#wooyoung tickle

[someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae]

Wooyoung

Okay so this is the 3rd of the series.

Allready done are:

Hongjoong

Seonghwa

Our Wooyoungie was bored… And when Wooyoung was bored he was always up to something… He always had a suspicious mission what often included at least one of his members as victim of his boredom. Or better his ideas that formed out of his boredom. This time it was you. He had decided to find out if you were ticklish.

He had analyzed some of your actions and even though you had always said you weren’t ticklish but he had noticed some suspicious behaviors of you. You for example always smiled when the members tickled each other. Then you always blush and hide your face with your hands. Or when someone accidentally touched your side or just had the hand near your side you flinched. And then blushed bcz nobody had ever done something to you. (You know what I mean right?)

And well, he suddenly wondered about this. Anddd the last reason why you’d be the best victim for now was that all of the members who were home would get his back 10 times worse. And Wooyoung didn’t feel like you’d get him back, you rarely poke the members.

So Hongjoong and Yeosang were in the gym. Seonghwa and San were chilling in Seonghwa’s room, doing whatever. And Mingi and Yunho were playing games together. Jongho was sitting on the sofa, watching a random reality TV show while you were dozing on the sofa, your head next to Jongho’s lap. You wore a cozy, oversized t-shirt and some comfy shorts.

So Wooyoung stuck his head out of the door and spotted you there, peacefully sleeping next to his band member. He sneaked out of his room and went to Seonghwa to ask him for a feather. (Yes I know.) Seonghwa was a bit curious but he gave his friend a big, fluffy feather.

And Woo took it happily and went to you. Jongho saw him and the smart Jongho knew what was coming. He just smirked and looked back at the TV screen. And Wooyoung started his mission. He sat down at your thighs, bcz you were sleeping on your back, and lifted your shirt a tiny bit up. You didn’t mind because … you were way too sleepy.

Well, because you didn’t open your eyes you didn’t see the way too fluffy feather he had. What he placed now on your exposed skin. And he traced a little line on your exposed skin with it. You softly giggles because of that in your sleep. Wooyoung and Jongho looked at each other and smirked. They both knew that you had been lying when you said you weren’t ticklish.

After the boy knew what he wanted to know, he placed the feather on your neck and stroke your neck and ears with it. You scrunched your neck up, still to sleepy to even open your eyes. He continued and you softly giggled. “Stoooop” you said and opened your eyes.

He smiled evilly. “I thought you weren’t ticklish?” he asked innocent. “I am not” you simply said. “But why’d you flinch then…?” Jongho asked. “Because I thought it was a bug you heroes. Or a spider. I hate insects and spiders. You know that by the way. I even have a spider phobic.” You raised an eyebrow, trying your best not to blush or smile. “Oh- You have a spider phobic?” Wooyoung asked. “Yeah... I just said that.”

Wooyoung looked at Jongho in a meaningful way. But you didn’t know what that look meant. Until... Jongho took your wrists and held them over your head in his lap. You tried to escape him but our maknae is strong boi (:D).

“Wa- Wait what are you up to…?” you asked whit a bit of fear appearing in your voice. You didn’t want them to know you’re ticklish because you have seen all the eight guys wrecking each other multiple times and you did not not wanted to be one of their victims the next times.

And you knew, if Wooyoung once finds out, he was SO gonna tell everyone.

But Wooyoung wanted to have fun first. “Aww you poor thing.” He said, acting sad. “Now a spider is gonna explore your tummy.” The young lad said, looking completely serious. Jongho too. The maknae found it really hilarious how you started to wiggle under them, how you tried to escape the two youngest.

As you saw that it made no sense to try to fight back Wooyoung and Jongho, you started begging. “Nononononono please Wooyoung don´t” you said but it was too late :D

Wooyoungie lifted your shirt up more and spidered then over your exposed tummy. You immediately exploded in giggles. “Ahahahaha Wohohohoyoung nahaha” you giggled.

“Aww what’s so funny? I thought you weren’t ticklish?” he teased, a soft smile on his lips. “I ahaham” you giggled and his smile grew. “Surpriseee~” he teased. He stopped and you blushed hardly. But he only stopped to take the feather again.

He swirled it over your tummy and sides. You softly giggled your heart out by this. “Aww and HOW ticklish you are” he said, looking at you in awe. You blushed hardly by this, making him giggle with you. “Ahahahawww” he giggled down at you. Even Jongho giggled along with you.

Your ler now dug the fluffy, ticklish feather in your bellybutton. Your sweet giggles went one octave higher, what made Wooyoung want to hear your real laugher. He formed his free hand to a claw and clawed with it over your bare side. You now squirmed harder, laughing with full belly laugher now.

But he just got bored by staying at the same spot so he swirled the feather over your ribs now. And Wooyoung adored your reaction to this move. You squealed and your laugh became high pitched as he also clawed over your bare tummy and ribs too. This nearly made you scream. And Jongho found this really hilarious. “Wow- Not even Yeosang is that ticklish … Or feather ticklish.” He teased, causing you to blush. “Shut uhuhup” you said in your laugher. “HEY! Poor Jongho.” Wooyoung pouted and Jongho chuckled.

Wooyoung stopped and turned himself around, sitting on your hips now, his back facing you. He put the feather on your inner thighs, swirling it around there. Then he used his free hand to scribble over your inner thighs too, causing you to scream again. After that really high pitched scream, you lost yourself in laugher and giggles.

But before you died from laugher, he stopped and just swirled the feather under your knees, so you could relax and just giggle softly. As your face had a natural color again, he sat on your ankles.

“Ohhh nononononononono Wooyoung no please don’t – NOOahahahahha”

The young lad had just begun to trace lines over your feet with the feather. But it has already caused you to giggle like a madman. “Oh that must be worse than everything~” Jongho teased but couldn’t help o laugh too because he found it just too cute.  >.<

Wooyoung, on your ankles, changed his tactic and was now scribbling and clawing over your exposed soles. And poor you just went insane by this. You let out the highest pitched scream ever and laugh- screamed because he hit a very sensitive spot. That made Wooyoung laugh about you and Jongho let go of your wrists with one hand and give your tummy a cute tickle. Really. The boy torturing your poor feet was laughing his ass of bcz he found you so hilarious (-.-)

And Jongho, who easily could hold your wrists above your head with one hand,, thought it was important to now claw with his free hand over your still bare tummy. That really made you go crazy. You screamed one last time, then you completely went silent, shaking your head. Your cheeks were wet from the tears and your face red.

They continued for like two minutes, but then they stopped. They didn’t want to murder you…

Jongho set your wrists free and Wooyoung pulled you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you. He rubbed over your feet to get you rid of ghost tickles and you put on your socks again. Jongho sat over next to Wooyoung and you three ended up with Jongho and Wooyoung sitting next to each other on the sofa, you laying across their laps.

“Hey- You know what?” Jongho suddenly said. His Hyung and you looked at him confused. “The others should know too!” The maknae said. “Should know what?” Wooyoung and You asked at the same time. After you both had laughed over this, he replied with “That you’re ticklish, what else?”

“I don’t think so.” You simply said, while Woo was getting excited. “I think it’s a great idea!” he smiled happily. “No… No really-“you said but they didn’t mind. They both just looked at each other and then back at you. “If you’re not gonna shout that you’re ticklish now, we’re gonna wreck you again” Jongho said. And he looked way too serious. And you didn’t even imagine that they would not do it. Plus you didn’t want to get wrecked again. One time is enough for now. So you just-

“I AM TICKLISH”. Yes. You did it. You shouted it. “Aigoo really-“ you whispered to the boys you were siting with and blushed. Those two guys just chuckled and Jongho really said “even more than Yeosang” You glared at him, what made the brightest smile appear on his pretty face.

“EVEN MORE THAN YEOSANG” you shouted and blushed again. “I KNOW!! WE HEARD IT GURL” San shouted back. Your eyes widened and you fell back on the couch, your hands covering your red face. “HEYY” Yeosang shouted back and you the flinched because you didn’t hear him and Hongjoong come back from the gym. Last one just said “good to know~”, entering the room. “CUTEE” Seonghwa shouted and you could hear San laugh about this. “Oh gosh” you whispered.

“WHO FORCED YOU TO SAY THIS?” Yunho shouted out of his room. Mingi was just heard as a laughing guy because he found this scene so funny. “Wooyoung and Jongho” you answered his and you heard a triumph shouting from Mingi. ‘Did they just guess?’ you thought. Yeosang entered the room too. “How dare you to say that >:[“ he pouted. “It’s true!” Woo said. “But- I’m not that ticklish!” Yeo complained. “You are~” everyone but you said. He blushed and went into his room, having a cute, lil pout on his lips.

“Aww poor Y/n, your life is gonna be hard, now that everyone knows.” The smoll leader teased and sat down next to Wooyoung. “Just ask Yeo” Wooyoungie said and hey all smirked. “Enouuuuugh” you whined and stood up. “I’m going now” you pouted too and left the room to go to Yeosang, because he at least understood you. The three boys behind you just laughed. They all found it hilarious. (-.-)

Well, in the end, even Yeosang wanted to try out if you were really that bad… And he did-

End

[melaniekhu122811]

Your smile

Lers:Wooyoung and San

Lee:Yeosang

….…………………………………………………………

Recently, Wooyoung and San have noticed that Yeosang hasn’t been smiling as much. And as members of Ateez, they need to fix that.

………………………………………………………………

Wooyoung and San had noticed something was wrong with their resident sunshine. Now, Yeosang didn’t smile much, and really only smiled if he had a reason to. But Wooyoung and San had noticed he wasn’t smiling as..much. And that needed to change.

And what better way than to tickle him? It was the first thing they thought of and the easiest way, and it wasn’t like Yeosang wasn’t ticklish. So, tickling it was. But…where was Yeosang?

The two had searched the house and had finally found Yeosang sitting on the couch of the living room, with a neutral face, scrolling through the TV, as if trying to find something to watch.

“Hey Sangie, whatcha doing?”

“Huh? Nothing much. Just trying to find something to watch.”

“On….Disney+? Sangie, we don’t even have a account on Disney+.”

“Oh. I’ll just go on Netflix then.”

“Hey, Sangie, you know what’s more fun then watching some Netflix?”

“Oh? What’s that Wooyoung?”

“What are you guys talking about?”

“I’m talking about..this.”

And without any warning Wooyoung tackled Yeosang, wrestling with him until Wooyoung came out victorious, sitting on Yeosangs hips, as San easily lifted up and restrained Yeosangs arms.

“H-Hey guys..? What’s-“

“Well, recently we’ve noticed that your smile hasn’t actually been..showing up as much. And we think that needs to change.”

“Wait- it doesn’t have to be like this-“

“Sorry, but it does.”

And without any warning, Wooyoung dug into Yeosangs sides, making Yeosang cackle, and squirm as he tugged on his restrained arms.

“WAhaIT! Stohop!”

“There’s that smile that we love!”

“Guhuys! Pleahease stohohop!”

“Why? We’ve just started, we can’t stop now!”

“Wait-stop stop- WAHAHAHAIT!!!”

Without any other warnings, Wooyoung being the menace he was dug into Yeosangs underarms, making Yeosang screech, before pouring out cackles as he threw his head back, tears of mirth starting to form in his eyes.

“STOHOP PLEAHEASE!!! IHITS TOHO MUHUCH!!”

“Aww, you can’t take it?”

Gosh, if Yeosang could he would strangle San.

“STOHOP TEAHEASING MEHE!!!”

But oh, Wooyoung wasn’t near done. Wooyoung was the most aggressive ler in the group ateez, and as a ler he needed his lees laugh to go silent for at least a few seconds before he was satisfied. And it wasn’t like Yeosang minded.

Wooyoungs hand left Yeosangs underarms, and started to softly scribble over Yeosangs tummy, leaving Yeosang giggling as he tugs on his arm, not being able to make much of an effort as most of the strength in his body had already left.

“Pleahease! Stohop! I cahan’t anymohore!”

“Alright, alright just one more thing.”

And without any warning, Wooyoung lifted up Yeosangs shirt and started to blow raspberries and scribble and dig into Yeosangs ribs, making Yeosang start to scream, and throw his head around as he poured cackles out of his mouth, as tears of mirth finally started to roll down Yeosangs cheek and neck.

“NOHOHO PLEAHEAHEASE!!!! IHI CANHANT AHNYMOHORE-“

And not even a few seconds after his attack, Yeosangs laugh went completely silent. He couldn’t even laugh, or beg anymore.

Taking one look at Yeosang San had seen that Yeosang had either reached or was reaching his limit. His face was as red as a tomato as his mouth was agape in a silent scream as he mouthed the words please, no more, and tears of mirth rolled down his face.

“Okay, okay Wooyoung. Let’s stop for more. I think we’ve seen enough of his smile for now.”

And hearing this, Wooyoung stopped his raspberries and stopped his scribbling and climbed off of Yeosangs hip, as San released his arms.

Once Yeosang was given freedom, he immediately went to scratch at his stomach, trying to get rid of the tickles, as San scooped Yeosang into his lap and rubbed his back as Wooyoung watched them both with adoring eyes.

“Sorry, did we go to far?”

“Noho, it’s fihine. I would’ve told yohou.”

And in the end, both sides were satisfied. Wooyoung and San both got their smiles, and Yeosang might’ve got the tickles he might have wanted. Who knows? Maybe this was his way of secretly asking for tickles.

………………………………………………………………

Here’s my second fic! Once again, I’m sorry if this fic is to short or doesn’t meet up to your expectations. But anyway, hope you liked my second fic, and I apologize for any spelling mistakes.

[j-a-nuary]

Wooyoung vocals always so 🫠🫠🫠

[saturnzskyzz]

Maknae's smile

Lee: Jongho

Lers: Yunho, San, Wooyoung, and Yoesang

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This is a drabble because I've literally seen no fanfics of lee Jongho, and that's going to change ᴛ ᴏ ᴅ ᴀ ʏ :)

(I'm still working on requests. Two are scheduled right now, but I won't reveal the date until it gets closer to mid January ^^)

Enjoy!

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"Who is the Maknae of the group?" Hongjoong read out loud for the rest of Ateez to hear.

In unison, they all pointed to Jongho, who was sitting in the back middle of everyone. Jongho brought up both of his hands to showcase his face, and put on a fake smile for the camera.

Ateez were at an interview where they were given' a board with a set of questions. Each question had strips covering them, so Hongjoong-the leader-was peeling them off one by one, to answer with his fellow members in a professional manner.

Yunho, however, saw Jongho's fake smile, and-the michivieous ace he was, and fortunately enough for him, was sat next to Jongho-gave a few pokes to Jongho's side, causing him to squeak and defend himself from the ongoing attack; which left the other members: Yoesang, San, and Wooyoung, to join in since they were close to Jongho as well.

"Guhuhuys! - we're ihin the middle ohohof an intervihihiew!" Jongho said, curling in on himself.

"We'll give you guys a break, I'm sure you guys do this quite often, ya?" The interviewer asked with a smile.

"Yehes, quite frequently. Sorry about that." Hongjoong said, Apologeticly.

"Ihit's no worries." Said the interviewer, who then got up to get a few waters for themself, and for the members. They could tell that Jongho would really need it after his members onslaught was finished.

"Mehehercy! Plehehease! Ihihit's tohooho muhuhuch!" Jongho said in defeat. He was starting to loose balance on his chair.

"Okay guys, let's stop. We have an interview that we need to finish." Hongjoong said with a warning.

The members thankfully stopped, much to their dismay, but Jongho was nonetheless thankful for his hyung's save.

And with that, the interview went on.

[jakelocket-heart]

[bigdumbtickler03]

Look at Wooyoung tickling Hongjoong’s ears and neck 🥺

[someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae]

Oh my god

This got me scream

Quarantine's Not That Bad - ATEEZ

A tickle fic? On this Tumblr? What has the world come to??!!

They were on the move.

Prowling around the dorm, waiting for an unsuspecting lee to make a wrong move.

It had been a while since the lers had joined forces like this, intending to wreck every lee in sight. Their world tour had definitely thrown a spanner into the works too.

But quarantine was good for one thing, when 4 lers lived with 4 lees (well, 3 lees and a switch, who leant towards a lee anyway).

Seonghwa was laid on his bed in his room when the first unfortunate soul walked in. Poor little Hongjoong walked in, intending on changing his clothes, but was quickly followed by Jongho, who shut the door quietly behind him. As the small leader took off his t-shirt, ditching it on the floor, the eldest and youngest made eye contact, a quick nod being shared between them.

Jongho moved first, grabbing the shorter man by the legs and slinging him over his shoulder. Hongjoong cried out in shock, gripping Jongho's waist with his arms as he was faced with the younger's muscled back.

"Jongho, why on-- oh NOHOHOHO!"

Hongjoong tried his best to kick, but Jongho holding his shins made it impossible to. Seonghwa's fingers, in the meantime, danced skillfully on the younger's socked feet, tickling dreadfully. Small fists pounded on the maknae's back, as Hongjoong's face screwed up in laughter, belly laughter erupting from his mouth.

"Seonghwahahahahaha!! Stohohohop!! NO!" The leader shrieked as he felt the elders wiggling fingers slip under the top of his socks, pulling them off while tickling down his feet. Seonghwa couldn't hold back his own grin, chuckling back, "Not on your life."

The elders fingernails scratched lightly down the platinum blond's sole, particularly focusing on the little gaps between his toes. Hongjoong couldn't help but scream with laughter, still raining punches on Jongho's back as he tried desperately to escape. Jongho held strong though, laughing at how weak his hyung had become due to the tickling. Seonghwa grinned, slowing down. "Ok I'm bored of the feet now."

"No, Seonghwa don't! I swear to god! No no no no NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!" Hongjoong flailed desperately when Seonghwa's fingers made contact with the hollows of his armpits, practically screaming with laughter. Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh as his fingers fled all over the younger's torso, tickling everywhere from Hongjoong's armpits to his back, to his stomach and ribs. He even managed to sneak a raspberry on the leaders neck, resulting in a hilarious shriek tearing from his lips. Jongho himself joined in, wiggling devilish fingers all along the leaders thighs and knees. By the time they were done, Hongjoong was red in the face, tears welling in his eyes.

"Stohohohop!!! Stop, stop, plehease!! Need- ahahaha- I need a break!" The lers laughed, stopping their assault while Jongho ditched the still giggling leader onto his bed. The shorter immediately curled into foetal position, unable to remove the smile from his face. Seonghwa grinned, grabbing a soft blue shirt and throwing it onto him. He pinched the exposed side, laughing at the yell he received.

"Put that on before I attack you again."

On the other side of the dorm, Yunho and Mingi were chatting in the kitchen when an unsuspecting Yeosang came in for a glass of water. It was obvious that he'd just been practicing dancing in his room, as there was a light sweat on his brow and he was panting. One glance at each other and the two tallest knew what to do.

As the shorter reached up to grab a glass, Mingi poked him in the armpit, causing the arm to slam to his side. Yeosang glared at him, causing the taller to chuckle. He tried to reach up with the other hand, only to find Yunho had slipped to that side and repeated the same action. Yeosang huffed, reaching up once again only to be stopped once more.

"What's wrong Sangie?" Yunho asked, as Yeosang glared at the duo, "Can't you reach it?"

"Maybe try again," Mingi stated, massive grin on his face, "you can't be that short."

"Why don't you try not being a prick," the shorter grumbled, once again attempting to reach for a glass only to be poked.

Mingi gasped dramatically, "I am OFFENDED!" Tackling Yeosang to the ground, he sat on his wrists. Yunho watched in amusement as Yeosang struggled, while Mingi required little to no effort to keep him down. "Wanna apologise?"

"Sod off," Yeosang replied, still struggling, "Let me get a drink!"

"So rude!" Mingi exclaimed, "I'm hurt!" He lightly started drumming his fingers on Yeosang's ribs, watching as the elder tried to hide his developing smile. "We should punish him Yunho!"

"How?" Yunho asked, feigning innocence to Mingi's plan.

"Liiiiiiiiiiiiike this!" As Mingi's fingers started drilling mercilessly into Yeosang's sides, the shorter male bucked up, instantly dissolving into belly laughter.

"Nonononono Mingi!! Fuhuhuhuck!!"

"Is that a swear word??" Yunho exclaimed. "Oh you're in for it now mister."

Yunho's long fingers made quick work of the younger's socks, and as he grabbed the boys slender ankles he could hear pleading. Smiling brightly, he started gently stroking a single finger down Yeosang's left arch, listening as the laughter went higher in pitch. As soon as 5 fingers hit the boy's soles, he screamed, laughter raising in pitch and volume as he defiantly tried to pull his feet from Yunho's grasp.

One glance at Mingi proved that he was going all out, one hand spidering in Yeosang's right armpit while the other hand flitted around, attacking his stomach and ribs and hips and neck with no discernible pattern. Yeosang's face was red with a heavy blush, eyes screwed shut. Yunho grinned, laying on the younger's legs so his chin rested on his stomach.

He left his fingers pattering softly on his thighs, not enough to tickle but enough to irritate, and as Mingi also stopped, hands rubbing at Yeosang's biceps, Yeosang finally opened his eyes, which flickered around before landing on Yunho.

"Hi!" Yunho grinned, nuzzling his chin into the smallest stomach.

"No!" Yeosang instantly said, "No no no, do not!"

As the tallers lips moved closer to his destination, Yeosang get desperate, crying out "I'll buy you food!"

Yunho instantly looked up, making eye contact with Mingi.

"Tempting." Said the rapper, before nodding at Yunho.

The man's face went straight to his target, blowing a raspberry on the younger's bellybutton, revelling in the laughter that erupted from his mouth.

"Think we'd rather hear you laugh though."

After five minutes on non-stop raspberries, Yunho heard Yeosang's breathing get laboured, so he decided to call it off. Sitting on his knees, he chuckled as Yeosang threw a hand over his eyes, smile remaining fixed in place. Mingi stood up, filling a glass with cold water and placing it next to him.

"Enjoy!"

"Asshole."

After lunch had happened, the lers messaged each other.

Seonghwa: Ok Jongho and I got Joong

Mingles: Yunho and I managed to get Sangie

Jonghooooo: so that just leaves woosan

Yunhooooo: ok, Seonghwa and I will hit San because Mingi will need you for Woo Jjong

Jonghooooo: I'll remember my ear plugs

Well, Mingi and Jongho decided to hang out together for the rest of the afternoon, waiting for the chance to attack Wooyoung. After 30 minutes, they weren't sure where he was, but Jongho managed to catch him in the corner of his eye, walking out of the bathroom in a towel. Clearly he had been in the shower, and as he disappeared into his and Yeosang's shared room, the duo stood up and snuck in behind him.

Wooyoung was blissfully unaware of their presence, as he pulled on a pair of briefs and loose cotton shorts. He was about to pick out a shirt when he caught sight of Mingi and Jongho in the mirror, and he yelled in shock, pressing a hand to his heart.

"Good god, you scared me to death!"

Jongho grinned, "sorry hyung, didn't mean to!"

"Then what did you mean to do?" Wooyoung pouted, returning to his search for a t-shirt.

The maknae ran and tackled him to the floor, gripping his wrists tightly.

"This!"

"Wha- Oh nohohoho Mingi! Leave me be!!!"

"Sorry, no can do!" The taller grinned, wiggling his fingers teasingly above the smallers stomach. "We've nearly hit everyone today, would hate to break that streak!"

Wooyoung shrieked when Mingi's fingers made contact with his stomach, loud hyena laughter bouncing off the walls. He bucked and kicked his legs, trying to get away from the sensation, but Jongho had a tight grip on his wrists.

"THIS ISN'T FAHAHAHAHAHAHAIR!!!"

"LIFE ISN'T FAIR HYUNG, GET USED TO IT!" Jongho had to yell to be heard over the younger's hysterical laughter, but grinned wildly at Mingi, who was enjoying wrecking havoc on his dongsaengs body.

When Mingi's hands slowed, slowly crawling from his hipbones upwards, Wooyoung's giggles quietened, and he looked at Mingi with pleading eyes.

"Please don't," he begged, lightly kicking his legs, "pleaseee!"

Mingi was deaf to his pleading, and ten fingers soon found themselves in the younger's armpits. A high pitched squeal left his mouth, causing Jongho to cringe.

"Jesus, that was loud!"

"WEHEHELL, ITS YOHOHOUR DAHAMN FAHAHAHAULT! STOOOOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOP!"

"Nah," Mingi replied casually, moving down to tweak at his ribs again. Wooyoung would yell whenever Mingi's hands found their way back to his armpits, and after around 10 more minutes he stopped, letting Wooyoung take a breather.

As Wooyoung gulped in air, chest heaving, Mingi wriggled down his body, til he was sat on the younger's knees. By the time Wooyoung realised what he was doing, he was immobile from the waist down.

"No," he whined, "Mingi stop! Haven't you had enough??"

"Don't even try and tell me you don't enjoy this," Mingi chuckled, laughing even harder at the flush that appeared on the younger's face as he tried to deny it. "And you especially like ittttttt here!!"

Mingi's fingers started to attack the inside of Wooyoung's thighs, which immediately tensed and trembled, unable to escape. Wooyoung was shrieking, bouncing as much as he could when he was restrained from both ends. His feet drummed on the floor, and he couldn't even get any words out, just shrieking with laughter like a maniac. Jongho, starting to get bored, also started to spider his fingers along Wooyoung's tummy, revelling in pinching the slight pudge that he had. Tickling a pudgy tummy when you're in an idol group is hard, because most of them have abs, so it was rare to pass up an opportunity to tickle Wooyoung's adorable soft belly. Wooyoung's eyes started tearing up, and he shook his head from side to side, pleading when he could, although they barely sounded like words. When Jongho and Mingi finally let up, he just wheezed on the floor for a solid minute, absolutely exhausted. Jongho and Mingi sat either end of him, smiling fondly. Mingi laughed out loud when Wooyoung just fell asleep, and Jongho grinned, picking up the smaller effortlessly and dropping him on the bed.

"We didn't even get his feet, Jjong!"

Seonghwa and Yunho took a more... direct approach at finding their prey. They scoped out the entire dorm, eventually finding him in the computer room, playing a game online with his friends. They hid behind the oblivious younger, who was too busy chatting.

"Changbin, he's behind you! Get him, get him!! Oh god I'm out of bullets no no no!! Yeonjun, can you drop some for me?"

They could hear vague responses through the youngers headset, and were aching to attack, but they weren't that mean. After roughly ten minutes, the winning screen popped up, and San jumped about in his seat from excitement.

"Yes! We did i-AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!"

Yunho and Seonghwa had leapt into action, dragging him off the chair and leaving the headset nearby, so his friends would know he wasn't being murdered.

"Hyung, why did you do that?" San pouted, rubbing at his rear where he landed. Without responding, Seonghwa pounced on the youngers wrists, pinning them under his knees.

"Hyung what's happening?" The slender male asked, highly confused at the situation.

However when Yunho started moving towards his hips, his eyes went big, and he started struggling ten fold.

"No no no hyung pleaseeeeeeee don't!"

"Sorry baby, everyone else has been hit though!"

Nervous giggles left San's mouth as Yunhos fingers descended, never making contact but the teasing being unbearable. Huge squeaky laughter erupted when the fingers met his stomach, making both the elders smile due to its infectious nature.

"Awww see you've got a shirt on. That's not fair!" Yunho whined, causing San to retort, "it's plenty fair- AAAA NOHOHOHOHO!" Yunho managed to slip his fingers under the loose grey shirt, spidering his way across the youngers tummy. He pushed it up so the flat expanse of skin was easily available.

"As much as I love Yeosang, you have better reactions to this."

San couldn't ask what due to his panting, but Yunho blowing a raspberry directly on his navel was answer enough.

"OH GOHOHOHOHOHOD! YUNHOOOOOOOOOOOO!" He squealed, bucking up and trying to escape.

"Don't try to escape!" Seonghwa laughed, pulling him up by his wrists and placing them behind the elders head. Before San could move his arms down, Seonghwa quickly attacked his armpits, causing San to squeak and pull his arms down, attempting to curl up despite Yunho still blowing raspberries all over his abdomen.

"See, now I'm stuck!" Seonghwa laughed, wriggling his fingers. San shrieked, the combined sensations wrecking havoc on his body. Laughter could be heard from the headset abandoned on the floor, and San flushed even more, struggle to escape renewed. "Come on, lift up your arms! Let me out!"

"I cahahahahan't!" San giggled as Yunho stopped blowing raspberries, instead nibbling ticklishly at his prominent ribs. "Stohohohohohop!"

"Tell you what," Seonghwa bargained, "When I can pull my hands out we'll stop ok? That's all you gotta do."

"Nohohohot fahahahahair!"

"I think it's plenty fair," Yunho grinned, swirling a finger around San's tummy. "Go on Sannie!"

San tried to lift up his arms, clearly struggling but determined to do it. By the time he got halfway, Yunho blew another raspberry on his bellybutton, causing them to fly straight back down.

"NOHOHOHOHOHO YUNHO!!"

"Sorry, sorry Sannie!" He chuckled, returning his fingers to his side. He mischievously glanced at Seonghwa, "Why not try again?"

It took 8 tries for San to finally get his arms up, and true to his word Seonghwa pulled his hands out. San collapsed against Seonghwas shoulder, panting heavily.

"You good?" The eldest chuckled, wrapping his hands around his waist and lightly rubbing his tummy, like the younger enjoyed.

San huffed, grumbling out "sleepy" in a quiet voice.

Yunho chuckled, telling Seonghwa to put him to bed as he logged off the game. San's friends were laughing through the headphones as he explained why they were logging off, amused at the goings on in the dorm.

"Do you guys ever leave them alone?" Changbin teased, "That's the 8th time in two weeks!"

Yunho laughed back, saying, "What else are we supposed to do in quarantine?"

"God you guys are evil," Yeonjun chuckled, "Can't believe you tickled him so much he got sleepy."

"Ok maybe we're a little bit evil." Yunho laughed, ending the call.

Yunhooooo: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

[h4untedgrl]

All mine | j.wy

-☆ genre/au: boyfriend!woo x girlfriend!reader, possessive!woo

-☆ warnings: hickeys/markings, possessiveness, mentions of partying and alcohol

Wooyoung always described you as a devil in disguise. Everything you did drove him nuts. You even drove other men mad, and that made him sick to his stomach.

He’d do anything to show the you’re only his.

You and Wooyoung were always party people, something about liquor flowing and the music blasting did it for you guys. It was always about the thrill. This was just a regular night to you, or so you thought.

"I don't like how he's looking at you" Wooyoung spoke your ear, just loud enough so you could hear him over the music. You tilt your head, confused before responding "Babe please, just ignore him" His jaw clenched as he stares the random guy down.

Wooyoung's grip around your waist tightened as he pulled you in front of him. His left hand moving up to move your hair to expose your neck. You feel his warm breath tickle you, a smile spreads against your lips. "Fuck, your smell is so addicting" Goosebumps raise against your skin.

You loved when Wooyoung got possessive over you, it's what made your relationship so exciting. He started to pepper small kisses along your neck, "Wanna show him you're all mine." You bite your bottom lip at his words, your panties instantly getting wet. "So show him" You bite back at him.

Sinful thoughts flood his head, he would bend you over right here right now if he could. Instead he nips at jugular, you jump slightly at his actions. This lasts for another ten seconds before he releases just to then latch his lips back onto the same spot. You tilt your head to the left, giving him more access to your sweet spot.

The way he suckled on you thirstily sent you into a frenzy, causing you to bring up your right hand to hold onto his jaw. Wooyoung moving his mouth to another part of your neck leaving purple love bites. You try holding in your lewd moans, but he just kept going. Leaving your eager for more.

You turn around to face him, "Let's go home baby, wan' you so bad" Your eyes pleading. A smirk appears on his face before letting out a chuckle

"That's what I thought."

-☆ taglist: @vampzity @scarfac3 @dvrktvnnel @dollywoo @planetjaeyun @yyaurii @cypher-03 @desirehorizon @atinytrashcan @hyunniesgh0st

[jjunberry]

ateez! when you don’t say i love back

pairing! ateez x reader

genre! fluff, humor

synopsis! you tease your boyfriend by not saying i love you back

wc! 700

hongjoong! didn’t notice at first. he says it quite often so maybe you just didn’t hear him? overthinks it. had he done something to upset you? goes out of his way to add i love you any chance he gets. you find it funny. however after the third sigh and his pout somehow getting bigger you cave. you get up from your spot on the couch and kiss his cheek. “i love you.” you said. hongjoong could have screamed. your giggle gave you away. he chased you down and attacked you in kisses, being sure to say i love you after each one. you of course said it back.

seonghwa! literally heartbroken. “i love you.” he said kissing your cheek. “i’ll call you later.” you left the apartment. seonghwa stood there dumbfounded. he didn’t remember upsetting you, or forgetting anything. opens the door with his shoes half on and his jacket hanging on one shoulder. you’re standing there giggling then he gets it. “baby why.” he whined. you kissed him softly. “you’re so cute, i love you.” he grinned finally hearing you say it.

yunho! stares at you blankly. no way did you just kiss his cheek and leave and not say it back. starts going through the day trying to figure out what he did to upset you. was it because he ate the last bag of chips? you said it was okay. his mind is running a mile a minute. once you come back and see his pout you lean up and kiss it away. “love you.” he sighed in relief before pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

yeosang! looks at you with raised eyebrows. “you forgetting something?” he asked. you shook your head. “no i don’t think so.” you chuckled. he sighed. “i love you, now say it back or no cuddles tonight.” he smirked. you grumbled. “you’re no fun but i love you too.” you said. yeosang smiled and and kissed your cheek.

san! is to stunned to speak. there is no way. the boy follows you around the house saying it until you finally cave. “i love you.” follows you to the kitchen. “i love you.” waits outside the bathroom door. “i love you.” sits next to you on the couch. “i love you.” he says for the twentieth time. you groan before caving. “i love you too.” san cheers and kisses you. “see baby that wasn’t so hard.” you just rolled your eyes and smiled.

mingi! looks at you expectantly. you look back at him. “go on.” he makes a microphone with his hand. you just smile and kiss his cheek before trying to walk away. mingi is quick to scoop you up. “i said i love you.” he said into your neck leaving kisses. you giggle as he starts to tickle you. “oh my, stop it stop it, i love you too.” he finally releases you. “don’t ever do that again.” he said. you could only giggle.

wooyoung! throws a fit. no way. it’s mandatory you say it back. “excuse me did you forget something?” he asks. you blink. “i don’t believe so.” you answered. “i don’t believe so,” he mocked before stomping up to you. “i said i love you.” he placed his hands on your shoulders before shaking you back and forth. “i love you.” he said again. you giggled before wrapping him in a hug. “i love you too.” he smirked. “you’re obsessed with me.” you punched his arm. “goodbye.” he chased you as you ran.

jongho! is unbothered. he knows what you’re up too. “goodbye jongho i’ll be back soon.” you kissed his cheek. “bye love you.” he said before returning his attention back to the laptop. you held in your giggles before not answering. jongho didn’t say anything as you left. a few minutes later you stomped back into the apartment with a frown. “baby you didn’t even notice.” you pouted. “i knew what you were doing.” he kissed your cheek. “can’t have any fun.” you grumbled. jongho just laughed at your behavior and failed prank.

-

author’s note! i’ve been listening to a lot of ateez lately and got inspired so i wrote this <33

tag list! @jjunieworld @304files

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry

[someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae]

✧⁠*⁠。a game afternoon with Ateez

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Ateez x Reader

Warnings: None

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You were bored. Very bored. You were sitting in your room, staring at the wall. 'Uhg what should I dooooo' you thought. Then you heard someone shouting something, you didn't understand a whole sentence properly but you heard the word 'fun' and went to the door. "How did I get here? Ahh nevermind" You said and went to the living room where the other eight boys were. Well, you stopped at the door, staring at the things in front of you.

"Woow..." was the only word that left your mouth.The room was full. And not that there were many people, only the eight Ateez members, there were so many activitys. (Sorry I described it but the text got deleted and I'm lazy🫠) And in the middle of all these things there were eight boys with a proud look on their faces. "Y/nahhh look what we didddd" San said. "You did awesome job! Bit why'd you do this?" you asked curiously. "We were bored" Jongho said and smirked.

"Woow... Well, same" you replied and smiled at the boys. "Great!" Yeosang was happy. "Then let's play a gameeuuuu" he said. "What game Sangie?" the captain asked. "Let's play UNO for the start." the pretty boy said. (I'm sorry, they're all prettier than Heaven 🥹🥺) Everybody agreed. You sat between Yeosang and San and you all enjoyed the time together. After like 10 minutes you placed down a +4 card. "YAHHHHH i was going to win!' San gave you an angry but playful glare.

He layed down his one card on the table and reached his arms for you. He wrapped one arm around your upper body, pinning your arms on it and started to poke all over your midsection with his free hand. "AAAAAAHHHahahaha Saniehehhehe nahaahhahaah" you squirmed and tried to escape the cute devil while the other members just laughed at you or blushed. "I'll just make you regret it" San pouted. Then he dig his fingers in your hips and you squirmed and squealed more. "AAAAHAHAHHA noohohoho moohohohore I'm sahhahhaharyyyy pleasehehe" you begged BUT he didn't mind. Just until Wooyoung attacked San himself and squeezed his side to get him let you go. San squealed and fell over in Wooyoungs lap, a giggly mess. *😭*

Wooyoung laughed and slapped his arm, then he pushed San into a sitting position where said boy took his card and then four new cards too. "Green" you said as Wooyoung asked what colour you wish. You put you feet in Yeosangs lap and continued the game. Like other 10 minutes later you had another +4 card. But you wanted to win and it was you second last card. So you put it down, now Yeosang had to take four new cards.

"YAAAAAHHHHH" he also yelled. But his plans were much more evil. He locked your feet with one leg but you didn't mind it. You continued to play when Yeosang suddenly placed a single finger in your sole. You tried to pull your feet back but he locked them. You now tried to comunicate with him but he didn't even look at you. His finger traced a line up and down your sensitive sole and you curled your toes. Then he lighly scribbled on your feet and you were giggling and giggling. And he didn't stop for the rest of the game, only to take a card, and then continued.

And you were a giggly mess the whole game long. And the rest of the game was like 20 minutes bcz you were so many people. (fuck what did I write I'm so flustered rn🫠) At the end of the game Yeosang won. And as he finally, FINALLY stopped, you layed down exhausted. You tried to catch your breath again. But San had enough energy to be pouty that he didn't win and went over to Yeosang to punish him.

Said Guy was standing randomly in the room and San back hugged him. Then he took light kisses on his neck and Yeosang leaned forwards to escape Sans lips. But San also clawed over Yeosangs tummy now and Yeosang laughed as soon as he started. He barely managed to stand, only bcz San was still holding him. He laughed and laughed and only stopped after like 5 minutes of San punishing him. San opened his arms and Yeosang fell on the floor, still giggling.

San smirked and went to Wooyoung while you went to Yeosang to help him stand up. He took your hand and stood up. "Guysss let's play Nintendo nowww" Mingi said. "Yeahhhh" you shouted and Everybody agreed.

You decided to play mario card and choose the Teams. It was You, Wooyoung, San, Yunho and Seonghwa VS. Jongho, Mingi, Yeosang and Hongjoong. Your team chose Wooyoung and Yunho to play vs. Jongho and Hongjoong.

The game was pretty well for your team, Wooyoung and Yunho won. For the second round there were San and Seonghwa vs. Yeosang and Mingi. San and Yeosang won, Mingi and Seonghwa lost.

So it was 3:3. The last round would decide the final winner, so it was you vs. Yeosang.

You tried your best and you were better than Yeosang but suddenly you felt two sneaky hands poking your sides from behind and you lost your focus. You squirmed and tried to focus again but those hands were so ticklish you couldn't stand it.

Only a few meters before the finish line, you were like 10 meters before Yeosang, Someone scribbled your sides up and down under your hoodie and you couldn't stand the ticklish Sensation. You fell back to protect yourself, exploding in giggles. Your avatar immediately stopped and Yeosang took his chance and won. "Nohohohoho stahahahahap he woohohohon" you begged to the unknown ler. He stopped and Jongho pulled you in his lap, rubbing the ghost tickles away.

You playfully poke him in the tummy. "That wasn't neccecary!" You pouted. "It. Was. You. Were. About. To. Win." He smirked and with every word he gave you a poke where ever he could reach. "Yahhhaha" you giggled and stood up to escape the evil maknae.

"Not my fault that Yeosang is that bad at gaming" you smiled innocently. "YAHH" The introverted singer jumped up and ran to chase you. "Ahhhhh" you shrieked and ran through the room to escape the green haired boy.

But - surprise - he was way faster than you and chased you after only like two minutes of you two running through the whole appartment. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and lifted you up as if you were a feather. Then he carried you - you were very squirmy - back to the living room and shook you to the left and right. You giggled nonstop and tried to apologize but he had so much fun, he was just as giggly as you.

"Ahahahah Yeosaaaaaang staaahahahp I'm sahaharyyyyyyyhyhhy" "Nahahha you're NOT!" he said and held you - not shaking anymore - and bite you into the neck. "Aaahahhaahah" you flinched bcz it was surprising ticklish. "What was that~ " he teased. "Are you maybe..." he did it again. "Nohoho Yeosangggg staahahhap I'm really sohohohryyyyy" you begged but he found it funny to nuzzle and bite in your neck before letting you go.

"Ahhhh" you groaned, rubbing your neck. "Okay, now that Sangie is done, what do u want to play next?" Wooyoung asked everyone. "Let's play Twisterrrrr" San said.

"YEEEEHAAAW" Seonghwa shouted. Everyone gave him a very suspicious look ... Expect ... Hongjoong who was giggling his heart out about this DAMN cute reaction. You all fell in his laughter and soon you all had laughed your ass off.

Only Seonghwa pouted a bit. "It wasn't that funny :( " he said. "Ihihihit was" Hongjoong said and lightly poke him into the side to cheer him up. A smile formed on his Hyung's face and the big group moved to the Twister game.

"Okay Teams deciding!" Seonghwa ordered. You decided to go with You, Jongho, Wooyoung, Seonghwa and Hongjoong vs. Mingi, Yeosang, Yunho and San.

The Twister game was extra big since it was designed for 8 people. The first round was You, Seonghwa and Jongho vs. Yunho, Mingi and Yeosang. You all stood around the game plate, getting ready for the first round. Hongjoong turned the wheel for you.

"Y/n left foot Yeosang" You went to the matching side and took your left foot on Yeosangs paper-face.

"Yahh...~" Yeosangie whined.

-15 minutes later-

Struggle. You were struggling to keep your body stretched, not falling down. There only were Yunho, Jongho and you left. Jongho had an easy position, he was just like sitting bcz his feet and hands were on four points next to each other (two in one row, two in the next row) but you and Yunho were struggling bcz you were like standing into each other.

One of your hands was between Yunho's, his leg was next to your head, and your head was under his chest. But your back was exposed, directly peeking out under Yunho's.

San was walking around the tree of you, Hongjoong was still turning the wheel. "Y/n right hand Seonghwa" he said. You searched for a Seonghwa and found one directly under your chest. You lifted your hand and put it on the Seonghwa face under you.

But then you felt a pole in your side and struggled to keep still. But you even managed to keep silent! (Cheers) But you flinched. You looked back and saw San smirking down at you.

'Oh no' you thought but he was yet not doing anything. Yunho now had to move an arm directly next to yours, under your torso.

But THEN San started to claw over your ribs and sides, up and down, over your tummy and hips too. You really tried. (Y'all did you watch the tword moment where Woo tworded Yeosang in the twister game to make him loose? Imagine it like this)

But you failed. "Ahahhaah nhooohohho stoohohohop it's enough pleahahahse" but he showed no mercy AND you were easier to cheat on than Jongho. He was good in revenge. Way too good.

Well, the sunshine reached his goal and you fell down. But what he didn't expect was that you fell on Yunhos arm and took him accidently down with you. So you both fell down, holding each other.

"Noooooo" Mingi, Yeosang and San shouted, while Hongjoong, Jongho, Seonghwa and Wooyoung cheered and partied. "Yassssss well done Y/n!!!" Woo said and took your hand to help you stand up.

As you were on your feet again, you took Yunho's hand to help him. The second round was Hongjoong, Wooyoung and Jongho vs. Mingi, Yeosang and San.

It went good, Yeosang's team won bcz this time Yunho tworded Wooyoung to make him struggle. And it worked ~

At this time it was 8pm. "Y'all should we order some food?" you asked. "Yeah sure! What about Pizza?" Jongho asked. "I lOvE pIzZa!" You shouted and the others too.

Honjoong ordered nine pizzas for you and they said it will be delievered in 30 minutes. The boys looked at each other and went into Seonghwa and Hongjoong's room to talk about something.

"Hey what are you doing now?" you asked curiously. "No- Nothing Sweetheart" Mingi answered and you pouted as they all went in and left you out. You went to the sofa and turned on the TV as you were bored now, and pouty.

You changed the programm to a K-Drama you were currently watching. This calmed you down a bit.

After exactly 30 minutes the door bell rang. You did not react, you were too focused on the drama. You heard Woosan going down to get the pizzas and Seonghwa and Hongjoong came to the sofa, placing themselves on each side of you, Seonghwa on your right, Hongjoong on your left.

"Hey, what are you watching?" the tiny leader asked. "Nothing" you simply responded. You pouted again. "Are you seriously mad at us for leaving you out?" Hwa asked. "Yes" You said.

"Ohhh c'mon we're sorryyyyy" he said, lightly shaking your shoulder. "Nooo" you said.

"Yessss" Hongjoong said and started to squeeze your knee. "Yahaahha noohoo stoohoohooop" you tried not to laugh but you failed (a bit ...?) Seonghwa smirked, checking Hongjoongs plan.

He dug his fingers - out of all sudden - into your hips, making you squirm like a madman. "NAAAAAAHAHA STAAHAHAHAP" you screamed as your worst spot was attacked. "I'M SOOHOHOHORY I ACCEEHEHPT YOUR APOOLGIE AHAAHAHAHA" you screamed and they switched to only light twording, Seonghwa scribbling and clawing over your right ribs, sides and tummy and his bandmate scribbling, spidering and clawing over your left midsection.

They nearly destroyed you with those soft twords and you really enjoyed these. You were so soft for those big babies. "Ahaahhahahaha" you giggled and grabbed a pillow to burry your face in.

They only heard your muffled laugher but they found it adorable.

They tworded you for minutes, until Yeosang came to rescue you. He sat behind his elder Hyung and tworded Hwa back, so he fell behind, being a giggly mess and you were able to escape and tword Hongjoong back.

At least a bit until he ran away and hid under the table. You squeezed his side softly but he jumped back and ran away. Yeosang had stopped to tword his Hyung and said Singer jerked away from him, wiping his tears away. Your heart melted. (fck how can humans be that cute 😭 i always thought babies are cute but i say aww mich more often watching ateez/ kpop in general as watching children🥲😭😭)

But Seonghwa ran after Hongjoong and took him away from the table. He carried his tiny leader in his strong arms and was biting softly into his tummy, what made Joong giggle so much. (why can I imagine this so well😭)

"PIZZA IS HEREEEEEE" Wooyoung and San shouted and everyone went to the table. Woosan put the nine pizzas on it and sat down, just like Yeosang, Yunho, Jongo, Mingi, Hongjoong.

Seonghwa and you looked at each other and rolled your eyes. Then you went in the kitchen and carried pizza cutter, coke bottles and sprite to the table, as well as tissues. After you ate, it was 9:38 pm and you were tired and exhausted by the twording and the games.

So you all together decided to watch a movie together and then go to bed. You didn't matter about what movie you're gonna watch, but Hongjoong was passionate about the last Avengers part so you turned on this one. You all made yourself comfy on the couch and gave everyone crisps and gummies.

You leaned against Mingi, who wrapped an arm around your shoulders and held you. Then he softly moved his fingers up and down your shoulder, but it was so sleepy and comfy and SOFT that it still tickled, but it was bareable and you liked it. And it made you so sleepy...

- Next morning -

It was so comfy. Where ever you were. No, seriously, you didn't know. But you felt something warm on your side. You opened one eye and realized that you were in Mingi's room, cuddling with Mingi himself.

He was still sleeping, but he has wrapped one leg around your's, one arm under your head and the other was laying on your waist. You smiled and hugged him back and closed your eyes again.

Your head was replaying the last evening and you realized that it has been one of the best days of your life. You smiled more and fell back asleep again.

Later you woke up by a weird feeling on your skin. Someone was clawing over your tummy. Your head checked it and you softly exploded in giggles and tried to make those hands go away. You finally opened your eyes and saw Yunho sitting next to you, smiling softly down at you.

Mingi was still hugging you ,but he was awake now, smiling brightly in awe as he found you so cute. "Awwww~ Good morning sweetheartie" he said and Yunho stopped.

"C'mon, breakfast! It's 1pm btw" he laughed and told you two to hurry up. Mingi and you laughed together and went to the others to have your breakfast.

✿End✿

A/n: Okay That's it... I really hope you like it 💕 I was a bit flustered writing it bcz i still feel insecure about it but thank you for reading it 🫶🏻Love uuu~ Baiiii 💛💚💙💜🖤

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

Your fics are really good! Would you mind doing a Lee Wooyoung and Ler Jongho? Maybe Wooyoung trying to annoy everyone and Jongho was the wrong one Idk-

✨

Most Ticklish Member:

𝒍𝒆𝒆: wooyoung

𝒍𝒆𝒓: jungho

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 drabble 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘢 𝘪 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨! 💗🧋

𝕥𝕨: this is short omg sorry i have a BUNCH of other requests too...

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v–143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpages @lajanaa @seungberry-13

"hang out with meee!" wooyoung practically bounced around behind jungo, who sighed and shook his head.

"noo! leave me al-ONE!" the maknae jumped, slapping at the hand that had pressed into his side.

"ooOH! you're ticklish!" wooyoung teased, watching jungho's face turn red.

"really?" the younger started, pushing wooyoung into the couch, straddling his waist and pinning his arms above his head. "I'M ticklish? what about you, hyung?"

wooyoung's mouth opened and closed, eyes widened and frantic as he shook his head.

"didn't you want me to hang out with you? why are you scared now, hyung?" jungho teased, shrugging before sticking his arms into wooyoung's sides, watching the boy shake before bursting into loud laughter.

"wow. they don't call you the most ticklish member for nothing! you're so sensitive!~" the youngest commented, only succeeding in flustering the boy beneath him.

"noohohoho! juhuhungho STOP!" wooyoung screeched, bucking up when jungho's hands pressed into his ribs.

let's say jungho got to hang out with his hyung after all...

i hope you enjoyed! please check my intro post before interacting! love ya! 💕💗💖

[someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae]

(┬┬﹏┬┬)

It's raining feathers!~

There's no specific lee/ler in this fic because everyone gets tickled at some point uwu.

Requested by a friend~ I hope you like it!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

۵

It was a quiet morning, nothing interesting was happening. In the kitchen, the members of Ateez were sat quietly either eating or tapping away at their phones. 'how boring' Mingi thought, looking around at his members. San and Wooyoung had earphones plugged in, intensively watching a video of some sort. Jongho was by the counter, trying to pick out something to eat, the two eldest members were chatting quietly so they didn't disturb the others. The only two people who were unoccupied was Yunho and Yeosang.

Perfect.

Mingi looked at Yunho for a while, brainstorming what he could do. He decided that he'd pull some kind of.. tickly prank. When Yunho catches his gaze and his face of concentration he grins, mouthing a 'what's on your mind?' to the younger male. Mingi gives him a look before moving hastily yet carefully over to wear both Yunho and Yeosang were sitting. He leaned over to whisper to Yunho softly. The elder member smiled and nodded his head. In the set of drawers next to him there was a whole bunch of tools used in the dorm for tickly torture.

Yunho smiled deviously, looking through the drawer. He noticed that in this particular hiding place for tools (there were many around the dorm) there were a lot of feathers. It was convenient, considering every member was feather ticklish somewhere. He cupped his hands together and collected up the many feathers in the drawer and turned around, standing to his full height and breaking the silence in the room. "hey, guys." he said, catching the attention of everybody. "look," he began before throwing the feathers up into the air, causing them to scatter and gently float down. All of the feathers were different, different shapes and sizes and all different in fluffiness. He smirked, "its raining feathers!"

Perfect timing, a few moments later there was chaos. That's just how it was in the dorm. Just one action like 'raining feathers' can cause so much chaos. The lers couldn't help themselves.

Mingi had practically pounced on the unsuspecting Yeosang out of pure excitement. He had a large yet stiff feather in his hands and he smiles widely in excitement. "ready Sangie hyung?" he asks softly as he lifts up Yeosang's shirt. Mingi couldn't hold back his cooing when he saw the honey tummy quivering in anticipation. "ahahaha!!" Yeosang squeaks as he feels the feather trace around his tummy. "naw~ ticklish?" The younger male teases.

San was being tag teamed by the two eldest members who were giving him the softest tickles. San didn't even know his ribs were this feather sensitive. "heheheeh.. Ahaha~ hyuhuhuhuhung nohohoho~" the boy whined. He then gasped and fell into louder laughter when Seonghwa started scratching at his underarms.

Jongho thought he was lucky as he saw Yunho ruthlessly feathering Wooyoung's belly button. He was being left out of the tickling and he felt a little bit jealous. He could Wooyoung's loud and desperate giggles, San's high pitched giggles and Yeosang's peels of loud laughter. No fair, he pouted. He wanted to join in. He took one of the fluffy feathers off of the floor and he waddled over to where Mingi was teasing Yeosang.

The youngest grabbed his hyung's foot and peeled the sock off slowly before stroking the little feather up his sole. The whole room went quiet as Mingi let out a panicked shriek and some loud giggles. There was a small opening, and Yeosang took the chance to escape from Mingi, leaving Jongho to drag the soft feather up Mingi's soles and in between his toes. "bwe-ehehehahahaahaha! Stahahahahahaap!!" Mingi begged. With help from Yeosang, Wooyoung had his tall tickler pinned down. "ha! Payback!" Wooyoung chirped as he took one of the feathers and fluttered it gently on Yunho's neck, causing the male to press his chin down. Yeosang let out a small 'aha!' as he managed to get a feature swirling around Yunho's left pit. "hehehehhhahahaha! NEHE! Ahaha~ nohohoho!" The tall male squealed, bucking his hips up a bit at the soft torture.

San was still struggling when Seonghwa gave in and smiled "hey Sannie, wanna help me get our leader?" he asks playfully and obviously, at the chance of getting revenge, San obliged. He took a few feathers while Seonghwa pinned down the small leader. Hongjoong's eyes were wide as San waved the feathers in front of him. "hey, hey, hey! We can talk about this San! You don't have to- eeh!! Ahahah! Yohohohou dohohohon't hahahave to tihihihickle me!" Hongjoong shook his head as San swirled the different feathers over Hongjoong's torso, occasionally dragging them from his chest allllll the way down to his hips.

After everyone seemed to have calmed down, sudden realization hit Wooyoung. "waaaait.. Has Seonghwa hyung been tickled yet?"

Well- he certainly was going to be now. The eldest member had been pinned down by Hongjoong and San, The shorter sitting on Seonghwa's hips and the younger sitting on his arms. Each of the other members had picked out different types of feathers, large ones, small ones and super fluffy ones.

Now, Seonghwa wasn't very feather ticklish, but he would admit that he did laugh a lot.

[yothangie]

Ateez Reaction: Interacting with your baby bump for the first time

pairings: Dad!Ateez x Fem Reader

warnings: No warnings that i know of just lots of fluff and a little tiny bit of angst and crack

word count: 422(?)

Dad Ateez Masterlist

Join the taglist

Hongjoong: You guys would be in the studio, he has you sitting next to him to keep an eye on you. As he is making magic with his equipment he has the idea to put headphones on your bump so your baby can hear the beats he is producing. He would get excited when it kicked, he will think the baby likes it.

“Baby seems to like the song its dancing in there”

Seonghwa: The gentleman that he is, he will ask first, the moment you started showing a bump. Although you had given him the permission he was still quite scared. It was while you were washing dishes, he came from behind and put his hands on top of your bump rubbing it.

“I’m gonna start doing this more often”

Yunho: He wouldn’t be one to interact since he’s not sure what to do LOL. The first time it would happen when you’re tired, carrying a baby is difficult work. You had asked Yunho if he can carry the bump for a while, he enjoyed it too much he offers even when you’re not.

“tired or not i’ll carry our baby for you”

Yeosang: He would be too scared to touch you and your bump, only admiring it from afar. The first time he interacted with it was during your sleep, he saw it as an opportunity to caress it and talk to it.

“Hello my little angel, sorry for being a bad dad and not talking to you”

San: The first time he kissed it and caressed it, it became a habit so before leaving for practice not only would he kiss you but he would also kiss the bump giving it a little tickle.

“Bye bye my baby”

Mingi: He would lightly knock on your bump pretending it’s a door. Would also kinda talk to it, i feel like he would be scared to interact with it as he doesnt want to hurt you

“Hello anyone there, it’s me your dad”

Wooyoung: I feel like he would talk to the baby rambling about his day and basically share everything with it, he would be scolding the poor baby for kicking too hard. Poking at it softly

“Hey don’t kick your mama too hard”

Jongho: THIS MAN he would sing. The first time he would be singing to you, having a little karaoke sesh, as the song was ending he got closer to your bump finishing the song singing to your bump ending it with a kiss on it.

“This song is dedicated to my little baby”

—————————————————————————————————————

A/N: i got so mang request for this dad ateez / husband ateez i’ll be doing those this week super excited!!

Taglist: @reooreo @starhwahwa @nnnarchives @chaerryful

[atozfic]

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!”

[justaaveragereader]

Slashtober🔪|| Jennifer’s Body!Yeosang

Pairing: Yeosang x Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: DARK THEME, Dub Con, CNC Manipulative Yeosang, Mean Yeosang, Mentions of Death, Yeosang Is A Killer😬, Choking, Reader Is Put Into A Headlock🤪, Spitting, Name Calling, Humiliation, Dollification, Raw Sex, Degradation, Rough Sex, Oral, This Is Slashtober..You Know What You’re Getting Yourself Into🤪If I Missed Something..Lemme Know👀👀..

A/N: Yall it’s finally time for Slashtober AHHHHH! Im just going to apologize ahead of time for the person I was when I wrote all the fics for Slashtober this year😔, they are all 5.5k+, believe it or not I cut a lot out of this fic otherwise it was going to be a 9.8k+ fic, with that being said let’s have an amazing Slashtober this year👏🏼🖤! Onto slasher Yeosang!

Slashtober 24’ Masterlist

NSFW UNDER CUT MDNI!!!🔞

“Yeosang come on.” You groan out, pulling his wrist. His shyness always killed you, the man was sculpted by the Greek Gods themselves yet Yeosang hid inside his shell constantly.

“This is our first day of college.” You groan, attempting to pull him further on campus. Trying to move him was next to impossible, convinced his feet here one with the concrete.

“What if someone talks to me?” He says nervously, while looking around the campus. Multiple people pass by him chattering amongst each other. Well immersed in college life. This was the lifestyle for you, not for him.

Over the past couple of months it was hard to convince Yeosang to go out, he had originally planned to take a year off after highschool, not even wanting to bother with any type of academics anymore. His parents had burnt him out, the social setting fried him up, and your constant nagging on attending the same school is what grounded him. Highschool had been quite a ride for you both, you both had always stuck to each other. Being the outsiders amongst all odds, none of that mattered as long as he had you, and vice versa. You were born practically attached at the hip, and nothing would change the connection you both had.

Letting out a loud sigh he begins to move his feet, dreading the life he signed up for all because you didn’t want to “be alone” in this chapter of your life. As his feet begin to move your eyes light up. Gripping his wrist you swiftly move towards the buildings dodging all the moving bodies, while you continue to yap his ear off about what classes you both got, Yeosang soaks in his surroundings, a shiver runs down his spine, just as his body breaks out in goosebumps a shoulder bumps Yeosang sending him slightly tumbling back into another body, your hand that was holding him was knocked away.

Your eyes immediately try to find the culprit of the contact you whiz your body around. Vocals warming up to cuss out whoever knocked into you both.

“Way to go San.” A small man says with annoyance underlying his tone, his hands placed on Yeosangs shoulders to help steady his balance.

“You alright man?” San says quickly panicking, hands flying in multiple directions, glancing over Yeosang to make sure he has no injuries. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, gripping Yeosangs shoulders tighter, pulling him closer to his body. His warm breath tickling Yeosangs ear.

“I think he’s fine, after all I did catch him.” Wooyoung says with a hint of teasing underlying his tone. Lightly shoving Wooyoung back, San steps in front of you, broad back facing you while he scans over Yeosang, lightly grasping him like he’s made of the most precious glass. His warm hands brushing his hair out of his face, exposing the birthmark by his eye. Sans jaw drops slightly, his eyes grow in size.

“How cool!” He says bringing his face closer to Yeosangs birthmark, wanting to inspect it further. San never knew the meaning of personal space. You slightly shove San to the best of your abilities away from your best friend, barely moving, he looks in your direction. Being shell shocked at the fact you put your hands on him.

“Who the hell do you think you are?! Get your hands away from him! You don’t go around touching people you don’t know. On top of that how rude of you bump into us. You got eyes, do they work though?!” You shout, as you shove off Wooyoungs hands from Yeosangs shoulders.

“And you!” You shout even louder, pointing a finger in Woos face, as you grip Yeosangs wrist snatching him out of his grasp.

“Who in the entire fuck are you?! You caught him my ass, your big boulder shoulder friend here knocked him into you. You didn’t catch him.” You shout in his face, his hands still in the air where Yeosangs shoulders were just seconds ago. You smack his hands down to his sides.

All San could do was watch with admiration in his eyes, never had he seen someone as fiery as Hongjoong in quite a while. His eyes followed your every moment, all the yelling you were doing was being drowned out, the twinkle in his eyes lighting with every finger you pointed in Wooyoungs direction. You poking his chest brought him back to reality.

“And you, all in my bestfriends personal space! What you got rocks for brains up there?!” Cracking a smile he grips your finger in his hand, warm palms engulfing it. He shakes your finger poking his chest. A radiant smile breaks out on his face, warming your hearts lightly. Face still stone cold you look at him with daggers in your eyes..

“Hello I’m San.” He says full of glee. Like you hadn’t been cursing him and his flirtatious friend out for the past five minutes. Snatching your hand back, you wipe your palms on your pants. Side eyeing his friend who was clearly looking at Yeosang like he was a hunger deprived animal. You step back, guarding Yeosangs frame. San beams his smile, stepping to the side, he waves his hand once more.

“Hi! I’m San! Nice to meet you!” He speaks to Yeosang, Yeosang gives him a tight lip smile, raising his hand quickly, barely waving before dropping it.

“And this here..” San says pulling Wooyoung in a bone crushing side hug.

“Is Wooyoung!” He says while patting Woos shoulders knocking him slightly forward.

“Jung Wooyoung at your service.” He says winking at Yeosang reaching his hand out, attempting to shake Yeosangs hand. Slapping his hand away, you push Yeo back slightly, not wanting him to get any closer to Yeosang.

“Listen here San, take you and your flirty feral friend over here out of my sight.” You grit out.

“Heading into the main building?” San questions with hearts in his eyes, your snappy tone fell on his deaf ears. All he heard was you say his name and his heart practically imploded on itself

“If so, that's where we are heading! We could walk as a group!” San crushes your side while Woo crushes Yeosangs side. Forming one line, San grabs your wrist pulling you and Yeo towards the main entrance. As you all fall into an assembly line of movement, Wooyoung blows lightly on Yeosangs ear, startling him, grabbing Yeosangs sweaty hand, he leans into his ear once more.

“You’re pretty and skittish, I like that in a person.” He whispers, blowing on his ear once more. A small squeak leading into a laugh fills Yeosangs ear. Your hand grips Yeosangs wrist tighter, pulling him closer to your body. As San continues to lead you all into the main entrance never does he stop talking, with each step joy fills his tone. A warmth spreads through your body at his actions, still on the fence you let him lead, hesitantly following him through the doors. Only if you had known then that the friendship that would bloom between you all would end up to their demise.

-

“How are you feeling?” You ask Yeosang, your palm covers his forehead, face sunken in, sweat covering his whole body. He shivers with each breath he takes. Letting out a wet cough he looks up at you, lips cracked, dehydration and lack of sleep warps him into a quivering mess.

“I think I’m going to die.” Yeosang whispers out, deep voice cracking in pain. Letting out a small groan he tries to cave in further on himself, pushing himself further in the fetal position.

“Should we take him to go see someone?” You ask distressed, your eyes shoot all over Yeosang. You had never seen him this sick before. Your stomach doubles over in worry, uneasiness filling your veins as you stand up grabbing his jacket and shoes. San grabs your arm, stopping your frantic actions.

“He will be fine, he probably has the flu.” San says, a small smile creeping on his face. His effort to reassure you falls short. As you both had grown closer the underlying jealousy Yeo and San felt for each other was hard not to notice. The tension between the two could suffocate anyone within a 50 mile radius.

“The flu? Look at him San, I’ve never seen him this bad before.” You reply, clearly on edge. Hushing you San brings you into a small hug.

“If he’s like this tomorrow, I say we take him to the doctor, as for right now I think we should at least give it 24 hours, his sickness came out of nowhere.”

Cracking a dry lipped smile, letting out a small whistle which breaks into a coughing fit.

“It’s almost like that’s how sickness works San.”

Rolling his eyes, San gets ready to rebuttal back to Yeo but is stopped by you placing your hand on his chest.

“I’ll call Wooyoung, and he can come babysit you.” San says, tone laced with sarcasm. Before Yeosang can respond his stomach lets out a loud growl, doubling over in pain, biting his lip he lets out a small groan. Before you can shoot to his side, San grabs your wrist holding you back. His lips graze your ear..

“He will be fine…Woo will be here shortly so he can take care of him.” Biting your lip you look over Yeo once more, grabbing him some more pain meds, placing them down beside his water. You brush your hands through his damp hair.

“Will you be alright..?” You whisper kindly to him.

“Of course. These could be growing pains.” He says with a chuckle, letting out a small laugh, brushing your hands through his hair once more you place a kiss on his forehead. Sans nostrils flare, one thing no one would ever break is your and Yeosangs bond. Two flames in the night, even though one always burned brighter than the other. You place your hand on his forehead once more, gathering your things along with San, you make way to head out before looking over your shoulder once more, against your better judgment you leave, letting the aching sound of the door close behind you. San nudges your shoulder lightly with his own, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Hey…” he says in a small voice, giving your hand a squeeze.

“He will be okay, Woo will be over shortly.” Biting your lip, you try your best to gather a smile to send him, nerves of sickly Yeosang still cloud your mind. Nodding you both make your way to the library, Yeosang will be fine right..? Right. If only you had known that Yeo wasn’t the one in danger.

~

“Hey Yeo! I’m here!” Wooyoung gleefully announces. Taking his shoes off at the entryway of the room. Holding his backpack strap with a big smile on his face.

“San told me you weren’t feeling well. Don't worry, I made some soup. Guaranteed to heal you!” Looking up from the floor with the bowl in his hand. He looks around, the lights are off, the tv casts a shadow on the wall, such little light barely illuminating the small dark room. Taking a step forward he calls out for Yeosang again, with no response. Taking his phone out, he rereads Sans text messages, making sure that Yeosang was left at his dorm. Just as he’s beginning to message San, he feels a heavy presence in the room. It's like boulders have fallen on his chest, his knees slightly buckle. Dropping the bowl of soup, the liquid pours all over the floor, dampening the area around Woo, falling completely to the floor, gasping for air. His eyes fill with tears, struggling to breath, he attempts to crawl back out the door. Through blurry vision he sees an object blocking the door. Reaching his hands up he grasps Yeosangs pants, twisting them tightly, with pleading eyes he looks up, face turning a purple and blue hue.

“Look at you…” Yeosang coos through a sultry tone. Bending down so he’s eye to eye level with Woo, he traces the features of his face softly before grabbing a fistful of his hair. Fear pulsing through Wooyoungs veins, his choked sobs ring out though the room, the tv buzz adding onto the leery tension.

“Pretty and helpless.” Yeosang groans out, bringing his soft lips to Wooyoungs ear.

“I like that in a person.” He grits, a choked sob leaves Woos throat once more, his drowned out scream was all that was heard behind the dorm room labeled 1117 before silence took over.

~

“Have you heard from Woo?” You say into the phone stuffing your bag full of papers, running around like a chicken with your head cut off. Cramming as much as you can into your bag. With finals right around the corner, Yeosangs sickly experience, and Sans clinginess. Your plate was overloading with stress.

“Nope, not at all. He never even came the night you said he would.” He says with a frown on his face, you let out a small defeated sign. Rubbing your temples. Yeosang lets out a small gasp startling you.

“What's wrong?!” You practically yell through the phone, heart dropping to your stomach.”

“I’m a literal God!” Yeosang says in the most nonchalant tone you’ve ever heard. You let out a small hum, clearly annoyed at Yeosangs sudden change in behavior. Wooyoung was possibly missing, no one had heard from him in a couple of days. Yet here was Yeosang parading around like he was hot shit. A full one eighty from his normal demeanor.

“Yeo can we not do this right now?” You say with the phone held up by your shoulder, stuffing what felt like endless amounts of notes into your backpack.

“No I don’t think you understand, I am literally a God, you should see it.” He says through a breathless voice, almost in a moan.

“Yeo I’m a bit busy right now, where the fuck did I put those papers!” You slightly shout.

“Plans?”

“Yes, I have a study date with San..” you trail off at the end of your sentence, checking your bag once over again making sure you had everything you needed.

“Date? You have a date with San.”

“Are you asking me..or telling me..?” You say while your fingers pinch the area above your eyebrows. With a billion things on your plate, Yeosangs new attitude was adding onto it.

“Well I guess have a good time…” trailing off, the awkwardness in the conversation was so thick it felt almost taboo, forbidden.

“Umm..okay. I still have to go.” You huff out, trying not to let the annoyance seep through your words. Cutting the phone conversation short, you hang up. It just seemed like everything changed with Yeosang. He was this quiet, overly shy boy you had grown up with, attached at the hip with, and now? It feels like you barely know who he is.

Opening the lighter he had taken from Hongjoong pockets the night he caught him in the art room alone, flicking it open the flame ignited. The blue base of the flame catches his eye. Sticking his tongue out he lets the heat engulf the tip of his tongue, no ounce of pain in sight. Letting out a small squeal of excitement he closes the top to the lighter. The new found power goes immediately to his head. Deciding to go pay San a visit before you two could have your meetup.

~

You look down at your phone, San thumbs up your message when you let him know you are close to being at the pool house. On Tuesdays he had swim meet, deciding to stay behind to get some extra practice. You both decided to meet up and head to the library from there together.

“Hey San..I’m here!” You announce stepping into the pool area, clutching your bag strap with extra pep in your step as you walk closer before coming to a complete stop. The pool was a crimson color, the smell of chlorine, and iron filled your nose. Your body does a noticeable shiver, before you can step forward a gnawing feeling in your stomach stops you.

“San!” You call out, refusing to move from your spot. Your feet move before your body can comprehend what’s going on. Your back brushes the knob of the door, fully turning around to book it out of there. You frantically pull out your phone, dialing San when you hear his phone go off in the room you are in. Deciding to leave you hear a soft splash. Your hand frozen on the knob of the door, your brain is fighting your heart. Your brain is telling you to leave, be logical, that your fight or flight isn’t kicking in for nothing, while your heart tells you to turn around that it could be your San swimming in the pool playing a joke on you.

“Go on…turn around.” A timber voice whispers in your ear. Your body freezes in place, your eyes fill with tears. Your mascara smudging slightly, you turn your head to the side, watching as Sans phone floats at the top of the water, the small waves carrying the phone around the top. You feel a cold breath on your neck. Pushing the door you book it out of the building, your feet fuel your body, taking you the one place you always feel safe. Yeosangs dorm.

~

Your hands fly to your keys grabbing the spare key he had given you, with trembling hands, and eyes filled with tears you go to unlock his door, just as the door flies open you fall forward into his chest. Clutching the material of his damp shirt, you let out a choked sob. His cool hands come to hold the back of your shirt, removing the bag off of your arm, letting it smack the floor with a loud thud.

“Yeo-Yeo…San he wasn’t in the swimming pool bu-but..” you are cut off by Yeosang shushing you, grabbing you tighter. Your head on his chest, usually it was so warm but his chest is freezing cold, the damp material aiding in the temperate. You listen closely, as his heartbeat sounded like an angel playing the harp, it always has such a steady rhythm to it, like it was tuned by God himself but you heard nothing. It was almost like he was hollowed out. The same goosebumps you felt in the pool area, the uneasiness is the same feeling you have now. Your stomach is in a knot, biting your lip you don’t dare to look up at the man before you. Wanting to put space between both of you, you push him back slightly, eyes glued to the ground. The wet spot around Yeosangs feet make you wanna hurl.

“You're not my Yeosang are you?” You whisper quietly, the security you once had felt with him was slowly dying. Letting out a loud laugh he pulls a lighter from his pocket, pulling a cigarette from thin air, he lights it huffing in the smoke. Letting the smoke invade his lungs, letting out the smoke, blowing it from his nostrils. Pink moist tongue flickering over his bottom lip, a smile graced his face. The devil truly dressed as an angel.

“Now what gave you that idea?” He says matter of factly. Taking the lit cigarette and putting it out on his tongue. An even deeper smile gracing his face, a smile that could fool any man or woman. Your eyes grow large at the sight in front of you. Your hands come up to slap the cigarette out of his hand, the burn mark on his tongue glowing with redness.

“What is wrong with you?!” You shout.

His eyes that once shone with such light, dimmed to a dark room. This was not your Yeosang, nor who you knew at all.

“You know..” he says, taking small, slow steps towards you. Caging you in like you were a helpless animal who got caught in a weevable web. His slow but precise movements reminded you of a predator. Cold fingers coming out to dance along your jaw.

“I can count on my hands how many times you saying my name has brought me much joy..” he groans out, letting a smile creep on his face.

“I also could probably count on Hongjoongs hands, Wooyoungs hands, and Sans hands as well.”

Your heart falls into your stomach. Hongjoong the art major that had suddenly vanished out of thin air, assuming he had dropped out. As he steps closer you get closer to the door, with a flick of his wrist it locks. The temperature in the room changes drastically, it feels like winter has blown through the room. Skin breaking out in goosebumps, your eyes remain locked on Yeosangs dead eyes.

“What did you do to Woo? What did you to do San?” You semi shout, immediately shushing you he steps closer. His cold body radiating as much coolness as it can.

“Use that pretty head of yours.” He whispers into your ear, sounding like the voice in the swim area. Your eyes refuse to look at him locking on to the bag that belonged to San sitting alone in the corner of Yeosangs dorm, right next to Wooyoungs wallet.

Your eyes begin to swell with tears, shaky hands come up to lightly push Yeosang, barely moving an inch his cold hands come to rest on your waist. Your hands ball into fist pushing him harder than before. With his feet cemented in the ground he barely moves once again. Your tears pour over, streaming down your face a small choked sobbed leaves your throat.

“I hate you…I promise I do.” You say through shedded tears. Your heart breaks with each shove you give him. Knowing this isn’t your Yeosang, that this…this…thing was responsible for the disappearance of Hongjoong, Woo, and San.

“Get away from me.” You sob, trying to shove him harder, his hands steady at your waist while continuing to sob and break down. Your sorrow fills the air, and fueling Yeosangs need for you.

“Hey hey hey…” he whispers, pulling your body close to his, palming your head so you would place it across his chest.

“I’m sorry…” he whispers while kissing the top of your head. Arms wrapping around your body, so easily you fall victim to his siren-like voice. Your head immediately falls against his chest, arms tired of shoving and pushing him.

“You could have anyone you want Yeosang, why them? Why me? How could you do this to me.?” You say above a whisper. Head flat against his cold, beatless chest. His hand comes to brush your lower back, providing you comfort before he cocks his head back, head butting you with ease. Your body knocking out instanously, slumping against the floor. Letting out a small groan of satisfaction, he grabs you from the floor placing you onto his mattress.

Cracking his neck before he walks over to his bathroom to grab some supplies to clean you up. An empty face with each movement, yet on the inside he’s beaming with excitement. He can’t wait to dress you up, after all you are his doll.

~

“Yeo-Yeosang you don’t ha-.” Your sentence gets cut off by quickly wrapping a hand around your throat, the pressure making you let out a small gasp. He moved with such precision you didn’t even have time to process what kind of predicament you were exactly in.

“Good dolls don’t talk, they just act and do as they are told. Okay?” He says almost mockingly. All common sense leaves your mind, you are on the equivalent of being brain dead. Nodding your head slowly, your movements are restricted as his hand still sits on your throat. Removing his hand, you notice his veins are bulging, practically ripping from under his smooth skin.

“Look at you..” he coos, taking a step back to admire the work he has done. Your skin flawlessly smooth due to the foundation, eyes wide and doe like. His eyes twinkle with amazement, your dress that poofs at your mid section, cinching off your waist. Your breathing picks up pace, he’s studying your every move, you are trapped in a lion's den during feeding time.

Your eyes are locked into his face, refusing to look elsewhere. Hands nearly folded in your lap, back stiff, and sitting up right, just the way he wants his perfect doll. Placing the makeup brushes down, his empty eyes study you. Every breath you take, he watches as your chest rises and falls. Each time you blink he watches as your long eyelashes brush against your eyelids, the dried mascara not smudging on the skin. Biting his lip he can’t help but contain his smile. Your obedience fed his hunger.

“Look at my beautiful doll…” he answers to himself, eyes void of any light yet they speak more words than his mouth ever could. Coming close he tugs on one of the small bows on the shoulders of the dress, rubbing the soft material between his fingers. The chill that wafts off his body smacks you in the face full force.

Squishing your cheeks together, you look up at him with big eyes. The lovable and caring Yeosang was no more. His eyes twinkled with a dark lust. How could one not get lost in his eyes, the man you once knew was completely gone.

Lowering his head, nose brushing against your pulse. The soft fabric of the dress tickles his nose. He lets out a small groan. His hand that was still currently squishing your cheeks trembles slightly, grip faltering only for a second.

“You smell..” he takes another deep whiff of your scent in..

“So delicious, almost like I could eat you up.” He finishes his sentence off with a low growl. Sharp nails continue to pinch into your skin. Your eyes never leave the side of his face that’s currently being occupied by your neck.

“Wanna know a little secret?” He says, ending with a snicker.

“This pretty dress…” running his hands softly over the fabric that layered with ruffles.

“San actually bought you this dress.” Your heart comes to a screeching halt, tears swelling in your eyes. A small laugh leaves his mouth, face shriveled up in anger you pucker your lips and spit at him, the salvia hitting the side of his face. Your eyes grow big, your hand slowly coming up to cover your mouth in shock, smudging the lipstick as so. Not believing you just spit at him. Letting out a loud, breathy moan. He grabs his hard on that’s straining through his pants.

Wiping the spit off he puts some of it on his thumb sucking the warm liquid.

“Should’ve seen his face he cried out for you, ya know? His last thoughts were of you.” Ending his sentence with a snarl, his hand shooting out to grab your face. The veins are practically popping out of his skin, the red birthmark by his eye is glowing red. Yeosang is seething with the need to put you in your place once more.

“You know I don’t know why you let him come between us..” he whispers, face getting closer to yours. His eyes bore into yours snatching your soul and holding it within the palm of his hands. You were dancing in a circle with the devil. A heat rushes to your core, with every word he speaks it's almost as if you are diving head first into temptation.

“Then in the same breath I can almost say I see why he cried out for you..a sweet thing like you? Oh my…” his hands rested on your knees, the cool sensation of his skin mixing with your warmth made you break out into goosebumps.

“The jealousy he must’ve felt seeing how close we are…I wonder how many times he had your pretty ass bent over for him.” Voice like velvet yet the filthy words that were leaving his mouth were anything but silky.

“Always made me wonder if you liked it rough or soft…or maybe in between?” Bringing his face closer to yours his cool hands begin to hike under your dress. Your eye makeup creases as your eyes grow bigger with size, a heat spreads across your chest clearly embarrassed by how turned on you were by him mocking you and San. That guilty feeling you once had flees your body.

“Did you spit on his cock the way you spit on me?” He whispers against your lips, the cool plushness brushing against your lipstick, making your breath hitch. A small whimper leaves your throat. Refusing to break eye contact with him you continue to stare off into the empty pools of his eyes, doing laps in them.

“I’m not going to lie…I was almost a bit jealous, I can’t imagine having this wet of a cunt wrapped around anyone else’s cock but my own.” Cold fingers dance along the outside of your tights, pushing his fingers into the material he can feel the wetness of your cunt soak through the multiple layers of clothing you're wearing. Rubbing his thumb over your wet lips pussy lips, letting his thumb soak with your slick arousal, pushing further into the fabric letting the material get caught between your lips, his cool thumb brushes your clit, making your eyes slightly flutter.

“If you say pretty please, I might just give your little cunt some attention.” Yeosang coos at you, slapping your clothed cunt over, and over. Working your body up til it was on edge, his eyes never lost sight of you, watching your body twitch and move with each slap, letting his sharp nail cut the fabric of your tights so he had full access to your pussy. He pushes a thumb right against your throbbing clit, your skin heated with each slap making the skin on your cunt slightly swell.

Biting your lip you divert your eyes to the floor, not wanting to look at him as you beg for him to give you what you want. Standing back he rids himself of every piece of clothing, making his way slowly towards your fully dressed body. Pulling your dress down so your breast pops out. Letting out a breathy sigh, lowering himself he nips at the tender skin on your chest. Letting out a small mewl you can’t help but fist the sheets below you. Trying to remain as perfectly still you can’t help but stir in pleasure. His heavy cock brushing your thighs comes to a slow hault. Engulfing his hands with your left breast, he kneads it, letting his finger tips glaze over your perked up nipple. You bite your inner cheek at the sensation, more of your arousal leaves your body. Your white tights sticking heavily to your wet lips. Flipping your dress up he thumbs at your pulsating clit.

The small amount of attention on it has you letting out a breathy moan, legs twitching in need squishing his fingers together and slowly pulling them apart to watch your arousal spread before popping them in his mouth.

“Fuckkk” he sighs out at the taste of you, pushing your body back, flipping your dress up so your covered lower half was to his sight, stretching the hole he had made into your tights a bit bigger. Gripping his cock he slides it between your pussy lips, coating it in your warm juices before sliding in slowly, with each inch he gives you, the air is being knocked out of your lungs. Your cunt stretches to accommodate his size. His strokes start out slow, and deep. Letting you feel each vein that danced along his cock, choking on your saliva, your hands fist the sheets below you. Trying to grip onto reality as swiftly as possible, it’s almost like he has you underneath his own spell.

“Should’ve seen the way he was begging.” He said through a moan, continuing to deep stroke into your cunt. Your juices spread between your thighs as your back arches off of the bed.

“It was so pathetic.” He grits out.

“Now look, his girl is crying on my cock. Am I fucking your good baby?” Biting his lip, he brings his hips back, slamming them into you again. Your nails scratching down his bare chest.

“Sh-shut up.” You say in a breathless moan. With each stroke of his hips you feel the wind being knocked out of you. Your eyes filled with warm tears that are streaming down your face, you feel so dirty, so disgusting like this was all wrong but if sin was so bad, why does it feel so right?

“Or what?” He questions before letting your throat go. Thumb hooked in your mouth, soft lips wrapping around his cold thumb. Your immediate obedience sets him off. Pulling his thumb from your mouth he flips you over. Pulling your hips so your ass is arched in the air. The ruffles from the baby doll dress hike up, leaving the hole in your tights exposing your wet cunt to him. Snaking an arm under your left breast he grips your throat from the underside. Pushing his throbbing cock back into you, immediately hitting your spongy spot with the new position. Letting out a loud gasp your head begins to fall forward, squeezing your neck he pulls out before slamming you back on his cock. A loud cry leaving your throat, eyes immediately rolling back.

“Fuc-fuck! Yeosang please.” You cry out, letting his body weight on top of you, he continues to rag doll you up and down his cock. Your hands fly to his strong hand around your throat. Mouth agape as he continues to slide in between your warm, wet sticky walls.

“Tell me you love this dick.” He groans into your ear, with a big smile right across his lips. His other hand comes down to crack the meat of your ass watching it jiggle with each movement. Letting out a loud sob, you begin to drool on his arm, his thick cool cock contrasting your warm wet walls was so blissful, repeatedly he kept pushing your spot, which each hike up the bed your hands squeezed tighter around his arm. Fully wrapping you in a headlock, he drops even more of his body weight on top of you. Practically laying flat against your back.

“I love it Yeosang!” You cry out, drool running down his cool forearm. The speed in his hips picks up, his wet pelvis slamming against the meat of your ass, hiking your body up the bed with each stroke. The headboard of the bed slamming against the wall leaving indentations on it.

“You love this dick?”

“Yes!”

“Say it.” Locking his arm around your neck tighter, he begins to cut off some of the air flow. Your head begins to buzz with delight, toes curling as you are on the brink of an orgasm.

“I fucking love your dick Yeosang.” You practically scream out.

Putting you in a full head lock, he snatches you off the bed pushing your body against the door. Nipples coming into contact with the cool surface causing them to pebble up. Putting his arm back around your throat placing you in a headlock once more. His weight crushes you against the door, his other hand aids in pumping you up and down his cock. Your nails leave crescent like marks in his skin, small red marks litter random areas all over him.

“Yeaaa you love this dick. I know you do.” He grunts into your ear. Letting his arm loosen up, he wraps a hand around your throat, tilting your head back so he can kiss you. Both of your tongues dance in a heated session. Your drool is getting all over his chin. Teeth clink against each other as the fight for dominance is at an all time high. His hips pick up speed making you drop your jaw and let out a breathy moan into his mouth. Your lipstick smears all over his skin.

“Tell me you love it.” He groans into your mouth, hot breath being exchanged between you both. Your eyes flood with need, with desire, with want.

“I fucking love it Yeosang.” You pant into his mouth, his hand around your throat squeezes a bit tighter. You both lock eyes, the squelching noise from him sliding in and out of your cunt clouds the room. Your toes begin to curl once more.

“You gonna to be a good doll and take it?” His empty eyes continue to set a flame to yours. As your own orgasm is on the brink your toes begin to curl even harder. Your eyes begin to flutter, trying your best to remain focused on his gaze. You let out a small squeak when he grabs your throat tighter, practically lifting you off the ground. Pushing you harder against the door both his hands come up to your breast. Using them as an anchor to hike you up and down kiss throbbing member. Your feet are barely on the ground, your hands cover his own that are kneading your breast with each stroke he gives you.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You chant religiously like a prayer that Yeosang will answer to. Your foundation leaves streaks against the door due to your face being squished against the cool wood. Your eyes begin to roll back, nails cutting into the material on the door, your jaw unhinges and with one final stroke you are soaking his lower belly with your juices. Squirting so hard it nearly pushes his cock out of you, letting out a soaring scream of Yeosangs name, he continues to plow through your juices letting them soak his skin with the slick fluid. His hips slow in speed making sure to hit into you even deeper. His slow strokes are nearing the edge for him. Hands soon firmly grasped around your breast. Coming down from your high you blink the tears out of your eyes, pressing your head against the wood. He slowly lets you slide down the door til your feet hit the ground. Slowly easing his member out of your swollen pussy, he kneels down, hiking your leg up. Head fully under your dress, running his nose over your swollen and red clit. He flicks his tongue collecting the juices that run down your plush thighs. Letting out a small, satisfying groan at your juices dancing on his tongue. You try to push his head away with your hand, snatching your hand and pinning it to the door, he collects some of your juices again. Standing up, he tilts your head back spitting the liquid on your mouth, while you let the flavor of you both dance on your tongue he pushes his wet cock between your thighs, the head of his member brushing against your clit making you whimper. Grabbing your hand he brings it to his stiff cock, making him groan when you wrap your warm hand around him.

“Be a good girl and make daddy cum. If you do it right, I may just let you live.” He sing songs in your ear. What he says goes in one ear, and out the other. Your post orgasm brain is straight mush. Dropping to your knees you open your mouth, flattening your tongue out for him. Sliding his wet cock onto your warm tongue, coating it in salvia. He pets the top of your head before bending down, back arching outwards.

“Wanna know a secret?” He whispers, pulling you off his cock so he can brush his lips flat against your lips. Your eyes bore up at him, mascara smudged, lipstick all over your face, foundation coming off in patches. Running a thumb over your cheek he hooks two fingers into the bottom of your mouth prying open your jaw.

“This was the same exact sight San saw before I killed him.” He whispers on your lips before breaking out into an eerie smile. Head butting you once more, body immediately thumping to the floor. That eerie smile never leaves his face. Yeosang was ready to have his final meal of the day, you.

Taglist: @mingisprincesss @sanhwalvr @walkingtravesty97 @crazylittlebisexual @sheilogreen @ateezmakesmehappy @miyaluvvsyou @wisejudgedragonhairdo @star-wingz @ririnnie @ihaveaproblem98 @raindropsondragons @hongjoongsprincess @radskaddattle @suzukialice16 @a-tiny-thing @arilevenatz @multistanisms @demonlineswhore @dij-ology @yyaurii @sousydive @itza-meee @ana-stasssiaaa @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @yunyunrin @jjoongstar @kyeos4ng @peach-bearies @bitchwhytho @spooo00oky @hey-im-charisma @tearfulsparks78 @metalheadatiny @apriecotte @aurorajoye @lola-horore-553 @ayoo-bangtan @acetruepunk @tajannah-price1 @seungminsfavoritegirlll

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[crazyforhwa]

Between hard and soft hours tbh but I really can’t stop thinking about a lazy make out session with Seonghwa… with lots of tongue obviously because come on, it’s Seonghwa.

It’d feel so amazing to just have a whole make out session with him, hands on each other’s face or neck.. and maybe an other member (*cough* Choi San) witnessing it and ending up joining the fun……

✩LAZY MAKE OUT SESSIONS WITH SEONGHWA✩

anon, that's so fucking hot.. (seonghwa is just hot yk)

I feel like lazy make out sessions with him usually happen during gloomy or winter days, as he thinks it feels the most romantic that way. He would be the one to initiate them by doing seemingly innocent things that end with him pushing his tongue past your lips in no time.

It would be such a mess, the perfect contrast between lust and love. Just two bodies laying on the bed, some rnb music playing quietly in the background to spice up the mood.

I feel like he's the 'breathy moans' type of guy. Whining into your mouth, describing how much he desires you.. that's what he's into. He isn't afraid of letting out sounds, and he expects you to let out some too, especially when other members are around. It definitely makes him hard as a rock, knowing that his colleagues are listening.

And oh boy.. talking about exhibitionism, I feel like he would purposely leave his door not fully closed, BEGGING in his mind that somebody(ehem, San) would catch you guys in the act. And don't even start on joining. I don't think he would be 100% comfortable with every member, but he would definitely share you with San, Hongjoong or Wooyoung (boy would be already close just by seeing them play with you).

We all have seen that fucking tongue of his. it's long, pointy, and he knows how to use it. he constantly sticks it out during performances, so I imagine him to be an absolute freak. He wins every battle for dominance, even at such slow paced moments.

Spit. SPIT. He loves when your make out sessions are messy, long strings of saliva forming whenever he detaches his plump lips from yours. He would randomly pull away just to stick his tongue out and let his spit slowly drip into your mouth, quickly getting back to business after.

Let's also mention that not every make out session with him is just lips. Oh no no, he is paying attention to everything. Sometimes he lowers himself and plants soft pecks against your neck. Sometimes he gently bites your earlobe, his warm breath tickling your skin. And sometimes he just smothers your whole face with smooches, grinning while he does so. He is a man of passion, but in these moments he just loves to chill out and show you love in a slightly different way.

Oh, and that smirk of his. He would grab different parts of your body unexpectedly, making you let out soft gasps that would trigger his cocky smile. Sometimes it'd be an innocent booty grab, but one second later his hand is slowly sliding under your shirt, his warm fingers exploring your body, getting closer to the sensitive areas on your chest.

After about half an hour, he will lose the ability to think straight. His hand would slide into your pants and quickly find your opening, slowly forcing two fingers into your tight hole. He would hit every sweet spot while still kissing you, getting "annoyed" and spanking you every time you get distracted by the pleasure.

Oh, yes.

I love him, man😭😭😭😭

should I make it a fic? 👀 (I feel like this is way too short, I'm sorry)