#ateez Wooyoung

[linearities]

ᅟᅟᅟᅟ APPLE ౨ৎ CIDER . ｡ .

lazy sundays, matching pj's, cuddles, and an insanely amount of yapping. when your favorite dessert is brought up, your boyfriend is eager to bake you the best apple pie you ever tried! after you tie his hair for him, of course.

this fanfiction is part of my birthday event.

pairing: wooyoung x fem!reader.

genre: fluff.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, pet names, reader and wooyoung being very much in love, mention of sex scraches yay!

a/n: hi, pookies! sorry i'm late for our event, it was supposed to start on sunday (26th) but i had a few problems and couldn't post it. but here we are, with our first fanfic of the week! we'll have more coming up on the next few days, maybe not on schedule but they'll still come. love you all, stay safe!

masterlist · taglist form.

divider here.

it was a lazy, cold sunday. you and your boyfriend locked in your shared apartment, laughing and watching series, tucked under the covers with fuzzy socks and matching pajamas on. yapping about everything and nothing at the same time. how hungry you were, how cute you both looked, your future plans, your future family, your work, your projects, your cravings, everything.

talking had always been easy with wooyoung. he didn’t hold back, so you didn’t feel like you ever should. he always made you comfortable with being yourself, unapologetically so. do you feel the need to be loud? be loud. need to be vulnerable? be vulnerable. need alone time? have all the time you want, my dear. he’ll be here when you feel better. so, if at almost 9PM you say that you’re craving apple pie, he’ll simply jump off the bed to make it for you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead and smiling sickeningly sweet in your direction, heading to the kitchen without giving you a single chance to protest.

except a few minutes later, when the clanking and clacking of the utensils had stopped, his call was clear for you.

“baby? would you come here for a second?” you jumped out of bed, sliding in the shadow the hedgehog themed slippers he had bought for you before pacing lazily to the kitchen, finding him with his cooking apron on, shirtless and with a knife in his hand as he diced up the apples. ”can you tie my hair for me?”

he requested, earning a giddy giggle out of you, who nodded and looked around for a hair tie, positioning yourself behind him. gathering his hair in a low ponytail, you kissed the nape of his neck before tying it properly, giggling as you watched him shiver. that encouraged you to place another kiss there. and another, and another, hugging his waist from behind and nuzzling your face in between his shoulder blades, laying a soft kiss on the naked, soft skin, still with a few scratch marks from the night before.

“i love you,” you mumbled, deeply inhaling his natural scent, ”so much.”

he smiled, waddling around the kitchen with you glued to him, ”i love you too, baby. so much.”

well that was a short one! thank you all for reading, i'll see you next time !! <33

xoxo, meggie. <3

p.s.: rip wooyoo's long hair. 🕊️

taglist: @parakisss @kyeos4ng @irsmaxle @eixila @atztrsr @innocygnet @juicyjaxxy @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @jerseygirlzzzxx @wisejudgedragonhairdo @nanime-roality @yunhoslefto3 @tearsdntfall617 @roxhanah @atztrsr @innocygnet @sasaloveshj @jinternationalplayboy @svzllts @crimsonbubble

[bbdeongi]

☆A/N: NSFW Link + A Little Scene

Imagine wooyoung fucking you after a long day of performing and going to the pool… poor boy missed his pretty little girlfriend.. he wanted to give you attention after feeling like he hasn't, due to the tour <3

The door clicked softly behind Wooyoung as he entered the hotel room. His eyes immediately found you sitting on the bed, your damp hair from just showering moments prior. He had spent the day on stage, but now, seeing you here, he couldn't shake the need to be close to you. The distance between you two felt suffocating, and it made something inside of him twist.

"Hi, baby..” he said quietly, his voice low and thick, though his eyes told a different story—a mix of longing, frustration, and need.

You looked up at him with a soft smile. You had missed him all day.. "Wooyoungie! How was your little swim break?

His smile was tight as he dropped his bag by the door, but there was an edge to his voice when he replied. “It was fine, but it wasn’t the same without you,” he said, stepping closer to the bed. His gaze never left you, a silent plea in his eyes. “I missed you.”

You raised an eyebrow and giggled, a little surprised by the intensity of his words, but it was clear something was off. You could see the way he was holding himself back, his fists clenched as he stood before you, as though he were fighting an internal battle.

“Wooyoung…” you started, but he cut you off before you could say anything more.

“I hate this,” he muttered, his voice rough. “The tour, the distance… I just want to be with you, Y/N.” His hands reached for you, lifting you off the bed and pulling you into him. His lips found yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was desperate, urgent, and needy, like he was trying to close the gap between you two that had grown too wide over the course of the day.o

You let out a soft whiny-gasp at the intensity of his kiss, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer. The warmth of his body against yours felt like fire, and you could feel the tension in him, the need that was almost suffocating.

“Doll, I need you. I can’t think straight without you," he whispered between kisses, his voice shaky, almost raw. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, love. About how much I want you. About how much I miss you.”

You could feel his hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, his body pressing against yours as his lips trailed down to your neck. His breath was hot on your skin, and you shivered under the intensity of his touch. “Woo..,” you breathed, tilting your head back to give him better access, your voice shaking slightly. “I missed you too.”

His fingers skimmed the hem of your shirt, teasing the edges of your skin, and your breath caught in your throat. You wanted this, wanted him, but there was something else beneath the surface—something that made this moment feel even more urgent. You needed him as much as he needed you.

“Love,” he whispered, his voice raw, “let me show you how much you mean to me. I’ve been holding back, but I can’t anymore.”

His lips found yours again, harder this time, deeper, like he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands slipped under your shirt, his touch searing as he slowly lifted it off, exposing your skin to the cool air. You let out a soft gasp as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving hot, searing kisses in their wake.

“Fuck…” he breathed, his voice a growl now. “You’re perfect. I need to remind you how much I love you.”

You couldn’t hold back a moan as his hands caressed your skin, his lips finding your collarbone, your chest, as he moved lower, his fingers working their way up your spine. “Wooyoung,” you gasped again, “mngh...”

The sound of your voice seemed to break whatever restraint he had left. He growled low in his throat, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one more intense than the last. You felt his hands everywhere, roaming over your body as if he couldn’t get enough, pulling you closer, urging you to respond with the same hunger.

“I love you, doll,” he murmured between kisses. “You have no idea how much.”

The kiss between you and Wooyoung grew more heated by the second. His hands were everywhere—pulling at your waist, your hips, his fingers grazing your skin and the robe you had on. You could feel his bulge press against you and his need to have you close, to show you how much you meant to him after being apart all day.

Without warning, he pushed you gently but firmly onto the couch, your body sinking into the soft cushions. You let out a startled whimper, but before you could react, Wooyoung was on top of you, his lips crashing into yours in a fevered kiss.

His hands were quick as he yanked the robe off your shoulders, tossing it aside as if he couldn’t bear the fabric between you for another second. The cool air hit your skin, but the heat from his body quickly enveloped you, his chest pressing against yours as he hovered over you.

“Doll,” he breathed, voice full of need, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands slid down to the waistband of your jeans. “I’ve been wanting this all day, love. I can’t wait anymore… m’gonna fuck you so good”

You gasped softly, your heart racing as he worked to undress you, his hands moving with purpose and desire. His lips found your neck, trailing hot kisses down your skin as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him just as much.

Wooyoung paused for a moment, lifting his head to look at you with dark, intense eyes. “You’re mine, Y/N. You always have been.”

The world outside the room seemed to fade as he pressed his body against yours, each movement urgent, like he needed to remind you just how much you meant to him. The tension in the air was palpable, the need between you two undeniable.

You didn’t even realize his clothes were already off.. he flipped you over, ao you were on your stomach.. he gripped your hips and without warning, he slammed into your cunt, earning a loud moan from you.

“fuck.. Don’t want the others to hear, hm?” Wooyoung chuckled as he clasped his hand over your mouth to prevent any noise. He pounded into you, skin hitting against eachother filled the room.

Your eyes watered as he hit all the right spots.. you tried gripping onto something but you couldn’t. “O- oh fuck.. s- such a good doll.. taking my fat cock so well.” Wooyoung praised you.

“Im gonna fuck you so good tonight, doll..”

you knew you were in for a hell of a ride tonight… and who knows, maybe the other members will hear you.

[woozinhos]

Ateez Masterlist:

Hongjoong:

-Join in

-Two of us

Seonghwa:

-Make a mess

-Virgin

-My husband

Yunho:

-Walk in

-Need a hand?

-Jealous

-Join in

-Just watch us

-Underrated Duo

-Cowboys

-After Rough sex

-Rough Sex

-Breeding Kink

-Drunk Sex

Yeosang:

-Help me

-My own

-Virgin

-Walk in

-Need a hand?

-Snowy Creampie

-Watch me fuck her

-Should of knocked

-Is something wrong?

-Only in porn

-Creampie

-Show me what you learnt

-Can’t stop

-Raw Sex

-Bite the sheets

-Living room

-After Concert Fan

-But I’m pregnant

San:

-Join in

-Underrated Duo

-Shower Sex

-Two of us

Mingi:

-Cowboys

-Make up sex

-Non-Stop

-Just the tip

-Spit kink

Wooyoung:

-Christmas Party

Jongho:

-My baby

OT8:

-Squirting

-Squirting Orgy

-Nipple Piercings

-Pubic Hair

-You’re a vampire?

[spidergirllexi]

❤️‍🔥wooyoung in bed❤️‍🔥

Nsfw, for entertainment only, half my take and half astrology.

Wooyoung is one of the 50/50 sub and dom duo, but he’s more leaning towards dom. I think it just depends on who he’s with. And in woosan, y’all are saying san is the dominant one. Y’all are wrong, it’s actually wooyoung. Pay more attention to them. On with the post, wooyoung is a brat tamer, he likes to pull hair and leave marks, he’s more on the giving side than anything. So hickies, he dont like receiving them, but giving them? Sign him the fuck up. He’s into spanking and bondage(all the members are into bondage), wooyoung is genuinely hard to write for because of how go with the flow he is. He can be totally dominant one minute and then submissive the next, so sex would just consist of you both taking turns. Outside of the bedroom he’s more submissive, but in the bed he’s more dominant if that makes sense. So with that being said, his stroke game is more rough and shallow, his dick is more on the average 5-6 inches and he doesn’t have much girth, but he knows how to use it and make you cum multiple times. His specialty is oral, he used the tongue and finger combo a lot.

[jenoddity]

[wooyojung]

ateez

[kookinglikeachef]

what type of pussy eater do you think ateez are? like i just know yunho and wooyoung got to be the biggest pussy eaters!!! definitely the types to suck on your clit until it’s puffy 😩

kookinglikeachef: Sorry this took forever. I am like a sloth when it comes to writing. My name might as well be Syd.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The pros: NOT FOR BEGINNERS

Seonghwa, Wooyoung, Jongho

Precise and very focused on the task at hand. So don’t be in a hurry to cum cause they’re gonna take their time and drag it out for as long as possible. But when you do cum he’s already edging you for your next one. These men lick their fingers clean when they’re done with you.

They are STARVINGGGGG

Yunho, San

Unlike the pros, these two are messy. They eat it like they are enjoying a dish. You’re all over their face. Is your pussy from KFC? Cause that shit is finger lickin’ good. But they would clean you so nice it’s like they weren’t even there. And even when you’re done they still want more.

They just wanna fuck

Hongjoong, Yeosang, Mingi

Don’t get me wrong, they do belong up there with the pros and messy eaters but pussy eating does not do it for them. “Did you cum yet?” They’ll be fucking themselves against the mattress. It’ll be quick and half-assed just so they can get inside you sooner.

[airaviity]

◜hearts awakened, live alive◞

[hornydonutpost]

*Moans*

[koyagifs]

𝓶𝓪𝓹𝓼

pairing: wooyoung x reader x yeosang au: non idol | friends to strangers | genre: angst word count: 4.3k synopsis: i was there for your darkest nights, but i wonder where were you? warning(s): angst w/ comfort, cursing. toxic wooyoung ; sweet yeosang

taglist: @vixensss @gigikubolong29 @xdannix @mrskill2 @hazeljisulatte

You held Wooyoung close, your hands gently rubbing his back as he cried, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. His sobs were muffled against your chest, but the pain was clear in every shake of his body. You softly whispered comforting words, trying to soothe him, but it felt like nothing could ease the hurt he was feeling.

"Hey, it's okay," you whispered, though you knew it wasn't. You wanted to make it better, to take away whatever burden he was carrying, but all you could do was be there for him. "I'm here. I won't leave you."

You continued to hold him, though a quiet ache began to form in your chest. His pain was so raw, so consuming, and you had never turned away from him. Yet, as you looked at him now, your mind wandered to the moments where you had needed him most, and he hadn’t been there. You had always been there for Wooyoung, dropping everything to support him, even when it meant sacrificing your own time and well-being.

But in those moments when you needed him—when you lost your job, when your pet passed away—he wasn’t there. He was somewhere else, lost in his own world, caught up in things that never seemed to involve you in the same way.

Your heart hurt for him, but it hurt for yourself too. You couldn’t help but wonder if he even noticed the gap that had started to form between you two, the quiet resentment building in the corners of your mind. How could you keep giving so much of yourself when he didn’t even seem to notice when you were falling apart?

But as he clung to you, you couldn’t bring yourself to say any of it. Not now, not while he was so vulnerable in your arms. The words you wanted to say felt heavy, trapped in your throat, but you held onto them, unwilling to add another burden to the pile of pain he was already carrying.

"I’m here for you," you whispered again, even though a part of you longed for him to say those words to you someday.

You stood there in the downpour, drenched and shivering, your fingers numb from the cold as you knocked again, desperation growing in your chest. Every raindrop that hit your skin felt like a reminder of the distance between you and Wooyoung, the space that had widened over the months. It had been five long months since you last saw him, five months of silence, of wondering where he was, of questioning if he even remembered you.

You stood there, the weight of everything you had been holding in for so long pressing down on you. Your patience had worn thin, but still, you waited. Your heart thudded in your chest, each second passing like a lifetime.

You rang the doorbell, your thumb pressing against the button with more force than necessary.

Still, no answer.

The rain kept falling, relentless, and you felt your frustration turn to a kind of aching, hollow emptiness. What was this? What had happened to the person who had once meant everything to you? Where was the Wooyoung who had leaned on you for support, who had promised he'd always be there?

You knocked again, louder this time, your voice almost lost in the storm as you called out, "Wooyoung... please."

Your heart squeezed as you fought to hold back the tears. How could he do this? How could he leave you standing in the rain, when you had given so much of yourself to him?

The silence that followed was deafening.

You felt pathetic to be sitting on his stairs, the rain still pouring . You felt sick - physically and emotionally. Your eyelids felt heavy and you nearly did pass out until someone had shake you. You jolted up, to see Yeosang holding an umbrella over the both of you.

“Y/N,” Yeosang said softly, his voice laced with concern as he crouched down beside you. The umbrella he held shielded you from the relentless downpour, though it did little to hide how soaked and fragile you looked. His sharp eyes scanned your face, taking in your pale complexion and trembling form.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his tone firm but not unkind. His free hand gently gripped your shoulder, steadying you as your body swayed slightly.

You blinked up at him, disoriented and exhausted, unsure if it was the rain or the weight of your emotions that had left you so drained. “I...” Your voice cracked, barely audible over the pounding rain. “I needed to see him. Wooyoung…”

Yeosang’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. He glanced at the closed door behind you, his lips pressing into a thin line.

You stood up, nearly fainting as you felt lightheaded. You would of fallen if it wasnt for Yeosang wrapping his strong arms around you.

Yeosang’s grip tightened as he steadied you, his arms firm and unwavering as you leaned heavily against him. “Damn it, Y/N,” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and worry. “What were you thinking? Sitting out here like this?”

You couldn’t find the words to respond. Your body felt weak, trembling as the adrenaline drained away, leaving only exhaustion and the sting of rejection. The rain was still falling, soaking both of you despite the umbrella he tried to hold over you.

“Come on,” Yeosang said, his tone softer now but still edged with urgency. He guided you carefully down the stairs, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upright. Every step felt like a struggle, and you stumbled once, but his hold was unrelenting.

When you reached his car, Yeosang fumbled to open the passenger door, muttering another curse under his breath as the rain continued to pour. He helped you inside, his hands lingering just long enough to make sure you were seated securely before he jogged around to the driver’s side.

As Yeosang slid into the driver’s seat, his jaw clenched, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. The sight of Wooyoung peeking from behind the curtain only to retreat when caught sent a wave of anger coursing through him. He stared at the house for a moment longer, his glare sharp enough to cut through the rain, before letting out a low scoff of disbelief.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

You were too out of it to notice the exchange, your head resting weakly against the seat as you tried to focus on the warmth of the jacket he had wrapped around you. Yeosang glanced at you, his expression softening for a brief moment as he saw how small and vulnerable you looked, before his gaze hardened again.

Without another word, he started the car, the engine’s hum filling the silence as he pulled away from the house. His jaw remained tight, the frustration bubbling under his calm exterior. He wanted to say something, to call out the man who had left you in such a state, but he held back—for now.

Instead, he focused on you, his priority. “We’ll get you warmed up,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the tension he felt. “Then we’ll talk about this.”

The rain continued to fall, but Yeosang’s presence was unwavering, his quiet strength a stark contrast to the bitterness simmering in his chest. Though he didn’t say it aloud, one thing was clear in his mind: Wooyoung had crossed a line, and Yeosang wasn’t going to let it slide.

Yeosang pushed the door open with his shoulder, carrying you into his home with careful, deliberate steps. The rain had eased into a drizzle, but your soaked clothes clung to your body, and your face was pale, lips tinged with a worrisome blue. His heart clenched painfully as he looked at you, limp in his arms, your breathing shallow but steady.

“Y/N…” he murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible over the sound of his boots against the hardwood floor. The sight of you like this—fragile and unresponsive—cut deeper than he expected.

He placed you gently on the couch, his movements precise but trembling as he adjusted a pillow beneath your head. His mind raced as he grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair, draping it over your shivering form. He quickly knelt by your side, his fingers brushing your clammy cheek as he checked for any sign of consciousness.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said, as much to himself as to you, though his voice wavered. The sight of you—someone he cared about so deeply—reduced to this state because of someone who should’ve protected you tore at him.

Yeosang stood abruptly, heading to the kitchen to grab a towel and some water. As he worked to dry your hair, careful not to wake you too roughly, his jaw tightened, the earlier glimpse of Wooyoung at the window flashing through his mind.

How could he? How could Wooyoung stand by and let this happen? The anger simmered beneath Yeosang’s calm exterior, but he forced himself to focus on you. This wasn’t the time to dwell on his frustration. You needed him now, and that was all that mattered.

As he finished, Yeosang sat beside you, his hand resting lightly on your arm. “I’m here,” he whispered, his voice soft but resolute. “I’ll always be here.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the room dimly lit and unfamiliar in your groggy state. The soft fabric of an oversized sweatshirt draped over you, a far cry from the rain-soaked clothes you’d last remembered wearing. The faint scent of spearmint and violets surrounded you, soothing yet foreign, and it took a moment to realize it wasn’t your own scent but someone else’s.

You sniffled, your body feeling heavy, and blinked away the haze clouding your mind. The last thing you remembered was Yeosang’s steady arms holding you as the rain poured down. You glanced around the room, taking in the cozy, lived-in atmosphere—the faint hum of a heater, the soft glow of a lamp in the corner, and the faint sound of dishes clinking in the distance.

The sweatshirt hung loosely on you, and you realized with a jolt that someone had changed your clothes. A pang of embarrassment hit, but it was quickly replaced by gratitude as you recognized the care behind the gesture.

Before you could sit up fully, the door creaked open, and Yeosang stepped in, a warm mug in his hands. His eyes softened when he saw you awake, relief washing over his features.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice gentle but laced with concern. He placed the mug on the bedside table and knelt beside you, his gaze searching yours. “How are you feeling?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but your throat was dry, and you coughed lightly instead. Yeosang immediately grabbed the mug and helped you take a sip. The warmth of the tea soothed you, and you managed to whisper, “Tired… but okay.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening slightly as if holding back a thousand words. “You scared me,” he admitted after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper. “What were you thinking, sitting out there in the rain like that?”

You looked away, the memory of the night flooding back. The humiliation, the heartbreak—it all came crashing down, and your eyes stung with fresh tears. “I didn’t know where else to go,” you mumbled, your voice breaking.

Yeosang reached out, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You don’t have to explain,” he said softly. “I’m just glad you’re safe now.”

Yeosang’s words stumbled over each other, his usual calm composure replaced by an awkwardness that made him seem so much more vulnerable than you had ever seen him. His face flushed a deep shade of red as he avoided your gaze, fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt as if he could somehow distract himself from the situation.

“I, uh... I gave you my spare clothes,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "I—I hope it was alright... I wasn’t sure... uh... how else to—" He trailed off, and his cheeks darkened even more.

You could sense the sudden shift in his demeanor, the slight discomfort now hanging between you. It was endearing in its own way, the normally composed Yeosang now struggling with words, but it also made you chuckle softly, the sound a bit shaky from the emotions still running through you. You wiped the remaining tears away, trying to ease the tension in the air.

“It’s... it’s more than alright,” you reassured him, your voice soft but sincere. " i'm glad it was you - that saw my vulnerable side"

Yeosang blinked, his expression softening at your words. The sincerity in your voice, paired with the vulnerability you had just shared, caused something in his chest to tighten. He hadn’t expected you to open up like this, especially after everything that had happened, and yet here you were, acknowledging the comfort he had offered without hesitation.

“I'm glad it was you, too,” he murmured, his voice low but full of warmth. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to articulate the swirl of emotions that had settled within him. “You don’t have to hide that side of yourself from me... not ever.”

His words were more than just reassurance; they were a promise. A quiet vow that he would always be there when you needed him most, no matter the circumstances.

You met his gaze, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel alone in your struggle. “I… I didn’t want to burden you,” you admitted quietly, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of the blanket beneath you. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

Yeosang smiled, a gentle, understanding expression settling on his face. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You never have been.” His voice was steady, filled with the quiet certainty of someone who genuinely meant it. “I’m always here for you, no matter what.”

Somehow, those words broke apart the tears you were holding back. Your shoulders began to shake as you sobbed. Yeosang was quick to pull you into his arms, rubbing your back as he held you gently, his grip firm yet tender, as if offering a shelter from the storm inside you. His hand moved soothingly along your back, each motion a quiet reassurance that you weren’t alone, that you didn’t have to hold it all in any longer.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice low and steady, a calming presence in the midst of your overwhelming emotions. “You’re not alone. Let it out, Y/N. I’ve got you.”

The sound of your sobs seemed to fill the space between you, but his embrace became the anchor you so desperately needed. You let the tears fall, the weight of everything you’d been carrying crashing down in a torrent of emotion.

It had been so long since you allowed yourself to truly cry, so long since you’d been held in a way that wasn’t fleeting or conditional. With Yeosang, you didn’t feel the need to hide or apologize for your pain. He was simply there, steady and unyielding.

His warmth wrapped around you, the comforting rhythm of his hand on your back grounding you as you released everything you had been holding in—grief, frustration, loneliness—all of it pouring out in the safety of his arms.

" i don't - i dont understand what i did to him yeo. I'm always there for him," you choked out.

You tried to take in a deep breathe but it resulted into another cry.

Yeosang tightened his hold on you, pressing you closer as you trembled in his arms, unable to stop the flood of emotions that overwhelmed you. His heart ached at the raw pain in your voice, the confusion and heartbreak that you couldn’t contain.

“I know, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with empathy. “I know you’ve always been there for him. You’ve given everything to him, and he...” He paused, his chest tightening as he struggled to find the right words. “He doesn’t deserve you, not like this. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You let out another sob, shaking your head as you pulled away slightly, enough to look up at him through tear-filled eyes. “But I always am, Yeo... always there when he needs me. I’m the one who picks up the pieces when he leaves, when he... when he uses me.” Your voice cracked on the last words, and you looked away, unable to face him as the shame of it all hit you anew.

Yeosang’s hand cupped your face gently, guiding you to meet his gaze once more. His eyes were soft, filled with unwavering reassurance. “You’ve never been just something for him to use, Y/N. You’re so much more than that. But he—he’s too selfish to see it, too lost in himself to realize how much you’ve given, how much you care.”

His thumb brushed away a tear that had fallen down your cheek, his voice steady but laced with a quiet fire. “You don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who sees you, truly sees you, and loves you for everything you are.”

You felt a tremor in your chest at his words. They resonated deeply, the ache inside your heart easing just a little. But still, the pain was there. “Why does it hurt so much, Yeosang?” you whispered, your voice small. “Why does it feel like I’m the one losing when I’ve done nothing wrong?”

“Because you care too much, Y/N,” he replied softly. “And that’s not a bad thing. It just makes the hurt that much deeper when it’s not returned the way it should be.”

Yeosang’s heart raced as you leaned into his touch, your tear-streaked face so vulnerable in front of him. The weight of everything that had transpired between you both—the moments of comfort, the quiet understanding—seemed to culminate in the soft, almost magnetic pull that drew you closer to him. His fingers brushed along your lips, as if instinctively tracing the path to your emotions, to your heart.

The soft brush of his fingertips sent a shiver through your skin, and you could feel the warmth between you intensify. His breath caught in his throat as you leaned in closer, his entire body responding to the proximity. The air seemed to thicken, filled with unspoken words and the delicate tension that had been building in the silence.

Before he could think, before his mind could protest, Yeosang closed the distance. His lips met yours gently at first, as if testing the waters, unsure of what this moment meant, but the pressure of the kiss deepened, both of you silently acknowledging the connection that had always been there. The kiss, though tender, held an intensity—raw and genuine—as if it were a release of everything you’d both been holding back.

Yeosang’s hands cradled your face more firmly, his thumb brushing over the tears that had yet to dry, offering comfort and tenderness in the same breath. You responded, your hands instinctively reaching for him, pulling him closer, needing the warmth and closeness more than you had ever realized.

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away—the pain, the confusion, the heartbreak—as you both held on to this fragile, yet undeniable connection. Yeosang’s heart pounded against his chest, and for once, he didn’t feel like he was just protecting you; he was letting himself be vulnerable, allowing himself to feel. The kiss was more than just a release—it was a promise, an unspoken vow that whatever came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, the silence between you was thick with emotion. Yeosang’s gaze was intense, filled with something far deeper than just comfort. He wasn’t just trying to ease your pain; he was offering himself, fully and completely, as someone you could trust, as someone who would be there, no matter what.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

The second kiss was different—it was filled with a sense of certainty, a quiet understanding that, for once, you weren’t alone. Your lips met his with an intensity that was both comforting and freeing, like a weight lifting from your chest. Every lingering doubt, every fear that had once clouded your mind, began to fade as you held on to the moment, as if you and Yeosang were anchoring each other in something stronger than all the pain that had come before.

As the kiss deepened, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over you. In his arms, with his warmth, you knew, without a doubt, that you would be okay. Whatever had happened, whatever would happen next, you weren’t going to have to face it alone. Yeosang was there, and he had proven that with every word, every action, every gesture of care.

Wooyoung stretched out on the couch, his arms draped over the backrest as he stared at the ceiling, the sound of the rain fading into the background. He thought about the call he’d made to Yeosang earlier, the clipped tone in his voice as he told him you were outside in the rain, clearly needing help. He hadn’t even pretended to be concerned—he just wanted someone else to deal with it.

It wasn’t his problem, he told himself. Not tonight, not anymore.

The thought didn’t bother him. Not the way it should have. He knew it made him selfish, knew it painted him as an uncaring asshole, but the truth was, he didn’t care. Why should he? You’d always come back, no matter how many times he failed you. It was a pattern he’d grown comfortable with, even if it meant taking advantage of you.

Wooyoung ran a hand through his hair, staring blankly at the ceiling. The faint patter of rain against the windows filled the silence, but his thoughts were louder, more intrusive. He told himself he didn’t have the energy to deal with you tonight, that it was easier to let Yeosang take care of it. But deep down, he knew the truth.

The caring, dependable friend you always talked about to others? That wasn’t him. He wasn’t the one who showed up when it mattered or offered a shoulder to cry on. That was Yeosang, or Yunho, or anyone else.

And yet, you clung to the idea of him—the version of him you thought existed. The one who cared as deeply as you did. Maybe he should feel guilty for letting you believe that, for feeding into it when it suited him, but he didn’t. It was easier this way. Selfish, sure, but Wooyoung wasn’t interested in changing.

You’d come back. You always did.

A bitter smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned back on the couch, his eyes falling shut. He knew how this would go—how it always went. No matter how far he pushed you, no matter how many times he let you down, you’d still come running the moment he called. All he had to do was make it sound urgent enough, desperate enough, and you’d drop everything for him.

That rush—the thrill of knowing he could summon you with a single word—was intoxicating. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you, he told himself. It was just easier this way, easier to take what you offered without having to give anything back.

The sound of frantic knocking echoed through your apartment, sharp and desperate, pulling you from the heavy haze of exhaustion that had settled over you. Wooyoung's voice called your name, cracking under the weight of his tears, as though this was just another part of your routine—a cycle that never seemed to end.

A frown was place on Wooyoung face when you didn't open up. He pulled his phone out, already calling your phone. Anger took when he reached your voicemail.

Wooyoung pulled the phone away from his ear, glaring at the screen as if it had personally wronged him. The automated message of your voicemail echoed in his mind, each word fueling the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. He clenched his jaw, his fingers gripping the phone tightly as he pressed the redial button.

When it went to voicemail again, he let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Y/N!” he shouted at the door, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “I know you’re in there! Don’t ignore me!”

He banged his fist against the door again, harder this time, his frustration boiling over. The thought that you were deliberately avoiding him only added fuel to the fire. You’d always been there for him before, no matter how badly he treated you. So why now? Why were you shutting him out when he needed you the most?

His mind raced, bouncing between anger and confusion. Was this payback for all the times he hadn’t been there for you? Did you finally realize what everyone else had tried to tell you—that he wasn’t worth it? The idea stung more than he cared to admit, but he shoved it down, masking his vulnerability with irritation.

“Fine!” he yelled, stepping back from the door, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. “If you want to play this game, go ahead! But don’t forget who’s always going to come back to you, Y/N! Don’t think for a second you can just cut me out like this!”

Even as the words left his mouth, they felt hollow. He shoved his phone into his pocket, his hands shaking as he turned on his heel and stormed down the hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last, his anger giving way to an unsettling emptiness.

Deep down, he hated how much he cared—hated that the thought of losing you terrified him more than anything else. But instead of confronting that, he let the bitterness consume him, convincing himself that this was just another fight, another moment you’d both get past.

Because you always did... right?

[jievn]

wooyoung in logbook#164

[nightbeforethend]

“when did you know that I liked you?” // ateez

a/n: and just like that I’m back on my bullshit (begging everyone to ignore any typos, I stayed up far too late making these)

also debuting a couple new contact names ☺️

warning(s): swearing

[seong-star-hwars]

Ateez as tumblr posts - part 5/?

WORK Edition part 1, 2, 3, 4 Bonus!: Cowboy Seonghwa born from an egg

[hwallazia]

XMAS DINNER GOES WRONG – 정우영

⋆ synopsis. it seems like your husband can’t keep it in his pants, not even on a fucking christmas dinner with his family. but, as the lovely wifey you are, you gotta give him some relief, right?

pairing. husband! jung wooyoung & fem! reader.

wc. 3,2k

warnings. smut (mdni!), suggestive language, cussing, almost!! getting caught by wooyoung’s mom (oops), pet names (love, babe, my wife, pretty girl & more), nipple play, wooyoung sucks your entire skin (neck, collarbone, tits and the list can continue…), teasing, wooyoung tears your panties to shreds heh, not dirty—NASTY TALK, begging, yn at some point says “stop” but it’s bc she’s far too blissed out; not bc she actually wanted him to stop, this is alllll consensual!!, unprotected sex, praise ofc, squirting, gut-wrenching fluff in the end ‘cause love him too much.

nic’s notes ⋆ first ff of the xmas event yes sir !! i felt some shit writing this istg (๑/////๑ " )

you know holidays, right?

the perfect opportunity for the entire family to gather and celebrate achievements, blessings, and thousands and thousands of other things. cousins, nephews, aunts, uncles, and even great-grandparents were reunited in that cold and windy winter night. an entire feast was splayed on the table for everyone’s delightfulness, different kinds of foods and smells mixing and creating a delicious, toe-curling experience for anyone’s nostrils.

the hours you had spent shopping for every ingredient for each dish, cutting the vegetables, cooking everything to the exact, perfect point and term really paid off once your and your husband’s family were brought together at the large, dark oak table to celebrate your very first holiday — both families now joined together as one.

nothing could go wrong. the chatting flew as calm and joyful as spring water, sharing experiences and old memories pleasingly, smiles spread like the most enchanting disease—as well as the wholesome ambience, and everything was accompanied by a delightful meal, the well-deserved five star bonus of the evening.

so, if everything was meant to go perfectly, then why the hell was your husband staring at you with the most explicit, sluttiest “fuck me” eyes you’ve ever seen?

wooyoung sat in front of you, his two cousins sitting each on his sides. his plate was rather full, and that had an explanation: he was far too gone and busy burying heart-shaped daggers into your eyes while his hand cupped his cheek, head tilting to his right — his tongue glided over his dry bottom lip every now and then. you’d bet that none of his thoughts were in the bible. ‘cause fuck, even his younger brother would guess that something’s odd about him. that that’s not the usual behavior of his dear older brother.

“yn? darling?” the voice of wooyoung’s mother dragged out quickly of your insulation bubble. her tilted head clearly showed that she had been trying to talk to you for a while. a soft, warming hue of red struck your cheekbones.

as you gyrated your head to meet her worried gaze, you replied. “yes! mrs. jung, ‘m sorry. what were you saying?”

“are you doing fine, sweetie? you were gone for a bit.” she stared at you intently, genuinely worried about her daughter in-law. oh that woman was almost a fallen angel—if not one. if only she knew it was his own son who was to blame—the very last person she’d suspect, and oh, how deliciously ironic that was.

the figure of your husband’s shit-eating grin could be seen out of the corner of your eye—a sight that ignited a fiery rage within you, yet one you couldn’t help but savor, lingering on the view as long as possible before responding to your sweet mother-in-law. “oh, it was nothing. i’m prolly just zoning out because of how tired i am. y’ know, spending the entire day in the kitchen was exhausting.” the cherry on top of the excuse was the little, innocent giggle you emitted by the end. the woman gave you the most pitiful, yet endearing look. she lifted her arm, indicating with her open palm the white stairs, the reflection of the christmas-decorated banister lighting up her eyes.

“oh, sweetheart. you should go rest, it’s pretty late after all.” her gesture softened your heart, chest clenching a bit.

this woman was going to be the death of you! … uhm, never mind. first place is taken by wooyoung, who seems quite excited with the idea of going upstairs with you, by the way. take a guess at what his mind is scheming.

you shook your hands in front of your chest, quickly denying the opportunity. “thank you really, but i’m okay. i’ll just go wash my face.” you excused yourself, hovering your leg over the other and getting yourself up. “maybe that way i can wake up completely.” ending with a little giggle, you started walking towards the staircase when suddenly, the voice of your dear husband rang inside your ears.

“excuse me. i’ll go help my wife.” his foxy eyes curved into crescent moons, and his lips stretched wide, forming an upward line. oh fuck, you were done for.

“oh yes, i was about to ask you to do the same. please, son.” she stated, nodding approvingly. oh what a gentleman she had raised.

you resumed your steps quickly, arriving to the second floor in less than you expected. you turned your head, only to be met with an empty corridor. thank goodness he hadn’t gotten there yet.

or so you thought. ‘cause when you refocused your attention to your front, a pair of arms grabbed you by your waist and swung you around the air in a swift motion as he dragged you to an empty room. the last sound heard in the corridor was the slam of a closing door.

your breathless body was pinned against a cold wall, trapped between two quite familiar, tanned arms. simultaneously, your disoriented irises tried to adjust to the darkness of the room and focus on the feverish, hungry eyes standing in front of you.

“wh… what the fuck was that.” you muttered as the remains of your breath flew away. wooyoung seemed enchanted by your current state though.

“heeey, don’t curse at me like that.” his gentle, cocky voice penetrated your mind like a bullet. knuckles crept up the sides of your exposed arms, providing soothing strokes — goosebumps prickled to life in response. he opened his warm palms and reached to your also bare shoulder, massaging them. “after all, ’m jus’ here to help you.” he pulled his secret weapon and started making out with your neck, licking your flesh like a starving man and spreading wet kisses all over it.

“help me? how are you helping me like this?” you uttered as your breath hitched, head leaning to the side at the right angle to give him enough space.

wooyoung sucked that sensitive spot that always made your eyes roll to the very back of your head, dragging a whine out of you successfully. his chuckle and victorious smirk didn’t go unseen by your already blissed-out self. he leaned back a little to admire you. just for a bit, palms not leaving their place. “you’ll know when we’re done.” his hands moved in a swift motion, arms wrapping around your thighs and shoulders, lifting you effortlessly in a princess carry. “for now, just shut up and enjoy it, hm?”

“w-wooyoung—you know we can’t do this now— angh!” your anxious, flustered self made a futile attempt to reason with wooyoung, hoping he’d remember that both your families were gathered downstairs for a fucking christmas dinner—while he, entirely unbothered, seemed more than eager to spend the evening thoroughly ruining you in the bed just one floor above. and that was clearly shown when he threw you to the bed as if you were the lightest feather and immediately crawled to you.

“c’mon, love. i just wanna help you stay awake” his gravelly voice purred gift next to your ear as his taunting hands played with the sides of your dress, fingertips aching and itching to rip it off you.

he had you underneath him, completely flustered and nervous. he knew you were really anxious about the dinner—you’d spent a whole hour straight ranting about how nerve-wracking the preparations were, only to end up feeling physically ill from the overwhelming surge of dopamine flooding your system. but your reddened cheeks were smiling at him and your plump lips were whispering nasty things to him. holy fuck, how couldn’t he be tempted?

he needed to be balls deep in you. now.

his skillful tongue found home in your neck and collarbone, sucking cute love bites all over. but, your body was still tense, too uneasy at the thought of the possible scenario of someone entering the room and catching the two of you in such a compromising position.

“b-babe, please—hmph”

in a sultry tone, he muttered, “already begging. so fucking cute.” a smirk was drawn on his lips before his hands reached to your cleavage and popped your tits out of your low-cut dress. “y’ want me to fuck you? ‘s that what it is?”

before you could even think of an answer, he dived right into your breasts, licking your sensitive nipples as though they were his favorite toy — because they absolutely were.

god, the incessant thoughts that ran through your head and his tongue lapping around your buds were too much. everything was starting to be too much, and he hadn’t even taken your clothes off. with heightened sensitivity, your lips fell open and a beautiful, sweet melody of your moans and whimpers escaped through them — a delightful melody for your husband’s ears.

impatient hands stripped you of your glittery dress, leaving you with nothing but your black, thin panties. wooyoung took a moment for himself — well, more accurately for you, to admire and revel in your beauty as he should. a rush of blood surged to his cock, making it throb even harder than before. he was no more than a man, overwhelmed by desire. “you’re fucking irresistible, y’ know that?” he started down to where your and his crotch connected, brows furrowing when he saw your clothed pussy. “i think it’s time for this to go.”

a sharp rrrrrip! bounced through the walls and brought your attention. “woo did you just—?!” you followed the movement of his hands, which discarded the shreds of black fabric to the floor. “that was my—! hahh” and his thumb flew right to your already swollen clit, stimulating it with circling motions.

“why’re you whining when you know i’ll buy you ten more pairs,” he whispered as he soaked in the unsteady shiftiness of your body — and for that, he posed a strong yet harmless grip on your waist. his fat thumb worked nonstop over your bud, sending sparks right to it. your body jolted upward at the feeling of his middle and index fingers tracing soft lines up your pink folds. the sight of your walls clenching and relaxing around nothing spun him. “ooh, what a greedy wifey i got.” he chuckled under his breath, gaze stuck to his home — and i mean your cunt. “sooo desperate for my fingers, huh?”

at this point, any sense or unsteady thought had already vanished away, completely replaced by a selfish state of mind. you wanted him to finger you, fuck you, drive you insane. and you wanted it right fucking now. and so you mewled, “god, please just do something.”

“got the name wrong, darling.” and with that, he pushed two fingers at once inside your fluttering walls, tugging a satisfied moan out of you. “it’s wooyoung. or hubby” he giggled. he fucking giggled as he rammed those fingers mercilessly, shooting stars and fireworks filling your vision.

“w-wait stop— baby, please— fffuck!” stuttering words and incoherent gibberish spilled from your swollen lips, too red and slick from how often and harshly you’d bitten them; eyes welling up with tears from the intense pleasure overload.

“stop?” a chuckle rumbled through his chest. “fine then” he withdrew his long phalanges, leaving you empty. completely fucking empty, with velvety and throbbing walls already missing him. you cried as you felt the void of your pulsating pussy, but before you could coax a desperate “please” from your lips, wooyoung grabbed you by the waist. you gasped, as he manhandled you, positioning you on top, naked folds grazing his clothed sex.

you pouted and wooyoung laughed. he was finding this shit way too funny. “since you so nicely begged me to stop, then put your back into it, mm?” a loud smack! reverberated through the walls as his heavy palm landed on the flesh of your ass. “fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl.”

and did he have to tell you twice. desperate, shuddering hands worked on his dress pants, quickly undoing his belt and zipping it down just enough to uncover his rock-hard bulge. you grabbed the band of his boxers and pulled it down as well, his cock springing finally free. with a smooth movement, you took his member and positioned it below you. and just before you sit down on him completely, someone knocked on the fucking door.

the surprise caused you to jolt and lose control, sinking in a faster and sloppier motion than you intended — a loud cry resonating through the thin walls the moment his tip kissed your cervix perfectly. with eyes wide open, you slapped a hand over your mouth, cursing yourself for being so fucking noisy and sensitive and—

“yn? are you in here?” the muffled voice of wooyoung’s mother echoed from the other side of the door.

shit shit shit.

“y-yes, ma’am! i… ’m kinda busy over in here—ugh!” you tried to speak as loud and clear as you could, but wooyoung seemed to be unbothered by your efforts since he grabbed your hips and started swaying your core up and down his girth. up, down, up, down.

you stared at your husband with glaring eyes, stabbing knives into his. fuck, did this man even care about being heard by his own mother? now, with all doubts gone, you’re certain you’ve married a freak.

“are you okay, sweetie? what’s going on over there?”

and you swear you heard the door creaking open, so you exclaimed. “no! everything’s fine!” you yelped, your voice higher-pitched than you intended. “please don’t come in.”

wooyoung chuckled underneath you, soaking in the sight of your nervous self trying to mute your cries as your tits bounced right on his face. he could die right there and then and he’d be happy. “what’s wrong, baby? can’t take it?” he whispered as he gazed directly into your tightly scrunched eyes, your partially open mouth releasing nothing more but silent cries and pleas.

“fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” you hushed soundlessly, yet willingly bouncing up and down his length. the low, manly giggle he uttered spun you. fuck, he had you wrapped up around his finger.

“oookay? uhm, do you know where my son is? is he there with you?”

he grinned. that shit-eating grin you hated so damn much appeared all across his face. “c’mon pretty, tell her the truth. tell her how good i’m fucking you, how good you’re taking my cock, hm?” he growled into your ear, his voice low and raspy, sending shivers down your spine. the sound was intoxicating, clouding your thoughts and turning your mind into mush.

your throbbing walls clenched around him subconsciously, his head rocking back in reaction. “he’s… he’s here with me, h-helping me like he said he would.”

wooyoung seemed utterly satisfied by your answer, his grin only spreading wider. “that’s my wife. so beautiful.”

“perfect then! i’ll see you in a bit then.” after those words, no other sound was heard — other than the wet clapping of your flesh against his hips.

“‘s she gone?” your half-lidded eyes stared down at your husband, who was hugging you by the waist, face deeply buried in your bobbing, soft tits. your hands flew to the back of his head, cupping his neck whilst caressing his raven hair fondly. at your words, his head lifted, and took a glance at your divine expression.

“baby, i didn’t care, not even a second, if she was hearing or not.” his intoxicating, dark irises sent love letters to yours, utterly drunk in love. “i jus’ wanna cum inside your sweet pussy.”

skillful fingers crept to your hardened, overstimulated nipples and all the way down where your bodies collided, positioning right on your clit. his left hand stroked your firm nipple and played with one breast, letting wooyoung’s tongue take care of the other whilst his right hand shifted rapidly over your bundle of nerves.

he fell in love with you again as he saw your back arching into a perfect crescent moon. “good girl.” your loud whines and moans only encouraged him to keep going. “so responsive to me.” he exhaled breathlessly. “fuck, are you about to cum, baby?”

“y-yeah, fuck— woo, i-i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna fucking cum” you yelped as your bounces became sloppier, more desperate and more reckless. wooyoung motivated you by whispering sweet things and heart-melting praises right into your ear.

“cum, baby. cum for me, milk me dry.” and with one last bounce, you sprayed your juices all over him, soaking his pants and white shirt even more.

exasperated grunts and exhales left your husband’s mouth at the sensation of your folds clamping down on him — you definitely understood the assignment of milking him dry. ‘cause your pussy received the hot ropes of cum that his dick spurted out with great pleasure, sucking the life out of his poor, now softened length.

you crumbled down on him, your weakened core landing on top of him with his dick still inside you. your head found home in the crook of his neck as his hand reached to your back, wrapping your waist safely whilst the other provided soothing ministrations to your face. with your last ounce of strength, you pulled the sheets over your naked bodies, an even warming sensation drowning the both of you.

“fuck” was all you could mutter. “how’re we going to get back there, they’re waiting for us.”

wooyoung hummed thoughtfully, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and brushing against your skin. “we could pretend we fell asleep. with that, they shouldn’t suspect a thing.”

“hey that’s actually a great id—“

the door creaked open and your bodies jerked softly. the both of you knew exactly what to do, so your eyes flew shut. wooyoung even started snoring quietly to add a spec of realism to the scene.

the sound of your mothers’ voice echoed through your ears. “she said wooyoung was helping… her” wooyoung’s mom immediately lowered her voice as she took in the scene. an almost soundless aww escaped your mom’s lips.

“well sure he was helping her.” your mother sighed at the wholesome moment she had the luck of appreciating.

“i think he was massaging her. ‘cause when i knocked on the door, i could hear like— muffled sounds, that seemed like moans.” she stated, and you froze in place — well, not like you could move an inch. “at first i was confused, but then she clarified that wooyoung-ah was helping her “like he said he would”” she remarked your words as if she had studied them.

“oh i see.” your mother spoke. “i think we should let them sleep. my poor yn had a long day.”

and with that, the door shut closed with a soft click.

wooyoung giggled under the covers as your face burned from the embarrassment.

“massaging? well, that’s a way to put it.”

“wooyoung, babe, as much as i love you, please shut the fuck up.”

he laughed wholeheartedly, a gut-wrenching sound that never fails to make you smile. “you embarrassed, my love?”

you slapped your open palm against his exposed chest as you whined. “stoppp.”

his small, soft giggle buzzed inside your eardrums before he left on the top of your head a kiss full of fondness and affection. “cutie.”

| masterlist

[minkieater]

when another member walks in on you ateez ot8 x fem!reader

silly little thing i wrote between clients today

smut below the cut! mdni ↓ dom/sub dynamics, exhibitionism, oral sex, p in v lol, lmk if i missed anything !!

hongjoong ☄️

“shut up slut, they’ll hear you. i bet you want that, don’t you?” he had your face buried in your mattress, drool slipping from your mouth, your ass up in the air where he was relentlessly drilling  into you. 

you moaned, you had stopped caring about your volume long ago, they would hear hongjoong’s thrusts before your moans anyhow. you clenched around him, only making him hiss out and reach over to push your head impossibly farther into the mattress. 

you pissed him off— you got a little too close to wooyoung, talked for a little too long and hongjoong was livid. 

“you want him to hear you, don’t you? want him to hear all the pretty sounds you make? showing off, huh? attention whore,” his words were venom, his lips inches from your ear with how he bent over you, foot planted on the mattress beside your shoulder. 

“are you guys oka— oh shit, i’m so sorry,” hongjoong lets go of your head only for the two of you to snap your faces up to the intruder, hongjoong stilling inside of you.

“what the fuck?” was all hongjoong could get out, a stunned wooyoung in the doorway, his jaw on the floor at the sight in front of him. “wooyoung! get out!” 

“it didn’t sound like you were fucking! i got scared,” you heard wooyoung yell as he closed the door behind him, leaving hongjoong to pick right back up where he left off. 

“don’t think i missed how you clenched around me, whore.”

seonghwa 🫧

seonghwa had you on your knees while he sat on the bed, leaned back on one arm with the other around your ponytail, guiding you up and down his length. 

in a black tank top and gray sweatpants he looked so fucking sexy in the living room, you couldn’t help but pull him into his bedroom for a minute alone — you needed to taste him, show him how much he affected you. 

“fuck, you’re so good at that,” his words were quiet, a low rasp to his voice as he tugged on your hair a little harder. your mouth slipped off of him with a pop, batting your eyelashes up at him with a knowingly coy smile.

he groaned, a little louder this time, his head falling back. “don’t look at me like that or your throat’s getting fucked.” 

you giggled, mouth attaching to him again, bobbing your head up and down a little faster now. he bucked his hips up little by little, using more force with each stroke and you took him proudly, small gags and noises of nasty wetness leaving your lips.

the door opened without either of you noticing, only catching a head of brown hair leaving seonghwa’s bedroom with a shriek of surprise. this wasn’t the first time yeosang had walked in on you, but it still made you laugh every damn time.

you looked up to seonghwa with a giggle on your lips after popping off him again, seonghwa wearing a smile himself.

“how many times do you think we’ll scar him before he stops coming in here?” seonghwa asks, letting go of your ponytail.

“if he was going to catch on, he would’ve by now,” you readjusted yourself on your knees during the pause, shaking your head before bringing your focus back on his delicious length before you. “you said something about fucking my throat right?”

yunho 🧍🏻‍♂️

you and yunho had been waiting for a day alone for weeks. for too long had you been silenced in the hours from one to three, his fingers clamped over your lips or stuffed between them in an attempt to keep you quiet. comeback season was busy, and when there was time off everyone lazed around the dorms and didn’t fucking leave. 

now, on your third consecutive day off, the dorms were empty and yunho took advantage. he had your hands pinned under your back with a belt he had just taken off, hips snapping into you so hard the sound was sure to be heard outside. 

“sloppy little cunt sucking me right the fuck in,” he hissed, hips cracking into your thighs, his fingers keeping you still.

you were wailing at this point, tears streaming down your face, begging for reprieve while also thinking if he stopped you’d die. 

“don’t stop,” you repeated, a mantra on your tongue, from your hips being slanted upward his cock was hitting that spongy spot in your walls that drove you fucking insane. 

you were so close, mere thrusts away from hitting your peak, and the door busted open, an out of breath mingi stood at the door.

“the rest of the guys are walking in right behind me,” mingi’s words were panicked in a warning, but yunho didn’t stop. he ignored his friend, knowing you were so close, wanting your high to crash over you so he could follow. 

you screamed — mingi couldn’t move. yunho fucked you through it, thrusts only quickening to meet his own end, until he doubled on top of you with two large hands landing right beside your head. 

yunho turned to look at mingi, a smirk playing on his lips with heaving breaths, “enjoyed the show?” 

yeosang 👥

everyday yeosang woke you up the same way: his fingers or his head between your thighs until you were creaming around him, then he replaced it with his cock. it wasn’t a good morning until you had at least one, if not two orgasms. 

this morning he was greedy— it seemed he didn’t want to let you go. you came on his face once, his fingers a second time, and he was working you up to a third on his lap. if yeosang could do anything it was last, his stamina was like no other, he could go for hours if you let him. 

you had your knees planted on the mattress beside his hips, his cock hitting your cervix continuously as you grind your hips back and forth against him, your nails clawing at his shoulders. his head was leaning against the headboard, leaving his throat open to you, where you licked and sucked pretty little bruises across the base of his neck, little whines leaving his throat.

“yes, baby, ‘m so close,” he croaked out, his voice raspy and deep, his abs clenching with every grind of your hips. 

“cum for me then yeo, fill me up,” your hand moved from his shoulder to wrap your fingers around his neck, pulling him towards you to connect your chest to his.

your mornings weren’t usually so filthy, never downright nasty, bringing your skin to touch his brought a sense of intimacy back to your morning. 

his head fell onto your shoulder with a groan, filling you up just as you told him to, thighs twitching beneath you. you moaned at the feeling, letting your head rest atop his, bringing your hands to tangle in his hair. 

“you guys awake yet?” seonghwa popped into your room, making you twist your body around to look at him, eyes wide.

“definitely awake,” he pulled his lips into a line, bidding you a singular nod before closing the door again. a huff of amusement left your lips as you looked back down to the boy laying on your shoulder, patting his head, giving him a moment to come back before you’d take your morning shower together.

san 🚪

san couldn’t wait. you were at your favorite club, both tipsy and horny, dancing to the beat of the song before san’s fingers dipped below your dress. you looked up to him with wide eyes, met with a filthy smirk and a pair of dimples that ushered you towards the men’s bathroom. 

“san, anyone could walk in,” you were uneasy, san was never so impatient that he needed you then and there. he’d never portrayed signs of exhibitionism before today, your sex life had always been private — you liked it that way, yet the hunger in his eyes and the spark left in the wake of his fingers on your skin made you excited. 

“let them see how good i fuck you then,” he hummed, fingers flipping up your dress, plunging into your core that was so wet he slipped in. the squelch of his fingers was deafening, you thanked god the bathroom was empty. 

he stuffed you into a stall, fingers still curling into you before he slipped your panties to the side, replacing his fingers with his cock. the pace he set was brutal, your hands bracing the wall above the toilet as he fucked into you from behind, hips slapping into your ass. 

you fought to keep your moans inside, pointless as the sound of skin slapping would overpower them anyway. san groaned, “knew you’d be wet, naughty girl. you were basically begging me to fuck you on the dance floor for everyone to see.” 

a whine escaped you, nails clawing against the tile of the wall. he slipped a hand around your hips, coming between your legs, rubbing your clit at a pace he knew would have you coming in seconds 

“fuck, san, harder please,” you breathed out, head dipping below your arms, hanging between them. 

he listened, quickening his pace, fucking you somehow harder than he was before. his fingers worked in a quick rhythm, making the pit in your stomach grow until you were overflowing on his dick.

“yeah, that’s it, baby. cum all over my cock,” he was drunk off your pussy, words slurring together, keeping his pace on your clit to ride you through it. 

when you were twitching from overstimulation he emptied himself inside you, head falling to the center of your spine. there was nothing but the sound of heavy breaths in the public restroom, you and san catching your breath and your sanity before he flipped your dress back down and zippered himself back up.

when you left the stall, jongho was washing his hands at the sink, barely giving you a glance as you stepped into view. 

“how long have you been in here?” san asked, a pink rising to his cheeks, looking like a completely different person than he had moments ago.

“unfortunately, long enough. broke the seal so i had no choice,” jongho shrugs as he grabs paper towels, drying off his palms. “make sure you two wash your hands.” 

mingi 🫶

the say my name stage always fucked you up, it never failed. being on stage period always fucked mingi up, that never failed either. it was safe to say that your post-show routine was always fucking backstage, it happened every stop, every show, you lost count of how many dressing rooms in foreign countries you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life in.

what was abnormal was mingi not waiting until the show was over. always professional, mingi waited until everyone was no longer sprinting around backstage with mini-fans and makeup brushes to touch up the eight boys before they had to head back out onstage. 

as he came off the stage, his walk was fast paced, precise. it would’ve scared you if you didn’t know what it meant. his fingers hooked around your arm, dragged you further backstage, and had you in a random closet in a stadium completely foreign to you. 

he was quick to split you open, granted say my name was within their first set so you were already dripping by the time he made it between your legs. 

“always so ready for me,” he mumbled out, zeroed in on your center but eyes still not fully clear. in his post performance haze he was always rougher, selfish, not a care in the world for you. it was your favorite. 

“put it in,” you barked out, hips bucking toward him and he was sheathed within seconds. giving you no time to get used to the stretch you wheezed, head lolling onto his shoulder, and he let loose. 

he fucked you stupid, you joined him in whatever haze his brain was under as he pounded into you, hips clapping into the silence of the dark storage room. you heard footsteps outside but mingi made no moves to halt his thrusts, only focused on one thing, getting the two of you off before he had to go back onstage. 

“are you fucking?” yunho’s voice wasn’t clear until he had the door open, light cascading into the storage room, yours and mingi’s necks snapping to look at the intruder.

he was smirking — he knew what he was walking into yet he did it anyway. you and mingi both smiled cheshire grins as yunho stepped inside the storage room, quickly slamming the door shut behind him. 

“why didn’t you invite me?”

wooyoung 🐈‍⬛

wooyoung had you splayed out on the bed, legs bent up with his head between them. eating you out was adjacent to your meditation time, as he calls it, it's his favorite way to wind down. after a long day, after a short day, during his day, it didn’t matter when. wooyoung was always down to eat you out, eager even — he is a man not above begging. 

your chin was shot back, eyes screwed tight, wooyoung had made you cum on his tongue twice so far and he was nowhere near finished. 

after eating you through your second orgasm his licks had slowed down, easing up his pressure, making his tongue soft and pliable instead of hard and pointed. 

soft moans left your lips, he knew by now how to work you through overstimulation, lazily licking at your clit until your moans turned to whines once more.

“taste so fucking good, could eat this pussy all night,” his eyes were fully closed, he was in a dream. between your legs was his happy place, he’d die there a happy man, he’d admitted it more than once. more than ten times, at least. 

when he noticed your breaths getting shorter and your moans shifting to a higher pitch he was sharp with his movements, picking up his pace, licking up your folds and sucking on your clit with swollen lips. 

hongjoong bounced through the door, “hey wooyo, you- jesus fucking christ!” 

your legs snapped shut, closing over wooyoung’s head and he pried himself out of your cage with painted fingertips, jumping up to face hongjoong at the door.

“what?” wooyoung asked, palm swiping at his chin.

“i’m scarred,” hongjoong muttered, voice horrified with hands covering his eyes. your hands fled for the blankets, pulling them over your body with a speed you weren’t expecting to have to use. 

“what do you want, joong?” wooyoung asked, rushed yet still casual, sitting on his knees. his abdomen was clenched, muscles on display as he twisted backward, you didn’t even care that hongjoong was in the room. 

“i was going to ask if you had a spare pair of headphones,” his voice was barely above a squeak, hands still covering his eyes.

“oh, yeah i do, here, they’re my sony 1000MX—”

“i don’t give a fuck wooyoung, give them to me so i can leave.”

jongho 🧸

you were hanging out with jongho in the dance practice room as he practiced the same routine again, the fifth time tonight.

he groaned in frustration after missing a step again, the same step he’s missed the past four times he’s gone through the routine. his hands cover his face, dragging down his cheeks.

you get up from your spot on the floor, making your way in front of him, grabbing his hands to hold in yours.

“why don’t you stop for the night?” you tilt your head, nothing but warmth in your eyes as you stare into his, cold and irritated. 

“i need to get this fucking right,” his lips are pursed, his eyebrows are knit together as he barks, “i need to clear my head.” 

within minutes he had you on your hands and knees atop the hardwood floor, bodies facing the mirror that spread across the wall, forcing you to watch yourself as he fucked you stupid. 

“see that?” he smirked at you through the mirror, fingers tight on your hips, “nothing but a cocksleeve whenever i want it, so willing for me.” 

his words were cool and calm, almost a threat on his lips as he abused your core. your eyebrows were tangled and your mouth hung open, knees and palms burning from the pressure against the harsh wood. 

“yes, just for you,” you manage to choke out between thrusts, body jolting forward with each thrust. 

“that’s right baby,” he nods, his smile turning villainous, only fucking into you harder as he spits, “such a fucking whore, letting me fuck you in public like this.” 

you nod, eyes screwed shut, “d-don’t fucking stop.” 

his chuckle is deep, his thrusts losing their rhythm, “you want it? want me to fill this filthy pussy up?” 

the door to the practice room opens, san strolls inside with a smile on his face before he sees the two of you — he shrieked. “what the fuck!?” 

jongho stilled, laying himself atop your body, trying to cover you as best he could. his words come out nervous, “get the fuck out!”

san slips back out of the door, then peeks his head back in, “wait, when are you gonna be done? i want to practice.” 

“san!” 

masterlist

[jenoddity]