

Once again, he doesn't act it out much when it comes to free use. On the other hand, I could see him turning over in his sleep, waking up from a sweaty dream. He can't get the thoughts of dream-you out of his head, so he does what you've recommended you both do before, kissing your shoulder to see if you'll wake. You don't, and so he goes on, trailing them down your collar before he's at the hem of your shirt. He's slipping himself under it. Sucks on your boobs while he jerks himself off :( I don't really see yeosang using your cunt as you sleep; he prefers to see his pretty baby up close to see your eyes flutter. But maybe on a special occasion if he really really REALLY wants you, he'll push you to your side so your back is pressed against his chest, pulling your shorts and undies down enough to push his cockhead in. He sighs so prettily and makes sure you don't show any discomfort from the stretch, his pace is slow and sleepy, just trying to get there from a few thrusts in your warm and wet hole.

He'll use his fingers to rub soothing circles around your clit. Paying special attention to the way your body reacts cause you can't really use your words. When it comes to sex like this he's quiet. Not very vocal cause he's so focused on driving his hips in and out of you. His length soothing in its pace against your cervix. Your eyes flutter when you feel the heat of needing to cum, waking up in the movement of yeosangs thighs against your ass. “Yeo-” you cry quietly, cumming tightly, the fluttering around his length has him airily groaning, your hand reaching to hold his that's kept on your waist to hold you close. He hums, broken and short and breathy. Before he's speeding up his messy pace and cumming inside. He stills and doesn't bother moving for a good minute, even as you turn your head to pepper kisses on his temple, his face shoved into your neck. Genuinely could see him almost falling asleep like that, buried inside you and completely comfortable. But as soon as he feels you wiggling he'll get to cleaning up. Also the type to just let you use him whenever you want too, he'll gladly just sit back and let you.

He'll be on the couch with his phone in hand, probably in one of the many dressing rooms waiting for the rest of the guys to get back. You drop to your knees in front of him and he immediately fumbles, eyes dashing to the door. “I locked it, don't worry” you pull the zipper of his brand new pants down, the leather straining against his thighs. His cock throbbing in your tight grasp, pumping him to stand full. He'll throw his head back against the couch and bite his lip to hold his moans when your mouth wraps around him. Getting him there quicker than he can proudly say, he'll whimper and hold his own hips down. Noticing every sound and how loud it seems to him. He'll hold your head, gently, following you with it against the back of it. Your pace is rough and brutal, getting him off with sticky noises and humming against his tip. He might actually start whimpering through his bruised lips.

“Sl-slow down-nng” oh my god he feels a bit bad when his hips thrust up against your throat. Eyes scrunching with pleasure, his hips don't know whether or not to pull away or to keep drilling up into you. So he's squirming on the couch, little sounds escaping here and there when you swallow around him. He warns you when he's about to cum, his hips driving away from you and digging into the couch. His hand fisting against the back of your neck shakily. Your name is the last thing he says before he's seeing stars and shooting his load on your tongue, if you swallow it up greedily he will definitely start shaking from the stimulus. “Jagi- ah.” His hand curls, your lips popping off him. He completely deflates on the couch. You'll have to do the cleaning up, be gentle though he gets really sensitive.

Jongho. It really is about trust with him. It will take a lot and so long before you guys even get to that part. Trusting you completely will be the most fragile part of it, jongho doesn't necessarily wear his heart on his sleeve so when he gets into it with you, he really has to think about it on his own for a good couple of days. So when he comes around and brings it up again, you tell him he doesn't have to agree for your sake. But he genuinely is agreeing because he loves you, and he's beginning to love the idea of being used by you when you need him. He just always wants to provide in every way possible. He'll only want to use you on the most stressful of days, though.

His cock is there for you to use and abuse to your content. He won't verbally say it (ever) but you know he finds a certain love for you using him so much. He'll be resting with his head on the couch and his body completely relaxed, drifting away in his own head. He'll immediately wake up to you leaning on his lap. He's no fun for somno, he wakes too easily especially if he feels you on his lap or anywhere near his dick. He'll paw at your hips and sigh knowingly. Eyes still closed and just the hint of a grin on his lips. “Right now?” He'll tease, his sleepy voice just ugh, and the little chuckle he does. Slide down his shorts and help him shuffle them down a bit, he'll help with pumping himself a bit so you can shuffle your own clothing off. Just slow strokes to his growing cock, he shudders when you line him up and use his tip to drag through your folds. Might even get impatient with the way his hips buck. But when you sink down his eyes are slowly opening to watch your joint area. Swirling your waist back and forth on his lap.

He's not very helpful this way; you're the one who woke him from his nap and now you should be the one to get you both off. You're cumming before he is, hips stilling and falling on his chest. He clicks his tongue, a short amount of teasing coming from his chest. His hips stutter, pushing you back down with his strength. He cums shortly after. Just buzzing with domesticity, he'll just be happy to stay like that for a while, but the liquids dripping along his body just won't do for him. You're the one cleaning up cause you initiated it ! Sorry not sorry. If it's a long day and jongho is just coming home, his body is heavy and his head pulsing with a growing headache from the amount of things memorized. You'll be the first thing on his mind, being close to you always blows off steam but he will debate on whether or not he'll want to wake you up or just go on ahead.

So he takes the easier option. Cooing at you gently when you sigh softly, he's positioned right by your butt as you're turned on your side. You’ve definitely fallen asleep from waiting on him. You'll call his name softly, propping your head up to look at him. “Shh, just relax and let me do all of it for you, turn your pretty head off for me” he kisses your lips so sweetly, just a short peck and you're already turning your head back into the pillow he brought from the bedroom, body sighing and falling back. Preps you with his hands and fingers, gently swirling them inside you and working you open for him. Encourages your orgasm when he knows you like a certain thing he does, shushing your soft moans. He always preps you to take him. He likes it better that way. So he's already strained and hard to the touch in his palm when he slips himself out of his jeans. Hissing from the harsh fabric under his breath. He'll make sure to lube himself up with his own spit beforehand so you're not lubing his length up completely by yourself.

Works the head in and gently leans over you, breathing softly above you. He'll swirl his hips to get himself all the way in, stopping to pull out and ease more of his length inside. Eyeing your comfortable state the entire time. His pace will be erratic and slow, just finding what works best for the angle and what makes you squirm around him. Once he finally finds it, he'll encourage it on, pouding into your gummy spot until you're whimpering. Hips stuttering occasionally from the way you clench around him “There you go, sweet girl, just like that” he coos, watching your body shake from the orgams ripping out of you You sigh so prettily when he drills his cock back in, holding your thigh to keep you close even as you pull from the overstimulation. His breath stuttering our of his lungs when he paints your insides. Falling the rest of the way over you. He sighs heavily. Brain shortwiring. He'll definitely be doing that again.

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UHM UHM, I... I GOT CARRIED AWAY.

Thank you to my pookie for being so patient with me ;( ily bb, here's that request you've been waiting for. And my cutie patootie @uhhheather for helping me out w jongho n yeosang. U played an important role so thank uuuuu

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