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asherthehimbo · 2 months ago

Text

Guardians

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synopsis: when Yeosangs sickness worsens, the Hala-pack are forced to stay in unkown territory, all because their wolves had affections for the towns local doctor. They hope this doctor knows how to treat fish because Yeosang needs help, and his brothers are desperate.

word count: 8.3k (and 4 pictures)

warnings: Cursing, blood, knives(daggers), treating of wounds, treating of sickness, talks of death, screaming, possesive behavior kind of?, blood (obv cause wounds), suggestive thoughts (Mingi needs to FOCUS), mentions of torn snouts, old scars, uhm i think thast it?

notes: to those who don't know what a poet shirt is this is the specific shirt I'm referencing, Also PLEASE read the section named 'Guardians knowledge' for better understanding of refrences in the book itself before reading this chapter thank youuu (Guardians book of knowledge was DEFINITELY inspired by the books in the 'Grimm' series so anybody who watches that HIIIIII), also PLEASE remember to read the Creature lore to understand some things as this IS a fantasy book with my own lore for some creatures thank youuuu

Placing the clear, blue rimmed glass down on the placement cloth in front of you, you throw the drying cloth in your hands on your shoulder. Long white hair tied up lazily at the back of your head, white poet shirt hanging off your shoulders, its strings by your chest having been loosened the moment you bid farewell to your last patron for the night. Your necklace consisting of a dull orange fire stone remains barely concealed beneath your white shirt, its chain placed comfortingly around your neck. The angle your shirt is sitting may expose more of your chest than you would usually feel comfortable with showing in public, but currently it's only you and the Choi’s at the tavern.

‘Moon Tavern’ - the tavern you own- is open 24/7 on weekends, but closes at 11 pm on weeknights, for you have to ensure those on your side of the land, those in your village are ready the next morning for their duties. Unfortunately for your regulars it's a Thursday night, meaning closing time. Meaning cleaning up duty for you and those on your shift. You turn your head and scan around you, looking down both sides of the bar counter to ensure no glasses or coasters are left laying around before your eyes trail to the middle of the tavern where the Choi’s sit waiting for you.

Choi Beomgyu, a young man of 22 who you met when he was only 17, being banished to Obsidian, due to his seeing abilities, when the war came to an end, he became your second ever apprentice. Next to him sits Choi Yeonjun at the age of 24, a snake shifter who followed his friend all the way from their homeland and ended up right in your welcoming embrace.

They both work as waiters at the tavern, sometimes even performing with the band, always insisting on helping you close when you man the bar on night shifts- but never doing the same for your co-owner, you know the reason but pay it no mind.

Cracking your neck before stretching your hands above your head, your back curls in as your chest pushes out, causing the strings of your shirt to loosen even more. Beomgyu wolf-whistles from where he sits as Yeonjun starts chastising you for your actions. “I've told you so many times that that's not healthy Boss, if you’re having pain problems again you need to let Niki or Gyu look at you.” Yeonjun looks at you with a mock scolding gaze.

You scoff, finishing your stretch before looking at the boy- not man, boy because compared to someone of your age that is what he is, a boy, one of your boys. “And I've told you many times not to call me Boss, guess neither of us listen to the other'' you bite back before removing the cloth from your shoulder, placing it on the drying pole attached to the bottom of the bar counter on your end.

“Touche” Yeonjun replies as both he and Beomgyu stand up while you walk out from behind the bar, picking up your jacket and keys that was on the counter, the three of you start walking to the front door as you turn off all the lanterns you walk by, “well, I, for one, was delighted by the show given- so I humbly thank you” Beomgyu gives an over dramatic bow as he speaks, causing Yeonjun to roll his eyes and your lips to quirk up ever so slightly.

The three of you walk until you're outside the tavern, you make sure to lock it before you continue walking, there's a cold breeze tonight, almost calming as it nips at the parts of your exposed skin, the boys behind you shiver and snuggle more into their own jackets as they walk, one on each side of you, you on the other hand do not falter in your steps. Despite your love of warmth you've grown quite accustomed to the cold nights that seem to accompany the dark sky of Obsidian.

You reach the part in your path where you and the boys should split, while they live more to the center of the town, in a neighborhood along with the rest of your pack, your home is located on the outskirts next to the river that separates your land between its two regions. You turn to say goodbye but catch Beomgyu staring at you in a worried manner, his eyes glowing a faint- barely noticeable purple “The water will shine a luminous blue tonight as nature’s soldier will be hurt, and the singers rock will form” you tilt your head inquisitively but when he doesn't say anything else you leave it be.

Seers cannot control the amount of information they are given and Beomgyu would've told you if there was something else. You nod your head in understanding before placing your hand on his shoulder, you look down at him and smile in a reassuring way, “I’ll be safe, don’t worry my little videns “ Beomgyu’s head tilts to rest on your hand at your words.

“I don’t know if I’m fine with letting you walk home alone now..” Yeonjun looks like he’s contemplating following you as he bites the inside of his cheek but you quickly shut him down, “Jun, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, you two need to get home, you have a shift tomorrow morning”. Yeonjun huffs “Yeah with Tea-moo, I don’t think either of us really mind being late for that one” he rolls his eyes as his arms are crossed over his chest, pouting like a child. “He’s still your leader Jun, you should respect him” you scold the boy, knowing your words won't have any impact now as they hadn't before, not on this topic.

“You’re our leader Boss, he’s the guy who you let be the leader and we both know it.” Yeonjun’s distaste for Tea-moo was never a secret, it caused a lot of tension in your pack, but neither he nor Tea-moo made an effort to fix the strain. “Jun I’m not having this conversation again.” you reply sternly, “I’m going home, you two need to do the same. Niki is probably waiting for you and I don’t want him staying up too late we have lessons tomorrow”

Niki, your first apprentice, your little shadow dragon, your son. He lives with you most of the time but often spends nights over at the Choi’s, the three of them act like brothers and it comforts your heart to know they have each other. You’re currently busy teaching Niki everything you know as the boy wants to follow in your footsteps, become a healer and not a destroyer as shadow dragons are often depicted.

“Fine, but if anything feels wrong even in the slightest the you scream, alright” Yeonjun needs that reassurance at least. “I doubt something to that extent will happen Jun”, you don’t want to promise him you would, because a banshee’s scream is a deafening one, it’s not something to be used lightly and something you've only used a handful of times. “Promise me” he does not relent.

“If it gets to that extent, I will scream to alert you.” You nod to him and his tense shoulders seem to relax a little. As Beomgyu lifts his head from your hand on his shoulder both of them come closer to hug you as a goodbye. You hate lying, but you know you won't scream, to resort to such measures is simply not something you're capable of doing. You’ve only used your scream once in your life, and you dread something of the like happening again.

You watch as they walk the opposite direction, walking as one, two halves of a whole. A feeling of contentment stirs in you, despite whatever Beomgyu’s vision foretold you know they’ll be safe, and that's all you could ask for.

“No”, Mingi’s voice is firm, almost angry sounding as his jaw clenches in an effort to not yell at the others in the room. “I told you all, he’s mine-'' his words are interrupted with Yunho’s introjection of "ours” ‘-He’s ours, I’m not bringing you guys to him.” Mingi finishes.

He’s standing with his back leaning against the wall, everyone is gathered in the kitchen, most sitting, except for Yunho- who's standing right next to Mingi- and San who's standing behind Wooyoung. “Mingi, Yeosang is sick, he needs help and it’s something nobody here knows how to deal with. We can’t travel with him in this condition so we are stuck on this island- one that isn't our territory. You say this guy is a doctor, he might know how to help. San’s knowledge of herbs can only get us so far.” Hongjoongs voice is calm as he tries to reason with Mingi, but you can hear the sharp edge of authority it holds as he sits at the head of the table.

“A human doctor, yes, how do we know he’ll be able to help Yeosang?” Yunho’s voice isn’t as strained with anger as Mingi’s, but you can hear his hesitance. ”He lives in a region known for harboring two of the most regal packs, I’m quite sure he’s probably aware of our species, may have even encountered many, he may know at least something that could help us, or point us in the direction of someone who could.” Seonghwa says as he sits beside Hongjoong, his voice flows calm, a sharp contrast to their leaders iciness’ Seonghwas reflects the warmth that’s permanently buried in his chest, but everyone can tell he’s just as worried about Yeosang.

Yunho’s stomach churns at the idea of you having met, let alone interacted with other supernatural creatures as Mingi lets out a low grumble in discontempt. “Listen, I know you guys have some weird possession kink or something over this guy, but Yeosang needs help. Do you really want him to die simply because you couldn't control your jealousy for a few hours?” Jongho asks, annoyed and his words cut deep.

Yunho turns to Mingi, while Yunho may be hesitant he doesn't want Yeosang to die. But Mingi has known you longer, there's a sort of seniority there, Yunho knows how much you mean to Mingi. Fuck you mean just as much to him, but he knows how Mingi’s mind works, he knows he’s not the one that gets to make this decision. Mingi in turn is stone faced, but Yunho can tell he’s conflicted. “Just for a check up? Nothing more?” Mingi asks, voice seeking confirmation in the same vulnerable way a child would from a parent, and the whole room takes a breath of relief.

“Only a check up, we only want to know if he can figure out what’s going on with Yeosang” Hongjoong confirms. After a moment of silence, and another shared look with Yunho, Mingi speaks again “Fine, but you let me and Yunho go in first, explain to him the situation. He doesn't know about us, about this, I want to explain to him first, I need to. Need to have him hear it from me”

The others all nod in agreement as they move to get ready to take Yeosang to your place. Mingi can’t help the anxiety building within him, he doesn't know what he’d do if you hate him after this. Even worse if you’re scared of him after this. He doesnt think he could go on living if you were. He hates the idea, the thought of losing you, loathes it even.

Mingi walks into the room where Yeosang lays on the bed, his skin sickly pale, unnatural and different from the usual light tan the siren has. His lips are chapped and parts of his skin are molting, eye’s closed as he’s barely breathing. San is holding a cold water cloth to his forehead in an effort to try and cool down the sirens fever. Jongho sits at the other side of the bed, he’s taken Yeosang’s sickness the hardest besides Wooyoung and San, solidarity in species and all. Mingi looks at Wooyoung who's standing a bit away, Wooyoung's scared to get too close to his friend, scared his natural heat will only worsen Yeosong’s temperature. It must hurt, not being able to be there for his best friend, and Mingi feels guilt at his apprehension on letting you treat Yeosang, after all that means he’s the one separating these two.

He stands next to Yunho, sharing a look before starting to walk again as he makes his way to the front door, Yunho following. The breeze of the night hit him as the sky began to dusk. The moon is shining brightly, almost as if illuminating the path to your house and Yunho can’t help but think it might be an omen, whether it’s a good or bad one is still undecided.

You walk to your backdoor as you hear knocking. You know it's Mingi and Yunho, they’re the only ones that would use that entrance, only ones that would knock too. What worries you is the fact that the knocking seems frantic and you could sense multiple other life forces as well, although they’re a little farther from the entrance of your house than the wolves.

You open the door as you look at the two, it’s unusual that they’re here tonight, they don’t usually come over on weeknights, so the fact that they’re at your front door, looking quite nervous on a Thursday concerns you. “Oh? To what do I owe the visit?” You ask the two as you step aside to let them in, the other life forces don’t move and so you leave them alone.

Mingi and Yunho both step inside, Yunho looking more nervous as Mingi is more conflicted. “We uhm- we have to talk” Mingi says, fiddling with the bandages on his fingers as he walks into your house a bit more, before leaning on the countertop in the corner. Yunho stays by the door but moves to the side a bit so that he’s not blocking it. “We need your help..”

His words peak your interest, the two never share a lot about their current private affairs and you respect that. Understanding that not every creature wishes to be known, especially if they’re of the rarer types like you know these two are, so them standing before you now asking this question is quite strange. “Oh? What can I help with?” You walk into your home, decidedly leaving the door open.

“Okay so uhm- I’m not sure if you know. Wait what do you know- wait no wait oka-” Mingi’s nervous rambling is cut off by Yunho who looks you dead in the eye, unlike Mingi whose eyes are drilling holes in the floor. “Do you believe in the supernatural?” Yunho’s voice is firm and not as soft as you’re used to. “The supernatural? yeah, why?” You say nonchalantly, thinking of all the ways the direction this conversation can go. Would they confess their true nature? Yunho scratches the back of his neck as he takes a deep breath before speaking “So uhm if we were to say, to tell you uhm we-” his words are interrupted by a loud scream from outside, all three of your heads turning the direction of the scream.

The scream was guttural sounding, desperate and dry as you stand closest to the doorway you can see body’s panicking as they rush out of the bushes, laying another body down on the ground, you can’t see much of what's happening because of the distance but you can that Yunho and Mingi are worried, body’s tense. “I'm guessing that’s why you asked? about the supernatural?” You speak and your voice is steady in an effort to give some comfort, you walk a bit more into your kitchen before reaching a door on the side and opening it. “Tell them to bring him in- only you and one other can come with him- I don’t need this many unknown people in my house.” You say before walking down the stairs of the door you’ve opened. Turning the lights on down the way.

As your back is turned to them you can't see the bafflement on their faces as they freeze at your seeming nonchalant demeanor before rushing out to the rest of their packmates. You walk down into your apothecary room as you turn on the lights and clear your table, you don’t know what you’ll be dealing with, so for now all you do is roll up your sleeves and tie your hair. You hear the footsteps of three males come down the stairs. Mingi and Yunho reach your sight first before you see the two behind them, a shorter blond carrying a platinum blond man.

“[M/n] how-” Mingi’s words are cut off by your own “Put him down on the table” you instruct the blond and he does so with hesitance. “What's your name?” you ask again as you start inspecting the man laying down on your table, “San.” he responds as you remove the man on your table’s shirt, “Okay San, tell me about your friend here- he’s a Siren right?” you ask. “Yeah, wait [M/n] how do you-” Mingi responds instead but you completely ignore him. “Fresh or saltwater?” you ask already knowing the answer, eye’s directed at San. “Fresh water” San responds, “What are you doing- why are you taking off his shirt?” he asks, confusion sounding like anger. “Because I'm gonna need you to smear ointment on his chest- lest you want him to stop breathing” you say as you turn to try and reach for a jar of ointment in the cabinet behind you. Although San is quick to stop you as he grabs the wrist of the hand you had rested on the siren's chest to check his heartbeat.

“Listen I don’t know who you are, but you need to tell me what the fuck-AH!” San’s words are stopped by a sharp wince as he suddenly lets go of your wrist, clutching his arm as he looks at the back of his shoulder. Behind him in the doorway you see your best friend standing with her arm outstretched as she’s just thrown a knife into his shoulder blade.“You wolves couldn't act fast enough to stop your little friend here from grabbing [M/n]?” Lisa asks as she walks over. San tries to pull out the knife but you quickly stop him, “Don’t do that, that knife’s specifically designed to hurt anyone except for Lisa. Mingi go get another one of your friends to help San” you say and Mingi complies, despite the unease in his eyes and the questions you can feel lingering on his lips, he walks back out the room. “San you sit down on that chair over there” you point to a chair in the corner of the room “Lisa help him” she clicks her tongue before looking at you as if asking why “You’re the only one that can touch the knife, you know where the ointment is, Yunho help her I don’t think San would be to keen on letting her touch him” you order and Yunho nods, his mouth closed and it seems even he hasn’t processed whats been happening.

Mingi comes down with another male behind him, this one with short dark hair, “Fire elemental yeah? What’s your name?” you ask him as you get out jars of paste from your cabinets. “Uhm uh yeah Wooyoung what’s going on with San” his eyes instinctively flicker to his friend and you can see the panic in his eyes, “hey don't focus on him, focus on me I need your help with your friend.” Wooyoung's head snaps between the two of his friends before he sees San nod at him and he walks up to the table as you hand him a jar. “Here, smear this into his chest” you say as you start inspecting the siren on your table. “When was the last time he swam- in fresh water specifically” You ask Wooyoung. “Uhm I'm not sure? A few months ago maybe? He and Jongho- a saltwater siren, swam in the Night sea before we came here but he hasn’t been in the water since and then he got sick so we don’t know what to do” Wooyoung's words flow out a mile a minute as he starts rubbing the clear ointment on Yeosangs chest.

“Tell me what you’re doing to him” San speaks from the corner of the room between pained hisses. “Okay you see this?” you point to the open gills of the Siren before you, “Usually sirens' gills only form when they’re underwater, his gills being open, basically gasping for air means he cant breath. Freshwater Sirens are much more sensitive than saltwater ones, they need more water intake and too much salt water can also dry out their skin. I've seen it before one or two times in my lifetime, he’s dehydrated, see how he’s molting and his chapped lips?” Wooyoung's nod’s. “So you know how to help him then?” San asks as he’s being wrapped in a bandage by Yunho, Lisa now standing in the other corner of the room as she cleans her dagger.

“Yeah, yeah I know how, Lisa, would you get me the towels please?” you respond as you wrap your hands around Yeosangs neck, covering his gills as Lisa walks up the stairs of the room into your home. Seeing your actions, San tries to storm up from his chair but is held back by Yunho as Mingi’s voice aggressively tells him to sit.”What are you doing?! You just said his gills are how he breathes?! Wooyoung stop him!” San shouts as he’s struggling against Yunho's hold, Wooyoung tries to reach for your hands but is yanked back by Mingi “I told you not to touch him” his voice is borderline possessive but you can't bring yourself to focus on that now. “The ointment Wooyoung rubbed on his chest helped open up his lungs, I'm closing his gills to ensure he'll breathe out of his mouth.” you say and before they can respond the siren lets out a gasp as his breathing becomes a bit more stable, now from his mouth and nose.

“Alright I have to take him out to the water, you can follow but don’t interrupt okay?” You look at the four men in front of you, three nod as San stays silent. You pick Yeosang up bridal-style and Mingi lets out a noise of protest but stays mostly silent. You walk up the stairs careful not to move the siren in your hold too much. As you walk out of your home and feel the cold breeze hit you for the second time that night, the siren in your hold wines at the temperature drop. You nod your head in acknowledgement at the three other males standing outside, looking worried to all hell, as you continue walking to the stream that flows outside your house only a few miles away.

You feel the seven men following you, some fussing over San as they walk, Mingi and Yunho leading them, Lisa follows with towels in hand. As you reach the edge of the stream you look back at the men, “Don’t interrupt yeah? You might not understand what's happening but interfering will only hurt him” you look back at the water. The men behind you all seem apprehensive but comply to your orders, San only because he’s still being held back by Yunho. The clearing is deathly silent as you start walking into the river, despite the cold of the water you don’t flinch.

As you work and the others watch you, Hongjoongs turns to Mingi, “I thought you said he was human?” he whispers slightly, “I thought he was” Mingi responds, mouth almost agape in awe at your actions. “Then why does his right eye look like that of a banshee? Don't tell me you didn't realize” Hongjoong whispers again, this time Mingi is silent as he hears his leader's revelation. He’s always been curious about your white eye, the intricate markings almost like shattered glass, sometimes even wondering if you were blind in it, but he’d never had the gall to ask.

You let out a whistle as you stand in the water. It reaches your chest as you hold Yeosang, letting him practically float in the freshwater, his whole body, except for his face covered by the usual clear stream that's now blurred by the night's darkness. “Amphitrite, darling I need your help” you call out softly, in the same voice you’d speak to Mingi in when he fell asleep on your shoulder, the voice you'd speak to Yunho in when he came to you teary eyed and in need of comfort. A moment of confusion passes before the water starts swirling around you. The hair you’ve loosely tied has now fallen, cascading down your shoulders like a waterfall as the ends drift in the river. The water around you and the siren starts turning a bright blue, almost blinding. Once again San tries to lurch forward but is held back by Hongjoong, “He said not to interrupt” the leader states, despite his own confusion he is smart enough to know not to mess with the trails of a Banshee.

From the side of the river, the side filled with forest trees so dark the others can’t see past the line that separates the land they currently stand on with the territory named Forest night, emerges a large horse. Not a normal one. The horse seems sickly, almost dark and boney, barely a horse at all as its seaweed-like mane sways lightly in the wind, dripping wet despite the fact that the horse has just come out of the dry forest. The horse- the kelpie’s soulless eyes stare into the 7 men standing on the other side of the river. The way it’s flesh is ripped from the sides of its snout revealing it’s horrific teeth is a picture painted from nightmares of the sickests minds. Its bones crack with every step and the dark shadows around it lash out as whispers follow.

It steps into the water and the liquid seems to be drawn to it. The water crawls up its legs and takes its form, molding with the bloody bones and dark shadows so well, to the point that if you didn’t look too closely the horse would seem normal, beautiful even. No ripped flesh or greasy hair, no teeth are shown from its snout because its skin has no tear. The kelpie is big and dark, looking like a noble steed fit for a true royal, yet it walks over to you so slow and soft that it's clear where its loyalties lie. The kelpie goes silent, no whisper or lashing of shadows as it bows to you. The animal who is known to bring death to many sends a horrid thought through San’s mind. They had just given Yeosang, to the nightmarish stallion, on a silver platter. Instead of the creature luring Yeosang to death, it was his own pack who handed him to the ominous shadows of death looming above the glowing river of life.

You reach out a hand to pet its snout, “Amphritre darling, could you help this young siren for me?” you ask softly, stroking the kelpie, it seems to look down for a moment, makes a noise of dismay before you speak again, “Please?” you ask, removing your hand from its snout and gripping your necklace, the kelpie looks at the stone in your hand and relaxes as you reach back up to pet it once more.

It retracts its snout from your hold before looking down at Yeosang, sniffing his hair slightly before bringing a hoof out of the water, time seems to slow down as the horse slaps its hoof down on Yeosangs chest before it dissolves into the water, as if it was never there. Its former dark hair and pale bones now blending in with the bubbling waters as Yeosang gasps again, his body lurching forward as his eyes fly open. He coughs up water as you gently rub his back, your other arm. still supporting him as he’s basically sitting on it. “It’s okay, It’s okay” you whisper softly, unaware of how both Mingi and Yunho’s eyes are locked on you.

The way your hair reflects the moonlight, glowing bright as it drifts on the water behind your back, the way your white shirt- now wet and clear sticks to your skin, the way your voice dips low as you whisper to Yeosang, despite it being barely audible to those standing on the ground, it sends shivers down their spine. Makes Mingi’s stomach churn with heat and Yunho’s chest rumble with jealousy. Everyone else is focusing on the now conscious Yeosang, but they’re focusing on you.

As Yeosang’s coughing fit stops he looks up at you, eyes lidded and foggy and then he gives you a lazy smile, “My pearl, I’ve found you, my pearl, my pearl” Yeosang chant’s out softly like a mantra, his hand reaches for your cheek and just before he could place it on your skin, you tap his forehead, causing him to drop back down, now in a deep sleep as he practically snuggles into your hold. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes lock with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, whose own had widened significantly, but you try not to react too much as you look down for a moment to ensure he’s sleeping before you start to step out as the water around you calms down, going back to its original dark state, only light being from the reflection of the moon.

“What- how-” Mingi’s splutters of confusion are ignored as the salt water siren rushes forward, frantically looking Yeosang up and down, trying to take him from your hold. The siren in your arms, despite his sleepy state, refuses as he makes a noise of protest. You nod your head at Lisa as she hands you a towel before handing another to the saltwater siren. “What’s your name, little one?” she asks him gently, her voice not even close to the malicious tone she had held earlier when speaking to San, “Jongho” the saltwater Siren states. “Alright Jongho, you’re gonna need to help me transfer your friend here from [M/n]’s arms. Can you sit down for me? Hold your hands open with the towel, be ready to take him” she instructs gently, Jongho does as told, you follow shortly after, sitting down on your knees, the action causing your wet pants to flex against your thighs, which immediately draw’s Yunho’s attention.

“What’s this one's name?” you ask Jongho softly, referring to the man in your arms, “Yeosang” the shifter that stands beside Mingi speaks. He seems regal in a sense, and you can sense a connection of sorts to him… he must be a creature that inhabits water, you hum in acknowledgment at his answer before looking down at the boy in your arms. “Alright Yeosang can you hear me?” You speak, gently using one of your hands that's not holding him against you to move the wet hair out of his face, the siren makes a noise of acknowledgement but doesn't open his eyes. “I'm going to need you to let go of me okay? We need to dry you off lest you get sick” you utter and your voice flows over the clearing, despite your gentle tone, the low rumble of your words seems to keep everyone around you quiet. The siren makes another noise of disagreement and you can sense the starting agitation of the wolves standing a bit to your right.

“Come on, if you do this for me I’ll be here when you wake up okay? Just go into the arms of your brother." Finally Yeosang complies at your words as he relaxes the arms that were wrapped around your neck, you hand him to Jongho who instantly wraps him in the blanket and gently tries to dry him as Wooyoung and San flock to his side. You stand up and start gently drying yourself, Lisa helping you with your long hair as you look at the others. “You need to get him home for now, the water may have helped him but the measures i've used will ensure he’ll be very cold, I’d suggest keeping Wooyoung close to him to warm him up, I’m not sure how long you guys will be here, so he can come swim in the river if he feels his hydration levels get too low, just let me know first.” You speak to the group, mostly the two reptilian shifters given they seem to hold the most authority among the group.

“Wait- what how did you-” Mingi walks closer as he starts questioning what just happened, despite his confusion and search for answers his eyes are stuck on your chest as your shirt sticks to it and the necklace he’s never seen you without dangles from your neck. “Isn't it obvious? Thought those two would have figured it out already” you nod to the two shifters again before pointing to your eye, the one that's white and void, filled with little gray lines. “The eye’s of a Banshee.” The shorter one states, “Although I haven't heard of one being alive in a while, the last known one was when the war ended.” the white haired one follows.

“I like keeping quiet, nothing good comes of my kind being known. You must understand that” you say, voice monotone as the two nod. “I’m Kim Hongjoong, this is my right hand Park Seonghwa. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, we have heard quite a lot” Hongjoong says as he nods his head at you. “Thank you for saving Yeosang, truly we didn’t know what to do.” Seonghwa does the same as Hongjoong as he nods his head.

“Hm, It’s no problem, although I must say not everyday the King of Aurora comes to my home.” You say as you look at Hongjoong, his face is stoic but you see the slight widening of his eyes that shows his shock. “What? You think just because we’re an isolated island that we don’t keep up with what happens in other regions?” you ask half sarcastically, Wooyoung who’s listening into the conversation makes a small shrug of “yeah”. You chuckle slightly and the sound is like music to Mingi and Yunho’s ears in this tense atmosphere. “I think you guys should go home yeah? He needs rest” you nod over to the sleeping Yeosang.

Seonghwa steps forward for a moment, “He’ll ask about you, you know that right? Not everyday a fresh water siren finds their pearl” you nod your head in understanding as you cross your arms, the others make faces of confusion but don't interrupt “Yes I understand that, but right now rest is more important to him.” You say and Hongjoong nods, “We do still need to talk” he motions for the others to start gathering around as his eyes are focused on you.

“Hm, I guess I understand, a King worried about a man of his pack” you hum, not noticing the slight flinch as you refer to him as ‘King’, “There's a tavern a little bit into town, called Moonlight, I’ll meet you there tomorrow to talk, you can come anytime. Although not everyone can come, I'm not sure my pack would appreciate being ambushed by yours” Hongjoong nods at your words as he turns around to signal the rest to leave, but Mingi instantly lurches forward.

“Hey woah no I’m not leaving, since when were you a Banshee? Wait, no that's stupid, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn't you tell us?” There are tears lingering in his eyes as he asks you pleadingly, his pupils wide and glossy. He searches your face for an answer as his hands grip your arms desperately. “Why didn't you tell me you were wolves? Shifters from the Walkam bloodline no less” you don’t mean to seem as cold as you do, but your words send a chill down the wolves spine, one colder than the night sky you’re currently standing under.

“We were scared..” Yunho whispers as he moves closer to both you and Mingi. The others look at the scene unfolding before them and they feel as if they’ve invaded something they shouldn’t have, but they can’t look away. The way the moon is shining on you three is simply mesmerizing, as if she’s capturing the moment in her memory. “And so was I. You must know being a Banshee is not safe, for me nor for you. Some things are better kept unsaid.” You place a hand on each of their cheeks as their faces nuzzle into your skin, warm flushed against your cold hands. “But we weren’t- that's not what we were scared of I- '' Mingi's words are cut off by Lisa, who's standing with the others.

“Loverboy, I don’t think this is the place for your confession okay? Besides [Name] is tired, that ritual takes a lot out of him” she says as she shifts her weight to one hip, she seems a little annoyed to the others but you can see the bit of sympathy in her eyes. The scene seems almost familiar to her but she pushes the feeling away. Mingi turns his head to her and opens his mouth to protest but he’s stopped by you talking instead. “She’s right Mingi, you need to go home, Yeosang needs to rest, I need to rest.” You tell him softly. “But we have to talk” Yunho’s disheartened voice reaches your ears. “Tomorrow is Friday, right? We always meet on friday nights, why would tomorrow be any different? We can talk then, I'll give you all the answers I can then.” your thumb strokes his cheek gently before you retract your hands. Both wolves whine at the loss of your touch but they don't talk back at your words. They listen intently like worshipers would their deity.

“Promise?” they ask in unison, Mingi’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as Yunho’s does with hope. “When have I ever backed out of our Friday night meetings? Why would I skip the chance to see you now meae carissimae lupi” the familiar name rolls off your tongue in a language that makes Hongjoongs eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t comment on it, not in such a fragile atmosphere. Both Mingi and Yunho’s eyes flash with confusion yet fondness, you’ve never told them what the name meant, but they both hold the familiarity of the way your voice vibrates when you refer to them with it dear. “Now I believe you need to help get your brother home hm?” You nod your head to Yeosang who's still in Jongho’s arms. Yunho is the first to start retreating, but Mingi is hesitant to do the same, instead he sends one final glance to his pack. His eyes lock with Yunho, and then his gaze lingers on Yeosang for just a moment longer than a normal look should, before he hugs you, tightly. Not caring for the wetness of your clothes, or the coldness of your skin, he hugs you like his life depends on it, and were you any weaker it would have hurt.

He rests his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as if he’s engraving it in his memory. Your hand automatically rests itself on his head, gently scratching his scalp to try and soothe him from what you believe to be the feelings of his sick brother now crashing down on him. Unbeknownst to you, the action solidifies something, adds oxygen to his lungs, to the fire in his very being that's alight for you.

“Mingi..” Hongjoong calls in warning as he sees Lisa’s gaze. Hongjoong doesn’t want to intrude longer than he already has, the suspicions he and Seonghwa currently hold make him weary of your company, despite the kind gesture you had just done for them. Mingi growls, it’s low, not like any sound they’ve ever heard from him, seems to reverberate from his chest like a demon roaring in a cave, and not that of a normal wolf. Although he lets go, and so no one pays it any mind, all of them having too much to process tonight already, Mingi’s more primal than usual rumble being the last of their worries.

Mingi looks at your face as he lets go of you, leans in and kisses your nose as he cups your cheeks before he turns away and starts walking, not looking at any of his pack members. You stand in shock as you watch his retreating figure, feeling the tingle of his lips on your skin linger. Yunho spares you a glance of longing before going after Mingi, and the others hang around unsure whether they should stay or go.

“[Name] will meet you at the tavern tomorrow, King. You all should go before I stick another knife in one of you” Lisa says as she assesses the situation at hand, her eyes travel to San as he grits his teeth, shoulders tensing as he seemingly readies himself to jump at her, but he’s stopped by Wooyoung holding his arm. “Yeah we’ll go Ma’am, no need to dagger any of us” he tugs San to follow, the blond making a confused noise at Wooyoung's sudden honorifics for the female. Jongho whose feet have already begun moving the moment Lisa’s first sentence left her mouth.

Now the only people left in the clearing, it’s you, Lisa, Seonghwa and Hongjoong. “You speak the ancient language?” Seonghwa asks, “I was taught at a young age, just as you probably were, lost dragon of Twilight” Seonghwa’s breath hitches at your response, eyes widening as he immediately opens his mouth to respond, yet Hongjoong interrupts him, “Seonghwa, we will go.” Hongjoong who’s been analyzing both you and Lisa makes his decision final as he starts walking, Seonghwa quickly following his leader but still spluttering in confusion. His regal mask seemingly breaking the moment you showed an inkling of knowledge.

Once the two have passed the treeline and are out of your sight, you let out a breath of relief and Lisa immediately moves to your side to support you as your legs give in for a moment. She gives you a second to stabilize yourself before you both move back into your home, you immediately sit on a stool by your kitchen counter as she locks the door. Your head rests in your hands as you hear Lisa rustle around in your kitchen. “Drink”, she says, before placing a glass of water in front of you as she sits down herself.

You take the glass and chug it as she starts speaking, “Tea-moo won’t like this you know” she plays with her dagger as she speaks, the tip of the blade chipping a hole into the paint of the counter top as she spins it under her finger. “Tea-moo has a wife to worry about, and stop it with the blade you’re going to ruin another counter top” you swat her hand playfully to stop her, she huffs and drops the dagger. “She won’t like this either” Lisa gives you a knowing look as she stands back up, now looking through your cupboards. “Just for different reasons” you sigh as she turns around, a jar of salve in her hands.

She walks over to you as you turn in your chair to face her, with her help you remove your shirt as she opens the jar, your muscle’s ache with the strain you’ve put on them tonight, clearly not having used your magic for a long time has an effect on you. Looking down you see the lightning-like scars that litter your torso and crawl all the way to your back. You're just lucky the transparency of your white shirt didn’t expose the usually light pink marks that litter your skin tonight, but now they’re glowing a faint blue. It’s not painful by any means, but still the reminder that it can be excruciating when not treated haunts you. You shake your head to distract yourself as Lisa starts lightly applying the balm along the lines of your healed wounds. It’s become a calming ritual for her, applying the salve on the long forgotten wounds that only re appear when you use your magic. It’s as if the light inside you tries to escape, and Lisa tries her hardest to keep it inside. Lest she fail again. Applying the salve to watch the marks almost completely disappear is the only thing that can help her rest easy after you've used magic such as what you used tonight.

“Vampires are territorial creatures, they are most like wolves in that way” she muses as she continues your previous conversation, “Don’t let them hear you say that” you try and lighten the mood, and under any other circumstance it would have worked. “Tea- moo hearing me compare him to a wolf is not my concern. My concern; is him finding out his previous imprinted- and his wife's savior has been claimed by a Siren- a prince of Dune no less” Lisa’s gaze flickers to the orange stone hung around your neck before she looks at you, you sigh and rub your eyes, already feeling the headache forming, “and why is that your concern?” you voice the question yet already know the answer.

“That nation abandoned you, who's to say their prince wont do the same?” she slams the lid back on the jar of salve before she moves to put it away while you put on your shirt again. “What happened then had nothing to do with him Lisa, you know that. He does not know who I am and does not know I know who he is. Besides, I do not plan on reciprocating his bond. I've had enough dealing with Dune’s sirens to last me all my lifetimes.” you bring your necklace out from under your shirt as Lisa walks back to you, she takes the stone in her hand gently as it glows in response to her touch, you let her.

She lets it drop back to your chest with a gentle jingle of the chain, “And the wolves? You’ve been awfully close to them this last year, and while the others may have been fine with it- having seen them tonight? Having heard the rumble in the angry one’s-""Mingi’s” you interrupt her,”Mingi’s chest” she nods her head, “that's something way more than just adoration for you…” she says, and this time you can’t reassure her in your hesitance to pursue anything like you could with the siren.

She nods her head in understanding, “Just be careful hm?” she pats your chest, “dealing with one supernatural bond is hard enough, having the prospect of three? It might not bode well with the others” You nod your head at her words because you know it’s true, but you can’t bring yourself to deny anything.

Because the last few months, this last year spent with Mingi and Yunho have brought back to you what you thought had been extinguished forever, but you’re scared of accepting the reality of what that means. Accepting reality means accepting them, and you fear you'll drown their fire if you do, just like you did before.

“Do you think it’s stupid of me to live in this delusion?” you ask quietly, fiddling with your necklace as it once again glows in response to you, your emotions. Lisa sighs, “I don’t think it’s stupid- I don’t think it's a delusion either, My little prince” she holds your face in her hands, using the tittle you've long since forgone. Lisa has always been with you, ever since you were a teen knowing nothing about life she had been one of the older flames who helped guide you. “If those wolves are what you desire, then you know i'll help you acquire them- I think they would come willingly” she jokes, and you huff out a laugh. “My desire means nothing in the face of their safety. I just, I like to think that If I was different, if I wasn't-” you stop your sentence, “I like to think that sometimes I could love someone the way you love her” you say. Lisa’s eyes fill with pain and she kisses your forehead, “You will, you'll find someone who loves you like that” ‘You already have’ she thinks but doesn't verbalize.

“Why are you always the one able to make me vulnerable?” you ask rhetorically, biting your cheek in an effort not to cry. Lisa’s warmth sometimes reminds you more of your mother than a sister. “I've been your guard since before you knew what love meant [M/N], if you didn't feel safe enough to be vulnerable with me I wouldn't be doing my job right” she bites back and pats your cheek before her hands leave your face. “You know you don't have to protect me right? I can do it myself” you muse, and she responds without a beat, “I don’t have too, I want to. Just because you're able to protect yourself doesn't mean you should. You protect the others, you protect your kids, so I protect you.”

You smile at her, and she’s reminded of another time, a younger you running between an army of soldiers, laughing as the big burly men in all black gaze with fondness at your little figure. The contrast of your soft white hair and clothing to their intimidating nature always drew a laugh from onlookers. Lisa remembers sitting next to her love as you played with the soldiers, she remembers a time your smile was innocent and not burdened with the pain and knowledge you now hold.

She hopes these wolves could bring back that smile.

Ateez masterlist | Navigation

Taglist [12 /30]: @foxilsdenn @zzstar @glitchyaiko @brrrkdslek @scarfac3 @xavi-in-kpopland @conwunder @venn-ie @dahbee8 @idkwhatto-namethis @seongsangssbitch @grapejellysollie

note: RAAHH IM SO EXCITED TO FINALLY RELEASE THIS, you have no idea how much I love this storyline guys :(( im taking a long time with it because i wnat it to be good!! I hope all my moonies enjoy this <3333 Please remember the reader does have specific characteristics visually (hair and eyes), wich WAS stated in the character introductions and are there for reasons so im asking nicely that everyone be respectfull about that <3 ANYWAY on a happier note I'm using a lot of foreshadowing for this series, so I want my moonies to interact with it a lot :) share with me your theories, parts of thd chapters that stand out to you, headcannons or thoughts you have :)) If your theory is correct I'll give you a lil spoiler on what will happen further in the story. I want to see how smart my moonies are and if they can pick up the crumbs I leave for them- remember no piece of information is given if it won't be used😘

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star-suh · 1 year ago

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ATEEZ

Kim Hongjoong

teacher park seonghwa & student hongjoong

make it bouncy!

mirror mirror

Park Seonghwa

teacher park seonghwa

teacher park seonghwa & student hongjoong

short story: the asmr guy

🎃 the vampire 🎃

bloodlust 🎃

Jeong Yunho

🎃 wrong summoning 🎃

Kang Yeosang

santa fuck me🎄🎅

Choi San

a choi san short story

🎃 SCREAM (my name) 🎃

y/n's sexual adventures a short story

crazy form

scream 🎃

Song Mingi

extra lessons

this is a competition

Jung Wooyoung

🎃 the possessed 🎃

brat and brattier

crazy form

Choi Jongho

the jock and the horny

this is a competition

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locallixie · 2 years ago

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[23:21]

You knew you don't get along with your peers, but no one was ever straight-up mean to you. Unlike today, you supposed, everyone was just so hostile to you for no actual reason. Even the teachers as well, they would scold you badly for a simple tiny mistake.

You tried your best to be optimistic but it deteriorated bit by bit the more the day went on. You were hoping that they were all having a bad day, or something big happened that you weren't aware of and they might had mistaken you of being insensitive. The thing was, that there was nothing. None at all, no rational reasoning that you could use to defend their strange behaviors.

Worst birthday ever! Why would they care anyway? You never mattered, they never gave a single fuck about you. Running to the storage room, tears pouring from your eyes. You sat down, under the work bench, in the darkness and tranquility of the room.

Sweet sixteen wasn't so sweet was it? Nothing ever went to plan, another year alone and only yourself to cry on. At least one person was a little nicer to you, even though you highly doubted that he knew it was your birthday. You only seen Yunho few times a week, you two did share one or two classes with each other. He lend you a pen, and even smile at you today in Biology.

That was enough to warm your sad, pathetic heart. It wasn't like it was a frequent thing, you two weren't quite friends either. You just knew of each other, and it was going to stay like it.

The door clicked open, the lights flooding through a small crack. You peeked your head to look, still inside the little space under the work bench. "Hey, I knew you would be here." That voice, it was his.

Yunho closed the door as gentle as he could to not scare you. He sat down beside you under the same work bench, "Are you crying, [Y/N]?" He quietly asked, his deep tone sent vibrations to your ears.

You sniffled, wiping off your tears with your uniform sleeves. "No...I'm— Nevermind, who am I kidding? Just leave me be, I don't want you to see me like this." You turned your face away from him.

Then you heard a click, and another. Looking back, see the small flame flickering ontop of a candle stick. Yunho held a cupcake in his hand, "Happy birthday, [Y/N]. I know today was hard, but this is the least I can do."

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joong-tori · 1 year ago

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tw: cheating

the gala has been going amazing so far. the second round of donations have only just started and you’ve already raised more than enough money for two of the featured charities of the the event.

you shuffle around the venue with a polite smile on your face as you greet several of the guests as you make your way to the appetizers bar, grabbing a small sandwich and a champagne flute. you spot mingi standing across the room, gently waving to him before walking over to him, careful not to spill your refreshments.

he smiles at you as you approach. “pretty great turn out huh?” he points out, his gaze scanning over the sea of celebrities and wealthy individuals.

you give him a nod, taking a sip of the champagne. “much bigger than last year’s,” you mumble around the rim of your glass. “we’ll definitely reach our goal of ten charities.”

mingi responds with a confident nod, a wide smile spreading across his face as he makes eye contact with san for the umpteenth time tonight. you couldn’t help the sly grin that crawls onto your face as you take notice of the light flush painting his tan cheeks.

the taller man had been going back and forth between helping keep the event on track and sitting with san and wooyoung. while no one would find it too weird that san lets his secretary sit with him and his boyfriend, you knew just how big of a deal it was, for mingi at least. your conversation with wooyoung left you a bit unsure just how deep him and his boyfriend’s feelings for mingi went, but you were sure it would work out. san is a romantic at heart and wooyoung would end up flirting until he actually catches feelings, so you had no doubt that the three would end up together.

“go over there,” you suddenly say, surprising mingi for a second as he turns to you in confusion. realization crosses his face as he watches you nod your head to the couple. “go. i’ll cover for you,” you smile before he could protest. with a tiny nudge from you, he nervously makes his way over, fiddling with his suit jacket as he walks.

you sigh in content as you watch san greet the younger man with a bright smile and wooyoung with a cheshire grin.

“they are so very cute and stupid,” you chuckle quietly to yourself.

“oh thank god, i found you.”

the sudden voice behind you makes you jump, almost spilling your champagne as you turn to face the person who almost gave you a heart attack.

your shoulders remain tense as you’re greeted with the sight of your boss, a small smile dancing across his face.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you,” hongjoong apologizes, his eyes darting to your suit to make sure you hadn’t gotten any of your drink on it.

“it’s alright. i was the one who was distracted,” you wave him off, downing the rest of your drink to prevent any future messes. you turn back to your three friends, finding them laughing and joking with each other. “did you need me for something?” you ask, setting your now empty flute on a table. you’d take it back to the kitchen later.

“just some company,” hongjoong sighs, looking out over the party as he moves to stand next to you. “yujin ditched me to hang out with her friends and i’m in a bit of a rough patch with mine right now,” he laments quietly, his gaze a bit sad, “didn’t want to spend majority of the gala alone or kissing corporate asses.” you snicker involuntarily at the last comment, covering your mouth and turning away from your employer, effectively missing the soft look he gives you.

you clear your throat, turning back to hongjoong, “well i’d be happy to keep you company while you wait for your speech,” you reply gently, beaming politely at the ceo. “wouldn’t want you feeling lonely at your own party.”

hongjoong hums his appreciation and you could almost swear you see a light flush on his face but as soon as you blink, it disappears. you just chalk it up the lighting or champagne.

“i appreciate that. i know you’d probably rather spend your free time with your friends and not your boss,” the young ceo chuckles, his smile soft.

you simply shake your head. “i see my friends everyday. they won’t miss me if i hang out with you for a couple of hours.” that gets a shy smile out of him that makes your heart stutter in you chest.

you both chat about general work topics, mostly about the gala and your hopes of achieving the company’s goal of donating to ten of the charities in this years line up, before a soft rumble emits from hongjoong.

“sorry,” he’s bashful, his lips pulled into a small grin as he places a hand on his stomach, “i haven’t eaten much besides that sandwich you gave me earlier.” he seems to feel as if it’s not too big of a deal until he looks at your face and is met with a fairly terrifying glare.

“you’re almost as bad as mingi,” you grumble quietly, missing the breathy giggle from the older man as you grab his wrist and pull him to the buffet table. it seems all professionalism you had was thrown out the window as you quickly fix hongjoong a plate of grilled vegetables, rice, and chicken, gently handing it to him as you grab his wrist once more to lead him to the table you both were originally standing next to. you pull out a chair, gesturing for him to sit when you finally look back at him.

he had the widest and brightest smile in the world as he held back his laughter, free hand covering his mouth. your eyes widen in realization.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry mr. kim-“

“it’s fine,” he cuts you off with a chuckle, taking a seat after he sets the plate down. “you just reminded me of seonghwa. he used to do the exact same thing to me back in school.

“still i shouldn’t act so unprofessional. you literally sign off on my paychecks,” you groan, hands covering your face.

he waves you off. “i’m not gonna fire you over something like this. especially because that would mean i’d have fire san,” his chest fills with pride at the snort that gets out of you, “it’s fine, really.”

you let the breath you were unaware that you were holding, shoulders finally relaxing as you sit down with hongjoong, continuing to chat until one of the curators announces him for his speech.

adrenaline is rushing through hongjoong’s veins, his mind moving a million miles a minute. he was practically vibrating with excitement. treasure reached its goal of getting ten charities over a hundred billion won in donations. and in the middle of his speech too!

hongjoong had to pause just to take in the fact that he had just hit his biggest goal since starting treasure. he didn’t even finish the last of his planned speech, completely improvising his closing statements to highlight the accomplishment his beloved company just made. the cheers of the crowd filled his ears, san being the most prominent among them as he had ran onto stage shortly after hongjoong finished speaking, tackling him with a hug as he congratulated his friend continuously.

he had turned his gaze to the left finding you and mingi celebrating as well, you basically jumping in place as you looked at the screen showing the charity and its donation amount. he couldn’t help the way his eyes traveled across your face, taking in the large grin and the apples of your cheeks, the look of absolute joy gracing your features and mingi shakes you by your shoulders.

god, you looked stunning.

but you weren’t his to look at.

and he was painfully reminded of that when yunho joins you and mingi on stage, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips in congratulations. you look to him in awe, your bright eyes turning away from the screen to stare at the man before you.

hongjoong looked away before his heart could turn in on itself. figured if he didn’t pay it any mind, then the feeling would go away

however, that was around twenty minutes ago and the feeling is still very present. so he decides to seek out his beloved girlfriend to share the amazing news with.

at least that’s what he tells himself.

the young ceo wanders the hall of the museum they had rented for the venue, in search of his partner. he knew she wasn’t in the banquet hall as that was where the gala was officially being held.

“she must have run off somewhere with her friends,” he thinks to himself, walking up the stairs.

hongjoong stops when he hears what sounds like her voice, quickly following it to the end of the hall. he arrives in front of a door, eagerly opening it, ready to greet his girlfriend and share this lifelong milestone he and his company just achieved.

only to pause at the sight he’s met with.

yujin, sitting half naked on top of her friend and fellow influencer, zico, who was in a similar state of undress.

it’s only then that he realizes that the sounds he heard were her moans and gasps of pleasure. which he could still hear as they hadn’t bothered to stop yet.

“what the fuck,” he breathes, seemingly loud enough to catch the attention of zico, who looks over and almost chokes on his spit at the sight of hongjoong standing in the door.

this makes yujin halt her movements, an annoyed twitch of her lips as she gets ready to ask what’s taken zico’s attention from her before following his gaze.

and she looks as if she was about to shit herself when her eyes meet hongjoong’s.

she gapes at him dumbly as she remains planted on zico’s lap, evidently still processing her boyfriend’s presence.

“joongie—,” the nickname feels like poison coming from her now, tears of anger welling up in hongjoong’s eyes as his hands quiver. “joongie wait—,”

he doesn’t let her finish before he’s bolting down the hall, his footsteps quick as his dress shoes click on the linoleum floor. as he reaches the ground floor, he’s bombarded with press asking him questions about the donations and what this means for the company and who he’s wearing and if he’d be celebrating with yujin.

hongjoong holds back the sob at the mention of her name, pushing his way through the sea of journalists as he makes his way to the door. he manages to get to the door, quickly opening it and slipping through. leaning against the door and taking a deep breath through his nose, he does his best to keep himself from breaking down right then.

god, all he wanted to do was cry. to just let go of all the emotional stress and anguish he’s been holding onto the last couple of weeks.

but he has a party to host.

yet the thought of going back out there with all those people, with all the journalists and paparazzi, with her…

it made him sick to his stomach.

so he called the one person he knew could calm him down.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸??

what the fuck

m.list

aiiprn m.list

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a/n: let the mess begin >:)

#aiiprn??#ateez smau #kim hongjoong x male reader #ateez x male reader #choi jongho #jung wooyoung #song mingi #choi san #kang yeosang #jeong yunho #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong

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naesarangyunho · 2 years ago

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Beans on Toast (1)- Jung Wooyoung x m!reader

[These aren't my images credits to the original owners]

SFW

Synopsis: Basically a silly, sappy, kinda cliché soulmate au because I felt like it

Contains: wooyoung being his usual self, all of y/n's friends have soulmates and he's lonely, fluff, some attempts at humour.

[Word Count: 2.1k]

With the coming and going of his twentieth birthday that week, he was once more acutely aware that it had been so long – officially two years now– since he had received his soulmate mark and that he had yet to find that soulmate.

To make matters worse, it was only he who was single– all of his friends had already found their other half and boy did he envy them.

His eldest friend Hongjoong had been the first to find his soulmate and his was the experience that y/n was most jealous of. Hongjoong had simply clocked in at work on the afternoon of his eighteenth birthday, bumped into his colleague with whom he was already in love with and bam, soulmates!

Second had been the youngest member of their friend group; Jongho. Although he had turned eighteen and received his mark later than his friends, he still beat half of them to it, finding his soulmate within less than a year after. To be honest, though, she had found him. Jongho had been well known in the community and within his schools for his excellent soccer skills and with that buzz of being the top player floating around, it was difficult to find him. When the local soccer club was short a member the captain herself had taken it upon herself to find Jongho and recruit him. It hadn't taken much to get him to join, not when he discovered that the woman with big brown eyes and sass for days was his soulmate.

For a long while following that it had been only y/n and Yeosang who had yet to find their soulmate. They had like a little solidarity bond going for them during that time. When the other two members of their friend group were out with their partners or doing 'coupley things', Yeosang and he would stick together. They would hang out together and had each other to grumble about being single to or after a few drinks they would hype each other up with "Who needs soulmates anyways!?". It felt good having someone who could relate. That little dynamic came to an end when one semester Yeosang decided to switch majors.

He had gotten lost on campus and couldn't find one of his new classes and had rushed to the office to seek out directions. He had asked the first person he came across, mistakenly assuming he was staff, but that person had no idea where he was either and was new to not only the university but the Republic of South Korea itself.

The stranger's Korean had failed him in his excitement at finding his soulmate and he had switched to rapid-fire Italian. Yeosang had not a clue what he was saying and simply stood there, staring at him in awe with bright eyes and a huge smile forming on his face.

Y/n had happened to be with Yeosang and had witnessed the scene with his own eyes. Yeosang and his soulmate had been equal parts awkward and adorable and he couldn't help but smile at the fond memory.

Admittedly, he had been a little salty when he realised that he was officially on his own but he couldn't stay salty forever. Alessandro grew on him very quickly and so did the happiness he brought Yeosang.

So yeah, he had been left to wallow in his soulmatelessness and watch his friends fall deeply in love with their soulmates. He really couldn't help but long for his own soulmate. He wanted to be just as happy and in love as his friends. He wanted to experience what they were experiencing. He didn't want to be alone anymore.

That left Y/N alone though and as he watched his friends be deeply in love with their soulmates, he couldn't help but long for his own. He wanted to be that happy and in love. He wanted to experience what his friends were experiencing. He wanted to not be alone anymore.

Sometimes he would argue that that loneliness benefited him a little. He had more time to spend on his studies. His excellent grades in high school had lured him into a false sense of security, letting him think that university would be just as simple. He had been incorrect and his first university exam marks had been a slap in the face and a serious wake up call.

He also had more time to daydream. He would lie and tell you that those daydreams were constructive and that he was thinking up characters and scenarios he could write about or put away for later when he had a chance to continue working on the sci-fi novel he had in drafts. Honestly, though, at least eighty percent of that time was spent on thinking about his soulmate.

He had so many questions and thoughts. He wondered what they were like. He wondered what they looked like. Were they a boy or a girl or someone in between like Hongjoong's partner? How old were they? Were they in Korea too or were they a foreigner like Alessandro?

One thing he was certain of however was that they must be a very interesting person if the words he had woken up to on his eighteenth birthday were anything to go by.

He looked down at his left arm and lifted his sleeve a little. He smiled softly as he traced the words printed neatly into the skin of his forearm.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he abruptly snapped back to reality. He pulled it out to check it.

Haribo

Where are you???

Shoot, he was meant to meet Jongho in the library for a study session!

He shot up from the bench he had taken a rest on and hurriedly gathered his things before speed-walking in the direction of the university library.

His headphones were on and blaring music and if it hadn't been for the hand tugging on his arm he wouldn't have realised someone was calling him.

He stopped walking, tugged his headphones down to rest around his neck and turned to see who the firm grip on his arm belonged to. He was met by the sight of a six-foot-something guy and a smaller dark-haired boy that he discovered to be the source of the hold on his arm.

He barely had a moment to properly take in the strangers or ask questions before the dark-haired boy spoke up, voice a little louder and more excited than necessary.

"What's your opinion on beans on toast?"

He was taken aback and was too surprised and confused to even register what was going on.

"W-what on toast?" He stuttered, eyes slightly widened. This hadn't been on his bingo card for a Tuesday afternoon on campus.

The tall boy gripped the shorter, dark-haired boy by the back of his shirt collar, not unlike one grabs a misbehaving puppy, and tugged him away from a bewildered y/n.

"Wooyoung-ah, how many times have I told you that you can't just grab people like that? What happened to your manners?" He scolded.

Wooyoung huffed dramatically and pouted, "Hyunggg, it's an important question. I've been wondering what the locals would think ever since we came back from our trip to England."

The taller man rolled his eyes, "You're ridiculous. We're late for class and you're worried about food and harassing strangers."

Y/n was suddenly frozen as he realised something. As he watched them argue back and forth his eyes settled on the one the tall boy had called Wooyoung. His heart was racing and the skin on his arm felt almost like it was tingling. Was he imagining things or..?

"Yunho-yah, listen, you eat anything. Just because you like- "

Wooyoung suddenly stilled, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping slightly.

Yunho frowned, "Woo? What's wrong?"

Wooyoung ignored him and turned quickly to face Y/n, "Can I... Can I see your arm?"

Yunho gasped softly as he realised what was happening and stepped back a little to give them some space.

Y/n's heart was pounding and he could feel a drop of sweat form on his temple. He felt excitement begin to take over but he tried his best to keep it down, trying to not get his hopes up and end up breaking his own heart if this wasn't what he thought it was. He swallowed thickly before responding to Wooyoung's question with a nod.

Wooyoung reached for his arm again, his grip a lot gentler than earlier, and he carefully rolled up his sleeve.

He gasped softly as he saw the words there and softly traced his index finger over them. Y/n could feel goosebumps rise on his skin at his touch despite how warm he was feeling in that moment.

Then Wooyoung laughed and Y/n's heart swelled at the sound.

Wooyoung used his hold on him to pull him towards him and buried him in a warm hug.

"I can't believe my first words to my soulmate are so ridiculous," He murmured into Y/n's shoulder with a grin.

Y/n couldn't believe it. He had found him, his soulmate. He wrapped his arms around him, returning the hug with just as much enthusiasm as Wooyoung and Wooyoung squeezed him tight once before releasing him.

He smiled wide and held a hand out, "I'm Wooyoung."

Wooyoung's smile was contagious and he couldn't help but return it.

He reached out and held Wooyoung's proffered hand, "I'm Y/N."

They stood like that for a moment longer, finally taking the opportunity to properly look at each other.

His eyes traced Wooyoung's features. He had dark hair which Y/N now realised had a layer of blond under it giving it what he decided was an Oreo vibe. It looked long enough to tie up. He admired his beautiful tanned skin, his toned figure (did he work out?), his deep brown eyes, the curve of his nose and lastly, his lips.

He blushed and finally tore his eyes from Wooyoung, looking down at their joined hands instead.

Wooyoung chuckled at his sudden shyness and tugged him in for another hug. He let out a surprised yelp and stumbled but Wooyoung's strong arms caught him and held him tight. Wooyoung was going to be both a handful and clingy, he realised. He returned his embrace and buried his face in his neck– he didn't mind that and could definitely see himself getting used to this.

Wooyoung pulled away all too soon and y/n instantly missed the warmth of his body.

He had heard that people get rather attached to their soulmates very quickly but he didn't think it would be this fast.

"I can't believe I've found my soulmate and-" Wooyoung held him out at arm's length "He's gorgeous too."

Y/n smiled, "I could say the same."

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Then why don't you?"

He looked away with a blush and Wooyoung laughed. That was quickly becoming one of Y/n's favourite sounds.

Wooyoung was still beaming at him, "You're shy, aren't you? That's okay."

Someone cleared their throat and the two boys suddenly remembered that Yunho was there too.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt but we're running horribly late for a class, Woo."

"I'm sure the teacher will understand," Wooyoung said dismissively with a wave of his hand.

"Wooyoung, that woman hates you. You set her hair on fire last year."

Wooyoung looked quickly between his soulmate and Yunho, his cheeks flushing.

"Hyung!" He hissed.

Yunho laughed, "What? Worried I scare him off? I don't think that's likely."

Wooyoung glanced at his soulmate who was basically glowing with joy and amusement. Yeah, maybe Yunho was right. But still.

Wooyoung rushed to explain, "I swear it was an accident I-"

"Wooyoung. We need to go, you can tell him all about it later," Yunho interrupted.

"Since when did you become the adult?" Wooyoung sulked.

"Since San put me on babysitting duty," Yunho retorted

"Hyung! I am not a baby."

Yunho looked at Y/N, "I want to say 'Sorry, he isn't always like this' but I'd be lying."

Wooyoung's cheeks were burning and he covered his face with his hands.

Y/n chuckled and reached forward to take Wooyoung's hands away from his face, "It's alright, I like it."

And he wasn't lying. Wooyoung was definitely going to bring some excitement into his otherwise dull life.

"As I said though, I hate to cut this short but I'm sure Y/n also has somewhere to be."

He nodded reluctantly and Wooyoung's face fell. He really was like a puppy.

"Give me your number and I'll call you later, okay?" He held his phone out so Wooyoung could type his number into it.

"Promise?" Wooyoung asked as he took it.

He nodded and Wooyoung grinned brightly before quickly typing his number in. He quickly called himself from y/n's phone.

"There. Now I have yours too!" He announced as he cut the call.

He returned the cell phone and squeezed his hand before Yunho was once more dragging him away by the back of his collar.

"See you later!" Wooyoung called out with a wave as he let his tall friend drag him down the walkway.

Y/n smiled and waved him off.

He stood rooted in place still for a while after Wooyoung and Yunho had disappeared from sight, smiling stupidly.

He'd found him.

Then reality struck him.

Jongho was waiting for him.

Hopefully, Jongho would be more understanding than Wooyoung's professor but somehow he doubted it.

162 notes · View notes

edenesth · 1 month ago

Text

TWTHH Bonus: The Little Lotus Blooms

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: This takes place after all of the members' spinoffs. It's probably best for you to finish everything before reading this, but it can also be read if you do not mind spoilers and have no intention of reading the spinoffs.

Fic Masterlist | Spinoff Masterlist

"Still stuck on the baby's name, I see," came the familiar voice that never failed to both irritate and amuse your husband. Seonghwa smirked, his hand still gently rubbing your tummy. "And what does that have anything to do with you?"

The dressmaker scoffed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense as he approached. "It has everything to do with me, especially since I'm clearly going to be the godfather of this little one."

You smiled, but before you could respond, the general spoke first. "In your dreams, Kim Hongjoong. You won't be this one's godfather, so it's time to let go of that fantasy. If you're so eager to be a father, I suggest you focus on having one of your own. After all, you're about to have a Mrs. of your own soon enough."

Before Hongjoong could form a coherent response, he sputtered and flailed, completely caught off guard by the mention of his upcoming wedding. His face flushed a deep crimson, and for a moment, he looked utterly lost. After what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to find his voice.

"T-that's… none of your business!" he stammered, clearly flustered. After all, it had taken him forever to gather the courage to propose to poor Miss Baek. The lengthy courtship had almost convinced the girl's family that the dressmaker had no real intention of marriage, leading to whispered doubts that he was just stringing their daughter along. He hadn't heard the end of it until the day he finally asked for her hand.

Just as he opened his mouth to shoot back a retort at Seonghwa, another voice broke into the conversation.

"About damn time, Kim!" Yunho called out, his deep laughter filling the room as he approached. The physician looked far too smug, and the gleam of amusement in his eyes only made Hongjoong's face burn brighter. The dressmaker shot him a glare.

"Don't get all cocky just because you got married slightly earlier than I did!" the older male of the two snapped, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. "What are you even doing here?! The dinner isn't for hours."

The general and his wife shared a knowing look, unable to stifle their chuckles as the doctor raised a brow at the accusation.

"I could ask you the same," Yunho replied, unfazed. He gestured to the bags of medical supplies at his feet. "I'm here to ensure the mistress is in optimal condition before meeting everyone, of course."

Hongjoong sniffed, waving a dismissive hand before gesturing to the garments draped over his arm—a collection of beautifully embroidered hanboks. "And I'm here to ensure she looks as stunning as always. Just as important as you, Jung. Don't flatter yourself. I understand good health is essential," he added, glancing the taller man up and down pointedly. "But clearly, a complete lack of fashion sense can be just as problematic."

Yunho's eyes widened in sheer offence. "Excuse me? What do you mean, a lack of fashion sense?! My wife said I looked—"

The dressmaker lifted a hand, silencing him immediately. "Of course she did, my friend. She's your wife; she has to say that. But I'm not, so I can be brutally honest."

Yunho's mouth opened, then closed again, clearly affronted. "You—"

"Don't take it too personally," Seonghwa interjected, his smirk deepening as he rested a protective hand over your belly. "You know how he is. The moment there's even a whiff of competition, he'll immediately declare himself the best at whatever it is."

"Which is everything," Hongjoong sniffed, lifting his chin proudly.

"That's debatable," the general drawled with a pointed look.

Hongjoong's mouth opened, ready with a comeback, but the doctor raised a hand to cut him off, the irritation from earlier melting into weary acceptance. "Alright, alright, let's get back to why I'm actually here—to make sure our dear Lady Park and the baby are doing well."

The dressmaker rolled his eyes dramatically, waving Yunho off with a dismissive flick of his hand. "Fine, do your little check-up. But once you're done, it's my turn. I have real work to attend to—unlike some people who just poke needles into others all day."

Yunho sighed, dragging a hand down his face in feigned exasperation, while Seonghwa and you exchanged amused looks. They were always like this—bickering, teasing, and turning even the simplest interactions into a spectacle of humour and banter.

You smiled softly. Thinking back to when you first met them all, you never could have imagined that your husband's closest friends would become yours too, filling your life with such unexpected warmth.

Jongho sighed heavily as he stepped into the room, his gaze zeroing in on the dressmaker with a look of pure exasperation. "I swear, there can never be peace with you around. I told you to come an hour later, but you never listen—"

Hongjoong immediately raised a fist, eyes narrowing in mock indignation. "Watch your tone! I'm still older than you," he warned, but the assistant only rolled his eyes, unfazed as he reached out and unceremoniously grabbed the dressmaker by the sleeve.

"And if you don't cooperate, I'll tell Miss Baek you were being difficult again."

That instantly shut him up. The effect was almost comical—the once-feisty designer went rigid, then muttered something unintelligible under his breath before letting the younger man drag him out of the room. The rest of you couldn't hold back your laughter, chuckling at how quickly Hongjoong folded at the mere mention of his fiancée. It was a sight that never got old.

"Well," the physician grinned, shaking his head in amusement, "looks like we've finally found his weakness."

The general chuckled, his gaze lingering on the doorway where the two had vanished. "It's not just him. Look at the rest of us," he said, raising a brow knowingly.

You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a smile as Yunho continued his check-up, his touch gentle and practised as he listened for the baby's heartbeat. He looked so different now compared to when you'd first met—less guarded, more at ease. The once-serious physician now wore a relaxed smile as he worked. Miss Ryu truly had softened him, just like Miss Kwon had done for Jongho.

Your heart swelled at the thought. Absentmindedly, you rubbed your belly, glancing up at your husband with a soft expression. "They've all changed, haven't they?" you murmured quietly.

His eyes warmed as they met yours, his gaze filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. "Yes, they have. Just like I have," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. "All thanks to you."

Warmth spread through your chest, and you shifted your gaze back to Yunho, then to the door where Hongjoong and Jongho had disappeared moments before. A sense of anticipation bubbled within you as you thought of the others you'd be seeing later—San, Mingi, and Wooyoung, who had become like brothers to you, and, of course... Prince Yeosang, your dearest friend.

As you imagined future gatherings, you could already see a bustling and heartwarming scene filled with little ones running around, laughter and shouts echoing through the halls, and these men transforming into doting fathers and playful uncles.

Gosh, you could hardly wait to see it all unfold. The future seemed so bright and full of promise, and you knew, deep in your heart, that it would only get better from here.

"What's got you so deep in thought, my lady?" the dressmaker asked with a gentle smile as he carefully painted the signature flower on your forehead—the perfect final touch, as always.

You hesitated, biting your lip. "Do you think His Highness will come?"

Hongjoong scoffed lightly. "I genuinely have no idea, my lady. He seems awfully busy with his new princess," he remarked, and you nodded, a wide smile blooming on your lips.

"He is, and I'm so happy he's finally found someone."

"Then why does it matter if the prince is here?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. "Everyone already knows I'm going to be this little one's godfather anyway."

You clicked your tongue playfully, rolling your eyes. "Here we go again. I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."

He placed his hands on his hips, feigning offence. "I'm your idiot husband's oldest friend; it only makes sense that I get the title. The rest should just accept it and fall in line."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at his stubbornness. When he finally finished, he stepped back, giving you a once-over before softening, then moved to sit across from you. "You look stunning, my lady."

"Thank you, Joong, for always reminding me of that," you said warmly. "But flattery won't get you anywhere—I've already made up my mind, and it won't be you."

He shot up from his seat, gasping dramatically. "What do you mean it won't be me?! You can't do this to me!"

Before you could respond, the doors to the House of Lotus swung open, and your husband entered. This time, however, he wasn't alone. In his arms, nestled close and bundled in delicate silks, was a little something—or rather, someone—very dear to your heart.

"That's enough, Kim Hongjoong," Seonghwa drawled, his voice tinged with mock annoyance as he stepped forward. "How greedy can you be, huh? You're already Yeonjoo's godfather. I'm not giving you the title again for our next child."

Your heart swelled at the sight—the way it always did whenever you saw your little princess cradled in her father's loving embrace. Her soft giggles filled the room as her tiny fingers curled around his sleeve, and a smile spread across your face. That's right—Hongjoong had been named godfather to your firstborn two years ago. Much to your disappointment, the prince hadn't been able to attend her birth celebration despite his promise, but you understood. He had new priorities and commitments. Still, a small part of you hoped he'd be here this time—for the sake of old memories, and perhaps to provide a sense of closure.

The dressmaker's eyes lit up, and his earlier sulkiness vanished as he nearly skipped forward, excitement radiating off him. "Oh, my little Yeonjoo!" he cooed, his face softening as he reached out to take her carefully from your husband's arms.

"Ugh, fine," he muttered, holding her close and gently stroking her hair as if she were the most delicate thing in the world. "I bet you're just trying to spare my precious Yeonjoo from getting jealous. I suppose one of those other losers can have the honour for the next one," he grumbled, pouting slightly as he gazed down at the little girl.

You chuckled softly at his dramatic tone. Titles aside, it was clear Hongjoong adored your daughter deeply. She looked up at him with wide, shining eyes and a bright smile that could melt even the sternest of hearts, and it was obvious she shared that affection. You watched, warmth flooding your chest, as she patted his cheek clumsily, babbling a string of sweet nonsense that made the man's expression melt into a delighted grin.

"See? Even she agrees," he sniffed proudly, shooting a triumphant look at Seonghwa.

The general rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, but the fondness in his gaze was unmistakable. "Just because my daughter doesn't know better yet doesn't mean I'll indulge you."

"Your appa's just being mean," Hongjoong murmured softly to Yeonjoo, his voice filled with exaggerated sympathy. The little girl giggled, her laughter bright and clear. "But don't worry, sweetheart. You'll always be godfather's number one."

You shook your head, laughter bubbling in your chest as you watched them. "Honestly, Joong, you're going to spoil her rotten."

"Going to?" Seonghwa quirked a brow, looking amused. "He already has." Then he turned his gaze to you, his eyes softening. "But I think our princess deserves to be spoiled a little, don't you?"

You smiled up at him. "Of course. Only the best for our little girl."

"Well, since I won't be the next one's godfather," Hongjoong said, feigning indifference, "who are you going to pick? Don't tell me you're actually considering one of those blockheads."

You exchanged a knowing look with your husband before turning back to the dressmaker, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Maybe. Or maybe I have someone else in mind entirely."

As if on cue, Eunsook, your head maid, appeared at the entrance and offered a respectful bow, her smile warm. Right beside her was Miss Kwon, the ever-diligent maternity expert, who immediately stepped forward, carefully guiding you to your feet.

"The guests have arrived, master and mistress," Eunsook announced softly.

Hongjoong sighed dramatically but complied, reluctantly handing Yeonjoo back to her father. "I suppose I should join the rest of those ruffians then," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the child's cheek before straightening up with a smirk. "See you out there, General and Lady Park."

With one last playful wink, the dressmaker slipped out, leaving the room with a swirl of elegant robes. Your heart fluttered in anticipation, excitement bubbling up within you. You were going to see all your friends again—the people who had become your family over the years.

As Seonghwa cradled your daughter close, his free hand reached for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You glanced up at him, smiling softly, and he returned the look, his gaze brimming with unspoken emotions. Together, you made your way toward the hall.

"You look well, my lady. Did the medication I recommended help with your sleep disturbances?" Royal Physician Ahn asked as she approached, her voice gentle yet laced with the attentiveness of a true healer. It was the first chance she'd had to speak with you after the initial rounds of greetings exchanged. You had grown fond of her since meeting her at the royal banquet, and especially so after Mingi had begun openly courting her. Since then, she'd been a constant presence in your life, whether by her own will or by His Majesty's orders, assisting in your care both during the last birth and your current pregnancy.

You nodded warmly, squeezing her hand in return. "It did, Physician Ahn. It worked like magic. I've been sleeping like a baby lately, all thanks to you."

Her shoulders relaxed visibly, and she let out a soft sigh of relief. You couldn't help the grin that tugged at your lips as you leaned closer, your tone turning mischievous. "Congratulations on your engagement, by the way. Who would have thought Officer Song had it in him to win you over, hm?"

A delicate blush painted her cheeks as she stammered, utterly flustered. But before you could tease her further, a tall shadow loomed beside her, and Mingi stepped in, a broad grin spreading across his face as he slid an arm around his fiancée's shoulders. "Now, now, Lady Park, let's not overwhelm her," he chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection. "You know she's still not used to all the attention."

"I'm simply complimenting your success, Officer Song," you shot back playfully. "It's not every day someone catches the interest of the Royal Physician."

Mingi's grin widened, but before he could respond, another voice interjected, stealing your attention.

"Look at you, Lady Park. It feels like just yesterday we were celebrating little Yeonjoo's birth, and now, here we are again, awaiting another mini Park. You and the general certainly don't waste time, do you?" Scholar Moon's teasing tone cut through the room as she approached, linked arm-in-arm with her husband, Royal Secretary Choi.

You felt your cheeks flame at the comment, especially when San shot his wife a chiding look and squeezed her arm as if to gently rein her in. "Darling, don't embarrass the lady," he murmured softly, though the amusement in his eyes belied his words.

You tried to sputter a reply, mortified, but before you could get a word out, a familiar warmth appeared at your side. Your husband was suddenly there, his presence solid and reassuring, a small, amused smirk playing at his lips. He looked so effortlessly charming, and it made your heart flutter just looking at him.

"Indeed, we don't waste time," he agreed smoothly, his gaze shifting playfully to Scholar Moon. "But perhaps it's time you and San hurry up and have one of your own as well, Scholar Moon."

Her mouth fell open in shock, eyes widening as she spluttered, "I—! We're not—!"

"I don't think we're quite there yet," Secretary Choi intervened gently, though his strained smile hinted at his own embarrassment. His eyes flicked between you and the general before landing back on his wife, whose face was now a bright shade of red.

Stifling a laugh, you nudged Seonghwa lightly. "Behave, Hwa," you murmured, though your grin betrayed your halfhearted scolding.

"But it's true, isn't it?" he persisted with mock innocence, raising an eyebrow. "Everyone knows San's eager to start a family. Why not make it official?" He cast the secretary's wife a pointed look, making her blush deepen to an alarming shade.

"You—!" she started, but before she could finish, a joyful peal of laughter rang out from across the room. You turned your head just in time to see Investigator Jung cradling Yeonjoo in his arms with his partner hovering close beside him with an adoring look on her face as she watched the two of them.

"Yeonjoo certainly knows how to charm everyone, doesn't she?" Miss Han remarked warmly, her gaze softening as she looked up at the little girl. "Just look at her. She's going to be quite the heartbreaker one day."

Wooyoung chuckled, gently bouncing the child and eliciting a delighted squeal from her. "With parents like these two? There's no doubt about it." He glanced over at you and Seonghwa, his playful expression turning sincere. "Congratulations again, General, Lady Park. Your family is truly blessed."

"Thank you, Wooyoung," you replied softly, watching as your daughter gurgled happily in his arms. Your gaze shifted to Miss Han, her presence calm and grounding beside him. "And I hope it's not long before we're congratulating the two of you as well."

She blushed, her eyes darting to Wooyoung, who just laughed, the sound rich and unburdened. "Perhaps soon," he murmured, a hint of promise in his voice. "But for now, let's focus on celebrating you."

It was then that you caught Miss Ryu's gaze from across the room—her smile brightening the moment your eyes met. Now officially Yunho's wife, she looked radiant as ever as she hurried over, her husband trailing behind her with a knowing grin.

"Oh, you're glowing, my lady. I'm convinced this one's a son," she said, her voice lilting with excitement.

The physician chuckled softly beside her. "She's been saying that for months now," he teased, gently squeezing her shoulder.

You shared a hopeful glance with Seonghwa before turning back to her. "Thank you. We've been hoping for a boy too," you admitted, warmth filling your chest at the thought.

Before anyone could say more, Hongjoong sauntered over, his arm loosely wrapped around his fiancée's back. "I'm sure having a son is nice and all," he scoffed lightly, "but are you positive that's why she's glowing?" His gaze turned mischievous as he leaned forward, clearly fishing for compliments.

Miss Baek's eyes widened, and she gave him a small nudge, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Joong, please…"

But the dressmaker, being himself, merely shot her a wink. He cast a playful look at the physician's wife, who raised a brow in challenge. The teasing rivalry between them was no secret, and it extended to their spouses as well.

"If you think it's your makeup skills making her glow, I'm going to have to scientifically explain to you why it's a lot more than just your artificial tools enhancing her appearance," the herbalist shot back with a laugh, her words soft yet precise. Her analytical nature was showing, and it made Yunho's smile grow wider.

Hongjoong's jaw dropped, feigning outrage. "Excuse me? Are you doubting my artistic abilities, Mrs. Jung?"

Just then, Jongho appeared, his hand linked with Miss Kwon's as they joined the growing circle. He rolled his eyes, already looking exasperated. "Please, don't start. I swear, every time you two are in the same room, it turns into a debate."

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head as you glanced around at the gathered group. Yet, despite the lively chatter and warm company, there was still a lingering sense of something—someone—missing. You found yourself scanning the room again, your heart dipping slightly as you realised that perhaps he truly wasn't coming after all. Maybe the promises of friendship had been nothing more than a polite white lie to comfort you back then. Perhaps…

"Apologies for our tardiness! It felt like the entire city decided to celebrate with us today—the crowds made it nearly impossible for our carriage to get through smoothly."

The deep, familiar voice cut through the air, and everyone's heads whipped around in unison. After a moment of stunned silence, they quickly bowed deeply, voices mingling in a respectful murmur.

"These subjects greet Your Highnesses."

Yeosang and his wife exchanged quick, flustered glances before raising their hands to stop the gesture. "Oh no, please! There's no need for such formality," the newly minted fourth princess said warmly. "We're here as friends today."

It was your first time meeting her, but her grace and kindness were immediately apparent, and you found yourself thinking how perfectly she complemented the prince. Your heart, which had felt heavy just moments ago, lightened at the sight of the couple as they stepped forward to join the circle.

The fourth prince's gaze found yours, and he flashed you a familiar, boyish grin. "I hope we haven't missed too much. Please, let the princess and me know how we can make up for our tardiness."

Your smile softened warmly. "Better late than never, Your Highnesses." You glanced at your husband, a sense of peace washing over you as he gave you a gentle, encouraging nod.

"No need to worry," you continued with a welcoming tone. "You haven't missed anything major. After all, the main event can't truly begin without the new baby's godparents present." The royal couple's eyes widened in surprise at your words, while the rest of your friends cheered.

"And you can make up for being late by accepting the role," General Park added with a teasing smile.

And that is all, folks. This is the final chapter and it officially concludes the TWTHH series. It's a bittersweet feeling to end it; it's undoubtedly one of my proudest creations, but I'm also super excited to finally be able to work on newer things!

Once again, I just want to thank each and every one of you for being with me on this journey. I hope this epilogue was decent! Perhaps some of you might not agree with who I've chosen to be little Park's godfather (but my heart wants what it wants lmfao). Y'all, let me know your thoughts! It'd be awesome if you could share a bit about how you stumbled upon this story and what you liked about it! <3

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#edenesth #the way to his heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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atozfic · 1 year ago

Text

splish splash.

pairing. san x seonghwa x wooyoung x yunho x fem!reader synopsis. they’re out to prove who’s the best at the breast-stroke- gets dragged off stage as the people boo over such a terrible pun. warnings. no use of y/n, swim team au, lifeguard!reader, pro-swimmers!sanhwawooho, they’re all wearing speedos :), smut ( porn with unnecesary plot, degradation, m+f oral sex, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, triple penetration bc u got 3 holes for a reason sweetcheeks, mxm interactions, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, hair pulling, way more warnings that there’s honestly no point listing, just know this is pure filth that covers most bases of stereotypical fanfiction smut, mother in christ what have i written? ) no verbal consent is given throughout this but all parties are willing participants !! word count. 20k+ ( of literal porn. i need to leave this physical terrain bc i am not worthy of existing after writing this i fear. ) hyde’s input. hey girlie pops, long time no see.

it’s crazy, what some people will do for money.

take, for example, your roommate. she’s a smart girl. a beautiful one, too. with a promising future in criminal law, once she gets herself that pesky little degree. and, yet, she’s funding her tuition with money she earns distributing high-end drugs on campus. rather counter-productive, most would agree. or, in a far less extreme version, there’s that overly-hyper frat boy, who can always be found doing the dumbest dares at a party, all for a few bucks and a keg of beer.

and then there is you.

you would have arrived home twenty minutes ago at this point, had things gone to plan, a backlog of neglected assignments and a baby bonsai tree in need of watering desperately awaiting your return. yet here you are, stuck in your ugly flip-flops and uncomfortably stale shorts, whistle around your neck and a look of exhaustion on your face.

the swimming pool had closed, technically, an hour and a half ago. the sports centre seems to believe, however, that certain members of the college swim team reserve the right to use the pool for however long they require and desire, even if it is at your expense. if you were being paid overtime, perhaps you’d have a more positive outlook on things and less of a frown creasing on your forehead.

if the swimmers weren’t so irritating, maybe you’d enjoy the view.

“all that height, and for what?” the sophomore boy’s voice- jung wooyoung? you aren’t overly familiar with him, seeing him only in sporadic flashes when you pass each other on campus or at some uncivilised frat party- echos through the large room, his hair a wet mess. if you were gaining anything from being here, you’d perhaps muster up the energy to remind the boy of how a swim cap is necessary at all times in the water. “can’t even out-swim me with those long legs!”

“wanna know what my long legs are for?” jeong yunho, a junior with the face of an angel and the body proportions of a sinner, pipes up from across the olympic length pool. unlike the other boy, a crimson cap keeps his own locks out of sight. “climbing up the stairs to go fuck your mom!”

it’s impossible to stifle your laughter, no matter how hard you try to just play it off as a tickle at the back of your throat, a cough forcing its way out. when your eyes meet those of the glaring senior, however, you’re wishing you hadn’t made a sound.

“even the lifeguard can’t take you seriously, yunho,” park seonghwa speaks, eyes not leaving yours as his muscled arms work to pull himself out of the water, before letting his well-rounded behind sit down on the edge. a breath hitches in your throat as his gloriously muscled thighs come into view, drops of water cascading down them in a pattern set to hypnotise you, keep you staring a little longer than is good for your health. “bet she’s heard all about you and the boner incident of 2019.”

truthfully, you have no clue what the dark haired male is on about. that doesn’t stop you from laughing again though, this time a little out of malice and a lot because it’s quite endearing to see a loudmouth like jeong yunho be silenced so easily, head bowed and ears a little rosier with embarrassment.

this small moment of peace is soon shattered by the reality that these boys can’t spend more than ten minutes in a room- particularly one that includes a pool- without arguing. while one boasts about his speed, the other begins to jab at his lack of endurance, and the remaining of the three reminds them all of the fact he holds the most medals amongst them.

“are they always like this?” you jump, surprised by the cold drop of water that lands on your exposed thigh, all courtesy of the boy who’s invited himself to sit down next to you on the bench.

“not always,” you bite at the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to not look at san in all his wet glory. you’re afraid that, once you start looking at him, you won’t be able to stop. it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen victim to the crime that is his enchanting smile. “guess they’re feeling a little feistier than usual, with the district championship just around the corner. rumour has it one of you guys is risking his scholarship if he’s not in the top three.”

are you and san close?

that’s a good question. see, by social standards, you’re not strangers. you share several classes, you attend the same parties, you’ve even texted a few times- mostly on the days one of you miss class (read as: san misses class thanks to his swim-meets) and you need a copy of any notes taken that lesson.

but, you aren’t exactly friends either. you don’t go out of your ways to spend time together, you don’t know more than the surface level about one another, you don’t check-in with each other.

so, is acquaintances the best word to describe you two?

that depends on how common it is for an acquaintance to suck another acquaintance’s cock. granted, there had been a lot of alcohol in the mix, on both ends, with you drinking to forget a botched assignment and san drinking to forget how badly his voice had apparently cracked in front of his crush.

a few weeks have passed since the incident and things haven’t exactly been the same. you’ve missed class twice and ended up contacting heather- a sweet girl who sits down by the front and seems to live with her hand raised in the air- for any notes. likewise, san has found himself declining party invitations, the knowledge that you would be there all too prevalent in the front of his mind.

the irony is that neither of you quite know the reason why you’re avoiding each other, you just are.

or, were, until san had walked in with his swim team buddies- if they could even be considered that- and spotted you in your lifeguard attire. he hadn’t been as slick as he thought he was, sneaking glances at you between laps and even gaining an undeniable smile each time he watched you blow that stupid whistle at some misbehaving kids.

he was slicker with the fact he didn’t need to be here, at this hour. but, he figured staying gave him the chance to stare at you a little longer and, maybe, think up an excuse to talk to you.

“i should-”

“i missed-”

you both speak at the same time, minutes after watching the three musketeers disappear into the locker rooms, with the smallest of them continuing to dig at them for not being able to out-swim him despite their ample amount of height. san’s quick to signal you to go first, a dimple making itself known on his face and reminding you of the deadliest part of him: the false innocence that drips off him like warm candy.

sweet, sticky, making a mess all over the place.

“i should probably start cleaning up.” it turns out san also isn’t discreet when it comes to hiding the disappointment in his face, because no sooner than those words leave your mouth, the dimple is gone and he’s sat a little straighter, a little more ridged, like when the professor points him out in the middle of the class and the golden boy can’t stomach all the attention being on him. “but, what were you gonna say?”

“oh,” and it’s like he’s just remembered that yes, there is something he wants to say. “i missed you in class yesterday.”

it catches you off guard, leaving you to almost drop the whistle you’ve been fiddling between your fingers for the past few minutes. something about sitting so close to him while both of you are dressed so scantily has you feeling unnerved, like you need to run away as fast as possible, yet also wanting to plant yourself right in his lap.

“i didn’t think,” you’re cut off by your own throat, dry and desperate for a drink under his intense gaze. san is a walking contradiction, you think, with his sharp cheekbones and soft heart, his intense eyes and his easy-going smile. his presence gives you never-ending whiplash, never sure if he’s more angel than devil. “i didn’t think you noticed.”

“how could i not? there was no one to laugh with me at professor nam and his weird toe-shoes!” his laugh is infectious, willing your own to make an appearance.

the sound of distant muffled yelling fills the air of the swimming pool and it isn’t hard to recognise wooyoung’s high-pitched laughter amongst it. clearly, their childish arguing has carried on into the changing rooms. it surprises you in no way, already more than used to their antics.

their rivalry is one for the ages, all of them constantly bumping heads for the spot of the top swimmer on campus, their sports scholarships becoming their pride and joy.

you suppose it doesn’t help that all four boys run in different circles, only really crossing paths when faced with swim-meets and days of practice. the senior, park seonghwa, runs with the richer kids of the college, all sharing their trust-funds and god complexes as a common interest. you’re not overly familiar with them, though you’re certain he and a particular blue-haired boy are rarely seen apart. jeong yunho, the tallest, is in with the jocks, which is mostly just because his taller friend is the captain of the basketball team. and jung wooyoung tends to surround himself with the stoners from the school, something you’d learned from kang yeosang, a dealer you shared a couple classes with back in your first semester.

san, ever the golden boy, drifts between a couple different groups but he can usually be found alone and enjoying his own company, if not being followed by a flock of his own little fan-club, men and women alike begging for just an ounce of his time.

your name echos around the room. your head snaps to the side and you find that san is now closer, staring at you in a way that’s making your insides knot up. you’ve seen that look only once before, and it done nothing but leave your knees and your ego bruised. “were you listening to me?”

“what? uh, yeah, i was,” you’re quick to lie, knowing it’s about to backfire when he breaks out in a challenging grin.

“really? what did i say?” he only allows you to stumble over words for a minute before cutting off your incomprehensible speaking when he grabs at your chin and tilts your head up, staring straight into your eyes. “that’s what i thought. you were too busy getting lost in that pretty little head of yours to pay attention to me.”

you stutter over a noise and settle for that as your response, though entirely incomprehensible and nonsensical. the way he continues to stare at you feels cruel, demons dancing around in those pretty eyes of his. demons that are telling him to tease, torture, torment the fragile eyes staring back at him, the same ones he’d delighted in watching fill up with tears a few weeks back, the pressure of his crown slamming against the back of your tight throat entirely overwhelming you to the point of crying, tears dripping down your cheeks and mixing with your own drool pooling over the swell of his balls.

“need me to repeat myself?” you’re slow to catch up to the fact he’s speaking again, and even slower to notice the hand resting on your knee. at first, you think you’re imagining things, the feather light tracing of nails over your soft skin a mere figment of your imagination. but, no, your eyes flash down to glimpse and his hand is there, fingers dancing over your naked skin like it’s their own personal stage and he’s intending to put on the show of a lifetime. he speaks your name. “questions are meant to be answered.”

“i-” san picks the perfect time to apply pressure on you, hand gripping the flesh on the lower end of your thigh. goosebumps spring to life at the feeling of his cold ring on your damp skin. it takes a shaky breath to try compose yourself but you do eventually manage to get a reply out. “sorry... please say it again.”

“huh,” he pauses to contemplate, slowly leaning his face closer to your own, giving you all the time to pull back if you want to. you stay still and his minty breath infects your senses while the hand on your leg replaces your thigh with your face, the grip he has on it forcing blunt nails to nip at your skin. normally, you’d worry about the marks it’s going to leave behind. right now, you want him to grip tighter, dig deeper into your flesh till he’s drawing blood and licking it off your cheeks. “how the fuck do you still sound so cute begging?”

“is that,” his other hand curls around the back of you, finding a resting place on your hip. the window of opportunity you once had to pull back or run away is slammed shut the moment he tugs you a little closer, the side of your body crashing into his naked chest. “what you said earlier?”

“oh, no.” san almost sounds like he’s cooing, a mocking tone in his voice that has your thighs clenching in a way you’re sure he notices. his eye flickering down to glance at them confirms your suspicions, the smirk taking over his features the metaphorical cherry on top. “i was just talking about how i’ve still not returned the favour.”

mind blanking out on you, you stare back at him in what you can only imagine to be a dumb-founded look, mouth slightly agape and teasing your answer.

what follows, however, is a resounding silence on your end.

“c’mon, princess, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what happened the last time i got you alone.”

forget? it’s all you’ve been able to think of every time you’ve seen him since, whether he was a figure in the corner of your eye during class or making his way down the campus car-park in search of his beaten up mustang.

each time, like an old record player, your mind plays on loop the way he looked staring down at you, long legs spread enough to fit you between them, closing in on you to trap you in place each time you swallowed him a little deeper; replaying the symphony of whiny moans and airy breaths you’d pulled from him, lips swollen and red from trying too hard to hold back his cries of pleasure; reviving the memory of his vice grip on your hair, tugging at the roots to tilt you back into the perfect angle for his hips to piston into your warm mouth, meeting his own crescendo in one final pathetic whimper of your name.

a whimper that’s pushed you over the edge several times since, fingers soaked in your own sins and mouth biting down on your pillow to keep your poor sleeping roommate oblivious to your actions.

“no,” an answer escapes you alongside a shaky breath, something about the way he’s slowly trailing his fingers down your neck and the intensity he’s staring at you with hypnotising you into forgetting all about the boisterous boys and their changing-rooms chanting. “haven’t forgot.”

it’s his turn to stay quiet and you begin to wonder if he’s recalling it too, if he’s reminding himself of how easily your bodies melted together, like candle-wax meeting a flame. the question of if he’s thought about the exact scene, hands stuffed down his pants while a dull ache builds in his wrist, burns the tip of your tongue.

but his eyes burn you more.

they’re usually wide, bright, full of that bubbly nature san is known all over for. but, if what people say is true and the eyes are the mirror to one’s soul, then san’s soul must be a dark pit made up of lustful glares and hooded eyelids, resting so low his eyes almost appear shut.

“then, don’t you agree that it’s my turn to have a taste?”

it’s the question to end all questions, no time to even think of forming an answer when his fingertips are dancing over your skin so rhythmically, like a practiced choreography when they curl and wrap themselves around your neck. they rest there for a heartbeat, and then another, before you feel it begin.

the pressure is dull, at first, and you think you’re imagining it. but it grows, like a seed under the sun, blossoms into thorns squeezing around your airways, a deformed rose made from the red marks his fingers will be sure to leave behind.

you try to breath in, only for it to get caught somewhere between your lips and his tightening hold.

“you’re too fucking pretty, you know?” the hand on your hip has found a new home on your cheek, palm warm and thumb rough as he swipes it over your bottom lip. “all i can ever think about around you, even when you were drooling all over my balls.”

you want to answer, you really do. but between the hand around your throat and the heat shooting straight for your core, burning up in a puddle of arousal, you can’t. all you can do is watch the man before you, raven hair a beautiful mess just begging for some fingers to be ran through it and stare promising to ruin you in the best way possible.

the silence pleases him.

“y’know, it’s so hard to get you alone. always got someone wanting to talk to you, stealing your attention. do you even know how many stupid parties i had to attend to finally get the chance to talk to you?” san pauses, like he’s waiting for you to relay an answer, guess a number. he loosens up the grip on your neck, teasing your skin with a few soothing strokes of his slender fingers, lulling you into a state bordering insanity. “no answer, angel? or are you lost in that pretty little head again?”

“i’m,” your voice is but a whisper, raspy with your new found thirst. “trying to figure out what you want from me.”

if it’s the wrong or right thing to say, you’re soon to find out, the sharp faced boy releasing a dangerously low chuckle as he takes a hold of your chin. like a pretty doll, you move any time and any way his fingers command you to, finding yourself staring right up into his eyes, a swirl of melting caramel that reminds you of how sweet yet sultry every inch of him is. lips near touching, he refuses to break eye contact as he speaks up once more, sealing both your fates when his breath hits your face.

“then let me show you what i want.”

his mouth comes down on yours like it’s the answers to all your prayers and, yet, all your nightmares.

it excites you how easily he works his lips over your own, captivating every inch of you when he tilts his head to the right and deepens the kiss. the rhythm to his kiss is a mismatch of beats, where one moment your lips are moving in a sensual waltz, grazing tongues and dipping heads to get rid of that inch of a space remaining between your bodies, and the next moment your tongues are tangled in a tango, the kind where his teeth send blood rushing to your lips with every bite he drags over them and his hand drags shivers down your spine as it makes its way down your body.

yet it terrifies you how willingly you succumb to san’s touch, intoxicated by whatever witchcraft he currently holds over you. there’s a deadliness to the way his lips part from your own only to begin a seamless descent down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, a poisonous element to the way his hand once again finds itself clutching the meat of your thigh.

the moment his fingertips meet the bottom of your shorts, you’re wishing you’d never slipped them on in the first place, every fibre of your being growing angsty under the weight of his suddenly halted hand. it stays still for an immeasurable amount of time, grazing over the bottom of your shorts occasionally while he continues to mouth at your neck.

like mosses and the great sea, san parts your legs with little to no effort, creating a pathway for his fingers to travel further up your thigh. blunt fingernails drag up your skin, a trail of goosebumps being left behind, a visible marking of where he’s touching you.

his movements halt too soon for your liking, too much distance between his lithe fingers and your body’s very core.

“have you figured out what i want yet, pretty?” his voice is a stark difference to the usual light-hearted, almost squeak-like tone you’ve grown used to hearing from the smiley boy. right now, there’s no trace of humour in the thick rasp and there’s no time for smiling while he’s glaring down at you through hooded eyes.

something compels you to nod your head, even though you’re a little too lost in the thoughts concerning what you want, rather than what the devil incarnate by your side wants.

“you have?” the words come out in a layer of amazement, and you have to wonder if it’s because of the lie you’ve just told or the way your legs have closed in around his hand, trapping it between them. “i want to know what you want, though.”

you want his thumb to stop stroking over the flesh of your inner thigh.

you want his eyes to stop gazing down at you like you’re the perfect prey.

you want him to stop teetering your impending pleasure on a string.

you want-

“you.” is all you manage to breath out.

it seems to do the trick, however, your point getting very much across to him. a softness flickers over his features, brows unfurling and smirk curling up into a full smile for what feels like an eternity, but is actually no more than a couple of seconds before his devilish aura is back.

lips meet lips again, the desperation and force behind each stroke of his tongue against yours the same as before. san, much to your delight, seems to grow just as impatient as you’ve been since the moment he welcomed himself into the empty space next to you on the bench.

one hand still resting between your thighs, his other seizes the opportunity to drag your body closer, so close that you have no choice but to swing one leg over him and slot yourself in his lap.

there was one time, in the middle of what you’ve deemed to be the most boring lecture ever, that you had thought about what it would feel like to sit in choi san’s lap. unintentionally, of course, for how could anyone look over at him in those grey sweatpants, legs manspreading like it was nobody’s business and pen tapping away at the table in front of him, and not daydream about being perched in his lap, head resting somewhere between his shoulder and his soft hair?

you’d imagined him to be the embodiment of soft and comfortable, warm and reassuring the way he’d lazily lay an arm over your hip to make sure there’s no risk of you slipping out of your new seat. you never, for the life of you, imagined you’d feel the outline of his dick resting against your ass the first time you finally claimed your throne.

choosing to not dwell on the heavy feeling of him pressed against you, you choose instead to focus on the way his lips trail away from yours and make their descent towards the top of your chest.

his hand abandons post between your thighs and rises to the surface, where long fingers begin to pull at the straps of your red swimsuit, successfully manoeuvring the nylon material till it’s bunched around your midriff and your breasts are exposed to the damp air of the swimming hall.

with no want left to play around, he dives right in to dragging his lips down the upper swell of your left breast. you imagine he can feel the beating of your racing heart beneath the goosebump littered skin. it doesn’t take long for his tongue to enter the scene, skilfully flicking over your hardened nipple a couple times before enveloping his mouth around the bud.

one, two, three sucks and he’s moving on to your right breast. there’s no lead up, this time, simply his mouth finding delight in toying with your body while he busies his hand with your left side, thumb and pointer finger rolling and tugging and spreading the remnants of his saliva over your heated skin.

the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and has you arching your own, is the faintest pressure of his teeth biting down on you. it dances on a thin line between pleasurable and painful, exhilarating enough to make you throw your head back as a moan slips past your lips. it echoes in the empty room, replaying your own sound for both of you to hear again and again before the chain is broken by a giggle.

his giggle.

“why are,” he picks the right time to trail his fingers down your body, dragging your swimsuit with them till it sits uncomfortably tight around the top of your hipbones, skintight fabric digging into the damp skin. “you laughing?”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty your tits are?” it’s crude and heartwarming all at once, quite like the man who says it and the little smile he shoots up in your direction as he rolls his tongue over your nipple once again.

“no, i can’t say they have.” the hands that have been resting on his shoulder, grasping them in a vice grip in fear of slipping off of him and and directly onto the concrete floor, gain enough confidence for you let one slide around to the back of his neck and thread your fingertips in the back of his locks, hair as soft as you’ve always imagined it to be. “you’re the first.”

“i’ll wear that title with honour,” he seems to delight in the way you’re carding through his hair, eyes closing while he tilts his head back further into your touch. a delighted sigh follows. “has anyone ever asked you to sit on their face?”

“again, no.”

“another honourable title for me, i guess.” san’s giving you whiplash, with all this switching between being his usual goofy self and the man that minutes before was speaking profanities on how you’d looked choking on his dick. he peaks his eyes open again, slowly, adjusting to the bright lights he stares up at each time he’s doing the backstroke. when he has the nerves to smile at you, all dreamy eyed and relaxed sitting beneath your body on the bench. “now, can you please stand up and get naked so you can fuck yourself on my tongue?”

this time, it’s your laugh that echoes in the air.

“stop, i’m being serious!” he seems to whine his way through his words, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly in a way you’re certain is going to drive you insane. “i can’t go another second like this, you literally sitting on my dick, without blowing my load. and i really don’t feel like having to explain to coach kwon why my team speedos are stained in cum.”

“you’re so-” you give up on trying to find a single word to describe him, knowing there’s no word that can quite capture choi san’s essence. “okay, okay, fine, but you kind of need to let go of me for me to, y’know, stand up.”

“oh, sorry bout that.” san’s sheepish smile shouldn’t be this cute, not when it’s followed by him removing his hands from your half-naked body.

reluctant, your feet meet the ground and you stand up from his lap. he seems to move quicker than you, no hesitation to be seen as he twists his body around and lays along the bench on his back, eyes all the while watching you expectantly.

your fingers are far from as nimble as his, and there’s a shake to them, meaning you’re a lot less slick with how you pull the swimsuit off yourself. you opt for killing two birds with one stone, dragging your shorts down alongside the red suit, till both are pooled around your feet and you’re begging with every cell in your body that you look more graceful than you feel, stepping out of the leg holes.

in all honesty, you’re more embarrassed with the fact he’d watched you remove your clothes than with how you’re now stood naked, legs a little shaky and the wetness gathering between your folds you’re suddenly so much more aware of, the cool air fighting against your pulsating heat.

“well?” san speaks with expectation, legs bent at the knee while the balls of his feet rest on the edge of the bench. “are you gonna just stand there or you gonna sit on my face?”

“are you... sure you want me to?” even you feel the idiocy behind asking such a thing, when he’s laying right there with eyes full of glee and a raging boner pressed against his hip, nothing but the familiar colours of your college to stop you from seeing him all his naked glory. still, you can’t help elaborating. “i mean, the bench isn’t exactly sturdy and, i mean, what if i slip off of you?”

“y/n, are you joking? you have to be joking!” his offence is playful enough to ease a little of the hesitation inside of you. “do you see these puppies, baby? these are my mad gains from flailing my silly little arms around in a pool six days a week!”

you think this can’t be real as you watch the golden boy of the school put on a show, flexing his arms in an effort to display his muscles and voicing the most ridiculous words that not even he seems to be taking seriously, a bubble of laughter popping in every sentence.

“i’m not gonna let you slip, now hurry up!” again with the whining.

“god, you’re so desperate!”

“for you? always.”

the following minute is made up of wobbled steps and a poor attempt at amping yourself up, repeating mantra after mantra in your head that you are the sex goddess and no man is going to make you feel nervous. not even if that man has a jaw one could slice diamonds with.

he’s got a firm grasp of your thighs before you’ve even got the chance to get comfortable, legs a little shaky as you hover over his naked chest and will your knees to find grip on the bench beneath them.

“come closer, my tongue’s not that long!” san’s pulling you up, closer, all the way to where his wanton mouth awaits you. as if to give you a preview of what awaits you, the kisses from before reduced to nothing, his tongue pops out to run over the smooth of his bottom lip. you repeat the process of trying to find balance, a position in which you don’t need to worry about toppling overboard. though, with the way his finger squeeze into your thigh, you doubt you’ll have to worry about that truly happening. “comfortable?”

“as i’ll ever be.”

“all the people that would die to be in your position, and you say that?” he tsks, tongue hitting off the roof of his mouth before a blow of air hits against your folds and, though it’s faint from the distance still between his mouth and where he wants it to be, it sends a jolt of excitement up your spine. “i’ll just have to make sure i over-perform, make you more eager for next time.”

neither of you choose to dwell on the words next time.

him, too occupied with getting his first taste, tongue licking a strip up your core and coming to a stop as the tip of it bumps against your clit.

you, too busy having the air knocked out of your lungs, hand unconsciously finding safety in gripping his hair as you lurch forward momentarily, mouth falling open in a quiet gasp that echoes around and around.

“hmm, make sure you hold on tight.” you know he’s teasing you, with his words, and with his eyes, and with his mouth that seems to find enjoyment in trailing itself over your clitoral hood and up your pubic bone. “you smell mouthwatering, you know? enough to make a man go feral.”

the chance to reply never comes, not when san makes his way back down to your clit and greets it with the stroke of his flattened tongue. every tiny nerve sparks to life under his touch and you feel yourself grow wetter, a wave of warm arousal leaking out of your hole. his tongue dives down to welcome it, not allowing more than a single drop- landing on his chin- to go to waste.

you don’t even notice the lack of his grip around your left leg until you feel it: the first few seconds of his fingertips probing around your soaked cunt, coating themselves in your liquid pleasure until it’s dripping down the back of his hand.

the first finger to enter your hole is gentle, tentative to the way your body receives him, his pointer and ring finger keeping your folds spread and allowing him the full view of the middle one slowly disappearing from sight, burying itself in the warmth of your pussy. distracted, his mouth pulls back and his head meets the bench again while his eyes soak in the sight above him, flickering up to catch your reaction when another finger enters you, this time with a lot less care as it forces you open around it.

“so pretty,” he mutters the words, more to himself than to you, delighting as he witnesses you struggling to bite back a pathetic moan when his digits curl within you. he repeats the action a couple times, flicking his wrist back and forth, fingers brushing over your tight walls each time and culminating in a curl that has him pressing against the spongy-like flesh inside. “so, so pretty.”

your hips begin to rut against his hand, meeting every one of his thrusts with perfect timing that has him reaching deeper, further, better places inside of you. all the while he’s just watching and admiring the furrow in your brow and the way the swells of your breast bounce in sync with you.

your pussy clenches tighter and his fingers fight to reach deeper before spreading themselves wider in an attempt to scissor you open. he’s giving it his all, a third finger slipping in despite the dull ache setting in his wrist while he coaxes you closer and closer to the tipping point.

san takes just as easy as he gives, and it’s that fact alone that drives him to pull his hand back, fingers withdrawing from you and the pleasure you’re pursuing.

“why’d you-” you heave through heavy breaths, brain fuzzy from the unvoiced orgasm you were so close to having, every nerve ready to tingle, every muscle ready to tremble, every toe ready to curl. “stop?”

“because,” the wet smack of his fingers hitting against your clit is louder than the whimper that drops from your mouth. san hears both, however, and grins, quickly landing another smack against your engorged clit. “the goal is to make you cum on my face, not my fingers. consider them the appetiser, something to awaken your senses.”

his tongue licks in an upward motion, starting from the tip of your taint and ending at your clit, and you get deja-vu to just minutes before, when you’d first felt his tongue on your melting skin, the saliva it leaves in a trail behind it serving to cool you down. a shiver runs up your spine as he blows air onto your cunt, the pressure of it doing wonders to stimulate your clit.

“would you stop?”

“look who’s whining now.” san, despite what he says, does as you ask and puts an end what feels like unending teasing- really, it’s hardly been a minute but the pulsing of your heat and the loss of a climax leave you no room to think about something as abstract as time.

his lips make a victorious return, wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking against the pulsing nub. every so often, he delivers a couple kitten licks- ups and downs, sides to sides, figure eights- before swiftly returning to kissing your most intimate parts.

in an attempt to make your toes curl, he dips lower and teases the tips of his tongue over your entrance, wet muscle moving over wet skin and tastebuds covering themselves in your essence, till the moans echoing off the walls are indistinguishable between san’s and your own.

“you can move,” he grunts into you after a few minutes of repeated alternating between kissing your clit and tonguing at your hole. it’s muffled with the way he’s holding you down against his face and you feel his lips brush against your lower ones as he speaks. “need you to move. wanna see you use me, pretty.”

and, who are you to deny the man?

you’re hesitant at first, just like you were all those weeks ago as you sank to your knees for him. you test the waters and give a single roll of your hips. it feels good, great, especially when paired with his own efforts at dragging his tongue over you.

it takes a few more attempts, and san’s patience wearing thin to the point he resorts to grabbing a firm hold of your arse cheeks and planting you flat on his mouth, tongue flat and eyes staring up at you in a demand to move, goddamn it.

move you most certainly do, grinding down on his tongue like you’ve done many a time with different men’s cocks. it’s messy, sloppy in the way that his spit mingles with your wetness, a cocktail of fluids sliding down his throat, and painting his lips, and dribbling down his chin as he eats you like a man starved that’s alas getting a taste of the sweetest fruit.

the rhythm of your hips is thrown off when the man beneath you switches from having you grinding down onto his flattened tongue to slipping the muscle inside of your hole, thrusting it as far as up as the length of it allows him to. with every time your body comes crashing down on his mouth, the tip of his nose bumps against your clit, forcing you to angle yourself upwards to gain more of the friction.

hands find hair, lips part in unabashed moans, thighs shake with the oncoming of an orgasmic state of mind.

the moment builds too quickly, too unexpectedly, like the ghost of your stolen climax is back with a vengeance and set on ensuring there will be no denying it this time.

“s-shit,” your eyes squeeze shut, too scared to look down at his ecstasy filled eyes in fear of it being what finally tips you over the edge. “i’m gonna- ah- gonna cum.”

san pays no mind to your warning. if anything, he takes it as a challenge, an invisible timer beginning in his head and forcing him to see how quickly he can get you to unravel all over his face. he’s getting everything he asked for, your naked body a mess above him as you fuck yourself on his tongue and your hands, with minds of their own, sliding up to grab and squeeze at your tits.

he watches how the pastel blue nail polish clashes with the darkened colour of your abused nipples, fingers working to pinch, and twist, and pull at them as you lose yourself in the moment.

when you cum, it’s with rolled-back eyes and shaky thighs, his hands gripping at you tighter to steady you as you sway above him, his tongue working at coaxing you through your high.

he licks up every drop of cum he can manage, until you’re cringing in overstimulation and reaching down to push him away. he let’s you move him, mouth moving to trail a couple kisses over your inner thigh, something akin to lipstick stains- yet so much dirtier in nature- being left behind on your soft flesh.

“told you i wouldn’t let you fall,” he’s the first to speak, partly because he correctly thinks you’re incapable of forming anything coherent in the afterglow of your orgasm, but mostly because he wants- no, needs to hear you praise him.

needs to hear you praise him like he’d done for you that night, eyes still hooded and chest visibly heaving as he finished processing watching you swallow every spurt of hot cum he’d shot down your throat. the praise never comes.

well, at least not from you.

at first he thinks he’s imagining the sound of clapping. it’s slow, and booming, and tinted with the slightest hint of sarcasm. it grows louder though, far too loud for it to just be in his imagination. the stilling of your body, going rigid as you fall back onto his chest, the sticky remnants of your orgasm cold against his heated skin, confirms that you hear the clapping too.

“bravo, choi. always thought your reputation with the ladies was a little overhyped, but i stand corrected.”

never has he hated the sight of park seonghwa so much, not even in the times they’ve been head-to-head in the final lap and the older male’s offensively bright swim-cap is all san can see every time he twists his head to catch a breath of air.

the three swimmers stand on the opposite end of the swimming pool, all in various stages of undress.

there’s wooyoung, who looks like he’s not so much as dried himself with a towel, still dressed in his team swimwear. and yunho, who’s got a towel wrapped around his waist messily, hair damp against his forehead and likely smelling of the cheap shampoo provided in the locker-room showers. lastly, seonghwa, who’s seemingly fully dressed spar for one of those irritating long coats san always sees him trailing around campus in.

one look into your panicked eyes is enough for san to spring into action, fumbling to sit himself up and pull your body flush against his, facing your naked back in the direction of his rivals.

he bites back a groan as you shift in his lap, unknowingly- or maybe you do know- pressing your soaked centre against his erection, which already strains inside the confines of the nylon material, leaving very little to the imagination.

“do you mind?” he’s glad the words come out clearly, booming across the pool at them and their unwavering staring.

“not at all.”

san holds you tighter against him, eyeing at your discarded swimsuit on the floor as he listens to a shuffle of footsteps. assuming the three men have made their way back into the locker-room, he’s speechless when he looks up to find them approaching the bench, seonghwa leading the trio with a secure grip on the back of wooyoung’s neck, whose eyes can’t seem to leave the floor, while yunho trails a little behind them, one hand grasping onto the towel around him.

“get your hands off her!” he leans back, pulling you with him, in an attempt to stray out of seonghwa’s reach as he extends his hand out. he fails, however, and the tips of seonghwa’s elongated fingers brush over your shoulder.

a shiver runs down you, one that san feels, the unexpected touch tickling your nerves.

“she’s a grown up,” the eldest of the men muses as he builds a rhythm out of how his fingers soother over your sweat slicked skin. “who i’m sure can speak for herself if she wants my hands off her.”

out of all the men, seonghwa has always been the one san despised most. between the constant boasting of wealth- money he acquired through labor, though not the working kind- and the disrespect he’s never had a problem showing towards others, he never fails to strike a nerve, awakening a dark part of san’s brain that activates his fight or flight response. by far, however, his arrogance is the worst, that sense of entitlement that drives him to think everything and everyone is a piece of clay for him to mold and manipulate till they fit his ideal shape.

the rich boy’s hand smoothes over your naked shoulder and san can’t resist glaring up at him.

“c’mon san, now’s hardly the time to be modest,” behind the oldest swimmer, yunho and wooyoung seem to be battling an inner conflict, yunho fighting to keep his towel in place and wooyoung fighting to keep the shame off his face while his dick visibly strains against the confines of his chlorine-covered swimwear. “not after the show you two just put on.”

“we didn’t,” it’s the first time you manage to speak since covering san’s tongue in your cum, breathing at last steady and face hidden from everyone’s view, much to san’s despair. “know you were watching.”

“and, if you had known, would you have stopped?” yunho is the one asking the question and, suddenly, san’s so much more aware of what exactly he’s hiding underneath his towel.

you give no answer.

“of course she wouldn’t,” seonghwa answers for you, hand moving to grasp the back of your neck. with no warning, he grips a little too tight for comfort and and yanks you backwards, till you’re staring right into san’s eyes and the only thing keeping you perched in his lap is seonghwa’s body pressed flat against yours. “there’s nothing a whore loves more than an audience, right?”

if put on trial in a court of law and sworn to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, over whether or not you’d just clenched around nothing at park seonghwa’s degrading name, you’d plead that you never did such a thing.

you’d be found guilty.

“poor woo nearly came untouched just watching you two. isn’t that right?” the eldest turns to stare back at where you imagine wooyoung to be. “pretty boy nearly whined just at the thought of being in san’s position, a mouth full of cunt and someone using him like the fuck-toy he is.”

the air grows thick, between you, and san, and every other living being in the room. it feels like the walls are closing in on themselves with every second that passes, the sweat dripping down your back and coming to a rest between your arse cheeks evidence that the space is heating up. or maybe it’s just your body, hardly processing the high it’s just come down from and there’s already another source for a new-found arousal, a source in the shape of three muscular men stood behind you and one beneath you, eyes wary as he gazes into your own, like he wants to ask if you’re okay but all the blood is too busy circulating in his crotch for his brain to be productive.

“now, i hardly think it’s very nice of you to get our wooyoung all riled up and not even offer to help him out.” you decide you’re being lulled into a false sense of safety the second you feel the pressure of seonghwa’s hand leave your skin. behind you, there’s a shuffling of footsteps that call you to crane your neck and catch a glimpse of what exactly is going on but san’s eyes beg you to keep staring into his, to count the galaxies that dance within them while he grips at your waist. “so the chance to offer is off the table and you’re simply going to do as told. doesn’t that sound easier, hmm? no having to make pesky decisions, just spread those legs and follow orders.”

at last, you get your first glimpse at jung wooyoung.

he sits down on the bench, no more than a breath of space between where you and san are perched. he’s a vision in himself, shoulders hunched and embarrassed face the same shade of red as the tip of his cock, an angry looking bulbous head poking out the top of far-too-tight speedos.

san’s grip tightens the longer you stare at the other boy, gaze dancing over the shape of his body and mouth-watering as, for the first time, you see the appeal of jung wooyoung. never before have you understood why eyes follow him in the hallways, like he’s more than just another pretty boy on campus- something that’s in abundance. but you see it now, understand the appeal of his stand-out nose; and the veins that run down his arms; and floppy style to his hair, that seems to be calling out to have your fingers running through it.

with no prior warning, the grip on your hips tightens even more, till san is digging crescents into the soft skin and he’s lifting you, off of his lap and right into wooyoung’s.

the usually boisterous boy’s eyes meet yours, no longer filled with that spark of defiance and, instead, glazed over in tears, a quiet pleading being exchanged between you.

only, you’re unsure what he’s begging of you.

“are you going to just sit there,” seonghwa speaks up, boredom in his tone that has you picturing him rolling his eyes and picking at his manicured nails. “or are you going to help the poor pup cum?”

“what?!” that certainly helps you find your voice, and the guts to turn around and look at the man.

you find him stood closer than you imagined, with tailored trousers hugging his thighs and a perfectly ironed shirt tucked into them, the last few messy buttons the only indication he’d rushed to dress himself. eyes looking past him, you find more of a friendly aura in yunho, who, despite fighting a battle against the towel wrapped around his figure, manages to shoot a smile at you.

and then there’s san, who stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and a painfully obvious boner resting in the confines of his swimwear, though he’s done a better job at keeping himself concealed than the boy beneath you. his face appears indifferent, yet the twitch in his eye speaks of a tamed anger, a frustration he’s yet to unleash on the men who’d interrupted him amidst his feast.

“are you now deaf along with being dumb or something?” the eldest pulls your attention back to him with little effort, a smirk meeting the glare you shoot his way. “you made that brat hard, now do your job and fix the mess you’ve made.”

words of protest get lost in a surprised gasp as the boy in question takes your hand in his, veiny hand guiding you down to a veiny shaft. wooyoung wraps both of your fingers over his leaking cock, his holding yours in place around him while he ruts his hips up once, twice into your hold, the action sending his swimwear even further down the his length and exposing nearly the full sight of it to the swimming hall.

you don’t mean to compare, yet you’re incapable of ignoring the fact that while wooyoung may be on the slightly shorter side compared to san, he’s certainly leading in the thickness department, with a mushroomed head and the prettiest trail of trimmed hairs leading down his pelvis.

he guides you over his shaft a number of times, a little less shy now as he outwardly whines when your thumb runs over his tip, wiping away the fat bead of precum resting upon it. at some point, he moves his hand away, needing both of his free to lean back on the bench, yet yours keeps moving at it’s own volition, stroking him in a pattern of threes, interrupting every trio with a swipe over his tip or a fondle of his still-concealed balls.

“please,” the whine in his voice is so unlike the jung wooyoung you’ve watched week after week, hurling abuse and echoing boasts of his own talents while keeping himself afloat in the swimming pool.

“he asked nicely.” you’d just about forgotten about everyone else in the room, until seonghwa’s irritatingly unbothered voice serves to remind you of his presence. “rule number one: good behaviour is rewarded.”

“what do i,” you interrupt your own question to glance over wooyoung once more. “do?” you pinch your thigh, skin stinging as nails bite it, and confirm with yourself that this is not a dream but, in fact, very much real.

jung wooyoung is hard and begging you to do something.

“i don’t care how you do it, just put one of your holes to good use for once and make him cum.”

there’s still an echo of seonghwa’s voice by the time you successfully manage to rid wooyoung of his swimwear, the damp fabric clinging to the warm skin and the taut muscles of his thighs. the boy isn’t much help either, seemingly reduced to nothing but a writhing, panting mess instead of someone competent enough to raise himself off the bench just enough for you to undress him.

the sight is mesmerising, one you’re certain will remain ingrained in your memory till the day you die: wooyoung, disheveled and untouched, with his achingly hard cock pressed flat against his lower stomach, his swimmer-thighs spread with a set of balls between them that you find yourself near salivating over as a trickle of his own precum runs down them.

“your cock’s...” you begin to speak, yet trail off as your digits wrap themselves around his shaft, just to delight in the way his breath jumps when you drag your hand upwards and give a soft squeeze as you reach the head. “so pretty, woo.”

“youngie.” seonghwa cuts in from behind you. “he prefers to be called youngie when he’s getting his cock teased.”

“yeah, youngie?” you try it out.

instantly, he nods and something akin to a whimper flies out of him.

fascinated by his shaky breaths and his pretty chest, where warm, tanned skin appears to be near glowing under the swimming halls bright lights as his cheeks flush a palette full of reds and pinks, your eyes are completely fixed on him. there’s something vulnerable and breakable about the way he’s looking at your with the widest of eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip receiving countless abuse from his teeth.

never have you been so desperate to push someone past their own limits.

officially running on nothing but pure instincts, you close your mind off to thoughts, like how the boy you’d spent weeks avoiding and missing is stood only metres away, witnessing the way the tip of your finger teases over the slit of his sport rival’s cock. or like how park seonghwa, perhaps the campus’ most infamous trust-fund baby, seems to have complete control of the situation at hand, yourself and jung wooyoung nothing but idolised dolls he’s moving into whatever obscene position he wants you in.

instead, you focus on how wooyoung’s eyes roll back and he lets out a gasp when you gather up fluids from within your salivating mouth and part your own lips, watching how your own spit drips onto his lower stomach, and your hand, and his painfully hard cock.

the saliva serves not only as a visual pleasure, something that’s awakening inside of you at the sight of it leaving you with whole new kind of excitement bubbling along your body, but as a physical pleasure for wooyoung, who seems to have no protest to how much easier it is to slide your hand up his length with the added lubrication of your own spit.

“fuck...” he curses under his breath and his hands find purchase on your body, one gripping your hip while the other grabs at your forehand, like he’s scared you’ll release the grip you have on him and strip away the sweet release of friction. “don’t just focus on the tip- shit, ah- play with my balls too.”

“wooyoung!” ready to oblige, ready to give the pretty faced boy anything he demanded of you, you’ve no time to think of a reply before the ringmaster of this circus reminds you of his overlooking presence behind your back. “stop speaking like an ungrateful brat and take what you’re given. or else... well, i’m sure you don’t need reminding of what happens to pups that misbehave.”

the way jung wooyoung’s whole body grows rigid beneath you, paired with the countless times park seonghwa has butted in to speak on the boy’s sexual preferences, leaves you with the sense that the two are not only acquainted with how each other’s bodies move underwater..

“s-sorry,” this is not the voice of boastful jung wooyoung, who near bounces down the college halls and airdrops nudes in class because he’s bored. this is a voice that’s soft and meek. like a beady-eyed puppy, so quick to submit to it’s owner. “just feels too good. i’m sorry”

“yeah, you will be sorry.” seonghwa’s hand is cold against your back and it lulls a shiver out of you as fingers trickle down your spine like water off a duck’s wings. part of you hates him for stealing wooyoung’s attention off of you just as you were beginning to revel in it, a larger part of you wants to know why the sternness in his voice is enough to have your clit aching to be touched. “spitfire, be a good cocksleave and sit on his dick.”

“ok, stop!” a sense of shame comes over you when it takes hearing san’s outburst to remember the fact he’s watching the scene unfold. “don’t you think you’re taking this too far now, park seonghwa? i know you and wooyoung have your... agreement on how you treat each other, but don’t drag someone else into it. not when she never even asked for this.”

“you had your tongue tasting the eighth wonder of the world on that bench twenty minutes ago, both of you knowing there was a chance you’d be caught, and you want to tell me no one was asking for this?”

“that was private! you guys are the ones who-”

“there’s no such thing as privacy in a public area. besides, it’s hardly like she’s not enjoying this. if anything, i think spitfire doesn’t like the way you’re getting in the way of her teaching youngie a lesson in obedience.” you’re naive to think no one would notice the way you’ve began to grind down on wooyoung’s cock, stealing whimpers out of him as the soaked lips of your pussy rubbed up against him and holding back your own moans each time his tip meets the bundle of nerves that make up your clit. “choi, if you’re that much of a pissy pants that can’t enjoy himself even just this once in life, then feel free to leave. i’m sure the four of us will be too occupied to notice your absence.”

you’re not paying close enough attention to figure out if san’s newfound silence is due to his departure, or if he’s simply too stunned to speak, your eyes focused on nothing and no one but the boy at your mercy.

the initial burn of wooyoung breaching your entry reminds you of how long it’s been since you’d been stretched open by something other than someone’s cold fingers or wagging tongue. it’s been more or less three long months of juggling test after test, assignments piling up on your desktop and a relationship with your now ex-boyfriend being tossed completely into the gutter.

not once had you thought your return to the world of sexual bliss would be in front of an audience, much less at the very place you work.

doubting that it’s been as long for him as it has for you, wooyoung still spares nothing when it comes to reacting to your touch. with eyes squeezing shut, head rolling back, abdomen muscles flexing along side every shaken intake of breath, the boy puts on a show so pornographic it puts the professionals to shame. a whine exits his lips, lips that carry marks of his own teeth and look like they’re in need of a healthy dose of chapstick, and look so disgustingly kissable that your own tingle at the thought.

all those rumours of jung wooyoung being a camboy rush to the forefront of your mind, feeling truer than ever when your eyes take in the bob of his adam’s apple, and the perfectly timed run of his tongue over his lower lip, and the pretty way in which the prominent veins in his hands looks as he clamps his grip down on your hips.

he’s a sight worth paying for.

“are you okay?” not the first thing you’d imagined saying after sinking all the way down on his cock, the need to check up on him taking over before you’d even noticed it’s existence.

“yeah...” he sighs his way through the word, eyes still closed and grip still very much tight on your skin, blunt fingertips likely leaving crescent moons you’ll find yourself staring at for days to come, memories of this moment replaying in a rose-tinted haze. “just need a second, you- you feel good, fuck me.”

“i’m kinda already doing that, youngie.” you giggle, like a lovesick adolescent speaking to their crush of the week, but the boy’s instant smile upon hearing it puts out the fire of shame building in the pit of your stomach.

“hmm,” he hums back, acknowledging your words without giving you the satisfaction of hearing him tell you how you’re correct. “are you okay?”

wooyoung flips the question on you and it parallels with the way he pulls the rains in physically, lithe hips thrusting upwards in search of feeling more, reaching deeper inside of you. in the back of your mind you already picture a look of displeasure on park seonghwa’s face, scowling lips loading up to berate you and demand you take repossession of jung wooyoung’s sanity.

“yeah, i’m-” with the eldest man in mind, you stop and compose yourself, as well as you can while wooyoung’s mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, the tops of your breasts. “i’m wondering who told you you were allowed to touch me?”

control is easily regained, all it takes is your hand squeezing around jung wooyoung’s throat and your soaked walls clenching around his aching cock and he’s melting like ice cream on a warm summer’s day, leaving behind a sticky mess.

satisfaction and pleasure come crashing in tandem, wave after wave moving in motion with each lethargic roll of your body against the swimmer’s, who seems to be a quicker learner than you’d believed him to be, hands flying off your body like it was made up of hot stones and, instead, now holding a firm and grounding grip of the bench beneath you both.

“harder.” you feel a hint of emotion within park seonghwa’s voice this time he speaks. it’s fleeting, and hard to make out quite what feeling it is he’s experiencing, but it’s there and it’s certainly a step up from the usual shameless, egotistical, megalomaniac tone he takes on. “squeeze his throat tighter.”

under the possession of his commanding tone, you find yourself caving into his command, fingers pressing a little harder into wooyoung’s warm skin. the boy gulps down whatever pride he has and delivers a pleasured whine. you grind down harder and an evil, twisted part of you you’ve never met before longs to laugh at the way he so desperately is struggling to keep his composure, fighting back the urge to meet your hips with his own upward thrusts.

so, you do.

“hear that, youngie?” seonghwa’s voice becomes less grating each time you hear it, once an unwelcome and intrusive thought but now a second voice and a valued player in a game of wreck the wooyoung. “you’re being laughed at. isn’t that just pathetic?”

“y-yes, fuck-” he falls victim to your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock in a vice grip. the image of confidence withers away so easily to reveal a teary-eyed, pretty-faced, cum-desperate man. “i’m pathetic.”

“yeah, you are.” seonghwa circles his way around the rocking bench, no longer out of view hidden behind your back but, instead, staring you down with piercing eyes that cut through you like a knife to hot butter. “he’s getting close. never lasts long, really, even seen him cum untouched just from giving me head. but that’s okay, isn’t it youngie? you’re a slut for having your sack drained, huh?”

the swimmer beneath you has never looked redder than he does right now, secrets of his sexual nature getting exposed to the people he likely considers his biggest athletic competition. though you probably should, you don’t push him away when his face finds safety in the crook of your neck, parted lips covering your burning skin in sticky drool.

“don’t let him fool you guys, he’s into the degrading nature of it all. trust me.” you wonder if it should concern you the way seonghwa speaks about jung wooyoung as though he’s nothing but a pet, a possession of which he just so happens to have complete control over. you’re more concerned with the fact it excites you. “call him a good boy, i dare you.”

the words haven’t even formed in your throat and the boy between your thighs is gripping onto your waist a little tighter, lips near pouting and eyes screwed shut in uncontrollable pleasure, burning down his spine and threatening to push him over the edge of sexual bliss.

you consider having mercy, the inexperienced side of you thinking the boy looks like he’s full of shame and embarrassment. the throbbing of his rock hard cock repeatedly stuffing your aching cunt reminds you he’s getting off on the humiliation.

“is he a good boy, though?” you stare up at park seonghwa, not even sparing a whimpering wooyoung any attention as he begins a rambled protest to defend his good behaviour. “i mean, i don’t remember telling him he could touch me. do you, hwa?”

the hands that grip you tightly let go quick, like your skin were an unexpectedly warm stove, scorching his skin right off him.

“i don’t remember either,” the eldest’s agreement has you reeling in a way you never expected, filling you with a new found sense of control.

a control that is ripped away far too quickly, like park seonghwa sensed you growing falsely confident over the situation at hand.

like a shark circling it’s prey, the tall man makes his way back around the bench, each fall of his shoe-covered feet echoing in the quiet swim hall. click, click, click, and he’s right at your back, not a word uttered as the soft of his palm lands on the nape of your neck. achingly slow does it travel down the expanse of your back, not a single noise filling the space other than the rise and fall of your body on top of wooyoung’s and the same boy’s poorly contained moans and mewls of pleasure.

the silence is interrupted by your own shocked gasp, mouth falling agape in shock as your movements come to a complete halt. his hands, no longer soft and delicate, grip you in an iron-tight hold, fingers greedy as they dig into your meaty flesh with no mercy or regard for the pain it may inflict on you.

“no, get up,” like a switch was flipped in as little as a minute, park seonghwa’s voice has lost all sense of the excitement it had whilst he spoke on jung wooyoung’s dirty endeavours and has returned back to the cold, callous, commanding tone it had originally.

he sounds angry, feels angry in the way the fingers of his free hand tangle themselves in the hair at the back of your head and give a harsh tug, forcing your head back till you’re met with his scowling face and perfectly groomed hair, even in it’s dampened state it seems to frame his face perfectly.

“what?” you babble out, dumbstruck, much like the desperate boy beneath you who’s began to mutter apology after apology between pleadings of please no don’t do this and i promise i’ll behave, i’ll keep my hands to myself.

none of it works.

“you heard me. get. up.” the fingers on your waist tug, pull, drag you away from the quivering mess that has become of jung wooyoung, who near sobs as the cool air hits his now painfully hard cock, tip redder than the bottom of your favourite heels and a vein more prominent under his sensitive skin than the ones on his muscular arms. you’re not given much of a chance to process what’s happening before seonghwa speaks again. “wooyoung, up, now. you’re not getting to cum, so get off the bench and make room for someone else.”

the boy makes no further attempt to protest, cheeks painted pink in shame and chest shining with sweat as he shakily rises to his feet, head hung low when you watch him walk out of your line of sight.

then, your knees meet the floor.

park seonghwa chuckles as you go down, hands finding grip in your hair and forcing you to sit up right. heart beating faster, your mind begins to race with questions of what comes next, who comes next.

what dirty desires are about to be unveiled within you, forced into the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the swimming hall?

“jeong, you’re up,” seonghwa’s knee digs into your back and his fingers tug until your scalp begins to sting a little. you don’t want to like it but, in life, you don’t always get what you want.

there’s a series of shuffles behind you, followed by heavy footsteps. there’s no rush, yet no hesitation, just calm and collected footsteps of someone making their way over to do god knows what with you.

when jeong yunho, with his towel that’s looking a lot tighter around his crotch still around his waist, steps into frame, an inexplicable sense of comfort washes over you.

maybe it’s the way he smiles down at you, or the fact his hands brush seonghwa’s off of you, or the way his fingers take a hold of your chin once he’s seated in front of you.

maybe it’s just the fact he’s jeong yunho, campus himbo with a reputation for walking girls home at night just to make sure they’re safe and for singing britney spears with no shame each time the karaoke mic gets passed around.

whatever it is, it’s turning you on.

your knees are burning with fresh pain as park seonghwa shoves you closer to the mammoth of a man and you can’t help but swallow down the ball of anxiety growing in your throat.

everything about jeong yunho’s demeanour has always seemed large, with powerful arms that drag his body through the weight of water and large hands that effortlessly carry countless textbooks through the university halls; a tall frame that helps him stand out in any crowd and a personality loud enough to set off alarms; his thighs a muscular stairway leading up to a well rounded, remarkably defined posterior. it’s safe to say he’s carried a reputation for some time, one that consists of whispers between girls on campus who recount just how well endowed he really is. 7 inches, 9 inches, 12 inches, you’ve heard it all, each girl claiming it to be bigger than the last.

unfortunately, there’s no ruler at your disposal to uncover the truth of the rumours, but you confirm he’s certainly large as you watch him undo the towel. larger than you’ve ever seen before, with a thickness to match, and two heavy looking balls decorating the base.

he wraps a hand around it and you watch how he gives a light squeeze at the head, slowly sliding down the length of it till he reaches the tuft of groomed hairs on his pelvic bone. one of his hands alone holds half of his cock, leaving you almost certain you’d need to use both hands on him.

“d’you want it, sweetheart?” his words are teasing but his voice is soft, a complete one-eighty to the verbal berating you’ve been receiving- and enjoying- from park seonghwa.

you’re sure he notices the way you clench your thighs as he slaps his cock once, then twice against his stomach, the precum leaking out on to his tanned skinned.

there’s an itch inside your throat, one you imagine only he can scratch.

“you wanna taste it?” he’s still speaking to you through the arousal that fogs over your brain, commanding your tongue to swipe over your bottom lip as you burn your gaze at the glistening liquid on his warm skin, tastebuds aching to have him paint them in white.

you nod your head.

his own throws itself back, a chuckle rupturing out of his chest as he continues to tease himself with his hand.

“fuck, yeah, bet you can’t wait to taste my cock, feel it stab the back of your tight throat.” a smile should never look so sweet while it’s part of the same mouth spewing out such filth. somehow, jeong yunho makes it work. “gonna get it nice and wet for me, yeah? make it sloppy, i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock.”

the knee that’s suddenly digging it’s way into your back has no mercy. you wince, pull in a sharp breath and inch just that little bit closer to the bench. like a glove fits a hand, you slip right in between the muscled tree trunks that make up jeong yunho’s thighs.

you wonder, if only momentarily, what sweet a death it would be to be crushed between them, taut muscles constricting the flow of air to your lungs like a boa with its prey.

but there’s a far more preferable way to be choked by the man before you, body carved out in such definition you fear michael angelo himself stands in admiration of it.

his hand snakes its way around your body, warm and heavy and imposing with the grip it settles for at the base of your neck. in spite of the sharp stab coming from behind- where you have no doubt one park seonghwa stands with disgruntled impatience written all over his irritatingly perfect face- there is no doubt in your mind that the man in front of you holds the reigns. with eyes of honey and lips of velvet, he peers down at you with a tendered expression, saying nothing yet everything with the gentle, repeated sooth of his thumb over your skin.

you need no verbal instructions this time around.

a hand grips the base of him as the other squeezes the flesh of your own thigh, piercing your skin with just enough pressure to assure you this is the reality you find yourself in, rather than some twisted, substance influenced dream.

the first taste is the sweetest, tongue a missionary sent into the foreign land of his body to discover the way he reacts as you drag it over the tip. he gives nothing but a squeeze to the back of your neck; and that crumbles you under his control.

with a few more kitten licks- for good luck, if anything,- the show begins with the parting of your lips, the widening of your mouth, the burning of your skin as you struggle with your ability to swallow him whole. you make it no further than a third of his length before he’s tugging gently on your roots and bringing you back to the surface of existence.

“breathe, okay,” his voice is gentle, calming your nerves yet sending your heart into a fit of patternless beats. “inhale, exhale, got it? through the nose, that’s gonna help you relax.”

doing as he says, you swallow three whole breaths. shaky, ragged, each feeling hollow in your chest in comparison to the weight of his cock on your tongue.

“pretty girl,” he practically coos, hand cupping your chin as his thumb smoothes over the swell of your bottom lip. it’s tender, sweet, and almost enough to make you forget the sight of his engorged cock that sits angrily between his tree-trunk shaped thighs, crying out for the return of your mouth’s affection. “someone’s gotta teach you to not be greedy, hmm? small little mouth of yours is no fit for me, don’t go choking on it.”

heat flashes between your thighs, your heartbeat dropping right down to your clit and leaving you with a burning ache, the kind only a gentleman like this could soothe. your fingers may have to do, however, if the stubborn arsehole behind you would be so kind as to let you enjoy yourself.

the way park seonghwa curls his hand round the front of your neck and flexes his nimble fingers- that goddamn family heirloom ring a punishing cold to your warm skin, near brandishing you as touched by some nepotism child- when you do so little as clench your thighs together to relieve the pressure, or lack-there-of, between your thighs tells you he’ll grant you no such fun.

“you’d need to have something big enough for her to choke on,” san, precious san. still here, still somewhere beneath this god-forsaken tin-can roof swimming pool, watching you bruise your knees and your ego for another man, another one of his team-mates. what must he think of you? has he lost whatever respect he may have had? does he think he’d been just another body to exchange fluids with, that night at the party? if you could just see his face, you’d not need to wonder all these things. his eyes, they always give him away, too earnest and pure for his own good.

“shut it, choi,” yunho’s bark isn’t half as loud as seonghwa’s booming commands have been, and are nowhere near as malignant. if anything, the gentle giant is humoured by his team-mate’s words, as if he knows they’re a preposterous thing to say about him. then again, you can’t imagine any man remaining humble about themselves if they were so well-endowed. “or do you wanna crack out the measuring tape again and remind yourself of just how much of me there is to choke on?”

silence.

it takes a few moments for the spotlight to return to you, a gradual shift from playful to lust driven energy encapsulating the broad frame of the man before. he cups your cheek, feather-light touch smoothing over your skin while his eyes burrow daggers into your soul.

why must his shoulders be so wide? it almost angers you as much as it sends a wave of heat between your legs.

almost, but not quite.

“‘s cute,” he half mumbles, distracted by the sight you paint below him on your knees, bruises already forming and thighs clenching for some relief of pressure. “your little pussy’s all wet just from having my cock in your mouth.”

“i think you’re forgetting she was bouncing on woo’s dick a few minutes ago, yunho,” the devil on your shoulder won’t let you rest, hand snaking through the threads of your hair and tugging on your roots. not enough to hurt, just enough to sting. “have some modesty.”

“sure, let’s act like i’m not the one who had her cumming all over my face a while ago.” san mumbles a string of words you wish you could unhear, face heating up as the shame burns through your bloodstream.

how had you gotten here?

you’re allowed no such freedom to ponder over previous actions as jeong yunho’s all encompassing frame works to remind you of where you find yourself: on your knees dressed in nothing but your own shame- shame which seems to slip off of you, piece by piece, baring you shamelessly to this pack of wolf-eyed boys’ for their eyes to feast upon.

strong, veiny hands reach out and drag you forwards, just an inch yet it’s all you need to feel the weight of park seonghwa’s domineering figure float off of you, rendering you under the control of this much larger, far smilier looking man. “eyes on me, okay? don’t wanna miss the way i’m about to make them roll back.”

there begins a game of push and pull, where jeong yunho pushes you closer and closer to his evident arousal, all the while teasing you as he pulls his hips back, keeping your waiting mouth open and empty, and oh-so frustrated at the feeling of being so close yet so far away from his dripping tip.

the first real taste you get of him does, in fact, nearly have your eyes rolling back. a kitten lick, barely there yet fully felt, running over the underside of his cock, a taste of salted skin, and musky sweat, and stale chlorine mixing in with the warmth of him flooding your senses. his reaction is no more composed than yours, blatantly parting his lips in a gasp and bucking his hips up, forwards, any direction they need follow to chase after your mouth.

happy to comply, you take pride in tasting him a second time, this time right over the growing drop of pre-cum pebbling on his tip. white flashes behind your closing eyes as his grip in your hair tightens, a pulse of heat firing straight down your spine as your mind floods with images of what it must be like to watch this man, this gentleman, this figure that so wholly encompasses what it means to be a himbo in this day and age lose his cool and revolt into his most carnal, basal instincts to take whatever pleasure he needs from you with a reckless abandon, burrow his throbbing cock down your throat till the beat of his heart takes over your own.

instead, you settle for wrapping your lips around him, at last, and letting him guide you just that little bit down his length. the weight of him feels nice, a strange sense of comfort birthing in your bones as you grow used to feel of him taking up your palate. his breaths seem to run in tandem with the inches he sinks deep between your parted lips.

a deep breath, he lowers you further, till your left cheek begins to bulge out.

tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth, you make use of it as best you can, rolling it over the bottom of his shaft and earning yourself a plethora of gratifying sounds, each deep and desperate and crooning straight out of jeong yunho’s broad chest.

another deep breath, another inch.

for all the false dominance you wield over the situation, with the heat of your mouth and spill of your own saliva slickening his cock, his real and visceral dominance doubles it by tenfold, with a hand on the back of your neck, guiding your every move, and a knowing, gentle look cast downwards at you from where he sits propped on the bench, thighs a heavy mass to case your body between. a silly little voice in your head whispers a seductive tale of how easily this man could get you in a headlock and suffocate your fragile windpipes. a wave of heat, this one going right down to your core and forcing you to pay attention to it, shifting awkwardly and clenching the muscles in your own legs in hopes of getting some pitiful amount of pressure.

all breathing stops as he hits the back of your throat.

hands pulling tight, a biting pain ripping through your hair and a tired gag creeping out of your constricting throat, yunho holds you still and strong, as unmoving as the mountains that fill the horizon from your bedroom window.

he’s not even fully in, an arguably obscene amount of him still awaiting some form of attention beyond the spill of the spit filling up your mouth. but there’s nowhere for it to go, not within your mouth at least, and so you manoeuvre your hand up and grip the neglected inches, the tip of your pinkie teasingly brushing over the swell of his balls.

he lurches forward, gasping in a breath of air at last. “fucking christ- shit,” he grits his teeth. “her mouth’s warm.”

“well, obviously. this your first time getting a blowjob or something, jeong?” god, the reminder of seonghwa being here, somewhere behind you, fox eyes judging your every move and keeping his cool, no matter how hard you’d seen his cock straining in those ridiculous pant-suit trousers he sports. it’s sickening.

“yeah, yunho, watch out before you have a repeat of 2019.”

if the taller jeong wants to snap at the other, you never find out, instead dedicating yourself to the glory of worshipping him between your parted lips and tight throat, jaw ready to lock itself in place so long as it keeps him inside.

you treat him differently than you’d treated san that night. you’d been tipsy then, buzzing off the colourful shots of who-knows-what you’d been conned into downing a half hours before, mind hazy as you kneeled between him and teased your tongue over every crevice of him it could reach, dripping him in drool and working an ache into your overused tongue by the time you got watched him spill over the edge of ecstasy. that wasn’t even about san’s pleasure, no real care put into getting him off, your own selfish need to indulge in the pleasure of feeling, tasting, worshipping him taking precedence.

but, right now, you’re overwhelmingly sober, mind hazed only by a cloud of inexplicable lust that rolled in the moment san shot you his stupid smile, and you care about making jeong yunho cum. in fact, it’s the only thing on your mind as you bob your head up and down, letting his own hand guide your pace.

“shh, shh,” he’s hushing your own struggles for breath and carding his fingers through the tresses of your hair, his legs clamping down on either side of you, pinning you in your rightful place. “taking it so good, baby. so fucking good.”

good’s not good enough.

you want to leave him mind-blown, exhausted, unhinged. you want him clenching his jaw, and baring his teeth, and stuttering over any praise he tries to give you. in fact, you need it, need that thrill-driven lust of collapsing the sanity of a man as broad and strong and capable as him.

so you pick up the pace, fight against the steady up-and-down of his grip and try to take just that little bit more of him in your mouth and down your throat, till you’ve no doubt there’s a visible bulge of where he sits down your windpipe. you think back on what he said- i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock- and work towards doing just that, mouth a fountain of over-flowing spit that paints lines down your chin and over his heavy balls. the hand at his base lightly drags the tips of its nails over his burning skin and you physically feel the way his cock jumps in your mouth, head twitching as his hips involuntarily jolt forwards.

eyes as wide as a deer in headlights, you glance up to stare into his own, only to find they’re rolling back in his head, too caught up in the headiness of having your mouth on him to visually focus. it’s erotic, tracing your eyes over the protruding vein in his neck and the unrhythmic heaving of his chest- like every breath he pulls is a rare gift and a miracle- and the straining of his muscled thighs that hold back his urge to buck freely into your mouth, use you as nothing but a hole to get himself off with.

your free hand stakes claim over your own sexual frustration, nimble fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your clit in an attempt to just ease that heat burning you from the inside out.

“she’s touching herself, jeong,” not even the irritating, grating voice of park seonghwa’s unwanted commentary can take away the kick you’re getting out of working this man into a frenzy. “are you just going to let her, without your permiss-”

“shut up, park,” yunho is wrecked, voice divulging so far from that loud, boyish charm into a dark, broken sort of gruffed out thing, echoing straight out of his chest. but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen to the other man, doesn’t force his eyes open to glance down in a hazed daze to witness your pathetic attempts to work your fingers over yourself.

only, he doesn’t tell you to stop.

he just... watches. and then smiles, squeezes out what can only be described as a broken whine, and tilts his head back once more, relinquishing all control of his body over to you. the scene divulging into a chorus of mumbled words, fuck and please and yes becoming the only word yunho knows, the only three you hear.

only as he cums does jeong yunho regain that bit of self-control he’s lost, ripping your mouth off him- a stuttered mumble of i wanna paint that pretty face- and erupting in a mess of grunted moans, cock twitching in his palm as rope after rope of white, hot fluid shoots out of it. it’s messy, and disgusting, and sticky, marking the skin on your cheeks, nestling in your hair, dripping over your shut eyelashes.

the last drops land in your parted mouth as his grasp shakes and you regain the right to wrap your lips around his mushroomed tip.

lips stained in pearly white, cheeks and neck matching too. the throb of your neglected cunt, clenching itself around nothing but the mere thought of having jeong yunho stuff you full, break you in two and leave you spent.

the man in question is in a no better state, head thrown back and chest a heaving mess glistening with the shine of his own sweat. his mouth hangs open, near heaving in breaths of air and his hands, adopting a mind of their own, grip harder in your hair and hold you firmly in place, tongue laving over his sensitive tip, pushing him closer and closer to the ledge of overstimulation.

“fuck- uh, fucking look at you,” sweet voice, foul words. two fingers drag over your cheek, coating themselves in the sticky substance he’s painted you in. “drooling all over me.”

he’s right, you are drooling. down your chin, an uncomfortable damp coat covers your overheating skin as you continue to stretch your lips around his length, ready to rip another thigh-shuddering orgasm out of the man.

yunho grants you no such pleasure.

instead, a grip tugs back on your hair and, before you can feebly attempt to catch your fleeing breath, he’s pulling you up into his lap, straddling you across the well-defined muscles of his thigh. those big, capable hands he pushes himself through pools, and rivers, and all other bodies of water manipulate your limbs however he likes, a rag-doll free for him to toy with for as long as he sees fit.

“yun-” you don’t even manage to say his name properly, not when he grinds you down into his lap, smothering his tanned skin in your juices. the friction runs straight for your pulsing clit and you’re rendered to sinking into his welcoming arms, head collapsing into the crook of his neck, parted lips panting up a storm against his sweated skin.

“that nice for you, angel?” the soft words, the rough hands, the perfect roll of your hips. you feel like you could sob, break apart completely. yunho tracing a hand up the curve of your spine and soothing his long fingers over a knot in you back doesn’t help your case. “bet it is. little bit of release to all that tension you’ve been feeling, yeah?”

you think you nod.

it’s hard to tell.

sparks fly within your loins, heating you from the inside out. yunho, at some point, has wound his fist into the tresses of your hair, nails scrapping along your scalp. it’s pleasurable, all over, soothing you into a state of utter relaxation, a being with no purpose other than to take whatever this mass of warmth and muscles and width offers you.

his hand makes a fist and gently tugs, forcing a whine out of you as you’re faced with the bright lights once more. traces of his own cum stain the very place your face had lay. it’s erotic to see, drying up your tongue with a need to lick it clean.

“no, no, focus, right here,” a single finger taps at your cheek, followed by the tilting of your chin that forces you to stare back at the hungry eyes of jeong yunho. “eyes on me. want a front row seat to watching your eyes roll back.”

god, he’s filthy, and delicate, and that just makes him all that more filthy.

swiping his digits through the remnants of his sticky cum, he makes sure you’re staring right back at him as those same fingers snake their way down between your grinding bodies and burrow themselves deep in your soaked heat. shallow pumps of his hand fuck his cum-coated fingers deeper, long and lithe enough he barely needs to move to have you feeling him all over, everywhere.

by the time he curls them, pressing against that spongy wall, you’re just about ready to cry.

“think she’s gonna cum,” oh god, no, why must he remind you of your audience? why does it no longer frighten you to have eyes watching you be defiled but, rather, have you clenching around him tighter, chasing that fever-like ecstasy the man means to deliver? “she’s gripping my fingers so tight- shit, almost makes me wanna bust my load just thinking how warm her pussy would feel round my cock.”

“don’t let her cum,” you vow, some day, to wring the neck of park seonghwa. “just cause she’s gone all cockdrunk doesn’t mean she’s earnt-”

“shut up, hwa,” the boy’s thumb pokes up and you can’t help the way you grind down into it, smothering your clit in whatever pressure you can get. “pretty baby’s more than earned it. stop being bitter that i’m the one who’s gonna give her it.”

give you it, he does.

three fingers deep, the cocktail of your wetness mixing with his cum-cated digits aiding the ebb and flow of his rhythm, jeong yunho has your toes curling, eyes rolling, thighs shaking. you blackout, for only a moment, lost in the wilderness of pleasure.

the aftershocks are barely kicking in when you’re suddenly ripped away from yunho’s hold. the sounds of your beating heart and heaving chest muffle the disgruntled exchange of words between the swim-team, inhibiting your ability to stay clued-in on the events that surround you. all you know is that when your body meets the bench once more, on all wobbly fours, jeong yunho no longer sits tall and proud.

a sharp sting hits your rear- a smack, that echoes in the empty space of the swimming hall. the only appropriate response is the shriek you let out, twisted in your own conflicting emotions of pain, and pleasure, and painful pleasure. a second smack meets the other cheek. this time, there’s no doubt a wanton whine escapes you.

“since the rest of them can’t take orders,” you’d already known it was seonghwa whose hands were suddenly all over you, pinning you in a position of submission. the sound of his grandiose voice sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine, top to tail. “i’ll have to do it myself.”

with no word of warning, he smooths his hands down the globes of your ass, teases the crease of skin where your inner thigh meets your dripping heat, and fucks two whole fingers into your sensitive core. knuckles deep, they sit still upon initial intrusion, basking in the warmth of you and coating themselves in the essence from an orgasm you’ve yet to even fully recover from and the cum yunho’d scooped off your own face.

then, at last, when your nails dig marks into the wood below, he curls them a come-hither motion.

with shame painted on your skin, you toss your head back and release an inhumane cry, eyes hazily gazing up at the horrendous white lights above. “oh god!”

“not quite. i do appreciate the flattery though,” there’s no need to glance over your shoulder to know that pompous, trust-fund baby is wearing the most earth-shattering smirk, some stupid strand of his perfectly groomed hair dangling over one of his eyes, like some 90s heartthrob boy-band member. you do it anyway.

park seonghwa is an unfairly attractive man, sporting a beauty so ethereal it almost makes you angry.

that anger seems to dampen the wetter he gets you.

his touch is slow, but by no means is it gentle. calculated and malevolent, he plays with your insides like they’re nothing but the strings to your puppet. a curl of his fingers and one of your hands shoots forward. the torturously slow pace that he pumps his digits in and out, and your jaw falls slack. his thumb bumps and grinds against your throbbing clit, and your elbows give out, sending you crashing face-first down onto the bench.

his free hand presses down on your lower back, bending you deeper, hiking your ass up higher in the air. and, at first, you think you’re imagining it, that trickle of warmth against your other entrance, believing it nothing but a trick of your melting brain.

you’re who-knows how many hours deep in a whirlwind of pleasure and penetrative stares, people have been driven to the brink of insanity over far less in the past.

but then seonghwa’s fingers leave your cunt, warm and wet trails following their journey over your skin. there’s no imaginative mind great enough in this universe to conjure up that initial shock to feeling how he prods and pokes at your puckered hole, lubricating it with the dirty mixture of both you and yunho’s cum and his very own spit.

the tip of his pointer finger ventures onward first, breaking through the surface of your tight muscles in a shallow intrusion.

the feeling has you frozen, frightened, intrigued. eyes widening, moans dying, pussy pulsating in an empty need.

“don’t go getting shy on us now, spitfire,” the collective language he uses brings back the weight of all the boys’ eyes on you. hesitantly, you angle your face off the bench, and regret it the instant you meet the brown comfort of his eyes. “fun’s just starting. ain’t that right, san?”

a tense energy takes over the large room, with san’s shoulders tensing, and yunho’s feet fidgeting, and wooyoung’s cheeks blushing. seonghwa seems impervious to the shift, whether voluntarily or not, and instead invites himself to further exploring the limits of your body.

he’s kind enough to spare a bit of care into the way his finger sinks deeper into your unexplored hole. another dribble of his hot saliva lands messily onto you, aiding the slip and slide of his hand. two, or three, or four strokes of his finger and you’re submitting to the intrusion, hips rutting higher and presenting yourself more to the man.

“come here,” the command calls over your body and, at first, you think its aimed at you. so you try scooting further back, only to be halted by seonghwa speaking once again. “yeah you, choi. come get under her.”

for the first time since this all began, you’re on the precipice of saying no.

they’d listen, all of them. wouldn’t push you, pressure you or force you to keep going, not if you truly voiced your negation. even park seonghwa, as big an arsehole as he may be, would have no qualms ending his fun and agreeing to never speak of this again.

and it’s not that you don’t want choi san under you. far from it, as you’ve already made pretty clear earlier, thighs his personal ear-warmers while his tongue delved deep for your honey-suckle glory. you’re hardly uncomfortable at the thought of him under you, chest rising repeatedly in frantic breaths and legs bent at the knee to give him just the right leverage to fuck up into your messy cunt-

it’s not till he’s three feet away from you, hands fidgeting by his side, eyes looking anywhere but you and your compromising position, and the world’s most obnoxiously boner-strained tent in his swimming gear that realisation washes over you. you’re hesitating because of him, because of his possible discomfort.

what if he wants to say no? what if he doesn’t want to get under you? what if his eyes will never look into your own again, too shocked and disgusted by all the things you’ve let be done to you? by his own team-mates/rivals, too?

hell, you’ve shocked yourself even, never in a million years had you pictured a day you’d be at the mercy of some rich prick, overdressed for every occasion and looking like a vogue-cover-model reject. but when he’s edging another finger into the already-tight squeeze of your ass, and pushing your buttons just enough to nudge you towards an edge that never seems to arrive, how could you ever dream of being anywhere else?

a hand touches your cheek.

soft. tender. it takes the extra time to soothe the pads of its fingers against your burning cheek.

“you feeling okay?” san’s quiet tone, meant only for you, is enough to move you to near-tears. you crave his hug. the position you find yourself in only allows you to reach out and grasp at where his knee bends as he crouches down to your level. it’s all the same, san knows. san understands. his own hand lands on top of yours, messily threading digits.

“she’s literally stuffed with another man’s cum and you’re worried about her? well aren’t you just the sweetest.” a cheap remark from seonghwa.

san purposefully ignores it, and everything about the man, instead choosing to keep his focus on what matters.

you.

“think you could make some room for me down there?” your nose wrinkles at his choice of words.

his giggle echoes.

“no, no, not... like that,” he guides you as he talks, grip moving to your shoulders and coaxing you up into a seating position. somewhere along the way, seonghwa’s hands leave you. he doesn’t stray too far, however, and your back soon collides against his chest. “here, pretty. want you to make space for me down here.”

within seconds, choi san’s back in his rightful place: splayed out beneath you, body fit snug between your parted legs and hair an unruly, sweated mess against his forehead.

no clothing sits between you both, blessing you with the mouthwatering drag of his cock through your folds. hard, and red, and leaking at the tip, a slight curve to the right, dribbling precum against his well-toned stomach. you’re biting your lip before you fully register your own thoughts, body a mind of its own as you grind down onto him.

control is limited and fleeting, that of which seonghwa reminds you without uttering so much as a word. instead, he clamps a harsh grip down on either side of your hips, rucks you up to where he needs you and guides you down onto san’s cock.

it’s thick, imposing and something that seonghwa blesses you no time to ease into things. instead, you’re slammed down, san buried to the hilt inside of you.

“hey there,” delicate fingers skim up the tense muscles in your thigh and find pleasure in delivering a teasing tickle to your sides. “come here often?”

the cheeky grin, the double entendre, the way san looks so goddamn proud of himself for saying it. you can’t help it, you wind up giggling uncontrollably.

wrong choice. bad idea. danger zone.

san contorts in pain, and lust, and something else you’ve never seen behind his eyes before, hissing through his teeth like some feral cat. his eyes match that of a feline too. “you trying to squeeze my dick off or something?”

you compose yourself upon the reminder of that san can feel you tensing around him, pull in a deep breath and find your voice again, at last. “or... something.”

maybe you’re a little out of breath. maybe you’re a little hoarse. it doesn’t seem to matter to the boy below, his only response being to cant his hips up and lick at the fire burning in your insides.

“you two are disgusting,” once again, park seonghwa wins gold in the nobody-asked-for-you-bum-ass-opinion olympics. let’s see if he’ll continue his winning streak and go for gold in the hypocrite-athon too!

the hands on your sides begin you guide you, with seonghwa squeezing his perfectly manicured nails into your plush skin and bouncing you down onto san. up, down, up and down, repeated strokes like the ones their hands deliver each time they breach the surface.

it’s easy, this pleasure. it’s a gift, hand-delivered by two god-like men that sandwich you between them- one a mass that fills you, the other a weight that controls you. liberating in every sense, you can’t help the way your head rolls back to find purchase on one of seonghwa’s shoulders, completely melting into the ways he winds you over san.

“shit, yes, you feel,” san’s no better than you, mouth agape and hands unsteady as they trace every inch of skin they can reach: the dimples of your back, the swell of your breasts, the hood of your clit. his hips are the only steady thing about him, not a falter in the way they grind up to kiss your dripping pussy with his cock. “so good. so warm, tight. love it.”

a hand curls round your front, travels up between your breast and over your sternum. it settled for a grip a round your throat, no pressure applied, it simply exists against your windpipe, a silent threat.

“look what you do to him, hmm,” a squeeze around your neck. seonghwa’s warm breath fans against your ear, taunting you. “look what you’re doing to them.”

through your glossed-over gaze, you trail your way past the sight of san and all his captivating beauty, settling instead on the equally erotic, not-at-all surprising image that stands just past where his head rests at the edge of the wooden bench.

a sweaty wooyoung, bent at the waist and whining up a storm, while a far more composed yunho pounds his hips into the boy’s arse.

your walls clench and san whimpers, a string of curses and pleads leaving him.

“think you’re finally ready for me?” the devil on your shoulder- at your back, more truly,- smirks into your skin, careless enough to not even feign it being anything but a rhetoric question. ready or not, park seonghwa is going to finally get his own fill of the thrill, his own satisfaction, beyond mere observation and controlling.

the spill of your own wetness slips down your thighs as san continues to fuck himself deep. it doesn’t travel far as seonghwa coats himself in you, wetting his fingers before they slip back inside your ass. a few generous, tempting pumps into your ring of muscles, fingers spreading a little further apart each time, till he decides that’s enough, he’s ready, you’re ready.

the unbuckling of a belt.

an unzipping of trousers.

trousers bunched down muscled thighs.

the first cut may be the deepest, but you highly doubt it’s as deep as seonghwa feels feeding his cock into your arse, stretching you apart to make way for him. a part of you feels like it can’t breathe, impaled on both these men who sit so deep inside you, you fear you’ll feel the ghost of their touch for weeks to come.

but what does it matter, really, when seonghwa pulls you back against him and whispers filth against your ear?

this is all you’re good for. cock-drunk whore. gonna let us cum inside?

and san’s coaxing you down to trail his mouth over your chest, the tongue flicking over your nipple a terrible juxtapose to his crooning words?

taking it so well, baby. so tight, and perfect, and god. ‘s that what baby needs, huh, for me to touch her little clit?

the two men find a rhythm, a synchronised routine to how they pull and push you around. their thrusts ebb and flow, no moment existing where you sit empty. they treat your body like they treat the pool, swimming through your waves of pleasure and effortlessly advancing to the finishing line, the winning stroke. then, san’s hand meets your cheek and your thoughts are dragged underwater, muffling the sounds of everyone else- the shlickt sound that echoes with each inch of cock fucked into you, the high-pitched whimpers of a fucked out wooyoung, the slapping of skin against skin- as he pulls you in for a kiss.

it’s a hungry one, all teeth and tongue and swollen lips. you pull away more breathless than before and fighting back a big dopey grin, toes curling as the swell of one of their cocks hits a nice spot inside you, body too on fire to know just exactly where the new wave of heat is coming from.

“h-how d’you do it, hm?” it’s almost a whisper, something meant only for your ears, yet you hear him loud and clear, voice stuttering off in a mess of whines and moans. “still got that pretty-girl smile, even while getting fucked silly.”

it almost makes you shy, till you remember what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with. you settle for a quick, short answer. mostly because you fear you’re losing the ability to think in full-sentences, much less speak one out loud. “can multitask.”

like your own words are the key to pandora’s box, your eyes widen, and your mouth dries, and your heart reels as a new desire burrows itself somewhere between the parts of you owned by san and the parts owned by seonghwa. the desire makes room for more, for someone more, and, without much chance for second-thoughts or hesitation, you find what little stability you can manage with one hand pressing down onto san’s toned chest and reach forward with your free hand.

fingers, light as a feather, curl around wooyoung’s solid shaft. the man’s hips stutter at the unexpected contact, eyes flying open to glance down in time to watch you reach out your tongue, licking up the droplets of precum that threaten to spill from his mushroomed tip.

“please, god, please!” he’s beyond the point of sense, poor baby, struggling to keep up with yunho’s hips’ repeated slamming into his tight ass. so, you can’t really blame him or shame him for the way he hastily rips his hand through your hair, tugging your mouth as far down his cock as the angle allows.

a few hairs rip from your skull in his grip. you reward him with a pleasant hum, moans muffled with the mouth-full he’s providing you.

“shit- look at that,” seonghwa pipes up from behind you, the motion of his hips never faulting or failing as he continues to take part in the filthiest three-way tango known to man, hands bouncing you down to meet each raise of san’s hips, plundering the other man’s cock deep, deep, deep, till he’s kissing your cervix and you’re seeing stars before your eyes. “should cup youngie’s- fucking christ- his balls, san, cup ‘em.”

you’re vaguely aware of his compliance, hand lifting off whatever part of you it was touching- your nipple, your hip, your jaw, it’s hard to tell when you feel like san’s everywhere, all over you, part of you- to graze the set of well-groomed spheres that threaten to slap your chin each time wooyoung thrusts forward.

barely two seconds, hardly any pressure against them, and the youngest of the four is nearly in tears, wailing and begging over broken whines that it’s too much, can’t take it, don’t stop.

there’s a ringing in your ear. because everything is becoming too much: wooyoung in your mouth, san rutting up into you and seonghwa’s hands clawing and pulling your body back into each of his overpowered thrusts. the boy in front of you is the first to fall apart, twitching in your mouth and, without a warning, choking you on the cum he shoots down your throat. a hand pulls you back, just enough to paint your face in the final drops released from wooyoung.

one of the other men is next, a string of curses and grunts filling the air. there’s a new stickiness between your legs, gooey white staining your skin. it’s all building up, and up, and up, until you topple over and are sent reeling into wave after wave of blinding pressure, toes cramping up and muscles spasming as you shoot off into another astral field, creaming around san and chocking seonghwa’s cock.

you don’t register the release of your hips nor the crash-down of your body. one moment, you’re pressed back against seonghwa, mouth dropped open in a silent scream for merciless pleasure, and the next you’re cradled in san’s warm embrace, a crooning tone to the way he hushes and calms you, unheard i got yous, and did so good for us, babys, and just let me hold yous falling on deaf ears.

for a moment in your own history, time ceases to exist.

there’s no ticking of the large clock on the wall, reminding you of how long ago your shift had ended. there’s no thoughts of your plant friend drying out in the staleness of your room, desperately awaiting you to revive it with some h2o. there’s no consequences awaiting your actions, no shame to be feared and leaving you unable to look any of the four swimmers in the eye ever again.

instead of being crashed against choi san’s body, a mixture of his, yours, and several other people’s bodily fluids serving as the adhesive that keeps you stuck together in your mess, you’re floating in space, not quite alive but not quite dead, just there.

nerves tingling, body aching, mind switched off.

four, or five, or ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by the time you regain focus on your surroundings.

your name, whispered. it’s his voice that pulls you back, sweet and soft and oh so like the san you’re used to, the one that sends teasing winks your way when your eyes happen to meet his in class, and the one who has the prettiest notes you’ve ever seen, a colour-scheme for his every highlight and the cutest of doodles to go along with the topic on the paper.

the one who’s hand is currently brushing through your hair, fingers careful as they catch on the tangles near the split ends.

“hmm,” you swear you want to say his name, say more than that, but there’s an ache in your jaw that hinders you from even attempting, your voice-box likely having taken a beaten in the throws of your pleasured moans.

“you okay there?” he giggles over the end of the sentence, and you feel your slowing heartbeat stutter at the sound.

he feels you nod into the crook of his neck and lets his free hand find perch against your hip, moments before giving it a light squeeze.

he’s warm, and pleasant, and soft.

and moving you both into an up-right position, hands splaying flat against your back and keeping you secure against him, your legs wrapping around his slender waist. you drift off again, between time and space, and come to at the first drop of water that lands on your back.

one drop, two drops, and then a downpour of heat crashing onto both of you.

you can tell from the colour of the pinkish tiles along the communal shower floor that you’re in the women’s changing room, and mentally note to thank him, even if he’s not aware, for bringing you somewhere you won’t have to shamefully stumble out of in the nude, your change of clothes safely tucked away within one of the lockers.

“i’m gonna put you down now, okay?” he speaks so gently that it overwhelms you, answering him only with an affirmative nod of your head.

neither of you speak while he lathers shampoo into your hair, nor when he’s dragging his soap covered hands over the cum that stains your skin, wiping it away and leaving nothing but suds where the liquid once was. he doesn’t speak while covering your eyes with his hands, blocking the sting of the shampoo. you don’t speak when you inch closer, head falling forward to rest against his chest.

when he does eventually speak again, both of your fingertips are wrinkled and bodies are clean, the water of the shower serving as nothing but a way to keep warm.

“you’re, uh, not” the echo of his voice in the empty lockers feels so much more intimate than how his cries sounded by the pool. “doing anything on wednesday, right?”

too lazy to move, you angle your face to stare up at him from his chest and take a moment to just stare, look at the way his hair is sticking to his forehead, at the way his eyes are back to being wide, at the way the marks you’d littered along his neck are becoming more prominent.

“how’d you know?” your question confirms his own, and a tenseness you’d not noticed melts off of his shoulders.

“wednesday is race day. you never work race days.”

it’s such an odd detail to have noticed, and it’s making you question everything you thought you knew about your relationship with san. do acquaintances remember each other’s schedules? do acquaintances bring each other soothing teas when they notice the other developing flu symptoms? do acquaintances waste time pulling faces at each other in lectures they should probably be paying attention to.

“i’m not taking part in the race this time, by choice. my grades are good enough, don’t need to worry about winning some championship to keep my education.” san is speaking unpromptly at this point, rambling in a way you’ve only seen him do when he’s nervous, or excited, or both. “it’s okay if you don’t want to, or you have better things to do or places to be! but, i was just thinking, maybe you’d wanna spend some time with me? there’s this medieval market down on main-street, it’s meant to be really cool, and i just think it would be even cooler to go with you? but, again, you don’t have to. forget it, actually, i’m being stupid and assuming you’re not doing something with your friends or your-”

the kiss you interrupt him with is far more innocent than the one you shared earlier, no hands rushing to touch and tongues desperate to taste, just two sets of lips moving as one.

you pull back and he chases after you, lips landing another peck before you’re grasping his cheek in your hold and forcing him back.

“i think you could have asked me to come help clean your apartment for you and i’d still say yes, just to spend my day with you,” you say, and he smiles as if on instinct, unable to stop it even if he tried.

“really?”

“really.”

“good, cause i already bought us two tickets and i really didn’t wanna have to go alone.” there’s drops of water dancing on his eyelashes, and laziness in his every movement, and you’re both still very much naked, but none of that seems to matter when he gives you another peck, like he’s awakened an addiction and your lips are now his favourite vice. “but, now that you mention it, my apartment could do with some cleaning. and i bet you’d look amazing in a maid outfit.”

a slap echoes in the showers.

“hey! don’t worry, i’ll be wearing a matching one!”

#ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #choi san smut #jung wooyoung smut #ateez oneshot

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green-agent · 7 months ago

Text

Crush

Jung Wooyoung x fem!Reader

Highschool au, Implied academic rivals to lovers.

Genre: fluff, crack, slight jealousy

W.C: 600

Warning: mentions of a playboy (not Woo) let me know if I missed something.

Note: Just randomly had this idea. I was having a long writer's block cus of Brewing Love Next Door so the series can continue later.

"You have a crush on her"

"I do not!", said a furious Wooyoung. Making Yeosang roll his eyes.

"then why are you so interested in her love life?", San added, slamming shut his notebook.

"Look, I just don't want her to date Jinwoo, okay? He's a playboy, she's gonna get her heart broken." Wooyoung scoffed.

"First of all, she isn't an idiot. Second of all, if you dislike her so much, why do you care if she gets her heart broken?" Said Yeosang in a 'are you dumb' tone, opening a book on Mathematics.

"And seriously, do you think she would want to date Jinwoo?" Mingi spoke.

"I mean... he's handsome. So…" Wooyoung mumbled, suddenly feeling insecure.

"and he has dated half the girls in our class. It's no surprise. Y/n, out of everything, knows good. I mean Ruka, her best friend at that time, dated Jinwoo and now? She hates the word love." Yunho stated.

"Ruka also hates Y/n, what about it?"

"Wooyoung, you just have to admit. The feeling you're feeling right now is jealousy.", Explained Mingi.

"I'm not jealous!" Wooyoung said a little loudly, earning a glare from the librarian.

"said every male lead after seeing the female lead with another guy." Yeosang stated with annoyance.

"And what if I do like her?" Wooyoung sighed, annoyed by his friends' nagging.

Yunho,Yeosang, San and Mingi exchanged victorious looks.

"Then you should confess" Yunho grinned.

"HELL NO"

"Mr. Jung, do we need to talk?" Said the librarian, glaring at Wooyoung, who quickly apologized and 'no'.

"hell no" he repeated.

"do you want her to date Jinwoo, then? No, right? Then confess" San said as if it was the most obvious thing.

A familiar classmate and friend tapped on Wooyoung's shoulder. "And who is it that you like?"

Annoyed, Wooyoung replied before turning around, "don't be oblivious, Jongho, it's Y/n-", and once he had turned around, he definitely didn't expect to see You. All grinning. How was he that big of an idiot to not differentiate between his friend and crush?

"you have a crush on me?", You said, grinning at him.

"y-y/n, what are you doing here?…" He stuttered, making the other four boys have a hard time not laughing.

"if you somehow managed to forgot, Wooyoungie, the library is my second favorite place in this school" You said, adding the nickname to tease him.

"and the first?" Jongho finally came back to the table with the book on Biology he was looking for.

"the cafeteria. But that's not what I'm here for. I was originally here to ask you out on a date. So, Wooyoung, wanna go out with me?" You said, loving the effect you had on him.

He was kinda... okay not kinda, but very red.

"date? Oh-um... y-yeah...sure, I'd go with you", he managed to speak.

"great, so I'll meet you this evening, at the Destiny Cafe. Like at...5?"

"sounds great..."

"I'll see you later, then. Bye!" You said, walking out of the Library with a proud smile.

And Wooyoung stood there, red. Blushing and smiling. Internally screaming cus oh em gee! His crush asked him out.

"oh my, Woo, she asked you out first!"

"yeah, you better not be a dumbass during the date"

"buy her flowers!"

"and if you have time, bake or cook her something delicious"

The four sentences were said by his friends, who said what, he didn't remember. He was too happy to listen.

You asked him out.

His crush asked him out.

If you are a reader of Brewing Love Next Door, I'm sorry to inform you but the updates will be very late. I'm sorry again 😔.

Taglist: none (send an ask or dm me to be tagged. Either in Ateez works, all my works or the TXT ones)

Divider: @cafekitsune

#✒------💚 mine #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #jung wooyoung #ateez imagines #ateez #Wooyoung #Wooyoung ffluff #Wooyoung crack

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joonggphilia · 10 months ago

Text

☼Who’s in Charge☼ (J W.Y)

☼pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Male reader ☼genre: smut ☼prompt: “you really thought I would just fall into your arms?” ☼CW: school au!, enemies to idk, dub con, blowjob, meany Wooyoung ☼a/n: I love him <33333 also rip readers, no fluff from me or Jubin.

Read jaemmphilia’s version here!!!!

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M/n l/n. The schools popular guy, the athlete type, everybody loved him except for Jung Wooyoung, the student council president. The two had been going at it since elementary school. No one knew why you two hated each other so much, it was just common knowledge. Some people say you two are polar opposites, some people think it’s a fight over grades, or maybe teacher’s favorite. Others, say you two like each other, but that’s bullshit….. “Cmon m/n, just do it. I’m sure you’ll get an answer if you charm him.” Your friend Yunho, pushed. He wanted you to find out if Wooyoung really did like you. Absolutely ludicrous. “Shut up, he’ll hear you.” You groaned, nudging yunho as you passed the student council office. “Just go.” Yunho cackled, pushing you into the door. Oh fuck. “Excuse me?” Wooyoungs sharp voice rang out, his fox eyes scanning your form. “U-uhm, Woo! I wanted to ask you something.” You asked in your best flirty tone. “M/n, I really don’t have time for you.” He said, almost like your name in his mouth tasted bad. “Oh cmon, just listen.” You grinned, sitting on the edge of his desk. He looked up at you through his glasses, raising an eyebrow. “You like me don’t you.” M/n sneered, leaning down to look in Wooyoung’s eyes. “Come here.” Wooyoung hummed, motioning for you to come stand in front of him. You were so ready for his answer….excited almost? Wooyoung smiled at you, his eyes sweet and playful. “M/n you…….really thought I would fall into your arms?” Wooyoung cackled, his laugh was piercing and cruel. “Well I-“ you started, but got cut off. “It’s ok. I see the way you look at me. Sit.” Wooyoung demand, pushing your shoulders down so you fell to your knees. “Since you like me so much, why don’t you do what you want. I’m right here.” He said, grinning as he sat on his office chair. “Wooyoung, I promise, I didn’t mean it like this.” You persisted, massaging your knee slowly. “Just suck me off m/n. You want it. I’m frustrated.” Wooyoung shrugged, leaning back farther. You looked at him in shock and disbelief, was this really Wooyoung talking. The sweet, innocent, and kind student pres. was pushing you onto your knees and demanding you give him a blowjob. It was hot. “Woo-” You muttered, but he placed his hand on his zipper. “Good boy, I knew you liked me.” He sneered, his voice dripping with hate. You slipped his pants down and his cock immediately hit your cheek. He didn’t wear any underwear to school? You let it slip your mind, carefully grabbing onto his erect penis and bring the tip to your lips. “I don’t have all day.” Wooyoung mumbled, placing his hand on your head. This caused you to rush a little bit, taking him into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his agitated tip. You took him deeper and deeper, inch by inch, using your hands on what you couldn’t reach. Slurping noises rang out around the room. “You’re not very good at this.” Wooyoung fake yawned, pushing you all the way down on his cock and holding you there. You gagged and gasped as he laughed. Tears brimmed at your eyes, threatening to fall. He then pulled you up by your hair and made eye contact with you. “Now make me cum, or everyone will know about how you like me soooo much.” Wooyoung laughed, and pushed you down back onto his cock.

“have you seen m/n?” Yunho hummed, asking one of his soccer teammates. He hasn’t seen m/n since he pushed him into Wooyoung’s office. “He stayed overnight to study with Wooyoung. Maybe Wooyoung does like m/n?”

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#Jung Wooyoung x Male Reader #Wooyoung X Male reader #wooyoung X reader #ateez X male reader #ateez X reader #ateez smut #smut #writing collab

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wonyourdreams · 7 months ago

Note

may I ask for a florist!wooyoung x m!reader, the plot is up to you as long as there's flirting and fluff :)

9:15

Wooyoung x Male reader

Genre: Fluff, slice of life, crack(?)

Warnings: Toothache

Wooyoung hums as he arranges the flowers outside the shop "Woo I have to run some errands please watch the shop for me" you say as you try to check if you have everything you need in your bag

"You got nothing to worry about boss" Woo replies with a wide smile

"Do you want anything? Food? Coffee? My treat just tell me" You asked while looking at him wiping his hands with his small towel

"How 'bout a kiss before you go" He said with no emotion shown on his face, you blink a few times trying to figure out if he's being serious or just another of his awkward jokes

"I'm serious" you said raising a brow

"So am I" he replies still with a poker face

"I'm just gonna go" you said awkwardly pointing at your car

"If that offer of coffee is still up, yes i want one, i'd appreciate it" he shouts as you walk down to your car smiling at his response

Wooyoung was a florist at your shop, you found him at a dumpster all beaten up and filled with bruises, he was a former gang member

You were about to leave him but he woke up and asked for your help, you didn't want to but you knew your conscience wouldn't let you sleep if you just left a person asking for help

You remember him begging you to give him a job and help him start fresh, which at first you were hesitant but you did anyway

You laughed remembering how he promised to stop smoking if you did help him.

As you were out running errands, Wooyoung back at the shop was doing tasks, cleaning the shop, arranging flowers, and receiving the deliveries

"Hyung your so cute" he talks to the daisies in front of him

He loved taking care of the flowers but he took extra care of the daisies, as he knew they were your favorite

After two hours of errands you finally arrived

"Let me help you with those hyung" Woo said as he helped take out some paper bags out of your car

"Thanks Woo" you said "Here's your coffee" you gave him the cup you ordered

"Awe hyung you do care about me" he joked

"Shut up" you said, as you followed him inside

"But seriously hyung" You look at him waiting for him to say something "Thank you" he said as he holds both your hands

Your heart starts beating faster, shoot here we go again, you thought

"I took all the courage I could to tell you" He let go of your hands and went behind the counter to bring out a bouquet of daisies "I really like you hyung" he hands you the flowers

"Oh Woo—", he interrupted you, "No, I know, I'm not asking you out, for the past year I've been living in your house and working for you, I just really want you to know, I like you, you helped me change for the better and made me want to be more than just a gangster" He said

He pulls out a paper out of his apron and handed it to you, "Hyung I got into a University, I'm going to college" He smiled

"You don't need to worry about money I got a scholarship, as for the flower shop, I'm here still just there's a few hours a day I have to be in school" he said "As for the money for supplies and food, I got it covered, I've been saving up from the past year working here"

You cried, not out of sadness, not out of pity, but of joy, you have seen Wooyoung grow from a gang member who often bickered with customers to a ray of sunshine who likes to joke around with customers

"Hyung are you okay?" He said concerned as he saw you covering your mouth and started to cry

You jumped at him to hug him "I'm proud of you, always" you said burying your face to his shoulder

Wooyoung smiled, "I'm 24, but like you said, I don't need to be anxious of my age cause either way I'm just living my life, I want to be better hyung, as soon as I graduate I'll open up more businesses like yours and help you here in the shop, and then I'll ask you out" he said chuckling

You laughed at his antics "Then I guess I'll wait for you" you smiled at him fondly and caressed his cheeks

He smiles back at you, "Then I'll make sure I'm worth the wait"

—

A/n: Another long overdue, I tried to go to an angsty direction but I just finished my exams (fck nursing school) So tell me if this was boring

redirectory

#kpop x male reader #ateez x male reader #ateez #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung x male reader #Jung wooyoung x male reader #ateez imagines #ateez san #ateez yeosang #ateez jongho #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez fluff

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asherthehimbo · 1 month ago

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Guardians poems

-containing all the poems for the Guardians series, this is a silly little project I made that I feel not only helps us get to know the characters better, but also gives us a bit of insight into what is briefly mentioned but never focused on. each character will have two poems, one for love, one for backstory.

-updates, the poems update like chapters in a game, after certain things about the characters are revealed their poem will be too, I will link their poem here and in the end of the chapter that the poem is unlocked. please do not read poems you have not 'unlocked' as you may not understand them AND they may cause spoilers, wich could impact your reading experience, ofcourse I can't stop you from how you wish to read them, but choose wisely

Kim Hongjoong, the basilisks reign

[ Captain] | [??] not yet unlocked

Park Seonghwa, the dragons vengeance

[Forgotten] | [??] not yet unlocked

Jeong Yunho, the unselfish wolf

[??] | [Selfish] not yet unlocked

Kang Yeosang, the yearning siren

[??] | [Pearl] not yet unlocked

Choi San, the elemental's claws

[??] | [content] not yet unlocked

Song Mingi, the unholy wolf

[??] | [You and me] not yet unlocked

Jung Wooyoung, the fire you lit

[??] |[??] not yet unlocked

Choi Jongho, the siren's sense of belonging

[??] |[??] not yet unlocked

----

Guardians masterlist | Ateez masterlist | navigation

Taglist [14/30]: @foxilsdenn @zzstar @glitchyaiko @brrrkdslek @scarfac3 @xavi-in-kpopland @conwunder @venn-ie @dahbee8 @idkwhatto-namethis @seongsangssbitch @grapejellysollie @haocovr @leezanetheofficial

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star-suh · 1 year ago

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🎃 The Posessed 🎃

jung wooyoung x male reader

cw: top priest wooyoung, profanity or sacrilege(?), hierophilia, exorcism porn, slapping, voyeurism, a sprinkle of yunho at the end.

an: i don't know much about how fathers talk yk like when they use those words like 'shall' so i won't use them.

—

y/n was walking to his home when a paper sheet hit his face, it was in an ancient language, he just folded it, saved it in his pocket and went home. while walking he felt his leg burning, the paper sheet was burning and some type of seal was imprinted on his leg. he decided to walk to his home and rest hoping the feeling would dissipate soon. it was night and y/n was sweating a lot and feeling immense heat and his dick was rock hard he started to hump his bed but nothing calmed his needs. hearing growls and moans y/n's friend went to his room and there he was, y/n was crawling in the walls and ceiling "the fuck are you looking at?" a demonic voice coming out of y/n's mouth, scared of what was happening to his friend the dude decided to go to the nearest church and ask the father to practice an exorcism on him. "hello, i'm father wooyoung in what can i help you?" he asked, a tired guy trying yo catch his breath responded "my… my friend i think… he's possesed. he was crawling the �� fucking walls", "don't say bad words in the temple of god, son" the father responded "where does he lives?"....

y/n was now with his hands and feet tied up with ropes to each corner of the bed, "i suggest you to leave the house, i don't want another person to get possesed" suggested the father to the other guy who ran immediately from there. "so… where are you going to start?" asked the possessed y/n, "what do you mean? start what?" asked the father, "start to break this hungry ass" laughed y/n putting his thighs together trying to get some friction for his hard dick "it feels so hot inside just put inside please, it's already wet down there no need for lub" he says while sticking out his tongue and licking his lips. father wooyoung started to sweat those nasty words going straight to his dick who it's starting to get hard "what's your name demon?" he asked in a demanding tone "fuck yeah daddy, i like the dom ones" mocked y/n moaning and biting his lower lip. father wooyoung was starting to feel frustrated and horny too, something in the air was making him dizzy "what's your name demon?, leave this innocent person alone and go back to where you belong" he started to read the bible and point a crucifix towards y/n.

"wait" said y/n in his normal voice "what is happening?" father wooyoung looked at him surprised "i'm trying to save you son" he says but y/n's face turned into a mocking smirk. he laughed hysterically "c'mon i know you want it too" says the possessed guy breaking the ropes "honestly i don't know why people keep using ropes to tied possessed ones" he says rubbing his hands "aren't they supposed to have super strength?... anyways" y/n sat in a doggy position and rubbed his ass on father wooyoung's bulge "fuck it is so big, give it to me please" says y/n being a blushing mess and sticking out his tongue "you're a slut, get the fuck away from me" father wooyoung slapped y/n's hands very hard making him moan "fuckk~ i love that" y/n then grabbed his pants and ripped them apart showing his inviting hole craving for cock "fucking bitch" says father wooyoung with his notorious bulge forming a tent in his clothes "go back to hell and leave this person alone. the power of christ compels you" he repeated that last phrase three times and everytime he says it y/n moaned as if he was enjoying it. feeling defeated father wooyoung fell to the floor not knowing what to do, he stared at y/n's hole clenching while he was fingering himself "come and replace this fingers with your thick veiny cock father. exorcize me with that holy meat" he moaned while humping the bed again, as if he was possessed too father wooyoung just stood up, discarded his clothes and slapped his cock between y/n's ass cheeks "look what you're making me do" said the father worriedly, "don't fight the feeling, let yourself go and enjoy the feeling" moaned y/n with the father's tip inside of his ass already "fucking slut!!!" yelled the father slamming all his meat inside y/n at once making him see stars "hngh…. shit, i love this" says a cockdrunk y/n.

father wooyoung kept banging y/n's corrupted hole "i'm gonna expulse that slut demon out of you with my holy cock" he says with a mix of disgustment and pleasure on his face. y/n started to jerk off feeling that sensation in his lower tummy "you know for being a father you surely fuck good", father wooyoung slapped his face "shut the fuck up" he says with hatred, then grabbed y/n's dick and stroke it as hard as he could making him cum at the spot, it looked like a fountain of white sticky cum painting everything around it in white ropes. he doesn't realize it but y/n's eyes turned back to his normal color and the seal of his leg dissapeared "take this sacred seed and repent from your sins, manwhore" he says feeling his cock throbbing inside y/n filling him up with thick cum. feeling exhausted he positioned his hands on the side of y/n's head, both making eye contact, father wooyoung's sweat falling onto y/n's skin "father what is happening?" asked y/n feeling confused bit the sight in front of him was majestic, father wooyoung is hiding a smoking hot body under all those clothes, y/n just locked his arms on father wooyoung's neck and kiss him, the older corresponding to the kiss and started to thrust again going for a second round…

demon yunho was sitting on a tree, all this time he was watching the pornographic event while jerking off. with a movement of his hands he made the seal disappear and therefore recovered the part of his soul "that father fucks so good, damn" he says as he prepares to return to his lusty kingdom…

people were surprised seeing how y/n, someone who almost never went to church on his own, is now the first to go when it opens. what they don't know is that he is going to kneel but not exactly to pray "forgive me father for i have sinned" says the boy, father wooyoung just caresses his cheek and then slap it gently with his thick veiny cock "i forgive you my son" y/n just open his mouth and he starts to mouthfuck the boy. they spent the rest of their lives committing profanities giving in to their sexual desires and fantasies.

#wooyoung x male reader #jung wooyoung x male reader #ateez x male reader smut #ateez x male reader #ateez smut #ateez wooyoung #ateez wooyoung x male reader #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut

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rems-writing · 5 months ago

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Oh ok. He's actually kinda hot

Pairing: dilf!Yunho x babysitter amab!reader

Summary: I decided to do something different. Most babysitter fics always have the babysitter as a female rather than a male. So lemme try my hand at this shit lol

Warning(s): Slight mentions of coercion, mentions of drinking, Yunho being an awesome and unbelievably fucking hot dad, slight hand kink but it's not really a kink persay

Genre: cracked beginning, angsty middle, fluffy ending, spicy moments all around

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

Thank you to @bunnliix and @holybibly for helping me out with the partial synopsis set up of this fic. 🤍❤️💗🩷

"MINGI, SO HELP ME GOD! PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN NOW!"

All you received was boisterous laughter on your end and a smack to your butt. You tried to punch whoever smacked your booty, but since you were hoisted over one of Mingi's broad shoulders, you didn't get a good look at who smacked your butt. However, you had a solid idea.

As you approach a big mansion, Mingi finally set you down and you proceeded to try and beat the ass of the person that smacked your butt.

Jung Wooyoung, your best friend.

"Oh come on now, y/n! Don't be such a sourpuss!"

"Especially since you have to babysit my best friend's daughters soon."

"I have to WHAT?!"

Wooyoung broke out in his iconic high-pitched laugh while Mingi was wheezing. You, on the other hand, were fuming.

"I did not sign up for this fuck ass babysitting job! Let me go now before -"

Mingi cut you off by ringing the doorbell multiple times. Then, he took Wooyoung's hand and sprinted away as fast as he could.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH! I'MMA MESS UP YOUR DAMN ROOM AND COVER IT WITH FAKE SPIDERS WHEN YOU GET HOME FROM WORK!"

Even though they were far away to hear your threat, a new presence behind you chuckled smoothly and you froze momentarily before turning around and looking up slowly.

Oh.

So this is Mingi's best friend.

You gulped at the taller man before you and gave him a good once over.

He was wearing a regular suit and tie and his dark brown hair was swept back. He wasn't as broad as Mingi but he was still a bit lean with some muscle here and there. His warm brown eyes stared down at you in curiosity as he stuck a hand out for you to shake.

Said hand was big and veiny and his fingers were so nice to look at. You wondered what they would feel like wrapped around your throat -

'STOP IT, Y/N! PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER! HE'S PROBABLY MARRIED!'

"But there's no ring though...'

'It doesn't matter! He probably doesn't even like guys that way so just stop!'

You snapped out of your daze for a moment and shook the older man's hand.

"Uh... hi. I'm Hong Y/N. I'm Mingi's cousin. And I guess I'm your new babysitter. Sorry if I'm super awkward right now. I didn't expect myself to land a babysitting job, but I'm more than willing to accept it since I do technically need a job and -"

The older man shushed you gently to stop your rambling and smiled kindly before allowing you to enter his beautiful home.

"By the way, my name is Jeong Yunho."

His deep voice rumbled throughout the emptiness of the house and it sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

EVEN HIS NAME SOUNDED SEXY!

You turned around and smiled sheepishly before you saw him gesturing to a table. You assumed he wanted to interview you before he considered you for the job. You sat down at the table and he sat across from you before pulling out something from his briefcase.

When did you submit a resume?!

"Let's see here... 23 years old, graduated with a bachelor's degree in computer science. Currently unemployed as of the moment. Last job was at a tech company. You were let go due to... huh. Incompetence and refusal to take orders?"

Yunho was confused at that last part as he continued to speak and assess you.

"Based on your skills, it seemed you had a good understanding of the job environment and you were able to make a lot of money off this job. There must be some reason as to why you were let go."

You sighed and clutched the cardigan that you were wearing close to you. It was useless since it was loose and a part of it fell off your shoulder, causing some skin to be revealed. Yunho spotted this and he gulped nervously as sinful thoughts entered his mind.

'God he's so perfect. So pure and free of anyone that would dare corrupt him. Maybe I can be the one to make him my dirty angel...'

'No, stop it, Yunho! He's young! He would never settle for an old man such as yourself...'

He swallowed down the thoughts as he listened to you speak tentatively on why you were let go.

"Long story short, apparently my old boss had a crush on me back in the day and she asked me out. I politely declined her and told her I'm gay. She was confused but then she tried to 'persuade' me into giving her one chance to which I blatantly said no. She got angry and tried one more time, yet I shut her down with ease. In the end, she grew petty and fired me."

Yunho grew angry upon hearing the real reason for you being fired but he remained calm since you appeared to be unbothered by it.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Y/N. I'm glad to hear that you stood up for yourself but saddened to hear that it cost you your job."

"It's ok, sir. Karma backed me up since then. I read this morning that my old company's stocks have crashed and my boss got fired since someone reported her."

Yunho heard the happiness in your voice and his heart swelled with adoration for you. He stood up and stuck out his hand once more.

"You got the job, Y/N. Let me give the breakdown on how to take care of my three bundles of joy."

---------------------------------------------------

This babysitting job was easier than you would've expected. And it paid even more than your last job.

Yumi was the eldest of the three. She was six years old and a social butterfly just like her dad. And she was surprisingly mature for such a young age as well. You treated her more like an adult rather than a child and she was ok with that.

Yunju was the middle child of the three. She was three years old and a bit more on the shyer side, yet she warmed up to you right away. Your heart swelled up in adoration when the two sisters playfully fought out who got to play with you next.

Chanmi was the youngest of the three and was actually adopted. The little baby was abandoned by her parents and your heart broke a little when Yunho told you the story of how she came about. You were glad that Yunho adopted her and you were even more glad that you were taking care of her.

Yumi was busy putting Chanmi down for her nap so Yunju took the opportunity to get to know you better since Yumi already got to talk to you as soon as her dad left.

"So Yumi told me you were gay... what does that mean?"

You let out a slight laugh and grinned at the way Yunju tilted her head in curiosity.

"So you know how guys like girls in a romantic sense? Well, it's the same thing but instead of me liking girls, I like guys instead."

"Oh! So whenever you see a cute boy pass by, you get butterflies in your tummy?!"

"Something like that yes."

Yunho definitely gave you a lot more than just butterflies when you laid eyes upon him.

Yunju's eyes widened even more and she started bouncing up and down on the couch.

"So does that mean that you get butterflies whenever you're around daddy?!"

You almost spit out the tea that you were drinking but you composed yourself. You had no idea what to say to that. Luckily, you didn't have to since Yumi came around the corner and sat in between you two.

"Come on, Yunju! It's time to take a nap."

"But I want to hear more about Mr. Hong's fe-"

"And you will! Later though. You know you get cranky when you don't take a nap. Come on now."

Yunju pouted before sighing dramatically in defeat and climbing off the couch before sprinting to her room. Yumi sighed and looked at you.

"Sorry about her. She's just excited to finally have a babysitter that accepts all of us." She smiled sadly while you grew confused.

"Wait... what do you mean?" Your voice grew soft with concern as Yumi sighed.

"Before you came along, Mommy and Daddy were in love. But as soon as Daddy became the CEO of his company, that love started to disappear. They started fighting and I had to cover Yunju's ears since she's sensitive to loud noises so I had to be the one to endure the shouting and constant arguing. One day, Daddy came home and... and..."

She sniffled as she tried to get the words out while you remained patient and even gave her a tissue to use so she could wipe away her tears. Your heart was breaking every minute she spoke of how her family came to be.

"Daddy found Mommy with weird papers in her hand and all her bags at her side. Daddy was heartbroken when Mommy said something about divorce and how he never has time for her or something like that. After Daddy signed the papers, Mommy took them and left us. She... she didn't even say goodbye!"

Yumi was full on crying and you fought hard to keep your anger to yourself so you could focus on comforting the six-year-old. Despite the maturity that she displayed, she was still a young child at the end of the day that yearned for a complete family. Through her choked sobs, she kept speaking.

"From there, a lot of babysitters came and went. They were fine with Yunju and I at first, but when Chanmi came into the picture, that's where it went downhill again. They couldn't handle the screaming and crying of little baby Chanmi apparently which is stupid! Chanmi is just a baby!"

She huffed and crossed her arms to which you found adorable, but then you remembered one of Yunho's rules and you spoke softly to Yumi.

"I understand how you feel, but your dad doesn't want you saying words like that. Yunju might catch on and maybe Chanmi as well." You lectured her lightly and almost laughed when you saw the embarrassment on her face.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry, Mr. Hong! I couldn't help it!" She whined and you chuckled softly before patting her head affectionately.

"It's ok. As long as you don't do it again, I'll let it slide. And I won't tell your dad."

Yumi nodded and a smile broke out on your face as she kept speaking.

"As I was saying, most babysitters never fully accepted the three of us. Until you came along. I know it's early, but I want you to stay for as long as you can. I like you, Yunju likes you, and Chanmi likes you. She hasn't cried the entire time you were here!"

Yumi hugged you tightly and you hugged her back. Yumi let out a small yawn and you chuckled to yourself.

"Why don't you take a nap this time? I'll keep an eye out for your younger siblings?"

Yumi nodded and placed her head in your lap before snoring lightly. You shrugged off your cardigan and draped it over her before staring off into space.

---------------------------------------------------

"Hey."

You groaned as you heard someone whisper in your ear. You shrugged it off, thinking you were imagining it. The voice came again.

"Hey, Y/N. Come on. It's time to wake up."

You groaned once more and kept sleeping.

"If you don't wake up, I'll kiss you awake. Come on now."

That shot you awake. As you sat upright, you looked around frantically for any sign of Yumi and her siblings, only to hear familiar shouting come from one of the rooms. You looked up and you were almost nose to nose with their sexy father.

"Uh... hi, sir."

Yunho suppressed the thoughts and smiled once more.

"You can just call me Yunho. And hey to you too. Had a nice nap?"

You blushed out of embarrassment as you put your cardigan back on.

"I'm sorry, Yunho. I didn't realize that I dozed off. It won't happen again."

Yunho let out a quiet laugh and shook his head.

"No worries. They can be a handful at times. Mingi is occupying them so you and I could talk."

You grew nervous as he said that. And it didn't help that his outfit changed yet he still looked good. He wore a brown sweater, gray sweatpants, and glasses. His dark brown hair was free from the confines of the hair gel that kept it up and it looked damp as well, indicating that he probably showered. His cologne was subtle yet it still smelled good. As he sat down next to you, he looked at you for a little bit with an unfamiliar expression in his eyes.

"Yumi and Yunju wouldn't stop talking about you. And it seems Chanmi has taking a liking to you as well with the way that she didn't cry once when you held her. I think I found the perfect match. But only if you want to stay. I would love for you to be a part of their lives, but if this is only temporary, then that's ok as well."

Despite the smile on his face, his eyes read a different story. You sighed quietly and looked into his eyes. You loved babysitting his kids. There was no way you could leave them after hearing their backstory. Without knowing it, you grabbed Yunho's hand and smiled.

"I want this to be permanent. I would like to keep this job."

Yunho's smile brightened and he brought into a hug. He was warm and you relished in it for a bit before pulling away.

"Welcome to the family, Y/N."

---------------------------------------------------

That was over a year ago. Ever since then, you've been a part of the Jeong family for as long as you can remember. Yumi, Yunju, and Chanmi were more than happy to hear that you were to be a permanent part of the family.

So you could imagine the looks on their faces when they had to be sent away one Friday night to have a sleepover with Mingi, his own kid, and a new boo he's been seeing apparently.

Chanmi was asleep in Mingi's arms, Yunju fought a little bit before giving up, and poor Yumi bit Mingi's hand before running back into the arms of her father and you. Yumi looked up at you with big shiny eyes. Out of all the Jeong daughters, she was the closest to you. You cooed softly at the sight and bent down to kiss her forehead.

"It'll be ok, Yumi. It's only for one night. Tomorrow, the five of us can spend the day together as a family. Ok?"

Yumi nodded sadly before holding out her pinky.

"Pinky promise?"

You interlocked your pinky with hers and smiled down at her.

"Pinky promise."

Yumi giggled shyly before running over to her uncle Mingi. As soon as the four of them left, Yunho shut the door behind him and stalked over to you. A lazy smirk was on his face as he grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it.

"Come now. Let's have dinner. We're finally alone."

---------------------------------------------------

A few minutes and several glasses of soju later, the two of you were seated on the couch, laughing at old memories that you two shared of each other. From Yunho meeting up with Mingi everyday to eat lunch together to your first encounter with Wooyoung, the night was filled with laughter and joy. A comfortable silence formed between the two of you yet you didn't mind. As you finished your ninth soju bottle, you saw that Yunho had closed his eyes for a bit as a way to probably sober up a bit. He was breathing in and out slowly, his glasses were perched on the top of his nose, and the tips of his ears were still red but it wasn't as bad as before. Your eyes then dragged over his form and you couldn't help but feel flustered just from looking at him.

He wore a light blue dress shirt with the top buttons loosened and black jeans that fit his slim legs well. His chest rose up and down slowly while his hands were on either side of him. Light snores escaped from him and you found that slightly cute. Fueled by the soju in your body, you leaned in to give him a small kiss on the cheek.

Imagine your surprise when you felt his lips on yours.

You pulled away but not entirely since you felt his hands on your waist and your body pulled flush against his own. His eyes opened slightly and a smirk was on his face.

"Hey."

"Um... hi."

Your soft voice caused Yunho to chuckle and bring into a hug, his face being buried in the crook of your neck. Your blush worsened due to the close proximity between the two of you. He then pulled away and stared deeply into your eyes.

"May I confess something to you?" He asked quietly and you nodded.

"I think I've fallen for you. No wait. I have fallen for you. I fell for you when you first walked into my home. And those feelings developed into something more when I came home and saw my eldest laying comfortably against you."

Your heart rate increased as he kept talking but you found his hands slowly slipping away from you. You were about to protest lightly from the lack of warmth he provided when you saw him put his face in his hands.

"Sadly, I can't have you. You deserve more than just an old man like me. You deserve to be with someone who will come home to you and will give you their undivided attention."

When you heard the first sniffle, you immediately wrapped your arms around him. Yunho held you back as he continued.

"I tried so hard every day to make sure I came home on time for dinner, tuck the kids in bed, and kiss my wife goodnight before going to sleep beside her so she can wake up to me in the morning. However, it just wasn't enough for her. Hence, the fighting and whatnot. I'm sure Yumi told you everything."

"Yeah. She did."

"The next thing I know, she's divorcing me. Talking about how she doesn't want to be held back by someone who prioritizes work over family when that was never the case!"

Yunho was full on sobbing now and all you could do was shush him and tell him that everything is ok. He kept speaking.

"From there, I hired so many people to babysit my daughters but they never seemed to stick around for long." He raised his head to look at you.

"Until you came along."

He smiled weakly as he continued to speak.

"You've been understanding of my situation and never once complained about my kids or the weird schedule and so on. You've been so kind, patient, and loving. That's why... I confess my love to you. Aside from you doing an excellent job at babysitting, you're witty, intelligent, and so carefree of everything. Which leads me to ask you this."

He held your hands in his.

"Why do you stick around for an old man like me? You could've been out there, finding new job opportunities and dating people your age. Yet here you are, in the arms of someone like me. Why is that?"

You sighed shakily as you pondered your answer. You decided to tell the truth.

"While I love working with computers, sometimes, computer science takes a toll on the mind. Plus, sitting in front of a computer screen 24/7 for hours on end with countless stacks of paperwork becomes too boring. Being around your kids brought me life. Also, if I may, I've fallen for you as well. I figured you wouldn't want someone as young as me. But seeing as you've returned the feelings, I couldn't be happier."

Yunho's heartrate increased as you told him that you felt the same way. His eyes darted to your lips momentarily before looking at you once more. He was still a bit drunk, but he was sober enough to remember this.

"May I...?"

You nodded and felt your heartrate increase when he leaned in and kissed you on the lips for the second time.

His lips were soft and plush against your own and his hands held your waist with a gentle yet firm grip. As he held you close to him, you felt the love and passion he had for you in this kiss.

You were finally home.

#blossomnet #mirohsaurorasociety #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader

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joong-tori · 1 year ago

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𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸??

sensing disturbances in the force

m.list

aiiprn m.list

prev | next

#aiiprn??#ateez smau #kim hongjoong x male reader #ateez x male reader #choi jongho #jung wooyoung #song mingi #choi san #kang yeosang #jeong yunho #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong

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naesarangyunho · 2 years ago

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Beans on Toast(3)- Jung Wooyoung (Soulmate au, m! reader)

[i don't own these images credits to the original owners]

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Synopsis: Wooyoung and his friends finally meet y/n and his friends. Wooyoung and San's close friendship sparks jealousy in y/n, magnified by the fact that he has no idea whether he and Wooyoung are platonic or not. We catch a glimpse of Mingi and Yunho's predicament and learn that Seonghwa and San don't have soulmates.

Note: Hongjoong's soulmate's name is Jisoo which is a unisex Korean name and has nothing to do with Joshua from Svt or Jisoo from bp etc.

[Word Count: 4.3k]

"So you found him, huh?" Hongjoong said with a smile from the head of the table.

Y/n hadn't managed to see his friends for a couple of days, with the exception of seeing Jongho straight after having met Wooyoung, and his friend group was finally hanging out and catching up. He had mentioned in the group chat when he found Wooyoung but he hadn’t had a chance to talk about everything in person and avoided talking about it too much. He was a) shy and b) worried that if he overcame his shyness and started talking about Wooyoung he wouldn’t stop. His parents and siblings were already tired of his verbosity despite being very happy for him. (As well as jealous, on his two older siblings’ part as they were yet to find their own soulmates.

"Yeah, I found him," Y/n responded with a blush. Why the hell was he always so flustered when it came to Wooyoung. He got butterflies and behaved like a schoolgirl. He wasn’t usually this way, he would have you know.

"Aww, ma guardati. You’re so flustered." Alessandro teased and Y/n glared at him but there wasn't any real anger in his glare. Like Y/n had said before, it was difficult to stay mad at the Italian boy with his big smile and puppy eyes. He had not only Yeosang but the rest of the group wrapped around his finger.

"No, don’t look at me in any way- I am not flustered."

Jongho snorted, "You totally are."

Y/n’s glare found a new target, landing on Jongho who was leaning back in his chair across from him at the lunch table.

"I am not."

Jongho ignored him and looked at the group at large, "You guys should've seen him when he finally met me in the library."

Jongho leaned forward, his face sparkling with mischief, "He was a mess. He wouldn't shut up about this boy. We couldn't get any work done because he was so restless and kept drifting off."

Yeosang barked out a laugh as he saw the way Y/n's cheeks were burning, "Awww, you’re adorable. Crushing already?"

"Shut up. You guys are ones to talk."

His eyes scanned the faces of his friends with a pointed look.

Jongho was seated next to Minji, his hand resting on her knee under the table and Hongjoong sat close next to Jisoo, his knees pressed against theirs. Jongho and Hongjoong weren't very big on public displays of affection but anyone could see they were in love with their partners if you looked at them long enough.

Yeosang and Alessandro were different. For a while, Yeosang was the same as Jongho and Hongjoong but as time passed Alessandro, whose love language was very much touch, brought him out of his shell and most days they couldn't keep their hands off each other, always finding an excuse to touch in any way whether it be kisses, wandering hands or fingers constantly twined together.

Yeosang and Alessandro currently sat in the two chairs on Y/n’s right and Alessandro had his arm around Yeosang’s shoulders and Yeosang had reached a hand up to hold the hand that hung from his shoulder. Sickeningly sweet.

So yeah, his friends were in no position to tease him for liking someone, especially his soulmate.

"Okay, okay, enough teasing," Hongjoong spoke up, naturally taking the leadership role to keep the group in line.

"When do we get to meet him?" Yeosang piped up and the rest of the group hummed in agreement and looked at him expectantly.

Honestly, a small, selfish part of him wanted to keep Wooyoung to himself for a bit longer. They hadn't seen each other since their Chi-Maek night but they'd been chatting constantly over text and even called twice. Wooyoung loved talking and Y/n loved listening. But at the same time, he also wanted them to meet Wooyoung and see just why he couldn't stop talking about him.

"He wants to meet you guys too but I'm not sure when we-"

"Y/n?" a loud voice called out as if on cue and Y/n's heart jumped- he'd recognise that voice anywhere.

He whipped his head around and he saw Wooyoung walking towards him, a pink-haired man at his side who Y/n could only assume to be Seonghwa.

Huge smiles formed on both Y/n and Wooyoung's faces and Wooyoung waved excitedly before rushing across the university cafeteria towards him, Seonghwa scrambling to keep up with the energetic younger boy.

The minute Wooyoung reached Y/n he bent down from behind Y/n’s chair and smothered him in a hug, burying his face in his neck. The rest of his friend circle’s eyes widened at the ball of affectionate energy that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and had instantly clung to their friend. Y/n's cheeks were warm and he lifted his hands up to grip Wooyoung's arms that were wrapped around his shoulders.

Wooyoung pulled back and slid into the empty seat beside Y/n.

"Hey! I haven't seen you in forever." He whined with a pout and Y/n huffed out a laugh, "It's only been like a week, Wooyoung."

But to be honest, Y/n had missed him just as much.

"Yeah, but after having waited to meet you for how many years now, one week without you is torture."

"Drama queen," Y/n murmured affectionately.

Someone cleared their throats and Y/n looked up and across the table to Hongjoong who he guessed was probably looking for an explanation or introduction.

"Oh, guys, this is Wooyoung." Y/n gestured to the boy clinging to his arm.

Jongho snorted, "We'd figured."

Minji slapped his arm lightly and gave Wooyoung a friendly smile, "Hi, Wooyoung-ssi. We were just talking about you."

"Oh, good things only I hope."

"Oh, yes. We were talking about how Y/n-" Yeosang began but Y/n slapped a hand over his mouth, his face burning and his eyes giving his best friend a pointed don't you dare glower.

"Awww, are you shy? You're always so shy." Wooyoung teased and Y/n's glare moved to him. Wooyoung just laughed and so did the rest of the group.

"Oh, this is Seonghwa." Wooyoung gestured to the handsome man behind him.

"Hey, nice to finally meet you all." He gave them all a gorgeous smile, eyes crinkling up in the corners and Y/n had a feeling that if everyone wasn't already so smitten with their partners they'd have been swooning over him.

The group smiled and introduced themselves and Wooyoung was happy to finally have faces to match to the names and stories he'd heard.

"Oh, you guys are the ones that play soccer, right?" Wooyoung looked over at Jongho and Minji who raised their eyebrows.

"Yeah, why?" Jongho questioned and Wooyoung grinned.

"You guys up for a game?"

"What do you mean?" Minji inquired.

"Well, our friend group is hanging out on the lawn by that one big oak tree and some of us were wanting to kick a ball around this afternoon during lunch."

Seonghwa nodded, "Wooyoung and I just came to get some refreshments for the group before we head over. You guys are welcome to join."

Jongho considered it and so did the rest of the group.

"Sure, why not," Jongho responded and Alessandro nodded in agreement; he played soccer too.

"We were wanting to meet you guys anyways," Jisoo spoke up suddenly. They were always rather quiet so they must be serious if they were speaking up. Y/n watched Hongjoong smile at Jisoo when he caught the excited grin on their face. Jisoo really cared about their friends so it was natural that they wanted to meet the new people in Y/n's life.

"Well, that's settled then." Wooyoung let go of Y/n's arm and stood up.

The rest of the group started gathering their things and standing too. It was a lazy Saturday and no one really had much to do anyways.

"What's settled?" A deep voice suddenly said from behind them.

Y/n turned to find the source and saw a familiar blond man, a plastic spoon hanging from his lips and a small tub of ice cream in one of his large hands.

"Hi, Yunho." Y/n greeted and Yunho instantly smiled back.

"Hey, Y/n. Long time no see, how've you been? Wooyoung hasn't shut up about you."

Y/n turned to look at Wooyoung whose ears had gone red. Y/n reached a hand out and hooked his pinky with Wooyoung's with an amused grin.

"Don't you tease me too." Wooyoung gave him a side-eye.

Y/n laughed, "I wasn't."

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at him before clearing his throat and turning to Yunho.

"Y/n's friends are joining us for lunch."

"Oh? Well, why are we all still standing around? Let's go. I haven't seen Mingi all day."

And then he turned around and promptly walked toward the exit, shoving another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and followed him and Y/n wanted to ask who Mingi was again but Wooyoung was already moving, squeezing Y/n's fingers quickly before letting his hand go. Y/n instantly missed his touch and resisted the urge to grab his hand again. He still didn't know exactly where they stood and what he was allowed to do.

Soon enough they all reached the rest of Wooyoung's friend group, two boys sitting in the shade. Yunho immediately made his way over to the larger boy and tackled him in a hug.

"Hi, I've missed you."

Mingi laughed and wrapped an arm around Yunho, ruffling his hair with the other hand, "I saw you this morning at home, you idiot."

Yunho just ignored him and gave him a big smile and puppy eyes. Y/n gave them a questioning look and the other boy on the grass spoke up,

"Yes, soulmates."

Mingi and Yunho looked up, clearly having forgotten there was company.

"Platonic. Platonic soulmates." Mingi rushed out to clarify and Y/n saw the way Yunho's smile faltered and his eyes dimmed a little as he nodded in agreement. Y/n found it strange considering the what could only be described as heart eyes Yunho was giving Mingi but didn't say anything- it wasn't his place.

"You must be Y/n." The boy on the grass stood up, dusting his pants off, and walked over to him with a smile.

He gave him a charming smile and stuck a hand out, "I'm San."

Y/n recalled Wooyoung mentioning that San was his best friend.

He smiled politely and shook his hand, "Nice to meet you."

Wooyoung grinned, happy that his two favourite people were finally meeting.

He reached out and wrapped an arm around San and kissed his cheek, not thinking much of the action but Y/n noticed it and tried to hold back a frown as his heart jolted. Was Wooyoung just touchy with everyone, then?

Just as in the cafeteria, introductions were traded and soon enough conversations were being exchanged. Hongjoong and Jisoo sat down by Seonghwa and started discussing a course they discovered they shared like the boring elders they were. San, Wooyoung, and Y/n sat close together on the grass and Mingi, Yunho, Jongho, Minji, Alessandro and Yeosang (Alessandro had to all but drag him over to them) all began a mini soccer match as promised but Y/n noted that Yunho wasn't as excited about it as before.

"Don't worry, you're not the only one who sees it."

"Hm?" Y/n turned his head in San's direction.

"Yunho and Mingi."

"Oh. I didn't mean to stare or anything and it's not my place to comment either."

"It's okay. Everyone but Mingi seems to realise what's up but we've just learnt to keep our noses out of it."

"Yunho likes Mingi?"

Wooyoung nodded, "They've been best friends since they were little and were so ecstatic to find out they were soulmates. They've known each other for very long- longer than the rest of us have known each other- and it's pretty obvious that Yunho's been in love with him for years."

"Why hasn't he said anything?"

"Tricky situation. You don't want to end up creating a rift between you and your soulmate. He doesn't want to risk losing Mingi. It would hurt like hell." San said and Y/n felt so bad for Yunho. He seemed like the type to completely lose himself in his love for people and Y/n could only imagine how much this must hurt for him.

"This must probably hurt just as much," Y/n murmured.

"Probably, but as much as it has killed us to watch them be like that over the years, it's still not our place to interfere."

"Does everyone in your group have soulmates? If you don't mind me asking." Y/n asked out of curiosity.

San shook his head, "Seonghwa and I still haven't found ours. To be honest, we all thought Wooyoung and I were going to be soulmates."

Y/n felt a pang of unwarranted jealousy and hurt at his words and the way Wooyoung laughed and shoved San affectionately.

"We've known each other since we were around sixteen. We've been pretty inseparable since then so everyone naturally thought that would happen."

San nodded, "It would've made sense but it didn't happen and he has you now."

Y/n tried to smile. From the stories he'd heard about San and how comfortable and affectionate San and Wooyoung were with each other he would've believed you if you'd said they were soulmates. They looked good together too. Both were effortlessly attractive with beautiful smiles and bright eyes that sparkled with mischief. San was a little taller than Wooyoung and the slight size difference looked cute.

It was stupid, he knew it, but Yn couldn't help the feeling of uncertainty and doubt that sparked into existence within his heart.

The spark steadily grew into a flame in the two or so months that followed.

Y/n and Wooyoung's friend groups had effortlessly blended together and it was now common practice for them to all meet up when they could, whether it be lounging about on the lawn at school and kicking around a ball, studying or getting drinks.

Wooyoung and Y/n also hung out a lot outside of the group too, getting dinner together or simply staying in at one of their homes. But more often than not San was around. Wooyoung, San, Yunho and Mingi all shared a three-bedroom flat so it was expected that San would sometimes join in on their movie nights, cuddling against Wooyoung or sitting by his feet. Y/n knew they were best friends, he knew it. But just as Wooyoung and San had said, it was surprising that they weren't soulmates.

And, to make matters worse, as time passed Wooyoung started being just as affectionate and comfortable with Y/n. It sounds like it should be a good thing but it wasn't. Not really. Y/n loved the affection, he wasn't going to deny it, but Wooyoung seemed to be that way with pretty much everyone else so Y/n had no idea what to make of Wooyoung's cuddles and hand-holding. Nor did he know what to do with his cheek kisses or the way he'd nuzzle his face into Y/n's neck as he held him. To be frank, it wasn't good for his heart.

Wooyoung had never kissed him and he'd never dare kiss Wooyoung, already too nervous to properly return his affection and Wooyoung had also never said anything about dates or romance between them in general.

It hurt because it had been nearly three months and Y/n was stupidly in love. He didn't want to end up like Yunho with Mingi but as San said, it was a tricky situation. He didn't want to risk losing Wooyoung or making things awkward between them.

Y/n nearly reached his breaking point when Wooyoung and San announced they were forming a dance duo to compete in an upcoming competition.

Wooyoung was an amazing dancer and Y/n sat in on his dance practises whenever he had the chance and when he started sitting in on San and Wooyoung's practice with each other, the flame in his chest became a fire. San and Wooyoung had such great chemistry and their bodies moved so well together and sometimes Y/n felt like he was third wheeling with them or intruding. Y/n really didn't want to be that toxic guy. The guy that got jealous over their partner's friends but looking at San and Wooyoung he just couldn't help it and couldn't stop himself from wondering if the universe had truly made a mistake. How could he even begin to compare to San?

The music in the dance studio was lowered almost all the way down and Wooyoung came bounding over to Y/n, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, cheeks flushed and a broad grin on his face.

He threw his arm around Y/n's shoulders, "Hey you~ What do you think? How did I do?"

Y/n smiled softly and petted Wooyoung's arm, "You did well, Woo."

And he wasn't just saying that- Wooyoung truly was an amazing performer.

Wooyoung took a step back and ran a hand through his hair, "You sure? I'm kinda nervous for the competition to be honest. I haven't competed in a hot minute."

Y/n held his hand and gave it a squeeze, "Don't be nervous. You'll be okay. You're-"

He was cut off by San who had made his way over and thrown an arm around Wooyoung, the sudden movement causing Wooyoung's hand to slip out of Y/n's.

"Don't stress, we're gonna kill it! You're an amazing performer."

Wooyoung smiled at his best friend, "Thanks, Sannie. You're just as amazing though."

San bumped his shoulder into Wooyoung's, "No you,"

Wooyoung laughed and shoved San, "No you,"

Y/n watched the exchange with a tight chest and clenched fists. He was being so stupid about this but watching them act like this without knowing how Wooyoung felt about him in the first place hurt and made him horribly jealous.

"Oh," Wooyoung turned to look at Y/n, "What were you going to say, Y/n- (y)ah?"

Y/n shook his head with a tight smile, "Nothing that San hasn't already said.”

"Oh, okay."

Wooyoung was a bit confused and concerned at the way Y/n's mood was declining.

He turned to his best friend, "San-ah, I'll catch up with you later, 'kay?"

San's eyes flicked between Y/n and Wooyoung, sensing some tension in the air and nodded, "Ok."

And then he was gone, grabbing his bag on the way out. Now it was just Y/n and Wooyoung.

Y/n looked at Wooyoung, "Is something up?"

Wooyoung took a step closer to Y/n and placed a warm hand on his arm, "I should be asking you that. You've been…off lately. Especially when San is around. Did something happen? Do you need me to talk to him?"

Y/n was quick to shake his head, "No, San didn't do anything wrong."

"Then what is it?" Wooyoung pressed on, his hand sliding up Y/n's arm to rest on his neck, concern painting his features.

"Nothing. It's stupid- don't worry about it. Just focus on your competition, okay?"

Wooyoung shook his head, "If it's upsetting you this much then it isn't stupid."

Y/n hated the way his throat tightened and tears pricked at his eyes. He felt ridiculous. If you'd told him three months ago that he'd find his soulmate let alone fall deeply in love with them he would have laughed. Yet, here he was, falling completely apart because of the chokehold the soulmate bond had on him, all his feelings for Wooyoung magnified and the thought of Wooyoung not returning those feelings was breaking his heart.

Wooyoung panicked when he saw the tears brimming in Y/n's eyes and he rushed to cup his face in his hands, "No no no, don't cry, jagi. What's wrong? Let me help you."

The sudden term of endearment had Y/n's tears threatening to fall.

"I'm being stupid, Woo. That's all."

"Just tell me, I don't care how stupid you think it is."

Y/n looked at Wooyoung's handsome face and the way his eyebrows were drawn together in concern.

He gulped, "I'm jealous."

"Of what?"

"San. I know he's your best friend and it's dumb of me to be jealous of him but I can't help it. You guys look good together. Even you admitted that you'd thought you would be soulmates."

Wooyoung tenderly stroked Y/n's cheeks with his thumbs, "But we're not soulmates because you were meant for me. You're mine and I'm yours."

I'm yours. Not in the way Y/n wanted him to be.

Tears finally slid past the confines of Y/n's lashes despite his determination not to cry.

Wooyoung looked properly concerned now, "Why are you crying?"

"Are we platonic?" Y/n blurted out.

Wooyoung frowned deeply, "What?"

"Are we platonic soulmates?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Because I love you, Wooyoung and the thought that you might only think of me as a platonic soulmate is killing me inside."

A sob escaped him and he cursed himself for getting this dramatically emotional. Wooyoung just stared at him in shocked silence. It seemed that Y/n wasn't going to get a response so he sniffed, pulled out of Wooyoung's hold and turned to leave. He didn't get very far because Wooyoung grabbed him, turned him back around and crushed their lips together in a kiss.

Y/n froze as his brain lagged for a second but the second it caught up, he held Wooyoung by the back of the neck and kissed him back. Wooyoung held him tight and kissed him tenderly and slowly. After a while, he pulled back to look at Y/n. Y/n's eyes fluttered open and he looked at Wooyoung with flushed cheeks and parted lips.

Wooyoung gave him another soft kiss, "No, we're not platonic soulmates."

Wooyoung hugged Y/n tight and buried his face in his neck. He pressed a small kiss to the skin there, "San and I have known each other for a long time. I love him and he's my best friend. But you're my soulmate, the person literally destined to be mine. How could I not return your feelings?"

He pulled his face to look at Y/n again, "Don't compare yourself to San. Or anyone else for that matter, okay? My love language is touch and I'm clingy, I know. But my love for you is different from my love for my friends and family."

He reached up and gently stroked Y/n's hair from his face, I might hug and hold onto everybody all the time but you're the only person I want to kiss and touch. There's only you."

Y/n finally reacted, blushing at his words and burying his face in Wooyoung's neck. Wooyoung chuckled and stroked his hair.

"My shy baby," He cooed.

Y/n tightened his hold on Wooyoung's waist, "I'm yours. Only yours."

Wooyoung smiled and kissed his hair, "Good to know since as you know I do bite."

That earned a chuckle from Y/n.

Wooyoung stroked his back in soothing circles and Y/n just basked in the comfort of his arms for a while.

Eventually, he pulled back to look at Wooyoung again, "Thank you for putting me out of my misery."

"You make it sound like I killed you."

Y/n just smiled and shyly pressed a kiss to Wooyoung's lips, "Am I allowed to do this now?"

"What, kiss me?"

Y/n nodded.

Wooyoung gave him a soft peck on the lips, "Of course you can. Anytime and anywhere you want. You don't need to ask, jagiya."

Y/n's cheeks flushed at the term of endearment that so casually rolled off Wooyoung's tongue and Wooyoung gave him a cheeky grin.

"Awww, why are you blushing now, cutie? Do you like it when I call you jagiya?"

Y/n just stared at him with flushed cheeks and Wooyoung kissed him again, "You're so adorable."

Wooyoung reached around Y/n to pick his bag up and slung it over his shoulder. He took Y/n's hand and slotted his fingers between his.

He kissed Y/n's cheek, "Come home with me, jagiya. We can order in and watch that new movie you were telling me about yesterday.”

Y/n finally smiled- he was so relieved. He squeezed Wooyoung's fingers, "Okay, but you need to shower first."

Wooyoung smirked, "Will you be joining me?"

Y/n's heart jolted and his blush returned. He slapped Wooyoung's arm, "In your dreams!"

Wooyoung threw his head back and laughed. Y/n rolled his eyes and tugged Wooyoung toward the exit.

Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows at him, "You're eager, aren't you? Are you sure you're not planning on taking me up on my offer?"

Two could play at this game, "Maybe if you're a good boy tonight."

Wooyoung raised his eyebrows and smirked, "Promise?"

Y/n had no comeback so he just ignored Wooyoung who started laughing again. Y/n smiled to himself; it felt good to have things clarified and back to normal.

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