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ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)
read hyung line here
genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)
length: 14.4k
c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression
a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍
taglist: at the end
san
pov: you run away with san and the cromer
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw
“s-san, don’t do it”
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”
san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can rest…just for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but it’s far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent
you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave
“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”
your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”
“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”
you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument
only to find that he’s not there
he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot
even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face
approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”
at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours
he looks terrified
san is lost in a distorted warp of visions
he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing
but there is blood
there’s so much blood
it’s everywhere
you’re there
it’s your blood
there’s someone screaming; raw with despair
he’s screaming
the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying
you’re going to die
“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw
and san has to stop you from dying
his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings
he looks around with increasing franticness
he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew
water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell
all his senses scream the same thing to him
it’s just like when you died
his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”
your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him
there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly
you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead
when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours
and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave
the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it
your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch
he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby
your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier
you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew
instead, you give his hand a squeeze
san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt
his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze
he’s mouthing something, you realise
do you trust me?
you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance
with my life
the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”
you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder
the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead
you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening
there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing
the cromer
as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet
quietly, he helps you up to your feet
the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response
you trust san with your life
so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today
and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch
you both make a run for it
when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun
san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”
together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave
few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand
you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight
“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”
he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it
the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery
only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on
you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different
it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you
you turn to look at him
“san, what exactly is going on?”
he’s quiet
he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?
letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”
you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before
“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”
he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”
“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his
you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips
“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”
when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes
“why did you bring the cromer?”
if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you
but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take
taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions
san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”
“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”
he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you
“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”
without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”
“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”
at his words, you soften
because san didn’t just see you die
he lived through seeing you die
you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms
“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”
san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”
you shake your head with your own watery smile
“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”
“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck
you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”
“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”
he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too
except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks
hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest
“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his
he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince
it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm
the glow of the cromer pulses
“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head
he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you
“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips
there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together
your world goes white
the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest
san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt
and your hand…
there’s no cut
your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm
san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him
“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet
“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug
the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer
in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt
you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention
you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon
“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”
you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again
with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass
somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier
when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further
he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”
that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels
neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold
only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies
because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life
at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble
san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own
you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible
lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap
you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut
“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”
san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his
the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin
goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you
“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”
his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in
because if it really is the same cut, then that means-
san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain
your world turns black.
there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness
you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you
you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes
“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”
his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice
“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”
you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”
san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you
you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head
you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter
a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound
that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold
you’re in a cell
the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls
damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know
you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark
they squat in front of your bars
the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two
“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious
at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers
the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”
almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth
“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out
daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”
he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars
“now give it to me,” he demands
san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer
he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand
as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it
except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion
you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement
the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move
but so do you
this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body
the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do
from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest
san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow
but there is so much blood
it’s everywhere
the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying
and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought
did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?
or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?
the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything
“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s
he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”
your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”
“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”
he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw
“s-san, don’t do it”
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”
san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can rest…just for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but it’s far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
mingi
pov: you're the crew's surgeon
you have all the time in the world to yourself
the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies
hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates
it’ll take about a week to arrive
and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties
which is a good thing, really
but it also means that you have a lot of time
and time is your worst enemy
time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths
you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on
you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood
because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it
step one, rinse the area with clean water
step two, disinfect the wound
step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin
step four, suture as required for nastier injuries
step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten
there’s a procedure and it makes sense
but when it’s invisible, what do you do?
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself
the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin
it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate
you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist
and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice
it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain
that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-
only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you
“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head
you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued
with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you
he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant
“can you carve me another dolphin?”
months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair
most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one
you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable
“i already made you one,” you start
but he protests, “i lost him!”
you blink
nevermind. maybe not so valuable
“...you lost it?”
you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void
“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”
you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes
“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent
he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand
“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”
mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use
“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it
you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away
you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t
he stays and asks you question after question about the carving
which part are you working on now?
how do you shape the tail?
what was the first thing you tried to carve?
if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?
and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening
…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat
it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts
and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock
he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures
he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin
but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden
mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow
he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side
what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side
and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals
but that’s tomorrow
for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore
because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers
you don’t have another bad day that week
technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad
but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor
of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured
you’re not even sad
you’re just…hollow
and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way
being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town
their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you
instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern
you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals
it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either
“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”
you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction
“lookout duties,” you simply say
but mingi calls your bluff
“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”
when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet
“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”
he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason
when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself
he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”
“since when did you like seafood?”
“always?”
mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide
he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side
almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual
you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area
when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster
“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh
you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew
he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself
and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate
…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you
“eat,” he encourages
mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you
but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite
it tastes good
shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning
by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating
mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite
the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you
and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky
because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands
the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked
the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean
you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind
your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side
no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you
you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do
it’s hard for you to talk today
but he already knows that
“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you
without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk
“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”
he has told you this story before
more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised
mingi knows he’s told you this story before
but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind
(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)
you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story
you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds
except you can’t
it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth
and mingi knows
but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen
and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you
some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way
because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay
after all…mingi’s been there before, too
the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume
the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol
someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around
the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs
where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay
and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music
his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful
mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved
he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover
you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment
and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day
because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them
maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you
when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love
not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no
but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
but you have mingi and he is making one for you
it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy
and even if it takes forever?
well
mingi’s got a huge fucking heart
and it’s all yours
wooyoung
pov: you find a stowaway on your ship
“we’re headed off course again”
“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows
yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”
you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point
a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands
so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself
but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it
not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea
“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck
although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously
“you trust that person?”
yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”
well
considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him
yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”
you close your eyes and exhale
admittedly, yunho has a point
and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck
you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck
“stowaway”
yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof
said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness
the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back
but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free
the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps
you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''
despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin
“of course, captain!”
you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him
but he’s not giving it to you
you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder
seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”
you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman
“keep me updated on the ship’s course”
yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway
“and thanks…wooyoung.”
you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you
because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him
except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it
it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass
his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route
honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling
at least that’s what you tell yourself
you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar
wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board
you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients
also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud
and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack
he attacks your heart with his cooking
granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef
he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire
mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight
the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together
you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising
“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”
wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle
realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up
there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”
“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument
but it’s him who comes to your defence
“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists
then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you
you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck
…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything
you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile
you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants
and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation
wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now
when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake
“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”
hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”
you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away
“what about you?” you end up offering
wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”
to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response
the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together
you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen
your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing
the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale
“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow
you note the use of past tense
“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively
he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”
“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out
he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”
in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his
your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”
he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes
“have you also lost somebody?”
you nod at his question
“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”
wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”
there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight
he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief
you smile wistfully and he returns it
“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke
wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too
“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans
“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”
wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”
“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”
he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”
“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands
you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”
“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile
he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together
just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly
your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word
“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”
wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse
as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter
the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods
even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less
there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table
you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know
the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach
you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table
a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them
like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself
you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”
with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off
but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”
unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”
a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on
“true north”
her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time
she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did
wooyoung hurries to catch up to you
as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”
“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”
wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”
he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both
“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”
when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy
it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way
immediately, your hackles are raised
the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”
“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”
hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”
your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”
“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”
sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”
“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”
those two words again
you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…
suddenly, you remember.
legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person
a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters
he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements
the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long
human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing
however, this does not go unpunished
the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-
your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend
wooyoung interrupts
“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”
you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”
at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”
“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”
your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”
“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”
as were your parents by extension of the consequences
“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself
one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”
without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him
“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”
because you see it
the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life
wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else
you step in front of him, knife raised in protection
because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart
“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him
there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”
“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”
you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight
because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you
tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying
the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet
you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both
and indeed they are
they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern
hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough
now.
as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction
your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you
because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you
each other’s true north
jongho
pov: you're a mermaid who saves him
you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters
you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms
there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking
and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects
besides, what’s the worst that could happen?
no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather
you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation
you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale
there’s someone standing there waiting
his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth
the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists
you are at his complete mercy
he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word
“please”
immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net
there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered
“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth
there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger
he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste
but even then, he does not stop or falter
and then you hear it
the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net
you plummet into the ocean
and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall
jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him
he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision
overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further
he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again
he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast
one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes
it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea
he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free
except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips
by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch
he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones
instead, he plummets into the ocean
and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail
your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance
for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon
but then you see it - see him
apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before
and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home
there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting
it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence
you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water
as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean
in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels
and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings
you gingerly swim closer
when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips
you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy
and so you swim.
the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath
he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions
the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears
when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-
and bearings
the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing
there was the storm
the tangled sail
him climbing up the riggings
falling down, down, down
and then…
you
your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him
instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you
but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere
it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again
he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour
but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles
he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove
you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something
he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern
it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters
the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland
you wait, trying to gauge his actions
but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore
you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get
and then you see it
a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells
a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like
you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation
jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove
he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust
but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand
…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen
he tries not to feel disappointed
after all, you have no reason to trust him
so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat
when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state
but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer
gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells
in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle
a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need
jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face
you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning
you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human
how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?
their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control
quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…
and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike
it’s ironic
no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom
side by side
jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs
he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you
so he resorts to using his bare hands
you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something
you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach
for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all
so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him
jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away
he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once
he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness
“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”
your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles
you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops
if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling
you want to hear it again
jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands
he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth
the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it
he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time
he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish
so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”
are mermaids technically fish?
did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?
before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod
jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet
as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him
whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body
but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so
and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display
your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements
he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you
jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you
and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice
“why are you staring?”
your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour
his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind
“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”
for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter
a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you
together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air
his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night
but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…
until it’s too late
you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove
it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side
you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know
you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it
except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock
it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater
so then, why?
you look down and your heart drops
tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus
you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water
your scales have started to lose their shimmer
jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes
(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)
“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in
you uncurl your fingers with a shrug
“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”
you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”
jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down
“you run it through your hair to untangle it”
he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face
“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers
just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once
when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you
you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck
he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair
his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot
his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before
you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body
“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”
he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better
you try to formulate an answer, “i…”
i think i’m in love with you
of course, you would never tell him that
but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist
a scar
“is that- how did you get this?”
you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger
as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly
“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”
your gaze is unfocused as you process the information
the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail
because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time
years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense
you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again
but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to
they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled
and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho
“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic
you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body
yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified
your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving
“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response
you can’t- won’t die in front of him
your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms
jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-
“don’t!” you bark out sharply
he freezes in shock
you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…
you could never yell at jongho
with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”
and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water
except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens
you. cannot. breathe.
you’re drowning.
jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone
his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise
he dives into the water after you
the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense
jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you
your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching
he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest
you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth
jongho will not let you die
lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours
a kiss of life-
he closes his eyes
-and love
but you don’t respond
jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath
instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder
and then he feels it
he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his
with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss
below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again
your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow
you can move again
you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths
he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now
“jongho, you-”
he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter
“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes
“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”
“fuck, you scared me”
jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water
you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”
he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly
“don’t ever do that again”
the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly
it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact
where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love
“i won’t,” you promise
on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man
a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after
but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid
a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after
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#loren are you SERIOUS#how and i mean HOW do you manage to cook up such good fics every! single! time!#i’m so serious i cried reading san’s one it’s just so image inducing i could imagine everything that was happening and my poor soul couldn’t#take it and i just started sobbing#does that mean san just keeps repeating the cycle over and over again? will he never stop?? that thought just makes everything 10x sadder#aw mingi bless his soul such a sweetheart#i’m just imagining him as the type of guy who while listening to your troubles just looks at you with such LOVE in his eyes#oh i love mingi so much#WOOYOUNG BEING TRUE NORTH i feel stupid for not seeing it coming#and the BACKSTORY the LORE with the parents loren literally how#wooyoung’s one was so he fell first she fell harder :(#now jongho’s one#oh jongho’s one oh i have WORDS#him basically as eric i just hehfjskd giggles#HIS FIRST QUESTION BEING SO SILLY that’s so jongho#what happens with them now tho? do they both meet by the shore each time? or does true love somehow let the two grow a tail/legs whenever#they want or something now? how does their relationship work 🤨#OVERALL loren you have seriously done it again it almost makes me mad how good at writing you are#ateez 🍦
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𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬
nonidol!kang yeosang x f!reader
yeosang doesn't remember your name, but he remembers what kissing you tastes like and how you like your eggs in the morning. just your regular prince charming trying to find his cinderella, or in this case, his passenger princess..?
9.5k (lord.....), nc-17, s2l, frateez au, college au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, kissing, humor, fluff, minimal angst, another cinderella story au/trope(?), drama (i bring i bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma), a girl who is not a girl's girl :l, the barest of proofreading
a/n: this is for the @atzhouse you can't outrage us event! guys if the flirting is lackluster, it's cuz im running out of rizz
“I don't believe you.”—
The last place you expected to end up was in the front seat of some guy's white Lexus while the party raged on inside the ATZ fraternity house just down the street. According to him, he had to run out just before the crowd rolled in, and when he got back, somebody had snatched his parking spot.
—“Okay, but why don't you believe me?”—
The car smelled not like fresh leather, but an enchanting mixture of something like pine and smoked wood. Bitter, yet somehow, refreshing. You bet, even as the alcohol was hitting you, that it was what he smelled like.
His name was Yeosang—the guy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, the owner of this car, and the ATZ fraternity brother you bumped into at his house's own party. That had been just about twenty minutes ago when you'd ended up isolated from your pack of friends, and Yeosang had needed a desperate breather. It seemed he'd been running from someone (question mark), so you asked if he knew where the kitchen was. Eager to get away from whoever it was, he guided you straight to the kitchen and where the secret stash of flavored sojus were.
An offhand comment about wishing you didn't have to miss this one drama episode dropping tonight led to a longer conversation about the dramas you both enjoyed, which somehow landed you in his passenger seat.
The rest was history. Or—you supposed the rest was now.
“Because,” Yeosang said in a tone that sounded a lot like he was saying 'duh’, “you don't look like a biology major.”
He was gorgeous, even if the lighting in the party and out here was jack shit. The way the shadows cut across his face made him look like a faerie torn straight out of one of your old sketchbooks. You were half certain he had pointed ears beneath the cat-eared beanie he wore, but maybe that was just the alcohol doing its thing.
You sputtered out a laugh as he knocked back another gulp of his melon soju. He was more drunk than you were, maybe not by too much because that wouldn't have been fair, but it did take him seven tries to unlock his car seven minutes ago. “What's a bio major s'posed to look like?”
“Mmm…” he hummed, lips pressed together in a line that dug into his cheeks. “Not you.”
It only made you laugh harder. It wasn't even that funny. “That doesn't even make sense!”
“Does it have to make sense?” He squawked. His face shuddered for a moment as if he just experienced a glitch. “I forgot what I was gonna say, but it's the vibe.”
“The vibe,” you parroted in mild amusement. After you swallowed down your next gulp of soju, you gestured to him with the bottle, “Okay, now what about you? Your major, go.”
“I read shit.”
“Who doesn't?”
“Jared, 19,” he replied, dead serious.
Equally serious, you asked with wide eyes, “Really?”
He gave you an emphatic nod back. Really. Now, if you were a little less tipsy, you wouldn't have taken what he said at face value, but tonight was already miles away from your regularly scheduled program.
You pondered on that—the “I read shit,” not the misfortunes of one nineteen year old named Jared. “So if you read a lot of shit, does that make you a literature major? No, wait! I got it; you look like Comparative Lit.”
“Bingo,” he cheered, raising his bottle up into the air. “Wait. What do you mean I look like a comparative lit major? What does a comp lit major even look like?”
“I dunno, but it’s you.”
He pursed his lips into a deadpan at your callback to what he'd said before, and you merely stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult you were. “Touché, my friend. Touché…”
Silence passed between you two for the first time since you met each other. In the distance, you could hear the muffled sounds of the party raging on. It wasn't that you didn't go to parties often; it was more so that you usually went to house parties hosted by friends or friends-of-a-friend. Making it all the way to Greek Row was not something you did every weekend, but a mutual friend—Chungha—knew the ATZ president and got you and your friends in.
Nearly finished with his third bottle (or was it his fourth?...), Yeosang knocked the remainder down his throat with a grimace. With the empty bottle, he set it at his feet on the car floor to join another—the cup holders were already occupied with yours and his second rounds. The first was abandoned on the frat house lawn somewhere.
“I think—” he slurred, blinking slowly at you like a cat, “—that you look like an artist.”
“An artist?” You parroted dumbly and felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “And why would you say that? Vibes?”
“Well, yes!”
You sputtered out a laugh at the way he said that. “Then yes, I am an artist,” you said, emphasizing the latter half of the word so it sounded like “teest” and not “tist.”
Yeosang gave a hoot. “I'm so good at this. Does that—does that mean you can paint me like one of your French girls?” He pulled his lips into an adorable, little smile, the back of his hand poised beneath his chin as he fluttered his lashes.
“I don't think I could do you justice,” you admitted. There was a rather annoying buzz at the back of your brain that was distracting you. With a shake of your head, you refocused your gaze on him. “You're too pretty.”
He preened at the compliment, unconsciously reaching up to adjust his beanie. “Like calls to like then.”
“What does that mean?” Your buzzed-out brain couldn't compute—
“It means that prettiness is attracted to prettiness, and I'm attracted to you.”
You whined, burying your face in your hands. Yeosang giggled to himself, incredibly proud at making you flustered, his knees curling upward to kick his feet in the cramped space. “I don't like you.”
“You don't?”
“No,” you raised your head up with a displeased frown, only to see that his eyes seemed to be twinkling with unrestrained happiness and something else. You weren't in the right state to hyper-analyze the way he looked at you, but it made your heart skip more than just a beat. “It's not fair that you're a literature major.”
“But I'm drunk,” he said innocently.
“That's even worse!”
He grinned boyishly at you, bashfully stretching his limbs and then cupping the back of his neck with a hand. “What if I told you I'm minoring in math?”
You deadpanned. “I don't think that makes me feel any better. You rule both the realms of words and numbers.”
“It doesn't mean I'm good at math,” he guffawed, leaning back in his seat. “It's only there 'cause my mom's a math teacher, and having a math minor makes my parents feel better.”
That sounded familiar… awfully familiar. The thought made you sober a bit, and it seemed your counterpart wasn't so wasted that he didn't notice the shift either.
“Uh oh,” he chuckled nervously, “what'd I say?”
You waved your hand around dismissively. “Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of the opposite—my bio major is sort of to appease my parents and the fine art minor is for my sanity.”
He pressed his lips into a line, nodding in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he drawled. “So you don't… you're not happy? With what you're doing, I mean.”
Maybe it was the way he asked it, but it made the cogs in your head turn. You bit your lip. “I'm happy-ish. It's kind of a lot, but I'll survive.”
“'m sorry I upset you,” he pouted. “But,” he stammered, swallowing, “but I get it. My parents never wanna talk about my major anymore. Pretty sure they're just bitter and disappointed. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them.”
You could tell that it affected him more than he wanted to admit. You wordlessly passed him your half-drunk bottle, and he gladly took a generous sip. When it was back in your hands, you guzzled down the remainder.
The buzz was getting better.
“Well, if they're not proud of you, I am,” you declared, setting the empty bottle at your feet. Your eyes blinked slowly for a moment as you got your bearings again. Maybe… maybe you should stop drinking! Yes, that would be the smart thing to do.
Yeosang hummed. “Thanks,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed over at you from his side of the car. “I'm proud of you, too. You'll be happy one day; it'll always turn out okay, Yn-ie.”
Something warm and fuzzy settled in your chest, like a cat had just curled up there, purring and content.
A thought suddenly popped into your head. “Yeosang, how do you like your eggs?”
He snorted and burst into laughter, coaxing a similar expression out of you. A moment later, you were trying your best to pout at him, “Hey! Don't laugh! I hear it's all the rage on the pick-up line scene.”
“You're trying to pick me up?” He giggled. All memories of the previous topic flew out the car window.
“Well, is it working?”
He licked his lips around a smile, leaning over the center console to rest his cheek against his fist. “Ask me again.”
You took another sip of your soju before returning it to its cupholder. “Okay. Yeosang, how do you like your eggs in the morning?”
“However you'd like them.”
You deadpanned, and that only made him laugh louder. His head tilted back so you caught a glimpse of his canines, before he brought himself back down to Earth. His cheeks looked as flushed as you felt—even in the dim streetlight you could make out the blooms of peony pink across his cheekbones. “Yeo.”
He reached over to pat your head a couple times, though the sloppiness of his movements made it feel closer to two affectionate smacks. “Okay okay. Sorry. How about we say it at the same time?”
“Okay.” That wasn't a bad compromise.
“Okay, one, two, three—”
“Sunny-side up,” you both said at once.
Your eyes and his eyes widened at once, gasps of delight sounding into the quiet car. Could this guy be any more perfect?
“You're not bluffing?” You asked with narrowed eyes.
Yeosang shook his head vigorously. “Mm-mm. I wouldn't lie to you, Yn-ie. Scout's honor,” he slurred, holding his hand up as if he was a boy scout.
You giggled at the gesture, and he broke form to melt into an ooey gooey puddle of liquefied butterflies. For a moment, he just stared at you with a strange look on his face, one that you couldn't quite place when you were in this inebriated state.
You chuckled, shifting your position when one leg started falling asleep. “What’s wr—?”
He leaned forward and—oh. Oh. Those were—his lips were on yours. He had leaned over the console and kissed you. He was kissing you.
And when you didn't kiss him back, he drew backwards, an embarrassed expression painted over the adorable flush on his cheeks. “That—I shouldn't have done that, should I? I'm sorry; I dunno what I was—”
You crushed your mouth against his this time, effectively stealing the apology right off his tongue. He tasted like melon soju, and his touch was gentle as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, cradle your jaw. He was tracing the outline of your features in the dark like he could sketch them in the lines in his mind.
He tasted like the color of amber, warm and bright, but not blindingly so. He was mellow and sweet, with the undertones of the burnt wood in his cologne.
You melded your lips against his mouth like you could engrave him into you, and you were practically half over the middle console already. Yeosang's free hand fumbled backward to find the button on the side of his chair—there. The chair began moving backward with a monotonous brrr sound, and as it moved you couldn't quite keep your lips physically attached to his.
You disconnected from him for what felt like an eternity in order to climb over—shoes knocking against empty soju bottles, ass nearly bumping the horn—and with some clumsy, awkward maneuvering, you were on him again, this time quite literally. You tumbled into his lap, his hands landing on either side of your waist and your hands bracing against the back of his chair.
He loosened a soft groan with the return of your lips to his, and he hauled you down closer to him, until your chests were pressed flush against one another and you couldn't tell which heartbeat was who's. His beanie fell off at some point, but your fingers buried themselves within the dark, silken mass of his hair, a hat in their own right.
When you both pulled away for breath, your chests heaved in tandem to catch it. You settled your cheek against his shoulder while you inhaled the smell of his cologne, much stronger now that you sat against his chest with your nose by his throat. His hand warmed the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your head in an affectionate cradle.
“I don't think I've ever kissed someone like that,” you admitted into the quiet. You suddenly couldn't hear the muffled music blasting from the party in the background anymore.
“Me neither,” he replied, voice hoarse from the kiss. “I've never met someone like you before.”
“Never in your life?”
“Never in my life.”
“So let me get this straight,” drawled Wooyoung with both hands poised at his temples, eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light coming in through the window. There were currently eight people crowded onto President Hongjoong's bed at a time that was far too early to be alive for a group of people who partied until four in the morning. “You're saying that you know this girl's family life, how she likes her eggs in the morning, and how she kisses—but you don't even know her name?”
Yeosang was propped up against the headboard, squeezed between a very unfairly serene-looking Seonghwa and a mildly hungover Hongjoong. Yeosang's bangs were flat against his forehead and he squinted his tired eyes through the strands. “No, that's not what I said. I said that I know her name… it's just not coming to me right now.”
He knew your name. Right? You told him your name, right? He addressed you by your name at least once last night, right?
(If he was being honest, as soon as Yeosang woke up this morning, he started whimsically recalling the events of last night in his head. But once he realized he neither had your number nor remembered your name, he jostled his friends up to invade the president's room for an emergency round table discussion. Who would have guessed their alarm clock would be a very panicked Maltese screaming, “I DON'T REMEMBER HER NAME!”)
“Which pretty much means you don't know her name,” Jongho piped up where he was laying against Yunho's back on the corner of the bed, his eyes closed while he attempted to squeeze in five more milliseconds of sleep.
“Well, do you know who she came with?” San asked. “She probably has at least one mutual friend or else she wouldn't have gotten in.”
Mingi furrowed his brows together. “Not necessarily. The pledges might not have been thorough when checking.”
Hongjoong's eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be there with them at the door, Mingi.”
“Oh, was I?”
Yunho cut in before Hongjoong could tackle Mingi off the bed. He grinned to himself, “Okay, but San has a point. Usually people are only able to sneak in if they're with a group.”
“Awh,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching over to pinch at Yeosang's cheek, “Yeosangie fell in love with a stowaway—ow! Hey! He just bit me!”
“Deserved,” Seonghwa said plainly. He turned his head so as to not have to face Wooyoung's wounded puppy eyes. It was too early for this. “Do you know if she came with anyone, Yeosang-ah?”
Yeosang scrunched his nose up, disgruntled. “No. I'm pretty sure she was looking for her friends when we met… something like that. I remember some things, but not everything.” He pinched the place between his brows in an attempt to piece together his memory of last night. He could remember the way you made him feel—it was the jittery warmth that came with falling, and his heart had never grown wings before like it had around you.
After the kiss, the two of you had sunk into a comfortable, quiet conversation about anything and everything beneath the sun. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable and heard by someone other than his fraternity brothers. You were perfect, for lack of a better word. And he knew a lot of words.
But how could he fucking forget your name?
He was never drinking that much melon soju ever again.
“She's a biology major,” he offered with a defeated sigh, letting his hand fall into his lap.
“What does she look like?” Hongjoong asked.
Yeosang's gaze went up to the ceiling as he recalled what you looked like to his friends. It was pretty dark the entire time he was with you, but there were a few moments when the streetlights hit your face and his conscience was constantly trying to keep his drunk ass from kissing you within the first ten minutes of meeting you. He'd managed to hold it together for a little bit longer before throwing all caution to the wind.
When he was done, San said in light amusement, “I'm just surprised you kissed her first. She must be something then, huh?”
Yeosang couldn't conceal the smile that slowly crept onto his face. “Yeah, she's…” He cleared his throat. “I just don't want last night to be the first and last time I see her.” It couldn't be—just when he thought he clicked with someone, the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to rip you away from him, could it?
“Don't you worry!” Mingi chirped, “We'll help you find your passenger princess.”
Seonghwa snorted. “Passenger princess? What is this, Cinderella?”
“It might as well be,” San chuckled, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Operation: Passenger Princess is a go!”
Yeosang wasn't sure if recruiting his friends’ help was a good or awful decision. But because his past, drunk self hadn't done many favors for his future, sober self, he would take all the help he could get.
You knew the moment you stumbled out of your bedroom and saw your roommate that you were in trouble. It wasn't trouble in the conventional sense; considering her eyes were laughing as she watched your pitiful walk of shame from your room to the shared bathroom, you knew you were not going to hear the end of everything that happened last night ever.
“Not a word,” you said to her as you winced at the blinding bathroom lights.
Her toothbrush hung out of her mouth as she slipped in behind you to spit her toothpaste into the sink. When her mouth was rinsed and clear, she made eye contact with you in the mirror, eyebrows wagging up and down. “So you and Yeosang, huh?”
You glared at her from around your own toothbrush. You would have taken the damn thing out to defend yourself, but you were already late.
Reina took full advantage of your occupied vocal chords. “I never knew pretty frat boys were your type, Yn,” she teased, practically floating out of the bathroom to go check on the state of her espresso in the kitchen.
“Aye hae yuu,” you grumbled around your toothbrush.
“What's that?” She cackled, bringing a hand up to the shell of her ear. “I love you? I love you, too, Yn. But you know who else loves you?—”
“Dompt shae it.”
“Yeosaaaang!”
You loathed the fact that her saying such things made butterflies flap their wings and dance around in your belly. It was simply delusional to think of love when all you and Yeosang did last night was make out in his car and accompany each other in deep, provoking conversation… conversation that definitely didn't make you feel incredibly seen or anything… definitely not.
Finally, you were able to spit your toothpaste out to make your argument. “Okay, first of all, I don't even have his number. And—how could he love me?” As if possession of a phone number could even correlate to love either.
Reina paused, her expression arranging into loud incredulity. “You what? After all I went through to separate the two of you to go home, you didn't exchange numbers?”
Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have disclosed that information—now you just looked stupid.
You lathered up facial cleanser in your hands and on your face. “Look. Exchanging numbers was just the last thing on our minds—” Oh, Yn. Have you ever said something smart?
Reina snorted. “Oh, I know.”
“We didn't just make out,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming beneath your hands. You furiously splashed cool water over your skin before patting your face dry. There likely wasn't much time left before you and Reina had to run to meet your other friends at your weekly volunteering session. “We talked.”
“Uh-huh, and you know that denial is a river in Egypt, right?”
Suffice to say that Reina most definitely did not let your shenanigans from last night go. The two of you managed to reach the food bank sometime before fifteen minutes past your original start time. Everyone else was already stationed and on time, and because you and Reina were the last to arrive, you were sent straight to dishwashing.
As you and Reina pulled on your twin pairs of pink rubber gloves, your friend Mark Lee (and brother with the NCT fraternity) barrelled into the backroom with a dirty ladle in his hands. His head perked up at the sight of you both, a smile blooming on his face. “Well, good morning, Party Animals. How was the ATZ party last night?”
He deposited the ladle into the sink for you to wash while he went to go find a clean one.
“It was cool, but I think Yn would love to tell you all about her experience,” Reina teased, bumping her elbow against your side.
Mark sidled up beside the two of you and leaned in close in proper tea-spilling fashion. “Oh my gosh, did something happen?”
You scowled at Reina, then said to Mark, “Nothing catastrophic—”
“She hooked up with Yeosang!”
You cut her a hard glance. “Reina, I don't think Neptune heard you.”
Mark's eyes went comically wide, jaw slackening. “Yn and Yeosang? That's so wild. Like—like Kang Yeosang?”
“I think? We didn't exactly exchange last names, but why would it be wild? We just kissed and talked.”
“Who kissed who now?” The new voice had you all glancing back over to the kitchen door where another member of the group, Yura, walked in. Yura was Reina's cousin, and the two grew up quite close, so it was natural that they ended up in similar social circles. You and all your other friends got along pleasantly with her. She flashed you all a small smile. “From the sounds of it, I'm guessing you guys had a fun time at the party last night?”
“We did!” Reina chirped.
“Shame you couldn't come with us this time,” you said offhandedly. It wasn't like Yura to miss a party.
Reina cocked her head to the side. “I could've sworn I saw you there though—”
“Ah,” Yura waved her hand to dismiss her cousin's thought. She chuckled, “You're probably mistaking someone else as me; I had that paper I needed to work on last night, remember? But Yn, you and Yeosang?”
You groaned. “I thought we were over this.”
“Dude, we can't not get over this,” Mark quipped back. “Yeosang just doesn't do stuff like that—hook up with people, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Yura chimed in, “I've seen him at a couple other Greek parties with some of my sorority friends and he looks pretty standoffish most of the time. He's usually always with one of his brothers. He's kind of cold, really.”
Mark furrowed his brows. “I wouldn't call him cold; he's just a little shy, is all.”
“My friends told me that a lot of sorority girls chase after him,” Yura said with wide eyes. “They get, like, aggressive about him or something.”
You and Reina exchanged a look. Was that who he was running from last night? “That must be kinda stressful,” you said softly with a small frown.
“Apparently, that's why his social medias don't take DMs unless approved,” she shrugged.
Well, there went your backup plan of finding him on social media. Then again, if he recognized you or your name, would that help if you requested him? That was if you deigned to change your profile picture to yourself and not one of your silly doodles.
You couldn't help the weight that your heart seemed to gain as it sank to the pit of your stomach.
“Well, that's mildly disappointing,” Reina muttered, turning to quickly wash the ladle Mark had just dropped off.
“I just wouldn't want you to get targeted by any of those crazy sorority girls, y'know?” Yura gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves.
You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, no, I—I get it. Thanks, Yura.”
She gave you a sympathetic look. “Of course,” she said. With a wave, she made her way back toward the kitchen door. “Mark, we better get back to work. See you guys at lunch break!”
When she was gone, Mark clapped a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen. I don't really know the guy personally, but me and Wooyoung are pretty tight. I can get in touch with them if you want—”
Baekhyun, the section leader for your session, charged into the kitchen with his arm piled high with dirty dishes. If you didn’t fear for the safety of the porcelain bowl at the top of the stack, you might have chuckled at the scene before you. “Mark! We don't pay you to stand around.”
“Hyung,” Mark huffed exasperatedly as he rushed over to help Baekhyun before the section leader could get knocked over the head by a rogue dish assisted by gravity. “You don't pay us. We're here out of the goodness of our hearts.”
“Well, I don't get paid enough for this,” Baekhyun said once all the dishes were transferred to the sink, and you and Reina were put to work. “Now come on; lots to do!”
Just as Mark was about to follow after Baekhyun, he caught your eyes. “I'm serious about the offer, Yn.”
You smiled. “Thanks, man, but let me think about it and I'll get back to you.”
“Yeah, just lemme know!” And he was gone.
Word broke out that someone in the ATZ household was searching for a girl. Word of mouth was a method of dissemination that could spread like wildfire, leaping from one tongue to one ear to another, leaving only ash and debris behind. And around Greek Row, it became a massive game of Telephone.
But while nearly everyone in the university's fraternities and sororities knew about his strife, Yeosang’s efforts seemed to be for naught. The only thing that emerged from this were more people harping after him, claiming to be 'the one he was looking for.’ None of them were you.
Your name had manifested itself in his head about halfway into the week. He'd been toiling over the theory readings his professor assigned for Thursday's lecture when he'd underlined a word, and it came crashing down upon him with ice cold clarity.
His eyes went wide as he shot up out of his chair, nearly sending Jongho careening off his bed on the other side of the room. “What the—”
“Yn,” Yeosang said. Then he declared a little louder, a giddy smile on his face, triumphant and bright, “Her name is Yn.”
Jongho resettled himself on top of his bed. “Well that narrows things down for us,” he drawled, taking his phone out and typing something out. “I don't suppose you have her last name.”
Yeosang fwumped onto the edge of his bed with his lips pressed into a line. “Dude. I literally just thought of her first name. Do you really think I can come up with—”
“Okay, okay,” Jongho laughed, flicking his wrist at him for a moment before resuming his typing.
“Who're you texting?” Yeosang asked as curiosity drew him across the room to Jongho's side.
His friend sat up so he could peer over his shoulder at the phone screen. “I'm doing the heavy lifting,” he teased. Based on the social media handle at the top of the direct messages channel, Jongho was texting Chungha, a friend of the frat's but a closer friend of President Hongjoong's, and the recently graduated head of the Phi Omega Phi sorority. “Hongjoong hyung mentioned offhandedly that Chungha wanted to get some friends into the party on Friday, so I'm seeing if she recognizes this Yn person you're looking for.”
Yeosang’s eyebrows flicked upward as he settled into a more comfortable position on Jongho’s bed while they awaited Chungha’s response. In the meantime, he pulled out his own phone in an attempt to search for your name amongst his mutuals. He frowned at the lack of a successful search—did you use a different name or did you not have a social media account? Was that why you hadn’t attempted to contact him in the past few days?
For a moment, a shard of self-consciousness pierced through his chest at the prospect that you didn’t want to contact him. Did sobriety make you embarrassed at what happened that night? Had he made you uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability that was in the car—no, the vulnerability was mutual… but maybe—
“Gotcha.”
Yeosang’s head whipped back over to Jongho’s screen. Having your name and major seemed to ring a bell for Chungha, and she forwarded a social media handle, along with a “tell Yeosang good luck ;)”.
“Thank you, Jongho. And bless up, Chungha,” Yeosang muttered as he swiftly input the social media handle into his search bar. There it was—a private art account with your first name in the biography line. There were only one or two people who you both shared mutuals with, which made sense.
His thumb hovered over the request button, and he bit his lip. With little else left to do and his heart banging around in his ribs from the anticipation alone, he clicked the button.
It didn’t take you incredibly long to accept his follow request and to follow him back. (Though, half an hour felt like an eternity when he was so anxious.) He made it painfully obvious that you acted in response, because Yeosang fumbled his phone between his palms like it was a hot potato, before he dropped it and stubbed his toe with it.
Jongho sent him a strange look as he handed the device back to a red-faced Yeosang, who furrowed his brows together to think of an opening direct message to you.
“It doesn't have to be perfect,” Jongho said as he peered over Yeosang's shoulder this time. He had even paused the game he was playing on his phone to stay tuned into the live entertainment.
Yeosang made a face. “Yes, it does.” It had to be the perfect mix of witty and funny and subtle and—
He figured it out.
@/yskang99: how do u like ur eggs?
Jongho released a sound of utter flabbergast, and Yeosang shushed him, both pairs of eyes pinned to the three dots that appeared on the bottom left-hand side of the screen.
@/studioyn: sunny side up
Yeosang broke into a smile, and Jongho's face contorted into pure incredulity. “What kind of security question is that?”
“Inside joke,” Yeosang replied giddily, rising from Jongho's bed to cross over to his side of the room. He collapsed into his desk chair and propped his feet up along the end of his bed.
Jongho scoffed, shifting his lounging position. He threw his friend another incredulous glance before giving up and returning to his game. He'd done his job.
@/yskang99: congrats u passed the test!
@/studioyn: ahh so that was a test? i imagined us doing a virtual handshake tbh
@/yskang99: i like that better actually
@/studioyn: also how did u find me lmao
Yeosang bit his lip through a grin. I have my ways, he typed out cryptically, cheekily.
@/studioyn: wtvr u say ig… 🤨🤨🤨
For a brief moment, Yeosang wondered if he should bring up the concern lingering in his mind—why you hadn't reached out to him. He didn't want to simply assume that he was “popular” enough that just anybody knew who he was, but he was also aware that most people were able to track him down on social media. But would that kill the vibe? He liked the energy.
@/studioyn: i can't get a read on whether or not ur any different than how u were drunk
@/yskang99: would that matter?
@/studioyn: not particularly, no, but i've met people who r
@/yskang99: no i get that, i've met my fair share too :/
He began typing out slowly: I missed you… Then he swiftly amended it to: I missed talking to you.
@/studioyn: awhh wait ik we've only technically spoken the one time, but i missed talking to u too yeo :’)
A smile split his face from ear to ear. Would you wanna hang out again? Only if you're comfortable, of course.
He watched the three dots appear, then disappear. You were thinking and his heart was sinking.
Finally, your response came in. I'd love to, but I don't wanna disappoint you with my god awful schedule this next week.
@/yskang99: what abt the weekend? something low stakes maybe?
@/yskang99: my brothers and i r going to the nct house on sat
@/studioyn: oh!! im actually close friends w mark lee :] i'll see if i can drag my friends along, and we can link up there?
The thought of seeing you again, even if it was at another dumb Greek party, made electricity zip through his veins. His stomach filled to the brim with butterflies, and he had to shift his position because of how much it tickled.
@/yskang99: yeah sounds great :D i'll look forward to seeing u
@/studioyn: same here yeo :’))
@/studioyn: how's ur week been so far?
Yeosang leaned back in his chair again, propping his elbows on the armrests to sink into a comfortable position. He had a feeling he might be here awhile, but he would sit here all night if it meant talking to you.
“Yn! We're gonna be late!”
You nearly jolted at the sound of Reina's voice carrying through the other side of your bedroom door. You dropped your phone onto your bed, racing to finish up the rest of your makeup. “You can never be late to a Greek party!” You countered, swiping your thumb over the pigment you just put on your lips.
Your bedroom door opened just as you were slipping a chain necklace around your collar. Reina poked her head in, her eyes looking you up and down. “Ooh-la-la,” she gushed with a teasing smile. “Someone's gotten all dolled up. I wonder who for…”
You rolled your eyes and ignored the obvious warmth rising to your face. “I just felt like it,” you defended weakly while spritzing a light mist of perfume over your neck and wrists. You stood up from your desk to collect your wallet, keys, and lip gloss to dump into a purse, then went over to retrieve your phone.
The screen displayed another message from Yeosang, no doubt continuing the conversation you had to abruptly pause because you would be late for the NCT party. This was going to be the second Greek party in two weeks—a record for your books. But you had a feeling it was going to be a good time like last week, you were sure of it.
As you skimmed the message Yeosang sent, you slipped out of the room to join Reina in the main living space. She casted you a pointed look with arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed together.
“What?” You blinked over at her innocently.
“You're never gonna see your boy at this rate,” she said as the two of you picked out your shoes for the night.
You sent a text answering Yeosang and letting him know you would be at the party soon. “He's not 'my boy,’” you said.
“Right. He's your man.”
You hated how hard it was to keep the giggle in your throat down. It was embarrassing how you smiled just then, too, turning your head away from a smug Reina.
God, he was just a guy; how did you get so head-over-heels after just one night? It had to be the fact that you'd been texting him nonstop over the past few days. Though you were busy and exhausted, you continued to check your phone all throughout the days and stayed up long into the nights just to talk to him. He had you hook, line, and sinker.
At some point, you'd forgotten what Yura warned you about on Saturday.
Your friends picked you and Reina up in one of their family minivans. A round of greetings went up as you clambered in behind Reina, and your friend asked where her cousin was tonight if she wasn't carpooling with the rest of you.
“She said she was at her sorority friend's house,” Sieun said offhandedly from the driver's seat. The minivan door closed on its own with a mechanical whirring sound. “She's probably at the party already.”
Some nights, parties called for a pregame session, while others (not unlike this one) was attacked raw. Sieun parked the minivan about a block outside of Greek row where there were spaces between cars along the curbs and where there was less of a chance of her accidentally running over a drunk partygoer stumbling into the street. The party was already in full swing with neon green strobe lights blazing aggressively through the front windows, and Gasolina blasting at nothing less than one hundred percent speaker volume.
You felt your phone vibrate in your hand as Reina grabbed your hand to avoid instantly losing you in the crowd.
@/yskang99: im on the second floor where there's less people 😋😋 they've got a nice balcony we can hide on!!
“Mark said they've got spiked Capri Sun somewhere in here!” Reina shouted into your ear.
You nodded your head vigorously. “Let's find it then!”
@/studioyn: gonna grab hard caprisun and then head up!! do u want some??
@/yskang99: surprise me w a flavor, pretty pls x
You grinned to yourself and slid your phone into your purse to focus on the task at hand.
The NCT fraternity house wasn't a completely unknown landscape to you and Reina. Being friends with one of its brothers and friends-by-association with all the rest, you'd popped by more than a few times. You could likely navigate this house with your eyes closed; that was what it was like weaving through the dark rooms and throngs of people squeezed together like sardines in a can, anyway.
Along yours and Reina's trek to the kitchen, you gained a couple people in your conga line of linked hands, NCT's own Xiaojun and Jungwoo. NCT frat brothers always pregamed, so the two brothers were already tipsy and giggled about your kindergarten field trip line (with Reina being dubbed the poor kindergarten teacher tasked with keeping you together).
When you arrived at your destination, it didn't take long for you to lose both Xiaojun and Jungwoo to the game of Texas Hold 'Em being played at the breakfast table. The singular lightbulb overheard made it feel like a smoke-filled backdoor gambling den.
“Aha!” You cheered after playing a game of mystery cooler roulette, and opened the cooler lid that held the spiked Capri Sun juice pouches on ice.
“Mine!” Reina snatched up the last cherry flavored one, the shiny aluminum slippery and ice-cold as she impaled the opening with the thin, yellow straw.
You grabbed a Pacific Cooler flavored pouch for yourself, and a second for Yeosang.
“Ah, is that for the man of your dreams?” Reina said between sips, her pouch already half empty.
You sent her a look. “He has good taste, which means he'll probably appreciate Pacific Cooler as much as I do.”
“As long as it's not lemonade,” came a voice to your left. There stood a rather tall and lean man, his warm smile enunciated by the dim kitchen lighting as the green strobe lights from the living room painted across his face. “I can't deal with sour shit,” he explained, making a face.
You laughed. “That's valid. Fruit Punch is a classic though.”
“Can't argue with that,” he replied, leaning down to pick his poison for the night. He stabbed a straw into his pouch of strawberry kiwi juice, then arched an eyebrow at you. “I feel like I know you. Do I know you?”
“Hey,” Reina chimed in as she leaned over your shoulder, “you're with the ATZ frat, aren't you? I recognize you from Twister last week.”
He smiled sheepishly from around his straw. “Ah… haha, not my best moment, but yes. I'm Yunho.”
“Reina,” your friend replied.
“Yn,” you added on.
Yunho's expression jerked as if he'd just been delivered an electric shock. He waved his pointer finger at you. “Oh my god, you're Yeosang's girl!”
Your eyes shuddered in surprise. Yeosang's girl. “Sorry?” You stammered. There was an insane amount of possessive pronouns being used tonight, buy you definitely weren't complaining about it, and could he perhaps say that again—
“Yeah, he won't shut up about you.” Yunho slurped up the rest of his juice pouch, draining and flattening the life out of it in record time. “He loves Pacific Cooler, by the way.”
He took his leave then, saying nothing else to you and Reina except for shooting you a pair of finger guns like saying 'go get em, tiger!’
Reina wheezed, draping herself over you for a moment. “Oh—my god! Good thing Yeosang's just as down in the trenches as you are.”
“Don't do this to me, Reina,” you whined and dragged her along out of the kitchen toward the second floor staircase. “I don't need encouragement; the crush is enough!”
“It's never enough,” she declared with her pointer finger up in the sky. “You are gone, my friend! Gone, I say.”
You patted her head as you both began your ascent up the stairs. “Alrighty; then gone, I am. Do you remember where the balcony is on this floor?”
She hummed. “Ooh! Somewhere by Johnjae's room, abouts. I just remember because Mark told us how—”
“Right—the sophomore year Romeo and Juliet reenactment,” you snorted. You couldn't wrap your head around the batshit crazy things that occurred around these parts. “Who convinced Doyoung to play Paris anyway?”
She made a noncommittal noise. “Must've been bribed—oh, there it is, but I think there's a couple out there already…”
There was most definitely a couple on the balcony. Their outlines were silhouettes against the residual strobe lights shining up from downstairs, so it was a little too dark to make out who they were. They seemed close—the girl was all over the boy, the latter trying to hold her up by her waist. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, and for a moment, you were glad someone was taking care of her.
But when she leaned in for a kiss, green light glanced across their faces to reveal their features to you. It was only a split second, but it was all you needed.
“Reina,” you exhaled in shock, turning away from the balcony with enough speed to nearly give you whiplash.
She didn't question you, as you both careened back down the hall from where you came from, heading for one of the open bedrooms on this floor to collect yourselves. When the two of you were out of earshot of the balcony, she hissed under her breath in utter disbelief, “Yura?”
You'd seen it nearly clear as day, too. That was Yura kissing Yeosang.
Your head spun as you shouldered your way into Mark's and Haechan's room, their names plastered on the door in foam letter stickers from the craft store. As Reina closed the door and turned on the lights, you sat down in Mark's desk chair attempting to make sense of what you and Reina just witnessed.
Yeosang and Yura? But wasn't Yura the one who warned you that chasing after Yeosang was a risk because of how many others were, as well? Why would…
Oh.
Well, now you just felt stupid.
Reina dragged over Haechan's desk chair to settle in front of you, her expression less enraged than before, and more concerned over what she was reading off of your face. “Hey, don't do that. Don't think like that.”
“You don't know what I'm thinking,” you murmured, setting the untouched juice pouches on the desk.
“You're thinking that you're stupid.”
“Okay, maybe you do know what I'm thinking.” You inhaled, then exhaled slowly, leaning forward onto your knees. “I don't really know what to think or assume.”
Reina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “That's okay. I don't think I really understand what I saw either.”
“But that was Yura, right?”
She bobbed her head again. “That was my cousin, yeah.”
“Would it be fair to even think that she told me all that shit last week to discourage me from seeing him?” You didn't enjoy thinking that another person would have such malicious intentions without understanding their point of view, especially someone you considered yourself friends with.
“Well,” Reina drawled, “I think we both saw what we saw, and Yura was acting strangely about it on Saturday. It would be fair if you were hurt by it; I think your feelings have been clear.”
You gave a small nod. “Do you think he…?”
“I'm not sure, hon.”
You resolved to talk to him about it. If anything, you had these juice pouches left to console yourself, but you wanted to make sure you knew where his feelings laid. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't harbor even a glimmer of hope that this was all a misunderstanding, and that the kiss was an accident and didn't matter.
You and Reina left the relative safety of Mark and Haechan's bedroom to go find Yeosang. There weren't any new messages between either of you since the Capri Sun exchange, and you thought about texting him on his whereabouts.
The balcony by Johnny and Jaehyun's room was empty now, barren of any evidence somebody was there in the first place.
You and Reina wandered back down to the main floor. The party was nowhere near over; the night was still young. Hope was sinking fast in your stomach as the two of you traveled from room to room in search of him, but with no luck. Even asking around was useless.
“Text him,” Reina encouraged, as the two of you sipped on the juice pouches that were supposed to be for you and him.
She held your spiked juice while you texted him.
As time passed, and a response had yet to come through, you tossed yours and Reina's flattened Capri Sun pouches into the nearest garbage can.
If he wasn't going to answer, then maybe you would just go home for the night. You had a lot to think about.
Defeated, you let Reina sweep you under her arm and guide you to the front door. “Let's go home, hm?” She said, rubbing your shoulder.
On your way to the front door, you paused. You thought you heard someone calling your name—
You turned around to find Mark barreling toward you through the crowd with another guy at his side. “Mark?” You shouted over the music.
“Hey, we've been looking all over for you,” he said. Nodding to his friend, he told you, “This is Wooyoung, by the way, the ATZ brother I'm friends with.”
“Yeosang's been looking for you,” Wooyoung said in earnest, eyes as wide as Mark's. Had they been looking for you as much as you were looking for Yeosang?
Something like hope sparked in your chest again—you were at odds. The fight had nearly dissipated from your blood and you were ready to go home. But if he was trying to find you… it must be worth it then, right?
“Where is he?” You asked.
It was nearing midnight by the time you settled yourself on the concrete curb outside the ATZ frat house just down the block from the target being thrown at the NCT house. With everyone over there, no wonder it was quiet enough to finally hear yourself think. With the coming of deep autumn, a slight breeze wafted by that drifted over your skin and raised goosebumps on your arms.
You heard gravel crunching from behind you, coming down the ATZ driveway, and before you could turn your head to look, a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. You held your breath, fingers finding the lapel to keep it from slipping as you glanced over at your counterpart.
Yeosang lowered himself onto the curb next to you, mimicking your position with his knees bent and arms resting upon them. “I—my phone died,” he said lowly.
“Oh.” That took care of at least two of your questions.
“Is there—” He stopped himself, amending his statement, “There's something on your mind.”
Understatement of the century. You pulled his jacket around you, the intertwining scents of alcohol and his cologne lingering on the collar. “I was going to meet you at the balcony, and I was there, but… but I saw you and Yura, and…”
It was his turn to say “oh.” He angled his body toward you now until his knees bumped against yours and he was muttering out an apology he didn't need to say. He laid his upper body over his arms that were folded onto his knees and peered up at you through lengthy lashes.
He was waiting for you to finish.
You swallowed, following his lead and turning your body toward him. “I saw her kiss you,” you said, the sound barely audible to anybody but you and him. “Reina and I went somewhere to kind of just soak in what we saw, and then we went back out to find you so I could talk to you about it, but we couldn't find you.”
“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed together. “It—it didn't mean anything. She did try to kiss me, but I pushed her away before she could.”
You believed him. You loosened a small chuckle from your lips. “Y'know, it sounds silly to me now, but last week she told me that there were a number of girls who were pursing you and were very aggressive about it.”
He snorted. “If there were any, I only know of one.”
“She…?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, lips pursing. “I know she's liked me for a while, but I've made it clear I don't see her the same way. At last Friday's party, I was actually trying to lose her in the crowd when I found you.”
Your eyes widened. “So she was there?” Then Reina had actually seen her cousin at the party; Yura had lied about where she was.
“She told me tonight that she was scared about me liking you more than her,” Yeosang said as he lifted his body back up to rest his cheek against his fist. “She was really drunk—which was why you probably saw me trying to hold her up—and then she… tried to kiss me. I pushed her away, and one of her friends found us, so I handed her over and went to get some air.”
And that was why you couldn't find him. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. “Are you—are you okay? I'm so sorry she did that to you.”
The corners of his lips tugged upward in a reassuring smile. “I'm alright, thank you. And it's not your fault.”
“I know, but still,” you insisted. “Your boundaries were violated, and it makes me feel so icky that I've called her a friend of mine, and—what?”
Your words came to a screeching halt when you realized that Yeosang was just smiling at you. Or rather, gazing at you, admiring you. It was whatever he did whenever his eyes possessed a set of twin jewels in his irises that needed no light to glitter like gold; and when his grin softened at the corners by a tenderness that knocked the wind out of you, all words and systems failed you.
You recognized this look, except this time, you weren't drunk.
“I'm really happy I met you,” he said in your silence. “And I'm happy I got to see you again.”
You nearly melted. You smiled back at him, replying quietly, “Couldn’t have said it any better. Thank you for being honest with me.”
“And thank you for believing me.” He reached for your hand, his movements slow as if giving you an opening to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't, and you closed the remaining space to link your fingers and press your palms together.
You and Yeosang shared mutual smiles in the dim lighting outside his fraternity house. Your heart beat had quickened a considerable amount now that he was so close to you again.
You cleared your throat. "Just to be clear though—when you said she was scared about you liking me more than her—?"
His smile reached his eyes and turned them into upturned crescent moons. "I'm not scared," he said, "that I like you more than I have ever liked her." By a landslide.
Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. "Good," you smiled. "That's good, because I like you a whole lot, too."
“Do you wanna get out of here?” Yeosang inclined his chin toward where his car was parked a couple vehicles down. “Properly this time, now that we're not completely wasted?”
You laughed. “I would love nothing more.”
Pleased, he helped you to your feet. You must have stood up far too quickly though, because the blood rushed up to your head in a riptide current. You swore as the vertigo hit you, and your footing stumbled.
“Woah, careful there, pretty,” he murmured, his low voice by your ear as he steadied you with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other around your waist.
Oh, there went your heart… it flew up to halo around Yeosang's head, and it wasn't yours anymore—
“You okay?” He mused.
You cleared your throat, straightening. “Yeah, I'm great,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head toward your chest.
A warm, fond chuckle left his mouth. “Cute,” he murmured. He lifted your chin up so you would look at him, his eyes darting down toward your mouth, and yours mirroring his movements. “I was wondering…”
“You can kiss me,” you blurted out, ignoring the utter leap in your pulse and the heat crawling up the back of your neck.
You tasted his smile as he leaned over to seal his mouth over your own, a long awaited return to the place that felt just right. You breathed him in, inhaled him, devoured him whole—you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer just as his hands pressed you flush against him.
In the distance against the heavy house music in the background, a cheer went up into the night sky.
You and Yeosang parted only to crane your heads in the direction of the noise, only to find what looked like a gathering of your friends and his friends hooting and applauding like it was New Years.
“OPERATION: PASSENGER PRINCESS WINS!” The guy from earlier, Wooyoung, practically howled up at the sky.
You pressed your face against Yeosang's shoulder as he groaned. “I am so sorry about them,” he chuckled through a grimace, lips grazing over your crown.
You laughed along with him. “My friends are also among the guilty party, Yeo.”
He kept his arm around your waist and you kept your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked away from your friends and toward his car. Contentment curled itself up over your chest again, and it nestled in deep, as if it planned to stay awhile.
“By the way,” you piped up as he unlocked his car.
“Mhm?”
You opened the passenger side door and leaned over the top of it to ask, “What the hell is Operation: Passenger Princess?”
Yeosang sputtered out a laugh and his cheekbones burned red. “How about we save that for our third date?”
You blinked, lips parting.
Yeosang grinned impishly. “Close that mouth, pretty, or I'll close it for you.”
Your jaw snapped closed, and his laugh echoed against the houses along this street. You climbed into the car after him, flustered beyond words. “I don't like you,” was all you could come up with.
“I'm sure you don't.”
a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed! also, the plan is to try and write another wooyo frat au as well, so pray for me...
atz m.list
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so i js finished re-reading biker!san with a friend n we NEED to know if san plays w reader or not
could you give a brief summarisation of how their story ends (or possibly a pt.2 👀)?
ahaha i read it again and i don't think i can do a full oneshot but what about a scenario? 👀
badboybiker!san x photographer!reader: (pt 1 here)
[recap: you're a photographer trying to get a shot of the golden hour for a little competition when a stranger offers to help you in any way he can. since he's a biker, you think his silhouette would make for a perfect shot and you ask him to model for you. you promise to treat him if you win some prize and he accepts on the condition that he let you take around on his bike. when he tells you his name- choi san- you recognise him as the 'bad boy' of the neighbourhood. even knowing that you should avoid him, you can't resist his charms and get familiar with him thru texts. you take him to the dinner and he gives you a ride home and when you mention that you would like to take a shot of the river next time, he asks if he can tag along- as an 'assistant'. you smile in answer]
one thing about choi san is that he knows how to get his way.
in the past few weeks, you learned a few facts about him- that his bike is his baby and no one can touch it without his permission, that only a selected few get to ride on it (which makes you wonder how you got into that list so quickly) and that he is a very fun person to be around. he has manners, he definitely knows how to treat a woman and he might be a little too good at it.
what you also learned from your friends was that he was the notorious playboy of the town, rumoured to have broken the hearts of many and having a repute for getting into fights, being involved with the wrong company and whatnot. you told yourself that these are just 'rumours' because what you heard is very different from what you've seen firsthand.
though... he is a flirt, whether intentional or not. you've convinced yourself that you wouldn't become another woman on his list if he is that sort of a person, that it is possible for the two of you to be 'just friends', however loose the definition might be.
because if you were just friends, you wouldn't be getting excited whenever you heard the buzzing of your phone around midnight. if you were just friends, you wouldn't feel disappointed to see someone else texted you or you wouldn't be disappointed if he didn't reply within a few hours. if you were just friends, your heart wouldn't skip a beat every time you saw that beautifully sculpted face of his with those dark tendrils of hair falling on his forehead, messed up from his helmet. you wouldn't be shy when you wrapped your arms around his toned, strong waist when on the bike or when you grabbed his muscular arms, realising just how broad he was. you wouldn't want him to continue teasing you, smiling at you, tucking your hair back so casually or leaning in to whisper things in your ears with that goddamned smile of his- even when the two of you were alone.
the thing was... that he caught your eye and now you couldn't get him out of your head. he claimed to be obsessed with you these days because you were funny and made him laugh like no one else, because you were natural and didn't feel like you were putting up a fake persona in his presence, because he could always talk about anything that weighed on his mind without any judgement. you told him you'd heard things about him and he asked you if you believed them.
"if there was any truth to it, you wouldn't be a completely different person from what i've heard."
but he was. and he felt so fucking guilty about hiding it from you. when you spotted a bruised lip and a cut on his cheekbone, you attended to him without questions. you believed him when he lied and told you that he had a little fall from his bike (he had a fight, actually) and he let you scold him for not being careful. when you worriedly scanned his body for other signs of injuries, he let your hands travel all over his body. and when he held your wrists to stop you because he couldn't take it anymore, he convinced himself that it really wasn't different with you, that he really only wanted to ruin you because he was so tempted by your naivety, that you would soon be one of the women he had played with. he kissed your wrist while repeating that mantra, watching your lips part in surprise.
that night, he tried to reason with himself. you were too good a person to lose by his foolish antics. you were a keeper, you were precious and if he made a foolish mistake, he would forever regret it.
that doesn't stop him from treading on dangerous lines. and he could blame you for initiating it, blame you for kissing him first and involving yourself with him when the phone in his pocket was still buzzing with texts he never responded to, with the number of people that either wanted to fuck him up or fuck him.
and you... you would blame yourself too. because how could you hold back? how could you not give in and simply kiss the boy who sat on the riverside beside you, talking with you as if you both had nowhere else to be? how could you not hold his handsome face and kiss his plump lips when he told you how much you meant to him and how he was afraid that he would make a mistake?
if he was afraid of making a mistake, then you would in his stead. all you wanted was to be with him, to not be held back by the rumours or the warnings of your friends, to listen to your heart for once, no matter how foolish that may be. so when he looked at you with those eyes, looking like a stray cat that just needed a little love, someone who would tend to him... all the hesitation left your body as you held his face and kissed his lips, the sound of the river and the wind soothing your nerves. he didn't kiss you back. you drew away- had you really made an irreversible mistake-
"you don't know what you're getting yourself into."
that voice. that voice that you only heard when he talked about himself- his warning voice.
"why don't you show me then? what am i getting into?"
and that was the final push for san- his vision almost blackened for a second as desire crept through every nerve in his body and he crashed his lips on yours, earning a surprised groan from you. soon, you were kissing him back and moulding your body to his, letting your arms snake around his neck while his hands traced every part of your body, determined to not leave a single place untouched. the way he kissed was all-consuming- rushed, desperate, passionate and needy. when you broke contact for air, he started littering kisses all over your face, trailing from your jaw to your neck-
"san- sannie. we have all the time in the world."
that prompted him to pause- and perhaps, you shouldn't have stopped him when his lips were attached to your neck because he simply switched his speed, gently kissing and sucking into the crevice of your neck, making you arch your back. he held your body flush to his, gripping your thigh and shifting you so that you were almost in his lap, all the while continuing with his administrations. you took that chance to let your hands creep up his neck, hold him and caress his hair- those soft hair you always wanted to touch. you kissed his temple while he continued to kiss your neck, only drawing away when he was satisfied, grinning at the sight of the bruising spot.
you, however, didn't feel like grinning back, not when you were too absorbed in the overwhelming feeling of your heightened senses. not when your stomach flipped uncontrollably. not when your hands, off their own accord, traced his toned chest, sliding down to his stomach to hold his waist and look at him.
"i want you."
san felt his heart sink- what had he done-
"i want you. all of you. not just your kisses and your body, but your heart, choi san. i want your heart."
did he think that he would ruin you? yes.
but did he, for a short second, perhaps a moment of enlightenment, think that you would ruin him?
absolutely. and he should have known better than to kiss you in answer.
he should have known better than to take you home that night.
he should have known better than to accept your invitation inside your house because no one was home.
he should have known better than to accept everything you offered him in the spur of the moment.
and he should have known better because once he got a taste of you... he couldn't stop.
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thoughts on this choi san?
(quality is low but)
quality may be low but that's the highest quality ultra 4k hd man ever to exist on this earth and i'm so down for him-
and in this fit?? biker san??? i've got cute little collection too hehe
you wanna know my thoughts? biker san, bad boy of the neighbourhood who comes across you by chance when you're out with your camera, trying to capture a photo of the landscape in the golden hour for a little competition- nothing fancy, you just finally managed to gather the guts and enter a competition with this new skill/hobby.
you can't seem to get the perfect shot. like everything is perfect- the sun looks absolutely breathtaking with the pastel hues of the sky, the saturation is perfect, the main road is mostly empty- lack of traffic which might be what's making this shot look empty. the road is reflecting the sunlight beautifully too, but you just need a little something-
you were so focused on changing the settings of your camera and sulking that you almost didn't hear the sound of the heavy bike rolling behind you until it came to a pause and you realised it wasn't bg noise. you weren't sure what you were expecting but this was not it- the flashy jacket and helmet threw you off.
"looks like you're having a little trouble," the man said as he took off his helmet and you internally wowed when he stopped ruffling his hair and finally looked at you- all sharp angles and perfectly sculpted that softened into something sweet when he smiled a little. "couldn't help but find your sulking cute when i stopped by the signal."
"oh," you finally exhaled, not realising you had been almost holding your breath. "yeah, um... yeah," you looked at the camera and then back at him, finding him grinning at you and you felt flustered- he must be finding your inability to form a proper sentence quite funny. you straightened, "i'm just trying to take a shot of the golden hour but it looks empty."
"i see," he looked in the direction you pointed. "i don't know much about photography, but is there any way i can help? i could take you to a better location if that's what you want."
"that's a kind offer... but i'm not sure i would want to get on a bike with a stranger," you politely declined.
"of course," he nodded, understanding.
"but..." you scratched your chin. "there's another way you could help. do you mind being a model for my shot? i'd like to capture your silhouette- it would look perfect."
he raised his brows, wondering if there was a compliment hidden somewhere there. "uh... i haven't tried that but i think i could pose with your help?"
"yes, thank you," you sighed in relief and he finally relaxed. you asked him to just stand in the middle of the road when he's sure it's safe and there's no traffic, and to simply look in the distance. take off his helmet. play with the bike. surprisingly, he was quite good at it and you wondered if this was a flirting tactic in his book.
but you soon got your answer- when you showed him his photos and he reacted with surprise, you knew then that it was his first time actually posing with the bike. "it's definitely you, it can't be me."
"i only clicked a photo, you were the one who made it pretty," you told him for the umpteenth time, cheeks hurting from smiling and laughing as you scrolled through the photos and chose the best shot. you told him about your competition entry just now and he got all anxious, saying if you had told him earlier he would have tried better but you insisted he did a great job anyway.
"tell you what- if i win this, even 2nd or 3rd prize... i'll treat you to dinner."
"on one condition," he smiled.
"what?"
"if you like me by the end of the dinner enough to trust me a little, let me drop you home on my bike."
you considered him. was it something he was used to offering people?
"i get to be your first model, and you get to be the first passenger," he told you. you found yourself smiling at that and you nodded slowly, both of you caught in a trance as you stared at each other, lost in trying to process a gazillion thoughts in your heads. you finally broke the silence and asked for his contact number.
"your name?"
"choi san."
suddenly, you're frozen in your spot and you manage a weak smile, praying he didn't detect that little pause. because there's no way he's the choi san. the 'bad boy' you've heard so much about from your friends-- just what had the told you? something about him being a biker, yes, and then?? you can't seem to recall and you internally curse yourself for tuning them out whenever they ranted about boys. you wished you had actually paid attention, but all you know is that he's not supposed to be good news.
but here he is, with his innocent smile and curious eyes. is this a facade? a trap? you can't tell, because you genuinely don't recall what you've heard about him. you've def seen him ride his bike around- it was odd how many people rode bikes here, you thought when you moved to the neighbourhood a few months ago. if he's the playboy they say he is, you'll have to tread cautiously.
"thank you again," you grinned at him, the suspicion in his eyes disappearing. "i'll text you when they announce the winners."
"you did a great job," he patted your shoulder. "if you don't win, i'm treating you anyway."
you laughed at that- a genuine laugh. "offer accepted."
you might regret that phrase. in the week that followed, you got closer through texts and you learn more about who he is (with you). and then on the day they announce the winners, before you text san, you finally call your friend and ask him about the infamous biker so when you sit before him, you know who you're facing.
but learning that he's a notorious playboy who's way too messy to get tangled with doesn't stop you from having a good time at the dinner you treat him to. and when you get on the bike with him, you think it's the most thrilling moment of your life as he races through the streets and alleys. so thrilling that you ask him to take the longer route and he obeys, showing you how the river looks at night- a blur of colourful lights being reflected on the surface, something you'd like to take a shot of. you tell him that when you make him drop you outside your block.
"can i take you there then, when you decide to go?" he asks. "as an assistant this time?"
your smile is his answer.
[bonus]
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hii bunny! 🤍🤍
i was wondering if you maybe could write something angsty with mingi? like he’s had a long day and snaps at you a little after seeing your clothes on the floor or something.. like it would never bother him on a normal day but it’s just been a long day for him
it’s not too harsh but it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him have that tone with you so obviously it’s a lot for you 🫣 it doesn’t take him long to realize and regret it but by the time he does you’re already outside on the verge of tears and getting some fresh air.. he basically panics and texts you and calls you 😭 there’s no answer for around 10 minutes and just as he’s about to go outside and look for you, not even bothering throwing an hoodie on, he opens the door and sees you standing there with a little bag with his favorite snacks that you bought for him and he immediately starts apologising
sorry if this is quite specific i just hope it helps a little with your ideas! if you want to change anything you can! you can add smut and make it angsty or you can make it sweet and soft.. maybe even both 🤷♀️
i feel like he’s so gentle and definitely would love his partner too much, and just the thought of that he’s upset them could kill him
i cried writing this so i hope you enjoy it 🫡
——————————————————————————
to say that mingi’s day was hard would be an understatement. he barely slept the previous night, the constant beeping of the fire alarm begging for new batteries that they didn’t yet have keeping him awake into the early hours of the morning. he thinks it was sheer exhaustion that sent him to sleep at just gone 4am, and he was equally exhausted when san woke him two hours later for practice. he had half a mind to tell his friend to fuck off and just go back to sleep, but then he heard the beep of the fire alarm and decided he had no chance. he was going to have to stay awake.
then came practice, which was never easy, but for some reason was so much worse today. it started with yunho, who was being so much stricter than usual, jaw clenching and eyes filling with fire if anyone even dared to get a single step wrong. with mingi’s tired brain, he wasn’t afraid to admit that most of those glares were aimed at him; intricate footwork is more difficult when you can hardly string two thoughts together, it seems. annoyance doesn’t help with that either, yet with every pointed look at yunho gets him, he feels his blood boiling more and more.
then you have the troublemakers who seemed to make it their sole purpose today to annoy every single other person in that room. san and wooyoung were naturally loud people, but today they seemed to have the dial turned up to twelve. of course, yeosang was dragged into it too, offering quiet, but not unheard, snarky comments to go along with whatever nonsense the other pair were babbling about. mingi wasn’t sure how much more of that high-pitched cackle he could stand before it made his achy head explode.
and last, but certainly not least, there was hongjoong, perhaps mingi’s biggest issue out of his members. he too seemed to be in a bad mood, but unlike mingi who had yet to retaliate to any of the shit show going on around him, hongjoong just couldn’t seem to shut his mouth. someone misstepped? he’d yell at them. someone misspoke? he’d yell at them. it was just a constant wall of sound coming from his leader and mingi wasn’t sure just how much more he could take until…
“everyone just go,” hongjoong groans, anger and frustration laced through his features. “it’s clear no one is taking it seriously today so just go!”
a miracle.
mingi wastes no time in grabbing his bag and running out of the practice room without even a glance back at his members. perhaps later he’ll text them and let them know where he is, but for now he just needs you. he needs your arms to wrap around him and keep him warm as he sleeps. he needs your voice to float around his brain as he drifts away. he needs you.
he’s thankful that you live close because before he knows it, he’s at your door, fishing your key from his pocket. he fiddles with it excitedly, scraping it against the door a few times by accident before finally slipping it into the keyhole. he twists it and pushes it open, expecting to find you buzzing around your apartment like a cute little bumble bee.
instead he’s met with silence and darkness, curtains still drawn and your lively little self nowhere to be seen. there’s pots in the sink, mess strewn across the floor and the trash bag from last night still propped up by the door. mingi lets out a long sigh.
he knows it’s wrong of him to feel annoyed by all of this, and normally he wouldn’t. it’s just after the day he’s had, all he wanted was to cuddle up to you in a nice tidy, stress-free apartment. now he has to take your load on his shoulders as well. he has to pick up your pieces whilst he’s still desperately trying to hold all of his together. but this is it; this is his last straw, and the irritation and frustration he’s been barely holding back all day suddenly bursts free of its dam. he cant stop himself as he kicks off his shoes, not caring where they go (it’s not like it’ll make any difference with the state your apartment in is anyway) and storms his way down the hallway to your bedroom.
your door is already open, and through it he can see you still in bed. you’re curled up under the quilt, just like he has wanted to be all day. just like he hasn’t been able to because he has been busy. for some reason it only fills him with more annoyance, and he steps over the threshold into your room and slams the door behind him.
he can see that the sound startles you, but he can’t find it in him to care. he just stares down at you, a mixture of anger and disappointment twisting his features as you groggily sit up to look at him. your eyes are red, as are your cheeks, but mingi just brushes it off. the painful pang in his chest upon seeing you like that is hardly enough to outweigh everything else he feels.
“really?” he bends down to pick up a t-shirt before holding it up to show you. you stare at it blankly, not sure what he’s trying to get at.
“what’s wrong, mingi?” your voice is strained as if you’d been crying recently. if mingi wasn’t so blinded by everything, perhaps he would’ve noticed how fragile you seem to be. perhaps he’d be able to take a step back and see that you need him to comfort you, not berate you. it’s a shame his head is too full of his own feelings to even consider yours.
“what’s wrong?” he scoffs, throwing his arms up in exasperation, “this! everything!” he gestures wildly around your room as if it explains anything. “i don’t need to deal with this shit right now, baby! i can’t!”
he watches as your brows furrow in confusion, hurt washing over your features. there’s something in his that tells him that it’s enough, that he’s said and done too much already, but there’s still more on the tip of his tongue and he needs to get it out of him before he bursts.
“i have enough on my plate without having to take care of you, alright?” his voice comes out harsher than he means it to, more of a shout than anything else, and by the way your expression tightens, he can tell he’s hurt you.
that’s when it all sinks in for him, when you hum, nodding your head slowly as his words echo around your brain. your eyes look down at your hands, thumbs picking at one another awkwardly. he’s said too much, gone too far, he can understand that now. like, really understand it. he should’ve stayed silent. ignored the shit spewed across the floor and crawled into your bed like he’d been wanting to do all day.
well shit, he thinks to himself, he never meant to hurt you. he doesn’t know what he wanted to do by telling you those things, but this wasn’t it.
“sorry,” is all you say when you toss the comforter off your legs. you’re dressed in the same clothes that he saw you in yesterday; had you slept in them? “i, uh… i’ll get out of your hair for a little while, mingi. it seems like you need a little alone time… you’re stressed.” and with that you stand up. mingi lets you, unsure of what to say to you as you grab your wallet from your nightstand and push past him. your hand feels like a hot iron pressed against his shoulder as you side-step him, and he almost, almost, goes to catch it.
before he can, you’re gone, and all he does is stand there as he listens to you open the door and walk out of the apartment.
your apartment.
he sits on your bed, twisting his hands into the comforter as he tries to ground himself. he’d kicked you out of your own apartment because of what? he doesn’t even know himself. he can’t wrap his head around the sudden burst of anger that washed over him like a tsunami. there was no escape from it until it passed, and now he’s left with with aftermath; the pain of upsetting you.
he knew from the moment he stepped in your apartment that you weren’t doing well. the drawn blinds, the pots left over from last night; he’s seen it time and time again and he’s never been upset at you for it. there’s been no anger or frustration there. no cross words or disappointment. nothing except sympathy and the desire to make everything okay for you again.
so, what? he got jealous because you were allowed to sit and wallow in your bad mood and he wasn’t? he got mad that coming to your apartment wasn’t the perfect whirlwind of softness and affection that he’d hoped for? god, he feels pathetic for how he treated you. even more so at the fact that he still feels so desperate for your comfort. he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but holy fuck does he need it.
he lets himself sit there in the pain for just a little while longer. perhaps if he lets himself hurt enough, he might deserve to have you back in his arms. if he repents, everything might be okay again. you’ll forgive him for what he said to you and hold him gently like he needs. you’ll whisper sweet words and kiss his head like he wants. you’ll be kind to him despite the fact that he hasn’t been kind to you. you’ll let him rest…
when he feels enough time has passed, he slips a hand into his pocket to grab his phone. there’s a message or two from his members asking where he went, but he ignores them. they can wait, you can’t. he locates you contact, pressing his thumb against the call button and letting it ring. a few seconds pass before he hears it loud and clear; your phone in the other room. he perks up a little—maybe you’re still here! his legs carry him faster than he can process. he swings the door open with little care about the way it slams against your dresser, and tumbles into the kitchen… where your phone is abandoned… with you nowhere to be seen.
mingi’s heart plummets even further. you’re gone, and now he won’t even have a way to know that you’re safe. it’s still daylight outside but what if you get lost? what if you stay out too long and it gets dark? what if you need him? he lets out a cry of stress, hands flying up to grip his bleached locks tightly in his hands. he feels fucking useless.
for just a moment he lets himself play the blame game with himself. it’s his fault. all of it is. anything could be happening to you and it would be his fault. he upset you and he let you leave! it’s all him, him, him… that makes it his to fix too.
he doesn’t let himself think as he walks over to the door. he doesn’t bother with a jacket, his brain telling him it would take too much time to slip it onto his shoulders. hell, he barely bothers with his shoes! just slips his feet in, not sparing a single thought to the way his feet are currently crushing the backs down. that’s the least of his worries, anyway. he can buy new shoes, he can’t replace you.
his hand reaches out to grab the door handle. it’s just centimetres away, almost close enough to grab it. his fingers begin to curl around the metal, but someone else gets there first. the handle dips down, and the door creeks as it opens just the tiniest bit. mingi gasps, moving at the speed of lighting to pull the door even wider. he knows exactly who’s on the other side, and his desperation to see you can’t be contained. he barely even looks at you before scooping you up into his arms.
“ouch, mingi,” you squirm as he holds you tighter than you think you’ve ever been held before. “you’re trapping my hair! let go, you giant oaf.”
he doesn’t, but he does loosen his grasp just a touch. not enough to let you fully breathe again, but just so you can save your hair from being pulled from your head. you’re grateful for that, at least, but it doesn’t stop you from trying to wriggle free. “let me go,” you reiterate, body still moving as he holds you against his broad chest, “i need to give you something but i can’t when you have me trapped!”
“you don’t need to give me anything,” he pouts as he presses a wet kiss against your hairline. it’s all very sweet, but you can’t help but feel like now is not the time.
“yes i do!” you twist your body in a way that makes it impossible for mingi to keep hold of you, gasping in a dramatic fashion as if you’d been starved of oxygen completely. mingi can’t help but smile at your performance, even if his arms do feel a little too empty now you’re not in them. you are absolutely adorable, after all. “i need to give you this because it’ll melt otherwise.”
that’s when he notices the clear plastic bag in your hand. if he looks carefully, he can just about make out the pint of hazelnut ice cream and the bag of shrimp chips; his favourites. confused, he brings his gaze back up to your face, noticing the shy smile that rests on your lips as you raise the bag up for him to take. “for me?” he asks. you only give him a quick nod in response. “but… why?”
when he doesn’t take the bag, you roll your eyes and stomp past him to the kitchen. it hits the counter with a thud, and mingi flinches. are you angry with him? of course, you have every right to be but if he’s being honest, he’s rather that you weren’t. he really needs you right now. he slinks up behind you, watching as you busy yourself with taking the snacks out of the bag. his arms ache with the desire to be wrapped tightly around your waist, but he somehow manages to hold himself back.
“because you’re obviously not doing good,” you say as you yank the cutlery drawer open to grab two spoons. it doesn’t go unnoticed when you pull out the flat one with the thin handle alongside the deep one with the heavy handle; his and your favourite spoons, respectively. his chest aches with love as you, actually rather violently stab the container with both of them. he always has loved your silly little antics.
“yeah, well you’re not doing good either,” he tries to argue, but you shut him up with a glare.
“me not doing well doesn’t mean i can’t try to help you when you’re not doing well,” you shrug as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “my feelings don’t negate your feelings and i love you, so i want to try and help you.” whether it’s a loaded statement or not, mingi can’t help but understand the irony. either you’re trying to teach him a lesson or the universe is. judging by the look in your eyes, he thinks it’s safe to assume that it’s you.
“i get it,” he nods, “i’m sorry for being a dick, you don’t deserve that.”
“i don’t deserve it, but i do understand it and i’m not going to torture you for it when it’s obvious you’ve been torturing yourself,” you point a finger up to his messed up hair, “what i am going to do is get in bed with you and eat a shit ton of ice cream, capeesh?”
“yeah, baby,” he smiles, “capeesh…”
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“No.”
“No what?”
Jongho knows his firm words have not penetrated your emotional wall one bit. Realistically he could never deny you of anything, the use of the word ‘no’ with you completely foreign to him. But this time he just wants the future benefit of being able to say ‘I told you so.’
You hold the raggedy looking kitten in your arms as it eats out of the spoon Jongho holds out in front of it. Its mouth moves a mile a minute. He thinks it’s frighteningly tiny, quite ugly and smelly too. But you’re holding it like it’s a darling, million-dollar jewel with pure love in your eyes and he can’t help but be smitten with everything that is about you, you, you.
You wave it’s black paw towards Jongho, the smile on your face glowing, “Say hello, daddy,”
Jongho wants to grimace and deny you, but a laugh breaks loose out of him, “I am no one’s daddy,”
You raise a brow at that, and he already knows you’re going to say something stupid, so he shuts you up with a kiss to your forehead and takes the black furball out of your hands. It looks comedically small against Jongho’s larger frame, but he holds it like a gentle flower and you’re sure the kitten’s alright.
“We will keep him for one night,” your squeal of joy makes Jongho smile, “But, we’re not naming him, ok? And he’s going away in the morning time,” He doesn’t look up at you once while he’s talking and you’re sure your bribery to keep the kitten is working, despite what he may say.
“But look at him, honey,” you pout up at him, “So sad. So alone in the little cardboard box I found him in, you should’ve seen it,”
Jongho scrunches his nose, a scrutinizing look pointed at you, “You probably kidnapped him,”
You feign offense, “Did not! Someone totally abandoned him,”
He hums, too focused on the sound of the now sleeping kitten’s purrs. You lean your head on his shoulder, arms winding around his waist. He wants to laugh at how you’re seriously looking at the kitten like you’ve been waiting 9 months for it, but he’s suffocating on his adoration for you. He forgets that your sensitivity and gentleness is something that’s reserved for him. He forgets what a rare, beautiful sight you are. He forgets how big his love for you is, but good thing you’re here to remind him.
He speaks softly, “We should name him Bear.”
bom note: sorry i’m madly in love with jongho. as if it’s my fault. reqs are open :>
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Haiii this might be a weird request but I wonder if you could write an angsty Addams!MATZ fic 😭 so sorry if this is weird I've just been feeling really angsty! You can choose whatever happens lol I just wanna cry 🫶🏽
sorry i didn’t write this sooner!!! i really wanted to but i’ve been super busy over the past few days :(( i never feel super confident writing angst but i did my best!!! i hope you enjoy :D
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hongjoong yelled at you… hongjoong never yells. he doesn’t yell when yeosang is being difficult to train or just acting downright feral. he doesn’t yell when clients are being cheeky and asking for far too much. he doesn’t even yell when you’re being a brat and he slips into ‘dom mode’ to punish you. yet he yelled at you just a few minutes ago…
why?
it’s your fault, you tell yourself. if you’d just listened when he told you he was busy, none of this would’ve happened. he was already stressed so why did you think being a brat and pushing his buttons would be a good idea? of course he wouldn’t want to deal with you when he already so much else on his plate with work. it was dumb of you to even think he’d give you the time of day.
you try and keep your tears to a minimum as you stalk through the house. noisy crying would only be another distraction to hongjoong and you don’t want to upset him any more than you already have done. still, despite your best attempts, you can help the shuddered breathing and quiet sniffles as you make your way down the stairs and towards your favourite spot in the house.
the fire is already crackling, drawing you in like the pied piper. you can hear the hushed conversation behind the soft crepitation, but you ignore it, entirely too focussed on how nice it will be to flop onto your favourite rug and fall into a slumber. perhaps when you wake, everything will be fine. maybe hongjoong won’t be mad at you anymore. he’ll smile at you as he tells you you’re forgiven, placing a kiss to your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. he’ll take you up into his arms and apologise for yelling, speaking to you in the softest, most gentle voice he can muster. it’s a nice thought…
you reach the doorway to the living room, staring up at the large, oak arch that reaches high above your head. it’s carved with intricate details all hand finished by their artist friend, yunho. most of it represents their respective histories, each of their tales beginning from the bottom of the arch and climbing the wood like vines until they reach the apex at the top. prior to your arrival, their wedding had been the carving at apex of the arch, the image of two ravens, each holding a ring within their beaks, sat proudly above everything else.
now, though, the image at the top is entirely different. a lamb with dove wings and a dainty collar around its neck. the ravens still sit proudly on either side of the creature, watching over it as it sleeps. as you stare at it, you can’t help but wonder whether hongjoong will still be upset with you come bedtime. there’s a spare room down the hall that you used to sleep in when you were nothing more than their sugar baby and it was too late for them to send you home alone. perhaps you’ll have to reside in that room tonight, cold and alone and unable to sleep without the warmth of your lovers on either side of you. the thought has you biting your lip to silence a sob.
it doesn’t quite work. you still involuntarily whimper, catching the attention of both seonghwa and yeosang. their hushed conversation halts to a stop as they see you at the doorway, eyes wide and wet as you stare up at the very tippy-top of the arch. your fingers tangle themselves up as they helplessly fiddle with one another, tugging and twisting and picking until blood begins to pool along one of your nail beds. seonghwa can’t recall a time he’s ever seen you like this, and there werewolf had certainly never. they share a wary look.
“my darling lamb,” seonghwa calls to you in a hushed voice. he doesn’t want to startle you by being too loud, but he needs to pull you from this anxious haze you’d found yourself trapped in. he can’t lie that he’s a little relieved when your red ringed eyes flicker over to meet his. smiling is the last thing he wants to do upon seeing you in this state, but he knows his gentle disposition will calm you; it always does. his lips curl up softly. “what happened?”
the werewolf that has taken up residence on your favourite rug watches with concerned eyes. ever since his arrival, you’ve been an annoying little shit. an absolute thorn in his side when he wanted nothing more than to have a peaceful existence in his new home. you have no respect for personal space, you never know when to shut up, and you’re always way too cheerful all the time. they were facts that yeosang just had to accept when he realised you weren’t threatened by his harsh growling and gnashing teeth. all those times he had you pinned to the floor, spit spraying as he warned you to leave him the fuck alone only to have you giggle in his face and call him pretty; that person is nowhere to be seen right now.
“pup?” he hums, deep voice grumbling as his worries work themselves into his tone. even though he quite thoroughly despised you on his entry to the house, it seems you have this magical ability to work your way into the hearts of anyone you set your sights on. you set your sights on him before you even knew him; it took you no time at all to become one of his top priorities. “tell us what’s the matter. we can’t help unless we know?”
you take a few tentative steps into the room, bare feet tapping lightly against the parquet floor. they’re so used to your thundering footsteps as you traverse the house at your excitable pace. the silent footsteps you take towards them make their skin crawl.
you reach the rug, gently lowering yourself until your bare thighs hit the soft fur. your pastel blue skirt—the one that seonghwa had picked out to match the werewolf’s fuzzy blue jumper—bunches up around your waist, but neither of them have the time to admire how perfectly slutty it looked. it hardly seems right when you continue to wordlessly snivel and whimper, not even bothering to lay yourself down alongside your favourite werewolf-shaped pillow.
“hongjoong was mean to me,” you whimper, and seonghwa can’t lie, it confuses him.
hongjoong is mean to you a lot. it’s how he punishes you for being a brat, bullying you into submission until you decide to be a good girl. he calls you names, pushes you around a little—it’s nothing too severe but still enough for him to have earned the reputation as the crueler of the two of them. for a second, seonghwa thinks he’s landed on the answer, you must’ve been a little too bratty and couldn’t handle the consequences…
but that still doesn’t make sense.
if you couldn’t handle the consequences then that must’ve meant you weren’t in the right headspace to be punished. that in itself is nothing new, although normally, you tend to realise that before you decide to go and act out. it could’ve been the case that you didn’t realise you weren’t feeling up for a punishment but then you should’ve used your safeword. the fact that you’re sat downstairs with him and yeosang and not snuggled up in hongjoong’s arms is testament to the fact that you can’t have done that either. his husband would never do something so utterly stupid as to let you out of his sight when you’re clearly still upset over a scene you stopped.
so what happened?
did you just force yourself to take a punishment you didn’t want? no. seonghwa knows you’re too smart to do that just like he knows his husband is too observant not to notice. it’s something else entirely. something that seonghwa just can’t put his finger on.
“i need a little more information than that, darling,” seonghwa coos as he leans forwards to rest his elbows on his lap. his chin sits prettily in the palms of one hand, the other coming to rest atop your head. he pets you a few times, his touch like a cloud as tries to soothe you. your shoulders relax a touch, but your fingers still pick at one another in your lap. seeing you in such a state makes his heart sink. “lamb, what exactly did hongjoong do to make you so upset?”
you sniffle, separating your hands for just a second to wipe your tears away. they fall right back onto your lap, twisting and tugging and smearing the blood around. seonghwa can’t help but be thankful that nothing in the house is pale enough to be stained by your blood; otherwise he’d be marching you the bathroom to wash your hands, begging you to tell him what happened as the two of you walk.
“he yelled at me,” you say simply, as if that would answer all of seonghwa’s questions. it doesn’t. in fact it only fills his mind with more.
“he yelled? as in he raised his voice?” seonghwa asks softly. he hopes that the answer is no; that you just mean that hongjoong has scolded you for something. it’s a little bit of a strong reaction for just a small telling off, but you have been known to take these sorts of things to heart.
but you nod, and seonghwa’s heart sinks. hongjoong never yells at anyone, let alone you, his little dove. seonghwa and yeosang pass an odd look between them.
“master yelled at you?” the werewolf hums as he shuffles his body closer to yours. an arm wraps around your waist and effortlessly tugs you until you’re lay flat against the rug alongside the pretty creature. he lays the hand atop your own, stopping you from doing any more damage to your nail beds. the blood that spills onto his hands is nothing that bothers him. “why would master do that?”
the question is more aimed towards seonghwa than it is you. as close as you are with the couple, it’s only really seonghwa that knows the inner workings of his husbands brain. he always has an explanation to everything hongjoong does…
“i don’t know,” he says, a frown taking over his beautiful features. you hate it because you know it’s your fault. you upset hongjoong, you got yelled at, you told seonghwa, and now you have upset him. every sign points to you…
“it’s my fault,” you whisper. yeosang’s arm tightens around your waist in an instinctive display of protection. from what, he isn’t too sure. “i just wanted him to take a break but he’s too busy right now. i should’ve known.”
of course. seonghwa could’ve guessed it would be down to stress. it’s been a rough few weeks for hongjoong, the stress of yeosang arriving and finding his way into their weird, mismatched family, mixed with an increase in customers with the jewellery business, it’s safe to say hongjoong had barely had a moment free. of course, yeosang has calmed a little by now, but that doesn’t take the stress of the business away from his poor husband. he’s still being worked half to death by demanding clients who have more money than sense.
seonghwa imagines that any moment now, his husband will come to his senses and see that you were just trying to do something nice. that you weren’t just being difficult for the sake of it—which, granted, you often are—but were instead just trying to take care of him. you lacked the grace and finesse that the two of them did, but you still tried. demons, it fills his heart with love to know that you desire to care for them in the same way they care about you. you’re such a precious little lamb for them; they must’ve done something very special in their past life to deserve you.
“oh, my lamb,” seonghwa mumbles through a soft smile, “you have nothing to blame yourself for except being at the mercy of your own empathy. you prodded him because you were worried and that’s very thoughtful of you. your daddy should be worshipping you for such a kind act. i’ll go and see if i can’t talk some sense into him, hm?”
he stands up, long flowing trousers pooling gracefully over his feet. his red nails dance along them as he straightens the material out, trying to iron out the creases with only his bare hands.
“i’ll be back soon,” he hums, “let your puppy take care of you for now.”
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bf texts w/ mingi
warnings - a little suggestive, mentions of vehicular manslaughter
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proposal w/ jongho
there’s just something about you tonight that has jongho unable to take his eyes off of you yet he can’t seem to place his finger on what
you’re dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers
it’s not that you don’t have your own clothes to change into, you just claim his are comfier and who is he to stop you when you look so cute
you look like you’re his
the possessive part of his brain that just wants to squirrel you away somewhere where it’s just the two of you forever really likes that fact
he leans forward to take the bowl from your lap, instead placing it on the coffee table so there was no risk of it toppling to the floor
then he grabs onto you, pulling at your body until you’re tucked nicely under his arm
you bring your feet onto the sofa, curling into a compact little ball as you snuggle up tightly into his side
if the world ended right this second, jongho really doesn’t think he’d mind; he’s not sure anything would ever be better than this moment in time
after all, he already has all he ever wants tucked neatly into his arms
“do you want to marry me?” the words slip from his mouth before he can stop them, “i mean not now but— wait, that sounds like i don’t want to…”
he’s silenced by your pretty giggles, twinkling like a wind chime during a storm
it shuts his thoughts up, leaving with only the sound of you trying to stifle your laughter with the back of your hand
it’s beautiful, and all he wants is for the rest of his time on earth to be filled with that
with you
he sighs, relaxing a little before he squeezes you gently with his arms
“you know what, i’m just going to roll with it,” he says, “i was waiting for something more romantic, but this works too.”
you twist your head until you’re facing him, wide eyes staring up into his own
he catches your lips in a kiss, trying his hardest not to smile against them
but how can he not when he’s so happy; he has you in his arms looking all soft and snuggly in his clothes
you’re his, and it just solidifies his thoughts even more; he wants to see you in a wedding dress so incredibly bad that it hurts his chest
he pulls away and looks you deep in your eyes
“well?” his heart stutters just like it always does when he looks at you, “do you want to?”
you shrug, a coy smirk coming to your face
“i don’t know,” you can’t help but smile when you see him give you that familiar look of annoyance, “maybe if you ask me properly, i’ll say yes…”
irritating little brat… his irritating little brat; god, he fucking loves you
“will you marry me?” he deadpans, rolling his eyes as if it takes him all the effort in the world to utter those 4 little words
“i thought you were supposed to get down on one knee to ask me that?” you’re pushing your luck, you know you are
it’s just so fun to see your baby bear get get all riled up and annoyed at you
he just looks so cute with his brows furrowed and an angry little pout on his lips
besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know you’ll make it up to him one way or another
“you want me to get on the floor?” he sighs as he watches you nod your head, that smug look never once leaving your face
god, he regrets all those years he’s spent giving you everything you’ve ever wanted; it’s turned you into a little brat
with a shake of his head, he untucks you from his side and stands up
all he can hear is your pretty laughter and as much as he wants to get annoyed at you for finding so much amusement in pissing him off, he can’t
you just sound too sweet
he searches around briefly for something to use as a ring
he already has one—he normally keeps it in his pocket so when the moment feels right, he’s ready for it
but its in his jeans and they’re already strewn across the floor of his bedroom and he’s certainly not wasting time going to fetch it
desperate times call for desperate measures it seems
he grabs an empty can from the coffee table and yanks the metal tab free
“i know it won’t fit in your fingers but this is purely symbolic,” he says before you can make some sassy remark about it being too small for you to wear, “your real ring is in the bedroom; i’ll give it to you when we go to bed.”
and then he dips down to the floor, his knee thudding against the wood
he holds his hands out, the tiny piece of metal sitting atop his palm
it glints under the light, and for some reason you can’t help but stare at it
something about it makes your chest ache in the most beautifully romantic way and you’re not sure why… it’s not even a ring
but perhaps that’s just it; the knowledge that you don’t need some fancy ring to make this proposal special
no photographer to capture the perfect moment and no huge crowd of people to fawn over you
it’s just you and him, barely dressed in the living room of your apartment
it all feels so… perfect
“will you—”
“yes,” you cut him off with a desperate nod, no longer in the mood to tease him, “jongho, of course i will.”
your hands find his own, fingers dancing across his palms until you’re holding that symbolic piece of metal in your hands
it’s not an expensive ring, but it’s as good as
you hold it like it’s worth the same amount as the moon and the stars all put together, and then you just smile
you’re happy
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ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ ➤ sᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀɴᴛɪᴇs
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ᴏᴛ8 x ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ, sᴏᴍᴇ sᴜɢɢᴇsᴛɪᴠᴇ, sᴍᴜᴛ
sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ➬ ᴛʜᴇᴍ sᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀɴᴛɪᴇs
ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs sᴏꜰᴛ ᴅᴏᴍ!ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ, ᴍɪɴɢɪ ᴅᴇᴀʟs ᴡ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴄᴀʀᴇ, ᴀss sʟᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ/ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴘɪɴᴄʜɪɴɢ, ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇs, ʟᴏᴡᴇʀᴄᴀsᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ
ɴᴏᴛᴇ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀʀᴄʜ ᴜᴘ ᴛɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴡ :,) ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ʜᴀʀᴅ ʟᴏʟ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ :)
ʜᴏᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ. You were trying to get dressed as quietly as you possibly could without waking up your boyfriend but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out where the hell you had tossed your damn pants the night before. Sure they had legs but they couldn’t just get up and walk off.
It had gotten so bad that you started checking in bizarre places like behind hoongjoong’s desktop and the little space between his headboard and wall but they weren’t there either.
Where the hell—
“What are you doing?” You jumped and whipped around to see your boyfriend sitting up on one arm. Not one wink of sleep was in his eyes, making you question how long had he been awake.
“I’m looking for my pants but I can’t find them…” you trailed off in your starting rant, noticing a certain glint in his eye and that’s when it clicked. That’s why he doesn’t look tired. Stalking up to his side of the bed and darting your hand out.
“Give me my pants.” You say with all seriousness.
“And why would I do that when this view is so much better?” Referring to you standing there in your panties. He teasingly bites his lip whilst reaching out to hook his finger in the band of them and pull you closer to him with one tug.
“How about you come lay back down and let me see you some more like this, and just maybe I’ll consider giving them back.”
sᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ. He probably wouldn’t have freaked out as much if it had happened at your place, knowing that sometimes yours and his laundry did get mixed up between visits. But because it happened at the dorms where any of the boys could’ve seen it. And just his luck, of course it was wooyoung who saw them.
“Hyung, I think you forgot something.” He turns and finds wooyoung skipping up to him with his hands behind his back. Did he? His laundry soap was sitting on top of his basket so it couldn’t be that. Did he maybe forget to empty the dryer fully? His face then flashes to something horrific at the sight of wooyoung holding your underwear just by the strap.
Never have he moved so fast, snatching the garment out of his hand, not without whipping him upside the head with them after.
“Ow!!”
“These are mine!” He spat stupidly, not thinking what he was saying. He was just trying to get them in the pocket of his sweats before any of the others saw.
“Since when do you wear—”
“You speak nothing of this. Nothing! Or else I’ll tell San it was you the one who spilt coffee on shiber.”
He didn’t even wait for his reaction before stalking off to his room, closing the door shut. Seonghwa let out a big sigh, pushing himself away from it and onto his bed where he then reaches for his phone and pulls up your contact to text you.
To y/n:
Found those panties you were looking for. You caused me quite the trouble. I think you should make it up to me…
ʏᴜɴʜᴏ. “What do you think about this dress, baby?”
Approaching him from behind, yunho puts his phone down to give you his— UNDIVIDED ATTENTION?? He gaped at the so-called dress you spun around in, the end just barely meeting your mid thighs and the material…well let’s just say, he could see your ass.
Out of nowhere, in your little fashion show, he starts laughing and clapping to himself, raising a frown from you.
“What’s so funny?” Folding your arms in offense. And just like that, he stopped, wiping his last fake tear before sliding forward to the edge of the couch with a more heartfelt tone.
“Baby. I can literally see your underwear through that dress.” He points at your rear, which you try and cover with your hands.
“You’re lying.” You scoff, ready to walk your way back to your room to see what he was talking about but his hand was quicker. Swiftly catching you by the thigh, he backs you into him and with the other hand, he grabs the end of your dress and pulls it up over the mound of your ass.
“Yunho!” You exclaimed and reached out in front of you to steady yourself on the coffee table.
“Yeah I can definitely see them now.” He chuckles darkly, sending chills down your spine as he fondled with one asscheek before delivering it with a hard smack.
“Bending over like this, anybody else would’ve seen them too…”
ʏᴇᴏsᴀɴɢ. The only time he ever really saw them was behind closed doors and that being just for a blink before tossing them somewhere on the floor.
So when you casually appear out of nowhere, walking up to him in one of his shirts and just your panties, he quite literally chokes on the water he was drinking and gaped at you as if you had grown two heads.
First of all, you looked stunning as hell in his clothes but seriously, what the fuck?!
“Are you crazy?!” He panics and hurriedly pulls you down into his lap, covering you both with some blanket that happened to be next to him.
“If one of the guys were to come back and saw you, I would never hear the end of it.”
Especially from wooyoung. God—He mainly wouldn’t let something like this go without endlessly teasing him about it for at least a month.
There then was a long moment of silence, the only source of sound came from the show playing in front of you that was long forgotten, that was till yeosang breaks it.
In the quietest of voices, you were still able to hear, “They’re really cute tho.” Despite his face being buried in your shoulder.
sᴀɴ. He’d usually knock before entering your bedroom when he knew you went to change but at the moment wooyoung wasn’t making any sense in his spawn of messages and on top of that, san’s phone was about to die.
‘Charger. Charger. Charger.’ Was the only thing going off in his head, almost making himself run into a wall because he was trying to respond at the same time that it didn’t even register to him that he had barged in on you until you let out a squeak.
“Oh—I’m sorry baby,” he instantly covers his eyes as if he hasn't seen you in your underwear before.
“It’s okay. You just scared me, that’s all.” Breathing out relief. “Good thing you’re here though,” your tone instantly switching to a more bubbly one. “What do you think about these? I got them for a great deal at the mall.”
He then removed his hand and looked as you gave him a little 360 of the new panties you were sporting. Cute and minimum coverage. Just how he liked them.
“So pretty.” His tone being soft while he reaches out to pull you in by the hip to get a better look. His fingers sneakily wander over the material and even more slyly pinches your cheeks, causing you to yelp and smack his chest.
To sum up the story, his phone eventually ended up dying so whatever it was wooyoung needed to say, it was gonna have to wait until he was done with you.
ᴍɪɴɢɪ. You were already long gone by the time he came back with a warm washcloth and a fresh pair of panties to clean you up with. All those times you teased him the following morning for falling asleep immediately, now look at you. He finally had something to get you back with. But for the moment, all he wanted to do is take care of you.
Gently, he spread your legs without waking you so that he could start cleaning you. Once he was done, he then shimmied on your panties, making sure they were comfortable sitting on your hips.
There. He thinks to himself, smiling suddenly at what he picked out. The red and green cherry pattern was in complete contrast to your purple bra that was peeking out over your tank top. So he may have or not picked them up just because they were cute but hey, at least you covered. That was his logic.
He pulls your strap back on your shoulder while also leaning down to press a tender kiss against your forehead, “I love you.”
ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ “wooyoung, please.” Bucking your jean-clad pussy into his hand, trying to get more friction. If you didn’t need him so badly and knew that you could make yourself feel twice as good, you wouldn’t even be putting up with his teasing. But the hard reality was that you couldn’t. And he knew that just as well.
That’s why getting you all worked up was more pleasurable for him. That if at any point he stopped, you were going to beg him til tears. He knew just how to get what he wanted from his little princess and exactly how to make her behave.
“So wet for me and I haven’t even taken these off.” He giggles in your ear, referring to the dark patch that was dead center of your crotch.
“Let’s see now. Can woo see?” He laughs again at your frantic nodding. His hands then work on the bottom of your jeans, popping it open before shimming them down your legs.
“My, my, my. What do we have here?”
Just as he expected. You had seeped right through your panties, which he couldn't help but notice they were the ones he bought you for Valentine’s Day. You only wore them on special occasions.
“You wore these just for me?” He cooes and grabs the top of them, and pulls them up so that the seat was rubbing right on your clit. You moaned loudly at finally getting some stimulation, basking in it as long as you can.
“We’re gonna leave these on. That alright?”
ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did you say yes to spending the night? You never spent the night. Not because you didn’t want to. Hopefully he never thought that for all those times you turned down his offer. It’s just that— spending the night meant sharing the same bed. And while that doesn’t seem too big of a deal, you were still nervous because you only slept in your underwear.
Sleeping was more comfortable that way and solely why you had always been afraid to spend the night. You didn’t want to weird him out with your little habit.
Sensing your hesitation to climb in the bed after him, he frowned as you stared at the empty space beside him in deep thought.
“Hey,” he reached out to touch your hand in a loving manner, drawing your attention from the empty space to meet his eyes.
“If you’re uncomfortable with this, it’s okay. I’ll sleep on the floor and you take the bed.”
“No, no! It’s not that. It’s just…” you take a long pause before letting out a defeated sigh. There was no other way to tell him at this point.
“I only like to sleep in my underwear. My legs get too hot if I’m in pants but I didn’t want to weird you out because this is your room and I have no right to do what I want—”
Mid rant, somehow Jongho managed to scoot closer to you without you noticing and pulled you down, shutting you up with a brief kiss.
“It’s okay, doll. You can sleep in your underwear if you want. I just want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
He gives you an reassurancing smile whilst gently squeezing your hand. You return one of the same before letting out another sigh and stepping back to shimmy out of your pants. Blushing instantly at the way he eyed your panties, “pretty,” was all he said as he pulled you down in the bed with him.
written by yeorisanaxox. No translations or reposting. Leave a like and reblog w [feedback is much appreciated] ✨
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plsss i need jongho fucking you in the mating press position, omg immagine him thrusting so fucking hard into you, watching your eyes get teary, hearing you complain about how you can’t take it anymore and wrap his hand around your throat to keep you quiet. he'd be so shy after... pleasee
something new came out of jongho… you just couldn’t understand it. but who is to blame? mingi. randomly enough, mingi got jongho a book of sex positions. after months of waiting for jongho to pop up with something new… as he had the book for quite some time… he finally came to you.
he introduced the position, and surprised you when he said it would be the most perfect position for breeding. usually jongho is this shy and coy boy, very kissy instead of explicit… i guess he has just been more daring lately. so casual, so nonchalant, later in the evening he had you in that very position.
“i can’t i can’t i can’t..” you take a whiny breath, “i can’ttttttt…!!!” you whine, you’ve never felt your g-spot hit at such a high speed of pressure, looking down to see your stomach forming a bump at his every thrust. your mind was so overwhelmed that you gave up, letting your mouth make whatever sounds it must, your hands gripping at the sheets. to your unfortunate reality, mingi and yeosang were chilling in the room next to you. you didn’t know they were that close, but being aware of them being in the house with you, you tried to keep it down as much as you could.
“you wanna shut up???” jongho asks in front of your face, shock filling your brain as his dominance is making you want to squirt all over him. you moan out loud, not being able to take the pressure in your abdomen any longer. you start clenching on his thick cock, making him wince in anger at you already being ready to cum. this made him pleased, and of course he wanted to be able to make you cum this fast. but he did not want you to cum just yet, not this fast.
“shut…” he wraps his hand around your neck, making sure not to completely trap your airways, “up… shut up… there are people next door, ah.. you like when other boys can hear you feeling good? hm?” he asks in your face, wincing once more when you release a sudden whimper, teary eyes rolling to the back of your head as you release on his throbbing dick.
your cunt contracting on his cock was enough for his hips to start stuttering, his face extremely focused on cumming now that you have. he wanted to spend more time fucking you, but you both couldn’t handle how good the position felt. so he pulled out, spewing his hot load all over your body, never have ever seeing so much cum come out of his pink cock. he attends to you immediately, brushing your hair out of your face and holding your jaw to get your attention.
“maybe i can breed you when you’re ready to hold your cum for me… yea princess? so horny…”
⋆˙ writing master list ˙ ⋆
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Thoughts on hard dom Hwa? 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
yes.
shibari
but with silk (he wouldn’t want to hurt his precious little bunny after all).
he’d want to tie you up and experiment with all sorts of knots, all the while calling you his bunny.
he’d seem sweet and attentive, but he’d also purposefully rile you up while your tied up in ways that won’t allow you to get yourself off.
he’d tease you and tease you and tease you but won’t actually touch you where you want him to until you’re begging.
he’d laugh at you and call you pathetic, and you’d eat it all up, getting wetter and needier by the second.
he’d watch with a sadistic smile on his face as you mr naked body squirmed, your arousal smearing against whatever surface you were on.
he’d cup his hand over your sopping pussy if he felt nice, a chuckle escaping his lips as you immediately buck your hips against his palm.
“and what do you think you’re doing, hm?”
he’d let you continue until he knew you were close, abruptly removing his hands.
“you don’t move until i tell you to, okay, bunny? i decide when you cum, did you forget? and only good girls get to cum, so behave.”
he’d watch you nod eagerly, the smirk spreading wider.
“good, good… tell me who you belong to, bunny… uh huh, that’s right, very good… yeah, bunny, you belong to me… now, do you want that reward?”
he’d finally run a single finger through your folds, circling your oh so sensitive clit almost frustratingly slowly, gradually increasing his speed and pressure.
he’d never wipe of his sadistic smirk as he watched you unravel at his fingertips, listening to your pretty little sounds and cooing at you mockingly.
“aww, bunny, you’re so sensitive… are you going to cum? … yeah? hm? you’re gonna cum on a single finger? … god, look at you, so pathetic… what? awww, you were expecting me tell you you’re doing well? tell you how pretty you are? what a cute little slut… oh? what was that? you’re not a slut? …. baby, you sound so stupid. who was it that was begging for any kind of touch a second ago, hm?”
he’d click his tongue disappointedly at your protest, but still didn’t stop his rubbing. though, instead of letting you finish, he’d edge you.
he’d rub you until you were just about to finish, then pull away and wait a minute, before repeating the same thing over and over again.
he’d have you call yourself his slut between every break. by the time he decides it was enough, you had tears streaming down your face.
he’d finally let you finish, watching you twitch and cry out like the pathetic little mess you are.
and he’d smile, knowing he’s the only one that could get you in that state.
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save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi
in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.
best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!
listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis
masterlist.
it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.
you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.
“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”
based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.
“can i admit something?”
he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.
you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.
“i’ve never done that before.”
his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”
“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”
“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”
furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.
“i can… teach you, if you want?”
you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.
“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”
he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”
you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.
you could already hear him giggling at the sight.
groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.
deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.
the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.
“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.
once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.
“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”
you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”
“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”
“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”
you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.
“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”
“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”
“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.
you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.
“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”
“r-really?”
mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.
“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”
you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.
“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”
“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”
his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.
he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.
you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.
all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.
“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.
eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.
with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.
“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”
he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.
he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.
after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.
“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”
he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.
he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”
you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.
it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.
he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.
“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”
you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.
he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.
the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.
when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.
when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.
“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”
he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.
he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.
the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.
the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.
“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”
you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.
you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.
your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.
still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.
your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.
his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.
you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.
your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.
“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”
his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.
the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”
you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.
it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.
after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.
“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”
“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.
this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.
“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”
networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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daily texts with bf wooyoung!
cw: one kms joke (it’s very brief and it’s in the very first message in the first message if you want to skip it)
ummm minors idk don’t look at this or else
a/n: anon who requested idol!wooyoung x idol!reader IM SO SORRY 😭😭 i misread and made regular texts, and didn’t even realize my mistake until now. i’m gonna post these since i made them, but i’m now on a mission to make and post the idol texts for you within the next day or two! (most likely two bc i’m slow 💔) so get ready 🫵🏻
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Freak: “You never been with no one as nasty as me.”
:･ﾟ✧ second part to ¡Arriba! and continuation of T!TS UP ✧*: *:･ﾟ-
» pairing: fem!reader x OT5 (kim hongjoong, jeong yunho, choi san, song mingi, jung wooyoung)
» summary: what happens when you wake up the next morning in a dorm that’s not your own? and what happened the night before?
check out pt.1 here!
» w.c: 7.7k
» genres & warnings: college au, corruption kink, degradation yet praise, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (BAD, DON’T DO IT), humping, major tit play, fingering, cunnilingus, mentions of spit, needy!ateez, handjob, mouthfucking blowjob, tit job, anal (i had to), dirty talk, teasing, reader opposes the idea but quickly gets on board, brief mention of professor!seonghwa, multi.stimulants, evil.
*disclaimer: reader is fed pills for a headache, but takes them unknowingly. do not consume anything if you are not aware of its origins*
» a/n: someone had referred to the boys as ‘evil’ and i RAN with that. yeah, they’re pretty mean- well kinda, but it makes things interesting. also, it only took me 18 days to upload 💪
enjoy!
» taglist: @mingyuslice @facioleeknow @sharksandminhos @yakosobaboba @xcynthiaaxox @hyukssunflower @tiny-apocalypse @pearltinyy @therealcuppicake @kxrta @hrts4hanniehae @softwsan @certifiedmoa @writtersthings @mingisprincess @strayskz143 @isabel-018
if your name is crossed, i couldn’t find you 🫶
Your eyes crack open, the new incoming light from above blinding you, and slowly you begin to grow more conscientious. Instantly, you draw notice to your position on the hard floor, back to the ground, head tilted, and arms bent near your face.
For some reason, there's a slight pounding in your head, one that you're not quite familiar with and it genuinely makes you uncomfortable. The thumping grows as you start to wriggle your head around while you wish for it stop. And just as quickly as you had opened your eyes, you’re immediately closing them.
Wha....what happened last night?
Feeling your chest heave up and down, you try to recall the events of the previous night. You remembered getting a late breakfast/early lunch with your roommate, stopping by the library to check out a book, tidying up the room, then spending the rest of the evening catching up on homework.
But, then I got hungry.
Right, and so you’d went to the vending machine on the west side of the hall, where you ran into….Kim Hongjoong. He took you back to…to someone’s dorm and you hung out with his friends.
Then what after that?
“Look at her…” A voice murmurs and it breaks your thoughts. He’s close to your feet, you could tell, and immediately you’re on alert. Had you fallen asleep in the friend’s dorm?
“I’m still not over it, how can someone’s tits be so perfect? I mean, look at ‘em.” Another nearly groans which unexpectedly sends your stomach into a frenzy. Initially you hadn’t realized, but now you do register the cool breeze you’re feeling, sweeping across your bare breasts.
What the hell? Am I…shirtless?
“Who cleaned her stomach?” There’s a bit of muttering off in a distance before whoever said that speaks up again, “Well shit, and I kinda wanted to see Y/N with dried up cum on her this morning.”
“San, you’re so fucking nasty.” Someone chastises which causes a ripple of laughter throughout the room. You almost think they’d continue their conversation when suddenly, you feel a body crouch down next to you and begin lightly tapping at your cheeks.
“Ah, Y/N-ie, wake up for us,” You do as he instructs, you fluttering your eyes open again, only to see a grinning Wooyoung staring back. He holds a cup of water in one hand and the other as a closed fist, “Getting drunk like that without taking precautions, how can you be so irresponsible?”
You scrunch your nose, “What?”
You’re ready to pout, to rebut against his words, but he beats you to the punch by telling you to open your mouth, which you do, and he drops a few pills on your tongue, “It’s Tylenol. Hopefully this’ll stop the headache soon.”
You relax a bit after that, accepting the water as you lean forward. Downing a few gulps, you wait until the pills disappear down your throat then go to speak to him, “How’d you know I have a headache?”
“Everyone gets one their first time drinking.” Hongjoong, the perpetrator, the reason why you’re even here, walks up to you from the other side and also lowers himself so he’s level with you, “I’ll give you props though, you handle your liquor pretty well. Didn’t even throw up on Woo’s carpet once.”
He also has a cup in his hand, filled to the middle with bluish-greenish liquid, and mindlessly you thank him but it’s evident you’re fixated by the mysterious drink, “What’s that?”
Hongjoong peeks into the cup, acting as if he himself hadn’t known what the substance was, but then quickly he’s shoving it in your face with a smile and requesting you to take it, “Mouthwash. We can’t let you leave here with bad breath.”
You allow him to put the plastic to your lips and tilt the cup, dispensing the mouthwash. Your cheeks grow with the slightly burning liquid, you swishing and gurgling it all around before respiting it back into the cup.
After washing out your mouth, you finally sit up on your elbows and sweep a gaze across the room and who’s all in it. Yunho’s standing directly in front of you with his back to the window, San being tangled up in the comforter on the bed, and Mingi resting on the ground in front of a dresser.
“What the actual fuck happened last night?” Mingi comments while staring straight ahead, almost in a daze, and soon memories from the night before flood your mind.
The stupid truths that were asked, the disgusting dares that were performed, and the absolutely most vile challenges to have been completed. All of it resurfaces to your head and you are left in complete and utter shock.
“We found out Y/N’s a real nasty one, likes it dirty.” San snickers, and you throw the harshest dagger eyes imaginable towards him. No one could have prepared you for the drastic turn last night took. From drinking alcohol for the first time to allowing yourself to unravel underneath these five men. So much had happened and you just let it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted pussy as sweet as yours.” Wooyoung mumbles close to you and you hate how your stomach does another flip, “You covered my face sooo well with your lips, it’s almost like you were made for me.”
“Can’t stop staring at her tits.” Yunho blatantly states and not once has his attention been derived from your chest, part of him wishing for his face to be buried in them again.
“Fuck, and her mouth was a needy one, I remember that,” Mingi recalls with a chuckle, causing you to straighten your back with a beat-red face, “Thought she was gonna suck me dry last night.”
“How can you guys say these things? Aren’t you all embarrassed by what happened?” It hadn’t even crossed your mind to think of the repercussions your actions would have caused, leaving you with feelings of shamefulness and wrongness. But despite that, somehow everyone else feels indifferent.
Wooyoung merely laughs at you which makes you turn towards him bewilderedly, “Someone’s self-projecting right now.”
“Are you only asking this now because you feel bad about last night? About letting yourself get showered in cum?” Hongjoong mocks and you slowly cast your eyes downwards. Why do they have to have such a filthy mouth?
“To be fair, you could have declined everything, if you truly didn’t want it.” Yunho makes point, brining his shoulders up and slugging them down again.
“Yeah and who was the one that fucking came on herself after just some hickies?” Mingi thinks about your quaking body beneath him right after he sucked on your neck, nothing getting him more aroused than that moment.
“Just admit it,” Hongjoong drawls, dropping his eyes to take in your exposed body, “You liked every single part of last night, maybe a little too much than what you were hoping for, and that’s why you’re embarrassed. Come on, Y/N, you’re no different from the rest of us. You’re just as nasty.”
You don’t respond. You don’t look up. You force yourself to keep your eyes locked on the little, red box still on the carpet that’s been left untouched all throughout the night.
You’re disgusted by this, by it all. Disgusted by how forward they’re being. Disgusted by how they’re speaking to you. Disgusted by the fact that even through the ridicule, not once did you make an effort to put your tank top back on, and most of all, disgusted with yourself for squirming around to their hurtful words.
“No fucking way, look at her! She’s clenching her thighs right now.” Wooyoung throws a finger to your legs which have closed in on themselves and the rest of the boys hoot in amazement.
“And yet, we should be the ones embarrassed,” San goes to undo the blankets wrapped all around him, sitting up from his laying position and swinging his legs over, “You really are something else.”
Yunho pushes himself off of the wall, the black tank top he sports showcasing each flexing muscle with every step, slowly works his way closer to you, “You know, since we’re talking about it, I’m actually a little pissed at how last night went.”
He stops when he’s hardly an inch away and you verbally hear your breaths catching within your throat, “What are you saying?”
Mingi chimes in with a cold laugh, “Oh my- yeah, I know what you mean.”
While you bounce your eyes between the two of them, confusion plastered on your face , it’s San who deciphers their ominous code for you, “It’s cause they didn’t get to fuck you last night.”
Oh.
At the bluntness of his sentence, you can’t help but let out a soft mewl. Hongjoong dips his head closer to you, laughing, and decidedly adds on, “My god. These fuckers wouldn’t stop talking about how bad they wanted you while you were asleep. Granted, we all pretty much want the same thing, but holy shit. They went on rambles.”
“We could’ve stuffed you up just right too.” Mingi smirks and throws a glance over to you while you attempt to regain what little control was slowly slipping away. You can’t let yourself succumb to them, not again.
“Could’ve had you begging for our cocks like it’s your last meal.” Yunho meekly offers then shrugs his shoulders, feining as if he’d said nothing out of the ordinary.
You drop your mouth ready to scold him, all of them for their horrid words, when two hands begin to snake around your torso. With no hesitation, they grab a moundfull of your breasts which stops the forming sentence and leaves your lips parted open in complete surprise. You quickly look down at yourself being palmed and grabbed at.
“Wanted to feel these every moment of the night, but, that would’ve been weird, right?” Wooyoung quips as plays with your flesh, “Oh man, and you’re so damn soft too.”
The slight pain caused by his action jolts through you, you swiftly shutting your eyes and trying to hold back a whimper, “Wooyoung, please,” Your voice cracks when you plead, “What are- what are you doing?”
“You’re getting her nipples so fucking hard, look at them.” Yunho drops down to his knees and eyes your tits fully, “If I remember anything about last night, it’s how perfect you were when I sucked on these.”
At the end of the sentence, he brings a finger and thumb up to your nipples, flicking at your buds in a quick motion, and instinctively you yelp.
“Oh my god, Y/N. You see how we just lose control when you’re around?” Hongjoong scoots his body closer towards the action, bringing a hand up to your stomach and rubbing aimlessly around the area, “You make us act this way.”
You want to refute that and say, ‘how could I possibly be responsible for this?’ but it’s like the words disappear in your throat when he slides a few fingers near the top of your underwear. He’s grazing the padded area, stroking it.
You nearly forget your initial protest and almost allow yourself to come undone at their touch, and it only gets worse when you hear the bed creak and a body stalking its way towards you. When he gets behind you, you sense the being is much closer than you expected, and the next words to spill are essentially onto your neck.
“If you could get off to just some hickies, I’m so curious to see what else can bring you over like that.” San finishes with a grin that he presses against your skin, then going in for tiny kisses.
“You guys- h-hey.” You almost jump at the hand placement on you leg now, Mingi slowly working his way up your naked shin, past your knee, and halting at your thigh. He’s purposely holding himself back from going all the way.
“Say the word, and we’ll stop.” Wooyoung coos in your ear, the groping on your breasts getting significantly harder and at this point, he’s made room for Yunho’s hands to pinch and pull at you as well.
“We promise, we’ll do it if you want us too, but then…” Hongjoong lolls his head further into your vision which steals your attention away from everything else, “You’d need to stop fucking yourself on my hand if that’s the case.”
“Huh?” You quickly dart your eyes down towards your pelvis and as Hongjoong’s fingers lay idly on your clit, it was in fact you who had been sourcing your stimulation, your hips ever-so leisurely rocking, and digging onto his hand. And you hadn’t even known.
“Fu-uck,” Yunho tilts his face up, enveloping himself in the feeling of your squishy body directly in his hands, “Wanna fuck your tits so damn bad, please. Please, I need your tits around me right now.”
“I could see the outline of your cunt all last night, just staring right at my face,” Mingi kneads at your thigh, and he doesn’t know what came over him, truly he doesn’t. All he knows was that your thigh just looked eatable, with him swooping his face down to drag his tongue in a long, jagged pattern across your skin to your underwear line, “It’s like you were begging me to fuck you.”
“Need your mouth again on my cock, Y/N. You’re lucky I didn’t cum in your damn mouth when I had the chance.” San remarks, leaving mini-bites along your throat.
You hear their begs, their pleas, their desires. Never before have seen such a lustful group, one so open for their wants, for you on top of that. It’s hard to ignore them. Pretend as if their requests aren’t propelling you forward to buck faster onto Hongjoong. So, damn hard. And just like that, all previous attempts at holding yourself back have now cleared your mind. You crumble.
“Are you finally giving in to us?” Hongjoong stares you down, the originally limp hand he had on your underwear now steadily sinking into your pussy, “Well all have so much we want from you, would be waste if they couldn’t be fulfilled.”
The motion makes you flinch as a deadly groan leaves you, your eyes squinting shut and you’re forced to grab onto Wooyoung for support, “Ah-! ah-! Yes, yes, please. You can do whatever you want.”
“Hear that guys? Y/N-ie’s giving us permission to fucking destroy her.” Wooyoung cackles out while his teeth bites down on your shoulder and you cry aloud once more. What? Your skin’s absolutely beautiful, he wanted to see if it tasted as good.
Mingi lets himself up off of you, his face covered in his own saliva from slurping all over your leg, and it’s like a newfound desire pops into his head, “Shit, someone make her lay down. Just wanna do something really quick before we ruin her.”
All at once, the hands and mouths that were on you retract and soon you feel yourself being pushed down flat onto the floor, you recalling a similar situation from last night. Immediately, they get rid of your panties, yanking them off of you, before he’s bending your knees back. Right at the perfect angle to where your cunt’s spread wide enough for everyone to see.
Your scatter your eyes to the few bodies towering over you, “Mingi-”
“You think she’ll cum if I just stick my fingers in her?” He borderline muses, licking his lips at the sight of your pretty, thick cunt.
Wooyoung’s hands are back on to you as he’s fondling one of your tits again, then goes down till he’s level with you on the floor, “I dunno, you should try it out, though.”
Mingi huffs a sigh out, almost too entranced by you to continue, but then he watches as your pussy contracts and releases, almost in desperation for something and that breaks him, “Keep her still, I don’t want her squirming around.”
It’s San and Hongjoong who grab at your knees to hold you down, restraining you as Mingi settles between your legs, eye to eye with your clit. If he were to dart out his tongue, he’s sure he’d graze a little bit of your skin. And so that’s exactly what he does, sticks his tongue out to give you a slight lick directly into your lips, which quickly causes you to twitch.
“Y/N’s gonna get filled with Mingi’s fingers,” Another body taunts, Yunho, who’s dropping down to the other side of your chest and essentially mimics Wooyoung’s pose, “You’re about to get filled with his fat fingers while we fuck up these things.”
Referring to your breasts, the two men jump on you as if they’re starved, the only way to get full again is from you. They both kiss at your supple skin, then try to stuff however much of your flesh they could in their face. With mouths full, they use their tongues to wiggle around, coating a large portion of you in their spit.
“Gah!” You have to bite your lip from screaming even louder, as the men on your legs resort to using only one arm to keep you down, the other going in to touch you places.
“You just move at everything, don’t you?” Hongjoong smiles, noting how hard you’re trying to keep yourself from fidgeting underneath them. He’s back to rubbing near the top of your clit, while San on their other hand is nearly fluttering his eyes open and close, him leisurely starting to grind his hard bulge on to the back of your thigh.
“That’s-” A particular bite from Wooyoung makes you wheeze before coming back to your senses, “That’s not fair.”
You’re just about to fall apart at the seems from having almost every part of you stimulated, never having been so turned on before in your life, it’s bound to leave you wanting to wiggle around.
Mingi throws in another harsh slide of his tongue which would’ve shut you up immediately had you not finished talking already. He laps a bit more at your cunt, and even momentarily would bury himself between your pussy lips just for the feel of it, before he’d even begin to finger you. The moment he brought his hands, you were practically game over.
“Uh oh, someone’s about to hit their climax early,” Hongjoong sees how despite your hips remaining relatively still, your stomach’s sucking in and out rapidly, you breathing worsening by the second.
“Should we let her?” Mingi asks as he comes up for a second, watching the scene unfold before his very eyes of you basically going crazy.
Yunho, who’s been occupied with suctioning on your tit, finally detaches himself, leaning his head right below your boob, “But that’s kind of unfair. Remember, she got herself off last night without any of us helping.”
The other two on your cunt hums at that fact, Mingi narrowing his eyes to further examine you before doing the despicable act. No warning, no preparation at all, he shoves his two fingers into your entrance and a gutter-like groan escapes your lips, almost feeling like punishment for last night.
The motion didn’t make you cum, not like how they thought, and the guys were happy about that while you, oh the only thing you wanted to do was lay on your back and spaz out an orgasm. But, they weren’t going to let you. No, if you wanted to cum, it would need to be with everyone.
After pounding his fingers in a few more times, the squelching sound of your pussy cutting through the air combined with your heavy panting, Mingi unplunges his hand and inspects the wetness dripping off of him.
He twists his fingers around, taking in your arousal then opens his mouth to suck off your liquid. The taste of you shoots down to his already hard dick and he almost lets out a moan himself, “Mmm, do you know what you taste like?”
You couldn’t even look at him, whining out a ‘no’ as you go to shake your head. It’s hard to concentrate when the rest of the guys still haven’t let up on you.
“Oh, well here.” You try to glance down and get an image of what he means when all you see are fingers fly at your face before he puts his own wet digits inside your mouth. Your eyes roll back as you immediately choke on them, coughing against his fingers.
It buzzes against his skin which only fuels his erection further, and now he deems it’s time, “Yeah, I’m ready to fuck her.” Then he rips his fingers out of you.
San has to physically pry himself off, pre-cum seeping past his shorts and leaving your thigh a drenched mess, “No one take her mouth, I want it.”
“I bet your assholes so tight,” Hongjoong’s cock almost creams at the thought of your constricting hole around him while he removes his fingers from your clit, “Y/N, are you gonna let fuck your ass?”
Yunho bites his lips at the red and purple art that has became your breasts, “All I know is I’m gonna cum right here.” He points to your sternum as the destination, indicating he’s wanting to rub himself in between your two mounds.
Wooyoung pops his mouth off of your bruised nipple, hazy eyes and all as he stares at your beat face, “Y/N-ie, I just know you’ll jerk me off so good. Have me shooting out sperm into your hand.”
Their words almost made you finish right then and there.
They all want you, and they want you bad, so much so that they’re willing to break your body for satisfaction. It’s almost fascinating.
“You okay with this, Y/N?” Hongjoong asks one final time, because once they get started, he isn’t sure any of them will be able to stop, “You’ll be fine with us wrecking you?”
You slowly drop your eyes to him, the friendly face that you had seen at the vending machines last night, and the face you saw when he was orgasming all over your face. You pan over to Yunho and Mingi, both who made your History lecture a lot more entertaining, and yet had the absolute desire to fuck you raw.
Wooyoung stares at you with his ever playful expression, one you remember seeing in high school, and also when he went down on you a night ago. Then there’s San, your motivator, always pushing you when it came to your shared major, and ultimately who wants you to swallow his seed as you take his cock whole.
Making note of each and every person, you breathe out a relaxed sigh before resting your head back onto the carpet and shutting your eyes, your own lust pulsing throughout your body, “Yes, I want you..” just saying it out loud is enough to make your pussy clench, “I want you guys to wreck me. I need you guys to.”
The boys exchange looks with one another and it’s clear what’s racing through their heads. That you’re done for. And so, without another word, they lunge onto you.
Hongjoong flops his back down next to you on the ground as he simultaneously shimmies out of his pants to better pull his cock out. Mingi and Yunho have a grip on your forearms and it seems they’re giving the older time to get himself ready.
Once he’s fully out, he throws a signal to the others, “Alright, help her on top.”
On his command, they lift you up and to the side, you now hovering directly above Hongjoong. You’re facing away from the action, almost oblivious to the madness ensuing behind you.
“Fuck- I…should we put her down slowly?” Yunho asks and was that a…sliver of concern you heard?
Hongjoong brings his chin down and gets a face full of your ass. You’re so close to his cock. He could buck his hips forward and penetrate you like that, but even he isn’t that sadistic, “Ah..hold on.”
You wonder what’s taking so long. Is he starting to reconsider? Granted, he was one of the reasons why-
“Oh shit!” Your butt immediately squeezes against the 3 wet fingers lodged into your ass.
“Just needa get her prepped really quick,” Hongjoong moves his fingers in and out of your hole, bringing on a sensation you’ve never felt before. You’re verbally whining at his movements while the others take in your groans.
Pumping just a few more times, he finally pulls his fingers out, “Okay, okay she should be good now.”
“Go slow.” San adds as the two begin lowering you down onto Hongjoong’s awaiting cock, so plump and tall, and ready to take you. At the initial touch of his head, you do sharp inhale.
“It’s alright, you can take me.” Hongjoong supplies as he brings his hands to your hips, helping you down, “You’re doing so good.”
You feel yourself spreading wider the more his cock fills you, and by goodness have you never felt this way before. You’re shutting your eyes completely shut and pressing your lips together. You try to remember the pain of having sex for the first time and this feels similar.
“Almost there, just hold out for me.” Hongjoong calls out to you while eyeing himself, watching as his dick disappears into your ass, and if he were a worse guy, he might’ve started driving his hips into you right away. But, he’s not, and so he allows you time to adjust on his stiff self.
San regards your tense expression, then peers over Hongjoong who appears to be controlling himself, “How’s it feel?”
“Like I’m gonna cum in her any second now.” He gasps then releases his head down to the ground, “Y/N, let me know when you’re ready.”
You give yourself a bit more time, causally squirming and wriggling against the foreign sensation. Getting on seemed to be the hard part and so after mentally preparing yourself, you give Hongjoong a small glance over your shoulder, “O-Ok, I think I’m ready.”
At those words, Yunho and Mingi free their grip on you, backing up a little to watch this unfold. Hongjoong’s hands are still on your hips, anchoring you to him as he shifts around beneath. He wasn’t lying when he said to San he’s holding himself back, you really are making this difficult for him.
“You got this,” Hongjoong murmurs then right at that moment, he starts to hump himself into you, getting a feel for the friction of right now.
“Oh, look at her face.” Yunho beams as he sees your face contorting with a mix of different emotions. The pain is still there, but it feels with every thrust it’s gently fading away.
“Aww, Mingi’s about ready to fuck himself into you, can’t you tell?” Wooyoung teases which causes you to creek your eyes open to the tall boy who’s watching hard, a hand unhurriedly stroking his exposed dick. You aren’t even sure when he took off his pants.
“Mingi,” Your tone is breathy and you feel as if you’re glazed by him masturbating, “Are you ready?”
He simply walks over to you while you feel yourself being pushed back onto Hongjoong’s chest by Yunho, now laying flatly on top of him. Hongjoong’s breaths hit the nape of neck almost instantly. Your knees are split apart and from Mingi’s perspective, he can clearly see the Senior continuously pushing his cock in and out of your asshole.
He gathers between your legs, pushing your legs even father apart while watching out for Hongjoong’s thighs which are directly below him. Fuck, is it taking everything in him to not just give your clit a quick slap.
“You’re about to have both of your holes filled,” Mingi works his eyes up to your chest and how floppy your tits are bouncing, “I should be asking if you’re ready.”
“Mmm, just go.” You could hardly get that out in one breath with Hongjoong gradually picking up his pace. You produce more grunts the faster he goes, but at the feeling of Mingi slipping his tip into your entrance, it makes you borderline shriek.
“Holy fuck.” He sighs, registering that his cock’s coated right off the bat in your slickness, “Dunno if I can let you cum first, you feel so good.”
He holds back another moan as he pushes himself all the way in, and it feels almost cynical to say that you think you notice some of your liquid dripping out of your cunt and down to your ass, wetting Hongjoong’s working cock.
“Am I good? Can I get on top of her now?” Yunho’s eagerness is ever apparent, any mild concern he had for you long gone. He saw the way your confused face beforehand has now morphed into one expression. And by the looks of it, you’re in paradise.
“Hurry up.” Mingi shudders when your pussy gives him a quick squeeze, and he begins a rocking motion inside of you.
Yunho wastes not another second in straddling your chest, swinging a leg over your torso and propping himself right underneath your tits. His pants have been long-gone, discarded in the other pile of bottoms and underwears left by the others.
“Been waiting too long for this,” he breaths out, his hands going straight to your breasts like magnetics. Despite his large body on top of you, Yunho keeps a conscious of not completely crushing you with his weight, and only slightly hovers above.
His dick lays perfectly in the middle of your cleavage, and he clutches your soft flesh within his palms, pushing and pulling at you. He aligns himself till the base of his cock is with your tits, then even he starts to thrust mildly in between you, squishing your sensitive breasts against his rocking hard-on.
“Look, you’re letting yourself get fucked in three different positions right now.” Wooyoung draws notice to this fact with a large grin on his face, him leisurely stroking his cock in one hand. He can’t help but stare in amazement at your priceless expressions, you babbling incoherent sentences while your eyes go white. You look fucked out.
“My turn. You’ve been acting so well for everyone else, I’m hoping you’ll do the same for me.” San utters as he dips down onto his knees. His own pants and underwear, along with the others, are off, and he aimlessly pleasures himself.
Opening your eyes, you roll your head to the side and see the head of San’s cock staring right at your face. It feels almost as if it’s begging for entrance into your mouth, and you couldn’t wait any longer. You timidly widen your lips, big enough to fit at least the tip into your mouth and he dives himself straight into it.
“Oh-!” You warm mouth feels even better than he remembered, you covering his erection so well his eyes are wavering open and shut. He pushes himself deeper into your mouth and stretches you to no length possible, as you basically allow him to slowly start fucking your face.
“You’re so damn tight,” Hongjoong’s speed over the course has increased significantly, now at a rhythm where he isn’t concerned about hurting you. The pain has faded at this point, and to hear his jagged breaths struggle while bucking into your ass makes you whimper.
“Mm! Mm! Mm!” Any moan that’s wanting to escape you is muffled by San’s cock, him quietly murmuring to himself of how delicious your whines feel when he gets to absorb them.
You almost start to grow limp as your arms fall. Surely, you’ve submitted to them long ago, but now, having nearly every part of your body packed and used is making you stupid. You can’t think anymore. You can’t even speak. Only the timely pumps by them all is enough to keep you mentally here.
Your left hand rests against the ground, palm facing up, and you believe you’re safe to keep it there, a part of you that’s still left unoccupied, but when bulky skin comes down onto your palm, rubbing against the grain, you knew that wouldn’t be the case. Even though you couldn’t see, your head being turned the other way for San, it only made sense who it is.
“Y/N-ie, don’t forget about me.” You could hear the pout in Wooyoung, whining a bit more, though he’s already stroking himself faster into your hand. With each move, he’s leaving behind trails of wetness, lubing up his cock for when you instinctively wrap your fingers around him.
You begin to jack him off the best you could with what little strength you have, every so often you being forced to stop when Mingi would hit you at a certain angle. Yet, it’s apparent Wooyoung doesn’t necessarily care about you getting him off, but rather having your hand as a fuck toy for over time he starts to develop his own pace within your grasp. Now even he gets to fuck you like a play thing, all of them are.
Yunho’s hips are faster now, his hands working hard to grab and circle your breasts while he continues to drives his cock in between them. He’s never felt arousal like this before, your tits mushing his whole dick in a manner that sends jolts of pleasure through his tip and straight to his ballsack.
Mingi’s pounding into your needy cunt, him watching you swallow his dick whole every time he humps into you, “Feel- so- fuc…fucking- amazing.” The collection of spit he’s built up over the course is threatening to spill out, and so gathering a large amount, he pushes it all to the front, sending his saliva directly onto your clit.
It’s a power move. Showing that he can just as easily spit on you as he can fuck you into oblivion. And even if you wanted to be disgusted by this, you’re still the one rocking your own pelvis against both him and Hongjoong, whom’s mouth is practically on your inner shoulder.
He’s mumbling incoherent things, you thinking you could hear a repetition of ‘shit’ a countless number of times, all gradually getting higher. You nearly wail when he sinks his teeth into your skin from behind, biting the crease between where your shoulder and neck meet. It was amove to stop him from whining too loud.
“Mmm, fuck, I think I’m close…” San says out loud to the group, and even you could tell a while ago he was trying to hold back. His hips have decreased significantly in speed, and is only giving a thrust every other second. Despite this, your mouth still gurgles around him in a way that pleases him. Though he tried to postpone his orgasm, you just make it so damn difficult.
Wooyoung’s bucks into your hand have also turned from the consistent movement to a more sporadic rhythm, and he starts to lose his senses. The more he focuses on your hand around him, just letting him fuck your palm, the more he felt he was gonna blow at any second, “You’re so…so fucking nasty for this…” He was trying to shame you for it all, but his tone is a dead-giveaway that you’re making him go insane.
“Y/N, fuck you and your perfect tits,” Yunho’s grunting on top of you as his lower body begins to stutter, “Been making me wanna…wanna cum all over you from the moment I saw you.”
“Her pussy’s so fucking possessive, keeps devouring my cock like it’s starved,” Mingi huffs out, finding that his once even pace has turned irregular. He’s holding onto your knees for support while trying his damn hardest to restrain himself for as long as possible, “Gonna- gonna finish all in you, Y/N.”
And you. You were beyond the point of breaking. You’ve felt your orgasm practically hitting from the moment Hongjoong stuck his cock inside of you, but you’re good. You listen. They tell not you not to cum until they do, and you oblige.
But now, you’re done holding back. Every part of your body is being used, filling you, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. It’s a miracle you’re still alive. Now finally, it’s going to be all over.
You wiggle your hips desperately against Mingi, squeeze your hand so well for Wooyoung, let Yunho abuse your tits, and take San’s cock all the way to the back of your throat.
You’d think one of them would be the first to finish, but when Hongjoong relinquishes your skin, a throaty groan aiming straight into your ear, that’s when you feel a spurt of liquid shooting up into your asshole as he calls out, “Oh, fuck me!”
And that was enough for your own orgasm to come. Like a punch to your gut, both you and Hongjoong cum together, your legs quaking heavily as his sticky substance begins leaking out. Everyone could hear it, your attempt at a wail as your hips start to stutter, your walls clenching aggressively against Mingi’s cock which in turn causes him to pulsate.
Next thing you know, he’s ejaculating all into your cunt, holding himself down to where the only thing he can do is fill you up as you continue to shake beneath him, “Holy shit.” He groans in a strained voice.
Yunho blows his load the second he feels your body convulsing, his own mocking yours in the way his stomach thrashes while his warm, gooey nut leaves his tip and heads right for your chest. He manages to get some on your sternum, just like he said he wanted, but he finds he’d rather just cover your breasts. Ripping his cock away, he begins jerking himself throughout the rest of his orgasm, spilling out and all over your tits.
The feeling of their liquid makes your eyes vibrate, you buzzing another moan against San and he loses it. He’s releasing his ejaculation down your throat, keeping your head still as he’s dispensing more and more of himself inside of you, “You take me s-so good.”
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” The unsteady motion of Wooyoung’s thrusts is evident of that, the way cum is already start to permeate through his head and all over your hand, but quickly you feel more strings of it covering your palm. He’s still grinding his himself into your grip, an ungodly whimper falling from his lips.
You continue riding out your high, while in their own variations, they all do the same. Whether it’s grunting or whining, the combination of moans from them makes you aroused like no other. Eventually, the bucking of their hips slow, and you stop feeling additional liquid hitting your body, indicating that their moments are nearing the end.
You’re still producing after-shocks, even as they begin to detach themselves from you. Wooyoung pulls his somehow half-hard cock from your hand, Yunho standing up and removing his weight from your torso, but quickly falling over to the ground.
San’s too in love with how wonderful your mouth feels on him, but even he knows it’s time to give you a break. Both Mingi and Hongjoong separate themselves at the same time, with Mingi pulling out first and then Hongjoong, only after a pair of hands lift you up.
Your eyes are shut, and you hadn’t noticed before but drool’s dripping down the sides of your face, along with part of San’s cum, yet you didn’t care. You’re placed gently back onto the ground as a form of recovery for you to lay there which you do.
With no thoughts in your head, no worries present, you simply bask in the after effects of what had happened. Not even a feeling of guilt or embarrassment reside in you. Only a clear head and drips of cum sliding around your skin.
You almost start to doze off again, eyelids growing heavy and a deep sigh overtakes you, when a voice lets out a yawn, smacking their lips a bit before talking, “Oh wow, it’s already 11.”
You don’t respond immediately to that, your sleep consuming your brain but then you think. There’s no way it could be 11. You always did tutoring for the younger students at 10:30 or so on Sundays, and you’ve never been late to a session before.
But, if the time is truly right, then that means…
Just as quickly as you had shut your eyes, you’re flinging them back open, panic flooding throughout your whole body.
“Oh, god!”
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— Bonus —
Little, bookworm Y/N, studious as always, is the one you see in the front row of classes, meekly raising a hand to answer the umpteenth question with ever-lasting knowledge. Your teachers knew you as a such. Reliable, punctual, intelligent, just an absolute delight to have in class.
Never once have you been a disturbance, nor have you have had the intent of being one. Which is why you were selected as a peer mentor in your History class, helping those who struggled in the subject you excelled quite well in.
So, you can only imagine the quizzical look on Professor Park’s face when you barge nearly an hour late into your tutoring session, fumbling and juggling your book bag around along with your papers and text books.
On top of that, instead of making your way down to your usual spot near him, you cut through the middle aisles, brushing past rows of chairs then plopping down in a set of empty seats. Most of the other students give quick glances to you, also confused by your truancy.
“Oh….?” Your professor stares at you in awe, taking in your somewhat disheveled appearance. Your shirt appears 2 sizes too big, hair thrown in any kind of way, and when he asks you to move closer towards the group, he watches as your pants hang awkwardly off of your body.
“I’m so sorry, Professor Park.. I-I” The excuses tumble out of your mouth, each step you take to descend down to the base of the room chopping up your words, “It was a complete accident. I hadn’t intended on being so late.”
After your apologies, you reach the bottom of the stairs and walk past the Frenchman in shame. Because of you being late, Professor Park had to take over your usual group, leading a mini-lesson that he has written on the board.
He brings up a somber hand to try and calm you down, his slender fingers waving softly in front of your face, “It’s alright, just take over your group like normal and I’ll fini-”
You do a quick brush past him, your scent blowing right after, and the whiff he gets is enough to make him stop his sentence. Setting your things down near the rest of the group, you go to turn around when you notice it. His whole demeanor’s changed, a sudden stiffness to him that he didn’t have before and instantly you grow nervous.
“P-Professor, are you okay?” Had he actually been upset with you? Oh, who’re you kidding. Of course he should be, you had completely, and utterly messed up.
The watchful look he gives lasts for a couple of more seconds before he registers what you had said, and just like that, he snaps out of it. Blinking, he clears his throat and shakes his head briefly, you seeing part of his dark hair swaying with the motion. He stammers out, “Yes, yes, Y/N. Handle your group for the last 30 minutes, and I’ll handle mine.”
You nod at his words, immediately twisting to the students and going straight into your teaching. Professor Park’s eyes linger on you a bit longer as he drops them down to fully take in your attire, then eventually going to speak with his group.
As he assigns them a writing prompt and allowing time for them to complete it, he finds his mind wandering back to you. His ideal, and perfect student. And to your noticeably large shirt, combined with your wide black pants. Your face was also a dangerous shade of red when you had came in, but even he had just brushed it off as you being tired from sprinting to the session.
It all makes sense now.
The powerful scent you had, strong enough to make him stop in his tracks and stare at you, because never in his months of knowing you, would he have expected you to reek of sex. So blatantly too.
The all-too familiar smell of cum radiated off of you, and your lips were abnormally bigger than usual, most likely from you taking someone’s cock. He almost wants to laugh, he’s so shocked by this revelation.
You’d been getting fucked when you should have been here on time. Professor Park thinks about that again. You, his punctual and reliable student, had been getting fucked when you knew you had to be tutoring.
His gaze dances towards you once more and your animated smile. He knows you only reveal such a grin whenever one of your students says something right. Most of the time he’d find it amusing, this time it makes him scoff.
You’re fucking dirty, he thinks. And he absolutely hates how a throb begins to pulse in his pants. Now, he’s pissed, and it’s all your fault.
A beep from his pocket derives his concentration from you and your antics, and he quietly excuses himself. He gives the students more time to work on the prompt, as he stands closer to the board, yanking his phone from his backside.
There’s a message from one of his former students, one he had a few years ago, and admittedly, Professor Park’s slightly shocked by the surprise text.
11:24 AM
Kim Hongjoong:
- you’ll never guess who i was just with hwa.
- a real fucking freak, i’ll tell ya.
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¡Arriba! : “Enjoying this dirty night to escape.”
» pairing: fem!reader x OT5 (kim hongjoong, jeong yunho, choi san, song mingi, jung wooyoung)
» summary: being a bookworm, you’re used to your regular schedule of simply studying, eating, oh, and the occasional sleeping. it isn’t until one night, you find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time, and soon get swept up in one of the craziest games you’ve ever heard. in hindsight, maybe you should’ve declined. but it was only supposed to last for one night. one, dirty night.
» w.c: 12.5k (was not aiming for this number, but this what you get)
» genre & warnings: college au, alcohol consumption, heavy kissing, oral (m. & f. receiving), tit sucking, leaving of hickies, praises, corruption, voyeurism SO MUCH, humiliation kink (reader gets embarrassed a lot), teasing, reader c*ms untouched, BUKAKKE (look it up if you don’t know what it means), no intercourse in here but there’s a shit ton of other stuff, spit mention? titty!obsessed yunho, unknown obsession w/ reader, pussydrunk wooyoung, if i were to make a pt. 2, it would be a gang bang, just saying.
» a/n: this is the first edition of my T!TS UP series, hopefully it was worth the wait! (im so so sorry for taking 19 days to upload this, yes i counted how long since i posted that teaser🙏)
» LINK TO T!TS UP SYNOPSIS HERE
» taglist: @mingyuslice @facioleeknow @sharksandminhos @yakosobaboba @xcynthiaaa @hyukssunflower @tiny-apocalypse @pearltinyy @therealcuppicake @kxrta @hrts4hanniehae @softwsan @certifiedmoa @stayskz143 @isabel-018
if your name is crossed off, i still couldn’t find you
| Pt.2 Out Now
Mmmm, no that’s not right either.
The bites on your pencil has increased significantly as you start to chew on the end, never have being so stumped at a problem before.
You’d been rolling through your homework with ease, and even finding somewhat joy at solving these difficult questions. The answers were just flowing right out of you. Until this one.
What if I squared- wait, that doesn’t work for these kinds of theories.
You stare at the paper.
But I’ve reduced the ratio up until here, so how come………….oh!
Instant eagerness returns as you quickly realize what went wrong. And just in the matter of a few seconds, you’re able to work out the rest of the problem and eventually submit your homework.
Sighing happily, you reach your arms up to stretch and straighten out your back. Sitting at the same desk for the past 3 hours, although comfortably, has been draining. Goodness, were you ready for a much needed break.
Fixing your hair, you stand up, your pajama pants falling to the ground and begin scuffling to your communal bathroom.
Sharing with 3 other girls has its difficulties, you won’t deny that, but on Saturday nights like this where all 3 are out -and probably won’t be home till the next morning- you were thankful to get the space all to yourself.
You do your business, wash your hands and right as you step back into your room, a low rumble emits from below. It’s your stomach practically yelling for food.
Oh, that’s another bad habit of yours. Since often you’d find yourself getting so caught up in your workload, more times than not, you wind up forgetting to eat. And also sometimes pee.
Even as you check your nearby clock resting on the night stand, reading 12:49 AM, determination, and maybe the high you still rode from solving that problem, drives you to venture out for food.
So, that’s exactly what you do.
Throwing on some fuzzy slippers, you don’t bother putting on a shirt to cover your tank, believing it’ll take you less than 5 minutes to find a simple vending machine and head back.
Quietly, you open your door and peer down both ends of the corridor. Both are equal distance from a couple of machines close by, so just choosing whatever, you make a left and patter down the hall.
As you’re walking, you can’t help but notice a sort of stillness in the air, one that you can’t quite pinpoint. Like everyone’s disappeared and you’re the only one left.
You finally reach the end and walk into the common area, where on most days are packed, but for tonight is eerily quiet. The vending machine glows off into the corner and your tummy croaks in gratefulness.
Hmm, what am I in the mood for? Ambling over, you stop in front of it and ponder. I could get something simple like the cookie package. Or maybe the baked chips, I think those are good.
So many options, you’re getting overwhelmed. As you continue scanning through your options, you unexpectedly get filled with the sounds of footsteps shuffling across the hard floor, and soon a boy comes into view from the far side of the room.
“Always have to do everything myself.” He’s grumbling to himself, eyes pointed downwards as he scratches the back of his head.
Your eyes are wide as you just stare at him walking closer and closer to you, till eventually the boy glances up and you two lock eyes. And it’s then you recognize him.
“Kim Hongjoong?” Your voice raises at the end as you’re genuinely surprised at his presence. He’s a senior in one of your classes, Ethics, and wow, is it shocking to see him here.
From what you know, he doesn’t live in this housing unit nor have you ever seen him around. So, what’s he doing here? His own face contorts with shock while his legs slow to a halt, tilting his head to the side.
“Y/N, what a surprise,” Starting with your head, his gaze takes notice to your attire and travels downwards, “You just wake up?”
You follow his eyes and try to suppress the sheer amount of embarrassment rising inside of you, “Oh- um, no…”
“Needed a late night snack?” He tries again, a small corner tugging up at his lips.
You lift your head and couldn’t help the sheepish grin spreading wide, “Mmm.”
Hongjoong lets out a short laugh, “Understandable. My friends were craving those powdered donuts and cookies, and tasked me with getting them.”
“Ooh!” You turn towards the snack display and regard the white packaging, “I could get the donuts.”
He watches your expression change from quizzical to astonishment, and his eyebrows scrunch. As if you’re a puzzle and he’s having difficulty figuring you out.
He murmurs before shifting just a slight bit closer to you, “What’re you doing up anyways? I didn’t peg you as the night owl type.”
The smile you bore remains on your face, moving your head back to the boy, “When I got done with my homework, my stomach was growling.”
“Growling.” He repeats, an amused tone to his sentence.
“Growling.” You emphasize again and he could only offer a nod.
He waits a beat before going to speak, “It’s Saturday, though.”
Looking back at him, you meekly shrug, not really seeing what that had to do anything, then rotate again to the vending machine, “Yeah, perfect time to get it done. None of my roommates are home so it’s easier to concentrate.”
Hongjoong hums at your words, “All by yourself, then? Isn’t it lonely?”
“Well,” When phrasing it like that, you find it does put a minor dip in your mood, “I’m always too caught up in my assignments to really notice.”
Instead of immediately responding to you, he allows your words to hang in the air. You think you might’ve just said something out of the ordinary, glancing back to Hongjoong in an attempt to reexplain, when you notice him staring at your backside.
Then, without warning, you feel a pinch at the fabric of your waistband. A soft gasp escapes your lips as warm fingers pull at your pants and tug them upwards, “Y/N, your pajama’s are so cute. You can’t have them lopsided like that.”
You’re a deer in headlights while he goes to meet your eyes. As his gaze lingers on you, you find it more than difficult to reciprocate the action. Your cheeks feel hot, and the stutter that quickly comes when going to answer further shows your awkwardness, “O-Oh, um…”
The spot still burns from where he had touched you and it makes you lose your train of thought. It isn’t until your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a distraction, and catch glimpse of the powdered donuts in the machine, “What-what about your friends? They’re waiting for you still, right? You should be con-considerate of them, and bring them back their snacks.”
Hongjoong takes in your new demeanor, with him watching your body language, and god, are you something else. How swiftly you go from advocating for yourself, excitement radiating from you, to a stumbling mess of words; it actually fascinates him.
“Right,” he follows in your footsteps and puts attention back to the donuts, the fond smile on his lips evermore growing, “They did want me back quick.”
“Yes, yes.” You affirm in a more stern manner, hoping this copes with your unsure state.
“I’ll just tell them I got distracted by something cute.” He caps off his statement with a glance over at you and you look back at him, a stunned expression present.
He does a once over at your outfit, “Your pants.”
You now understand what he means and respond by shaking your head ‘yes’. Because of course he was referring to your pants.
This time, an audible laugh emits from the boy. He has to throw a hand over his face to stop himself from showing too much of his teeth. Fuck, he is finding so much entertainment from this.
You don’t fully comprehend what’s happening, or why Hongjoong’s outwardly making claims such as this. In all honesty, this is probably the most interaction you’ve had with him in all four months of knowing the Senior, and you’ve come to realize: he’s pretty odd.
“I should-” You start right as Hongjoong goes to speak.
“You should come back to my friend’s dorm with me. It’ll be fun with you there.”
And further embarrass yourself? Absolutely, not.
“I can’t- I shouldn’t,” you bring your hands to fumble around with the hem of your tank and deliberately avoid eye contact with him, “It’s late and I was planning on heading to um..bed soon….so it- I shouldn’t.”
When you finally drag your eyes up to Hongjoong, the friendly expression he wears somehow puts you at an instant ease, “Just stop by. And then if you wanna leave, I’ll walk you back to your dorm. That sound okay?”
The way he spoke, so nonchalant and so caring, honestly made you feel stupid. Like you have no reason to feel insecure.
But this was all new for you. You don’t hang out with friends, you don’t go out on Saturday nights, that’s not you. And you don’t have a problem with it. At least, you hadn’t before.
Then, here comes this boy, who extends an invite to you. He’s giving you a chance to venture outside of your safety room. He sees you. So, albeit hesitantly, you make an internal decision to join him. Plus, you knew well you weren’t actually going to sleep.
“That..that actually sounds nice.” You agree, and Hongjoong grins.
As he goes to answer you, he’s reaching into his back pocket in search of the crumpled bills he later pulls out, “Let me get the guys their snacks, then we can head over there.”
You step back and allow him to cut in front of you. He shoves the money into the slot, enough to get multiple things of junk, and you watch as he requests 2 packages of the donuts and a package of cookies.
Once they all drop to the bottom, Hongjoong bends down to the retrieve the snacks.
“Oh, you got two-?” Him shoving one of the donuts in your hand cause you to pause.
“Here, since it’s my fault you’re craving them now.” He states and you take the snack with gratefulness. You thank him graciously and he simply rejects it, claiming it really was no big deal, then starts to make strides back to the dormitory and you follow behind.
The two of you twists around a corridor and walk down what seems like a never-ending hallway.
“You’re too kind, Hongjoong. Inviting me out, buying me stuff.” You quietly gush behind your senior while he holds in a chuckle. You’re too cute.
“Really, I don’t mind one bit.” He slows down once he’s in front of a room and so do you, assuming that his friend’s dorm is the one with the white board that has ‘WE’RE NOT BEING LOUD, YOU’RE JUST QUIET.’ written in big, bolded letters on the door.
The sounds of faint bickering could be heard from the other side so slowly, you peer towards Hongjoong, "Is everything okay?"
He's harboring a somber gaze then lets out a slow, controlled sigh, "Knowing them, probably not."
With that being said, he grabs hold of the handle before throwing the door in, announcing your guys' entrance.
The sight you're met with is unruly, though quickly you take notice of how familiar you are with every single person in the room.
There sat in nearby chairs are Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi, both from your History class, cackling at the scene unfolding right before their eyes of Choi San and Jung Wooyoung slapping and throwing hits at one another.
Choi San is an English major just like you, and you've known Jung Wooyoung since high school. But, wow, you hadn't realized they all new each other.
"You gonna talk about me again?" Choi San threatens the junior whom he's currently hurting, applying pressure to the nape of his neck.
"Aish, aish!" Jung Wooyoung winces at the pain though a crooked smile is present on his face, "What're you, a fucking barbarian? Get off."
"What the fuck are you two doing?" Hongjoong rushes over to deescalate the situation. He shoves Choi San into a corner and rolls Jung Wooyoung the other way, "I wasn't even gone for that long and already you guys try to kill each other."
At that statement, another uproar ensues. All of the boys shouting at him, yelling claims of "You took fucking forever!" "The hell?!" And other variations.
You raise your shoulders and tuck yourself inwards at the commotion yet, part of you seemingly enjoying the racket. A soft giggle flows out of you, which in turn makes your presence known.
“Y/N?” Jung Wooyoung questions first.
All pairs of eyes briskly dart to you, some bearing perplexed expressions, others with stunned looks as there you stood, pajama’s and all, in the middle of Jung Wooyoung’s dormitory.
“Why’re you here?” Choi San adds and right as you go to respond to them, Hongjoong’s quick to answer for you, retracting his hands off of the boys and pushing himself up.
“We met at the vending machines, and I invited her back.” He’s sauntering over to you now, an all-knowing smirk in place. He leans down just a smidge when he’s inches away from your face and lowly speaks, “Want me to tell them about the distraction?”
You instantly hip at that, whatever calm manner you had dissipating by the second. It wasn’t subtle either as everyone eyes you and Hongjoong’s encounter.
“She didn’t have anything else to do, and was more than happy to come here.” He continues while his gaze stays on your face.
“I…” You open your mouth as if you have something to follow up with, but then instantly close it and opt to let Hongjoong’s reply suffice. For the most part, that is pretty much what happened.
After the wave of confusion from the boys, comes a round of cheers. They’re all welcoming you in as Hongjoong walks you over to the group, and you’ve never felt more comfortable yet red-faced in your life.
You plop down on the floor between Mingi and Yunho, both of them inches above you in rolling chairs, and enjoy the swellness of want being produced from everyone, they want you here.
“Did you just wake up?” Wooyoung asks as he scoots his way back over to the rest of the group, and you shake your head ‘no’.
“She’s been up all night doing homework.” Hongjoong smiles from the far corner and the response brings in a collection of oh’s.
“You’re so smart,” San coos while sprawling himself out on the floor, him now laying on his side and propping his head up with a hand, “Wanna help me out with my shit?”
Before you could speak up, a package of cookies get thrown at his back, a burst of laughter filling the air. San yelps from the impact and the culprit, Hongjoong, wades his way closer to everyone.
“Don’t go dragging Y/N into your bullshit, do it yourself.” The Senior throws the other package of donuts to Yunho, who catches it effortlessly, then takes a seat right behind San on the floor.
Instead of arguing, San simply huffs and goes to grab at and eat the cookies while the rest of the group moves forward in conversation.
“So, what’ve you guys been up to tonight?” You gaze around the room, asking your first set of questions, only to get unexplainable looks in return from the bunch. They all stop making eye contact with you and glance at one another with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.
There’s a beat of silence when a nudge from a foot draws your attention to Mingi, who’s at first biting his lip but then releases it with narrow eyes, “You a snitch?”
“A…snitch?” You parrot, staring up into his face then softly shake your head no. The boys couldn’t get enough of your reactions.
Yunho’s mouth goes thin as he forces himself to look away from you right as Wooyoung watches you attentively. Just like to Hongjoong, you were an interesting thing to them, someone that intrigued them like no other.
And wouldn’t that make for an interesting night?
“Alright then,” Mingi concludes and San sits up, extending a hand underneath the bed. Before you could ask for a further explanation, a near-full bottle of alcohol gets pulled out then tossed to the middle of the mini circle you all have formed.
You regard the bottle with shock. Any form of alcohol is strictly prohibited on campus, and here in front of you lies tangible proof of it.
“Who put it underneath the bed?” Hongjoong inqueries while going in to reach for the drink. He’s eyeing San while unscrewing the cap, as San stares daggers at Mingi.
“Dumbass over here kicked it underneath there.”
“Yeah, fucking big foot.” Wooyoung interjects earning him and threatening look from Mingi.
“Ah,” Hongjoong, after getting the bottle opened, takes a big swig of the liquid, downing it with ease, “Was wondering where it went when Y/N and I came in here.”
A part of your heart raced at the actions unfolding. He passes the bottle off to Wooyoung, only after teasing him for it, then you listen as everyone scolds Wooyoung for being a hog. Out the corner of his eye, however, Yunho notices you fidget.
“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Yunho shifts to amorously watch you, drawn into your well-known rule follower persona, “You’ve never seen alcohol before?”
You feel all eyes turn to you as they await an answer. Of course you’ve seen alcohol before, knew what it is. Does he think you live under a rock? But still, the sight of it leaves a twinge bit of nervousness in the pit of your stomach.
“I have, actually.” Scatteredly, you bounce between looking at the boys while trying to sound steady, “I know my roommates like that a lot.”
“Yeah?” Wooyoung beams then leans in to place the bottle in the space between your legs, “Feeling like trying some now?”
You look down at it with uncertainty. You know this is wrong, this is so, completely, wrong, “Uh….”
“Don’t be scared.” San encourages, a tiny smirk taking over, and soon a ripple of motivation circulates throughout the room. The guys are all murmuring small praises, yet keeping watchful eyes on you, testing you.
One of your hands lifts to grab hold of the bottle’s neck, the other holding the bottom for support. You scan over the glass warily then hesitantly glance up to the others, “Do I just…”
You mock an action of drinking it which earns you a laugh from Hongjoong, “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Come on,” Mingi rests a palm on the back of your head, stroking you smoothly. The movement is so comforting that you don’t even realize him taking strands of your hair to wrap around his fingers, then ever so slowly he tilts your head backwards.
Instinctively, you raise your arms to guide the alcohol closer to you, and without another moment to think about it, you pour a stream of the lukewarm liquid down your throat.
“That’s it, just like that.” Yunho mutters sweetly as you continue spilling it down your throat, not really knowing when to stop.
Quickly, the burning catches up to you and reactively, you stop pouring the bitter alcohol and shoot your head forward, grimacing from the taste. Although it’d felt like you just inhaled a gallon of hand sanitizer, the congratulatory spurs, courtesy of the guys, makes up for it. They were proud of you, and it made you feel good.
San holds out his hand to you, indicating he wanted to be next, “Took it like a champ, Y/N. Good job.”
You lend the bottle to him and almost instantly, you swiftly make note of the alcohol coursing through your veins. Eyes big, a thump of reality hits you and deeply, you take in a breath while returning to your spot. Woah.
The passing of the bottle lasted for about the next 30 minutes, everyone taking turns in drinking. When it’d be close to your turn, you’d find yourself anticipating the action. Then when it came your time, all over again, you down the drink, make the most disgusted face, then hand it off to Mingi. And some time during it all, you had demolished those donuts Hongjoong supplied you with.
It’s exhilarating, the situation you’re in. It’s thrilling how you’re being commended for doing something defying. And you come to realize: maybe you actually needed a night like this.
“So, uh,” you start with a faint smile on your face, “Is this all you guys do? Drink and sit in a circle?”
Wooyoung has now made his way over to your lap, resting his head on top of your soft thigh, “Mmhmm. Sometimes, we’ll talk about other people too.”
“Oh, fun.” You smile but your attention gets captured by Mingi waving a hand out.
He’s attempting to get Wooyoung’s notice despite his lack of verbiage, “Yah, yah, what-uh…what was that game you had? That one you said we didn’t have enough players for?”
Wooyoung fails to move, instead choosing to keep his eyes shut and body close to you, “Who’s he talking to?”
A kick from Yunho sends him flying at that response, rolling off of you and makes him land on his back. You laugh amusingly as Wooyoung stumbles around to stand up.
“Okay, fine!” He whines, wavering around slightly while heading to his closet, “You guys have a fucking problem.”
Hongjoong’s laying with his back to the floor, chest up to the ceiling and yields his head to face you, “He’s always trying to get us to play this stupid game.”
“But we’ve never had enough players.” Yunho buzzes, moving from his spot in the chair to the open ground next to you.
“Not until our Y/N decided to join.” San’s tracing the exposed part of your ankle from your pants riling up, and you offer a content ‘mmm’.
“Got it.” Wooyoung uses a palm to shut the closet door, then comes back to the group with a small, red box in hand.
“What game is it?” You inquiry, bringing your head closer to the box when Wooyoung takes a spot in the middle of Hongjoong and Yunho.
Hongjoong peers over to him and begins reading off of the label, “Tits….Up.”
“The hell is this?” Mingi has the bottle currently and is resting his arms against his thighs, gripping the bottle in one hand. If you wanted to lean back, you’d touch his leg, that’s how close he is to you.
“It’s- It’s a drinking game,” Wooyoung studies the back of the box, and you happen to catch glimpse of a seductive pattern printed out on the packaging. The kissy lips are cute, you think as you aimlessly regard the box.
“So,” Yunho extends his arm out to cross in front you, the alcohol now being given to him, “How’d we play again?”
Wooyoung finally opens up the game, grabbing hold of the cards to shuffle them then instantly start to sort them out. All of the red-colored cards get grouped together, the pink-colored ones in a separate pile, then lastly the black cards lay flatly in the middle of it all.
“From what I remember, we all roll a die that tells us which color card to pick up.” He tries to grab the die out of the box but it ends up slipping out of his grip and flings towards your foot, “Whoops.”
“Ooh.” You pick it up and begin to browse, seeing the red’s and pink’s and black’s filling up different side’s of the die while the other squares have 2 ‘roll again’ and a ‘skip turn’ as the remaining options.
“Red is dare, pink is truth, and black means it’s a challenge.” Wooyoung finishes, which you could tell by him throwing down the instructions to the side of him.
“It’s just truth or dare, then?” You’re confused. If it is just truth or dare, then what’s the whole point of having this?
He shakes his head at your comment, a light laugh trickling out, “Just truth or dare? Yeah, on like steroids.”
Hongjoong retrieves the previously discarded manual and brings it to his face, “Don’t do the dares: drink, don’t do the truths: drink, don’t do the challenges: drink, drink, and drink.”
“There’s a number of shots listed at the bottom of every card, so if you choose to not do what’s on one of them then that’s the equivalent to it. That make sense?” Wooyoung explains and collectively, there’s murmurs of agreement.
“How do you win?” You perk up with a new sense of curiosity.
“Gotta have the most cards collected.” He shoots back and Hongjoong quietly confirms him.
“You only get the card if you complete what’s on it.”
“In other words, don’t be a pussy.” San teases.
Alright, you can do this. Your first drinking game, ever. Excitment’s buzzing all around you as Yunho bends down to pick up the die. So exciting.
“I’ll go first.” He says then goes to shake the cube in a closed fist. He releases the roll and all together, you watch the die travel down and around Wooyoung’s carpet, only stopping when it hits the edge of the box.
“Hmm, truth.” Hongjoong states as the rose-colored square is clearly shown upright.
Yunho reaches in to swipe one of the pink cards, turning it over, then reading aloud, “No secrets allowed, share one of your biggest turn-ons.”
Your eyebrows raise as the rest of the group hoots in await for his reply. Biggest turn on? Like…
“How many shots if you don’t answer?” Mingi asks, nodding his head in the direction of Yunho.
Yunho scans through the card till he’s at the bottom of it, “Uh, it only says one.” He says and goes to pocket the card, “That’s a fucking waste.”
You’re staring at him in awe, the suspense creeping up the walls of your stomach. What’s he gonna say? How much is he willing to expose? If you get a card like that, how much are you willing to expose?
He looks around the room while his thoughts churn, “My biggest turn on? I don’t…I guess I’ll….damn, there’s too many!”
“Just choose one.” Mingi sighs gruffly, and it’s then you decide to rest your back against his leg. It’s been brushing against your skin for some time now so, you know, maybe you need the extra support.
“Fine, just one?” Yunho catches his lip with a tooth, taking in the scenery when his eyes land on you. The eye contact doesn’t lasts too long, with him dropping his sight down briefly, too briefly for you to even wonder what he’s thinking, then he opens his mouth, “I like seeing stiff nipples through a shirt, the big, puffy ones especially. It’s so damn hot to me.”
Hongjoong immediately covers his mouth to control a snicker, San practically doing the same. Wooyoung holds in a smile and you’re left to speculate that maybe there’s something more to Yunho’s answer. And now, you’re feeling self-conscious.
“Leave Y/N alone, Yunho. You’re being a dick.” The voice behind you, Mingi, chastises.
At the mention of your name, you slowly glance down towards your chest and the embarrassment you had previously hits you like wave. You had absolutely no idea your nipples were erected, essentially sticking out miles from your tank top. They’re hard, and stiff, just like how he described them.
“Alright, fine,” Yunho throws an apologetic look your way, “But still, I’m serious. That kind of stuff turns me on.”
You want to cover yourself up, hide your chest away. You were basically flashing the boys unknowingly and yet, why does your heart start to beat irregularly? A sliver of you starts to feel shame. Is it wrong you seemingly like the attention? Enjoy the thought of knowing it was you who turned him on?
And in turn, maybe that makes you a little excited, but, a different kind. The kind you only feel when it’s late at night, your roommates are out, and have nothing but your fingers to keep you entertained.
“Should we pass it off to Y/N?” Someone questions which break you out of your state.
No way, at least not yet, “Actual- Actually, can I go last?”
The group regards you first, then pass the look off to Wooyoung who, if that’s the case, would be going next. He simply shrugs then snatches up the dice, going to roll.
In the midst of his turn, a hand is placed onto your leg, scaring you just a bit but also sending a jolt through your core, “Are you nervous now?”
San speaks quietly to you, and you look back behind your shoulder at him, “Just wanted to watch some more before I go.”
He shakes his head understandingly, but doesn’t immediately let go. It’s not until, Wooyoung announces getting ‘truth’ in which he remembers his placement on your leg. Though, he didn’t make much effort to remove himself fast.
Wooyoung’s already reading his card when you decide to hone back into the game, and you try to ignore the small build emitting inside of you. Or, is it just the alcohol? Yeah, probably just that.
“Get a good look at everyone,” He starts, “Let us know, who’s looking the most fuckable? And this one’s 2 shots if I don’t answer.”
A low ‘ooh’ rumbles in the crowd, including one from yourself. Wooyoung holds the card out to his chin, striking a ‘thinking’ pose while he examines everyone, “So hard.”
You sense your chest heaving up and down, anticipation flooding you. Wooyoung darts his eyes to one side of the room, then dramatically to other, but eventually an answer is made.
“Sannie’s been working out a lot more lately,” A sly grin spreads on Wooyoung’s face, eyeing the junior who’s currently fake flexing, and then they roll over to you, “But I think little Y/N has to be my pick. You’re just looking too good right now. So, fuckable was it?”
You ‘eep’, and before you could think, you’re throwing a hand over your face to cover the immense blush you wear. Where do these guys get off on embarrassing you like this?
He lets out a menacing laugh, knowing you’d react as such. Sometimes, he just couldn’t help himself when it came to messing with you. You just make it too easy for him.
“Wow, how’s it feel being the center of attention, Y/N?” Hongjoong smiles, taking the dice from Wooyoung’s possession and you could only offer a head shake as your reply.
San follows up next, watching you with such a fondness, “I don’t know, guys, I’m thinking she’s starting to like this.”
You drop your hands, now ready to face the group, and the intensity of your jolt worsens. It’s almost starting to feel, to feel like a throb. And instead of it residing in just your core, you could recognize it radiating to other places.
“Hongjoong, just go.” You sigh out, borderline disgusted with yourself at the new realization that you’re genuinely enjoying this. That you are getting incredibly turned on by the humiliation.
He does as you say, rolling the dice and retrieving a card after earning the first ‘dare’, but instead of reading it out loud to the rest of the group, Hongjoong looks it over in his head. His face is changing from confusion, to perplexity, then ultimately, revolution.
Placing the card back in the middle of the pile, he requests for the bottle which San hands, then takes his first shot. The rest of you guys are surprised by this decision, some of you going in to hound Hongjoong about what card he grabbed.
“Not gonna tell.” Is all he says before taking a whopping 4 swigs of alcohol back to back and shuddering every single time.
“Holy shit!” Wooyoung cackles out, amused by the older student’s willingness to not compete.
“It was worth 5 shots?” Yunho’s voice cracks and you’re left stunned. Just what was on that card?
Hongjoong tosses the die over to San, the next person to go, while he tries his best to ignore the way everyone’s watching him. No matter the looks, no matter the gazes, there’s no way in hell he’d ever reveal what was on it.
San rolls out the cube and it lands on ‘truth’. He reaches down and picks up the pink card, and unlike the senior, does read it aloud everyone, “What’s the dirtiest thing you masturbated to?”
While San lets out a disgruntled huff, Wooyoung brightens up right away, shooting an arm into the air and beaming, “Oh! Oh! I can answer this, please, let me tell them how fucking weird you are.”
“I’ll kill you,” San lowers his head, rather intimidatingly, and extends an arm out for the bottle, “It’s only 2 shots, I’ll just take that.”
Hongjoong proceeds to give him the alcohol, and San downs his shots like it was nothing. After him, is Mingi, who’s been decently far away from all of the action.
“Awww, Mingi, come down here with the rest of us. You look like a loner.” Wooyoung belittles, causing the boy behind to scoff harshly. But even then, he still does it, scooting himself off of the chair and making his way down to the ground.
You get booted off from his leg as he’s moving, though, once he has his position in front of the chair and propping himself up against that, he signals you to rest again on him, this time allowing you to lean back on his chest. He widens out his legs to get you comfortable, and now, you recline into him.
The action was so nonchalant, hardly any thought behind it, that no one even gave you two crap for it. However, they all stare enviously at the boy, “Someone give me the die.”
San fulfills his wish and does so, Mingi immediately going straight into throwing it down. The die rolls around till it lands on a red square, signaling the need for a ‘dare’. He doubles over to reach for a card, taking you down with him, and selects one of the ones at top before returning back.
He’s secretive of his card, pulling the same stunt Hongjoong did. Curiously, however, you peer over towards him. And so Mingi, all the while not taking his eyes off of the card, crosses his unoccupied arm in front of you and grabs hold of your cheek, forcibly turning you to the other side.
He mutter-reads the card softly to himself as you find humor in the way he had dealt with you, your cheek smushing against your mouth. After a period, he drops the card and extends an arm out to San, signaling him to pass the alcohol over.
“What the- you guys are pussies.” Yunho chides while Wooyoung shakes his head disapprovingly.
“Oh, booo. Y/N, do you know what this means?” He asks you, Mingi lowering his other arm so you could crane your neck back to Wooyoung.
The anxiety bubbling inside renders you clueless at the thought of knowing you’re next up, and so you stare blankly at him, “What does it mean?”
“Unless you want everything to go tits up, you need to do what’s on the cards. No matter what it says.” He finishes off his statement with a shrug, and Yunho nods encouragingly.
You feel a drop in your palm as Mingi hands you over the die, nervousness flowing through you, “I- okay.”
Your heart is pounding against your rib cage when you start to shake your enclosed hand, a mix between sweat and fear coating the cube. You release it shortly after and watch it roll around in front of you.
Eventually, the velocity of it slows and the wild spinning stops, leaving a scarlett-red square staring back at you. A ‘dare’.
“Oh, our first dare.” There’s a bite to Wooyoung’s tone, proving obvious that he's choosing to ignore the past few rounds.
San leans forward for you and grabs a card, handing it off to you, "You can do this."
You don’t even look at it immediately and instead wait until you were back against Mingi before reading it aloud to the others.
“Did someone turn up the temperatures?" you start off steadily, "Suddenly, you’re feeling hot. Have the others player choose which piece of clothing to remove, hope this helps your problem…”
Keeping your eyes locked on the words. You trail off towards the end, not finding the courage to look up knowing they're all watching you. Undressing you in their heads.
“We get to choose?” Yunho happily accepts this feat as does everyone else. They make your already rapid heart accelerate, but what’s even worse is how the stupid throb below intensifies.
Hongjoong, ever so leisurely, grabs hold of the open flap from your pajama bottoms and wiggles the fabric around, "I say we get rid of these."
San perks up excitedly at the proclamations, “I second. Y/N, you don’t need those on anymore.”
This is so wrong. So, incredibly wrong.
While you're distracted by those two, you fail to notice Mingi traveling a hand down to the waist band of your pants, lifting it up to hardly reveal the shadow of your underwear line and bare skin, “Can you take ‘em off for us?”
“Let’s go, Y/N-ie. You can’t keep us waiting.” Wooyoung pouts while also tugging at the other pant leg.
The pleads of the group grow, while your determination to not do it shrinks. God, are they making this difficult for you.
After a few more begs, and a few more touches, you break and decidedly give in, “F-Fine, I'll get these off.”
Mingi breaths out, the hand that was on your waist band slipping below to touch your smooth, outer leg. He teases the others by showing them bits and pieces of your skin, not fully pulling your pants down till Yunho comes to the other side in helps of tugging them off of you.
Collectively, they all aid in discarding your bottoms and once they’re gone, you try to suppress the urge to cover yourself. There, in full display for everyone to see, are your tight, pale yellow panties that’re always your favorite to wear to bed.
But when you’re damn-near half naked in front of a group of boys, you’re mentally scolding yourself for not wearing something more attractive; like how one of your roommates owns a lacy, black thong that you’ve seen one too many times before.
Hongjoong brings a light graze to your now exposed legs, tracing around your skin, “You’re so cute when you listen to us.”
"Look, there's even little flowers." San pokes fun at you, even going as far as pinching your underwear in a teasing manner.
“Can- Can we move on?” You’re letting out small huffs while Mingi brings a hand down to rub at your thigh.
"Aww, alright, alright. Guys, let's ease up on her." Yunho reaches over your legs to retrieve the lonely die from the ground.
The rest of the boys oblige, them returning to their spots with slick smiles on their face. Sure, they'll play the game, but just know, they're in it for the long haul.
And it’s going to get way worse than this.
Yunho gives his fist a hardy shake before releasing it to the ground. The die quickly spins before falling still and revealing a ‘skip turn’ square for all the group to see. He lets out a ‘damn’, then moves onto Wooyoung, who’s taking the cube willingly.
“It’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it.” He darts his tongue out to the side while bringing two hands to cover up the die, jiggling all around till he drops it.
It lands on red, ‘dare’, and eagerly, Wooyoung snags one of the cards from the top of the scarlett pile, “Demonstrate your oral skills on a banana or peach,” he reads with an amusement to his tone, “Or if you have the real the real thing, that’s double points.”
Your eyes close as you take a deep inhale, dreading the next words to be spoken from his lips.
"Banana or peach...." He fake ponders, stroking his chin while staring up at the ceiling, "Hmm, I guess if I have to, I'll go with the peach."
"But we don't have any on us." San makes point in which Wooyoung feigns stupidity.
"Oh, you're right Sannie. Well, then what am I supposed to do?"
Almost defeated, your eyes widen after feeling a hand cupping your ankle. Wooyoung's giving you an expression, a mix between cunning and slyness, "Y/N-ie, what do you think?"
You gape back at him, "What I- I don't think anything."
"Well, don't we have the real thing?" He quips, inching closer, and you have to physically bite you inner lip to stop a whine from coming out.
Just the thought of what he was insinuating, it's just so.....dirty that you couldn't help the way you were feeling. And you aren't sure how much more you could take.
"I...I guess technically - we do-"
"Yah, Hongjoong, what's the rule about challenges and dares that involve other players?" Wooyoung calls back and the senior's fast to respond.
"If another player's required to participate due to a card but refuses, they must be the ones to take the drink instead." He reads off of the manual so swiftly you'd almost think he has it memorized.
"Would poor Y/N rather drink than let Wooyoung show off his skills?" Yunho mocks, causing, and for the first time this evening, a tiny, nearly inaudible whimper to buzz from you.
The noise leaves the rest of the group stunned.
Wooyoung regards you and just so leisurely does he fall in between your legs, now face to face with your clothed cunt, "You'd really rather drink? I promise, I won't be too long."
"Don't leave him hanging." San nudges and the rest of the group follow in the protests.
"But I..." you quiet down, "In front of everyone?"
Hongjoong leans back on his hands, intently watching, "We don't mind."
"Just, relax." Mingi guides you to rest again on his chest, providing slack for Wooyoung to draw your hips closer. You could feel his hot breath in huffs and it's driving you mad.
"Can I? Please?" He finishes off and it's then you give him a slight nod.
"Oh, my-” Yunho groans, and you almost copy him in the way Wooyoung brings a hand up to your underwear and pushes it to side.
"I'll be...quick." He mutters, eyes tracing all around your sex. His tongue darts out then before you could react, he's sliding the wet muscle up the length of your pussy.
You gasp at the feeling. Finally, a source of stimulation for you to enjoy.
He goes in again, lapping at you till he reaches your clit and sucks on it. Waves of pleasure ripple throughout your core with each slurp of your bud. Wooyoung shifts to wrap his hands around your thigh for support as he continues going down on you.
You throw a hand over your mouth to cover the scream that was just about to be let out. And next thing you know, your hips begin circling deep into his mouth while he guzzles away at your sweet pussy.
"Damn, you don't need to fucking eat her." San scoffs, which breaks Wooyoung from the haze he was in. Absentmindedly, he pulls away from your cunt with a satisfied grin, but not before going back in to give you a quick kiss on your lips. Your pussy lips.
The action makes you quiver and if he had carried on, you were sure you would've came all over his face.
"Holy fuck." Yunho breathes out shakily and it's taking all of his strength to not palm himself like a fucking pervert in front of everyone.
Wooyoung scoots back to his original spot while you're left panting on top of Mingi. What the actual hell just happened?
"Let's check the damage." Hongjoong eyes are glazed as he's watching your fucked out expression and hell, if it doesn't turn him on.
A hand gets brought around to your front and grips the peak of your underwear, scrunching it enough to transform it into a line then scoots off to the side. Your glistening, thick cunt is now open and on display for everyone to see.
"Fuck, I'm burning this into head." San whines and subtly, not-so subtly, grabs at the loose area around his pelvis and adjusts his pants.
Mingi's still holding onto your panties as Wooyoung gloats about how good you taste in front of the group, yet your mind's distracted by some sort of growth forming on your lower back.
"Come on, Wooyoung, give me the die so we can keep on playing." Hongjoong's nearly drunk off of his own lust, the way he wants to end up in the same situation as his junior.
If there's one thing he couldn't deny, it's that lately, you have been driving all of these boys crazy.
"Wait, I wanna hear what Y/N thinks of my skills," he turns to you with a self-boasting grin, "Was my game good?"
"Oh, Woo." Yunho's rolling his eyes at him. God, the last thing the group needs was Wooyoung's ego being inflated to the max.
"It was..." you take in a huff, quickly recalling the previous events, "it was good."
Wooyoung laughs lightly before going in for a lip bite, "You flatter me. But, hey, if you ever wanted a round 2, I'll get you alone and show you all of my-"
"Dare." Hongjoong interrupts, shutting the chatty boy up. You hadn't even realized he had rolled with you being too occupied in Wooyoung's proclamations.
"Is he gonna pussy out again?" Mingi mutters, mainly to you, causing you to dryly chuckle. Your head is still foggy from the timely pulses below to illicit any stronger of a reaction.
Reaching forward, Hongjoong grabs at a new card, this time actually reading it aloud, “Don’t be shy, choose a player of your choice to give a quick peck too.”
Your eyes lazily scan around the scene as everyone curiously stares at Hongjoong, whom stared back with an ever-lasting gaze. The silence is loud, though his thoughts were flashing across his face, exposing everything he was thinking. And it was evident that what he needs, is the person right in front of him.
“Y/N, come here.” He calls you over with a nod and you protests. Physically, you’re feeling weak, but mentally, goodness are you are completely, utterly fucked.
“I-” Whining, you let your breaths do the talking to try and captivate your fatigueness. How come you were always the brut of the cards? Can’t they give you a break?
The dark look your senior gives is enough to put your whimpering to an end, “Hey, let’s go.”
Mingi pushes you forward as a head start and you catch yourself with your hands, taking in the dark carpet underneath.
“You wanna crawl over to me? Hell, I’ll take that too.” Hongjoong laughs maniacally and you’re left wondering what happened to the boy that had reassured you comfort just hours before. Had he always been this way?
Nonetheless, you still do it. You make your way over to Hongjoong all the while crawling on all 4’s. The guys couldn’t get enough of this. Your submissive state, yet your will to keep going, it was fucking ammo for them. Just fueling their running desires the longer this game continued.
You stop on your knees in front of him, then cautiously you work your way up until you were eye to eye with Hongjoong. He’s watching all over your face, part of him searching for a sign that said you wanted to stop. He knew he would, at the drop of a hat if he saw you were feeling uncomfortable, he would whisk you out of here himself.
But Hongjoong also knows, just like how you know. That secretly, you were into this shit. Little, book-reader Y/N loved being publicly humiliated and shamed for the sole purpose of getting her horny.
Which is why he doesn’t feel bad when he dips down to force your lips on his, the supposed quick peck being thrown out of the window. He’s enveloping himself into you and taking your mouth like he’d been starving for it.
He’s going at you with a level of neediness even he would’ve never expected from himself. Oh, how your lips essentially get swallowed up by his with every kiss, he’d hadn’t pictured he could get this turned on from kissing someone, his pants are so damn tight. And shit, the urge to fucking push you to the ground and make you grind on his thigh is literally clawing at him. He really is trying so damn hard to control himself.
Little noises begin to leave your lips as it fills the soundless room, and by the second you can sense Hongjoong becoming more frazzled, more sporadic in the way he’s dominating you, pushing himself further onto you.
“Are you about to take her right here?” Yunho coughs out, trying to bring attention the fact that there’s 4 other people in the room who have been witnessing this steamy make out.
Hongjoong comes up briefly from you to respond, “Fuck off,” then he’s back onto your mouth, kissing you with so much passion that you don’t even mind about the watchers. Because you knew that despite their complaints and protests, they were enjoying this too, you just knew they were.
“I’m calling it, Y/N get your cute ass back over here,” San grabs hold of your underwear then wastes no time in yanking you back, separating you and Hongjoong mid-kiss. You wobble backwards into your original spot, your lips so wet and pink, it looks like you just got done sucking on a lollipop; as Hongjoong reels himself in from it all. If you two hadn’t been stopped, there’s no tell in what he would’ve done to you.
“You two would’ve down right fucked each other in the middle of the circle,” Wooyoung muses, but not because he was repulsed by this fact, but rather for how sexy it was watching you unravel at the hands of his friend.
San starts to roll next, “I better get lucky like you shits did.” He shakes and releases the die when it lands on a ‘black’ square, the first of all tonight, “Oh, shit.”
“This is gonna be interesting.” Yunho mutters as Mingi’s fingers, after getting yourself restated back in between his legs, dance up the naked skin of your legs, absentmindedly of course, and works his way to the inner parts of your thigh, just gently rubbing at your flesh.
That action causes your eyes to briefly flutter but you try your best to focus on San, who’s reaching in for a ‘challenge’ card. He pulls at the untouched deck then goes to speak aloud.
“Choose an opponent and a player out of the group,” it’s apparent’s he’s reading ahead in his mind, judging by the way the corners of his mouth turn upright, “With a minute on the clock, let’s see who can leave the darkest mark, a hickey, on the player’s neck. Winner get’s card.”
Your heart’s pounding. Oh, god.
“Y/N, can you be my player?” Despite him asking, whining even, a mock of curiosity washing over his features, it was clear that his question is more of a demand.
Mingi laughs heartily while pushing his head against the side of yours, “Yeah, you gonna be his little play thing?”
“Woah, Mingi,” San throws his hands up exasperatedly, “How about you be my opponent, cause I already know I'll destroy your ass.”
The competition that’s ensuing riles up the rest of the group as Mingi swiftly agrees. Next thing you know, you’re being shoved into the middle of the circle, firstly on your knees then sitting crisscrossed as the two boys work their way over you.
With San on your left and Mingi on your right, your having to mentally calm yourself down from all the exposure you’ve endured so far. And how this round might actually be the death of you.
The rest of the group moves around till they sit front row in front of you, ready to watch the throw-down. You take in the boys in front of you.
Yunho, as evidence on his face, feels pleasure in this scenario and he’s so intrigued in how this will go. Wooyoung’s yanking out his phone from his pocket; and right as Hongjoong’s sits across from you, you can see through heavy lids him dropping his gaze down to your uncovered body.
He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s shamelessly watching you, and maybe that’s the reason for why you genuinely start to feel yourself drip liquid.
“I’m putting a minute on the clock,” Wooyoung officiates, scrolling on the phone that’s currently placed on the floor.
Both men beside you start to get into positions, hunching over to become more level with your throat.
“You have such a pretty neck,” San brings a hand to lightly stroke the large area, “Can’t wait to give you my mark.”
“San, you can’t say that.” You mew back, completely in a daze.
“Why not? It’s true.” He’s still running his fingertips along your skin and he could easily swear every touch made you whimper. God, could he listen to you all day.
“Gonna fuck up your neck, Y/N, just you wait.” It’s Mingi’s time to talk you up, him nearly mouthing that sentence onto your open skin, “Gonna leave a hickey so big people’ll think you’re getting it good.”
You briefly go to turn to him, but with Wooyoung announcing the commencement of the challenge, you’re forced back into the middle as they both sit impatiently.
“Start in 3…2….and….1!”
They pounce. Immediately, they stick on your neck like a vacuum, just taking in as much of the area as possible. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as you feel their sucking turn into straight buzzes shooting down to core.
It’s indescribable the feeling your experience. Both boys on you like their life is on the line, but it’s so interesting how you notably recognize the difference in how they’re forming the hickey.
San’s lips are more precise, smaller, tiny sucks with occasional licks. Mingi on the other hand, wide, open kisses are his forte. His singular mouth is covering up a vast area that you already knew it would be hard to cover this up.
“Dude, they are so into this.” Yunho comments while Hongjoong tries his best to not actually cream his pants at your expression.
“Look at her face, she looks like she’s gonna cum on herself at any second.” He nottes which causes a series of moans, one of them yours, to fire throughout the crowd.
“20 seconds,” Wooyoung warns, eyes trained onto the scene in front of him.
They go in harder. They’re putting more pressure onto your neck, sucking so hard now that you can’t help the mini whines that escape you. You actually think you’re about to pass out.
The build up of stimulation over the course of this night has left you with an everlasting throb that’s threatening to explode at any time. The more they suck, the heavier your breaths get, and you’re struggling to contain your new expressions.
It’s all starting to become so much, the sensation boys are causing trickles down to your cunt in waves, so intense and pleasurable that even your body starts to stutter.
Wooyoung’s begins to countdown, “10….9…”
There’s cheering in the audience, egging the participants on while you’re still fighting your inner self to not spill out. Mingi and San aren’t slowing, and are holding their pace through and through.
“3…2…annnnd…stop.”
The moment they detach themselves from you, you were already game over, with your orgasm taking over for everyone to see. You’re moaning as it happens, eyes shut and hips bucking forward on nothing.
“No fucking shot.” Wooyoung’s eyebrows are raised as his mouth hangs low.
You’re too consumed in your shakes to even hear the other remarks spewing from everyone else. Oh, you really tried to keep yourself under control. The orgasm isn’t as strong as it could’ve been, like if there had been genuine stimulation on your clit, but god did it feel good to finally let loose.
“You came untouched,” Hongjoong quips, part of him surprised the other so horny it’s making it hard for him to think, “God, Y/N, give us a warning next time, yeah?”
Yunho mewls with closed eyelids, “Guys, if I said I almost nutted from that, would that be weird?”
“Honestly, I think I leaked a little bit,” Shamelessly, Wooyoung lightly shrugs his shoulders while admittingly so, the lower half of his body squirming ever so gently.
“You really are a dirty girl.” San murmurs and trails your body up and down.
“Getting off on just a couple of hickeys? What the hell?” Mingi laughs bitterly, still reeling in from seeing you literally cum on yourself.
“We have to…we need to see the results, right?” Your face is beat. You think you’ve passed the road of embarrassment 2 stops ago, and now you’re heading straight for a ditch. A ditch full of nothing but straight satisfaction and contentment.
“Oh, right,” Hongjoong leans in closer to inspect both areas, “Mm, looks like San’s is darker.”
As San celebrates his declared victory, Mingi contorts into displeasure, his nose scrunching, “What?”
He wastes no time in grabbing hold of your chin and pulling it to their other side. He looks over this space, then push your head left to review his own.
“Yours looks like someone tried to draw a fucking lake with a dried up red marker.” Yunho criticizes which leaves the boy offended.
Instantly, Mingi’s ready to protest, “I want a rematch.”
Hongjoong waves a hand to dismiss that requests, “No, no, we’re not gonna redo the whole thing just cau-” But Mingi’s back onto your neck, this time going in on the middle of your throat, sucking with a much greater force that it basically makes you weak.
“Woah! Woah! Woah!”
Arms fly towards you as the rest of the boys work to separate the two of you, Mingi, almost comedically, looking genuinely confused as to why he's being split from you.
Wooyoung grabs the unoccupied die and shoves it into the palm of Mingi, “Roll this and go back to your spot.”
You watch Mingi be offended, him making a distasteful look, “Who do you think you are?” He grumbles yet does exactly that, taking you with him while he reverts back to your original places.
With you being dragged against the carpet, the after effects of your orgasm leaves you quaking at even the slightest touch, the remnants of the past actions driving your pulsing cunt.
Before you know it, you’re being repositioned in between Mingi’s legs as he begrudgingly rolls the die, throwing it down with such an aggression. It rolls and rolls till eventually it lands on a ‘skip turn’, and with soft conversations flowing around he hands you the die.
Now, you’re feeling completely, and utterly fucked out. So much so that you put zero effort into shaking the cube then tossing it to the ground, never having had such a vitalizing night before.
It rotates on its axis before slowing down to a red square. You aren’t sure how much more you can handle, trying to suppress a groan. Immediately, you reach forward for the ‘dare’ card, then begin to read it aloud.
“Everyone deserves a sweet treat, the person to your right especially,” Warily, you peer over towards Yunho, who’s ever more intrigued in the card, “Have them find something tasty and lick it off of any part you. Player’s choice.”
“My choice?” His throat nearly dries at the thought. He could choose anywhere. Any place on your body.
“What’re you gonna lick off of her?” San asks, his own curious heart gradually racing by the second. Everyone’s thinking the same thing, the direction this is heading.
Hongjoong lolls his head to his side, “Yah, how about those donuts?”
Oh, right, the ones from earlier. You had eaten yours clean before this, but as you glance back to Yunho, you see him pulling out the package, unopened.
"Feels like I'm craving some right about now." He mutters and regards the donuts before doing a glance over to you. He's analyzing every inch of you, determining what he wants.
You feel his fiery stare but when a small smile appears on his face, that's when you ask, "What're you thinking?"
He lowers his head, almost mockingly, and without missing a beat, he sighs, "Pull down that tank top for us, okay?"
You were too fatigued to even argue, sluggishly raising your arms to yank the thin fabric down only slightly. It's then Mingi who grabs roughly at the rest of your tank and slides the material down till it hits your midline.
Your tits are out; fat, puffy nippy erected just the way Yunho likes them, and everyone is instantly drawn to your breasts.
"They're even better than what I was imagining," someone mumbles, you aren't sure who because what you're focusing on, is the way Yunho looks about ready to jump you.
"Face more towards me."
You follow his instruction, well, more like you allow yourself to be turned by Mingi towards Yunho, but either way, Yunho's satisfied. He makes his short distance to you, stopping only when he's mere centimeters in front, sort of mimicking Wooyoung's earlier position.
"Then....I'll get these opened," Even though he's talking mainly to himself, you still follow every one of his movements, from him ripping wide the package to him taking out a donut and sprinkling the powdered sugar onto your skin.
He covers both breasts in the sweetness, dusting a generous amount all around till you're a powdery white, ready to get licked raw.
"Does it have to be just licking?" Yunho ponders, and for the record, it wasn't a you question, he was asking his friends.
"Nah, I think whatever is necessary should be good." San answers which leaves Yunho in gratification. He knows exactly what he wants, and it's to absolutely devour you.
So, that's what he does.
Quickly, he throws down the remaining donuts before latching onto your tits, taking in your flesh whole and it seems at first, he's disregarding the whole point of this dare.
Instead of focusing on the powdered sugar, he's going straight for your nipple, lapping and licking at the bud then switching over to the next.
He's cupping your breasts with his hands, and as he's suctioning onto you, his hands work mindlessly to fondle your skin, juggling the two sacks.
It's a feeling you've never felt before. You want to wince out in pain but could you even consider this as such? The way he's going in on you, the swift jolts of pain, if you could even call it that, soon transfer into that feel-good sensation you're all too accustomed with.
You're breathing falls in synch with his action, and rely on Mingi's chest as support for when you rest back on him, one of your hands throwing itself up into his hair to help with your wriggling.
With each movement from his tongue it's like another added layer for your pleasure to hold on to, your thighs squeezing around Yunho to alleviate the build up in your core, and by goodness, did you love it.
Yunho finally ends off the dare with what it should have been, him licking up the remaining sweetness on your tits with an overly loud slurp. And then he pops himself off of you with large grin, a coat of wetness evident around his mouth, "I am so doing that again."
"Can I be next?" Mingi murmurs, going in to play with your sticky tits, while you drop your arm down. He watches the way they'd ripple from his force before dropping down with a shake.
"You are so sexy, my god." Hongjoong rubs a palm over his face, eyeing your upper body. He must be a good man, truly. To be able to resist taking you right here, right now, his will power is incredible.
"Let's do one more, then call it for the night. Poor Y/N looks like she's about to pass out." San suggests, with him every other second glancing down at your chest, and you merely throw a hand up in agreement.
This hangout had went so left-field from what you were originally thinking, but you would be a liar if you said this didn't awaken something in you. Something you genuinely liked.
Yunho goes back to his spot right next to you, and Mingi decides to keep you two right where you guys are. Wooyoung takes the die from off of the ground, and shakes it with some much power, "Last one, fast one."
He throws the cube down and you all watch it spin and spin and spin until it stops on a pitch, ‘black’ square.
"Oh, hell." Yunho laughs out and you even grumble out a 'oh no'. Because, of course it has to end like this.
Wooyoung draws the last card from the all-black deck and straight way he begins to chuckle, though the way his eyes crinkled speaks to something much different, "The end is drawing near, everyone is feeling tired and it's clear it's time to wrap up for the day. To finish off the game, choose a player of your choice and have everyone finish on them."
After reading this aloud, the quiet that ensues is massive.
It's the calm before the storm.
Silence before an explosion.
Then…..
“Fuck, where should we put her?”
“Let’s have Y/N-ie on the ground.”
“My cock is throbbing so fucking hard right now.”
“This might be my biggest load yet.”
You’re being forced down into the middle, tits up, and all you see are more and more bodies popping into frame. They tower over you and just the sight is enough to get you aroused all over again. They’re undoing their pants, dropping them past their knees and leaving them all in their underwear.
“Take off my underwear,” Wooyoung, who’s closest to you, orders and you do. With shaky hands, you roll over to the side and bring down the boxers till it aligned with his pants and in return, his thick, naked, cock springs out, your mouth salivating.
“Do me next.” Hongjoong requests, and so you roll over to the other side and assist him. After a few more of the requests, soon everyone is bare and ready to complete this last task, and you go back to laying down.
Chest out and all, your eyes scan around to the scene of all the boys jerking away at their foreskin, some of them groaning as they continue watching you and the compromising position you’re in.
“Stroke me a little bit, can you do that for me?” Yunho asks, scooting closer to you and you oblige. You replace his hand for your own, wrapping around the hard length and begin to tug up and down.
As you’re occupied in doing this, San comes up and crouches down next to you, “Let me put it in your mouth really quick.”
Nodding, you widen your lips and allow him to dart his tip in and out of your hole all the while continuously rubbing Yunho.
“I wanna know what your mouth feels like too.” Mingi gruffs and so removing yourself from San, you place your attention on his girthy cock, taking as much of it as you could. Then someone else asks for a handjob, and without peeking you grip them nearby, sliding your palm against their shaft.
You make your way around, stimulating the group as best as you could. One after another, you’d find your mouth would be used to pleasure someone, while both of your hands would be busy jacking off a couple of others.
The ones that would remain to have themselves masturbate would find ways to combat their lust, like slapping their head against your sappy tits or rubbing their dicks on your stomach, leaving patches of pre-cum behind before you’d switch to aid them.
At some point, a body begins to shudder.
“F-Fuck, I think- I’m clo..close…” Hongjoong sputters, detaching himself from your mouth and going to jerk off and before he knows it, he starts to shoot out spurts of hot, viscous cum directly onto your face.
“I-I..” Yunho doesn’t even finish his sentence by the time his orgasm hits, his liquid aimed for around your mouth.
Person after person, ripples of orgasms hit the rest of the boys as they all spaz then cum sporadically everywhere, most of them not having a specific place but just desperately needed to release themselves, till eventually, they’re all finishing together.
“Oh, god.” Wooyoung groans as you work faster at his cock and basically milk him dry, any remaining cum dripping onto your breasts.
With a mix of grunts and whines, the flowing liquid begins to slow, and soon, everyone’s cocks are emptied out all over you. From face to torso, you are now, completely and utterly covered.
As heavy pants fill the room, some of guys dropping to the floor instantly while others make their way towards the bed, you continue resting on the floor and bask in the way you could literally feel left over cum dribble from chin an onto your neck.
You feel nasty. You feel dirty. Part of you is borderline disgusted with how even then, after all that you’ve endured, you still want to rut yourself against a pillow or something, fuck yourself on your own fingers, so needy to get off like how the guys did.
But that can come for another day. For now, the tiredness is catching up, heavy eyelids consuming you and just like that you shut your eyes and fall asleep, concluding the end to your single, dirty night.
- Bonus -
“Fuck, look at her legs,” San whimpers, pinching at his phone to zoom in on the photo, “Just wanna lick ‘em up.”
“Dude, are you still looking at photos of Y/N?” Wooyoung quips as he finishes tidying up bits of his room. Inviting friends over was not apart of his agenda this Saturday night, but after some convincing (and the promise of alcohol) he eventually agreed, even if there were other thing’s he’d rather do.
“How can I not?” He exits out of the photo of you at the beach then quickly scrolls through your Instagram, stopping on a dump from last Halloween of your innocently cute, yet busty angel costume, “Can I be honest about something?”
“Mm?” Wooyoung doesn’t face him when asking, again straightening up things in his room. Mingi and Yunho should be coming back at any minute with the second bottle, and Hongjoong said he’d be quick the snacks.
“I came to one of Y/N’s photos before,” San recalls the memory of him whacking away at his dick with one hand, the other propping his phone which showed a picture of you smiling side with a bouquet of tulips in your grasp. God, he loved that photo so much, “The one with the flowers.”
Wooyoung halts in his track and cranes his neck back to the boy sprawled out on his bed, “You came to a photo of her? God, have you no self-control?” At least whenever Wooyoung masturbates, it’s to videos he finds on the web that resemble you, not actual photos.
A light blush sprinkles across San’s cheeks, him closing out of the app and then sitting up on the mattress, “It wasn’t intentional…it just sort of happened.”
Wooyoung scoffs, “You’re a pervert. A pervert that’s going to corrupt my sweet, precious Y/N if you ever get your hands on her.”
“Oh for- you’ll be the one to corrupt her out of anyone,” San bites back right as the door swings open, revealing an excited Mingi and an intrigued Yunho.
“Fuck are you two arguing for?” Mingi belts, the sole bottle of alcohol tucked underneath his elbows. The two boys make their way over to the open chairs placed out for them, Yunho flopping down instantly while Mingi pulls out the bottle and sets it next to him on the ground.
“Dumb shit Wooyoung’s saying.” San offers as an answer and Wooyoung simply shrugs, part of him feeling the need to be deceitful.
“Joong not back yet?” Yunho mutters, stretching his hands above his head.
Wooyoung shakes his head, “Nah, he’s still out, taking forever tho.”
He hums in response when suddenly a memory flicks into his head and he immediately groans, “Aw, guys, did you see Y/N’s outfit today?” Yunho reminisces on earlier today where you wore a more fitting dress to classes, hugging just the right spots for everyone to see.
“And when she fucking dropped her notebook and bent over in front of us,” Mingi adds, picturing how round and full your ass looked in the dress, “Would’ve taken her right there.”
“Hell yeah.” The two fist bump as Mingi shifts over a bit, his foot accidentally kicking the liquor and sending it flying underneath the bed. Just as San mumbles out a ‘stupid’, Wooyoung clears his throat.
“Hey, guess what San did to a photo of Y/N-”
The words couldn’t even come out before San body slams Wooyoung straight to the ground, covering his mouth and preventing any form of slip up from happening, “Absolutely not.”
The junior cackles out loud and tries to pry the hand away from his face. A fight ensues, with San on top of Wooyoung, and Wooyoung defending himself. The other two simply watch in amusement at what’s happening in front of them.
The boys were so caught up in the scuffle, that to no one’s knowledge, Hongjoong barges into the room, and apparently, he’s brought a visitor with him.
"You gonna talk about me again?" Choi San threatens the junior whom he's currently hurting, applying pressure to the nape of his neck.
"Aish, aish!" Jung Wooyoung winces at the pain though, a crooked smile is present on his face, "What're you, a fucking barbarian? Get off."
"What the fuck are you two doing?" Hongjoong rushes over to deescalate the situation. He shoves Choi San into a corner and rolls Jung Wooyoung the other way, "I wasn't even gone for that long and already you guys try to kill each other."
At that statement, another uproar ensues. All of the boys shouting at him, yelling claims of "You took fucking forever!" "The hell?!" And other variations.
You raise your shoulders and tuck yourself inwards at the commotion yet, part of you seemingly enjoying the racket. A soft giggle flows out of you, which in turn makes your presence known.
“Y/N?” Jung Wooyoung questions first.
and you know the rest….
check out pt.2!
#holy shit what masterpiece did i just read#i loved this so much everyone needs to read this i’m so serious#hot nsfw 💋#ateez 🍦
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soppy w/ mingi
“mwah,” mingi announces loudly as he presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek. then a second, and a third, both with the over the top sound effect. you can’t help the way it leaves you giggling. mingi can’t help the way the sound only makes him tug you closer to him.
“what, you think i’m funny?” he teases, voice deep in your ear. his breath tickles against your neck leaving you wriggling in his grasp. fucking adorable, he thinks to yourself as he blows out a long stream of air against the sensitive skin. it only makes you giggle and squirm more, and mingi feels like his heart is beating so fast in his chest that it might burst free at any second. he can almost feel it clawing at the walls of his chest, desperately trying to get closer to you; you’re who it really belongs to after all.
he knew it from the day he saw you in that cafe. you looked so soft in that fuzzy white jumper that you hadn’t even realised you’d dropped your coffee on. the stain on the pretty fabric only made you cuter, and he just couldn’t hold himself back from stumbling his way towards you with his textbook dopey smile. looking back on it, it was kind of weird the way he just sat down across from you and told you his name. it’s even weirder that you somehow found him charming enough to go on a date with. he really should give you a talk about stranger danger…
“mingi, you’re tickling me,” you squeal between your bouts of giggles. he just blows another jet of air onto you in response. your laughter lights up the room like a bajillion fairy lights; it’s magical, and mingi would do anything to hear it forever, “get off me you clingy giant!”
he lets you wriggle free, watching as you stumble out of his grasp and turn to him with a bright smile. so pretty, so sweet, and you’re all his. the way you put your hands up into tiny little fists is adorable. when you fake swing at him, more pretty sounds of glee falling from your lips, he can’t hide his own grin. the fact that you can’t move fast enough to escape him as he catches your furled up fists in his own has him melting. fuck, he’s such a lucky guy.
“i asked you a question, baby,” he coos, tugging you closer to his chest. you gladly let yourself be pulled into him, bumping your forehead against his broad chest once it’s close enough to do so. the fists that hold yours let go, travelling to your face instead. he holds your cheeks like your face is the most precious thing in the world—to mingi it might as well be—and uses then to tilt your gaze up to meet his own, “do you think my love for you is funny?”
his tone is laced with teasing undertones, barely hidden by the overwhelming amount of love that spills from his mouth when he speaks to you. it bathes you in warmth, feeling like a warm cup of cocoa on a cold winter’s day. rich and heavenly, enveloping you in a soft blanket of comfort. you find yourself struggling to speak, a lump of pure adoration getting caught in your throat. you swallow it down before reaching up to press a peck to his lips.
“you’re always funny, mingi,” you coo at him. it feels so natural when your arms wrap around his waist to pull him impossibly close, your chin finding purchase against his chest. “it’s one of the many things i love about you.”
he scoffs, letting out a fake gag.
“that’s so soppy and gross,” he chuckles, as he returns the peck you gave him seconds prior. “i love you too.”
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