#Ateez imagines

[atzinwonderland]

Ateez react to their s/o calling them by their full name

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。

fluff, humour, a bit of angst | ateez x reader

Hongjoong

Working at his home studio all day, Hongjoong felt exhausted. All he wanted was some good food and sleep. Stepping out of the studio, he left everything in a hurry and grabbed his phone out of his pocket. Arranging dinner with the members was an easy task. In less than a minute, he was already putting his shoes on and heading towards the agreed restaurant.

Dinner was going great, the mood was chill, and the only thing left on his to-do list was to sleep. Nothing could ruin this peaceful night…or, well, that’s what he thought.

Today was a long day for you. You’d been asked to cover a late shift at work, and since you couldn’t say no, here you were, counting the minutes until it was over. Unexpectedly, for this time of day, your phone rang, and it was none other than your neighbour. You’d never gotten calls from them before, so you thought that it might be important.

“Hello?”

“Hi, um, I didn’t want to call, but—” the neighbour began explaining, but you could barely hear them over the loud music that was playing in the background.

“I’m sorry, but I can barely hear you. Is it possible to turn down the music a bit?”

“That’s the thing… it’s coming from your apartment. It’s also not the first time, that’s why I’m calling”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Really?! Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’ll be finished with my shift in a few minutes, and I’ll head straight home. I’ll talk to my boyfriend since he might be at home, and I’ll tell him to turn it down”

“Okay, thank you”

“No, thank you for your patience. I’ll solve the issue as quickly as possible,” you ended the call. Your blood was boiling at this stage. Your poor neighbour—they must’ve had to endure that for a long time.

You immediately called Hongjoong, hoping to find a good explanation.

"Hi, honey, how's—"

"Kim Hongjoong!" you interrupted, and his sense of calmness was immediately gone. He had never heard you call him by his full name.

"Should I be scared or turned on?"

"Tell me why our neighbour just called and complained about loud music playing from our apartment??" you asked, anger rushing through your veins.

"What?! There's no way I—wait, maybe I did forget the music on..."

"Maybe?!"

"Okay, I did forget it, but I'm not home"

"Then go home now and stop it—we'll talk there"

"Okay, I'm sorry. Just please don't drive mad, okay? Be careful...," he said, making sure that you come home safe.

"Okay, Joong...see you later," you replied, to not worry him, and then hung up.

Somehow, the two of you ended up arriving home at the same time. Not saying a word to each other, you just rushed to get to his computer and turn the music off. After the click of a button, the apartment became dead quiet. That's when Hongjoong knew it was time to apologise and make up for his mistake.

"I'm sorry, honey. This must've caused you a lot of stress," he apologised, as he gently approached you and placed his hands on both sides of your waist.

"To be honest, that call was the last thing I needed—my day was already draining enough. Just please be careful next time. They said it wasn't the first time it has happened"

"There won't be a next time, I promise. I don't want to hear you say my full name ever again"

"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry about that, by the way. The anger just got to me..."

"I think I deserved it...although, It did turn me on, so if—"

You couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. "Shut up, Joong!" you said, as you playfully punched his shoulder.

He knew how to make you smile.

Seonghwa

The other day, you decided to buy yourself a little present—a flower Lego set that you were going to build on your day off.

After you brought it home, you placed it on one of the display shelves in your living room and stared at it for a while, satisfied with your purchase. You were so excited for the weekend to come, so you could build it and put it in your bedroom.

It was finally Friday. You finished work and headed home, excited for the eventful weekend ahead of you.

You unlocked the front door to your apartment, entered, and, one look later, your whole world was crumbling at your feet.

"Park Seonghwa! Noo—how could you do this to me?" you disappointingly shouted at the sight of your boyfriend finishing up the Lego set that was on the shelf, waiting for you to build it.

Your loud entrance scared Seonghwa, and he jumped out of his seat on the couch.

"What happened, love? Wait, did you just call me Park Seonghwa?" he asked, feeling the effects of hearing his full name.

"I was meant to be the one to build that set. I've been waiting all week...," you explained whiningly, at the verge of tears, as Seonghwa walked up to you.

"Really? I had no idea, my love—I'm sorry. I wanted to surprise you by building it and putting it in our bedroom, but I should've asked you first. What can I do to make it up to you?" he asked softly, pulling you into his arms, because he couldn't stand looking at your pouty face.

"I guess if we go and buy another one to build together, that would be nice..."

"Let's do that, love. I would love to build another set with you"

"I also wouldn't mind a massage...and chocolate...," you added cutely, and Seonghwa couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable you were.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, then agreed to your requests.

"Consider all of these done, love. I just have a small request as well..."

"What is it?"

"Can you go back to calling me bun again? I don't really like it when you call me Park Seonghwa," he innocently asked, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Of course, bun," you said, and watched as his eyes sparkled at your words.

Yunho

It was yours and Yunho's day off, and some of your closest friends invited you for a girls' day out. You couldn't say no, because you barely saw them nowadays—it was only right that you go.

Although he was happy for you, Yunho couldn't help but feel upset that he wouldn't be able to spend his day off with you, and pouted until the last minute.

You knew him well—he always acts upset until you leave, and then, once you're gone, he has the time of his life playing all of his favourite video games—so you weren't too worried about him.

Plus, he wouldn't be completely alone. He had to take care of your recently adopted puppy.

You gave Yunho a goodbye kiss, then headed out.

The day spent with the girls was amazing, and you had a very fun time. You had so much fun that you'd completely forgotten to contact Yunho and see how he was doing—and you realised that too late.

You were already on your way back when you decided to call him. Strangely, he wasn't picking up, and that was very unusual for him. Wondering what he was doing, you rushed to get home as quickly as possible.

Taking the keys out of your bag, you unlocked the door, only to be met with an incredible sight.

Yunho, sleeping on the couch, with your puppy asleep on his stomach, all kinds of snacks—even dog treats—spilled all over the living room table, as the tv played his favourite show.

When you got closer, you realised that he had given so many treats to your puppy that now his tummy was poking out. You were mad that he didn’t think of your puppy’s health, but before waking him up and scolding him, you took a picture of the cute scene. Even when he was in the wrong, he was still cute.

“Jeong Yunho, what's happening here?” you said quietly enough not to scare him.

“Who? Oh hi, bug, I didn’t realise you’re back already…I must’ve fallen asleep”

"Why is our table a mess? And how could you give Sparkles so many treats? Look at him, he probably feels sick," you scolded, and Yunho's face turned from happy to embarrassed.

"I'm sorry...My plan was to clean up before you came home, but somehow I fell asleep. I'm also sorry about Sparkles, but I couldn't resist his cuteness—though I know that I should've been more careful," he apologized with his lips pouted, still laying down on the couch, looking down, not having the confidence to face you.

Seeing him like that, you couldn't stay mad any longer. "I'm the one that can't resist your cuteness," you said, giving in with a sigh, kneeling close to him on the couch.

"Next time, just be careful with giving him treats, okay?"

"Okay...," he replied, as a slight blush appeared on his cheeks.

"Actually, I think I also had a little too many snacks," he confessed in a soft voice, and you couldn't help but chuckle. The two of you exchanged looks, then simultaneously looked in the direction of his tummy, poking a little out of his t-shirt.

"Aww, Yuyu, please stop being cute or I might just die..."

"At least I'm Yuyu again. That means my strategy worked," he shared, and you giggled at his remark, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Yeosang

You and Yeosang got invited to an important event, and both of you were quite excited to attend it.

You’d thought of everything—your outfit, your makeup look, and today was finally the day to get ready.

You finished work early and headed to your apartment. Arriving there, you noticed that Yeosang’s shoes were placed near the door, meaning he was already there.

You thought that’s great, because he’ll be able to get ready first, and then you’ll have the bathroom all to yourself. It wouldn’t be a problem to get ready together, but since your bathroom is really small, that’ll make it harder for both of you.

“I’m home, pup”

“Okay, precious, I’m getting ready in the bathroom,” he shouted in a happy voice across the hallway.

“Perfect, I’ll have some food in the meantime,” you said, thinking that in not more than 30 minutes he’d be out of there—but you were very wrong.

After more than half an hour passed, you decided to check on him and see what was happening.

"Pup, are you done yet?" you asked impatiently and hoped for a positive answer.

"Give me five more minutes..."

"Okay, but hurry up—I also need to get ready, and I take longer, so..." you warned, and just like that, way more than five minutes were already gone.

At this point, you couldn't believe how long it was taking Yeosang to get ready.

"Kang Yeosang! You're taking way too long, and I have to get ready as well!" you shouted outside the bathroom door, and when he heard his name being called out, he dramatically opened door.

"What did you just call me?"

"Your name...?" you said, confused, acting like you had no idea what he was talking about.

"Okay, so because I'm using the bathroom, you dared to call me by my full name? How is that fair, when I never said that you can't be in here getting ready with me?"

"Our bathroom is too small, Yeosang," you complained, and without another word, he placed both of his hands on the sides of your waist, gently pulling you close to him, both of you now standing in front of the bathroom mirror.

"See, it works... Plus, I wouldn't mind standing this close to you, precious—it makes me feel good," he flirted, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"You're unbelievable...," you didn't get to finish, before he questioned the end of your sentence.

"Pup?" he said, eyes twinkling with hope that that's how you intended to call him at the end of your sentence.

"Pup," you confirmed, and a wide smile formed on his face.

Yeosang wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you, precious. Now let me help you get ready, so I can make it up to you"

"You better..." you responded cheekily, and he just giggled at your cute anger.

San

You and San have been friends longer than you've been together as a couple. Since the two of you haven't been together for long, he still hasn't had the chance to meet some of your family members—one of them being your older brother. You felt like it was finally time for them to meet.

In your head, the way you described your brother was normal—fitness maniac, extremely protective, hates unhealthy food, but sweet. To San though, your description seemed quite scary.

After hearing your description of him, San thought that the only way to get his approval was through preparation.

A week in advance, San not only worked out harder, but also ordered different types of fitness machines for your shared apartment.

On the day that you went to pick up your brother and bring him to your apartment, while you were gone, he also went to the grocery store and swapped out all of the food you had in your fridge for only healthy food.

Once he prepared everything, he couldn't sit in one place, so he paced around the apartment, hoping that everything would go well.

The sound of the door unlocking made him freeze in his place, standing in the middle of the living room.

"Welcome, y/b/n—" you said, cutting yourself off after taking a look at the sight in front of you. Your whole living room, filled with workout machines, weights scattered all over your shelves and living room table. Walking further in, different kinds of protein bars were displayed on your kitchen counters, two extra-large boxes of protein placed next to your fridge.

"Wow, sis, since when did you get into fitness so much?" your brother exclaimed, surprised at the sight of his sister's home.

Anger rushing through your body, you turned to San as he already felt what was coming his way.

"CHOI SAN! What is all of this??"

"Well, I just wanted to—"

"Do not even finish that sentence. This is all so unnecessary and expensive..."

"But you said your brother loves fitness and healthy food, and that he's also very protective, so," San said quietly, sad that he didn't receive the reaction that he was hoping for.

"Didn't you hear the part when I told you that he's also super sweet??" you asked, still annoyed, but a bit more calm, seeing his embarrassed state.

"No... well, kind of—but the other part scared me, so I had to be prepared," he replied, staring at the ground, his cheeks red from all of the embarrassment.

"Why did you describe me so harshly? San, don't worry, bro—I'm not like that. Y/n just loves to exaggerate"

"Hey, that's not true—I just didn't realise that I made you seem so horrible"

Your brother's words made San really happy, and he finally looked up, not feeling as embarrassed.

"Well, I'm sorry to both of you... I did go overboard," San apologised, and your eyes softened at his words.

"It's okay Sannie," you started, and he felt relieved to not hear his full name again. "...Actually, I'm the one that should apologise—I was too harsh on you," you said, and your brother just couldn't resist teasing you.

"That's right, poor San just tried to be nice"

"Oh shut up, don't get involved in my relationship—you just got here," you teased back, and San couldn't help but chuckle at your bickering.

Mingi

One of your closest cousins growing up texted you that he wants to see you, since the two of you hadn't hung out in a long time. You agreed to meet for lunch at a restaurant you'd been to with Mingi before, because you remembered that they had amazing food.

Going in, you sit at a table with a nice view and start ordering your food, chatting away.

While that was happening, on the other side of the restaurant, there was a person you knew all too well—and he had noticed you. It was Wooyoung.

His first instinct when he saw you giggling away with a guy that wasn’t Mingi was to call him and let him know about the situation.

“Hey, where are you?”

“I’m at my studio, why?”

“Do you know where y/n is, by any chance?”

“Oh, she said she’s quite busy today, so I haven’t spoken to her yet—but what’s up with all these questions?”

“Well, I’m at your favourite burger restaurant, and I can see her from my table”

“Oh, really?! She’s there? She’s probably just getting some lunch”

“That’s not why I called, though—she’s having lunch with a guy”

“A guy? Do I know him?”

“I don’t think so, but they’re really hitting it off—she’s full-on giggles with him,” Wooyoung said, and Mingi’s blood started boiling.

“What?! She can’t be laughing at a random dude’s jokes—wait, is she cheating on me? That can’t be right, there haven’t been any signs whatsoever,” he said, anxiety and anger rushing through his body.

“I just think you should come over here”

“I'm already on my way, but she better not be cheating—otherwise, I’ll be heartbroken,” he said, then quickly hung up the phone.

After rushing to get to you, he dramatically walked into the restaurant, not a care in the world other than you.

“Y/n, how could you do this to me?! You’re the love of my life and I thought I was yours—but I see that I was wrong. How long has this been going on for? Who even is this guy?” Mingi said in a dramatic, loud voice with no breaks between his words, not giving you a chance to say even a word.

As he spoke, the whole restaurant became quieter, and the more nonsense he said, the more it got on your nerves—until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Song Mingi! Pull yourself together! What the hell are you talking about?! This is my cousin!” you exclaimed, and he froze in his place.

He wasn’t sure what to do—beat up Wooyoung or apologise and leave. He decided to go for the second option first, but he was definitely going to do the first one as well.

“Oh, uhm, I’m sorry… I just thought that—you know what, I’ll just leave,” he confessed, disappointed at his actions, and then turned to leave, embarrassed by the whole situation.

You excused yourself and followed him outside.

“Song Mingi, why did you do that? What happened?” you asked calmly now that you were outside, getting some fresh air.

“Please stop, don’t talk to me anymore…” he said, lips pouted.

“Why? I’m so confused”

“I’ll do the talking and explain everything… Wooyoung called me. He said you were here having lunch with a guy I don’t know, giggling at his jokes, and I just—what was I supposed to do? I needed to make sure I wasn’t losing you, so I came here and embarrassed myself,” he confessed cutely, making you regret how harsh you were with him at the start.

You found his reaction really sweet. And although he made a mistake, it was very adorable of him to go and fight for you.

“That’s so sweet—”

“Wait, before you say anything, I can take you being mad, I don’t even mind if you punch me or slap me, but please—don’t call me by my full name. It just hurts hearing you say it,” he pleaded, eyes glossy, almost like he was about to cry.

“I promise I won’t call you that again, and I’m not mad anymore. It wasn’t your fault—you were misled. I actually think what you did was adorable, Mingming”

“You really think so?”

“Yes, you silly boy. Now stop acting dramatic and come give me a kiss, I haven’t seen you all day,” you teased, and the usual smirk on his face returned within seconds.

Mingi approached you confidently, then placed his hands at your lower back, pulling you into a strong kiss.

“Now that this is sorted, I have one more piece of business to finish…” he said mysteriously, heading back into the restaurant.

…“WOOYOUNG!!”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung and the rest of the members were in the middle of a fun dance practice, just goofing around with the other dancers and practicing some moves.

Wanting to surprise him, you picked up some food and drinks for everyone and headed to their practice room.

Walking towards the room you could hear loud music blasting through the walls, making you think they were deep in a tough rehearsal—but you quickly realised you were wrong.

Opening the door, you were greeted with full-on chaos. Some guys were chasing each other, others doing karaoke, and then in the midst of it all was Wooyoung—testing your patience like never before.

By now, you should’ve been used to him doing that, but this time he was really doing too much.

There he was dancing in the center of the room with a girl, having the time of his life. Everyone else was watching and cheering them on—but not you.

You angrily dropped the bag of food on the ground, then stormed through everyone in the room, finally getting to Wooyoung.

“Oh hi, queen—”

“Jung Wooyoung! Outside, NOW!” you snapped, and the whole room went silent.

You pulled his arm and yanked him out the door, leaving him with no time to react.

“Wow, I haven’t heard that name in a while—what’s wrong? Why the sudden attack?”

“What’s wrong?! Are you seriously asking me this?”

“I have an idea... but you know I wouldn’t cheat. So, it must be something else”

“I know you wouldn’t. But dancing like that with a girl who's clearly into you? She’s definitely going to try and kiss you, stealing you away from me!”

“Ohh, I see... my queen is a little jealous," he said with a mischievous look.

“Of course I am! Who does this girl think she is…”

“She’s no one. You know I wouldn’t let her kiss me or flirt with me, right? I mean, I can play around, but there’s a limit”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said, finally calming down.

“One thing though—if you’re mad at her, why scream at me?”

“Well... I don’t know. It just makes more sense?” you mumbled, feeling self-aware.

“Yeah, right," he chuckled. "Actually, you made me realise something… I think you should call me by my full name more often. It’s kind of growing on me,” he confessed with a smirk.

“Really? You want me to call you Jung Wooyoung?”

“Yeah, why not? It shows the authority you have over me. That’s why I call you my queen, right?” he flirted, and once again didn’t fail in making you flustered.

No more words were needed, as the two of you went in for a kiss, closing the distance between you.

Jongho

You and Jongho were in your shared bedroom. You were scrolling on your phone, as Jongho played his favourite video game.

“Yess! I’m so good at this,” Jongho suddenly exclaimed after winning a round of the game.

After another few comments like this, you were done with his cockiness. You were more than ready to humble him.

As he just finished another round, you scoffed loudly, getting his attention.

“What’s your problem, dumpling?” he asked, turning around.

“I’m not your dumpling, I’m your rival…” After a moment of silence, Jongho started laughing.

“Oh wow, that’s so scary,” he teased, leaving you more annoyed than ever.

“Choi Jongho! Do not tease me, because you will regret it!”

“Choi who? Who is that?”

“A person that’ll get humbled really quickly”

“I doubt it, but since you’re prepared to lose—let’s play,” he further fuelled your anger, and you grabbed the other controller, plopping yourself next to him at the edge of the bed.

“I hope you’re prepared for what’s coming your way, Choi Jongho,” you confronted.

“Don’t worry about me so much, and focus on yourself, y/n y/l/n,” he replied.

After a long, dramatic game, you accomplished your mission, and you could just see the shock on his face.

“I hope you learned your lesson, sir—never tease me again”

Being faced with the facts and surprised by your gaming abilities, all he could do was accept the fact that he lost.

“I’ve definitely learned my lesson, dumpling—congrats on your win,” Jongho said as he faced you, and bowed slightly with his head.

“Can I stop being Choi Jongho now?”

“Uhmm…okay, I won already, so you’re not a rival anymore”

“Wow, thank you for kindness,” he joked, and you placed your hand on his shoulder.

“You’re welcome, honey bear!” you exclaimed with a smile, and he couldn’t help but feel happy at being called his usual pet name, showing off his gummy smile.

[littlefluffyragdoll]

Absolutely love the way you portrayed him. His cozy and comfy vibe all throughout this felt real ☺️. Like, he might respond to this situation like this.

[7:16 AM]

"I'm gonna dieeee," you wailed, curling up on the couch. Pouting, you glanced over at Jongho, who was busy preparing breakfast—or at least you thought so—in the kitchen of your shared apartment.

He snorted and shook his head. "You say that every month, yet here you are, alive and well time and time again."

"Would it hurt to console me a little? Try being a woman for a month and see how you like it." With a scoff, you reached for a pillow, ready to throw it at him, but a wave of cramps hit your lower half. Wincing, you clutched the soft material close and waited for the pain to pass.

Damn it, being a woman sucked. If you get pregnant, you suffer for nine months. If you don't, you still suffer every month. Why did you have to be a woman? Life would be so much easier if you were a man. Like that bastard standing there, engrossed in whatever he was doing, neglecting his poor girlfriend who was in so much pain—

"Here you go, babe. I got you your heat pad."

Oh.

Suddenly, you felt guilty for thinking of him that way when all he had been trying to do was ensure your comfort. Your lips quivered as you reached out to him with grabby hands. Damn your period mood swings; they were driving you insane.

His eyes widened in panic at your tears as he rushed over, kneeling beside you and gently pressing the pad onto your stomach, knowing exactly where to hold it by now. One hand on your tummy, the other instinctively cupped your face. "What is it, babe? Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat."

You shook your head, mumbling, "No, that's too much work."

He hummed thoughtfully. "I can cut you some apples, at least?"

"Break them in half, you mean."

He nodded. "Yeah, or that too."

Just as he moved to stand up, presumably to go break some apples, you whined and tugged on his hand. "No, you idiot. I don't need anything else. I just want you to stay here with me… please."

Your boyfriend finally understood the cause of your morning grumpiness. Though your period cramps were always terrible and tended to affect your mood, today you appeared even more restless than usual. He softened as he realised his mistake in fussing over you when all you really wanted was for him to stay by your side.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here now. I'll stay with you for as long as you need me to," he whispered, settling beside you and pulling your smaller frame close. His heart fluttered when you immediately snuggled up to him as if it were second nature.

"Good, then stay forever," you murmured, leaning up to kiss his jaw. He gave you a comforting squeeze, his heart skipping a beat at your words. Pressing his lips against your head, he nuzzled his face into your hair, wondering why he hadn't done this sooner.

"Maybe I will," he said, savouring the feeling of you in his arms, pressed against him. The soft sensation of your breath on his skin, the warmth radiating from you, the rise and fall of your chest against his side, and the dreamy way you looked up at him—all of it made him think that staying like this forever wouldn't be so bad. "Be careful what you wish for. You'd better not grow tired of me when I do cling to you forever."

You bit your lip. "Never, Choi Jongho. I'll never get tired of you." With that, you sealed the promise with a kiss that seemed to make all the period cramps in the world disappear.

ATEEZ Masterlist

The way I'm tired asf but felt the need to get this out of my system before going to bed. It's that time of the month for me HAHA I'm in pain and honestly, nothing makes me feel better than being delulu🤡

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

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ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ➬ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ꜰᴏʟᴅ

ᴍᴅɴɪ

ɴᴏᴛᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ’ᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ 😅 ꜱᴏ ɪ’ᴍ ʜᴏᴘɪɴɢ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ᴏᴋᴀʏ. ᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ, ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ ꜱᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜᴏᴡꜱ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ɪ’ᴍ ᴀᴡᴀʏ. ɪᴛ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ 🫶🏾

ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ It honestly doesn’t take much for this man before he’s melting in your hands like putty. But it’s something about when you give him neck kisses, suddenly he can’t think straight. The feeling of your lips massaging against his skin as they scoured the plains of him, causing his eyes to roll back in his head as he subconsciously lolls his head back to give you more room. Adam’s apple bobbing and hand reaching out to squeeze the skin on your side.

ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ You’ve only really called him baby or honey, or hwa at best throughout the span of your relationship. Then there were those rare times when you actually called him by his name that made him stop whatever he was doing and give you his undivided attention. It’s wasn’t so much you calling him by his name that got him but the tone in which you said it. Sounding so buttery and delicate rolling off your lips. And when it’s followed by certain noises— pumps all the blood flow to his growing member as he makes out with you so feverly passionate. He’s always a goner after that.

ʏᴜɴʜᴏ He’s not sure if you were ever aware of what you were actually doing to him but oowee did it take everything in him to focus on his words and not your fingers that always played with the hairs at the back of his nape. This little habit of yours, he calculated like clockwork whenever you got in deep conversations and always tried bracing himself beforehand to focus on your responses to his questions and not the way your nails felt gently grazing his scalp. Or maybe you were aware of the effect it had on him as there would always be a knowing smirk you’d wear after watching him trying to snap out of his daze.

ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ Eye contact was a little intimidating for him. And even after dating for a while, he can still only hold it but so long with you before he has to look away because if he doesn’t, boy oh boy. Your eyes were just so intense. And looking into them felt like you were staring straight into his soul. It made his heart skip more than just a beat and like it was gonna combust out of his chest as a fervent heat rose in his cheeks and spread to his ears. And if you weren’t trying to kill him more, when your finger came under his chin and turned his head back to face you and his eyes meeting yours again. He can’t help the audible ‘fuck’ that slips from his lips.

ꜱᴀɴ This man loves for your hands to be anywhere on him. Any time and any place, he wasn’t opposed to it. There was something in particular though that stirred a mixture of butterflies and arousal in the depths of his stomach when you placed a hand under his jaw to pull him closer to you before your lips intertwined. He purposefully moans in your mouth to send vibrations to your hand and takes a hand of his own, covering yours and guiding it down to the base of his neck, letting it rest there. At this point he hopes you know that you could make him do anything you wanted with little to no rebuttal from him. Just as long as you kept touching him like so.

ᴍɪɴɢɪ He was already down bad for you and was willing to do whatever or get you whatever you asked for by just a simple bat of your lash. But something he’s been noticing you’ve been a lot more lately is that before asking him for something, you now started to rub his chest as you wormed your way into his embrace, blinking up at him with pleading eyes. He never found himself so quickly saying yes like yes, was the only correct response to give you. Was he aware that you were basically seducing him? Abso-fucking-lutely. He didn’t care though. You could’ve been asking for the impossible and he’d find a way to give it to you and more if every time that’s how you were gonna ask.

ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ is the perfect example of someone who’s able to dish things but can’t take it back. He can’t handle when you give him the same energy back— it fucks with his brain. He’s always aimlessly flirting with you and backing you into corners with nowhere to run, leaving you no other choice but to fall prey to his hooded gaze and endless teasing, leaving you needy for more. Oh but TRUST— when the role is reversed and it’s done to him, malfunctioning is a understatement. He squeals and tries hiding his inflamed cheeks in embarrassment.

“What’s wrong wooyoungie? Can’t take it?” You’d have to pry his hands away from his face and pin them by his head. That’s when you can see how his eyes are dancing like crazy and the way he’s blushing like a maniac. He turns his head in a way to hide from you again despite being completely exposed. Leaning down, you began a trail of precise kisses from the corners of his mouth til you reached his ear, “you’re so adorable when you’re like this for me.”

ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ For him, it’s what you physically do that melts him down. But how you smell, literally drives him crazy. Specifically when you wear perfume. He can always tell whenever you’re around or been in a particular spot because the scent of you always lingers. And if he ever wants to find you, he just follows the smell until it leads him straight to you.

“You smell so good.” He says as he comes up from behind, holding you tight in his arms while his head was buried deep in the side of your neck, taking several breaths of you. Each one seem to intoxicate him more and more but God he couldn’t get enough. He nuzzled closer despite you squirming to get away because his nose was tickling you.

written by yeorisanaxox. No translations or reposting. Leave a like and reblog w [feedback is much appreciated] ✨

[lustlvii]

Ateez members when you squirt. Ft hyung line

Including: Hongjoong , Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang x fem!reader (all separate!)

Warnings: studio sex (hongjoong) dirty talk, squirting, name calling (slut, dumb little thing), mean! seonghwa, porn no plot, overstimulation, possessive! yeosang, unprotected sex, choking (yunho), size kink (yunho), Daddy kink (Yunho), dirty dirty dirty just dirty so prepare yourself, lmk if I missed anything

Authors note: I'm so happy the maknae line received lots of love 😚 here's the hyungs!!! I love yunho btw 😋

Hongjoong.

“Don’t move.” His voice cut sharp through the low hum of the studio monitors, barely audible over the looping instrumental still playing in the background.

You were supposed to be here for feedback on a demo. Just to sit pretty in his lap while he worked. But then he slipped his hand between your legs during playback—just to “check something.”

And now you were panting, lips bitten raw, clinging to the armrests of his black studio chair like they were the only things keeping you tethered to earth.

Hongjoong’s fingers were coated in your slick, his knuckles deep inside you while the pad of his thumb rubbed quick, unforgiving circles over your clit.

“Look at you,” he murmured into your neck, voice low and dangerous. “So fuckin’ wet in my chair. Acting like you didn’t wear that skirt just so I’d do this.”

“Joong—p-please—” you whimpered, voice cracking, not even sure what you were begging for. To stop? To keep going? You didn’t even know anymore.

“You feel that?” he whispered as he crooked his fingers just right, curling them up against that spongey spot inside you that made your legs kick. “You’re close, aren’t you? So fucking close.”

Your hips bucked. The coil in your belly was snapping tighter and tighter and—

“Oh my god—!”

In a split second, his hand slapped over your mouth, muffling your cry as a gush of wetness spilled out of you, soaking the front of his sweats, the leather of his chair, and dripping down your thighs.

You squirted.

All over him.

Hongjoong stilled. His fingers still nestled deep inside your pulsing heat, the other hand still clamped over your mouth. His breath was shallow. And then he laughed.

“Holy shit.”

You squirmed, blinking hard, barely able to see through the tears blurring your vision. “I-I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry I—”

“Don’t apologize.” He pulled his soaked hand back slowly, glistening in the dim LED light, watching your cunt twitch around nothing now. “Fuck. That was beautiful.”

You flinched when he leaned down and licked the mess off his own fingers, groaning like he’d just tasted the best meal of his life.

“You made a mess, baby,” he mocked sweetly, palming the soaked fabric of your panties now stuck to your skin. “Didn’t think I could make you squirt, huh?”

You shook your head, cheeks burning.

Hongjoong gripped your chin, forced you to meet his gaze—intense and hungry, his pupils blown wide with lust. “You’re gonna do it again,” he said simply, like it was fact. Like you owed him that.

“W-what? I—I can’t—”

“You can.”

He dragged you off his lap, bent you over the mixing console, careful not to press any buttons—though at this point, you wouldn’t have noticed if the whole song deleted itself.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he growled, freeing himself and shoving back into your soaked, trembling hole. “And this time, you’re gonna squirt on my cock like a good little slut.”

The music kept playing. The beat rolled on. But all you could hear was the slap of skin, the lewd squelch of your wetness, and Hongjoong’s filthy voice in your ear:

“That’s it, baby. Dumb little thing. Cumming again already? God—you really are mine.”

And you did. Again. And again. Until you couldn’t even cry anymore, only whimper and shake and thank him with slurred babbles.

The studio was ruined.

He didn’t care. He kissed the crown of your head and whispered with a devilish smirk:

“Let’s get that on the next track.”

Seonghwa.

Seonghwa was so pretty when he was gentle. The soft-spoken voice, the feather-light kisses, the way he tucked your hair behind your ear like you were glass.

But that wasn’t the version of him hovering over you now.

His hands were planted beside your head, and his hips were deep—so deep inside you, your belly ached. Sweat glistened down his neck, damp strands of hair stuck to his forehead. And his dark eyes… they weren’t soft anymore.

“Thought you said you could handle it, princess.” He thrust in once, slow but devastatingly deep. “So why are you crying?”

“I-I’m not—ah! Hwa—!”

Your voice pitched up into a sob as the next thrust knocked the breath from your lungs. You could feel yourself getting wetter, feel your thighs trembling and twitching as he pulled back and slammed into you again.

“Liar.”

He dipped his head low, kissing the tears from your cheeks while his cock bullied your walls open all over again.

“You said you could take it.” A hand slid under your leg and pushed your knee up to your chest. “You begged for it, remember?”

You nodded weakly, fingers gripping the sheets, eyes rolling back.

His pace was cruel now. Calculated. Your slick coated his lower stomach, smearing against his skin with every thrust.

“God, this pussy’s filthy. You’re fucking dripping,” he hissed. “Look at you. You're making a mess on me.”

“H-Hwa—please, it’s too much—!”

“Too much?” he echoed, mocking, as his thumb found your clit and started circling fast, relentless strokes. “This too much? Or this?” He pressed harder.

That’s when it happened—your entire body seized up and then released.

Warm liquid gushed out from you, soaking his thighs, your own skin, the sheets. You squirted so violently it splashed his hips.

Seonghwa didn’t stop. Not even close.

He growled low in his throat and pulled out for a second just to watch it. Watched your cunt pulse and gush and spasm like you were ruined from the inside out.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, voice husky and hoarse. “You squirted for me.”

You could barely breathe. “I—didn’t mean—”

“Yes you did,” he cut in. “You wanted to. Your body begged for it. Don’t pretend you’re not a little slut for it now.”

You whimpered, biting your knuckles.

Seonghwa climbed back between your legs, cock still hard, dragging it up and down your soaked slit. He didn’t slide in yet—just rubbed his tip against your clit, teasing, tapping. Watching you squirm.

“Wanna do it again.”

“I—I can’t,” you breathed out, voice hoarse from moaning.

“You can. You will.” He finally pushed back inside—too slow, too deep—and your eyes immediately crossed.

“There’s my girl,” he purred, kissing your jaw, then nipping it. “Gonna fill you up this time, make you squirt while I cum in you. Don’t stop till you do.”

And he fucked you through it, again and again, until the only words you could say were half-spoken sobs and the sound of your own squirt hitting the ruined sheets.

Yunho.

“Holy shit.”

Yunho froze for a half-second, blinking down at where you lay trembling beneath him—your thighs shaking, your pussy gushing.

Clear liquid sprayed from between your legs, soaking his stomach, his cock, and the sheets beneath you both.

He stared, wide-eyed, lips parted. Then his expression twisted.

Into a grin.

“Did you just fucking squirt?”

You let out a choked sob, covering your face with your hands in pure embarrassment.

“D-Don’t—Yunho—”

“Oh no, no,” he laughed darkly, reaching up to yank your wrists away and pin them to the bed. “You don’t get to hide from me now, princess.”

His cock was still buried inside you, twitching, hot and hard and pressing deliciously against the spot that had just made you lose control.

“You squirted all over me, baby. That’s what this pretty little cunt does when it gets really full, huh?”

You couldn’t even talk. Just moaned, legs weak, cunt still fluttering from the orgasm that wrecked you.

“Was it too much?” he cooed mockingly, thrusting his hips once—slow, just to feel you twitch again. “Can’t handle it?”

You shook your head. “C-Can… but—”

“But what?” he leaned closer, lips brushing your ear. “Wanna do it again?”

Your moan gave you away.

He groaned, like he was the one about to fall apart.

“Fucking knew it,” he growled. “Knew this pussy would be obsessed with me. Can’t even stop leaking.”

With your legs still spread open and held wide, Yunho started to move again. More deliberate this time—less punishing, more controlled. Watching you the whole time like a man obsessed.

And when your thighs twitched again—when your moans pitched up, when your hips tried to wiggle away from the pressure—

He sped up.

“Don’t you fucking dare run from it,” he hissed. “Wanna see it again. Wanna feel you gush around my cock, baby.”

“I can’t—! S’too much—”

“You can. You’re gonna squirt for me again, just like the messy little thing you are.”

Your toes curled. Eyes rolled. The pressure hit you even harder than the first time—like a dam about to break.

And then—

“F-Fuck—Yunho—!”

It happened. Again.

Your second squirt hit his thighs, his cock, your belly, everything.

Yunho’s laugh was breathless, wrecked. He kept fucking you through it, holding your legs in place, watching you fall apart with complete awe and total pride.

“That’s my girl. That’s my dumb, messy girl.”

You were crying by the time your third orgasm hit.

And he didn’t stop. Not even close.

“Not done ‘til you’ve soaked the whole fucking bed.”

Yeosang.

You had always assumed Yeosang would be soft.

Gentle. Polite. Almost shy.

But now you were underneath him—spread open, legs over his shoulders, dress bunched around your waist, his cock buried inside you—completely wrecked and shaking.

And Yeosang?

Yeosang hadn’t said a word.

Not one.

Just stared down at you with that unreadable, infuriatingly calm look on his face while he fucked you slowly—so deep, so controlled, so consistent it was driving you insane.

Your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Y-Yeo—can’t—”

His hand came up to your throat—gently, but firm enough to make your next gasp catch—and his hips rolled again.

Right into that spot.

Right into that place he kept hitting again and again and again.

“You can,” he finally said, voice quiet but sharp. “You can take it, baby.”

You whined, vision blurring. “M’gonna—f-feels—”

Yeosang looked down between your bodies, his brows twitching ever so slightly when he saw it.

The wet.

The way your pussy clenched hard around him and started gushing—clear liquid spraying with each helpless jolt of your hips.

You squirted.

You didn’t mean to. Didn’t expect to. But it happened.

“Oh.” His voice dipped lower. Still calm. Still steady. But different.

“You’re squirting?” he murmured, more to himself than you. “That’s how good it feels?”

You covered your face. “I-I—Yeosang—”

He reached down and pulled your hands away, grabbing both wrists and pinning them above your head.

“Don’t hide,” he said, and this time there was a flicker of something smug in his eyes. “Let me see what I did to you.”

You shuddered.

And then he did it again.

Same angle. Same roll. Same deep thrust right against the spot that made your body jerk.

You squirted again.

“Mm.” He tilted his head, blinking slowly. “So messy. What a cute little thing you are.”

“Yeo—Yeosang—too much—!”

“Then cum again.”

That deadpan. That almost disinterested tone as he kept pounding into your soaked cunt, no change in pace, no hesitation, just quiet confidence as he made you come again—

—and squirt again.

The sheets were soaked. Your thighs were shaking. You were gasping, clawing, babbling.

And Yeosang was still looking at you like you were his favorite fucking experiment.

“Didn’t know you could do that,” he murmured, licking his lips. “Guess I’ll have to keep making it happen. Over and over. Until you can't even blink without dripping all over me.”

Writing by @lustlvii please do not translate or publish anywhere

[slutforwoo]

☆16. you dumb nut☆

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@roxhanah @sunnysidesins @spenceatiny18 @kookieswithjung @kcharlyy @bloomyroses @jiminssluttyminx @fairy-jojo @oceanside-view97 @domfikeluva @mountquokka @frecklypotato @bambbiisworld

[kysstar]

R U MINE? | JUNG WOOYOUNG

pairing : : jung wooyoung x fem!reader

synopsis : : wooyoung’s always been obsessed with you — but he hides it behind cocky jokes and teasing. when he finds out someone else has been trying to take his place, his playful act crumbles into something a lot more possessive.

genre : : best friends to lovers

warnings : : alcohol, kissing

word count : : 0.6k

[ series masterlist ]

—He’s always been like this. Touchy. Loud. In your space like it’s his own. Wooyoung doesn’t ask to touch you — his arm just ends up slung across your shoulders, his legs tangled with yours on the couch, his fingers threading through your hair when you’re talking to someone else, and he decides he’s bored. He gets away with it because he always has. You let him, mostly because it’s easier than pretending you don’t like the way his attention makes your skin hum.

He’s got a thing for claiming space — your space, specifically. Always in your seat, drinking from your cup, pulling you into his lap when the room’s too full and pretending it’s casual. Everyone assumes you’re together. You’re not. Not technically. But he doesn’t correct them. Neither do you.

And when someone else gets too close — too friendly — he’s right there.

“You good?” he’ll ask, all false innocence, eyes locked on yours while his hand slides around your waist. Sometimes he doesn’t say anything at all — just appears beside you, mouth at your ear, fingers resting on your hip. You’ve never told him to stop. You don’t think you could if you tried.

You’re leaning against the counter, drink in hand, talking to some guy whose name you didn’t bother to catch. He’s tall, kind of charming in that background-noise way, saying something dumb that makes you laugh — not because it’s funny, but because the alcohol’s warm in your chest and it feels good to be entertained.

Then Wooyoung appears.

You don’t see him come in — you feel him, like a storm behind your shoulder. His hand slides around your waist with zero hesitation, pulling you back just enough that your hip bumps into his. The other guy stiffens, clocks the shift immediately. You barely have time to react before Wooyoung leans in.

“Come here,” he mutters, voice low and tight.

He doesn’t wait for your answer. His hand finds your wrist, and suddenly you’re being dragged through the crowd, out of the kitchen and down the hallway like it’s his party, like you came with him. You pull back once you’re out of earshot, shoving him back with your free hand.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you snap.

Wooyoung doesn’t answer right away. He’s staring at you like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like he’s two seconds away from either kissing you or breaking something.

“You looked real cozy back there,” he says, words sharp, bitter.

Your eyes narrow. “So?”

“So?” He laughs once, humorless. “You don’t get to look at him like that.”

You cross your arms, heart thudding. “Why do you care?”

“Because I do!” he shouts, stepping closer, breath hot. “Because I fucking care, and I’ve been pretending I don’t, trying to be cool, trying to play it like it’s just fun and games and parties and whatever — but it’s not. Not to me.”

He’s pacing again, frantic. “Every time I see you with someone else, I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t want to just hook up with you. I don’t want to share you. I want you to be mine. I want—”

You don’t wait. You lunge forward, fist in his shirt, and crush your mouth to his mid-sentence.

He groans into it, like he’s been holding it in for weeks, hands flying to your waist like muscle memory. You back him into the wall, both of you breathing hard between kisses, teeth clashing, your fingers twisted in his hair like this is the only way you’ll both shut up.

When you finally break the kiss, chests heaving, foreheads pressed together, he’s smiling. That smirk — lazy, infuriating, too confident for someone who just poured his guts out.

“So…” he says, cocking a brow. “Are you mine?”

© kysstar

[astrasng]

I’ve been dreaming about post concert sex with hongjoong

⋆˙⟡ kim hongjoong | rest in me

❕warning: soft dom!hj, cursing, smut, intimate sex, petnames, praises,

oh, hongjoong after a concert is so sensual. he's just tired and wants to finally rest anywhere where you are, either in your arms or in your warm walls.

it's the latter this time.

as he walks down the stage with his inears hanging around his shoulder, heavy breathing and legs already wanting to give up the only thing he can think of is you. he knows you're waiting for him in his dressing room like a good girl, wearing nothing but the breath-taking outfit you picked out just for him to see you in the backstage when he needs some encouragment. he loved having you here as some kind of a token, but when he scans further through your outfits? it's like you want to get fucked after every concert. hell, even on the stage? he thinks.

but he's not wrong, when he hears your whiny moans and scratches on his back as he pushes just his tip inside you, your wet juices coating his cock immediately proves that you'd do anything to have him for the rest of the night.

sweet girl, i need you to relax a little hmm?

hongjoong groans next to your ear as he pulls back a little and hears all the noises your bodies make, his head nuzzled into your neck, his heavy breathing fanning your hot skin as you grab his back harder to push him over the edge. please joongie, i wore this outfit just for you. you'd plea, the skirt you have on flipped over on your stomach so hongjoong can get to your pussy before anything else, his hands slightly trembling as he keeps his upper body up.

god, you're so fucking tight. he pushes a little bit more inside you, feeling his lips now attached on your skin as he peppers kisses all over your neck. him breathing down on your neck, feeling the lovebites he’s leaving behind you can’t let him go without a mark, scratching your nails all over his soft skin on his back hearing all his rewarding moans and groans as he thrusts deeper and deeper. you feel his cock throbbing inside you, molding around you like glove and you feel the sensations creeping upon you when his slender finger circles around your puffy clit.

your head is foggy after all these passing minutes of hongjoong harshly gripping your hips to rut against you, his hand somehow all over you when he feels you spasming around him. he grounds you when you want to squirm away from his intense thrusts. when he bottoms out for the nth time, he’s looking at you with haze and lust in his eyes.

the stretch hurts so good, doesn’t it baby?

he kisses away your tears rolling down your cheeks,relentless pace and adrenaline going through his veins when you let out a loud whine at his words, knowing people are walking outside his dressing room waiting just for him.

but he focuses back on you, his only sweet girl making him feel good even after a long and tiring concert, patiently waiting for her turn to cum as you just lay back and let hongjoong fill you up to the brim, because what else are you here for?

you’re here because you’re his good little girl ᥫ᭡.

@ astrasng 2025

⋮ do not copy, translate, steal, or modify without permission! ⋮

a/n: thank you for your request! i will be honest i feel like i could’ve done something more with this headcanon, but i’m bulldozed with reqs rn. i really hope it’s enjoyable and suits your taste dear anon💗

[sungchoi]

Stay in | 🏔️

pairing: choi san x gn!reader

synopsis: sick and stubborn, you insist you’re fine until san shows up with soup, warmth, and quiet affection, proving that love means never having to be okay alone.

genre/tags: fluff, sick, est. relationship, cuddling, reassurance, a little fun teasing here and there, comfort, domestic fluff, emotional intimacy

wc: 1k

Your phone buzzed with a message from San just as you were reaching for another tissue.

Sannie: You okay? You sounded off earlier.

You hesitated before replying.

You: I’m fine. Just a little tired lol.

Which was true… If “a little tired” meant your head was pounding, throat on fire, and your nose going from slightly stuffy to aggressively useless in the last hour.

You shuffled back to the couch and pulled your blanket up to your chin, silently cursing your immune system. Just as you sank deeper into the cushions, your phone buzzed again.

Sannie: Okay. I’ll be there in 5.

You blinked.

You: What? No!! I told you I’m fine! Go hang with the guys!!

Sannie: You’re not fine. And I’d rather be with you anyway. ♡

You were still typing a feeble protest when a knock on your door interrupted you. You opened the door, still wrapped in your blanket like a half-defeated burrito, only to find San standing there on your doorstep with a grocery bag in one hand and a soft, knowing smile on his face.

“I brought soup, tea, and those M&M’s I know you like,” he said and pressed by, stepping into your apartment.

“You really didn’t have to—”

“I know.” He turned and gave you a look, eyes soft but unwavering. “But I wanted to.”

You followed him back into the living room and San into the couch as your body gave in. San knelt beside you and lightly pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning.

“You’re hot,” he murmured. “Let’s get some fluids in you, okay?”

You silently watched as he padded around your kitchen like he’d done it a hundred times, humming under his breath, fixing the tea and soup from earlier, and making sure to pour the soup into your favorite mug. When he returned, he settled next to you, carefully pulling you into his side.

You let your head rest against his shoulder. He felt solid and safe. His thumb rubbed slow circles on your arm.

“I hate when you're sick,” he whispered.

You let out a weak laugh. “I’m still cute though, right?”

He tilted his head and grinned. “Always. Even when you look like you’re one sneeze away from collapsing.”

You groaned, hiding your face in his hoodie, and he merely chuckled, kissing you on the top of your head.

And as you slowly drifted off against him, warm and cared for, you realized you didn’t have to be “fine” around him at all.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep.

But with San’s warmth, the gentle hush of his breathing, and the comfort of being wrapped in both a blanket and his scent made it impossible to stay awake. When you stirred again, the room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the TV’s paused screen and the tiny lamp he must’ve turned on.

Your head still rested on his shoulder. He was running his fingers through your hair lazily, while the other lightly rested over your hip, keeping you close.

“You awake?” he murmured, voice low.

You hummed. “Kind of.”

“Good. I was beginning to think I’d be spending the night as your personal pillow.”

You blinked up at him. “You already are.”

San grinned, brushing a few hairs away from your face. “True. But I don’t mind. You look cute when you sleep.”

You groaned. “Don’t say that. I probably snored. And drooled.”

“Yup,” he teased, lips twitching. “You drooled a little right here.” He tapped his shoulder dramatically. “Marked your territory, huh?”

You whined and buried your face into his chest again. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you’re cuddled up on me like I’m your favorite body pillow.”

You swatted his side, but your heart fluttered. He knew exactly what he was doing.

After a quiet beat, he said more softly, “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay, you know.”

You glanced up.

“I know you hate feeling like a burden,” he added, rubbing your back slowly. “But taking care of you? Being here when you need me? That’s not a burden to me.”

Your throat tightened, this time not because of the cold.

“...Thank you.” you whispered.

He smiled, leaned in, and kissed your forehead gently. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. Now drink your tea, before it gets cold, then I’ll put on that dumb rom-com you secretly love.”

You laughed. “It’s not dumb.”

He gave you a look. “The guy proposes by jumping into a shark tank.”

You grinned. “It’s romantic.”

“It’s reckless.”

“Just press play, San.”

He did. And when you leaned into him again, he pulled the blanket over the both of you and held you tighter, like you were exactly where you belonged, fever and all.

𝜗𝜚

Hours passed like minutes. The movie ended and the next one started on autoplay, but you were barely paying attention. The ache in your body had dulled to something manageable, thanks to San. His warmth, his quiet attention, and the steady way he held you like you wouldn’t break, even when it felt like you might.

You were half asleep again when he gently shifted to get up.

“Where’re you going?” you murmured, voice raspy.

“I was gonna grab an extra blanket and sleep on the floor,” he said softly, glancing back at you. “Didn’t wanna crowd you.”

You frowned. “San, just… stay.”

He paused, then smiled a little. “Yeah?”

You nodded, already pulling the blanket back to let him slide under with you. He slid in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the curve of your neck.

“Better?” he murmured, his voice warm against your skin.

“Way better.”

You felt his fingers rubbing gentle circles over your stomach, soothing you back toward sleep.

“If you get me sick,” he whispered, “I’m making you make the soup next time.”

You laughed, soft and drowsy. “Deal.”

And with that, you let yourself slowly slip away to sleep, breathing in sync with the boy who loved you too much to leave, sick or not.

[wooyoungiewritings]

Borrowed Time - Seonghwa x Reader (Part 1)

Summary: Your husband of 8 years suggests an open marriage, and while he's out finding a new girlfriend, you feel like it's wrong to even glance in another man's direction. But it all changes when you download Tinder and match with Seonghwa. The man who's about to turn your world upside down. And he even happens to be your husband's boss.

Word count: 11.7K

Genre: Fluff, Rich Seonghwa, some angst, slow burn, a little smut (something almost happens, that's all I'm saying)

warnings: Seonghwa with reader (fem pronouns), crying, betrayal, dry-humping, lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

It’s been four months. Four months since you had the conversation with your husband about having an open marriage, because he wanted to try something new. The conversation is still taking up space in your mind like it was yesterday he sat you down on the couch in the house you share.

“Honey, you know I still love you,” He kept repeating after saying the possibly most shocking things you’ve ever heard. “I’m just afraid we’ll get tired of each other if we don’t try this.. We promised to be together forever, but aren’t you wondering what else is waiting for you out in the world?”

“No,” Is all you could say. A million questions run through your mind as he sits in front of you, kneeled down on his knee with your hands in his as you sit on the couch. “I married you because I want to be with you. And only you.” Your voice is shaky, trying to hold back the tears.

He notices the way you react and squeezes your hands in his.

“And I want to be with you, baby. I wanna be with you for the rest of my life, which is why I feel like this is the best we can do for now.” He tried explaining, but it didn’t help. 

“I just don’t understand? Are you not happy with me? Am I not satisfying you enough? Is it me? Am I doing something wrong?” The questions fly out of your mouth before you’re able to hold back. He quickly shakes his head, holding your hands even tighter. 

“No, no not at all. Look, I was just thinking we could do this for a year, maybe? A year where we are still married, but see other people in the meantime. When the year ends, we’ll be back to just us, and because we promised to stay together for the rest of our lives, a year won’t seem as much. This will be the only time we get to see other people for the rest of our lives, baby. It’s not a bad thing, it's only gonna strengthen our marriage in the end.” 

For some twisted reason, you saw his point. If you agreed to this, he would have a year to be with whoever he wanted, to get everything out of his system. So you agreed. You told him you agreed to do this for a year, but there had to be rules.

You had to tell the other person when you started seeing someone. No sleeping with a bunch of people, you have to tell the other person who you’re sleeping with (mostly for safety reasons). And NO one is allowed into the bedroom besides husband and wife.

And so this has been going on for four months now, and your husband is out with his girlfriend. Since this wasn’t against your deal, you couldn’t say much against it, so you just nodded and pretended to be okay. He started seeing her a week after the deal was made, a woman from his office, and the news broke your heart. He was barely home anymore, spending all of his time at her place.

The pain of hearing your husband of 8 years loving someone else was unbearable, and yet you couldn’t even get yourself to see someone else. It felt so wrong. 

It was a friday night and you’re sitting on your couch in your shared home, and your husband just left to have a weekend getaway with his girlfriend. You’re staring at the TV that has been going for hours with some bad reality TV-show, when you finally realize how sick you are of sitting home alone while your husband is out. You grab your phone and without thinking too much, you download Tinder. 

It wasn’t an app you’ve ever tried before, since your husband and you have been dating since you were teens and got married at an early age. But you quickly figured out the app and set up your profile. 

Swiping left and right on guys was more fun than you imagined, getting a few matches here and there. There were all different types of profiles on this app. Guys looking for serious relationships, guys looking for hookups, couples looking for a woman to add to their threesome. Men who opened with “hey sexy” or bios that included “I’m not looking for anything serious unless it’s with Sabrina Carpenter.”

So when his profile popped up, you hesitated.

His picture captures you immediately, and you’re taken back with his beauty. He was… breathtaking. But not in that overly filtered, red flag kind of way. There was warmth in his eyes, even in photos. A calm kind of confidence. One picture had him sitting at a piano, another laughing in the passenger seat of a car, sunlight washing over his face like it knew exactly where to land.

No shirtless mirror pics. No awkward drunk group-pictures. No fish.

“Park Seonghwa.” You read his name out loud. His bio was short. “Looking for something good. And maybe someone to watch bad TV with.”

You stared at his profile for a full two minutes before swiping right, mostly convinced it wouldn’t be a match anyway.

But then-

It’s a match!

Suddenly your heart starts to beat faster and you sit up straight on the couch while looking at your phone.

Did you just match him? Probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen?

Your stomach did a weird little flip. You waited. Twenty minutes. An hour. Maybe he wasn’t the type to message first. Maybe he matched by accident. Or maybe-...

Park Seonghwa Are you watching something awful right now? Be honest.

You look at your screen for a few seconds before reacting. A smile spreads across your lips as you open his message and type back.

Me Love Mansion: Season 6. There’s a guy crying because no one likes his magic tricks.

You quickly see the dots that indicate he’s typing.

Park Seonghwa That sounds deeply tragic. And also like something I’d binge while pretending I hate it

Me You’re one of those people? “This show is terrible” but suddenly you’ve watched 8 episodes and you know everyone’s star sign.

While you wait for his answer, you enter his profile once again. You can’t help looking at his pictures, mesmerized by how beautiful this man is. You almost get a feeling of recognition while looking at him, like you’ve seen him on a poster or in an ad or something. His profile doesn’t inform about his occupation, but you’re sure he must be showing that face off somewhere. 

A new message pops up.

Park Seonghwa: I have a spreadsheet

You laughed out loud for the first time that night.

You: So what’s your favorite actually-good movie then?

Park Seonghwa: You’re asking a very serious question to someone who owns a full set of replica lightsabers

You: Oh, so you’re very serious about it

Park Seonghwa: Yes. Star Wars. All of it. Even the prequels. Especially the prequels. I said what I said

I’m at my third Star Wars movie of the day. The movies are over two hours each, so you can imagine how eventful my day is so far

You can’t help but smile while you type out your answer. 

Me As a person who doesn’t know much about the franchise, I can’t tell you whether I’m impressed or slightly worried. Maybe I should put on a Star Wars movie and give it a chance?

An answer ticks in a few seconds later.

Park Seonghwa If you do, watch “The Last Jedi”. I just started mine, we can watch it together but separately

You don’t know how a guy you’re only a few messages deep with has you convinced this is the best way to spend your night. You decide to play the movie and message him you’re watching it too. This is the most action you’ve gotten in months, but somehow it's the perfect way to start this journey of an open-relationship. 

Maybe.

The movie begins and Seonghwa introduces some of the characters as they show up on screen. You find yourself laughing at his messages, smiling and waiting for him to text you the next thing. A feeling you haven’t felt in years, despite being married to who you’re convinced is the love of your life. But you can already tell that Seonghwa is a completely different type of guy, and for once, you actually don’t feel alone in the house you share with your husband. 

The movie ends and you’re hundreds of messages deep.

Park Seonghwa Now that we’ve concluded that “The Last Jedi” is part of an amazing franchise but not at all the best movie, I wanna admit that I’ve never looked so much at my phone during a Star Wars movie. I feel like I’m cheating on my favorite series

The text makes you giggle and you’re quick to type your answer.

Me Despite enjoying the movie, I must admit that I didn’t see half of it because I was focused on my phone. But I’ll gladly give Star Wars another chance someday

You see the text bubble appear and then go away a few times, making you curious about what he’s about to say. 

Seonghwa: We could talk about the movie over dinner tomorrow?

You stare at your screen for what feels like forever, feeling like a teenager receiving a text from her crush. This overwhelming feeling Seonghwa leaves you is something completely new, but despite it being a new and slightly scary feeling, you can’t help but feel excited. And so your fingers start typing.

Me I’d love to! After arranging your upcoming date with Seonghwa, you decide to head to bed. You’re meeting him at a restaurant in the city tomorrow, Saturday. He offered to pick you up, but you’ve seen too many horror movies to give your address to a stranger before meeting them, so you came up with an excuse to meet him there. 

You get comfortable in bed before opening his profile once again to look at his pictures.

This man… wow.

But just like before, a feeling of recognition hits you and you study his pictures a bit more. You’re sure you would remember him if you had met him, because who would forget a face like that? But it doesn’t ring a bell.. 

You open a new tab on your phone and search for his name. Perhaps he has been in a show you’ve seen on tv, maybe on a poster somewhere. There’s no way this man isn’t showing off his looks somehow. 

His name pops up on your screen.

A gasp leaves your lips and you stare at him in awe. 

It can’t be him! No no no no no… 

The name, the face, him in a suit. Everything washes over you. You throw your phone away from you and bury your face in your pillow. 

In your mind, you’re getting transported to a specific night, one year ago. Your husband has your arm in his and you’re walking side by side in your finest attire. You’re laughing at something your husband's co-worker said, when you sense a powerful presence enter the circle at the company dinner at your husband’s job.

“Oh, I want to introduce you to someone,” Your husband says as he turns you towards the newest member of the group. “My boss, Park Seonghwa.”

You stare up at him, Seonghwa slightly taller than your husband. His gaze adverts to you as he reaches out his hand. But as you give him your hand, he doesn’t do a normal handshake. He gently takes your hand in his and sends you a warm smile. Something in his eyes makes you lose all concentration, as you’re lost in his beauty. 

And then it all made sense. You’ve thought these exact thoughts before. A year ago at the company dinner and again tonight. 

Everything in your mind is going 100 m/ph and you suddenly feel confused. Does he know you’re married to his employee? Does he remember you? You’re pretty sure he doesn’t, or else he would have said something. And now you’ve arranged a date with him. 

You grab your phone again, considering if you should cancel the dinner, but something in you stops that from happening. The words don't appear in your head when you try to get out of the situation, so you delete the nonsense you’ve written so far, and decide to take things as they come. You place your phone on your night stand and get comfortable under the covers, trying your best to fall asleep.

On a couch across town, Seonghwa is still looking at his phone, looking at the text-bubbles come and go. When it doesn’t result in a text from the woman he has been texting all night, he goes to look at your profile for the 29th time tonight. 

He didn’t expect much from Tinder.

Honestly, it had been a joke. A dare, technically. His assistant downloaded it on his phone one night after too many glasses of wine at a company dinner and said, “You need to date someone who doesn’t know what your net worth is.”

So fine. He swiped. Occasionally. Mostly out of boredom, sometimes out of curiosity. Everyone started blending together. Bios full of yoga poses, forced “entrepreneur” energy, one woman who said she manifested her future husband every morning through herbal tea and moon rituals.

But then he saw you.

He found himself leaning back against the cushions, phone in hand, grinning like an idiot as your replies came in. You weren't trying to be impressive. You were just herself. And that was more magnetic than anything he’d seen in months. He didn’t even realize he’d been texting for two straight hours until his phone buzzed with a calendar notification:

Dinner with Executive Team – 9 AM monday.

He groaned. Whatever. He’d been in back-to-back meetings all week. He could allow himself one night to just… feel normal. Human.

“What’s a woman like you doing here?” he’s asking himself with a smirk, scrolling through your pictures. 

He had planned to go to bed early, have a peaceful night and get up early tomorrow, but he’s been too fascinated by the woman on the other side of the app. The tug on his lips doesn’t go away as he gets up from the couch and decides to head to bed, already accepting that he won’t get up early tomorrow. 

But one thing is for sure.

He’s very satisfied with the way his night went.

***

Saturday arrives, and you find yourself in front of the restaurant you agreed to meet Seonghwa at. You haven’t had any contact since you arranged the date, besides the check-in he made earlier today to ask if you were still down for dinner.

You feel the nerves in your body when you open the door, not having felt this feeling since you started dating your husband. The restaurant is in an area of town you usually didn’t visit - it is more expensive than you are used to. But not spending money on dates with your husband, and only cooking food for one for the past four months has resulted in you having a bit more money than you usually do, so you could go big for one night and spend some money on a good restaurant. 

The restaurant has a dark design with marble and wooden interior. The light is dimmed and you notice couples occupying tables throughout the restaurant. 

This is actually happening. You are going on a date with him.

With Seonghwa. 

It suddenly hit you and once again, you starting to doubt if this was a good idea. You have come to the point where you wanted to date, but dating your husband’s boss seems like the next level. Will your husband be okay with this? Will Seonghwa be okay with this?

Suddenly feeling like your legs are about to give out, you turn around to head outside but you are instead met with a human wall. A set of hands grab your waist to steady you, making sure you won’t fall by the sudden collision. 

“Running away already?” The voice asks, darker than you remember but also soft with a small tease. You look up to see Seonghwa’s soft eyes, slightly covered by some dark pieces of hair. Being a few inches from his face, you can’t help but freeze to study how absolutely amazing he looks up close. 

His almost black eyes, bushy brows, how his upper lip looks slightly bigger than the other, the most perfect nose you’ve ever seen.. Everything is too perfect, you don't know how to react. 

The sudden realization that his hands are on your waist wakes you up, and you stand back up straight to take a step away from him and his undeniably stunning face. 

“Uhm, no I.. I mean, I- no. I didn’t..” Your struggle with words makes him chuckle and he seems to brush off your awkward first meeting quicker than you. 

“How about we find our table?” He asks with a smile, placing his hand on your back to lead you further into the restaurant. 

“Mh-hmm.” Is all you manage to get out, wanting to kick yourself in the head for almost walking out on this man. 

The restaurant is a rooftop spot. Quiet, upscale, city lights spilling in through the glass walls. A jazz trio played somewhere in the background, subtle and elegant. The staff seem to know him, your table is ready immediately, tucked in a quiet corner with a view of the city lights. He orders a bottle of wine without looking at the menu, his tone smooth and confident, and then turn all his attention to you.

“Tell me something,” he says, resting his chin on his hand, “How have you lived your entire life and last night was the first time you watched a Star Wars movie?”

You blink at him. “You start with the hard questions?”

He smile. “I like to skip the small talk.”

You giggle. And from there, the conversation goes rather smoothly. Then easier as the wine warms your chest and his eyes never stop watching you like you were the most interesting person in the world. He asks thoughtful questions. He doesn’t talk about himself unless you ask. And when you do, he’s vague, says he works in business, likes privacy, that his life isn’t all that exciting.

Which is a lie, you are sure.

This man radiates luxury. His watch alone could pay for your college loans, and he never once checked it. And then somewhere between the wine and the main course, it starts to gnaw at you. The weight of the secret you’re keeping. Or at least… the one you thought is yours alone.

You clear your throat, reaching for your glass again even though you didn’t really want another sip.

“I should tell you something.”

He tilts his head. “Are you okay?” he senses the way your behavior changes and tries meeting your eyes.

“Yeah,” your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes, too nervous to break the truth that you know this man in front of you. “Or.. I don’t know, no, yes-no..” Your heart is beating fast. “Look, I’m sorry, but I feel like I have to be honest with you. I don’t want you to waste your time sitting here, and if you don’t feel comfortable after receiving this information I totally understand, so if you’re freaked out we can pretend this never happened and I won’t-..”

“Look,” Seonghwa places his hand over yours, totally calm, meeting your eyes. “Did you kill someone?”

“No!” You try keeping your voice down. Try.

“Do you need me to hide a body?”

“No!?”

“... Are we related?”

You tilt your head “No? I hope not…?”

“Then we’re good. I won’t be freaked out.” He shrugs, leans slightly back in his seat and sends you a smile as he picks up his glass.

You look at him, really look, and then just say it.

“You’re my husband’s boss.”

A beat. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. Just blinked once, slowly.

“Is that so?” he asked softly.

“I figured it out when I looked you up after we matched. I wasn’t… trying to snoop, I swear, I just got curious. And then I remembered you from the company dinner last year. Anyway, I wanted to say something in case it made this… weird for you.”

He smiles gently, setting down his glass. “It doesn’t.”

You blink. “Really?”

“I knew who you were the moment I saw your profile.”

Your stomach drops. “Oh.”

“But I still swiped right,” he adds, voice low, calm. “And I still wanted to meet you.”

“…Why?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at you for a moment, and something in his gaze makes your skin heat. “Because I wanted the honor of inviting you out for dinner.” he says.

Your breath catches. You don’t know what to say to that, so you stay quiet, letting the words sit between you like warm embers.

“And now that we’re being honest,” he continues gently, “That little thing on your finger.” He points to the gold band with a small diamond around your finger, proving to everyone, including yourself, that you’re still in a marriage.

You give a small, helpless laugh. “Oh.. Yeah, it’s not what it looks like. Or maybe it is? I don’t think so, actually, I don’t know what this looks like, but I’m not doing anything I’m not supposed to do-...”

“You don’t have to explain anything,” he says.

“No, I want to,” you reply, surprising yourself. “I need to.”

So you tell him. About the open marriage your husband suggested. About how you agreed, naively thinking it would be equal. About how he’d found someone in a matter of weeks while you’d sat at home, trying to convince yourself you weren’t just waiting. You watch Seonghwa carefully for a reaction. There is none, no judgment, no discomfort. Just a quiet focus that made you feel safer than you’d felt in months.

“But it’s actually a really good idea. I mean, we get the chance to see other people and do whatever we want, so we won’t cheat on each other later on,” you shrug, looking down at the wineglass instead of the piercing eyes in front of you. “It’s preventing us from hurting the other person in the end.” you say, finally. 

He sits quiet, just taking in your words. You can’t read his eyes, he just listens. But you don’t feel judged by the man in front of you. His eyes show too much warmth for you to be intimidated. 

“I don’t understand.” he finally says. 

“You know, if we date other people now, we won’t feel the need to do so in the future.” 

“No, I heard every word you said loud and clear,” he leaned forward in his chair, voice still soft. “I just don’t understand why he would need to.. you know.. date others when he has you.” 

Seonghwa was trying his best to not push. He could easily have said “I mean, if I was your husband, I wouldn’t want to see other people. I wouldn’t ever want another woman.” but he is still in the stage of getting to know you, doesn’t want to scare you away, and despite remembering you from the company dinner last year, he only remembers what impression you left him. A quick introduction and laughs shared in a circle of multiple people, but somehow his eyes kept drifting to you.

Your laugh, your dress, the way your eyes sparkled under the lights. It had stayed with Seonghwa for a year, so when he saw your profile on a dating app, he knew he had to shoot his shot. Unaware of what the circumstances are between you and your husband. 

But he doesn’t ask for more explanation. Instead, he shifts the conversation, just slightly, easing it toward lighter things, books, music, how you both secretly hate networking events.

And somehow, the night never felt heavy again. When dessert comes, some delicate French pastry you can’t pronounce, he insists you try the first bite. When your laugh returns, brighter this time, he smiles like that was the reward he’s been waiting for.

Later, as he walks you to your ride, you feel lighter. Like maybe it was okay to want something new. Someone new.

“I still want to see you again,” he says, standing beside the car door. His hand brushes your wrist, soft and brief. “If you want that too.”

You nod.

“I do.”

He opens the door for you, then leans down just enough to meet your eyes.

“Then let’s take our time.”

In the cab on the way home, you can’t stop smiling. You haven’t even finished closing the door behind you before your phone buzz.

Seonghwa: Text me when you’re home safe, yeah? No pressure, just want to know you’re good.

You smile into the hallway light. God, he’s that kind of man. You kick off your heels, phone still in hand, fingers already typing back.

You: Home. Warm. A little wine-dizzy but safe. Thank you for dinner.

Seonghwa: Thank you for giving me a chance. Sleep well xx

You sit on the edge of your bed for a moment longer than necessary, phone against your chest, still fully dressed. The night felt soft around the edges, like it wasn’t quite real. Like maybe you’d dreamed it. His smile, the way he listens to you like your words matter, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the room.

And he knows. That was the wild part. He knows you’re married, to his employee, no less, and he still treats you with more care and curiosity than your own husband had in months. You let yourself fall back into bed, fully clothed, staring up at the ceiling with the ghost of his cologne still caught in your hair.

***

On this incredibly boring Monday, the rain started halfway through your meeting, and by the time you stepped outside, it had gone from a gentle drizzle to a full-on, cinematic downpour. You stand beneath the awning outside your building, arms crossed, watching as the other employees disappeared into warm cars and dry seats.

Your husband was supposed to pick you up. You agreed to that last week, so you texted him before you left, but no response. Not a word. That was twenty-five minutes ago. 

Your fingers tightens around your phone as you glance down the street for the fifth time. Just water streaking down your coat sleeve and your phone screen lighting up.

Not from him.

But from Seonghwa.

Seonghwa I debated texting you for ten minutes. This is me giving in. Hi.

You smile immediately, shoulders relaxing under your scarf as you type back.

You Ten minutes? I’m flattered. 

Three dots. Then:

Seonghwa Are you still at work or did you escape?

You exhale slowly, already smiling before your fingers move to reply.

You Currently trying to escape. But I’m waterlogged and standing under a leaky bus shelter.

A pause.

Seonghwa Do I want to know why you’re waiting for a bus in a rainstorm?

You hesitate. Not because you don’t want to tell him, but because you did. And that felt… a little dangerous. But you type anyway.

You Husband said he’d pick me up after work. Then forgot.

You don’t know the reason why your husband didn’t pick you up today. But it was not the first time this has happened. Last time he was busy hanging out with his girlfriend, having his phone on silent. 

Three dots danced at the bottom of the screen for a long moment before his reply came in:

Seonghwa Tell me where you are

You don’t answer right away. Another bus pass, wrong line again, and your fingers ache from the cold.

You Seonghwa. I’m fine. It’s just a little rain

Seonghwa Sure. And I’m a little meteorologist. Tell me where you are

You bite your lip, watching as a bus rumbled past - not yours. 

You Seventh and Willow. But you don’t have to, it’s okay

Seonghwa I’m already in my car. Don’t argue with me while you’re catching pneumonia

Your lips curve in spite of yourself. You pulled your scarf tighter.

Seonghwa On my way. Five minutes. Don’t wander off or find a mysterious love interest in a bookstore while I’m driving

You spotted his car before you saw him.

It turns the corner slowly, headlights washing across the slick pavement, wipers dragging across the windshield in a steady rhythm. The passenger window rolls down just enough for him to lean towards it.

“Hey, get in,” he says, his tone easy and unaffected by the weather. “You look like you’ve been here a while.” 

You step forward, your boots making soft splashes in the puddles, and slide into the passenger seat. The warmth of the car is immediate, and you exhale, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders. The car hums quietly as Seonghwa drives through the rain-slicked streets. He’s keeping his eyes on the road, but every now and then, his gaze flickers over to you, the small, concerned crease in his brow visible in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice steady but soft. He’s not pushing, just checking in.

You nod, brushing your damp hair back and glancing out the window. The cold air from the rain has soaked through your coat, and your clothes cling to you uncomfortably. The heater in the car is doing its best, but you can still feel the chill.

“I’m fine,” you say, though your voice sounds a little too quiet. “Just... a little wet. Didn’t expect next time you’d see me, to be me looking like this.”

Seonghwa doesn't respond right away, but you catch the small shift in his demeanor, a brief, thoughtful silence. His hands grip the steering wheel lightly as he drives through the darkened streets, navigating without hurry.

“Do you want to stop somewhere?” he asks, keeping his tone casual, though you can sense the care behind it. “Grab something warm?”

You think about it for a second. A warm drink, maybe a cozy corner of some café, those were things you used to enjoy. But the idea of sitting in a café, dripping wet and freezing, doesn’t feel right tonight. It feels… forced. You want warmth, sure, but not from the outside world.

You glance at him, then back at the road ahead.

“Actually,” you start, “could we just... go to your place?” your words surprising yourself. “If it’s not too much, of course.”

Seonghwa blinks, a soft smile curling at the corner of his lips, but he doesn't ask any questions. Instead, he simply nods, his gaze shifting back to the road as the corners of his mouth deepen into a fond, knowing expression.

“You sure?” he asks, voice low. “I mean... you’ve had a long day. You’re drenched.”

You shrug, even though a small part of you is shocked by your own words. "I’m fine. I’m not in the mood for a date-date or whatever. Just... somewhere warm. And I don’t wanna be alone tonight. If you don’t mind.”

The silence between you two feels more comfortable now, the tension from the earlier moments gone. It’s like a weight has lifted, neither of you needs to pretend anymore.

“Alright,” he says, his voice warm, “to my place it is.” The car turns into a quieter street, and Seonghwa taps his fingers lightly against the steering wheel, his smile still lingering.

When you step out of the car and into the rain, Seonghwa’s hand briefly touches the small of your back, guiding you toward the building. The touch is gentle and reassuring.

His apartment is warmer than you expected when you step inside. It’s spacious, sure, but it’s not the cold, intimidating type of wealth you might expect from someone like him. It’s cozy in a way that’s unexpected, like he’s curated it with care, each little thing in its place. You can tell he’s put thought into making this space a refuge, a place of comfort. 

“I can grab you a towel,” Seonghwa offers immediately, his voice soft. He’s already moving toward the bathroom, but when you shake your head, he pauses. “Are you sure? I’d feel better if you changed into something comfortable.”

You glance down at yourself, feeling how soaked your clothes are, and how tired you are of pretending like you don’t need help. You nod. “That would be nice, actually.”

He smiles, but it’s not a proud smile. It’s the kind of smile that makes you feel like he’s quietly relieved, like he wants to take care of you in a way you didn’t realize you needed. “I have a few shirts you can borrow,” he says, a hint of hesitation in his tone. “Nothing fancy, just... dry.”

You watch him for a moment, the way he’s trying to gauge your comfort level without pushing too hard. It’s the first time you’ve seen him unsure of anything, and it’s a little disarming.

“That sounds perfect,” you say, giving him a small, appreciative smile.

He moves quickly, purposefully, heart thudding a little harder than usual. Not from nerves, but from quiet anger. Who forgets to pick up their wife in the middle of a downpour? He doesn’t let the frustration show on his face. He just breathes through it, reminding himself that this moment isn’t about him. It’s about making you comfortable. It’s about undoing a little bit of whatever damage your husband didn’t think twice about causing.

He returns with a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. A soft, worn-in tee, and hands it to you. The fabric is warm to the touch, and it smells faintly of him. He doesn’t linger too long, but there’s something in the way he carefully places it in your hands that makes you feel safe, like he genuinely wants you to be okay, not just physically, but emotionally too.

“Take your time,” he says softly, backing away. He nods toward the hallway. “Bathroom’s down to the left. I’ll make some tea. You’ll feel better.”

It’s a simple offer, like he’s willing to offer you warmth without making you feel indebted to him. When you disappear into the bathroom to change, you can hear him bustling around in the kitchen. You take a deep breath and let yourself relax for the first time in what feels like forever.

When you return, towel-drying your hair with one of the fluffy hand towels he left out for you, you’re practically swallowed in his clothes. The shirt hangs loose over your frame, the waistband of the sweatpants tied tight around your hips. You’ve never felt so ridiculous and so safe all at once.

Seonghwa looks up from the kitchen and immediately gives you that soft, amused smile. “Okay, that’s a look.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Stylish, right? You might not get these back.”

“I was just about to say they suit you,” he replies, not missing a beat.

You laugh, and it’s small, but real, and it makes something warm twist in his chest. He’s pacing, sleeves pushed up as he moves easily around the kitchen. A kettle is on, two mugs already waiting. You catch the scent of honey and ginger in the air, something warm and slightly sweet.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you murmur, padding into the kitchen and wrapping your arms around yourself.

He glances up from stirring the honey. “You’re cold. You’re tired. I want to.” Then, with a softer voice: “Let me take care of you. Just a little.”

That shouldn’t make your stomach flutter the way it does.

You sit at the counter, fingers curling around the mug he places in front of you. You’re so used to handling everything on your own that this small act of care feels like a luxury.

He leans against the counter opposite you, arms crossed casually, like he’s trying to keep a respectful distance. But he can’t help stealing glances at you. Not hungry, not suggestive, just thoughtful. Quietly admiring.

“You’ve had a long day,” he says after a pause, not prying. “Want to talk about it?”

You shake your head, sipping your tea. “Not really.”

“That’s okay,” he says immediately. “We can just sit.”

No questions. No expectations. He wouldn’t make you relive any of it. Not the rain, not the waiting, not the part where someone was supposed to show up and didn’t.

You let a little smile play at the edge of your lips. “You’re... very good at this.”

“At what?”

“Being comforting. It’s like you have a degree in it or something.”

Seonghwa chuckles, eyes crinkling just a little. “I’m just treating you how I think you deserve to be treated.”

He means it.

He means it.

You set your mug down. “You don’t even know me.”

Seonghwa smiles, not missing a beat. “I’m working on it.”

He leans slightly on the counter, arms still crossed, eyes steady on yours. “But I’ve picked up a few things. You’re the kind of person who checks in on others even when you’re the one having a bad day. You’re a little stubborn when it comes to letting people take care of you - you want to do things yourself. And when you’re tired, you get kind of funny. Like, weirdly funny.”

You laugh under your breath, and so does he.

“And tonight?” His smile softens. “You needed someone. I was close by. That’s all it takes.” There’s no hidden meaning in his voice. No pressure. Just the kind of honesty you’re not used to from a man.

You meet his eyes, and there it is. The kind of tension that doesn’t scream or flirt, it just hums. You glance around his kitchen. The wooden cabinets, the tiny potted herb garden on the windowsill, the slightly chipped mug in front of you. “Your place… it’s not what I expected.”

“Let me guess,” he teases, “you thought it’d be floor-to-ceiling glass, steel counters, and an automatic espresso machine?”

“Something like that.”

He grins. “I like homes that feel lived in. I don’t like that cold, overly-modern stuff. I like that I can comfortably show off my collection of magnets without having to worry if it fits in with the rest of the home.” He points to his fridge and you notice the huge collection of magnets. You let out a soft giggle.

You like that answer too much. You shouldn’t, but you do.

“I like it,” you say softly, not just about the apartment. The warm cup rests between your palms, grounding you, and Seonghwa leans back against the counter beside you, sipping his own. Then, without a word, he sets his mug down and starts rummaging through a cabinet.

You squint at him. “What are you doing?”

He glances over his shoulder with a small, almost mischievous smile. “We’re making cookies.”

You blink. “We are?”

“We are now,” he says simply, already pulling out a bag of flour.

You let out a soft laugh and step up beside him. You don’t ask if he needs help. You just join in. And he doesn’t say anything, just gives you a smile so gentle. Ten minutes later, the kitchen is a disaster.

The butter refuses to cooperate, slipping through your fingers and plopping to the floor. You try again, and this time it sticks to your hands so stubbornly that Seonghwa has to come to your rescue, giggling as he wipes it off with a spatula.

“Here,” he says, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Let’s try that again.” 

You giggle, brushing hair out of your face. “I swear, never make cookies.” 

“Oh, I can tell,” he teases, but there’s no judgment in his tone, only encouragement. “It’s okay. It’s the thought that counts.”

Later, flour explodes from the bag as it’s accidentally knocked over. It snows down across the counter, your arms, his shirt. You both freeze, and then burst into laughter. A moment later, the chocolate chips spill, scattering everywhere. 

Eventually, you both give up, the half-mixed dough resting lopsided in the bowl. You sat on the counter, legs swinging slightly as Seonghwa stood beside you. The bowl rests on your lap as he hands you a spoonful of raw dough, and you take it without hesitation.

“I think we killed it.” Seonghwa says proudly, scooping up some cookie dough for himself, using the same spoon.

“This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” you say around a mouthful. You sit side by side in the wreckage of flour and chocolate chips, warm tea forgotten, sharing bites of something that didn’t quite turn out the way it was supposed to, but still feels like a win.

You’re mid-laugh when he pauses, his eyes softening as they settle on you. Without a word, he steps a little closer, and his hand lifts. Gentle and careful.

“There’s a little…” he murmurs, brushing his fingers just above your eyebrow, where a streak of flour has settled. His thumb grazes your skin as he wipes it away, but he doesn’t pull back right away.

His touch lingers.

You feel it all the way down to your spine. His warmth, the closeness, the way his eyes briefly drop to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The air feels thick, like something unsaid is pressing at the edges of the moment. 

“Got it,” he says quietly. But he doesn’t move. And neither do you.

You’re still perched on the counter, his body angled toward yours, only a breath between you. He leans in slightly, gaze dropping again, first to your lips, then back up to your eyes, like he’s asking without words.

You lean in too.

Your knees bump against his hips, and your breath catches, held in your chest like it’s afraid to break the moment. His hands finds the counter next to you, grounding him, pulling him even closer. So close you can count every faint freckle on his skin. So close his breath hits your cheek.

And your phone rings.

Loud. Sharp. Invasive.

You freeze.

The moment shatters like glass.

Seonghwa pulls back slowly, but his hand stays on the counter near you, and he doesn’t turn away. Your phone rings again, and your eyes flick to the screen.

“Husband.”

You swallow hard, something sinking in your chest. Seonghwa doesn't say anything. He just watches, his expression soft but unreadable, and steps back enough to give you space. Not far, just enough. You hesitate for half a second. Then you slide off the counter, still warm from where your knees had brushed against him, and answer.

“Hello?” Your voice is thinner than you meant it to be.

He turns away, not out of anger, not even disappointment, just… quiet. Respectful. Still the same steady, gentle man, already reaching for the dish towel to start wiping flour from the counter like he’s giving you time. Giving you privacy.

But the warmth between you hasn’t disappeared.

It just simmers now, quiet and unsaid. Still there. Still waiting.

You murmur a few short replies into the phone, keeping your tone neutral. You hang up a moment later, your fingers still loosely wrapped around the device, like you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Seonghwa glances at you, not questioning, not pressing. Just that same soft-eyed look, like he sees everything without needing it explained.

You clear your throat and set the phone down on the far end of the counter. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” His voice is quiet. He offers you the tiniest smile. “You didn’t miss much. The cookie dough was starting to melt anyway.”

You laugh under your breath, and he smiles a little wider.

“I should… probably get going soon,” you say.

“Yeah.” He nods slowly, “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride.”

You change into your old clothes, now warm and dry after Seonghwa took care of it. You finish tying your shoes and glance up at him. His movements are calm, deliberate, like he’s giving you space to process, to gather yourself. His gentleness is almost too much to handle right now, and you wonder if he knows how much he’s doing, just being there. Just being himself.

The drive back to your place is calm, the city lights flickering by as Seonghwa keeps his focus on the road, his hand steady on the wheel. Every now and then, his eyes flicker toward you, like he’s checking, making sure you’re okay. 

When he finally pulls up to your house, you hesitate for a second before opening the door. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, “You really made my day.” and finally, and he offers you that smile of his. It’s small, but it reaches his eyes. 

“Anytime,” he replies softly, as if there’s no question.

You step out of the car, the door closing behind you with a soft click. You stand there for a moment, watching his headlights fade into the distance, a quiet warmth settling in your chest.

***

A week has passed since that night. The one where everything had almost felt like it could change. The small, sweet moments that lingered in the kitchen, the silent tension, and that quiet brush of his fingers against your face. But you hadn’t really spoken much after that.

Seonghwa had been giving you space. He never pressed, never pushed, just sent a message here and there, something light, something simple. Asking how your day was, letting you know he was there if you needed to talk. It was as though he understood the weight on your shoulders, the things you were still trying to process, and he respected that.

You’d found comfort in those texts. They were a gentle reminder that there was still kindness out there, that not all men were careless or indifferent. But you hadn’t been ready to dive into anything more. Not yet.

So you let the days pass, lost in work and the usual noise of life, where everything felt like it was moving forward and standing still all at once.

When you walk into the house that evening, expecting to be alone, the air feels too still. Almost oppressive. You take off your shoes, drop your bag, and then, suddenly, you hear it.

Moans.

Loud and unmistakable.

Your heart skips a beat. The noise comes from the bedroom.

You freeze, panic washes over you in a way you never thought you’d feel. The reality hits harder than a slap, and before your mind can catch up to your body, your feet are already moving, silent, quick, out the door.

Your husband. With her.

The woman he’d been seeing for months. The one you knew about. From his work. The one he swore wouldn’t ever step foot in your bedroom.

But she had. They had.

The rules didn’t matter now.

You can barely remember how you made it out of the house, your heart pounding like it’s trying to escape your ribs. You don’t stop to think. You just grab your coat and rush outside, the cold air stinging your cheeks. You get on the bus, not thinking clearly or caring about anything other than getting away.

Away to the last place that felt safe.

Seonghwa opens the door looking completely confused in a loose hoodie and gray sweatpants, as if he’s been lounging or about to sleep. His hair is slightly tousled, his face soft with surprise, but when he sees you standing there, shaking and crying, everything about him changes.

His eyes widens, his body tensing as if his instincts slammed into overdrive.

“Hey-..hey, what’s going on?” His voice cracks a little, pure concern bleeding through. “Are you-, are you okay? What happened?” He barely waits for an answer before stepping forward, one hand reaching out like he’s afraid to startle you, the other already pulling the door wider. “Come in. Come here. Please.”

You don’t even remember how you’d made it to his place. You didn’t call, didn’t text, didn’t even know where else to go. You are just… there. Your legs moved on their own. He gently takes your wrist, guiding you inside like he thought you might fall apart if he let go. And maybe you would.

“I-I didn’t know where else to go,” you whisper, your voice trembling so much the words barely came out. “I walked in and they were… in the bedroom. Our bedroom. I heard her, and him-”

Your breath hitched. The shame, the heartbreak, the betrayal all crashed into you again like a tidal wave. Seonghwa freeze, his face shifting from confusion to something like disbelief, followed by an ache so deep it flickered across his features before he could hide it.

“You’re shaking,” he breathes, like that was the only thing he could focus on to keep himself from doing something rash. “Gosh-, come here.”

Then he pulls you in. Not tentative. Not gentle like before. But firm. Warm. Protective. His arms wrap around you completely, hands cradling the back of your head, the middle of your back, holding you like he was trying to piece you back together with just his embrace.

You broke.

The sob that escaped you was raw, tearing through your chest as you collapsed against him. His hoodie quickly dampened with your tears, but he didn’t care. He only held you tighter.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into your hair, over and over again, his voice thick, arms unyielding. “I’m so sorry. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you.”

A few hours passed. The silence of the apartment is heavy, and the soft hum of the city outside filters in through the windows, but none of it seems to matter. Seonghwa sits on the edge of the couch, his gaze fixed on you as you sleep, curled up with a blanket around you. Seonghwa didn’t move you. He wouldn’t dare. Your face is peaceful now, but he knows, he saw the remnants of the tears still streaked on your cheeks.

He watches you for a long moment, longer than he should have, just to be sure you were breathing easy, that your face wasn’t tight with the pain you’d carried in. He adjust the blanket around your shoulders once more, fingers brushing your arm like a silent promise: I’m here.

Then he slips away into the kitchen.

The lights are dim. He doesn’t turn on the overheads. Only the small one above the sink cast a quiet glow, painting gold over the counter and the delicate steam curling from the mug of tea he never ended up drinking.

He cleans slowly. Methodically. Not because there is much to clean, but because he needs to do something with his hands. He needs to focus on anything but the image of you curled on his couch with your cheeks still damp from crying. Something about seeing you so hurt, so vulnerable in his home, keeps his chest tight and his thoughts moving. He wants to be nearby, just in case you wake up and need him. 

He didn’t know what to do when you broke. His instinct was to hold you, to gather you up and shelter you from everything, but he’d hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to. God, he wanted to, but because he didn’t know if it was what you needed.

You are still married. Still healing. Still so fragile it makes his chest ache.

And yet, he can’t stop thinking about how you came here. To him. Not a friend. Not a hotel. Him.

What did that mean?

What could it mean?

He’s still standing at the sink, drying his hands on a dish towel, when he hears the soft shuffle of your footsteps behind him. You’re quiet, hesitant, still wearing the same clothes from earlier. Sleep clinging to your features, eyes puffy, hair slightly mussed, your voice rough when you speak.

“Seonghwa?”

He turns once.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, barely looking at him. “For just… showing up. For staying. I didn’t mean to take up your whole night.”

Seonghwa sets the tea towel down gently and shakes his head “You didn’t take anything,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You look at him, startled by how easily he says it, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like there was nowhere else he’d rather have you.

“I feel ridiculous,” you say quietly, fingers curling around the edge of the counter. “Showing up here. Crying like that. Falling asleep like a mess on your couch.”

Seonghwa looks up from the sink where he’s rinsing a cup, then reaches for the towel draped nearby to dry it. He moves slowly, deliberately, as if not to startle you. “You’re not a mess,” he says. “You’re human. And tonight was… a lot. You shouldn’t have had to hear that. Especially not in your own home.”

You nod once, lips press tight, your eyes tracing the pattern of the granite countertop.

“I guess I just didn’t expect it to hurt like that,” you whisper. “I agreed to this open marriage, I knew what it meant. All he had to do was follow the simple rules we made; let the other person know when you’re dating someone and don’t bring them into the bedroom. But hearing them like that… it was like everything I’d been pretending not to feel came crashing in.”

He steps a little closer, still drying the mug but slowing as he listens.

You look up at him then, eyes glassy. “I didn’t mean to bring it all here.”

“You didn’t bring anything but yourself,” he says, voice softer now. “And for what it’s worth… I’m glad you came. I’ve only seen you a few times, but I-” He hesitated, then smiled faintly, “I wouldn’t have wanted you to go anywhere else tonight.”

Your chest tightens. Something in his words, his expression, the way he stands there drying a cup like it was the only way he can keep his hands from holding you.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” he adds, glancing down at the towel in his hand, placing the cup on the counter. “But when I saw you at my door, I didn’t feel interrupted. I felt relieved.” he huffs a quiet breath, laughing under it, ”I didn’t want anyone else to be the one you went to. Is that selfish? Maybe. But—”

He didn’t get to finish.

The towel was halfway folded in his hands when you moved.

Three fast steps.

Your fingers gripped the front of his shirt, pulled him down before he could process what was happening, and you kissed him.

Hard. Needy. Quietly desperate.

You needed to. You needed to feel if this was more than just you feeling crazy. Could you really find safety in someone who isn’t your husband? How could this man you’ve met 3 times the past two weeks, be the most thoughtful and supportive person in your life at the moment?

The towel slips from his hand, landing forgotten on the kitchen floor. He kisses you back like it’s the most natural thing in the world, hands finding your cheeks, pulling you close without hesitation. The warmth of him spreads through you instantly, grounding, solid, safe.

You don’t speak.

Neither does he.

Not until the kiss breaks, just enough for breath.

“I…” you whisper, suddenly unsure.

He smiles, gently, almost in disbelief. “You caught me off guard.” He’s smiling, eyes warm, his thumb brushing your side like he can’t stop touching you now that he’s started. 

“I don’t know why I did that,” you whisper, nervous now, terrified he might say it was too soon. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’m really glad you did it.” His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with hunger, and you can feel the weight of his desire pressing against you, but there was hesitation, just a flicker of it.

You mumble the words, barely loud enough for either of you to hear. “Is this... too fast?”

A beat passed. Then another. 

“No,” he says softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Not if it’s you. Not if you’re the one reaching for me.”

Your breath catches, the lump in your throat returning. Not from grief this time, but from something gentler. Something like hope. 

“You set the pace. I’ll follow.”

And he means it. Every word.

You reach for him again, pulling him in. The kiss is firmer this time, your lips claiming his with more urgency, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt as if you couldn’t get close enough. He groans into your mouth, his hands tightening around your waist, as if holding you in place is the only thing keeping him from losing control.

Your hands slid by the hem of his shirt, fingertips barely grazing over his warm skin, and you feel him tense beneath your touch. His breath hitches, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Fuck,” he rasp. “I’m barely holding on.”

“Good,” you whisper, and lean up to kiss him again.

His hands are on your waist, his grip tight, but there is still a slight hesitation in him. It’s as if he was torn between wanting to be the good guy, wanting to respect your boundaries, and the overwhelming, suffocating need to give in to everything you’re offering. His lips meet yours again, deeper this time, and the kiss is frantic, hungry, as though he can’t get close enough, can’t touch you enough.

You barely register your back hitting the edge of the kitchen island until his hands curl under your thighs and lift you effortlessly. You gasp, startled by the sudden motion, but his strength… the ease of it, the way he settles you gently onto the counter like you’re precious, it makes you shiver.

You wrap your legs around his hips instantly, locking your heels at the small of his back, and it pushes him in deeper, his length perfectly aligned with the ache between your legs.

The moment your bodies aligned, you both gasped.

You feel him.

Thick and full and undeniably hard, straining against the soft gray fabric of his sweatpants. He’s pressed right against your center, the outline of him so vivid you can practically trace it with your eyes.

You gasp. He curses. 

“I can see you,” you whisper, voice wrecked, eyes flicking down to where his sweatpants clung to him, every thick inch outlined and throbbing. “You’re so hard.”

He lets out a strangled groan. “Don’t say that. Don’t fucking say that-”

You can't help but grind once against his member, and you whimper as his hips rolled forward, slow and deep. His cock drags up the seam of your heat, the head catching perfectly where your clit throbs. It’s too much and not enough. The layers between you only made it worse.

He feels you. Wet, warm, pressed against the inside of your panties, where your thin leggings clings like a second skin, doing nothing to hide how badly you want him. His mouth crashes onto yours, and it was different this time, no hesitation, no restraint. Just teeth and tongue and desperation. Your hands were in his hair now, tugging, dragging him closer. He presses against you, hard enough to make you moan, and God, you feel him, thick, hard, straining against his pants.

But something occupies your mind.

“Wait,” You keep your legs wrapped around him. You don’t let go. Immediately, he stills. His breathing ragging, chest rising and falling against yours. His hands are warm on your thighs where they rest, thumbs rubbing soft, slow circles into your skin like he’s grounding you. His forehead presses gently against yours, both of you still catching your breath. 

“I want to,” you admitted, your voice wrecked. “So bad. But I need… I need to say it first. To him.”

Him. Your Husband.

For the first time in months, you hated that your husband was in your mind right now. 

His gaze lifts to yours instantly, and for a second, you brace yourself for disappointment. But it never comes.

He nods. “I know,” he pulls back and kisses your forehead. “Just because he broke your rules does not mean you should do it too.” He’s way quicker to understand than you’ve ever imagined. He’s too good.

“I’m sorry… I really want to.” You say, finding his eyes. “But I feel like I have to tell him that I’m seeing someone, let alone his boss, before I do something.”

“Hey,” he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin, the warmest eyes you’ve ever met. “You don’t have to explain, I totally understand.”

You try smiling but it doesn't quite reach your eyes. “It’s not you. I’m just not in the right headspace, and if we did this right now, I think I’d just… think too much. Regret it. Not because of you! But because of everything else.”

“I know,” he says gently, brushing your hair back with a touch that’s nothing short of reverent. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. If you want to do this or not. Whatever you end up deciding, I’ll respect. But if you decide you want to do this, with me sometime, I don’t want you to feel any pressure. I’m not going anywhere, I’ll wait for you.”

And God. That. That is the thing. He isn’t demanding. He isn’t jealous. He isn’t angry or annoyed or trying to guilt you into a decision.

He just understand.

“You’re kind,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You’re really fucking kind.” 

A silence fills the space between you, your gaze dropping down to where your bodies meet. You look up at him, cheeks flushed. “If I hadn’t said stop… would you have?”

His eyes darkens. He smile, not cocky. But honest.

“Not a chance in hell.” The weight behind those words makes your chest ache. “Can I do anything for you?” 

You glance down at yourself, then let out a soft, embarrassed laugh. “I probably need a shower. I look like someone who lost a fight to her own life.”

He grins at that, easing back just enough to slide his hands to your waist. Before you can say another word, he’s lifting you down from the counter with a firm but gentle grip, like you’re something precious, and threading his fingers through yours.

“Come on,” he murmurs, tugging you softly. “Shower. I’ll get everything ready.”

You trail behind him to the bathroom, your hand still tucked in his. He moves around the space with practiced ease, grabbing towels, adjusting the water, and even laying out the same sweatpants and oversized t-shirt you wore the last time you were here.

When he places them carefully on the counter, he gives you one last glance, warm and soft. “Take your time, your clothes are on the counter. I’ll be in the living room when you’re done.”

You nod, suddenly overwhelmed in a completely different way. “Seonghwa?”

He pauses in the doorway, looking back at you.

“Thank you. For… not making this weird.”

His smile is soft, patient. “It’s not weird. It’s okay.”

A few minutes later, you’re still in his bathroom, the warmth of the steam and the quiet hum of the fan giving you a moment to breathe. To be alone and let the water rinse some of it away. Not the pain of today, but the weight of it, just for a moment.

You change into the familiar sweatpants and soft T-shirt he left folded neatly by the sink. They still smell like him. When you open the door again, the hallway’s dim, and the softest light glows from the living room. 

He’s sitting on the couch, one arm resting over the back, a blanket already draped across the cushions, like he’s been preparing your little corner of the world for you. 

“Perfect timing,” he says, patting the space beside him with a grin that’s equal parts teasing and gentle. “I was about to start a movie without you and pretend I didn’t.”

You laugh, your heart lighter already. And as you cross the room and curl into his side beneath the blanket, it’s not the movie that matters. It’s the feeling that you’re safe here, with him.

And for the first time in a long time, that’s more than enough.

***

The boardroom is quiet when Seonghwa walks in the next day.

He’s always early, by design. It gives him time to breathe, to set the tone, to sit at the head of the glass table with everything already in place. His laptop is open, a black pen lined up perfectly beside his notepad, and his eyes skim the agenda, though he already knows it. But his focus isn’t on the day’s schedule.

Not yet.

It’s still on you.

Not the way you looked when you walked into his apartment yesterday. Exhausted, crying, your whole body weighed down by things you hadn’t said yet, but the way you looked curled up against him hours later, asleep on his couch, tucked into his side beneath a blanket like you’d always belonged there.

You had cried. You had kissed him. You had let him hold you. He’d kissed the crown of your head.

And he didn’t sleep much that night.

Not because you didn’t let him, if anything, you were warm and quiet, breathing slow against him. It was the way you felt in his arms that kept him awake. Like he was holding something fragile and sacred. Like if he moved, even slightly, you might disappear.

In the morning, you stirred first. Groggy and quiet, blinking sleepily against his chest before murmuring something about needing to go home and change before work. He offered to take the day off. Said he could cancel everything. That he didn’t care.

But you shook your head with a tiny smile. Insisted that he go.

You even teased him for hovering. Called him “overly attentive.” He’d rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but when you leaned in and kissed him goodbye, soft and sleepy, he nearly asked you to stay.

But you left. And he watched the door long after it closed behind you.

Now he’s here. Under sterile lighting. A boardroom full of chatter. And across the table sits the man who used to be your husband in everything but legality.

He walked in laughing - with her - like it’s just another Thursday. The girlfriend is practically attached to him, all smiles and subtle touches, like they don’t work under the same roof. Like they’re not sneaking around as if people haven’t noticed. Seonghwa doesn’t look up immediately. Just lets his fingers tap softly against the side of his coffee cup. 

Measured. Calm. Focused.

“Morning,” your husband says with that too-casual tone, like everything’s perfectly fine.

“Morning,” Seonghwa replies, flat and cool.

He doesn’t do anger like most people. It simmers quietly in him, contained, controlled. He doesn’t lash out. He remembers. He watches. He files things away until the time is right.

Today’s not the day.

But he is watching.

The meeting starts. The others file in, small talk filling the space. Projector humming, documents shuffling. Seonghwa opens the presentation. Keeps his voice even.

“I’d like to keep today’s meeting brief,” he says, voice smooth and low. “We’re focusing on timelines, project deliverables, and accountability.”

His gaze flicks to your husband. The pause is barely a second too long. “Especially accountability.”

There's a flicker in the man’s expression. He shifts in his seat, coughs once like he’s about to make a joke, but one look from Seonghwa shuts him down. The meeting ticks forward. 

Then your husband speaks up.

“I think the delay in deliverables came down to a lack of communication, not really our fault,” he says, flashing a grin at his girlfriend like she’ll have his back.

She does.

But Seonghwa is already leaning forward, calm but sharp. “And who was responsible for communicating that timeline to the vendors?”

Silence.

Your husband clears his throat. “Well… technically, I was. But-”

“Then let’s not redirect blame.” Seonghwa’s voice doesn’t rise. It never needs to. “If you were the lead, you’re accountable. End of story.”

The table goes quiet. The girlfriend shifts awkwardly. And your husband, he looks like he wants to argue but doesn’t dare.

Good.

Seonghwa could say more. So much more. He could talk about how you came to him last night after being ignored for months. How you told him things you never said to anyone. How you almost gave yourself to him. How you let him hold you, warm you, kiss you, keep you safe. How you fell asleep against him like he was the only place you felt okay.

He could say how he’s never going to forgive this man for not seeing you. For making you feel small. For letting you cry alone in your kitchen while he flirted with someone new on the clock.

But Seonghwa keeps it inside.

He lets the meeting run its course. Makes his points. Keeps his composure. Because no one knows what you are to him.

Yet.

And when it’s finally over, he gathers his papers slowly. Closes his laptop with care. And doesn’t look back once.

Because there’s something about seeing that man across from him, pretending like he still owns your heart, when Seonghwa knows what it feels like to have you kiss him good morning, in nothing but his hoodie, after a night of quiet healing.

He’s not done protecting you.

And your husband? He doesn’t even realize he already lost.

TAGLIST: I only have one main taglist, so if you wish to be added/removed, then let me know! xx @lveegsoi  @vixensss  @yizhou-time  @imgenieforyou-boy @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @ateezswonderland @cozypaint @blutiny @aerangi @arigakittyo @femaholicc @queenofdumbfuckery @mingiatz @hwaskookies @vent-stink @desanslogique @taestrwbrry @hannahstacos

[walking-beetles]

happy mother’s day to seonghwa specifically 💗🫄

[artofchoisan]

MAKING THE GAMER LORD JEALOUS?

Idol!Gamer!Yunho x Jealous!Reader

The Plot: Caught in the whirlwind of your boyfriend Jeong Yunho’s obsession with the tactical shooter game Valorant, you feel neglected as his gaming sessions consume his time, leaving you craving his attention. Frustrated and desperate, you devise a plan with Yunho’s friend Wooyoung to provoke his jealousy by flirting with professional gamers from T1, hoping to reignite his focus on you. However, your scheme pushes Yunho too far, awakening his possessive side, and he decides to punish you for your actions, reminding you exactly who you belong to.

TW: Punishment, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Bondage (Collar and Leash), Edging, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Spanking, Light Choking, Dirty Talk

Words: 6.8k

► ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Everyone that ever step foot upon this earth always come across some sort of enemy, someone that instilled a hatred into them that until their last breath would be casted upon this realm of existence, they would clung tightly to it and as for your case, your hatred was unfortunately not towards a person though you wished it had been the case, it would have been simpler and easier.

Alas, no. 

It wasn't a person that caused a fire of anger and annoyance to clash like two warring storms in your soul.

It was this godforsaken game, Valorant.

A bonehead game that takes all your boyfriend's attention. 

Jeong Yunho had nothing on any other guys that you’ve been with. A sweetheart and perfection on legs with the personality of a golden retriever and a smile that not even the brightest star in the universe can go against.

Warm and gentleness was injected into his veins and when his smile lit up the room it mirrored an adorable golden retriever wagging its tail out of pure joy and love and lets not get started on though warmth lingers in him, in the intimacy he is an alpha in heat between the sheets with bedroom eyes and a roughness that caused pure ecstasy. 

Yet sometimes when he isn't being soft-spoken or sin-drenched.

Yunho just plays this team-based first-person tactical hero shooter called Valorant and these days it’s been more than normal to the point where on a live to his fans, he even played that and even before this live he wanted to practice which means you’ve been just left there although he had tried to make you to play with him, it failed to spark your interest.

He understands you.

You understand him.

Yet you could do nothing yet to only crave for his attention, his tour had just finished and you thought he would pounce on you like a starved beast and ravage you leaving you with hickeys and love bruises and bite shattered all over your skin.

But no as soon as the tour was done he only went onto practice mode even when the management had told him he didn't need to practice and can just have some time for himself he refused and went on full practice mode.

Nonetheless you didn't want to tell him how abandoned you felt, you knew him too well and knew that he wanted to finish it before allowing himself to loosen up before more of his schedule took up his time. 

There were only a few hours left and your lover was still practicing as you were just lying in the bedroom on your phone, before your eyes darted up when you noticed you got a notification from…Wooyoung? 

Humming in confusion you opened the message and your eyes widened before you let out a silent scoff. You've spoken to Wooyoung about how it was with Yunho and he told you he would find a way to get what you wanted and it was this little menace who gave you the idea of riling up Yunho so as to give you what you wanted.

“This guy is truly something.” You breathed out as you read Wooyoung’s plan who also had somehow dragged the management as well into this, this plan was truly unhinge yet you’ve expected nothing less from Jung Wooyoung, “Let’s get the plan started.”

The hours went by and just like that Yunho was ready and the live was soon to start the live before Wooyoung wicked agenda started to be put in action when the manager signalled Yunho, “Also Yunho, this will not be told to the fan but we’ve got a special something for you.”

“What happened?” Yunho inquired curiously as he adjusted his headset.

“The first team you will be playing against will be some members from T1 who are Oner, Gumayushi, Keria, Doran and Chovy from Gen.G.” As the manager processed this information to Yunho, you noticed how his eyes grew wider and wider as well as how his mouth dropped. He was just put against the best pro gamers of the whole country with T1 members who are known as the gods of the gaming scene and who are just as famous if not even more than any other idols.

“Is this a joke?” Was what he first blurted out as he couldn't believe what he was hearing with his expression clouded in confusion, “How did you guys even manage that?”

The manager could only shrug at this with his reply being, “They just wanted to give you this as a gift so what you have to do is to not let it out to the fans that you’re playing against them.”

Yunho nodded slowly as he rested back on his chair, confusion still etched into his demeanor, his mind lost in thought as he adjusted the volume and started the game. 

He locked into a playful expression as he started the live, “Hello Atiny!” His bright smile lit up the scene and as soon he did, the other players joined in as well who were the members of T1 but they were on different names so as to not cause any suspicion.

What the fans might also not be aware of was the fact he wasn't in KQ building but at SK Telecom building and in the next room were the members of T1, you could do nothing but to also wonder what kind of magic wandered along the fingertips of Wooyoung to being able to pull such a scheme.

Then when you think more about it, Keria from T1 is just as unhinged as Wooyoung so they could be friends.

Demons danced onto his weary shoulders as the pressure took hold on him, your plan to get back to him, gain your boyfriend a one of a lifetime chance and honor to go against the best team not only of Korea but of the whole world although not in the game they’re the gods.

Once the game was on you’ve had no idea what was even going on so you’ve just decided to go walk around the SK telecom building after around one hour of forcing your gaze to focus on the game Yunho was playing, despite everything he always look so good when he is on full concentration mode like that and you couldn't help but hold in your giggles at each and every moment he almost curses out.

You’ve been walking around as you get access to all the different kinds of rooms in SK telecom. It has been nothing but pure fun as you’ve fallen asleep for around two and a half on the massage chairs in the resting room area. 

“Two hours already damn…” You whispered as you stretched out and rubbed your eyes, “Those chairs are so comfortable though but ugh so hungry now.”

What you’ve kept as a secret from Yunho is the fact that you’re indeed not one for games but you’ve fallen in love with the humility of T1’s members and you knew that Wooyoung was aware of that and you were just dreading what his plan actually implied as you walked towards the cafeteria.

By now the match along with the live must have already ended as you can see Oner, Keria and Gumayushi walking into the cafeteria. Looks like indeed Wooyoung was friends with Keria as when he saw you he pointed and rushed to you with the other two following behind, “You must be the person Wooyoung told us about.”

As he spoke, the smirk dancing on the corner of his eyes caught your attention, yet you could only smile shyly, you admired him just as much as you were in awe in front of Faker, “I guess I am.” You giggled, “How was the match?”

“He’s boiling right now.” This reply came from Oner who happened to just sat next to you making you in the middle of a way too playful Keria and a calm yet amused Oner who was just sipping on his drink before a another smirk appeared, “Once the live was done he lost his cool.”

You knew it too well how your boyfriend can be when he lost and he tended to also curse the hell out of the enemy team and then it was then it registered to you, Wooyoung this little menace.

“I heard you’ve been a fan of ours.” A wicked charming smirk carved across Oner’s face.

Keria then joined in and added, “And another rumour is going on that you’ve got a crush on Oner right there.” 

As soon as he spoke those words your face not only blossomed into a deep red but at the same time Oner was quite close to you and to top it all off, you got all red from how shy you’ve felt but trying to look away your eyes cross path with someone whom definitely heard everything as they entered the cafeteria and it was Yunho.

Those eyes of his never lied, it got darkened as his whole body looked tensed yet as calmness wrapped around his demeanor another truth could be etched was how he had his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, carving him into a hungry beast thrusting for its next prey and set to annihilate anyone that ever played with his nerve.

So, seeing the man that just beat him flirting with his girl so close with said girl getting all shy just didn't make it any better.

And what did you do?

Played along because your dear boyfriend needed a wake up call and you were needy for him.

So two can play at this game as you turn your gaze back onto Oner and smiled as you adjusted a strand of hair behind your ear, “You caught me there, although Faker win my heart, you’re not so far ahead—”

As soon as those ghosts of words slipped from your lips, a crash was heard and you look behind to see a glass had slipped from Yunho’s hand where some staff rushed to see if he was alright and he only nodded but you could see the murderous intent that threatened to break free into his gaze.

His stare turned back to you and it brought chills to your body as excitement twisted and slithered under your skin and you only handed Yunho an innocent smile and a challenging look before turning back to Oner and smiled.

The only thought in your mind as the chef plated the food to you and the others is how to add more salt to the injury as you picked a bite of your chicken, “You guys are so lucky to have your own private chef and the food looks so good.”

Oner hummed in response as he devoured his food, “You can come over anytime.” The pro gamer winked teasingly at you, “You’d get all this good food for free.”

“Then I would love to.” You take a bite of your chicken and you were not lying as this food tasted divine then you took another piece of chicken from your fork and handed it toward Oner’s mouth, “Here try some of mine, it’s really good and since you seem to exercise a lot it look like you’ll need lots of protein.”

As all of this scene was unfolding, you were not blind of the lethal stare that was locked onto you that you blatantly ignored as you only giggled closer to Oner.

Adding even more salt to the wound that was opened you added, “Well I’m not well versed in the gaming scene but I guess you can teach me then.” 

Mic drop.

The final attack.

Yunho was the first one who had to disappear due to one last schedule of the day. You thanked Keria and Oner for their help and both of them chuckled before Oner added, “I just hope he won’t punch me  in the face next time we meet.”

Keria laughed, “Currently it's more her in hot waters right now.” Then a serious tone darted onto his words, “I understand your reasons and having a gamer boyfriend plus idol isn't for the fainted heart but seeing the way how he wanted to just walk straight over here and slammed Oner’s head onto the table, this guy really in love and just needed a wake up call.”

Gratitude warmth in your tone as you thanked them, it was time for you to return home and you’ve barely crossed the threshold of the shared apartment of you and Yunho that you could almost feel the tension that burned into the atmosphere as you threw your back on the couch, exhausted.

Yunho was inside the place, his shoes were just outside and he always knew you were inside the apartment.

Only closing your eyes as you rested your head back against the couch, the light was turn on and the room was illuminated by the glow of the moonlight and streetlight followed by the light breeze of the opened balcony door was relaxing and you could feel yourself slowly fall back into the arms of Morpheus, however, the sound of the bedroom door opening caused you to slowly open your eyes.

Jeong Yunho stood in front of you, fresh out of the shower, with one towel around his waist and another around his neck as droplets of water dripping from his hair while the the haunting gleam of the moon gently touched his frame making him even more ethereal while his gaze had a dangerous fire shining into them.

A smoldering gaze of yours danced across his bared body, his abdominal muscles were a sight to see and the droplets of water that slithered down the curved of those muscles cause for the anger that hurled inside of you to escape and it did, in a short and cold tone, “Something the matter Yunho?”

His expressionless eyes met yours, “Shouldn't you be the one telling me what’s going on.”

This deep voice of his brought shivers to your spine and he looked down on you like that yet you knew how to control your emotions as you only handed him a smile, “Ah..” Mockery first, “You should’ve tried the food, it was delicious.” Taunting to end it. 

His hands came slamming down on each side of the couch and his darkened stare never left yours as his head tilted to the side, his face closer to yours as you felt his hot breath and the droplets of water falling softly. 

Fingers sinking in the couch with a force that caused you to flinch yet your face remained cold with a challenging look into your eyes that looked up at him, his breathing rushed and ragged onto your skin as he growled, “You’re testing my limits a bit too much now.”

Leaning closer towards his ear, “I have no idea what you’re talking about babe.” A dark amusement flickered in your voice.

Feeling him almost growling, you couldn't help your smile and just on time, your phone vibrated with a message and his dark eyes only darted at your phone, and fury could be seen from his gaze as he read the name it was from Hyeon-jun, Oner real name and this familiarity only enraged Yunho even more.

“I do not like what happened today.” A murmur lost into the darkness with a gaze burning with restrained and dangerous, “How you flirted, laughing and even fucking fed him food.”

Despite still holding the gaze of Yunho with a nonchalant challenging gaze. You couldn't help but to gulp, him swearing like that, his words dripped in a slow, smoldering drawl, it was so sinfully arousing.

“Let me take this, it’s quite rude to not answer.” Ignoring him and reaching out for your phone only burned his patience to ash as his own composure snapped and he took the phone and throw it onto the other couch, “Hey that was quite rude—”

Your own words strangled before they could escape as the heat bled from his palm as the touch of his fingertips settled around the skin of your throat, claiming its presence without force and you managed to bite out half of the moan that gasped out.

Arousing tension licked up your spine, but you refused to give Yunho the satisfaction, though you knew he caught sight of how you gulped and how you almost moaned.

Only wanting to taunt him even more as a sickening smile crawled into life on your lips, “Didn't know you were into such a kink.”

A mild force traced your neck as he leaned closer to your ear, “Was it all for me?” Calm fury burning his tone as his hot breathing scorched your ear, lips almost touching them as he pressed on, voice like a low growl, “That you’re now being such a whore.” The words spilled out, darker with each breath and you didn't think such vulgarity from his mouth would turn you on so horridly like that.

“Knowing you…” Yunho growled, fingers still pressed around your neck as his slightly wet hair pressed against your forehead, “It must have been all just a sick idea from Wooyoung.” Yunho knew Wooyoung for so long that he wasn't surprised by his friend's antics but right now it had hit him way too close for him to see it as acceptable.

"You really wanna test me?" he whispered, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe as you fought yourself to not let any weakness seep through your demeanor.

Then, without warning, Yunho pushed himself away from you, standing tall as he ran a hand through his wet hair, jaw tight.

You blinked, watching him walk over to the TV — muscles tense under the towel as he opened the drawer like he was searching for something specific.

Your breath caught when you saw what he pulled out.

A black leather collar and leash.

Your eyes widened in bewilderment. "Yunho?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to face you, dangling the leash from his fingers as he stared you down.

"You wanna act like a brat, flirting with that guy — the one who beat me?" His voice was low, rough, cutting right through you as his tongue poke the inside of his mouth. "You think I wouldn't notice? You think I wouldn't do something about it?"

He took a slow step toward you, his gaze never leaving yours.

"And you know what's funny?" he said, a dark smirk curling on his lips. "Wooyoung gave me this as a joke." He let out a soft, bitter chuckle. "Said I'd need it when you start acting out. Looks like he was right."

You swallowed thickly as he stood in front of you, holding out the collar.

"Put it on." His voice was sharp, commanding.

You hesitated, heart pounding. "Yunho—"

He tilted his head, stepping closer until he was towering over you again. "I’m not asking."

When you didn’t move, his hand gently gripped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. "Do I need to do it for you?"

The heat from his body, the seriousness in his eyes, made you shiver. "You wanna play games?" he murmured, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Let's play." He dropped the collar in your lap, the metal buckle cold against your skin, and as you stared down at it, realization sank in.

You pushed him too far this time.

And now... Yunho was going to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

Your fingers trembled slightly as they brushed over the leather collar resting in your lap. You could feel Yunho's gaze burning into you, watching, waiting.

When you didn’t move fast enough, he let out a soft, dangerous laugh. "You always have so much to say," he murmured, leaning in close again, his hand reaching out to snatch the collar from your hands.

"Guess I’ll do it myself."

Before you could react, he was behind you, fingers brushing your neck as he gently — but firmly — wrapped the collar around your throat. His knuckles grazed your skin as he adjusted the strap, and when you swallowed, you felt the leather tighten perfectly around you.

The click of the buckle locking into place echoed in your ears, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Perfect," Yunho whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, making you shudder.

Then he moved around to face you again, tugging lightly on the leash now clipped to the collar. You gasped as the gentle pull forced you to look up at him, meeting his dark, heated gaze.

"You wanted my attention, didn’t you?" he smirked, crouching down in front of you, his free hand sliding up your thigh, teasing but possessive. "Well, sweetheart, now you’ve got all of it."

Your breath hitched as his fingers grazed higher, slipping under the hem of your shorts, slow and deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of watching you squirm.

"You think I’m gonna let you get away with teasing me all day? Flirting with some other guy?" His hand suddenly gripped your thigh tightly, making you gasp, as he yanked the leash just enough to bring your face inches from his.

"No, baby," he whispered darkly. "Now you're gonna be good for me."

Without warning, he leaned in and claimed your lips, the kiss rough and demanding, his teeth grazing your lower lip as he tugged it between his teeth, making you whimper softly.

"Yunho—"

"Shh," he smirked, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his hand sliding higher until his fingers brushed over the sensitive heat between your legs. "Look at you," he teased, eyes glinting. "Already so worked up... from what? Me? Or the thought of wearing this for me?" He tugged on the leash again for emphasis.

You let out a shaky breath, cheeks flushed as you tried to steady yourself.

"That's what I thought."

Standing up slowly, he looked down at you, towering, the towel around his waist hanging on dangerously loose now. His eyes trailed over your body, dark and hungry.

"Take it off."

You blinked up at him. "W-what?"

He tilted his head, smirk turning sharper. "Your clothes. Off. Now."

When you hesitated again, he tugged sharply on the leash, pulling you up to stand in front of him. You gasped, stumbling a bit, and he caught your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look up at him.

"You wanted to act like a brat, now you’ll act like my good little pet," he whispered, voice sending shivers through you. "Or do I need to help you with that too?"

As Yunho’s hand slid down with slow, deliberate intent, his fingers grazed along your waistline before moving to the button of your shorts. His eyes never left yours — sharp, dark, filled with a dangerous kind of patience, daring you to push him further, daring you to say no.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

You didn’t want to.

Your lips parted slightly as you stared up at him, breathing uneven, but still trying to keep that spark of defiance in your gaze, refusing to give him the full satisfaction just yet.

"After this," Yunho murmured darkly, voice low and rumbling like thunder, "you won’t forget who you belong to."

His hand gave a sharp tug to your shorts, letting them slide down your thighs before pulling back. Then, without breaking eye contact, Yunho’s fingers moved to the towel hanging dangerously low on his hips.

You swallowed thickly, heart hammering in your chest — but refused to look away, even as he let the towel drop.

And God, the sight of him made your knees weak.

His cock stood thick and heavy, already hard — long and veiny, with thick veins running along the length, pulsing slightly with each heartbeat. The tip was flushed a deep red, already leaking a drop of precum that made you bite your lip without meaning to.

He was huge, bigger than you ever teased him about — and you knew it, but you still smirked up at him, tilting your head slightly.

"Wow," you breathed, tone laced with a teasing edge, grinning despite the heat rising in your cheeks. "Getting all worked up just because I was a little brat, huh?"

Yunho’s jaw ticked, eyes narrowing, though that smirk never left his lips.

"Keep running that mouth," he said smoothly, wrapping the leash once around his hand as he loomed over you. "See what happens."

Still, you couldn’t help but lean back on the couch slightly, legs spread just enough to tease him, fingers brushing over your own thighs as you looked him up and down.

"Hmm, maybe I’ll need a closer look," you purred, though your voice trembled just a little at the end — a mix of fearless teasing and nervous excitement.

That was all Yunho needed.

With one sharp tug of the leash, he pulled you forward, forcing you to slide off the couch and land on your knees in front of him — exactly where he wanted you.

"Since you want to act like a brat so bad," Yunho growled, staring down at you, his cock now mere inches from your lips. "You can start by putting that mouth to better use."

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, lips curling into a playful smirk.

"And if I don’t?" you challenged, though your body betrayed you, thighs pressing together, breath quickening.

Yunho chuckled darkly, reaching down to brush his thumb over your lips, applying just enough pressure to make you part them.

"Oh, baby," he whispered, smirk deepening. "You will."

Yunho’s thumb dragged slowly over your bottom lip, his cock hovering right in front of your mouth, thick and pulsing, veins running along the length that made your throat tighten just from looking.

“Open up,” he said, voice dark and commanding, giving the leash in his hand a sharp tug that made the collar press tighter against your throat.

You gasped at the pull, lips parting without thinking, and he immediately took the chance to slide the swollen head over your tongue, groaning as your mouth wrapped around him.

“Good girl,” Yunho murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, “You’re being such a good little girl for me.”

You tried to keep control, hollowing your cheeks, tongue swirling teasingly around the tip as you sucked gently — eyes flicking up at him with a bratty glint, as if daring him to react.

And he did.

With a growl, Yunho’s hand in the leash yanked it harder, forcing you to take more of him, your eyes going wide as his thick cock pushed deeper down your throat.

“Yeah, you wanna tease? Keep going,” he grunted, pulling tighter until your nose pressed against his skin, your throat stretching painfully to take him all.

Your hands gripped his thighs tightly as you choked around him, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, a muffled gag vibrating against his length.

“Fuck— look at you,” he groaned, throwing his head back for a second before staring down at you again, his abs flexing as he held you there for a moment longer, making sure you could feel every inch of him buried in your throat.

You whimpered, throat convulsing as you tried to adjust, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t back away — instead, you pushed your tongue out, flattening it against the underside of his cock to make him groan louder.

“Such a good fuckin’ toy for me,” Yunho hissed, pulling back just enough to let you gasp for air, only to thrust back in, harder, deeper.

Your hands trembled as you clung to his thighs, and Yunho gave another rough pull on the leash, forcing you back down on him until you were gagging again, choking and drooling around his length.

“Choke on it, baby,” he growled, watching as your throat struggled to take him. “You wanna be a brat? Then you can take it all.”

Tears ran down your cheeks now, but the heat in your core only got worse, and even as you choked, you moaned around him — the sound sending vibrations along his cock that made Yunho curse under his breath.

“Shit—” he gasped, tightening his grip on the leash as he set a brutal pace, fucking your mouth with deep, rough thrusts, each one making you gag louder.

You could barely think, mind fuzzy from the lack of air, tears streaming freely, spit and precum coating your lips and chin in a filthy mess.

But still, even with your throat sore and raw, you looked up at him with glassy eyes, and somehow — somehow — you managed a smirk around his cock.

That look made Yunho snap.

“You wanna keep smirking?” he growled, giving another sharp yank of the leash that had you gasping and choking even more as he buried himself all the way down, holding you there, deep-throated and struggling, until your fingers dug into his thighs in desperation.

Finally, he pulled out, letting you fall back a little as you coughed, tears running down your cheeks, spit dripping from your chin.

You wiped your mouth with a trembling hand, panting hard, throat burning — but that little defiant smile was still there as you looked up at him.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” you rasped, voice raw but full of challenge.

Yunho’s eyes darkened dangerously, his cock twitching, still slick from your mouth.

“Oh, baby,” Yunho growled with a dark smirk, yanking the leash hard to pull you up roughly. “You think I’m done with you? I’m just getting fucking started.”

He shoved you back onto the couch, spreading your legs wide as he climbed between them, his cock thick and glistening, veins running along the shaft, twitching to be inside you.

“Look at you—mouth ruined, but still acting like a brat,” he sneered, stroking himself slowly as his eyes roamed your body.

Leaning in, he pressed the head of his cock against your soaked entrance, teasing you as he tightened the leash, making you gasp.

His lips brushed your ear, voice low and dangerous. “Let’s see how much of that attitude you’ve got left when I’m so deep inside you, you forget how to speak.”

He pushed in just a little, making you moan, before pulling back with a smirk. “You wanna tease me? Flirt with other men?” he whispered, biting your ear. “Nah, baby. I’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Yunho looked you dead in the eyes, pulling the leash to keep you right where he wanted.

Yunho hovered over you, his thick cock heavy and aching between your thighs, teasing your entrance but never pushing in — holding that power, that control, watching you with dark, hungry eyes.

The leash was still tight in his hand, fingers curled firmly around it, keeping you right where he wanted.

"You wanna act like a brat?" he growled low in your ear, his free hand gripping your thigh as he aligned himself. "I’m gonna make sure you remember who you belong to."

Your body trembled under him, heart racing, but just as he was about to push into you — right at that edge — something inside you cracked.

Despite the heat, despite your body wanting him, your heart ached with something deeper. You knew if you didn’t say something now — if you let this continue — things would only stay this way. You would never get to say what’s been eating you up inside.

The usual fire in your eyes dimmed, your gaze softening, shoulders sagging. You licked your lips nervously, voice barely a whisper as your fingers gripped the blanket under you.

“…Red.” It was soft — but loud enough for Yunho to hear.

His whole body froze instantly, like that single word knocked all the air out of his lungs. His eyes widened, the darkness vanishing in a blink, replaced with sudden panic. “F-fuck…” he breathed, dropping the leash like it burned him, hands coming up in the air as if afraid to touch you. “Baby? Shit, baby, are you okay? Did I—did I go too far? Please tell me.”

You stayed quiet, looking down, the weight of the moment heavy between you both.

“Baby—fuck,” he cursed under his breath again, scrambling to grab the nearest blanket and gently wrapping it around your shoulders, covering you up like you were fragile glass that might break. “Babe… please,” Yunho said softer, cupping your face but not fully touching, just hovering, scared. “Talk to me. Please.”

You shook your head, curling into yourself under the blanket. “It’s… it’s not that.”

Yunho’s brows furrowed, confused but still so concerned, his heart racing. “Can I—” he swallowed thickly, “Can I touch you?”

You looked up at him with teary eyes, giving a small nod.

Relief flooded his face as he gently, carefully pulled you into his arms, holding you close, cradling the back of your head like you might slip away if he wasn’t careful.

He rocked you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, voice trembling, “I’m so sorry, angel… please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t fix it if you don’t let me in.”

You sat quietly for a moment, heart pounding, before whispering, “I’m scared…”

Yunho’s arms tightened around you immediately. “Of me? Baby, no—”

You shook your head. “Not of you… I’m scared that gaming means more to you than I do.”

His whole body tensed. “What?”

“I’ve seen it happen before…” you admitted softly, eyes welling up as you stared at the blanket in your lap. “I’ve seen people I care about get so lost in games, they forget everyone else. I’ve seen families fall apart because someone couldn’t put the controller down long enough to love the people waiting for them. I’m scared you’ll choose that too. That I’ll never be more important than a game.”

Yunho’s throat worked as he swallowed hard, guilt washing over him like a tidal wave. “Oh baby… oh my god, no…”

He gently cupped your face, tilting your chin so you had no choice but to meet his soft, teary eyes.

“I’m so sorry you’ve been carrying that. I didn’t know… fuck, I should’ve noticed, should’ve asked what was going on in that beautiful head of yours,” he whispered, voice cracking.

“I should’ve seen that you were scared… should’ve never let it get this far. I’m so sorry, baby.”

His voice was soft, breaking slightly as he cradled you close, his warmth surrounding you.

You clung to him, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt like you were scared to let go, head resting against his chest as his heartbeat thudded loud and steady beneath your ear.

“Promise me?” you whispered, your voice small, vulnerable.

Yunho pulled back just enough to see your face, cupping it gently in both hands. His thumbs brushed away the tears that clung to your lashes, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips — so tender, so full of love it made your chest ache.

“I promise, baby,” he whispered against your lips. “You’ll never be second to anything. You come first. Always.”

And when you looked up at him, finally seeing his sweet self fully back, those warm brown eyes searching yours with nothing but love and worry, you could finally breathe — knowing he was still yours.

“I love you, angel. I’m gonna show you every day that you’re my world,” he murmured into your temple, rocking you in his arms like he never wanted to let go.

But as much as his embrace felt like home, your heart still carried the weight of what you needed to say.

You pulled back just slightly, enough to look him in the eyes, voice shaky but determined now.

“I wasn’t… scared of you, Yunho,” you whispered, eyes glimmering with raw honesty. “I knew you’d never truly hurt me.”

His brows furrowed, listening carefully.

“I was scared of what I’ve been seeing lately… scared of losing you to gaming,” you admitted, your throat tightening. “You’ve been gaming so much more than before, and… it’s like I’m not even there sometimes. Like the game gets all of you and I get… what's left over.”

Yunho's eyes widened, guilt and realization flooding over his face.

“I felt left out, Yunho,” you continued, voice cracking. “Like I was just watching you drift away, and I couldn’t reach you no matter how much I tried.”

“Baby…” he breathed, eyes full of regret as he cupped your face again, softer this time, brushing his thumbs gently across your skin like you were something precious he’d almost lost.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, angel?” he asked, voice low and pained. “I never wanted to make you feel that way — never.”

“I didn’t know how to say it,” you whispered, looking down. “I didn’t want to sound selfish or like I was being too much. But… watching you pull away, watching the game take up all your time… it hurt more than I could admit.”

Yunho pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment, breathing you in like he was grounding himself.

“I’m so sorry, baby. God, I didn’t realize I was making you feel that way…” he said, holding you tighter. “You’re never too much. Never. You are everything to me.”

You sniffled, leaning into his touch, finally letting yourself melt into the safety of his arms.

“I’ll do better,” Yunho promised firmly, pulling back enough to look you in the eyes, sincerity shining in his gaze. “I’ll cut back, baby. I don’t need all that — I need you. I wanna be here with you, really here. No more making you feel like you’re not my priority.”

You searched his eyes, seeing nothing but truth there, and a small smile broke through the sadness.

“I just want you, Yunho,” you whispered.

He smiled softly, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’ve got me, baby. All of me. From now on.”

With a deep breath, he kissed you gently — no heat, no dominance, just love.

And when he pulled back, he wrapped you tighter in the blanket, tucking you close to his chest.

“Let’s stay like this for a while, yeah?” he whispered against your hair. “Just you and me. No games, no distractions. Just us.”

You nodded, snuggling closer, feeling the weight lift from your chest as he held you like you were his whole world — and you knew, from now on, he’d make sure you always felt that way.

It’s been a few hours since the jealous events, you’re now relaxing your body into the bathtub that Yunho had made for you, as well as even to go to the extent or aromatherapy water and essence and let’s not even get started about the petal roses he added into the water and should I even mentioned the candles Yunho light up all around the bathroom.

Romance with him was indeed never dead with this man.

“Here you go my lady.” The puppy was once more back as he handed up a glass of red wine to which you took with a giggle, him being so fussy with you made you fall even deeper in love with you.

Communication indeed has been the key, telling him how you feel about him gaming too much and feeling like he couldn't care less, he had promised to be better and you know him that he was a man of his words.

The water was hot, the perfect burning temperature to which you adore, relaxing your muscles in the best way possible and soon enough your golden retriever of  a boyfriend joined you in the bath and you snuggled up onto him, a big smile on his face as he hug you closer, “Thank you for giving me another chance.” Words of love as he kisses your forehead.

“I’m just grateful that you understand Yunho.” 

Yunho takes a sip of his own glass of wine, “I’m just in shock how Wooyoung knew of T1 and had such close contact with them, I don't know if I should be grateful or get my revenge on this little menace.”

Pecking him on his cheek, an idea formed in your mind, “I’m thankful for him but how about giving him a taste of his own medicine.” Yunho tilted his head to the side giving you a questioning look, “Well Wooyoung’s girlfriend is a big fan of T1 and especially Faker and I’ve seen her going crazy over him, blushing and being all giddy. So how about we do that?”

“Wooyoung deserves it but how about his girl?”

Shaking your head, you turn your body to him and kiss his neck, feeling the warmth and the wetness of his skin as you trace your lips along his skin, “Trust me yuyu she is just as insane as Wooyoung. Let’s get the plan started.” 

[koyagifs]

the talk

pairing: ot8 x f!reader au: 9th member | poly genre: fluff | slight angst ? with comfort synopsis: seems like baby fever is in the air ~ word count: 1.4k warning(s): baby fever, talk of pregnancy.

You were casually scrolling through Instagram when a video of a baby with her mother popped up on your feed. You stared at it in awe, your heart softening as your mind drifted. What if your life had taken a different path? What if you hadn’t debuted with ATEEZ?

You turned in bed, eyes settling on the pile of plushies you’d collected over the years. The room was quiet, your thoughts getting deeper—until a knock on the door pulled you back to reality.

“Coming!” you called, tossing the blanket off as you rushed to answer.

When you opened the door, you found Hongjoong standing there with a small, knowing smile.

“Hey,” he said. “How was the shoot with Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and San?”

“It was amazing,” you beamed. “Pretty sure Seonghwa oppa is still scrubbing yellow nail polish off his skin.”

You both laughed, the warmth of the moment easing the weight you’d been carrying just minutes before.

Hongjoong nodded toward the hallway. “Can you come out to the living room?”

Your smile faltered slightly. “Am I in trouble? Did I do something?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Of course not, baby. Just a small meeting for all of us.”

His reassurance soothed your nerves a bit, but curiosity bloomed in your chest as you followed him down the hall, wondering what could be important enough to gather everyone together.

You moved to sit beside Wooyoung, who didn’t hesitate to pull you gently into his lap. You settled against him with ease as Hongjoong stood at the front of the room, eyes scanning the group to make sure everyone was present.

“So,” Hongjoong began, “we all know Seonghwa, San, Wooyoung, and Yn just wrapped up filming for The Return of Superman.”

“Ah, I miss them so much already,” you sighed, turning to look at Wooyoung. He nodded in agreement, the fondness in his eyes mirroring your own.

Hongjoong gave a small smile, his expression softening. “Well… I figured since we’ve never really had the talk—not seriously anyway—about, you know… kids.”

The room fell into a quiet pause, the weight of his words settling over everyone. You felt Wooyoung’s arms tighten slightly around you, a silent show of support. Across the room, San sat up a little straighter, and Seonghwa tilted his head, clearly listening.

You nodded, glancing around at the boys, trying to lighten the mood just a little.

“Well,” you said, lips twitching into a small smirk, “if I were to get pregnant, we’re not doing a DNA test.”

A beat of silence—then laughter broke out across the room.

“Bold of you to assume we wouldn’t all just claim the baby anyway,” Wooyoung grinned, arms still loosely around you.

“Just imagining Yn pregnant…” Yeosang said with a dreamy sigh, resting his chin in his hand.

You gave him a look, trying not to laugh. “Why did you say that like it’s a daydream, Yeosang?”

Before Yeosang could answer, Yunho leaned forward, one brow raised. “Okay, but… there are eight of us. Would you really want to carry eight kids?”

The room fell silent for a beat. All eyes turned to you.

You looked down at your hands, then slowly raised your eyes to Hongjoong. “I mean…”

He tilted his head, waiting—gentle, patient.

You let out a short laugh. “Realistically… we’d have to consider a surrogate if the others wanted kids too. There’s only so much a woman’s body can handle.”

The boys nodded slowly, the laughter fading into a warm quiet.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa said, voice softer now. “We’d never expect you to go through something like that multiple times. Not unless it was what you really wanted.”

“It’s not just about having kids,” Hongjoong added. “It’s about making sure you’re safe, happy, and supported—whatever path we choose.”

San reached over and gently squeezed your hand. “You don’t have to carry eight mini-us to prove anything.”

“Good,” you snorted. “Because I love you all, but I’m not trying to repopulate a village.”

“Yeah, and you’ll see Hongjoong and Seonghwa pulling their hair out trying to chase after a mini you, Mingi, and Yunho,” you snorted, nudging Wooyoung with your elbow.

That set the room off again.

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair dramatically. “Just the thought of that gives me stress wrinkles.”

“Mini Mingi would disappear into a wall and come out with a frog and a jar of peanut butter,” Seonghwa added, shaking his head but smiling fondly.

“And don’t forget mini Wooyoung,” Jongho chimed in. “That one’s getting banned from school in a week. Tops.”

“Hey!” Wooyoung pouted. “My kid would be well-behaved.”

“Sure,” Yunho drawled. “Just like you were.”

You leaned your head against Wooyoung’s shoulder, a grin tugging at your lips. “Well, if our future is full of chaos and love, I think I’m okay with that.”

He glanced down at you, voice softening. “As long as it’s with all of us.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence, one no longer filled with jokes but something deeper—genuine, unspoken understanding. A shared dream. A future none of you had quite planned for, but were slowly beginning to imagine.

Then Hongjoong cleared his throat, his expression shifting slightly. “Okay, seriously though. We’re still idols. KQ doesn’t care that we’re dating, but if Yn ever announced she was pregnant, ATINY would have questions. About her. About us.”

“Then you two should go public,” Jongho said with a shrug and a small smile.

Wooyoung immediately sat up. “What? No way! It should be me and Yn. We’d break the internet!”

“Sorry, Youngie,” you teased, patting his thigh. “But it makes more sense for Hongjoong and I to go public first.”

Hongjoong nodded, thoughtful. “Yeah… it might soften the blow, at least. But how would we announce it?”

Yunho raised a brow. “You two could perform Matz together. And at the end… just kiss.”

“Ohh,” San grinned. “That’s bold.”

You slid off Wooyoung’s lap and settled onto the couch. “But Matz is Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s song. It wouldn’t be fair for me to join in.”

“Baby,” Seonghwa said, his voice soft and eyes pleading, “we’ve been dying to have you be a part of Matz.”

San leaned forward with a mischievous smile. “Do you know how hot it would be to see you rapping Hongjoong-hyung’s or Seonghwa-hyung’s lines?”

Your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, laughter bubbling up in your throat. “Oh, stop it.”

“I think we’ll end up putting a baby in you,” Mingi said with a smirk—only to yelp a second later as Hongjoong smacked his arm.

You burst into laughter, leaning into Wooyoung, who was laughing just as hard.

“Look,” you said through your smile, voice softening, “I definitely have baby fever—but I think we should take our relationship slow. Filming the Superman episode helped with that a bit. I want to keep growing with all of you. I want to enjoy our honeymoon phase while we have it.”

Jongho smiled gently, his voice steady. “And we always will. Even if we get tired, our love for you won’t fade.”

Wooyoung pressed a kiss to your cheek, grinning. “You’ll be a mama one day, sweetie.”

Yunho leaned back with a smirk. “Well, one of us is already called ‘daddy,’ so…”

Your face turned scarlet in an instant, eyes widening as the room went dead silent for a single beat—before it exploded.

Wooyoung and Mingi immediately started shouting over each other, both determined to be the loudest voice in the chaos. “What do you mean already called—?” “Since when?! By who?!”

Yunho shrank into the couch, arms raised in surrender as he tried—and failed—to stifle his laughter. His smug grin didn’t help his case. Jongho just shook his head, biting back his own chuckle as he muttered, “Unbelievable…”

Meanwhile, Yeosang and San were doubled over, clutching their sides in laughter. Taking full advantage of the distraction, you quietly slipped off the couch, trying to make your escape unnoticed—only to yelp when a hand caught your arm.

You turned, eyes wide, only to find Hongjoong standing behind you, his grip gentle but unyielding on your arm. That knowing smile on his face made your stomach flip.

“Not so fast there, princess,” he said smoothly. “We’ve got a score to settle with everyone.”

[lustlvii]

I love your writing, English isn’t my first language either but your writing is so easy to read and connect with I LOVE IT

Can i request some sub ateez? Any members is fine but yuhno mingi n san are my favs babyboys so Plsss

Maybe with some mommy kink too

Pls tag me if u do Besitosss

Ateez as subs. Ft yunho, san, and mingi

Including: sub! Yunho, San, Mingi x dom! Fem reader (all separate!)

Warnings: use of "mommy", bondage (yunho), cockwarming, crying, reader calls them "puppy", edging, praise, read at your own risk lmk if I missed anything!!!

Authors note: thank you for your request!!! I decided to do all three of them bc why not 🥴🥴 omg I had fun writing this

Yunho.

“m-mommy… please—”

“Please what, baby?” Your voice was syrupy sweet, but the glint in your eye had Yunho’s legs twitching, ankles bound to the bedposts with soft restraints, wrists pinned above his head. His body was flushed, chest heaving, cock twitching helplessly between his thighs.

You dragged your palm across his inner thigh, smirking as he flinched. “You’ve already cum once. You wanna act like a spoiled slut, you’re gonna take it like one.”

His hips lifted without permission, greedy for contact, making you tut. “Did I tell you to move, puppy?”

“No, mommy,” he whimpered, back arching, cock smearing precum all over his stomach. “I-I’m sorry, I just—feels so good, I can’t—”

Slap.

The sting of your palm against his thigh made him sob. “You can. You will. You’re gonna take what I give you, and you’re gonna thank me for using this fat cock like it’s mine—”

“’Cause it is yours,” he cried out, breath hitching as you finally sank down onto him, slow and tight. His thighs trembled under your palms. “All yours, fuck—ah! Mommy!”

“That’s right, baby,” you purred, nails digging into his chest as you started riding him hard. “Such a loud little slut. Can’t shut up for two seconds while mommy fucks you dumb, huh?”

His eyes rolled back, mouth falling open with the prettiest moans, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Y-you’re making me—nngh—g-gonna cum again!”

“Already? You really are my pathetic little toy,” you cooed mockingly, grinding your hips until you felt his cock throb violently inside you. “Go on then. Make a mess. Show mommy what a weak, needy thing you are.”

“Fuuuck—!” Yunho’s body spasmed beneath you, arms straining against the restraints as he came again, cum splattering between both your bellies.

But you didn’t stop.

“Ah—ah, no no no please—!” he sobbed, legs jerking, overstimulated out of his mind as you kept bouncing on his cock.

“You think I’m done with you, pretty boy?” You leaned down, licking the tears off his cheek.

“Don’t worry, baby,” you whispered in his ear, “Mommy’s gonna ruin you real sweet.”

San.

"please… please, mommy, let me cum this time—" San whimpered, thighs trembling on either side of yours as he tried so hard to stay still. But he couldn’t. Not with how warm and wet you were around him. Not with your hand wrapped softly around his throat like you owned him.

And you did.

"Did I say you could speak?" you cooed sweetly, hips rocking once — just once — but enough to make his head roll back. His lips parted with a wrecked moan, body jolting from the sudden jolt of pleasure.

He tried to stay strong, he really did. Tried to be good. But your pussy felt too good, hugging him so tightly, his cock pulsing every time you clenched around him without warning.

"You want to cum that bad, baby?" you purred, tilting your head as you looked down at where he was stuffed deep inside you, twitching pathetically. "All you’ve done is whine and cry. Humping my leg like a puppy, begging like a slut..."

"M’not a slut…" he whined through a choked sob, face buried in your shoulder as he clung to you. His cock throbbed again, leaking so much you could feel it drip down between your thighs. "I just need you so bad… it hurts—"

"Awww, poor thing," you giggled, biting down on his ear. "My poor dumb baby. Cock’s all red and swollen. You’re lucky I even let you in at all."

And god — he was.

You had edged him four times now. Teased him with your tongue until he was shaking and crying, kept your thighs tight around his head as he licked you to two orgasms without so much as letting him grind against the mattress.

Now you were cockwarming him. Letting him sit full inside you while he tried not to explode from the overstimulation.

"M-mommy… fuck, please, I— I’ll be good, I promise, I’ll do anything you want—"

You finally gave him a few shallow thrusts, and San nearly came on the spot, a choked cry strangling in his throat.

"You can cum when I say. Not before." You tightened your grip on his jaw, dragging his face up to meet your eyes. His lashes were wet with tears, lips trembling. So pretty. So ruined.

"Look at you," you whispered, pressing your forehead to his. "Just a needy little cockdrunk mess. This what you wanted, huh? Wanted to be used?"

"Y-yes," he sobbed, eyes wide and unfocused. "Please, I wanna cum so bad, mommy, please—"

You started riding him. Slowly. Cruelly. And he lost it.

San’s body tensed all at once, a strangled gasp ripping from his chest as his hips bucked up wildly, chasing that high. But you stopped. Froze.

And he wailed.

"No! No, please—"

"Did I say you could cum?"

He blinked through fresh tears. You smiled.

"That was a warning, puppy. Next time you disobey me… I’ll ruin you so bad you won’t get to cum for a week."

He shivered. Moaned. And nodded like the good boy he was.

Mingi.

"Not good enough," you muttered, voice like silk laced with venom, fingers gripping Mingi’s flushed, tear-drenched face as you kept your hips in motion.

He whimpered so sweetly, his thighs trembling beneath you, cock twitching inside your soaked heat as he tried to keep his glassy eyes on your face. “N-no, I—I can do better, I p-promise,” he stammered, voice wet and desperate as fat tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Then show me,” you snapped, your pace never slowing, even though his body had already been wracked by orgasm after orgasm — you’d stopped counting after the third. “You said you could fuck me stupid, didn’t you? Said you could make mommy feel good?”

“Mmghh—mommy,” he whined, completely fucked out, breath catching in his throat as you clenched around him. His hands gripped your hips weakly, trying to ground himself, but it was no use. You slapped one away with a sneer.

“No hands. You don’t get to touch unless you earn it.”

He sobbed at that, big eyes wide and shimmering as his head lolled back against the pillow, lips parted in a silent cry.

His cock was so red, so sensitive, so used. And still hard.

"Why are you crying?" you mocked, cupping his cheeks with one hand, slapping the other against his thigh. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Wanted to feel good?”

“I-I do… I do feel good, just—just hurts—”

“But did I say you could cum?” you spat, and his whole body jolted. “No. You came without permission, again.”

He sniffled. “I’m sorry, I’m s’rry, mommy—”

“You should be.” Your hips swiveled and he let out the most pathetic moan, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other grabbing at the headboard like he was holding onto life itself. “Look at your face. Dumb little baby. This how you impress me? By cumming like a messy little mutt?”

His breath hitched. You felt it in the twitch of his cock, in the sob that punched out of his chest.

“Please—”

“Say it.”

“W-want to be good,” he cried, eyes clenching shut as another orgasm stole over him. He twitched violently beneath you, body seizing up, cock spurting helplessly into you without your permission. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You didn’t stop.

He choked on a sob, legs shaking, lips trembling as you ground down harder. “Not good enough,” you murmured, rubbing his red chest with fake sympathy. “Maybe if you’d just shut up and perform, I’d be impressed.”

He looked destroyed. And you loved it.

“Keep crying, baby,” you purred, finally letting your nails rake gently down his ribs as he gasped and whimpered beneath you. “You’re gonna give me one more. Or we start over from the beginning.”

And he nodded.

Sobbing, broken, overstimulated and aching.

Writing by @lustlvii please do not translate or publish anywhere

[woosanslvut]

🫶The feminine urge to be tag teamed by these two fine shyts.

🫶 Oh to have San hitting it from the back as Wooyoung is kissing and feeling all over the pair of you whilst he mumbles praises to the both of you.

🫶 That scene in challengers with Zendaya in the middle and both men on either side.

🫶 Have you tried…. This one?

Picture taken from Pinterest 🫶

[miyadollie]

THE DEVIL WEARS RED ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

★ STARRING non idol jeon yunho x fem reader ★ WORD COUNT 1.2k

★ CONTAINS pwp , use of degrading words , rough sex , p in v , unprotected ( use safety !! ) , mean dom yunho , jealous yunho , cute ending

★ MIYA SAYS 💗 most overused trope on the planet but hehehe THIS WORK HAS ADULT CONTENT . MINORS ARE ADVISED TO NOT INTERACT WITH IT.

you felt yunho's eyes on you all night.

every subtle sway of your hips, every laugh that lingered too long at someone else’s joke, and especially when you let his friend dance a little too close—yunho noticed everything.

but he didn’t say a word. not in front of anyone.

his stare, though? lethal. heavy. possessive.

it was his best friend mingi's birthday celebration, and of course, he wouldn’t cause a scene. but you, oh you were the devil that night.

you wore that red dress. the one he bought for you, the one meant for his eyes only. you slipped into it like a sin, letting every curve of your body shine under the party lights. you knew what you were doing, and he knew it too. and he hated every second of watching others see what belonged to him. his gorgeous, beautiful, goddess of a woman.

he should’ve known better than to let you arrive with your best friend. the office work could’ve waited. dosie, with her reckless ideas and smirking instigation, had always been a bad influence. he often wondered why he hadn’t put an end to that friendship long ago.

when the party finally died down, you and yunho bid your farewells and left together.

the car ride was silent. tense. yunho's knuckles turned white around the steering wheel, his jaw set, brows furrowed. he didn’t speak, didn’t even glance at you.

he was disappointed, furious actually.

you, on the other hand, sat by the window, grinning to yourself like the wicked little thing you were.

you’d done everything on purpose.

yunho had been distant, consumed with work, barely touching you these past few weeks, and if acting like a whore in front of his friends was what it took to snap him out of it—so be it.

you didn’t regret a thing. because you knew exactly what was waiting for you when you got home.

and you were going to love every second of it. ────

the silence in the car was deafening, thick with tension. you could feel it rolling off yunho in waves—fury, lust, restraint. that dangerous cocktail he always tried so hard to swallow when it came to you. but tonight, you had stirred it up on purpose, and it was bubbling just under the surface.

he didn’t even look at you when he pulled into the driveway, just killed the engine and stepped out. the slam of the car door made you flinch—and smirk wider.

you followed him in, your heels echoing on the hardwood floor as he stalked inside ahead of you. the door barely closed behind you before he spun, eyes dark, jaw tight.

“that little stunt you pulled tonight,” he said, voice low and sharp.

you blinked up at him with doe eyes, playing innocent. “what stunt?”

he took a step closer. “wearing that fucking dress, letting mingi put his hands on you, laughing like some goddamn tease.”

“mingi’s your best friend,” you said sweetly, batting your eyelashes and trailing your fingers down the front of your dress. “you trust him, don’t you?”

“not with you,” he growled, grabbing your wrist in a vice grip, dragging you against him. “not when you look like this.”

you bit your lip, leaning into him. “maybe you shouldn’t have ignored me for three weeks, babe.”

his nostrils flared. “so this is revenge?”

you tilted your head, brushing your lips near his jaw. “this is reminding you what you’ve been missing.”

that did it. ────

in one motion, yunho shoved you back against the nearest wall, your gasp catching in your throat. his hands were on your waist, dragging the red dress up your thighs, his mouth pressing hotly against your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. you moaned, arching into him.

“you wanted attention?” he hissed, hand sliding between your legs. “you got it now.”

“good,” you whispered, breathless. “make me regret it.”

he growled, lifting you off the floor and carrying you to the bedroom like you weighed nothing. the door slammed shut behind you. you were tossed onto the bed, hair spilling around you like a halo. he stood at the foot, staring down at you, chest heaving.

“take that off,” he ordered, nodding to the dress. “slowly.”

you obeyed, eyes locked on his, fingers teasing the straps down your shoulders, baring inch by inch. his gaze burned hotter with every movement, until the dress slipped down your body and pooled at your feet.

yunho’s jaw flexed. “look at you. my fucking goddess. letting everyone see what’s mine.”

you smirked, sliding back on the bed. “then come remind me who i belong to.”

that was all he needed.

his clothes came off fast—rushed, angry, needy. you barely caught your breath before he was over you, caging you beneath his body, his hands rough as they gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head.

“such a whore,” he growled against your ear, teasing, hips grinding into yours, already hard.

your breath hitched. “i wanted to see if you still cared.” you tease back.

he let out a low, dangerous laugh. “oh, baby. i care more than you can handle.”

without warning, his mouth was on your chest, biting, sucking, marking. he moved with purpose—teeth scraping sensitive skin, tongue soothing it, hands everywhere. you arched into him, moaning, the friction between your thighs building with every second.

“look at this...” he murmured, voice gravelly. “so fucking desperate now. were you thinking about this when you let him touch you? huh?”

“n..no,” you breathed, eyes fluttering.

“lies"

he slid down your body, hands prying your legs open. “i should leave you begging, make you wait. but i can’t, nghh not tonight.”

he licked a stripe up your center, slow, deliberate. you cried out, hips jerking—but he gripped your thighs, keeping you still. his mouth worked like he was starving, tongue flicking, sucking, teasing. you tangled your fingers in his hair, sobbing his name when he didn’t stop, didn’t let up.

and just as you were about to fall apart—

he pulled away.

“yunho!!” you whined, trembling.

he crawled back up, face wet, eyes wild. “nah, you’re gonna come on me.”

he flipped you over effortlessly, pulling your hips up, lining himself behind you. he didn’t wait. he slammed into you in one deep, punishing thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“this what you wanted?” he panted against your back, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “to be- smack treated like this? for me to rail you till you're senseless, huh?" he emphasized with a particularly hard thrust.

“yes..fuckk.. yes!”

he pounded into you, relentless, filling you over and over while his hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could snarl in your ear.

“mine. you’re mine. say it.”

“i’m yours! fuck..i’m yours, yun!”

he groaned, hips stuttering. “you’d better fucking remember that next time you think about acting up.” he says through gritted teeth.

his hand reached around to rub your clit, fast and unforgiving. you shattered, screaming his name, body shaking uncontrollably beneath him. he followed right after, groaning low in your ear as he spilled into you, staying buried deep.

for a moment, everything went still. the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the thunder of your heart.

then you felt him lean down, kiss your shoulder softly, softer than you expected after what just happened.

“next time,” he whispered, still inside you, “just tell me you miss me.”

you smiled into the sheets. “but this was way more fun.” he shuts you up with a kiss. end. read more ❤︎ please like, reblog and let me know your reviews (๑>◡<๑) this work is a piece of fiction and is not intended to reflect the real personalities, actions, or beliefs of the individuals portrayed. the idols are mentioned as fictional characters for storytelling purposes. no harm, disrespect, or objectification is intended. everything written here is entirely imaginative and not based on real-life events or relationships.