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jk97 · 3 months

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Unprofessional Attraction | ONE

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 13K ♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot ♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | ?

Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.

That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”

“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.

Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.

A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.

“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”

He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.

“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.

“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”

“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.

“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.

“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”

You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”

“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”

“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”

When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.

From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.

He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.

[Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]

When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.

You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.

“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.

He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.

“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.

“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”

Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.

Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”

Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.

“You ready?”

“Absolutely,” you puff out.

“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.

“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.

Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.

“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.

“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.

Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.

“I was just asking, Jesus.”

Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”

“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.

“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”

“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”

Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”

San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.

It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.

You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.

“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.

Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.

His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”

“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”

Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.

“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.

With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.

“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”

“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”

Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.

“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”

You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.

“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”

He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”

“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.

After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”

“Of course!”

When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.

On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.

“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.

“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”

“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.

“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”

The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–

“_____?”

You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.

“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”

“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”

“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.

Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.

“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”

“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”

Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”

You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”

“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.

“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”

Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”

Not tonight.

You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.

“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”

While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.

When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.

“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.

“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”

That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.

“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”

“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.

“We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”

Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.

But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”

That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”

To which he never declines, naturally.

Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.

“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”

A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”

He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.

“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”

He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in pink as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.

“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.

“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.

You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.

“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.

“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.

“You don’t even know the price of it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”

“Yunho…”

“Don’t even give me that, ____.”

The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.

When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”

“Cheers.”

Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.

As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.

“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.

“I can get you an Uber if—”

“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”

That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.

Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.

Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.

“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.

While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.

“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.

He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”

“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”

Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he’s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.

Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.

Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—

He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.

Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.

“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”

Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.

“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.

He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”

“You’re fine, no worries.”

It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.

“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”

You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”

There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.

“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”

Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.

“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”

Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…

After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.

But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.

“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”

When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.

“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.

“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”

“Neither am I.”

At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.

“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.

“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.

“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”

Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”

In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.

“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”

Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.

You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”

Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.

“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.

You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.

“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”

Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.

It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.

It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.

It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.

“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.

“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.

The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.

“Take yours off too?”

Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.

“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.

Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.

His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.

“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.

“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.

“You know what I mean.”

Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”

Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.

“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.

He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.

“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”

Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.

He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.

“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”

Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.

The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.

“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”

When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.

“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.

“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”

“So fucking good.”

Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.

He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”

“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”

You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.

“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”

You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.

Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.

Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.

He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.

Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?

Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?

Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?

All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.

He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.

He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.

[Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]

Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.

Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.

[Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]

To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.

[Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]

He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.

[Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]

Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.

Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.

At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.

You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.

On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.

“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.

To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.

“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.

“Don’t.”

“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”

You employ a small pout to boot.

“And you think I believe that?”

“I think you should believe it.”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!

“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.

You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.

Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.

“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”

He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.

“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”

You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”

“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”

Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?

“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”

“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.

“A mistake?”

“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”

You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”

“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.

“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”

When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.

Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.

“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”

“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.

“Boo, why can I never know anything–”

“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”

“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.

Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.

A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.

“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”

“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”

“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”

“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”

Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”

You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.

“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.

You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.

“That was quick,” you giggle.

“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.

Fuck.

“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”

“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.

You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”

“Just give me five minutes, please.”

You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.

“Spit it out already, Yunho.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.

Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”

“Thought it was a mistake–”

“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”

“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”

There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.

“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”

You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:

“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”

“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”

“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”

“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”

You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.

♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr

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tyunphoria · 11 months

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🌪️ateez’s reaction to finding out your bias is their group member—ot8

- - - - -

INCLUDES: reader’s gender not specified, ot8 x reader, swearing, crack

- - - - -

↓ kim hongjoong ↓ park seonghwa

↓ jeong yunho ↓ kang yeosang

↓ choi san ↓ song mingi

↓ jung wooyoung ↓ choi jongho

- - - - -

#reader insert #ateez x you #ateez san #ateez wooyoung #ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #ateez jongho #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateezsan #ateez imagines #ateez hongjoong #ateez smau #ateez fluff

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baek-at-it-again95 · 5 months

Text

We Know

Pairings: park seonghwa x fem reader x choi san

genres/content: action, agent au, mafia au? rivalry, leader bang chan, angry seonghwa, y/n is san's weakness lol

Warnings: profanity, violence, weapons, suggestive content!! please take care of yourselves <3

A/N: I am nervous about this one y'all 😳 I've never written something like this before, but it ended up being so fun! This is for my friends, @milfks and L, who had these wonderful ideas! Love you two lots <3

Synopsis: Tonight's mission is in your hands, and you're eager to prove that you're capable of handling it on your own. Unfortunately, your plans are interrupted a bit sooner than you expected.

***

"I've got eyes on him," you mumble, pretending to fix your diamond earring as you adjust your earpiece. Surveying from the platform of the mansion's grand staircase, your eyes follow a man in a black suit as he turns the corner and disappears down a far hallway.

Chan's sigh rings in your earpiece. "Be careful."

"I can handle myself. Trust me."

"I trust you, Y/N. You know that. It's everyone else that I don't trust. It's your first time unaccompanied," Chan says.

"Like I said, I can handle it. Besides, the boys are always out by themselves and they're just fine." If you could see Chan right now, you know he'd be pinching the bridge of his nose out of stress, holding back from giving you a lecture on why your situation is different from theirs. You know his concern is out of love, and he would blame himself if anything were ever to happen to you. But this is your chance to prove yourself. Tonight, you'll be participating in an auction to get your hands on the Cromer, a powerful artifact that can control time. It's been rumored that ATEEZ has their sights set on it as well, so Chan had you do as much research on them as possible. Unfortunately for you, they're quite good at covering their tracks and keeping their identities under wraps. You know only a few of their names and faces, so you'll need to be extra careful about your approach to this.

The auction will begin in about an hour, and you'd rather not hear a lecture from Chan. "I'm going in," you whisper. Your black dress flatters your figure perfectly, and you're excited to show it off tonight. With a deep breath, you make your way down the staircase, your heels silent on the expensive red carpet.

Clusters of people stand together around the large space, sipping champagne and chatting amongst themselves. Many wives have separated into groups away from their husbands, who go on and on about their latest business ventures and investments. Understandable—how boring. You greet some people as you go, your charming smile in effect as their eyes land on you. One woman compliments your dress as you pass by, and you enthusiastically return her compliment, telling her that her own dress brings out her eyes. She blushes and tells you it's custom made, which basically means "my dress is worth twice as much as the average person's monthly paycheck."

You continue to weave through the crowds and admittedly get a bit distracted, still thinking about the woman's compliment. As you turn into the hallway you witnessed your target disappear into, you bump straight into an oncoming person. A strong arm wraps around your waist before you can lose balance on your high heels.

"Woah there, doll. Straying too far, are we?" A tall man with dark hair looks down at you, his eyebrows raised.

Park Seonghwa. Just the man you were looking for.

"My apologies sir," you say quietly, feigning innocence and avoiding his eyes. His arm leaves your waist after steadying you. "I was wandering in hopes of finding a vacant room to lie down...I'm afraid I've had a bit too many drinks too early in the night." You stumble for dramatic effect, hoping he'll eat up your lies. "I have to sober up before the auction," you say, shaking your head. "Daddy will throw a fit if I spend all his money tonight."

The man looks amused. "Yeah? Better be careful, princess."

"I can handle myself," you say for the second time tonight, stepping closer to trace the pads of your manicured fingers over the fabric on his chest. He tilts your chin up gently, and you meet his intense gaze. He's breathtaking. Suddenly, you have an idea that seems much more fun than your previous plans.

Sorry Chan, you think as you press yourself against Seonghwa.

***

You didn't find anything of importance on Seonghwa's person, but you did manage to slip a tracking device into his suit pocket. Chan should be able to access his location any minute now.

You enter the auction room fifteen minutes before the event is scheduled to start, scanning the tables for your seat. It's dimly lit, a majority of the lighting coming from a screen behind the stage. You don't see Seonghwa seated anywhere yet.

"And what are the starting bids on you, lovely?" a low voice asks, breath tickling your ear. You turn to look at the owner of the voice, his strong facial features almost as striking as his neatly-styled red hair. He's practically undressing you with his eyes, and you can't say you hate it.

"Whatever you've got to offer, pretty boy," you reply sweetly. He smirks, pleased with himself as one of his hands finds your waist.

"My friend says you're not as innocent as you look."

"Pardon?" you ask. The man turns you around, your back against his broad chest as his free hand reaches up to your ear. Before you know it, your earpiece is on the ground in front of you, crushed beneath a polished designer shoe. Looking up, you see that the shoe belongs to none other than Park Seonghwa. Of course they're working together.

You freeze as something cold presses to the exposed small of your back.

Fuck.

"One wrong move and you're done for, princess," the man with red hair says calmly, lowering himself back down to your ear. "Try to cause a scene and innocent people will pay the price."

You take a deep breath before nodding your head in submission. You slowly turn back around and watch as he returns his gun to his shoulder holster, his expensive blazer completely concealing it. No one around you sees the ordeal, too distracted and eager to spend their money. The man then puts his arm around your shoulders, leading you out of the auction room. Seonghwa follows close behind, making sure you aren't able to slip away. You have no idea if he is armed at this point in time.

You're led into a large meeting room at the very end of the upstairs corridor, the bright moonlight seeping through the open balcony doors and illuminating the glossy wooden table at the center of the room. You catch a glimpse of the pretty garden below the balcony before the man guiding you throws you to the floor. You can feel the bruises forming on your knees instantly.

You don't dare fight back yet—your training in hand-to-hand combat doesn't do shit when your opponents are armed with guns, of course. You would attempt it if he were alone, but with Seonghwa present and potentially armed, you'd rather feel the situation out.

God, Chan will never let you out onto the field again. He's probably losing his mind now that you've lost contact with each other. Not to mention the fact that you were busted before you even had a chance to get what you came here for. The auction is going to start any minute, and now you're certain there are other ATEEZ members in the auction room that are ready to claim the Cromer instead of you.

You're angry with yourself for not being more prepared with your own weapon, but your favorite handgun unfortunately didn't fit under your dress of choice. You sigh to yourself. At least you look good in it.

"Give it up, sweetheart. We know what's going on here," the man with red hair says. Seonghwa locks the door behind him before speaking.

"I saw your wolf tattoo, and I've seen only one other just like it. You're working with Bang Chan," he states, is emotions unreadable.

No. You had forgotten to conceal your waist tattoo since your dress fully covers it. You hadn't expected to completely remove your dress tonight. Rookie mistake. You should expect everything.

"All this over a tattoo?" You eye him, downplaying the situation.

"How brave of you to interfere with our operation by yourself," the other man comments, ignoring your previous sentence. "No back up here to save you, huh?"

"Oh, you don't really believe she's here alone, do you, San?" Seonghwa asks. Choi San. You recognize that name. Seonghwa comes over to you, a completely different aura surrounding him now. He's intimidating, gripping your chin with much more force than he had earlier. "Be a good girl and tell us where your friends are, yeah? Don't make things difficult." A chill runs down your spine at his threat.

"I'm not here with anyone," you state. It's the truth. Even though Chan had insisted he wait in his car nearby, you convinced him to stay and monitor operations from your base. If you don't make contact within the next hour or two, he'll know something is wrong and follow Seonghwa's location.

"Wrong answer, princess." He grips your hair harshly and you wince. "I have a hard time believing that they would put you in a situation like this without back up. Where are they?"

It's sweet of him to underestimate you, honestly. You got yourself into this situation, and you're sure as hell going to get yourself out. You're already halfway done formulating your escape plan. "I said they're not here," you answer again. He lets go of your hair with a hiss.

"It would pain me to ruin such a pretty face...I think we'll let the boss deal with you."

The boss? Chan told you that no one knows the leader of ATEEZ—it's safe to assume that anyone who's seen him hasn't lived to tell the tale. You're not sure if he'll have any mercy at all to offer you. But maybe these two still have some in them.

"No, please!" you plead, your fists balled up as they rest on your thighs. "If I tell you where they are, will you go easy on me?" You let your head hang low, looking at the floor. San lowers himself in front of you and you find his eyes. You blink, letting a few tears slip down your cheeks.

"Sure, doll face. We will." You look away from him to briefly meet eyes with Seonghwa. He still stands at full height, arms crossed as he looks down at you. Perhaps it's your tears making your vision blurry, but you swear his gaze softens at the sight of you. You look back to San, sniffling.

"You promise?"

Now, never ever would someone in their right mind trust a promise from someone like them. But you're not planning on following through with your own side of the promise, either. Two can play at this game. You would never jeopardize the safety of SKZ...you told Chan you could handle yourself and you meant it.

"Promise," San says. He's truly something else, radiating such strong and convincing charm. You would fall for his promise in a heartbeat if you didn't know who he really was.

As you slowly rise from your knees, San stands with you. "They made me do it," you confess, more tears spilling from your eyes and taking your favorite mascara with them. "They said they would kill me if I didn't," you whisper, looking away.

"It's okay, doll," San says, coming closer to comfort you. You flinch before he touches you. "Just tell us where they are, okay? We'll help you." You bury yourself in his chest, your frame shaking in his arms as you cry quietly.

Your best performance yet, if you say so yourself.

After a long minute in his embrace, you begin to pull away. In the process, you grab the gun out of San's shoulder holster and hold the barrel to the center of his chest. He curses under his breath, raising his arms in defeat. You slowly step backwards, turning your aim to Seonghwa as a warning not to try anything, and then returning your aim to San. Seonghwa makes no attempt to grab for anything, so now you know for a fact that he is unarmed.

"I told you the first time that there's no one here with me." You smile. "But it's nice to discover that you both have a heart."

"Tell Chan we said hi," Seonghwa replies, irritated.

"Of course, it would be rude of me not to. It's truly been a pleasure, boys." You give Seonghwa a wink. "We'll meet again, right? Maybe you can introduce me to your boss next time."

You've backed up far enough to step onto the balcony, assessing the situation above and below. The garden below is deserted now that the auction has started, but it's a far drop to the ground. There is another balcony above you, but it seems a bit too high for you to escape to. You're trapped, so you're going to have to pull this off fast to avoid getting hurt.

All you can hear is the sound of your own heartbeat as you throw the gun over the railing into the garden. If you slip up, they could get their hands on it again, and you cannot let that happen. You'll fight the real way if you must.

As soon as it leaves your hands, the men launch at you. You quickly dodge them, ducking under San's punch and managing to sweep Seonghwa's leg, knocking him to the ground. Now that they're both on the balcony, you run back inside, shutting the french doors and locking them behind you. You know it will barely do anything to set them back—they could easily break them down if they wanted to. Through the glass, you watch as San pulls Seonghwa off the ground and looks at you. He doesn't make an immediate effort to get inside.

Is he letting you go?

You shouldn't wait around any longer to find out. You blow him a kiss before taking your exit out into the main hall.

But after stepping out, you see why they let you go...

#ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez reader insert #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez #park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader #choi san #choi san x reader #san x reader #bang chan #stray kids #ateez x female reader #ateez x y/n #skz

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joongernaut · 11 months

Text

glitter

⇢ pairing(s): park seonghwa x reader

⇢ genres: childhood friends to almost strangers to lovers, SMUT, fluff, a little angst but literally just a smidge

⇢ warnings: tooth-rotting fluff (i could not help myself with this one), subby-ish seonghwa because we love desperate men around here, oral sex (fem receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl, reader gets called 'noona' once, creampie (i simply forgot to write in a condom but practice safe sex everyone!)

⇢ word count: 3955

⇢ author's note: well this took a bit longer than expected but i was able to proofread and tie up the loose ends on this fic last night and now here we are! this is also my way of wiggling into writing for ateez more as they are one of my favorite groups 😁 also the song title is based off the song glitter by jamilah barry <3 enjoyyy

✧

“Did you know your little boyfriend is back in town?”

The question stopped you in mid-sip of your cup of tea as you peered over the rim of the mug at your roommate, Hongjoong. He peered back over his own mug with a little smirk on his face and a lift of his eyebrow.

Slowly bringing the mug down you let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, I’ve only heard the news about a hundred times. Kinda hard to forget, y’know,” You bit back with a sarcastic smile, “Also, he was never my boyfriend. Why does everyone keep saying that shit?”

“Hm, I really don't know,” Hongjoong said with a shrug, taking a drawn out sip from his coffee before speaking again, “It’s not like the guy followed you around like a lost puppy before and you let him. Honestly, I’m a little surprised you two didn't tie the knot right after high school, I was so sure you would be childhood sweethearts turned old, disgusting married couple.”

Hongjoong hissed as your foot kicked at his shin from under the table, glaring at him before you finally downed the contents of your mug. “God, you all are so annoying! First, my own family and now you? I don’t care if he’s in town, okay? We haven't talked in like 5 years and I highly doubt that I’d see him anyways. It’s whatever.” You said exasperatedly, chair scraping against the floor as you got up to place the empty mug into the kitchen sink.

“What if you do see him, though?” Hongjoong asked, the question once again catching you off guard. “What if he hasn't forgotten about you in the slightest in those years you two have spent apart?” He pressed on with a pointed look, watching your mouth open and close as you blinked over at him.

Park Seonghwa, from what you recalled years ago, was a very sweet boy.

You remember the first day you had met him, walking into your elementary homeroom class clinging to his mother with a thumb in his mouth and fat tears rolling down his face as he refused to let her go.

You were only 2 years older than him but still had felt the overwhelming need to protect him from any harm. And that's also how you two became close friends.

When Seonghwa would fall down and scrape his knee or elbow, you were there telling him not to cry while dusting him off and helping him get back up. When he wanted to be like the bigger kids, who were taller and strong enough to get on certain parts of the playground, you were there to encourage him and give him a boost. And when his eyes sparkled with curiosity, wanting to learn more about this and that as he gained new interests, you were there to talk and listen to him ramble on and on about anything and everything.

That Seonghwa was the one you hadn’t seen in years. You had been really good friends leading all the way up to high school and then slowly drifted apart during that time. Once college had begun, it was like he dropped off the face of the earth and you didn't hear from him for a while.

It wasn't like you to be stuck on anybody for too long, you watched many people come and go into your life before. But Seonghwa wasn't just anybody and you couldn't help but wonder about the crybaby often and what he had been up to lately.

Okay so maybe you did care just a little bit that he had come back to town. But did it really matter? After all, neither of you really made the effort to reach out to one another after going your separate ways.

You shook your head, pushing those fleeting thoughts away before you reminisced too deeply. “Like I said, I highly doubt it.” You mumbled with a shrug before turning away, a part of you truly doubtful while a sliver of yourself remained hopeful.

✧

You were home alone the very next day. Usually Hongjoong would be the one to stay inside while you were out and about but he had run off to god knows where and he insisted that you stay at the apartment to relax. “Because you deserve it.” He had told you with a wink.

So, naturally, you were suspicious.

Not that Hongjoong was an untrustworthy person or anything but this almost, overly-nice front he had put on since this morning was just a little off-putting. Before you could really begin to question him, he had already flown out of the door and was barely responding to your text messages.

He did make sure to tell you to listen out for the door, however, as he said he was ‘expecting something’. You had almost forgotten about whatever that ‘something’ would be, hours into the afternoon, until you heard the sound of knocking coming from the front door of your apartment.

Dreading on leaving the comfort of your spot on the couch, you heaved a sigh before getting up from your seat and dragged yourself over to the door to answer it. “Hello-” You swung the door open and were immediately greeted by someone's chest in your line of vision. Your eyes traveled upward and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

“Y/N… It’s good to see you again.”

The man before you looked much different from the last time you had seen him. But even with the big and little changes in his appearance and how he seemed to carry himself differently, you could still tell exactly who he was just based on the look in his eyes.

“Seonghwa,” You gaped, still not entirely sure if you were seeing him in front of you or just hallucinating after watching TV all day, “H-How… How did you…?” You trailed off with furrowed brows as he gave you a sheepish look in return.

“Ah, sorry, this is rather impromptu of me. I bumped into Hongjoong a few days ago when I first got back and he mentioned you two were roommates so…” Now it was his turn to trail off as a small blush formed on his cheeks. You mentally cursed at Hongjoong, finally putting the pieces together that he had set this all up. You didn't know whether to kiss him or kill him.

“I see,” You muttered, reminding yourself to shoot the little mastermind a colorfully worded text later, “Well, please, don't be shy. Come in, come in.” You insisted, a smile spreading across your face genuinely as you stepped to the side for him to enter.

Seonghwa smiled back gently, a sight that made your heart soar as you saw a flash of the boy you used to know appear for a split second before he stepped over the threshold.

✧

It had been hours of just talking and catching up with Seonghwa. You had learned that he was finishing up his last year of college soon, reaching to earn his degree in astronomy, and planned to move out of his dorm and into a place of his own nearby. The university he had attended was well out into the city, roughly 8 hours away, meanwhile you had attended your local college in town and graduated with your art degree about a year or so ago.

“Definitely not as cool as studying the stars and planets, though. I’m like the definition of a starving artist.” You chuckled, albeit a bit bitterly, facing Seonghwa as you propped your elbow over the back of the couch and tucked your legs underneath yourself.

Seonghwa had turned to face you as well but a bit awkward in body language, one leg crossed over the other as his hands remained in his lap stiffly. “Ah, it's not all that interesting. Trust me. Once math is involved, then you’ll see what I mean.” He said, earning another laugh from you that made his shoulders less tense and a fond smile spread on his face.

“You were always the artistic type, though. That’s something I’ve always liked and admired about you. Never afraid to be yourself… Just being able to think of something so creatively, from a vastly different perspective than anyone else, and turning it into something so beautiful. That’s always been pretty cool to me.” He went on, leaving you a bit stunned at his words.

“Hwa…” The old nickname slipped from your lips in a whispered tone and his eyes found yours, locking onto them as a few seconds passed by in stretched silence. Seonghwa opened his mouth to speak again, hesitating at first before licking his lips, and asked, “Can I tell you something?”

Words felt like they would fail you right now so you simply nodded for him to continue. Seonghwa swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking again. “I’m really happy that you still remember me. I know that's silly to say because it's only been a couple of years but I wouldn't know how to feel if you acted as if I was a complete stranger…” He said, looking away with an almost pained expression despite the smile still on his face.

“I would never! We were important to each other back then.” You told him, scooting closer to him on the couch as you reached out to place your hand over his own. Seonghwa’s eyes shot down toward the movement, feeling the warmth of you from your body’s proximity and your fingers touching him so delicately, then back up to your face. “And now? He questioned, hopeful, as he placed one of his hands over yours and squeezed.

You squeezed his hand back and sighed. “I was scared of the same thing… that you would forget about me or pretend like you did. Or you would see me and want nothing to do with me so I figured I’d try to avoid you... But after you showed up and we talked, it feels like you never really left at all.” You admitted, feeling Seonghwa subtly shuffle closer to you.

“I thought about you almost all of the time during the years we spent not with each other, Y/N. I don't think I could forget you even if I tried.” He admitted back, similar to the words Hongjoong had said to you the other day. That had to have been something Hongjoong had heard him say when they bumped into each other and you mentally noted to punch the man whenever he got home.

Right now, however, you were going to focus on Seonghwa and what you wanted to do next.

Your hand came up to wrap around the back of his neck and he froze, his body stiffening as you leaned in close until your lips were a breath away from his own. “Tell me if this is okay. I want to show you how important you still are to me.” You murmured, the movement of your lips lightly brushing against Seonghwa’s causing him to exhale shakily.

A quick nod was all the confirmation you needed before diving in, catching his mouth in a deep kiss. You untangled your other hand from his lap and brought it up to join the one around his neck as you pulled him closer, crawling your way into his lap in the process until you were straddling one of his thighs.

Seonghwa’s body shook slightly underneath you, his hands hovering over your sides as if he were hesitating to touch. You pulled away briefly, nibbling at his bottom lip before tugging it and making him groan. “You can touch me.” You said, sensing his hesitation, and started to lick the seam of his parted lips.

He let you in with no resistance, the feeling of your tongue against his wet and probing as his hands gripped onto your waist tightly.

You licked in to Seonghwa’s mouth eagerly as you started to move forward until he was effectively pushed onto his back with ease. Feeling breathless, you parted from his mouth again to catch yourself but started to trail your lips from the side of his face to his neck where you began to bite and suck at the sensitive skin there.

“Y/N…” He gasped before letting out a whiny moan. Your eyes flitted up to his face to take in the sight of Seonghwa— already looking debauched and fucked out, and you barely even started. “What do you want, Hwa?” You mumbled against his skin and he shivered at the sensation.

“Whatever you want. You take the lead. Please.” Seonghwa replied in a strained voice, holding onto you as if you were a lifeline.

When you suddenly pulled away from him and stood up, Seonghwa shot up in panic wondering if he had said something wrong until you put your hand out for him to take wordlessly.

He kept his mouth shut and took it, letting you guide him all the way to your bedroom where you closed the door behind him with a click of the lock, officially sealing your fate together.

“You told me to take the lead, right?” You questioned once you were facing Seonghwa again, slowly approaching him. Your finger traced small shapes onto his chest as you backed him up into the bed, the back of his knees hitting the edge and making him sit down.

His ass hadn't been on the bed for more than 3 seconds before Seonghwa slid off of it and onto his knees in front of you, peering up with wide expectant eyes. “Yes. You can do whatever you want to me, I’ll enjoy anything you give me.” His tone of voice sounded airy as he uttered those words and you couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair as he leaned into your touch.

“You’re already on your knees for me… surely you already had something in mind.” You smirked at him teasingly, watching him shift under your gaze. “Can I…?” He trailed off questioningly as his eyes flickered quickly from your face to the crotch of your sweatpants and back up again. Heat pooled in the pit of your stomach seeing how eager he was to please. Eager to please you.

You tugged your sweatpants down until they dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, kicking away the article of clothing before stepping closer to Seonghwa. His breathing had gotten shallow once his eyes fell onto your panty-covered pussy, the thin layer of the material leaving little to the imagination. The small wet spot he could see near the center made his cock twitch, straining against his pants.

Seonghwa’s hands gently grazed along your ankles first, gradually going higher from there to the back of your knees and up the back up your thighs. A small shiver raked through you when his fingers traced the lining of your underwear, slipping under the band a little as he grabbed ahold of your ass.

“A-Ah… Hwa…” You moaned softly when he pressed you forward into his face and placed a lingering kiss onto your mound right where your clit was. You took a step closer to him, pressing his face fully into your pussy now, and what little hold he had of his composure immediately slipped.

Seonghwa groaned as he buried his face into every crevice he could fit into, his long tongue rolling out of his mouth so he could run it along the moist material messily. “Knew you’d taste good,” He mumbled against the inside of your thigh, “Smell good, too. I could only dream about something like this happening in real life.” He added before latching his lips onto your clit and sucking the bud through the fabric. This plus the friction of your panties still covering your pussy was enough to make your body lurch forward a bit.

The back of Seonghwa’s head was now pressed against the edge of the bed, pinned between the comforter as you began to grind against his face.

“You should've told me sooner. I think I like seeing you like this.” You told him with a breathless giggle, swiveling your hips as Seonghwa tried to follow every movement to the best of his ability. He didn't mind it. You were using him to pleasure yourself and he couldn't be any more happier.

His grip on your ass had tightened when he felt you begin to back up and you rubbed your thumb against his wrist to make him loosen his hold. “I just wanna move onto the bed, Hwa.” You reassured him and he reluctantly let go. Despite not being completely bare, the evidence of your arousal shined like a gloss on Seonghwa’s bruised lips when you got a good look at him.

You crawled onto your bed, peeling your shirt and dampened panties off before throwing them somewhere you’d worry about later, and waited for Seonghwa to join you. Realizing your lack of underwear now, he followed along until he was stripped bare and crawled slowly up the bed until he was situated between your spread thighs.

Seonghwa’s eyes stayed locked onto your own as he trailed kisses along the inside of your thigh, bringing his face closer and closer until he could finally taste you without restriction or barriers.

The first swipe of Seonghwa’s tongue starting slowly from your hole up to your clit had your legs spreading out wider for him. And when his plump lips wrapped around your clit sucking earnestly, you felt your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you reached out to grip his hair roughly.

Seonghwa groaned, muffled by his ministrations, and the vibration of it made your hips buck up. He unlatched himself from your clit briefly only to laser focus his attention on dipping his tongue into your hole to lap up whatever juices started to leak from it.

“Hwa,” His name came out in a shuddered moan as you placed your hands on his shoulders and squeezed to get his attention, “I really need you.”

Seonghwa’s response came delayed, spending a couple extra minutes using his tongue to simply savor your taste before he made his way up your body where his mouth came crashing into yours. “You have me, baby.” He panted between open-mouthed kisses as his hand came up between your bodies to grab ahold of his throbbing cock.

“Do I?” You smirked against his mouth, nudging his hand out of the way so you could wrap your own around his length. Seonghwa gasped lightly, bucking up into the tight ring of your fist. “You think you could switch places with me, baby?” You purred as you stroked his cock languidly. It didn't take long for him to carefully flip the two of you over and have you hovering above him.

“Fuck, you're–” Seonghwa breathed out, eyes glued to your face as you rubbed the tip of his dick through your folds, “you’re just as beautiful as I always remembered but this is truly a sight.” He said while trailing his hands along your thighs then higher up to your hips where he held onto them as you lined him up to your entrance.

The breach stung a bit once you started to sink down onto him and Seonghwa rubbed his thumbs gently into your hip bones as you took your time taking him all the way inside of you. “I’m starting to believe that crush everyone keeps saying you had on me.” You sighed out once your pelvic bone met his, moving your hips slowly in small circles as you relished the way Seonghwa felt so deep inside of you.

“Have,” Seonghwa corrected as he tried to keep himself still under your movements, twitching every time he felt your walls constrict around his cock, “I think it was obvious to everyone but you.” He licked at his lips before tucking his bottom lip between his teeth when you lifted yourself up momentarily only to sink yourself back down onto him.

Picking up a steady pace now, not going too fast or too slow, you simply enjoyed the way Seonghwa stretched you out and filled you up with every movement of your hips. A whimper-like sound punched out of him when you came back down just a little bit harder, clenching around his cock, and you cooed at the noise. “Poor baby. Am I at least making it up to you well?” You pouted at him with a tilt of your head, smoothing a hand down his chest soothingly.

“Noona,” Seonghwa whined, your body immediately stiffening at the sound of his voice sounding so wrecked, “Please, please go faster.”

You obliged without question, deciding that you would have a chance to tease him another time. You pressed your hand down flat on Seonghwa’s chest and used it as leverage to ride him the way you knew you would both love; bouncing on his dick as he thrusted upward involuntarily to meet the action.

This helps Seonghwa to go a little bit deeper, the head of his cock brushing along your walls just right until he hits directly at the spot that has you quivering above him.

You can barely hold yourself up and soon feel your arm give out as you bow your back and press your foreheads together. “Feel s-so good, baby…” You muttered while staring into Seonghwa’s eyes. His half-lidded gaze stared back briefly before pressing your mouths together in an intimate kiss.

He then caught you off guard by starting to buck up into you, almost frantically, as he wrapped his arms around your body and pressed you to his chest. “Cum with me, please, please, please–” Seonghwa begged, seemingly right on the edge of cumming.

Thankfully you weren't too far behind him with the way he had started to desperately fuck into you. And with the remaining body strength you could muster, you rode him with just as much urgency while still pressed closely to his chest.

Seonghwa had been the first to tip over, pleading over and over again until his voice became slightly hoarse. He stilled himself deep inside of you before you felt warmth filling you up in spurts, a pretty drawn out moan falling from his lips as you clenched around him tightly and followed suit.

You whimpered as Seonghwa helped you ride it out, his hands placed on your waist to help you grind down against him and giving your clit some added friction.

Feeling boneless, but most of all satiated, you finally collapsed against him as he started to rub along your back and traced over your spine. The delicate feeling of his fingers sent a tingle throughout your being that you could only chalk up to the resurfacing of those feelings you had kept hidden so deep within.

Seonghwa attempted to sit up and you grumbled in protest causing a laugh to escape him. “We have to get cleaned up.” He reasoned but you only clung on to him tighter as he rose and had you seated on his lap. “Will you stay afterwards?” You asked quietly, hope laced into your tone with a hint of vulnerability. Because now that you had him in your life again you would be damned to see him go so quickly.

“Of course. I’m not going anywhere without you again.” Seonghwa said, leaning forward to press his lips chastely against your forehead before looking at you with eyes full of love and sincerity.

Those same eyes that always held the stars in them that sparkled like glitter and reassured you that he would be right by your side for as long as you would let him.

#park seonghwa #seonghwa #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez fics #ateez reader insert #ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fics #kpop smut fics

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chokchokk · 9 months

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𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞-𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞 | ateez ensemble

a geondal/organised crime!ateez series

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : You just wanted to live, never wanted to be rich, yet ten years later, you are swimming in money— planning to drown in it, and maybe because it's fate, there's a bounty put on you by a past you didn't know would catch up.

As their secret getaway driver to success, your men say you should be more careful, but it's been a while nobody knew what you are capable of, hasn't it?

It's time for one final ride, Y/N.

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : noir, smut | korean mafia/geondal!au | chaebol!ceo!au

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : korean mafia, organised crime, chaebol (the rich in korea), toxic masculinity, brothels, prostitution; porn with plot, everybody wants reader (ateez ensemble x fem!reader), reader is milf (without the child part), please refer to each part for more specific warnings

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 : on-going

chapters under the cut~

spotify playlist* | main masterlist (* updated as the series goes)

CLEAR.

𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 | san : seonghwa | 18.2k

DEPART.

ROAD.

DRIFT.

ACCELERATE.

GETAWAY.

want to be added to the tag-list?

join here or get in my inbox, leave comments, anything! :) thank you!

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keylimeyunho · 1 year

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hard to ignore: part 1

part 1: “your dream”

pairing: reader x fuckboyidol!san genre: smut, fluff word count: 4.1k warning(s): none for this chapter

“the concert starts promptly at 7:30. make sure they’re ready by 5.”

he threw the keys in your lap, placed a folded paper on the table of your new trailer, and held out his hand. you immediately shook it.

“welcome to the team.”

you beamed proudly and nodded your head aggressively. yes, of course, they would be ready by 5, maybe even 4:30 if you got a head start. but the man proceeded to just stand in your trailer and stare you down.

“with this being your first time working with the boys,” he cleared his throat “i’m going to give a little word of advice before you head to their dressing room.”

he walked over to the couch across from where you sat at your trailer’s kitchen table, and relaxed his arm over its cusion. he stared you down once again, looking into your pupils as if he was scanning for information about you that he didn’t already know, or couldn’t find in your resume.

“there’s eight of them… and some of them are…different. don’t let them get to you.”

you tilted your head and laughed, but only a little. of course, they would each be different; they’re human, after all. why would you need to be warned about something so trivial? “what do you mean by 'different'?”

he kept a thin lipped smile and just exhaled out his nose, silently, keeping the eye contact. “you’ll soon find out.” the man then stood up, straightened his jacket, and headed towards the trailer door. “just…be cautious. we want this tour to go smoothly, okay? no mishaps.”

“now what does that mean?” you wanted to say but you kept that thought to yourself and just held a thin-lipped smile in return, holding a strong thumbs up to let him know yes, of course. because **you weren’t about to risk losing the only job you ever wanted on day one.t

you raised an eyebrow and kept eye contact with him. “no mishaps. i swear it."

—

after dumping out your enormous stash of makeup out of your suitcase, you realized you may have overpacked. every size brush dispersed over at least ten shades of concealer and a mountain of eye shadow palettes looked up at you. but you also knew it was best to not make the rookie mistake of giving these boys the wrong products, let alone the wrong shades.

after almost three years of cosmotology school, thousands of dollars in scholarships, and a handful of temporary salon jobs, you had finally landed your first big gig. and you weren’t going to be just any stylist. you were going to be working for one of the biggest names in music, in k-pop.

kq entertainment was one of the last companies you expected to even glance at your application, let alone accept it, but they were pleasantly surprised with your extensive resume of internships and recommendations from clients at your old job. and besides, they had just lost a series of stylists so they were desperate for someone to work immediately and last-minute. and with you eager to leave a job that could not pay your rent or even just your coffee every week, that made you the perfect candidate.

especially since you graduated top of your class and spent the entirety of your undergrad working as a nail tech and shampooer right after tech school, you had more experience and drive than anyone in the running because most people just worked to pass so they could get a mediocre job at their local hair salon, getting paid maybe 30k a year (if they’re lucky) to dye greying old ladies’ hairlines various shades of brown.

but this..this was your dream. creating something original and getting to express your love of fashion, hair, and makeup to put on a show. and doing that for a group as big as ateez was absolutely surreal.

you didn’t know much about them, besides the fact they were outselling arenas all over the nation. you never paid much attention to guys, anyway, even the ones who sat next to you in class and tried to write notes to you in the margins of your paper. but you were usually too consumed in what was on the board than what the guy next to you was doing. like you said, this was your dream. not the lackluster boys who were definitely failing out of their classes. and besides, those boys were never that memorable in looks, anyway.

closing the door to your trailer, you hit the dirt with your platforms and headed towards the boys dressing room. you decided to put on your most original look you could think of that was not too over the top for complete strangers. you strapped on some ankle boots paired with a lavender maxi skirt that matched the purple satin bustier you donned under a cropped leather jacket. you made sure to showcase your personality patches of your favorite bands that you sewed onto your messenger bag.

unfolding the paper the director had given you, you looked carefully down at the order of of which member you would style first:

y/n,

the boys are trailer 1024. the order for the makeup cycle will be

wooyoung, jongho, mingi, seonghwa, yeosang, hongjoong, san, yunho

today we only need you to prepare their makeup for the show. it’s their first night in seoul since the pandemic so tonight, they need to make an impact. play off their show outfits and give us something fresh.

- kq creative team

the list was new for you and the first time you heard any of the members’ names. despite the fact you had already met with the kq staff running this concert, you still had yet to meet any of the actual members. you shouldn’t be that surprised, considering they’re famous celebrities who definitely don’t have time to meet and greet all their staff. but since you were about to spend the next few months alongside them at every tour stop, your first official meeting with them being the tour’s kick-off was a bit nerve-wracking but nevertheless exciting.

walking through the rows of trailers full of kq staff, you finally located trailer 1024 about a couple doors down from yours. you saw a door with the word ARTIST in huge red letters printed on a paper taped on the door.

this will make it so much easier to get them ready everyday, you thought. not that far a walk.

you straightened your jacket and smiled at your reflection in the trailer window before knocking.

no mishaps.

the trailer door opened almost immediately, as if the person inside was waiting for you to rap on their door. A red-haired guy with bright brown eyes and a sharp jawline stood at the door. he was in a white tanktop, but below his waist were dress pants and dance shoes. he looked like he was halfway dressed to perform on stage and he looked a little too pretty to be their manager.

you held your smile tightly, waiting for him to say the first words.

“ah, are you y/n?” he said, leaning his elbow above his head on the edge of the door, flashing an unsurprisingly perfect smile

you nodded and bowed quickly, handing him the paper the director had given you. “at your service!”

keeping his elbow on the door, he took the paper out of your hands and scanned over it quickly. “nice to finally meet you, y/n.” he moved out of the way and reached out his hand to you. “i’m wooyoung. come in.”

you thanked him and he closed the door behind you as you took your first steps inside. it was double the size of your trailer but since they were the artists and you just came on tour for their makeup, it made sense they would have more leg room after each show.

you were expecting to see eight boys sitting on the couch waiting patiently for their makeup stylist; however, wooyoung seemed to be the only around.

“here- catch!” he catches you off guard and as you turn around, a drink can flies towards your head.

you were so entranced by the sheer size of their place that you didn’t see wooyoung go into their fridge and take out two redbulls. you catch the redbull with one hand, surprising yourself. he smirks a little before cracking open his own can. “nice. quick reflexes. you’re gonna need those if you want to work with us.”

what does that even mean? “everyone has been saying things like that about you guys. what exactly am i preparing for?” you crack the can open, as well, and take a gulp.

wooyoung plops on the couch and downs the can in under a few seconds. he sighs and runs his fingers through his red hair. “it means you’re our third stylist this month.” he tosses the now empty can like a basketball across the room and of course it lands with a perfect swish into the trash can next to the door. “and i don’t want to move onto a fourth.”

you sip carefully on the redbull can. between the director and now wooyoung’s words, you start to wonder if working with ateez was not what you had expected it to be. maybe these boys are going to be more work than just opening up a few eye shadow palettes and blowing drying their hair.

but wooyoung smiles at you softly before you let that thought fully form. “but don’t worry about it too much. with your experience, i’m sure we’ll be light work compared to the clients you’ve had before.”

that was true. working with screaming nine-year-olds and their 35-year old mothers was definitely the lowest you could have reached. you took wooyoung’s words with a grain of salt and stuck them in your back pocket.

“thanks.” you respond “but i do have one question…” you down the rest of the can and mimic wooyoung, tossing it behind you. “where are the rest of the members?”

wooyoung laughs. “we rotate, usually. the rest of them are getting changed or getting their hair done first. meanwhile, i’m scheduled for makeup first.” he gets up and starts heading down to one of the other doors in the trailer. “we each have about 20 minutes per rotation, so once you finish with me, the next one of us will coming knocking on the door.”

you looked at the clock on the wall in the trailer kitchen. five minutes had already past, giving you only 15 minutes left with wooyoung.

as if he could read your mind, wooyoung opens one of the doors. “welcome to the official ateez dressing room. come on in”

—

contrary to what everyone was saying, these boys were actually quite pleasant. for being famous celebrities who had fans cheering for them every night, you expected artists like them would walk around like they were above your pay grade (which they were) and deserved your utmost respect. but to your surprise, they were just- normal. some of them even shy.

for being the 6’2 rapper, mingi had trouble keeping eye contact with you while you looked at his face before starting, trying to get the lay of the land (or his visage). his fire red and orange hair intimidated you but as soon as you stopped looking he burst out . “i-i just want to say, i love your hairstyle.”

you touched your hair and looked away for a second. did he just compliment me? my hair?

“wow, um..thank you.” you blushed. “i think your hair is pretty nice, too..if not even better than mine.”

and even seonghwa, the greek god of a man with some of the most perfect features you’d ever admired kept giggling at every joke you made, some that weren’t even your best. you tried not to mess up his perfectly tousled blonde hair when powdering his face and drawing on his eyeliner carefully, but he flinched at your every touch.

“i-i’m sorry. i’m just scared i’ll mess you up." seonghwa says, looking away and scratching his arm nervously. "we haven’t had eyeliner in years, i'm happy you're bringing it back”

“really?” you lifted an eyebrow. out of all the concept photos you studied before today, you remember looking that the “say my name” era with smokey eyeliner was your favorite look. “well, good thing i’m here. i think it's time for a change."

seonghwa looked down and smiled slightly. “yeah..good thing.”

now, when jongho waltzed in, he had the most adorable smile you'd ever seen on an idol. stubby teeth and gums showing ever so slightly that made your eyes soften proved he was obviously the maknae. but you would never know because his vocals did not match that face.

he had begun practicing one of their sets. it made your heart flutter. you never heard such a powerful and angelic voice. (and you get to do his makeup?)

“you have such a beautiful voice” you said to him as you brushed the contour over the crest of his forehead. he flashed his gummy smile again and looked down shyly. “but, i will be honest, though," you admitted with a twinge of shame. "i really haven't heard much of your music."

jongho raised an eyebrow but quickly retracted it, at as to not mess up the contour. he didn't respond, but simply grabbed his phone out of his pocket, opening spotify.

the beginning note of a song began to play. he finally replies, “well, you should change that then.” the beginning note of their song "answer" begins to echo through the cool air of the dressing room. the music bounces around the room while you listen to his studio version which sounds just like the vocals you heard minutes prior.

now yeosang was the member who brought out your first real laugh of the day. walking into the room, he waved to you excitedly. "hi! i'm yeosang, nice to finally see your fa-"

yeosang didn’t notice your messenger bag by the door and is caught off as he trips over it. but instead of hitting the floor, yeosang somersaults over the bag and gets up like nothing just happened. standing there, stunned and surprised himself, he says, “you didnt see that.”

he looked down at your bag, about to pretend to kick it out the door, when he notices your patches. “pierce the veil? who is that?”

you smiled and this time, you take out spotify yourself to show yeosang your playlists.

next, hongjoong walked into the room. his hair was a striking royal blue and he was all suited up with a gold trim, black jacket. a regal look you were sure would make his fans go absolutely wild for him.

"y/n? it's so nice to finally meet you." he stuck out his hand. "our new stylist"

still holding eyeshadow brushes and cotton rounds in your hands, you weren't expecting such a nice greeting. you quickly set everything down and straighten yourself up to shake his hand. "that's me."

hongjoong settles down in the chair in front of you and closes his eyes.

"what are you doing?" you laugh, as you look for primer to start him off.

hongjoong immediately opens his eyes again. "oh.." he says nervously. "are you not starting yet?"

you chuckle to yourself, what an interesting guy. "i haven't even got the primer out yet."

his palm hits his face and slides down slowly in shame. "i'm sorry, i'm a bit of a mess. it's our first show since the pandemic and... i don't know. i'm excited to meet our fans again, but nervous they won't like what we have in store for them. it's just been so long since our last show..almost two years"

you stop rummaging in your bag to stare at him in shock. "what? of course they'll love you" you couldn't believe you were becoming a celebrity therapist, too. "and besides, you have an awesome stylist that will make you look out of this world."

hongjoong scratches his head and laughs lightly. "yeah..yeah you're right. i just love our fans so much, they mean the world to us"

you look at hongjoong as he continues to nervously scratch his head. where was the notion that these guys would be too much to handle? after only six members had finished their makeup, it seemed they were some of the sweetest and most devoted people you have ever worked with, even met. the stylists that decide to leave these angelic boys dropped the ball, big time.

—

as hongjoong thanked you for your hard work and walked out, you began looking at the list to see which member was next to come in. before you got your answer, you jumped as the door opened right as hongjoong closed it.

wearing another gold trim velvet jacket, held together by a single button, the most attractive- no, stunning man you have ever came across walked right through the dressing room door.

you never usually got starstruck and even the previous members were encapsulating beautiful. but this man, with his black hair still wet and slick from his shower and his jawline locked towards you, something about him made you almost stumble off your stool.

"oh. um..h-hi. n-nice to finally meet you" you said as you regained balanced, cringing at your own words.

he chuckled and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "oh, i already know you." he stepped a couple feet closer so you were now right under his gaze, under his chin. you could smell the faint cologne coming off his skin, making you want to get even closer to him to get another whiff, but you just stood there, in awe.

it took you a second to register what he just said. "wait..what does that mean?"

his brown eyes glinted and you could feel his breath on your face. a smile peeked at the corner of his lips and he said almost at a whisper, "you're that beautiful girl who lives three doors down from our trailer, right?"

looking into the dressing room mirror behind him, you gawk at yourself. is he talking about me?

turning to back to face him, you shrug. "n-no. i'm just your stylist." you go into your pocket and dig out the folded paper the director gave you to prove the truth: you really were just some girl kq hired to put makeup on him. he was getting you confused with someone else, someone much more interesting than you, right?

he took the paper out of your hand and suddenly began ripping it, shred after shred, letting the paper fall to the ground in between you. he bends down to look into your eyes.

my god, you didn't realize how large he was. you were too distracted by his broad shoulders that looked like they were about to burst out of his jacket. you could see right down the center of his shirt and you could almost see-

"i'm san and you're y/n, my stylist, the fine girl with the patches on her bookbag who lives in trailer 1021." he tilted his head and smirked, the tip of his tongue peeking out the corner of his lips. "don't act like i don't know exactly who you are. i know a pretty girl when i see one."

you stood there, stunned. there's no way he was still talking about you. "i'm not sure what you mean..san."

san stands back up. "tsk, tsk," he sighed, shaking his head so the water droplets fell off his soaking hair onto your shirt. you watch the droplets seep into the cotto, wondering if some of his sweat was mixed in. "don't worry, pretty girl. we'll get to know each other soon enough."

he proceeds to sit in the chair in front of you, innocently looking up with his adorable brown eyes, as if he was not just full-on flirting with his stylist seconds before. "just put the makeup on me, if you will."

you roll your eyes with a smile and start setting the concealer on his face.

"sorry, i-" you start to say, but your own giggles cut you off. "i just- i never heard someone say that kind of thing about me. caught me off guard, that's all."

san's eyes droop and he pouts. "you mean no one has ever told you how beautiful your hair falls off you." he touches the hand by your side, grazing his fingertips over your own. "or how hard you are making it to sit in my chair right now"

oh my god, you think to yourself, this has to be a all in my head. a member of ateez was sitting here flirting with you and trying to hold your hand, looking so enchantingly into your eyes.

part of you wants to grab his hand and rope your fingers between his and tell him, no one's ever told me that before, but i'll let you be the first. you sigh at the thought.

"no mishaps." the director's words ring in you're ears. you're here for one thing and one only. don't fuck it up.

as if he read your mind, san starts to drag his fingers over your palm, but you yank your hand away before he gets that far.

"nope, no one." you turn back to your makeup bag. "bow, please be silent while i draw on your eyeliner." you assert your dominance back in the conversation, trying to diffuse the hot tension boiling between you and the finest, yet most annoying man you've ever met.

san pouts again and his pupils grow, almost like a kitten's. he folds his hand in his lap and heaves out a sigh that you try to ignore. "alright, i guess. but at least let me see your face, pretty girl, one more time.. if i can't compliment it"

you turn around and give him a pity smile. "fine. now, close your eyes."

surprisingly, he does what you say, a thin-lipped smile stuck on his face as if he was satisfied with being nowhere else but here with you, letting you do whatever you want to him.

"so, who's your favorite?"

san's question causes you to shake and run a streak of eyeliner down his face.

"shit! sorry- um," you race to clean him up as he remains unbothered, waiting patiently for your answer. you wipe his face and admit, "i honestly don't have one, i mean, i just met all. of you "

san chuckles lightly, "don't lie, i know you have a favorite."

your face turns a shade of red that he thankfully can't see because he still waits patiently for your eyeliner with his lids closed. "i still have one member left after you. i'll let you know who i decide later."

"okay." san lifts his hand up. "shake on it."

now he's lost it. you know for a fact he just wants you to succumb to his charms (which you almost did, but you remained strong) and say oh, san, it's you, of course! but you were his stylist. you worked for him. an obvious power imbalance and obviously something that would mess up your career, and everything you worked for.

"i'm all good. i'll let you know my answer, if i feel like it." you assert with him. this time, san opens his eyes and smirks.

"well, princess, i don't think you-"

"all done!" you snap the blush pad closed, sarcasm hanging off your lips and not realizing he was about to say something. "thanks for being such an amazing client!"

this cannot happen again, before anyone finds out you and san were just within inches of each other, breathing on each other and feeling on each other's hands and-

"wait, y/n, can i-" san starts.

"i'm all good, actually, whatever it is. you need to keep the cycle moving anyway" you usher him out. however, he snatches the folded paper off the table and rips a small piece off, quickly scribbling something onto it.

he hands you the paper back, re-folded, and whispers in your ear, hot breath rubbing against your eardrums and making you squirm.

"for when you're ready."

he bows to you and closes the dressing room door carefully, leaving you in silence, standing with a paper in your hand and the air conditioner running loudly. you unfold the paper carefully and your jaw drops at its contents:

a phone number scrawled hastily onto the paper, attached with only the words, "for when my pretty girl decides to tell me i'm her favorite :)"

series masterlist | next chapter

tag list: @atinytinaa @cloudysannie @s10an

#please give this love and tell me what you think #part 2 will be longer i swear #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez yeosang #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung #ateez au #ateez yunho #ateez imagines #ateez reader insert #ateez seonghwa #ateez san smut #ateez san fanfic #ateez hongjoong

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herarcadewasteland · 6 months

Text

Spin, Dare, Hide.

A/N: The full first chapter of SDH! I'm back to being motivated so you get the full chapter after so long lmao

-18+, slight violence, swearing, jisung is a little shit, ateez kinda yandere towards the end

-ateez x reader, mentions of skz because Han Jisung is your bff

1 of 2 (We'll see how much more I write from today onwards)

this is TWELVE of 14 pages i have written lol... not edited or re-read

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Spin the bottle, hide and seek and truth or dare. Three separate games Jisung had decided to combine for a game he called SDH. Spin, dare, hide. The way it worked was a little too complicated for your liking, your head going blank as you listened to him explain it eight times over. You spin the bottle, the person it landed on is the seeker. You must do a dare they ask you and then you hide. You get a minute to hide. After that minute is done, your seeker has a time limit of 3 minutes to find you. If they find you, they do what they want with you. If you aren’t found, your past seeker spins the bottle and whoever it lands on swaps out and becomes the seeker. The game continues like this until either one person has not been found by anyone or the hider is found and “dealt with”, as Jisung phrased it. The only limit to the game was the extent of pain you could put a person through with your dare. You couldn’t ask your daree to hurt themselves or anyone else in an extreme fashion. The most you could ask would be a spank or a small slap on the face, even a slap on the wrist, forehead flicks included. That limit extended to the “do whatever you want to them” prize for finding the hider. The only pain you could inflict was determined before the actions were taken and done safely with consent.

It was something you had played with Jisung, Chan and Hyunjin before, but sitting on the floor, listening to Jisung explain it all to Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho, you wanted to be anywhere else but there. The confusion on their faces was visible, Jisung cackling as he explained the pain limits set in place. Feeling a gaze on you that you knew wasn’t Jisungs, as he was busy staring down Yeosang who had a small blush covering his face, you turned to look around. Looking past them all, you landed on Wooyoung. His gaze was… intense. He was always the flirty one but the look in his eyes was determined. Almost like he was taking the challenge of the game personally. When you met his eyes though, they cleared and he smiled at you brightly, a small one tugging at your lips in response until Jisung smacked you on the shoulder.

He was still rambling about the game and you vaguely heard a question directed at you, just nodding along as you got lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t until you heard someone choking on their drink and Jisung shouting at you in pride that you snapped back into reality and looked around the group in confusion. The reactions were different, but each man now had a darker look behind their kind eyes. Mingi had been the one to choke, his face beet red as he smacked his chest. Wooyoung sported a massive smirk, looking eerily close to the joker smile. Hongjoong was watching you look at them with curiosity and the others were all just slightly red in the face. San was the only one you could really tell what he was thinking. His lips parted as his breathing picked up, his legs crossed and he stared at you with darkened, hooded eyes. It was clear he was imagining what he could do to you if he found you but a sharp nudge from Seonghwa on his side made him sit up, his previous state gone entirely as you watched him with wide eyes.

Jisung caught your attention again, his eyes as wide as yours as you looked at him with so much visible confusion.

“What?”

“Did you even hear me?”

“Oh.. no… Was I supposed to? You were explaining the game. I know how it works.”, you raised an eyebrow at Jisung.

He only answered with a laugh, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he continued to explain the little details of the game he created. He gave you no indication of just what you had agreed to when you were zoned out, his attitude more cocky than usual as he held you to him tightly. You huffed in annoyance and confusion as you sat, waiting for the explanation to be over. It took Jisung about three more minutes to finish explaining everything, questions answered and players ready.

“Okay, someone grab a bottle! It’s time to play~”, Jisung cackled and rocked with you in his hold, your eyes rolling at his maniac-esk tendencies.

“What did I agree to? I think it’s against the rules for me not to know.”

“Wrong! I made the rules, so for you, sweetpea, it’s not gonna harm you.”, Jisung planted a loud kiss on your cheek and you grunted, shoving him away to sit on the floor in front of him.

Yunho came back into the room with a bright smile and a half empty bottle of vodka in hand, followed by Yeosang who carried a bowl of snacks to the couch to share around. You accepted gratefully, munching on a small handful as everyone got settled in a circle, Jisung excluded. You called him a traitor as the last two settled down fully, the back of your head being smacked.

“Okay, now. Let’s start with a simple round of Truth or Drink. Don’t answer the truth and someone knows you’re lying, you drink. You get away with a lie and that’s that. Got it? Good. Jongho!”, Jisung pointed at Jongho as he shouted his name, the change in volume making you jump slightly against his legs, to which he laughed.

A simple hum answered him, Jongho leaning forward in his seat as Jisung copied him. His eyes darted down to you briefly before Jisung hummed obnoxiously loud, his eyes trailing back up to meet Jisung’s.

“Do you know who has the biggest dick?”

“Yeah.”, Jongho scoffed and turned his gaze to Seonghwa, “Hyung, did you eat my lunch yesterday?”

Seonghwa had the decency to look ashamed, his ears flushing red as he covered his mouth with his hand. He simply nodded and sat up straighter, staring daggers at Wooyoung who cowered away slightly.

“Did you take my Star Wars Lego and re-gift it to me during the holidays?”

Wooyoung choked on air, his eyes widening in fear as Seonghwa stood from his spot, rage seeping from him as he made his way to the frantically mumbling Wooyoung. Hongjoong stopped them quickly but when Wooyoung muttered a small ‘yes’ before he booked it outside, Hongjoong had no hope against the force of angry Seonghwa as he barrelled after the culprit.

You sat in your spot, lips pressed together to stop the laughter from spilling through as Jisung cackled at your back, San looked unbothered, almost like he knew about the occurrences. The others looked slightly concerned for Wooyoung as scared screams from Wooyoung echoed as Seonghwa shouted profanities at him. Snacks were passed around as the chase continued outside and was soon forgotten as you ate, conversation flowing naturally until Seonghwa burst through the door with Wooyoung, a harsh grip on his ear as he dropped him where he was sitting previously. He retook his own seat, San patting his thigh comfortingly as Seonghwa huffed in anger. You let out a small giggle, the despair in his actions pulling it from you before you could stop it. The glare was turned to you quickly and you muttered apologies and bowed your head to him repeatedly, his glare leaving his eyes soon after as he calmed down fully.

“Oh Jisung~”, Wooyoung called out to your friend, “Have you kissed Y/n?”

Gasps filled the room and your jaw dropped, staring at the cocky look on Wooyoung’s face as he sipped his drink. Jisung hummed and ran his hand over your hair, your head shaking in response to the question before he grabbed the sides of it to stop you.

“No, but I can.”, he emphasized his point by planting a kiss on the top of your head, your jaw snapping shut as you punched Jisungs legs where you could reach.

“OK, since I asked someone already, San. Would you kiss one of the people beside you?”

You watched as his head turned to either side, glancing over his friends before he nodded, “Yeah. Probably would.”

A few cries of shock followed his answer, the two to his sides blushing red as they stared at the carpet below them. You smacked Jisung’s leg again, hand reaching for the snacks as the questions were passed between the rest of the boys. Soon enough, after a few angry chases through the backyard and a few insults here and there, your name was being called by Yeosang. You met his eyes easily, head tilted in question as you swallowed the mouthful of Doritos you had been crunching.

“Would you make out with anyone in the room…minus Jisung?”, his eyes were curious as he held your gaze but you could feel the weight of the others’ darkened eyes on your frame as you thought for a moment.

With your eyes steadily on Yeosang, you licked your lips slowly, still thinking before you no longer had to, Yeosangs answering lip lick solidifying what you were, in all honesty, pretending to think about.

“Yes. In a heartbeat.”, your face lit up with a blush as they groaned, some shifting in their spots as others hid behind their hands to save face in front of you.

“So why don’t you?”

“What?”, your head snapped to Jisung, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched the panic course through you.

“Make out with one of them. I dare you.”

“This isn’t the game, Jisung.”

“Good thing a preliminary game of spin the bottle is next then huh?”

You groaned and smacked him, running your clammy hands over your face as you huffed out a breath of pure tension, “I think we get that you smashed together some games and forced us to play it for your pleasure.”

A few laughs greeted your ears, Jisung’s angry huff reaching you between the laughs before you had a smack landed on the top of your head. You groaned a little and rubbed your head, glaring up at Jisung from your spot.

“Unnecessary!”

“Shut up. Fine, we’ll just start the game. Since our dear Y/n decided to ruin our pre-game, she’ll spin first!~”, Jisung pushed you forwards slightly, your hands catching you as you fell forward.

You sat upright with a huff and shook your head, reaching for the bottle that Yunho still held. The level of vodka in it had dropped and you raised an eyebrow, his sheepish smile answering all your questions. You let it go and set the bottle in the middle of your circle, sitting on your knees at arm’s length away from it, you grasped the body and spun it. Watching it spin, your heart rate picked up, the bottle slowly coming to a stop as you stared at it. You didn’t want to look away from it, if it had landed on him, you knew you would be found and there was no telling just what would happen.

You felt all their gazes on you as you stared holes into the bottle, the neck pointing somewhere to your front right. A throat clearing made your shoulders jump, your eyes flicking away from the bottle in the general direction of Jisung behind you with a glare. You took a deep breath, staring at the bottle still. Exhaling sharply as you glanced up to meet your seeker’s eyes, you froze. You were fearing being seeked out by Wooyoung but seeing Hongjoong staring you down, head tilted down slightly and to the side as he smirked, his tongue peeking out between his teeth as he watched you, you knew you had been afraid of the wrong person.

Red rushed over your face, a sympathizing chuckle coming from someone to your left and as you glanced over quickly, you were surprised to see Yeosang smirking at you in a similar way. The blush heated your face quicker, your cheeks burning as you glanced back at Hongjoong, who had shifted to kneel in his spot between Mingi and Jongho. You met his dark eyes, his head tilting further in silence as he picked up on your spike of fear.

“The captain first. How fitting! Now, you have to give her a dare! She can’t say no.”, Jisung interrupted your staring contest, your fear dying in your chest slowly as the look faded from Hongjoong’s face.

A bright smile pulled at the captain's lips as he watched you closely, his hands clasping together on his thighs as everyone sat in nervous silence.

“I dare you…”, Hongjoong met your apprehensive gaze as his darkened once more, Jisung at your back oblivious to the look as he flirted with San, “I dare you to go the rest of the night without your shirt on.”

Cat calls echoed around your head, your eyes widening as you held his gaze once more, his smile dropping into a smirk in a split second as you shook your head.

“That’s unreasonable. I’m not-”, your denial was cut off by the sound of fabric ripping, your eyes darting down at the sudden chill on your torso only to see your shirt in two halves hanging around your hips.

You gasped in shock, one of your favourite shirts ripped so easily but as you looked to the side to see Jongho and Yeosang with similarly hovering hands, you saw red.

“What the fuck?! I get this is a game to you all but I take destroying my possessions very seriously! So if one of you wants to stop and fucking think about how much I enjoy my possessions, that would be great!”

You were fuming. Your fists clenching as your chest heaved, eyes squeezed shut in anger while you tried to keep the tears away. Silence followed your outburst, gazes set on your form as Jisung rubbed your bare shoulders.

“Well? Is anyone gonna say something? Anything to let me know that you aren’t complete assholes?!”

The continued silence made you huff, your eyes snapping open only to make eye contact with Seonghwa who was now kneeling in front of you, eyes darker than the night sky and swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place as his hand shot out to grip your chin between two long fingers.

“I’d watch how you talk to us if you want to make it out later.”, his voice was deeper than you had ever heard it, rivaling Mingi’s as he leaned forward to whisper darkly in your ear, “You won’t be walking out of this house normally anyways, don’t make it worse for yourself, pet.”

He pulled away abruptly, his harsh grip leaving your face as it heated rapidly, his eyes brightening as he took his previous spot. All eyes were on you as you inhaled shakily, your eyes clearing of the anger that was previously swirling in them and instead fogging over in a headspace you never thought Park Seonghwa would be able to induce, even if just slightly as he promised you your demise.

Jisung cleared his throat sharply, smacking his hands down on your shoulders. You jumped in your spot at the touch, your mind miles away from the current situation until that moment as Jisung began rambling off the rules again.

“One minute to hide, as soon as you leave the room, Y/N, it’ll start. Hongjoong you have three to find her. You fail, you spin and swap out. Then it starts over until we either run out of men or our dear hider is found.”, Jisung made eye contact with everyone in the room, making sure they nodded before he slapped you over the head, “Get a move on! We only have so much time.”

You nodded slowly, avoiding the eyes of everyone as you stepped to the edge of the living room, your legs hesitating mid-step as you glanced back at Jisung for reassurance. Seeing his answering nod at your gaze, you sighed lowly and booked it from the room, your steps echoing as you clambered away from the heavy energy. Jisung’s shout for the timer starting had your heart quickening as you looked into every room you could, eyes searching for that perfect spot you knew no one would look in.

You even considered the trash can in the kitchen before you heard low laughs coming from the room across from it, looking up to see San watching you. The darkness in his eyes had you sprinting from any room even remotely close to the living room, your hands shaking as you considered just jumping in the shower or the linen closet and praying that whatever Hongjoong had planned for you was innocent and painless.

You figured that closets, under beds, in the shower or behind curtains would be searched first, followed by behind chairs in corners or large piles of blankets or clothes, your mind racing with thoughts on how you could possibly hide in a way that would ensure you would be free to win the game and have the boys fight it out as they hid amongst themselves. Jisung shouted ‘20 seconds’ into the house, the slight murmur from the group dying down slightly as you froze, head turning around the room frantically.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hide goddamnit!”, you scolded yourself, scanning every last corner of the room before you came up with a plan.

Grabbing pants from the closet, you stuffed them haphazardly with pillows, standing them on shoes behind the curtains before closing them to create a space of darkness, Jisung starting a countdown from 15 seconds as you frantically stuffed another pair of pants to hold with you for your plan.

“3!”

Your hands shook as you closed the door to the room, body pressed against the wall as tightly as possible to minimize the obvious gap when it opened.

“2!”

You held the pants and shoes in one arm, tucked against your chest as you covered your mouth with the waistband.

“1!”

You heard shuffling from downstairs, your eyes closing as you tried to control your breathing.

“Ready or not, here I come~”, Hongjoong’s voice carried up the stairs as he climbed them steadily, “I’ll find you sooner or later, bunny. You can hide, but you can’t run.”

The sharp edge to his words made you clam up, your hands slipping slightly and causing your elbow to knock against the door lightly. You gasped as quietly as you could, free hand clamping down harshly on your mouth as a shadow filled the doorway, the hallway light only silhouetting his figure as he opened the door. He swung it open slowly, his hand splayed on the wood as you waited for it to collide with your body. The hit was far from obvious as he left it to rest just centimeters from your body, his eyes narrowed and predatory as you shook slightly.

The curtain rings did you a favor, sliding slightly to adjust to the positioning and drawing his attention from the other side of the room. His smirk grew noticeably in the darkness of the room, the hallway lights seeming to glint off his canine as he stalked towards the curtains, his eyes trained down on the set of shoes just barely peeking from behind them.

“Oh little bunny. You could’ve at least tried to get away~”, his smug look was wiped from his face as he violently pulled open the curtains, the noise allowing you to slip out of the room as Jisung shouted ‘2 minutes left’.

The door creaked slightly as you snuck out of your spot, Hongjoong freezing as you booked it. A cruel laugh filled the air moments later as the sound of a door slamming shut took over the house. Shivers went down everyone's spines at the following laughter, his words making you stumble as you ran into the library room that was really just a desk and a few bookshelves.

“If I find you, little bunny, you’ll wish you never ran. I’ll make sure of it. You’ll make such a pretty bunny for us, covered in our marks and drenched in our cum.”

He made no indication that he heard the door to the room squeaking but as you slid between the shelves on the wall of the door, your stuffed pants casting a shadow under the desk for him to see as he swung the door open fully, a mocking click of his tongue following, you knew he had heard it.

“Oh bunny. You should’ve been quieter. Maybe then you would have had it easier.”, he stood still in front of the desk, his shoulders lifting with his heavy breaths as he stared down the top of it, “But poor bunny thinks we’re dumb-”

“Hey Captain! 10 seconds!”, Jisung shouted up the stairs.

“Your tricks may have worked, but whoever is next will not be as accepting of your tricks.”

“Game!”, Jisungs shout startled you slightly, Hongjoong leaving the room before he paused.

“Your little games will get you hurt, bunny. I’d be careful.”, he growled his words at you, fingers tapping against the bookshelf you were squished between as he left the room.

You sighed in relief, slipping from your spot to breathe properly for a minute as you gathered your decoy, going back to gather your other one as Jisung shouted up to you that you have some extra time as the bottle spun. Your hands steadied quite quickly with the news, your hands working double time to stuff some more pillows into pants, placing one behind the curtains again, another in the shower, replacing the one under the desk and shoving one under a bed. All that was left was you, Jisung’s call of your official time starting putting the shake back in your hands.

You had one minute to hide again, your decoys calming your mind slightly until you ended up in front of the locked door at the very end of the hall. The red light that was usually on in the room was absent for now as you stared at it, a call of 30 seconds shaking your mind as you turned away from it, stumbling into the closest room you could reach.

You looked around frantically, eyes finding the doors that led to a small balcony quickly. You huffed but gave in, opening the doors with a huff. You could hide behind chairs, the giant potted plant or you could stand on the edge and pray no one walked out. SIghing heavily, you pressed yourself against the wall beside a large plant right by the doors. A faint shout of Jisung’s voice told you that the new seeker was out and searching for you. Opening doors slowly sounded less muffled as he approached the room you were in, his voice muffled while he searched for you. The door to the room opened slower than the rest of the doors, the slow squeak of the hinges making you cringe as you pressed yourself against the cold wall.

“I see you know what you’re doing. I don’t appreciate these little games you think you can get away with, doll. When we find you, you will regret it. Mark my words. If I don’t ensure it, then I know for a fact that the others will when they find out your little mind games. Jisung forbade us from telling the others what happens on our hunts…”, a door slammed open, “So you’re safe with your little decoys until someone doesn’t fall for them.”

The growl his voice took on was bone-chilling, the anger and anticipation behind it making you shiver more violently than the cold breeze had been, your entire body tensing as the patio doors opened one by one.

“You’re lucky my time just ended, doll. A shame we don’t get to play just yet… I’ll have my chance with you and by god will you regret everything.”, his head poked through the doors, making eye contact with you immediately and you whimpered.

The smirk on his face was nothing less than cruel as he watched you shiver, your eyes wide as he watched you until you gasped, fully registering your situation. You shook your head, hands waving in front you as you stepped back slightly.

“J-Jongho no, t-the time ended!”, your voice trembled as he watched you panic, an easy smile replacing his smirk.

“I’m aware, doll. It’s best you come inside for now if you keep planning to hide out here. You’ll get sick.”, he tugged you inside, his large hand warm against your smaller one as the warm air of the house washed over you.

“Thank you…”, you murmured as Jisung shouted for Jongho again, his heat disappearing back downstairs to spin the bottle as you warmed up slowly.

The minute it took for the bottle to land and Jisung to shout up to you felt like ages, your last decoy being replaced under blankets on a bed. Your brain was short-circuiting. You had no idea who was next, it could be Wooyoung, it could be Seonghwa or it could be Yeosang. Either way, you were terrified of those three for the moment as you slotted yourself under the bed the decoy was on. It was a dumb spot and you would be lying your ass off if you said you couldn’t hear past your own heartbeat for a few seconds as footsteps trailed up the stairs, oddly heavy for any of the boys.

The sound of two doors swinging open at once sent alarm bells off in your head again as you picked up on two separate footstep patterns entering rooms opposite your hiding place. You had closed the door to be extra safe, leaving the door to the room of your last hiding place open just to throw them off. Regret filled your panicked being as you watched four shadows extend from under the door to the room you were in.

Of course they sent up two and of course Jisung allowed it. Why wouldn’t he? He was always rooting for your failure in a best friend way, just as he was always trying to get you laid. Maybe that was his plan with this godforsaken game, you thought. The door opened slowly with an extended creek sending shivers down your spine as you indirectly met Wooyoung's dark gaze from under the bed, San’s sharp eyes scanning the room slowly, gaze just as filled with a promise of danger.

Watching San’s arm lift to point subtly at the decoy on the bed, you let out the smallest whimper you could, hands clasped over your mouth and nose to hide your heavy breathing as they approached opposite sides of the beds.

“Oh princess. You could have hid so much better!”, San’s voice was overly cheerful as you watched his foot tap in eight counts.

“Unless our little baby just couldn’t wait to be found~”, Wooyoung's voice matched San’s cheerful tone as he added to the teasing.

The swoosh of blankets covered the noises of shock they no doubt made, the muted thump made your heart race, knowing they wouldn’t leave the blankets on the floor to sweep up the dust of the day. The veined hands gripping the pile confirmed your thoughts, a slight peek of hair nearly exposing your spot as they bent to pull the covers over the decoy. They whispered to each other, the annoyance hidden in their tones now present as they scanned the room once more before they left with heavy steps.

Their posture screamed disappointment but being under the bed stopped you from seeing the small smirk shared between them as Jisung called time moments after your door closed. The silence and heat building in the room suffocated you slowly, your hands fumbling with the door until you were able to breathe in different air, your mind racing at the possibilities of them sending up another group of two, maybe even a group of three if Jisung was feeling like causing more chaos.

The troublemakers next call of your time had you rushing into the bathroom, hands fumbling with the decoy to chuck it outside, no longer caring if it led whoever was next straight to you. You were flustered, scared and becoming increasingly panicked at what the others were planning as they sent away each seeker. A heavy set of footsteps trailed slowly up the stairs, your mind jumping Yunho as the stairs creaked under the weight of whoever was ascending. They had to be larger than Hongjoong or Yeosang, their stature a little too small for you to believe it was one of them making their way up

. Your thoughts came to a sudden stop as you heard a mumble, his deep voice chilling you to the bone as you realized it was probably Mingi who was now searching for you. You weren’t afraid of Mingi for the game, but he was observant when he needed to be and he needed to be, so you were concerned. Your hands trembled as you flattened yourself against the bottom of the tub, the showerhead staring you down threateningly as the sound of his footsteps got closer.

The panic clouding your brain hid the change in heaviness of the steps, the lighter tone of the voice responding to someone you could only pray was downstairs, but hearing no shout from Jisung at that moment, you just knew they had sent up an overly coordinated pair. That, or they walked so slowly up the stairs trying to match their steps that they lost all of their time, Jisung’s voice shouting ‘5 seconds’ confirming your running thoughts as 3 separate voices began complaining. You could recognize the tones of Mingi, Yunho and Yeosang. A shiver traversed your spine as you realized that Yeosang could have found you in that moment, their overly careful planning to walk up the stairs saving you for one last round. Saving you for Seonghwa.

Sitting up in the tub, you couldn’t help but think that maybe leaving you to Seonghwa last was on purpose. The feeling he gave you before, surrounded by the other boys in the circle only spelled danger and dominance. You were terrified of it. The sharp change in the way he acted towards you to how he acted on the regular like a Care Bear murdering a child. Unexpected and completely out of the usual character you were used to. Your mind raced at the hiding spots you could get away with, mentally checking off places you hid decoys or hid for the others until you reached the small office room in your pacing, Jisung’s delayed call of your start time only fueling your fear knowing that Seonghwa had probably asked for his call for your time to start later. Letting you sit in your panic, letting it build slowly for him to make it burst when he began his hunt.

HIs confidence was overwhelming from that one non-verbal cue to you and you knew he would find you, probably paid off Jisung to let the guys tell him where you were so he could narrow down your location. He was already in your head and Jisung had just called your start time, your hands shaking as you closed the office door slowly so the hinges wouldn’t creek as they did when Hongjoong had followed you into the room previously.

Your decoy sat under the desk still and you sighed, deciding to hide between the shelves on the far right side of the room, the desk nearly perfectly parallel to your small hiding spot. Hongjoong’s mocking call of ‘ready or not, here he comes’ did nothing to help your nerves, your hands sweating against the dark wood of the bookshelf in front of you, your ears straining for any sound of Seonghwa that you couldn’t find.

He was deadly silent climbing the stairs, no doors squeaked as they opened (if he opened them) and you were trembling as the door to the office slowly swung open. The large, veined hand on the wood was the only thing giving away his presence until he stepped into the room, eyes fixed on the desk with an intensity you never saw in his eyes. His lips curled at the shadow under the desk, his head tilting as his tongue poked out to run over his plush bottom lip.

“I appreciate your commitment to the decoy under the desk, pet. It’s clever. For dumb little girls who don’t know when to give themselves up.”

His voice was deep again, eyes never leaving the desk as he approached it, hands slamming down the surface. He hung his head slightly, his fluffy hair dropping to hide his eyes from your fearful gaze.

“I’ll give you a choice, pet. You come out of your own free will, walk downstairs with me in that pretty little bra and we go easy on you.”, he scoffed out a small laugh, his hands drawing your attention as he reached into his pocket, a small pocket knife glinting in his pretty hands, “Or~ You don’t. I pull you from that pathetic little hiding spot and drag you down those stairs where you get used by us until you can’t even lift a finger. Jisung was a good little boy…”

The silence made him hum, his hand flipping the knife open and closed over and over with a steady click. He laughed mockingly as the silence carried, your stubbornness amusing him as he tilted his head.

“He was too easy for San to seduce. All it took was a few touches on his thigh, some compliments and he was caving, telling us all your dirty little kinks. Yeah he gave us everything we needed to know. And then he left!”

His cruel laugh made you tear up. Of course Jisung caved to San’s false advances. The fucker probably took the car too, not even leaving you a text to explain how he fed you to the wolves. You were drawn from your angry thoughts towards Jisung by the rough scrape of the blade on the wooden surface of the desk.

“I’ll give you… one minute. You had a minute to hide for us. You get a minute to decide how good you want to be for us.”, He was standing up straight again, his fingers drumming the desk as he put the knife away.

The silence was only broken by his drumming and a slow, mocking countdown to your inevitable demise, his voice deep but airy as he counted to your end. Your heartbeat was rapid in your chest and you could swear if Seonghwa was silent for even a second, he’d hear it pounding against the wood of the bookshelf. Your thoughts overwhelmed your awareness of your actions, your breathing getting a little out of hand with your increasing heart rate as the countdown dropped to ‘5~’ and suddenly stopped.

By the time your mind caught up with the lack of counting and the heat of the darkened eyes suddenly on you, a harsh grip was on your hair, pulling you from your spot roughly. You hadn’t even seen him move, your legs buckling at the sudden motion, causing you to stumble into Seonghwa’s chest, his eyes beating down on the top of your head as you pushed away from him slightly to get some space for your racing thoughts to calm. You had no time to begin to calm yourself as his soft lips brushed your ear teasingly, his voice nothing but a growl as he whispered to you.

“Run for me now, pet. Let’s have some fun~”

Your mind ran blank as he nudged you towards the door, your feet carrying you faster out of the room, your panic leading you to the bathroom once more, closing the door with much more force than necessary. The coldness of the tub stole your breath as you laid down again, the reflection of the showerhead letting you see the door open slowly just as every other door had. The image was too distorted for closer objects, a slight blur showing you Seonghwa’s figure walking further into the room but not allowing you further sight on him. You closed your eyes, trying to calm your breathing and your heart to listen to his movements.

Hearing none, just a slight shuffle you were sure you made, you opened your eyes just in time to see his large hand twisting the cold water tap for the shower. You gasped at his hand, his dark eyes peeking around the curtain just as ice cold water poured down onto you from above, your eyes closing as you shrieked at the cold, hands raising to try and block some of the stream. They were soon tugged down though, a new face hovering above yours as you thrashed about in the tub, heart racing as you glanced up.

———

part 2

there’s just something about cruel seonghwa that gets me going istg

#herarcadewasteland #fem!reader #ateez au #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic #reader insert #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #mentions of skz #han jisung x reader #yandere ateez

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coupsie-daisies · 7 months

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Kinktober '23: Exhibitionism + Voyeurism | Kim Hongjoong + Park Seonghwa

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x GN!Reader x Kim Hongjoong

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), Kinktober 2023

Summary: Hongjoong has the most pathetic obsession with his roommate's partner, and they aren't making it any easier to get over them. Little does he know, they love having his attention just as much as he loves giving it.

WC: 3.7k

Warnings: Reader is described as having a vulva and breasts but uses gender neutral pronouns and terms, Pervy Hongjoong (kinda pervy everyone), Reader wears the boys' clothes but their size isn't described, fingering, oral (reader receiving), cumshot, Seonghwa is kinda mean, exhibitionism and voyeurism obviously, Sir kink, barely mentioned dom/sub dynamics

A/N: If I forgot any warnings, please let me know. I am considering eventually doing a second part to this, let me know if you're interested. Kinktober and general tag lists are open

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

Hongjoong was a filthy little pervert, and he knew it.

He really did try his best not to indulge himself like that, not to get turned on by the most embarrassing things or seek out just a hint of what it would be like to be in the room where it happened, but he had never been very good at shaking that particular vice.

You were Seonghwa's picture perfect partner. You were sweet and charming and always cleaned up after yourself when you stayed over. You would even bring baked goods or make lunch for the boys to take to work, always packing one for Hongjoong when you made Seonghwa's. You were an angel, and Hongjoong felt guiltier than ever about how badly he wanted to defile your innocence.

Seonghwa had been his best friend for years, they'd lived together for nearly a year and a half, and they'd always managed to work well together. But whenever Seonghwa brought you around, Hongjoong was hard to pin down. He was skittish, trying to avoid your gaze for fear that you could see right past his facade, but it only ended with him focusing on how pretty you looked in that little crop top Seonghwa had gotten you for your birthday. He didn't talk to you much, and he half worried that maybe you thought he didn't like you. But it was the opposite. He couldn't hear your sweet voice say his name without popping a boner like a fucking teenager. It was pathetic and he didn't know what to do.

The worst part, though, was that the walls of his and Seonghwa's apartment weren't particularly thick, and every time you and his friend would sleep together, he'd freeze up, pressing close to the wall between his and Seonghwa's rooms to try and hear the pretty sounds you made just a little better. He felt awful about it, listening in on the two of you having sex and jerking off like it was some personal porno, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He never came as hard as he did when you begged for his best friend. He couldn't let it go, even if it left him with a mess to clean up and a red hot burn of humiliation in his chest.

So it was another weekend where you were coming over to spend time with Seonghwa, and Hongjoong cursed himself for not making any plans to get out of the house, because when he got out of the shower, there you were in the kitchen, a grin on your face and a shirt that he could have sworn had belonged to him at one point paired with a cute black skirt that brushed your thighs in the way he wished he could. He blinked a few times, dragging his eyes away from your body.

"I'm making lunch. Are sandwiches okay? You need to go grocery shopping, I swear I don't know how you two survive." You said. He swallowed, suddenly hyper aware that he was only wearing a pair of shorts and a towel around his shoulders to catch the water dripping from his hair. He cleared his throat.

"Right, yeah that's great. Thank you." He said. You nodded, satisfied with his answer.

"Good. Now go dry off, you're gonna drip on the floor." You said, shooing him off with a sweet smile. And he could swear when you turned around that your skirt lifted just enough to show him that there was nothing underneath. He cursed to himself, his eyes rolling back as he felt his dick twitch in his shorts. He had never scurried off to his room faster, and he entirely missed the pleased little giggle that followed his absence.

It was the next day, and part of Hongjoong was devastated that you and Seonghwa seemingly hadn't done anything besides watch youtube, leaving him with his own thoughts and his hand, recalling the times you'd come undone underneath his best friend. But what he didn't expect was to wake up to the sound of you on the other side of the wall just after dawn, the prettiest moans sinking through to his room and stirring him from his sleep.

"Hwa, please," You whined, squirming under his touch. It was so early, and you had barely had time to adjust to being conscious before Seonghwa was tucking himself between your legs, mouth latched onto your clit and two fingers curling into your pulsing heat. "Faster, need more."

Seonghwa chuckled against your pussy, his tongue dipping in to meet his fingers, lapping at the wetness you were leaking onto him. He was so mean sometimes, not that you ever had any real complaints about it. He sat back, his fingers still moving inside of you, just barely brushing the rough patch that edged you closer and closer to orgasm.

When your orgasm washed over you, it was nearly impossible for you to think properly, your hands scrambling for something to grab onto, one catching against the wall, the other digging into Seonghwa's shoulders as you let out the prettiest melody of moans, Seonghwa's name falling off your tongue as he worked his fingers deeper into you. He didn't let up until your legs were trembling against his shoulders and your moans turned into hiccuped whimpers.

"Good job, pretty baby. Put on such a good show," He hummed, crawling up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He dipped towards your ear. "Think he came already, or should we give it another go?"

Hongjoong was shaking, his hands trembling and his stomach covered in his own cum. He never stopped feeling frazzled whenever he listened to his best friend fuck you. And he wasn't sure if you didn't know how thin the walls were or if you really just didn't care who heard you. He used a handful of tissues to clean his seed off his skin, pulling on a pair of sweatpants to cross over into the bathroom.

The last thing he was expecting, however, was for you to come out with nothing but one of Seonghwa's shirts barely covering you, a bright grin on your face when you saw him. He was speechless, his eyes following the plush of your thighs, the way he could almost see your pussy if he could get away with looking a little harder. And he could see the little hickeys that Seonghwa had left on you that weren't there in the morning.

His dick twitched in his pants, and he started to panic, his eyes finding yours again. You were looking at him so sweetly, and it only made him ache more. God, when had he turned into such a fucking mess?

"Were you gonna use the bathroom?" You asked him, hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, pulling it a little higher so the view was almost unmistakable. Hongjoong gulped, looking over at the bathroom, then back at you. He shook his head, although he wasn't sure what else he'd have been doing. But you didn't ask, just grinning at him and brushing your hand over his arm as you passed him, giving a not-so-subtle squeeze to his bicep that was the cherry on top of his arousal, leaving him rock hard with a very noticeable tent in his sweatpants. Fuck.

Come the next day, you hadn't seen a single glimpse of Hongjoong, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed. You were grateful that your boyfriend didn't mind your borderline obsession with his roommate. If anything, he was endlessly indulgent. So when he looked over from where he was playing his game, he knew without asking what had you pouting and sulking on his bed like you were.

"If you want his attention, just go ask him to hang out with you." He said. You whined, moving to lay down.

"Don't wanna. Want him to come play with us. I know he wants to!" You said, pout evident in your voice.

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that you want him too. You know he's not gonna make a move without knowing it won't be a bad one." Seonghwa said with a faux pout to mock yours.

"But how do I do that?"

"Easy."

Seonghwa turned off his game, standing up to knock on the wall next to you. You jumped a little, eyes going wide and your heart rate picking up - from excitement or nerves was anybody's guess. When Hongjoong didn't answer back, Seonghwa knocked again, calling for him to come over for good measure. You squirmed, propping yourself up as Seonghwa shifted to lean over you.

"Gonna let him watch me make you cum?" He asked in your ear, earning a breathy whine. You nodded almost frantically, letting Seonghwa tug your shirt over your head just in time for Hongjoong to open his door. The red haired man stopped in his tracks, his lips parted like he was going to say something, but nothing came out. You turned to look at him, and that sweet smile was back.

"Sorry," He blurted out after a minute, turning to leave, but Seonghwa stopped him.

"Come back, close the door." He said. Hongjoong did as he said like a man possessed, looking shocked by his own actions as he latched the door. "Sit down, get comfortable."

Hongjoong backed up until he could sit down in the gaming chair at Seonghwa's desk, still watching the two of you as his hands clasped in his lap, a desperate attempt to hide the way he was getting hard just from seeing you laid out under his friend like that.

"You like listening to them get fucked, right? I know you always jerk off to it. I see the way you look at them. You want to see it?" Seonghwa asked as if he were just asking what Hongjoong wanted for dinner, and the younger choked a little, a startled cough filling the quiet.

"Joongie, please?" You whined, and his eyes fluttered, taking in the sound of his name on your tongue. "Been wanting you to watch forever. Want you to enjoy me like Hwa does."

"I shouldn't...I don't...understand." He said, eyes flitting between the two of you, and he tried so hard not to focus too much on the exposed skin of your torso. That got much more difficult however when Seonghwa expertly undid your bra and slid it off of you.

"We want you to watch, you want to watch. What is there to think about? Please, Joongie! I wanna see you touch yourself for me. I need it." You reached up, your hands cupping your breasts and kneading them lightly as you pouted at Hongjoong. He dragged a hand through his hair, looking once more at Seonghwa who looked bored of waiting for an answer.

"You can leave if you want, no hard feelings. But I just know they're gonna cum harder than ever with you in here." Seonghwa shrugged, stripping off his shirt to press closer to you, your bare chests pressed together as he captured your lips. The kiss was hungry, teeth clashing and tongues trading saliva until you couldn't breathe, and you could hear the way Hongjoong groaned and hissed at the sight.

You fumbled with Seonghwa's jeans, eventually managing to push them down his hips and out of your way. He sat back, kicking them off and tugging your shorts down at the same time so you were only covered by the cute little black panties you'd picked just for Joong.

Seonghwa tugged at your arm, half manhandling your body as he rearranged the two of you. He pulled you onto his lap, leaning back against the wall and hooking your legs over his so you were entirely spread out facing Hongjoong. You squirmed, feeling yourself growing wetter at the way he flushed, and you swore he almost looked like he'd pass out, staring at the way your panties stuck to your wet folds.

Seonghwa's fingers trailed over your arms, putting on a show to work both you and Hongjoong up, and it was clearly working as you squirmed even more, earning a slap to the outside of your thigh. You jolted and mumbled an apology under your breath.

"Didn't hear you," Seonghwa mused, his hands already going back to caress over your waist, down your stomach, then back up to brush his thumbs over your nipples.

"Said I'm sorry, sir." You repeated louder. He hummed his approval, kissing your shoulder as he tweaked your nipples, tugging and flicking them to full hardness.

"That's what I thought. If you're gonna let him watch, you better be on your best fucking behavior. Not gonna let my friends think I'll let you be a disobedient slut." He warned, and you nodded quickly, gasping when he gave your nipples one last harsh pinch.

Hongjoong was entranced, watching how easily you fell apart under Seonghwa's touch. He'd heard the sounds before, heard his friend's mean words, but seeing the way your eyes rolled back and your hips chased some sort of friction was almost too much. His hands clenched against the fabric of his pants, resisting the urge to touch himself for fear he'd cum the second he did.

"They get so wet whenever you're home." Seonghwa said, teasing his fingers up and down the wet patch between your thighs, his arm resting around your waist to keep you from writhing and rocking into the touch. "Would be jealous if it wasn't so much fun getting you riled up. Can't even look you in the eye, can he baby?"

You shook your head, eyes trained on Hongjoong's face, the pretty shade of pink that dusted his cheeks. He looked up, almost as if he were trying to argue against his friend's taunts. When he met your eye, he shivered, a pretty little moan falling out of his mouth as he finally gave in and palmed himself firmly through his pants.

You looked so desperate, clearly chasing his attention and melting into Seonghwa's chest when you received it, opening your thighs wider and reaching up to toy with one of your nipples. It was for him, he knew that now, and his mind was reeling with every time you'd been putting on a show for him, every time he'd denied it to himself. And fuck he could have been doing this all along? He might never forgive himself.

"Should we take off their panties? Do you wanna see me open them up?" Seonghwa asked, dipping one lithe finger under the edge of your panties, the tip of it brushing near enough to your clit to make you jolt, sending pleading looks to Hongjoong. The latter nodded frantically, those wide, blown out eyes turning to Seonghwa who seemed just as affected as you were if the bulge pressing against your ass was anything to go off of.

With his friend's agreement, Seonghwa let go of your waist, helping you shimmy the fabric down your hips and discarding them in Hongjoong's direction. They landed just in front of his feet, and he couldn't help but stare at them as if he'd been gifted a trophy from the gods, one he'd cherish until the day his mortal soul was escorted to the afterlife.

"Look at me, Joongie," You said, and you fully giggled when his head snapped up at the order. His eyes found yours first, awaiting some sort of guidance. Then down, down, down across the planes and dips and swells of your body to where Seonghwa was lazily dragging a finger through your wetness. He spread it up, circled widely around your clit before gliding back down.

Hongjoong choked, his hips bucking against his hand. He was dead, he had to be. This wasn't fucking possible. You looked like a painting, spread out, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you beared Seonghwa's teasing.

"Look how pretty they look, fucking dripping all over my lap just from being watched." Seonghwa mumbled, more to himself than to either one of you. His fingers finally landed against your clit, rubbing firm, slow figure eights. You leaned your head back, putting the clear expanse of your throat on display.

"Faster, sir, please." You hissed out, and Hongjoong could see the way that your thighs tensed and fluttered against the feeling, trying so hard not to do anything punishable.

"Do you deserve it? Being such a filthy slut for my best friend. Not a very good toy, can't even stay loyal. But sharing is caring, I suppose." He mused, and you nearly cursed his dramatics before his touch was speeding up.

You purred, arching so perfectly against him that he couldn't resist moving his hand lower, sliding two fingers into you without even a little resistance. You cried out, louder than Hongjoong had ever heard you.

"Please. Need more, need to be full. I wanna show him. Show him I can take it, I can be good." You were babbling, high off the feeling of having both men's attention on you. You'd been waiting for it so long that you couldn't even try and find some shame within yourself. Only pride burned through your veins. Pride at having won Seonghwa over, pride at having gotten Hongjoong to finally give you the attention you'd craved. Pride at not having cum just from the knowledge that he wanted you as bad as you wanted him.

"Greedy." Seonghwa pulled his fingers out, slapping them against your clit a few times before filling you with them again. You sobbed out a broken sound of pleasure, and Hongjoong hissed in return. He fumbled, pushing at his pants until they were low enough for him to pull his dick out.

You whined at the sight, his pretty cock, sort of long and thin with a vein running up the underside that simply had your mouth watering, and his hand making slow, almost hesitant pulls along the length. Your walls fluttered around Seonghwa's fingers, sucking him in deeper in a desperate attempt to feel full enough. He chuckled, curling his fingers to press against the rough patch inside of you. Your hips bucked, and you made the most pathetic sound of the day. Hongjoong's eyes went wide, and he couldn't settle on where to look; Your blissed out face, your heaving chest, or the way his friend's fingers were fucking into you with carefully practiced technique, the way he wished his fingers were.

"Like what you see?" Seonghwa asked upon catching Hongjoong's attention on your pussy spreading so easily for his fingers. Hongjoong nodded. "Just wait till you see them cum. Might even let you taste, if you want. It's best from the source."

You were gone then, the thought of Hongjoong's tongue on you edging you closer and closer to drenching your boyfriend's fingers in cum, and he could tell. A strong hand found your hip, pulling you firmly back into place, and his fingers curled expertly against your g-spot. You whined and whimpered, incoherent begging filling the room.

"Please. Need to cum, please 'Hwa. I've been so good, always so good. Just wanna show him how good you make me feel, please." You babbled, gripping his forearm even as he continued abusing your most sensitive spots. You could hear how wet you were, the slick sounds turning you on even more desperately. The feeling of your juices on your thighs were like ice on your overheated skin.

"You're asking the wrong person, baby. Is this how we entertain our guests?" He asked. You shook your head, mumbling out a sweet 'nuh-uh'.

"Joong, please. You wanna see, right? Want me to cum for you? Please, Joongie, I need it. 'M so close, can't hold it. Please, let me cum. I wanna cum, I want you to see." You were whining, words slurring together as you tried your best to hang on to the edge with Seonghwa's thumb brushing your clit ever so slightly and his fingertips digging into your hip in the perfect way you loved.

"Please, want you to cum. Cum for me," Hongjoong blurted out, his hips chasing after each stroke of his hand over his cock, precum leaking from his tip and easing the harsh tugs he was giving himself. He was close too, you could see it in the way his chest heaved up and down, the way his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue dragged over his bottom lip again and again.

You couldn't deny such a lovely request. Your orgasm hit you like a train, your eyes rolling into your head and your thighs trying so hard to clench shut that Seonghwa had to grab you to keep you from tumbling off his lap altogether. You gasped, trying to draw back in the air that had been squeezed out of your lungs in a desperate cry. Your blood was rushing in your ears, and you only came back to reality at the sound of Hongjoong's groans.

He stared at the way your cum dripped out of you, creamy wetness running down the curve of your ass to pool in his best friend's lap. You shivered with the aftershocks of the pleasure, your eyes half lidded and your breath coming fast. He burned the image into his mind as he fucked up into his hand, his own orgasm rushing over him. His cum poured out of him, thick and seemingly never ending as it dripped down his hand, each attempt to ride out the bliss just spreading his spend over the length of his cock.

You wiggled, barely able to stand on weakened thighs as you stood up. You took the few tentative steps over to where Hongjoong was sitting, resting your hands on his thighs and sinking down to your knees. You looked up at him with that same smile, those same almost-innocent eyes as you nestled between his spread thighs.

"Can I taste?" You asked, fingers inching up his legs towards his still rock hard, cum smeared dick.Fuck, he was a dead man.

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honeyhotteoks · 2 years

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his for the night (p.sh)

summary: you wear something special for seonghwa and he notices. it turns out getting ready for a night out together isn't going to speed things up at all.

note: 18+ content, minors DNI. this is a one-shot, but is actually a deleted scene from my longer fic into the aurora. an established ot8 x reader relationship is alluded to here. this would have been a far future chapter, but no longer really fit in my outline, i just don't believe in gatekeeping smut ♡

warnings: dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, fem!reader, established ot8 x reader, mirror sex, rough sex, mention of the color system, fingering, unprotected sex, verbal instruction, light degredation, use of sir, mocking the reader, high heels, bathrooms, cream pie and implied breeding kink, hot af seonghwa can't take his hands off reader in her new dress smut-a-thon

pairings: seonghwa x reader

genre: straight up smut, barely any plot this time

word count: 4.5K

my masterlist

Seonghwa leans against his side of the upstairs bathroom sink to get a little closer to the mirror and sprays some hairspray on his coiffed black hair, securing it in place for the night out. You watch him, leaning on the wall of the bathroom and smiling at the way he studies his reflection and finalizes his appearance with sure, delicate touches.

He throws a glance at you in the mirror, “What?”

“Mm,” you shake your head, “nothing, you just look handsome.”

His mouth quirks up into a smile, “Yeah?”

You narrow your eyes playfully, “You know you do.”

He turns back to regard himself again, straightening and smoothing his shirt, “you should hurry, we’re leaving soon.”

You had just finished your makeup and hair, but you are still wearing a robe wrapped around you. “I’ll be quick,” you tell him and step back out into the hall to hurry down the steps to your bedroom. The dress you are going to wear tonight is already laid out on the bed, the small handbag you’re taking already packed and ready to go next to it. The new heels you purchased sit neatly in their open box, ready to be worn.

It won’t take you long to get ready since you had already done most of it, so in a few minutes you have the dress wrapped around you, jewelry added, and the heels in hand to head back upstairs and meet Seonghwa. It’s the first time you and some of the boys are heading out together in public, the opening of a new club in Gangnam a perfect excuse to be in public with them since several people from KQ are going too, including some of the artists and stylists you had become friends with over the past few months. While Hongjoong and Jongho can’t come, and Yeosang is busy with a schedule, the rest of the boys are getting ready to spend a night in the VIP section.

You check your appearance in the mirror downstairs, and the dress is definitely out of your normal comfort zone, not to mention your normal price range. It’s a fitted wrap dress in midnight blue with thin straps and a deep dip in both the front and back revealing more skin that you’re used to. The length is more generous, a midi cut that falls below your knee, but the wrap cut allows for a slit that parts over your right leg when you walk, something you are sure will get their attention. Particularly Seonghwa.

As you head back towards the staircase you bump into Mingi who’s half dressed, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. He lets out a low, surprised noise, “y/n,” he clears his throat, “you look…”

“Is it too much?” you check, turning back towards him and letting him get a full look.

“Definitely not,” he smirks, his eyes raking over you slowly, the desired effect you wanted when buying something like this, “but you’ll make it hard to keep our hands off you.”

A warm thrill runs through you, “Good,”

He laughs, full throated, and shakes his head, “You’re no fair.”

You toss him a grin and wave him off, heading back up the steps towards the bathroom and you hear Mingi walk back towards his room, his laugh echoing in the hall. If that was Mingi’s reaction, you are desperate for Seonghwa’s. You know he favors this color on you, and a deep-seated part of you wants to torture him for the night.

At the top of the landing, you hear Seonghwa’s voice through the wall, “y/n, if that’s you, can you grab my jacket?”

A black jacket is carefully laid across his made bed, and you pick it up with your free hand before heading back to the bathroom to hand it off. “This one?” You ask, rounding the corner.

You walk forwards, hand outstretched with the jacket and pause in front of the other sink. He turns towards you, his lips parting and you watch as he looks you over, carefully, and slowly from head to toe. You can’t help the self-satisfied smirk that must cross your lips, “Seonghwa, this one?” you ask again.

“Uh, yeah, yes.” He takes it and shrugs it on, smoothing down the sleeves and adjusting his cuffs.

You rest the new heels on the counter, still perfectly clean from never having been worn, and reach for your tube of lipstick. Leaning forwards, you uncap the tube and move to apply a thin coat of the warm color, glancing to Seonghwa in the mirror, looking to see if you’re getting any real reaction out of him.

You never used to be so confident with your body, but after months of living with them and sharing yourself completely, there’s no reason to be shy anymore or to pretend you don’t see the effect that you have on them. The dress hugs your soft curves perfectly without being lewdly tight, something you know should get his attention, but every glance you throw at him in the mirror says he hasn’t noticed. Aside from the first moment he regarded you, it seems that he’s recovered, his focus completely back on finishing his own look and getting ready to leave.

A feeling of disappointment creeps into you, and you finish applying your lipstick and watch as he moves to leave the room without so much as another glance at you. Your eyes flick downwards at yourself, you had been so sure he would like it, and now you’re feeling a little unsure about the night out. With a sigh, you smooth your hands along the front of you dress and close your eyes, giving yourself a little internal pep talk.

The sound of the bathroom door closing snaps you out of it, and you open your eyes. For a split second you think he’s left you alone in the bathroom, but when you feel the press of his warm body behind you, crowding you into the countertop, you realize you were completely wrong about his reaction.

“Hwa?” you look up and catch his eyes, blown wide with desire, though the rest of his face is a cool mask of control.

“Shh,” he shakes his head, and he hasn’t even really touched you yet, but you can feel a rush of desire course through you. You stay quiet, patiently waiting for him to continue. “Did you really think you could just come up here like that?”

“Like what?” you ask, playfully innocent.

“Look at yourself,” he says, but when your eyes stay locked on his in the mirror you watch his jaw set, a familiar expression of dominance that you’ve come to seek out passing over his features. He reaches around you, fingers deftly catching either side of your jaw and moving your head to force your gaze forwards, “I said, look at yourself.”

“Seonghwa,” you murmur, your palms pressing flat against the cold countertop as you comply.

You watch in the mirror as he reaches around with his other hand to dip into the slit of your skirt, hiking some of the fabric up around your hips so that his hand has unfettered access to you through the part in the skirt. He pulls you back firmly, flush against chest so that your hands can no longer reach the countertop and you find yourself craning on tip toe.

“We don’t,” you stutter as he wastes no time, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your panties and slipping between your folds, “we don’t have time now, we’ll be late,”

He works you anyways, rolling his middle finger over your clit without preamble, the fingers on your jaw tightening at your words. “So, we’ll be late,” he says, leaning his face in closer to murmur in the hollow of your ear, his breath warm against your buzzing skin, “if you thought I wasn’t going to immediately fuck you in this dress, you were sorely mistaken.”

He continues to work your clit, circling his fingers in just the way you like, and you pant out a moan, your eyes fluttering closed and your head dipping back against his shoulder.

He bumps you forwards immediately with a small shift of his arm and the fingers on your jaw pull you back up, this time angling your gaze lower in the mirror. “No,” he says, “I want you to watch.”

A breathy whine leaves you at his words and you watch the rhythm of his hand that has your skirt held to either side, fingers steadily bobbing back and forth under the thin fabric of your panties. You reach behind you for something to hang onto as heat starts to bubble in your core, one hand finding purchase on his hip and the other clutching his forearm. Seonghwa presses forwards with his hips, and you feel his hardened length against your backside, clearly straining against his trousers.

His left foot shifts between yours, and he eases your legs apart wider before changing the angle of his hand and driving two fingers up inside you. The feeling catches you breathless and you groan against him, your nails digging into his arm as you try to hold your balance.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his head against yours and you realize he’s watching his own movements in the mirror, his eyes locked on his hand between your thighs.

“Hwa,” you moan as his fingers press up particularly deep, curling inside you with the heel of his hand connecting with your clit on each thrust.

“Look at the mess you’re making,” Seonghwa groans, his hips rutting against you softly to get some friction and much needed relief.

“Seonghwa,” you manage, “I need you, please,”

“Hush,” he shakes his head, and the hand that braces your jaw slips down your chest, roughly pulling down one of the straps of your dress to expose your breast. You don’t need a bra with this dress, and he groans when he realizes it, moving to pull down your other strap and expose both of your breasts, your nipples painfully hardened into peaks already.

You can’t help the sounds that stutter out of you as he firmly palms your breast, his hand picking up the pace and pushing a third finger inside of you. Your hand slips to fist at the side of his jacket, your legs visibly shaking as the knot of pleasure tightens in your core. You spare one glance up and see that he’s completely focused on watching you, his mouth hanging open as he frantically works you to your release, and the sight of it brings you higher, closer.

You scramble against him, your legs caving, and he keeps you pulled tight against himself, curling over you to maintain the pace and intensity. He groans low in your ear, “Poor baby,” his hand thrusts up to punctuate his words, his teeth catching your earlobe softly, “can’t you take it?”

“I’m so,” you babble, a breath away, “I’m close, I can’t,”

His lips leave your ear, and he roughly pulls you up against his chest again. He pistons his fingers with precision, the pad of his middle finger consistently stoking down against the right spot inside you. “Look at me,” he commands.

Your body melts at the words, and when your eyes meet his, his gaze hungry and determined, the tight coiling knot inside you snaps apart. You cry out against him, your legs trembling and unable to support your own weight through the sudden crashing of your orgasm. He tips you backwards against his chest to support you, his hand still working hard and fast inside you as you come, the sound wet and hurried as you pant against him.

His fingers finally slow, easing slowly now to relax you against him through the final shudders of your release. Seonghwa’s fingers slip out of you slowly, and he rests his warm hand over you completely to cup your sex as you recover your breath, your feet finding purchase again on the floor and your fingers relaxing against him.

His arms loosen then, and he eases you forwards until you can hold yourself against the sink before he backs away completely, moving to his own and flicking on the faucet to wash his hands.

You’re catching your breath, collapsed against the countertop, the cold granite against your still exposed breasts. You haven’t even moved to try and fix your dress and assess your hair when he crosses behind you and picks up your new heels from their place next to you on the counter.

“Put these on,” he says, crouching and placing the heels between your feet.

“What?” you blink hard, looking up at him in the mirror.

“Come on,” he taps your hip firmly, “put them on.”

“What are you,” you start to say but his hard gaze in the mirror stops the words in your throat.

“I said put them on, I won’t ask again.” His voice is firm, and he holds your hips steady as you comply and slip your feet into the heels, your legs still shaking.

You keep your mouth shut but focus on holding yourself up hands planted flat on the counter, watching in the mirror as he unbuttons his suit trousers and slips the zipper down. He pauses for just a moment and meets your eyes, “Color?”

“Green,” you assure him, “very green.”

His expression hardens again, and a shiver of anticipation runs up your spine, the cool air against your exposed skin making your fingers tense against the granite. The minute he’s sure you’re ready for more, he slips back inside his firm persona and his hands are back on you.

Seonghwa flips your dress up over your hips, a warm hand in the center of your back between your shoulder blades pushing you quickly downwards and you crash forwards to brace against the hard counter with your forearms. You can’t see him as easily now, but you feel it when his fingers hook under either side of your underwear and pull them down harshly. His hand dips between your thighs and separates your legs further, leaving your underwear stretched and straining around your calves.

He angles your hips up with his palms against your sides, one sliding across you to press on your lower back and you eagerly comply, arching deeply and presenting yourself to him. You hear his buckle and the shifting of fabric, and he sinks the length of his cock into you without pause, his hips fully flush with yours and his hands gripping your hips in a bruising grip. The sudden intrusion has you thrust forwards further, the stretch immediate and you whine against your arms, your legs locking up and hips kicking back into his.

Seonghwa lets out a groan and you collapse further on the counter, your breasts pressed down hard now onto the cool granite and your forehead dropping to rest against the back of your hands. He thrusts once, hard, and you choke out a moan, the feeling of him at this angle stretching you completely and seating his cock deeply inside you. Your hips are pressed tightly against the hard lip of the counter and you know that when this is all said and done you’ll have bruises.

“Fuck,” he chokes, thrusting again, “you look so good like this, like you were made for me,”

His words make you keen, arching your back further and pressing back against his thrusts. Your eyes are pressed shut as he drives into you, holding as steady as you can while he stretches your legs as wide as they can go.

“I’m going to fuck you so full,” he groans, and you feel him lean over you to change the angle of his cock, his hips frantic.

“God, Hwa,” you choke, stuttering at his words and thrusting back against him to increase the friction, your belly tight with anticipation.

“Fuck this,” he pants, and one of his hands fists into your hair, yanking you up quickly to change the position and forcing you to brace yourself with one hand against the counter and another against the mirror in front of you. “Eyes up,” he directs, “watch me.”

“Yes,” you choke, “yes, yes,”

“Yes what?” he pulls back, stopping his movements completely, now just the head of his cock resting inside of you.

Your head is swimming, the lack of friction and pressure inside you has you delirious, searching through the fog in your brain for anything to say. One hand tightens in your hair, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip tightly.

“Yes, what?” he repeats again, shaking you.

The desperation you feel brings the words he’s looking for up to the surface in a moment of perfect clarity – “Yes, sir,” you whine.

“Good girl.” He smiles, his tongue pressed up against his teeth, and he pushes back into you with force.

The fill is immediate and leaves you panting, you’ve never seen an expression like this on your own face, and you barely recognize yourself as he drives into you, making you a moaning mess of yourself.

“On me,” he says angling your head almost painfully and your eyes flick up from yourself to watch him.

“Yes, sir,” you repeat, knowing what he needs to hear.

A groan passes through his lips, sweat across his brow as he pumps his hips. His hair is mussed now, his jacket open and his shirt pushed up for better access. His eyes are fixed on you, his mouth hanging open wide as he works, his gaze coasting from your face to your exposed breasts that bounce in time with every thrust. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you, your shaking legs, your sweat slick palms struggling for solid purchase against the glass of the mirror.

You’re close to coming apart again, you can feel it in the rush of heat that runs from your chest to your core, and you watch him smile at the hot blush that erupts across your chest and up your cheeks. He smiles, “Are you close, sweet girl?”

You stutter out a response, trying to nod despite the way his hand in your hair holds you in place.

He thrusts up hard, “Ask nicely,”

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” you scramble against him, straining and trying to steady, one of your heels dropping off your foot and clattering onto the tile floor.

“Come on,” he presses a hard kiss against your temple, his breath hot on your cheek, “I know you can do it, I know you want it,”

“Please,” your hand slides on the counter.

He nods, but you know it’s not enough. You’re seconds away from coming, the steady drag of his cock against your walls just what you need and you’re clenching hard to keep from coming without permission, tears gathering in your eyes as you try to form the words.

“Please,” you finally pant, “please, may I come?”

“Please, who?” he prompts you and you whine out the corrected response – “Please, sir let me come?”

He grins and bites his lip, the pace in his hips stuttering and you know he’s close too. “Come,” he commands, and you break against him, a desperate cry erupting from your chest and a rush of wet warmth between your thighs as you work frantically back against his cock to prolong the feeling washing over you.

Your hand against the mirror slips and you fall forwards, but Seonghwa’s sure hands move to grip you, catching your upper arms so he can continue to work his hips steadily, chasing his finish.

You’re raw and sore, but desperate for him, and you meet his eyes in the mirror, “Seonghwa, please will you come inside me? Fill me up, I need you to fill me up,” you beg him, limp, boneless, and stumbling over your words, but knowing just what will get him there.

“Ah, God,” his pace breaks, frantic and hurried without a clear rhythm and you know he’s a breath away. He collapses down against you, pressing you into the countertop and falling against your back, catching your cheek in his palm to keep your head from connecting with the granite. You can’t make out everything he groans and pants into your back, but he picks up his head to watch you beneath him in the mirror once more, “So full, and all mine, all fucking mine,”

Your muscles clench around him in response and he stutters, releasing hot and hard inside you. He lays his head between your shoulder blades, gripping you close while he recovers. You’re still struggling to catch your breath when he presses a soothing kiss to your back and raises off you, slipping his cock out and back into his suit trousers. You can hear him zipping up and connecting his belt buckle again, and you start to ease yourself up onto your forearms.

“Come here, my love,” his soft hands take your shoulders, helping you stand and gently pulling the straps of your dress up to cover you again. Your first step is a stumbling one, and he lifts you with ease to turn you and sit you down on the counter, you dress still rucked up around your hips and the cold a light shock against your overly sensitive skin.

He moves his fingers into your hair, loosening the tangles there and swipes his thumbs under your eyes softly to smooth away the smudged mascara.

“Fuck, Hwa,” you sigh, coming back to yourself moment by moment, “I’m going to have to get ready all over again.”

“Don’t,” he says quickly, and you furrow your brow in confusion. He leans in to kiss you, his tongue dipping into your mouth and dragging against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, before he leans back. His hands coast up your thighs soothingly, “You look good, besides…” he slips his hand between your thighs and two fingers catch the overflow of his release and press it back into your fluttering entrance, “I want you to keep some of me with you tonight,”

A shuddering breath leaves you as he works his fingers in again with no aim to stimulate you again. You reach down and catch his wrist to stop his ministrations and just hold him against you, two of his fingers resting still inside you. “Okay,” you murmur, leaning forward to catch his lips against yours again, “whatever you want. I’m yours tonight,”

“Mm,” he sighs against your lips, “was this dress for me too?”

You nod against him, “All for you.”

“You’re so perfect,” he breathes against you.

You smile, and you’re about to say more but a shout from downstairs announcing that you’re late breaks you both into a fit of laughter. “How wrecked do I look really?” you ask him as he slips his fingers out of you and helps you stand, pulling your underwear back up for you and smoothing your dress down.

“You look good,” he brushes it off, looking you over before heading for the sinks again to fix himself up, “but they’re still going to know anyways. You are not the quietest.”

“Seonghwa, I swear,” you groan, turning and catching a glimpse of your face in the mirror. Fucked out is the only way to describe it and you sigh into your hands.

“Be quick,” he nudges you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he opens the bathroom door to jog downstairs and calm the rest of the guys down.

You get yourself back together as quickly as you can, fixing your dress back into place and quickly working as much magic as you can with fresh lipstick and some extra concealer. On your way down the steps, you can hear them talking.

“We’re late!” Wooyoung complains, “you made us late.”

You hear Seonghwa’s terse sigh, but it’s Mingi who jumps in, “In his defense, you haven’t seen her in this dress yet. It’ll be a miracle if any of us make it out of the house.”

You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter and when you hit the landing and see Wooyoung, San, and Yunho turn to you, your slightly too expensive dress purchase suddenly feels like it paid for itself. Wooyoung whistles and claps a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder, “Never mind, hyung. Got it.”

Seonghwa blushes and slaps his hand away, “Okay, let’s go.”

San clears his throat, “You look beautiful, y/n,”

“Thank you, Sannie,” you murmur back, “sorry we’re late,”

San shakes his head and smiles, moving to pull on his coat and walk to the car with Wooyoung. Mingi’s already heading out the door, but he tosses you a conspiratorial raised eyebrow and you roll your eyes. Yunho shifts and rubs a hand across the back of his neck, chuckling lowly, “He’s right, but you look like trouble. I like it,”

“Sounds about right for a club, I think,” you smile and Yunho grins, grabbing your coat off the rack by the door and moving to drop it over your shoulders.

He passes a hand across your back softly, dropping a kiss against your hair, before grabbing his own coat and following Mingi out of the door, “Tonight should be fun!” he calls over his shoulder to you.

You’re left with Seonghwa, and he crosses the room to cup your cheek once more and press a soft kiss to your mouth. “You look good,” he assures you, reading your mind.

He holds your arm steady when you go to slip your heels back on, and once you’re both ready you follow the others out to the garage. Seonghwa tucks you under his arm as you walk across the garage to the car, kissing your temple, his other hand smoothing across your stomach gently, just once. “I really do love this dress,”

“I’ll wear it for you more often,” you nudge him softly.

“You better,”

Yunho’s voice calls across the garage, and you see him standing on the opposite side of the car, leaning against the roof in the open doorway, “There’s not enough seats, you’re going to have to sit on someone’s lap,”

You laugh and shake your head, “Okay…”

“You’re going to have to pick one of us,” Wooyoung teases, popping his head through the open window on his side of the car.

You feel Seonghwa’s hand tighten on your shoulder, just a little, not wanting to lose you for the night just yet.

“Sorry,” you call over to them, resting a hand on Seonghwa’s chest, “but Hwa’s got dibs for the night,”

Wooyoung groans, and you hear him say something to San, though you can’t quite make out the words. Yunho grins and shakes his head, “Fine, but I want one dance later,”

“One dance,” you agree, and Yunho disappears into the car.

“Dibs, hmm?” Seonghwa nudges you with his hip.

“I said I’m yours tonight,” you twist in his arms and kiss his cheek, “I meant it.”

#seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa #seonghwa fic #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez self insert #ateez ff #ot8 x reader #into the aurora deleted scene

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barnesbabee · 2 years

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𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑'𝖘 𝕶𝖎𝖘𝖘 - 𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ'ꜱ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ - ɴᴇxᴛ

ATEEZ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

You woke up with a gasp, startled and scared as per usual, cursing the nightmare that insisted on coming back. You stood up from your bed as you rubbed your thighs which were sore for some reason, confused as to why you were still in yesterday's clothes, but then again, you were so tired all the time that nothing surprised you anymore.

You were shocked to find, however, shards of glass and pieces of pottery scattered on the floor, along with missing decorations in your house. Your head was unable to put 2 and 2 together at first. The initial reaction was to assume you were still dreaming, a dream within a dream. The second was to assume that somehow the destruction was a result of the dream, that somehow the effects of your imagination had been brought to real life. It was only after these unlikely scenarios that you rationalized: it was real. The man, the wings, the feeling of fear enveloping your body...

"What the fuck?" You calmly asked yourself as you scanned the apartment.

You had no idea how to react, what would even be an acceptable reaction to that? Fear, confusion, anger, frustration, excitement?... It was all bottled up inside of you in a big, tiring ball of emotions that you wanted to run away from.

At least you got some sleep... But the chaos left in your mind made you question if it was even worth it.

"Well, it has to be cleaned up either way..."

You removed your uncomfortable suit pants and began picking up the shattered pieces on the floor and fixing whatever was put out of place by the man with the wings.

As you bent down to reach a shard of glass that was under the couch, your hand touched something soft. Your first reaction was to shriek and retrieve your hand immediately, afraid it was a rat or something as disgusting. However, when you took your phone's flashlight out and carefully pointed it at the 'rodent' in question, you saw a black, flat object.

You made a 'hm?' sound as you reached to pick it up, and when your hand grabbed it, a strong gust of wind caused you to fall back, holding what you found to be a long, silky, black feather.

"Seems you've found something that belongs to me."

You turned your head to find the owner of the familiar voice and recognized him as the man with the wings. You knew his name was Seonghwa, but 'man with the wings' was what came to your head first most of the time.

You stood up with a groan, as your thighs were still giving you a hard time, and looked at him.

"You don't have your friends?" You asked, waving the feather in his face, referring to his wings.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrist, trying t get the feather back, but you were quick to snatch it with your other hand and hide it behind your back.

"I have them, they're just not out."

"What are you? Why are you here? Why are you following me? Am I dying?"

You were past the point of being scared, you assumed that he had been following you ever since the nightmares appeared, and if he wanted to kill you he wouldn't done so earlier. But you were, however, anxious. What did his presence mean?

"That doesn't concern you. I'm not following you. No, you're not dying."

He seemed to be getting annoyed at the questions, but in reality, when you touched the feather you he was instantly called to your side, and he was unprepared. He couldn't let his fascination for you show, even if it was evident the night before.

"You didn't answer my first question, what are you?"

Seonghwa crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"How many people-looking things with wings do you know of."

You ran the feather between your fingers, making Seonghwa shiver.

"Are you an... angel?" You asked, unsure if the answer was stupid, or painfully obvious.

"That I am."

You stared at him, your eyes as empty and devoid of feeling as the rest of your body.

Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow.

"I thought you'd be more... surprised? Shocked? Scared? Anything."

"I'm just tired. I don't know if you things feel tired but sometimes humans are so tired and worn out that feelings get stuck and don't come out. Plus I can't handle the implications of what it means that angels are real and one is standing in front of me."

You took a break from your little human lesson and looked at the feather.

"Wait, it's black." You paused, and held it up between you and him, vertically "Does this mean you're evil? Are you an evil angel?"

"No, it just means I fucked up. My wings were white and had these brown parts I always kinda hated, so in a way, I'm not mad because they look a lot better."

"I have so many questions that I need to be answered..."

Seonghwa took the liberty of sitting on your couch.

"Then ask them. I owe you that much."

You sat down on the opposite end of the couch, still wary of his presence.

"Please explain the whole situation."

"I can't explain everything, but it comes down to the fact that I've been around for longer than the nightmares started. They started because I interacted with you, and so we bonded. The bond between a human and a celestial being comes with a curse, mine has to do with my angelical form, in humans, it affects them in different ways, yours are nightmares I guess..."

"Wait but I only interacted with you yesterday, the nightmares have been going on for a long time."

"You only interacted with me yesterday that you know of. One day you were getting off work and a man killed you. He stabbed you several times in an alley and I... I brought you back to life."

"The scars on my back! That's what they were! God, it's so good to finally understand what has been happening to me, I thought I was going insane. But wait, why were you in a bar then? Shouldn't you be doing angel things?"

"Yes, I should, but I'm sort of... on the run. Angels aren't allowed to meddle in human lives, only the ones assigned to do so. And I don't mean guardian angels, I mean the stuff Gabriel does, for example. But I meddled and I'm pretty sure I made a couple beings mad at me, so I'm laying low."

"So you broke the rules to save me? Why?"

"Didn't I try to fuck you yesterday?"

You blushed, remembering how eager you were the previous night.

"So what? An angel has a crush on me?"

"I don't know, what is a crush?"

"Like, when you have small feelings for someone. When you can't stop thinking about them and-"

"My feelings are not small. I broke the rules of Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory to spare your human life which is meaningless to us."

"Fair enough... So are you like, in love?"

"I don't think you could describe my attraction to you in human feelings. These things have happened before, it doesn't happen often. It doesn't turn out well for either parties, so I just watched from afar, but I couldn't let you die. I planned on continuing to watch from afar but I selfishly let my own wishes guide me and I let you bring me back here instead of disappearing, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

And just like that, he disappeared again, and the same gust of wind that had brought him back, took him away.

Taglist: @seiiblue @potaeto-writes-on-wp (DM or send an Ask if you want to be added)

#seonghwa #seonghwa smut #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanficiont #ateez fic #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa reader insert #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa scenario #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fic #ateez smut #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #kpop reader insert

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jk97 · 2 months

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Unprofessional Attraction | TWO

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 18.2K ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, halloween, drinking alcohol, perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, pet names (angel, pretty, smart girl, etc), pinch of sexting and unintentional phone sex, office head (giving and receiving), fingering, praise, unprotected sex, riding, jealousy, blackmail, good ol' porn with plot ♡ A/N - my goodness thank you for 1000+ notes ♡ sorry it's so long but I appreciate the patience!! the school semester timeline in this is kinda unrealistic but ignore that, fictional romance has no bounds LOL. This might end up 4 parts instead of 3, we'll see what my brain figures out.

Part 1 | Part 2 | ?

“I’m starting to think you’re kidnapping me.”

For the past 30 minutes into this drive, something Yunho had initially assured you wouldn’t take long, you’ve been alternating between staring out of the window at your surroundings slowly becoming unfamiliar and the small bouquet of flowers sitting in your lap. Even as you gaze at him inquisitively, he doesn’t move his attention away from the road. When he doesn't answer for longer than what you deem appropriate, your brows flicker up in amusement. That gets his attention.

“Oh, right, that’s a bad thing,” he clears his throat dramatically, though you know he’s just poking fun at your impatience, “I suppose I could ruin the surprise if you’re getting restless.”

“No, I’m not! I’m just very curious why it’s so far away,” you stop him quickly. That’s absolutely a reasonable question and Yunho decides to give you the answer.

“I know I said I wanted to be discreet but…” he pauses and sighs, shaking his head, “I just can’t. Figured the next best thing would be to just leave our area for the day and do something fun around strangers instead. I just want us to be comfortable, I guess.”

“You really weren’t kidding about being thoughtful, huh?” You hum softly, hand finding his own sitting on the gear shift. He allows you to thread his fingers between yours without hesitation.

“I meant everything I said, yes.”

“I guess I can be patient then,” you feign annoyance, rolling your eyes.

The earnest laugh that your silliness evokes from him fills the car and makes the atmosphere even warmer than before. The gift of flowers had already charmed you upon getting into his car, so you can’t imagine that there’s something even better waiting for you at the end of the drive. As much as you’d love to know what this man had settled on within the last few days, you allow yourself to indulge in the feeling of being whisked away and surprised instead. In the meantime, you busy yourself again by humming to his radio and continuing to survey your surroundings passing by quickly the further you drive.

There are many things Yunho is good at and he’s a very intelligent man, but cooking is just not one of those things. Because of this, he generally eats out instead of bothering with making food. This is particularly one of the reasons why he never had an issue when it came to eating dinner with you outside of his home. He supposes if he wants to be a proper and worthy bachelor, he should learn one of these days not to add too much salt to soup, or how to properly fry an egg without burning it to a crisp. Today’s decision to take you both to a cooking class is motivated by those circumstances. Sushi shouldn’t be that hard to master, right?

It begins easily enough.

Each group has an individual station, and the class starts with a simple seaweed salad as an appetizer. He makes sure to follow all the instructions to a T, his only deviation being adding a dash of red pepper flakes because he likes spice. Yunho’s already so used to you asking for a taste of his food that he immediately goes to share his final product without you even asking.

While you’re still mixing your own he beckons for your attention, holding out a bite with his chopsticks, “Open.”

This is something you’ve done before, yes, but only a few times. It’s a bit more embarrassing though while doing such a thing in front of other people, and he can’t help but notice how you can’t look him directly in the eyes while obliging him. You’re so cute when you’re shy.

“How does it taste?” He asks before you can even get to chewing, but he’s a bit nervous that you might spit it out before he does.

When you do get to chew and swallow, he’s surprised to see your eyes light up, “Wow that’s delicious, Yu!”

Asking him for another bite inflates his ego just a pinch too much, but he can’t help it when you’re praising him for his work. Maybe to hide his inability to cook anything else he’d simply make you seaweed salad for the rest of your life. Yeah, that sounds nice… He tries to suppress the confident smirk tugging at his lips and hypes himself up for the rest of the lesson. After everyone in the room has wrapped up that portion of the lesson, the instructor moves forward with beginning the sushi crafting.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you meet your friends?” You inquire in a low voice while the instructor carries on about how much rice is an appropriate amount, clarifying, “Mr. Park and Mr. Choi.”

“I met both in college, but I met Seonghwa first,” he muses, “I was a sophomore and he was a junior, and we both happened to choose the same music elective that year.”

“What the hell is a linguist doing in a music class? Felt adventurous that year?”

“I’m quite the singer actually,” Yunho reveals with a confident smile, but his arms cease their rice flattening when he hears you try to stifle laughter. His brows crinkle as he peers over at you with a prominent pout tugging at his lips, “What, you don’t believe me?”

“No, I do, it’s just–” You give him a once over. “I’m imagining this angelic voice coming out of you and it’s really cute.”

“Angelic…” he muses, then turns back to flattening his rice and smiles to himself, “I guess I’ll have to show you one day and you can determine that for yourself.”

“I’d love that, actually.”

The instructor announces that next you’ll be slicing up salmon and avocado to put inside your rolls. You and Yunho work diligently on splitting the filet of salmon provided between each other to see who can do it best and follow her lead once more.

“Continue the story,” you whisper to him once the instructor gives the last of her enthusiastic pitches on how to glide the knife through in one stroke for each piece, “What happened after music class?”

“Well, we became friends after pairing up for a duet project… and then we met San the following year after he hired Seonghwa for tutoring in history.” Yunho pauses for a moment to put an immense amount of concentration into his first slice, which still definitely ends up way too thick. “He did things like that on the side for money sometimes. Put up posters in the cafes and everything.”

Even though you’re also concentrating, you nod so he knows you’re paying attention. Unlike Yunho, you seem to have picked up on the cutting technique pretty quickly. His eyes keep flickering back and forth between your work and his, and he huffs in dissatisfaction.

“Sheesh, that was quite some time ago,” you state absentmindedly.

“Excuse me, are you calling me old?”

“Possibly.”

For the nonchalant jab at his confidence, Yunho nudges your cutting arm mid-slice and causes you to abruptly cut the current piece in half. The flabbergasted look on your face and the way your mouth drops open at a loss for words makes him giggle.

“I’m so sorry beautiful, it’s these old brittle bones,” he feigns remorse, lips pulling into a dishonest pout when you glare at him, “Can never keep my balance these days with them, you know?”

“Maybe they’re also the reason your slices look as big as filets,” you quip back, “Might as well throw those on the grill, right?”

Yunho’s pout turns genuine. You only apologize because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you both agree to let you cut the salmon while he works on the avocados instead. It doesn’t take long before you’re finished placing the necessary ingredients onto your rice and following the instructor's words on how to successfully roll it all together. This is something that Yunho is actually able to do decently, and he marvels at the way he’s got a genuine sushi roll in front of his eyes made from his own hands. Moving forward, his mind is consumed with cutting it into perfect bite-sized pieces when you tap his shoulder.

“Hey, do you like soy sauce on your sushi?”

“Sometimes, why?” He replies, and when he turns around to peer down at you he’s met with a pair of chopsticks holding up something for him to try.

You smile in place of instruction, but he opens his mouth without even having to be told to do so. Unlike you, he doesn’t mind holding eye contact while you feed him. It feels intimate even with strangers around you. Dozens of butterflies manifest in your stomach and go into even more of a frenzy when he sighs in contentment. He’ll be nice and pretend he didn’t see the way you swallow the lump in your throat.

That’s when you notice you put just a little too much soy sauce on his piece, and your thumb casually swipes the excess from the corner of his mouth. It’s an action that should be helpful and innocent, but you put your thumb in your mouth to lick it clean without even thinking. He absolutely takes notice. Every time Yunho thinks he’s got the upper hand in wooing you, you make him lose his cool so easily.

“Your face is red. Was it too salty?”

Yunho clears his throat and shakes his head hastily when he sees you’re genuinely concerned. He really wants nothing more than to kiss you at this moment, but that would have to wait until you both are alone. The rest of the class goes by quickly when tasked with making a different sushi roll and some strawberry-matcha ice cream for dessert. Yunho thinks he might see a hint of disappointment on your face when things come to an end and you have to take off your aprons.

“There’s a park not too far away from here if you’re okay with walking for a bit. Burn off some calories?” Yunho proposes when you both finally leave the building, and you nod eagerly. For the second time today, you link fingers and begin your venture.

The walk ends up being a bit longer than you both expect, but it doesn’t take much time to find a secluded spot where you could have some privacy when there. It’s fairly brisk today, so when Yunho removes his jacket to grant you a clean place to sit on the grass, you immediately tell him you don’t mind sitting on the ground at all, that you’d rather him be warm. He assures you that he’s not cold at all (a big fat lie) and doesn’t mind getting a little dirt on his pants, so you give in and situate yourself on his jacket. The silence between you both is comfortable, filled with the sounds of people playing somewhere nearby and birds occupying trees in the branches lingering over you. You debate about striking up more conversation about his past, but he beats you to the punch on speaking.

“I haven’t done this in a while you know,” Yunho suddenly divulges, “Have you?”

“Gone on a date?” When he nods you shake your head, “No, actually. Haven’t met anyone worth going past the texting phase, to be honest... Well, besides that one day.”

You feel a bit guilty when still having to lie about that phony date that led to your first dinner together, but it’s not like it’s something you can change now.

“As bad as it sounds… I’m glad you got stood up that day,” his eyes fall to his lap when he mumbles this. He hopes that doesn’t come across negatively.

The corners of your mouth tug into a smile at his honesty. Maybe one day in the future you’d gain enough courage to tell him it was a lie. You wonder if he would genuinely be upset… Though, you suppose you’re thinking way too far ahead into the future for those kinds of worries.

Instead of dwelling on it, you simply say, “I am too, Yu.”

“You’ve been using that nickname more often,” he points out after a moment of thought, “Any particular reason?”

“It’s just a habit when we get alone… helps me separate you from how I know you on campus,” you reply and glance over at him apprehensively, “I’m sorry, it probably sounds too childish, right? I can stop.”

“No no, I prefer when you call me Yu,” he admits, palm digging into the grass as he leans back on his arm with a sigh, “Everybody else calls me Yunho, Mr. Jeong, whatever.”

“Am I not in the same category as everybody else?”

“Not at all,” he professes without any hesitation, lolling his head to the side to finally peer back at you. The soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth makes your heart stutter.

“Duly noted,” is all you’re able to mumble back. When his eyes go from surveying your face for any unease at his bluntness to zeroing in on your lips, you can’t help the heat manifesting in your cheeks.

“Are you comfortable if I kiss you?”

“I feel like we’re way past that step, no?” You quirk a brow.

“Was more so asking since we’re technically in public, but I suppose that’s also true,” he laughs softly, leaning over and pressing his lips to yours before you can reply to him with any nonsense.

His lips are always so soft and plush, and it’s so juxtaposed with the way he kisses you with intensity and clear intent. He’s never really hesitant of himself when you both kiss, never thinking twice about selfishly stealing your air, despite any anxiety he may have about your situation inside of himself. He’s a bit too enamored with the way your tongue still tastes like strawberry matcha to realize that his free hand has dipped under the hem of your dress, fingertips creeping and leaving a trail of heat as they inch further and further up your thigh. As much as you’d love to indulge him, your nerves won’t let you, no matter how secluded your spot might be.

Your hand wraps around his wrist gently, giggling onto his lips as you warn him, “Don’t get any funny ideas. Like you said, we’re in public.”

“You’re absolutely right,” he sighs reluctantly. He can’t deny that he’s slightly embarrassed for even letting his hands move with a mind of their own. There’s just something about you that makes him feel like he doesn’t have to think so hard when you’re around, and it makes him lose his senses in the process. Everything just feels natural. An affectionate smile plays at his lips while he rubs the material of your dress between his fingers, “It’s getting pretty late, the sun is setting.”

“Let’s head back before the traffic gets too crazy then, yeah?” You propose and he nods silently before pushing one last peck to your lips.

The drive back to your apartment feels much quicker than it did leaving, and this stirs up a hint of despondency in your stomach. It feels like your time with him has ended just as soon as it started, but you suppose you should appreciate the full day you did get to spend with him. Still, you know something like today won’t happen that often, and it makes you a bit sad the closer you get to your building.

Like the gentlemen he is, Yunho walks with you up to the second floor and to your door, hands shoved deep in his pockets while he debates on how to say bye. He doesn’t know if he should kiss you goodbye when anybody could be watching now that you’re back in the area. Then again, he supposes even walking you up to your place was risky to begin with. While he’s debating over these things in his mind, you’ve already opened your front door. He doesn’t even realize you’re staring at him until you call his name, to which he’s subsequently sputtering a bunch of apologies after being caught overthinking.

“Why don’t you come inside for a little bit,” you hum, more as an instruction than a request.

Yunho’s tongue prods at the inside of his cheek in rumination over the various prospects of what exactly coming inside could entail, but the way you’re gazing at him with those beguiling eyes is already luring him in before his thoughts can get the best of him. His feet move on their own, taking tentative steps into your abode with an overwhelming feeling of excitement pooling in his chest. The sound of the front door being locked is followed by you coming up behind him and wrapping your hands around his torso. It’s very sweet, the way you bury your head in his back and squeeze him in an endearing hug.

“I really enjoyed today,” you tell him as best you can with your cheek still squished against his back. You feel the warm chuckle he lets out reverberating through his back. He wishes he could reciprocate your hug, but it seems you’re intent on staying behind him.

He settles for saying, “Thank you for giving me the chance to fix things, ____. I just wanted to show you that you mean a lot to me.”

Then, there’s a beat of silence, and he wonders if everything is okay. Maybe that was too much…

“What’s your day look like tomorrow?” you suddenly ask softly, and Yunho's eyes fall to watch as your hands drop and ghost around his belt.

His Adam's Apple bobs anxiously before he answers in an equally soft voice, “Sundays I… I usually prepare my slides and lesson plans for the week. Meet with the boys in the evening after I’m done for some drinks…”

Your hands gently undo his belt as he’s talking, humming “ mhm ” every few words to let him know you’re indeed listening.

“Maybe you should leave in the morning then,” you propose, fingers gently popping open the button of his pants. You can feel him take a deep inhale the moment you finally gently tug at his zipper.

“Yeah, maybe I should.”

That night, Yunho learns several things about you.

He gets to learn the ins and outs of your gag reflex. You have a slight affinity with deep-throating your partners, and he falls in love with the view of you even trying to with tears in the corners of your eyes. The way your lips stretch around his thick cock… It’s an image he stores in his mental album of you for later use.

He gets to learn about the tattoo you have hidden on your back as he’s fervently driving that same thick cock of his into you from behind. He traces it delicately with his fingers before reaching forward to grab at your hair, pulling it back for some well-needed leverage while his sweaty thighs smack against yours over and over.

He especially loves learning that you like being talked through things, and he’s already made you cum twice by utilizing his voice. Rinse and repeat, the way your greedy cunt squeezes and milks him for all he’s worth when says, “Remind me, what’s my name?” And when you moan out that nickname that he likes so much, he replies with, “That’s my smart girl. Looking so pretty, you feel so fucking good around me. You gonna cum for me again, pretty? I can feel you squeezing, go ahead and give it to me.”

Needless to say, it was a very long and educational night.

In the morning, Yunho’s desires get the best of him, and he manages to inconspicuously steal a pair of panties from the laundry pile in your room, shoving them into his pants pocket while you’re in the bathroom. He makes sure to take a plain-looking pair, something he’s sure you won’t notice is missing. There’s a slight feeling of guilt once he’s nearly home, though.

It’s okay, it’s just a one-time thing, he tells himself over and over, I’ll return them the next time I’m over.

—

“YOU WHAT?”

Yeosang slaps his hand over his mouth but, to be fair, his reaction is entirely involuntary. He had promised you he would remain calm, but how could he with this kind of information? You repeatedly sputter that, while you may be in the back of the library, he is very much going to cause a disturbance if he doesn’t shut his fucking mouth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he exhales, leaning in with eyes as big as saucers, “You came in too hot, I need the foreplay first.”

“Don’t phrase it like that, good Lord,” you groan.

“What else am I supposed to say when you tell me you’ve fucked him and none of the lead-up? Fuck, did he even take you out to dinner first?”

“Of course he did,” you defend him quickly, “We’ve spent a lot of time together actually. Mostly dinners and things of that nature.”

“I’m mostly shocked that it took you this long to fuck him. Seems like you hooked him fairly easily.”

“Well…” you cover your face just enough to where an eye can peep out between your fingers, and Yeosang eyes you curiously, “No, that wasn’t the first time…”

“Obviously you hate me, ____,” your best friend immediately states, clasping his hands together, “This is the only suitable explanation of why you wouldn’t tell me this until now. I literally begged you for info like an idiot weeks ago!”

“I’m sorry! It was just—”

“Nah, denied,” he holds a hand up to shush you, “Worst best friend ever.”

“Yeo, I explicitly told you progress was being made. Did I not?”

“You failed to tell me that it was being made between your legs,” he snaps in a whisper-yell. “How many times?”

“Only twice, okay? You haven’t missed much, I promise.”

Yeosang sits in silence with his head perched on his palm, seemingly marinating in all of the information he’s been slammed within the last 10 minutes. There are very few times you’ve seen him at a loss for words, but this moment surely makes the list.

“I didn’t think he would cave that easily, honestly.” He finally speaks. You release all the pent-up air in your chest that you hadn’t realized you were holding in waiting for his words. “What did you do to him ____?”

He pleads for the final time for you to start from the beginning and explain, and you finally grant that to him without getting too into the nitty gritty. You’re a bit bashful recounting some of the lengths you took in setting this all up, but Yeosang simply nods in understanding at each one. If anyone was going to be supportive, it was always going to be your frontline cheerleader.

After taking in the full story, he thinks it’s only proper to ask, “What’s your plan beyond this point?”

“Well, exactly what I said to you a long time ago,” you tell him frankly, “If all goes well, I want to be in a relationship with him after I graduate. I don’t see him saying no to that with the way he’s already treating me...”

Yeosang notices the way your demeanor has changed with this answer. Previously, the humorous lilt in your voice was much more prominent. Those same sentiments and that joking attitude seems to be long gone. He can see it in your eyes, the way you’re taking this more seriously. He wonders what Yunho could’ve possibly done to turn you into such a romantic over him. The answer to that would simply be: everything.

“You know, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure if you were telling the truth about wanting things beyond sex at first,” Yeosang tells you honestly. He may be a goofball, but he’s able to be serious when needed. And despite the foolishness leading up to this statement, his voice is earnest when he says, “I can see this working out for you as long as you’re careful.”

“I hope so, Yeo. I really do.”

—

On the following Wednesday, you and Yeosang are both seated in Yunho’s class wasting time on your phones as class is set to start. Usually, Yunho is very punctual with starting because his lectures are so long, so you’re curious as to what the hold-up is today. You peek over your laptop and spot him talking to a guy you’ve never seen before and, as far as you know, you’ve never recognized him in this class. They nod at each other before you see Yunho clear his throat.

“Everyone, I want to take a few minutes at the top of the hour to introduce someone important,” Yunho begins, loud enough that everyone can hear and cease chatter. “I’m sure some of you recognize him from other classes. For those who don't, however, this is Wooyoung Jung. He’ll be serving as my teacher’s assistant for the remainder of the semester.”

“I’m happy to be able to help any way I can,” Wooyoung proclaims to everyone with a sweet smile before turning back towards Yunho, “And thank you Mr. Jeong for allowing me the opportunity.”

You wonder if this is something Yunho truly chose or whether it was sprung upon him; it’s fairly late into the semester for something like this to be introduced. He does have quite the workload though, you muse. Surely with new hands to help, he’ll manage his time a bit better. You wonder if that’ll mean you get to spend more time with him while Wooyoung is taking care of things that would usually dig into his free time. As if Yunho knows you’re thinking about him, his eyes find yours while Wooyoung is taking his seat at the front of the class. Something about the ambiguous gaze he gives you when others are around makes you itch for his attention even more than normal. He doesn’t ever fail at making it look natural, like he could be looking at anyone for nothing in particular. Those little moments keep things fun.

The answer to your previous queries would end up being that, yes, this was something Yunho chose himself. When presented with an opportunity for a student specializing in his major to offer assistance after being accepted into the Work-Study program later than most, of course he said yes. San had been telling him since he began working at the university last semester that he should take on a TA while he got acclimated to teaching, but Yunho had convinced himself that he could do it all on his own. While Yunho had been pretty open about how terrible his workload was, considering he has 3 class sections, he was never completely honest with you about how much stress this caused him on a day-to-day basis.

He was excited that this would free up some of his previously stolen time and take some pressure off of his shoulders. He was also looking forward to being able to spend some of that newly open time with you, especially. That’s why when you unknowingly throw a wrench into those intentions before leaving his class Friday, he has a hard time keeping the dejection he feels from showing on his face.

“It might be a while before we’re able to hang out again,” you sigh, “Midterms are stressing me out but I don’t want to psych myself out right before I graduate—”

“____,” Yunho places his hand on your head tenderly, silencing your rambling in the kindest way he can. He doesn’t like seeing you so stressed out. “Focus on yourself and do your best, okay? Don’t lose sight of the finish line. Being prepared and passing is much more important than us seeing each other.”

You gaze up at him with some of the prettiest dispirited eyes he’s ever seen. How is he supposed to remain selfless when you look like this? Of course, he’d love to be selfish and fill your time; he knows you’re a smart girl so you’d have nothing to worry about for his midterm at least. He’d take care of it. Nevertheless, you’re still a student of others as well, and he has to extinguish that greed as fast as it ignites.

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course, pretty. You know where to find me whenever you’re ready,” he smiles and gives your cheek a teasing pinch before opening the lecture hall’s door, “See you next Wednesday.”

As expected, two weeks of studying and taking tests consume your entire schedule. Yunho is not much better, and he’s consistently cursing at himself for making the test he gave out to all of his sections so long. Even though he wants to truly know if his students understand all the material thus far, he forgets how time-consuming making the test so extensive can be for him as well. Having Wooyoung around helps quite a bit, even though he feels slightly guilty for putting such a large amount on him when he becomes overwhelmed. Wooyoung never complains though, so Yunho is grateful to have gotten a TA who actually does the work and does it well. During this time, you both try to keep regular contact, offering words of encouragement to each other and discussing what you should do to celebrate when you get your passing grades back.

Directly following the end of midterms week is the weekend before Halloween. Jongho had sent out a text the week prior that he was holding a party at his parent’s rental house, which is currently unoccupied for the season. The man had friends from several different circles because he was involved in many different extracurriculars outside of his studies, so you were certain this party was going to be fairly large.

Naturally, as best friends do, you and Yeosang decide to wear matching costumes for his party. Procrastination had gotten the best of you both with midterms added into the mix, however, and the best thing the two of you were able to come up with before the weekend was a sexy nurse and doctor duo. Simple, but effective.

You both rode along with Hongjoong, who had chosen to be the designated driver for the evening. It’s uncomfortably brisk outside, too brisk to be dressed like you are; however, upon opening the door, you can barely get two steps into the property before Jongho stops everyone in their tracks. His hands hold out exactly what you knew would be coming before even arriving at the house. It’s Jongho’s signature thing.

“You know the rules,” he says with that mischievous smile of his you know too well.

You must take one tequila shot to be admitted past the door.

All three of you quickly take the shot glasses from your host and toss them back without even giving cheers. The burn of alcohol and the robust taste of bitter poison stains your tongue. It hurts a little on the throat on the way down and you salivate to adjust to the pain, immediately making a face of disgust.

“God, it never gets easier,” you cough.

“I’ll grab you something easier,” he laughs while rubbing your back, “Same flavor as usual?”

“Please and thank you.”

As promised, he comes back with two bottles of honeydew melon soju in tow and some fresh shot glasses. It doesn’t take too many heavy-handed shots before laughs and giggles begin to bubble up in your throat for no real reason. You forgot that you didn’t put anything on your stomach before leaving the house, and it’s becoming very apparent every time you feel your head shoot up to outer space and come back down just as quickly. That’s a non-issue though because Jongho’s catered this party with enough food to feed a small village. Anyone watching you stuffing your face with Halloween-themed carbs and sweets is the last thing on your mind. Round two of shots is followed by the intense feeling of needing to dance. Even while intoxicated, you’re perceptive enough to notice various sets of eyes on you whilst dancing with your friends. Every so often, an owner of a set will make his way over and try to chat you up. Like clockwork, you say the same thing to every new person:

Sorry, I’m not single.

You say this sentence so many times in the span of an hour that it begins to feel real. Then again, isn’t it already? As far as you’re concerned, you were spoken for until Yunho said otherwise. You wonder if he feels the same about himself... When you start having a small internal existential crisis about whether Yunho thinks the same, that’s when you know you’re approaching your limit for the night. You step away to grab some water and begin the process of flushing your body. When you make it back to your circle, things have changed. Mingi, with his girlfriend in tow, lets everyone know that they’re going to find a private room before taking off up the stairs of the house. You know it’s irrational and probably motivated by the alcohol in your system, but you can't help but feel jealous that they can do something like that so easily. If you could see Yunho and drag him to a room anytime you were horny, you’re sure a lot of your life’s problems would be solved.

The moment they’re gone, Hongjoong leans in and quickly lets you know he’s also going upstairs to join some other acquaintances in karaoke. You’re just about to panic until Yeosang tugs on your arm to beckon for your attention.

“Going to the bathroom if you want to join,” he leans in and proposes, “I really need to pee.”

Everyone seems to have wanted to go their separate ways, but he’d never leave you alone all by your lonesome. And especially not with alcohol in your system. You grab onto his hand with a nod and let him lead you through hoards of people to the closest bathroom. Luckily, it’s empty and there’s no wait. It’s not long before you’re both locked away from the sound of music thumping from behind the door. While you search through your pockets for your lipgloss for reapplication, Yeosang jets for the toilet.

“I’m drained,” you mutter, “Being bombarded by strangers.”

“You showed up to the party looking like that and expected not to catch some eyes?”

He’s right, honestly. The red and white romper you’re wearing leaves nothing much to the imagination with the way your asscheeks are hanging out of the bottom or the way your breasts are squished together at the top. Your makeup and hair, your stockings and heels, everything just exudes pure sex appeal. All topped off with a little hat and a play syringe you’ve been using occasionally for “alcohol shots”. To be fair, your friend group mainly consisted of men, and many men found it intimidating to approach you with them always surrounding you in settings such as this. People must be feeling especially bold tonight with as much alcohol being drunk, you muse. He giggles to himself because he knows that typically you’d entertain some of the suitors for fun, but you seem devoted to the one man on your mind these days.

“Bet you didn’t send your boyfriend a picture of your costume though, huh?” Yeosang teases, slurred words morphing into a laugh as he finally pulls down his pants. The subsequent sound of him peeing draws a laugh from you.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you scoff and nudge him in the back. He nearly loses his footing.

“Stop, you're gonna make pee go everywhere!” How he is even still peeing with such ferocity is beyond you. This doesn’t stop him from adding in quickly, “I dare you to show him. It’s only fair, right?”

Alcohol-induced pride is something dangerous, but you’re never one to back down from a dare, even when sober. While he’s finishing up, you find your text thread with Yunho and send him the image you and Yeosang had taken together at the beginning of the party.

[Y/N: 1 image]

[Y/N: Matchingg with my besssttieee]

Coincidentally, Yunho is home and lonesomely watching YouTube videos when his phone pings. Oh wow…

He replies with several texts in a minute—one making sure to compliment you both, but the rest shamelessly thirsting over the way your costume is so lewd. Many other men may have made passes at you and offered plenty of flattery throughout the night, but none of them could make you get flustered as much as Yunho. This is the only man you care about hearing compliments from, the only man whose words matter. Maybe it’s that last bottle of soju making you so confident, but your hands move faster than your brain.

“Don’t turn around just yet,” you tell Yeosang quickly before pulling up your camera. You unzip your romper enough to pull one of your breasts out fully, squeezing it teasingly with one hand while the other takes a quick selfie. It’s a tad blurry, but it’ll do its job. After fixing yourself just as quickly, you give Yeosang the okay so he can wash his hands.

[Y/N: 1 invisible ink image]

[Y/N: Would you let me stick you???]

When he gets this notification, Yunho stares down at his throbbing cock already in his hand and laughs. He was already turned on enough by the other picture to pull it out from his sweatpants, but this? He’s usually not one to send nudes, but good God, he wants nothing more than for you to see exactly what you’re doing to him right now. Against his better judgment, he does just that.

[Yunho: 1 invisible ink image]

[Yunho: only if you let me reciprocate after]

When you uncover the picture, your breath catches in your throat: his hand is firmly wrapped around his aching, flushed cock. It looks as though he’s already been stroking himself eagerly, the way it’s glossy with lubricant and an angry shade of red. God, the things you would do to have him pick you up from this party and let you fuck him to your heart's content… Even though that could never happen, a girl can dream, so you decide you have to tell him exactly what’s on your mind. Yeosang’s too drunk to do his job of taking away your phone while you’re so many drinks deep.

“Ready to go back?” Your best friend asks while drying his hands.

Holding your phone tight against your chest for privacy, you sputter, “Do you mind giving me a few minutes alone? I won’t be too long, promise.”

Yunho’s shocked when he sees your name come up on his phone for a call. He was beginning to get slightly nervous when you failed to respond to his attempt at sexting, but that didn’t stop him from staring at your photos and feverishly stroking his cock in the meantime.

“Hello?”

“Hello there, handsome,” you giggle, and Yunho immediately hears the intoxicated tremor laced in your words.

“Having a fun night?” He asks with a laugh of his own, trying to refrain from breathing too heavily into the phone every time he squeezes his leaking tip with a little extra pressure.

You’re too drunk to realize what he’s doing anyway, and you unknowingly feed into his journey toward an orgasm when you outright say, “Yes but… I want you so bad right now, Yu.”

Yunho’s breath nearly catches in his throat, and his face flushes bashfully as his hand glides faster up and down his cock.

His voice trembles a bit when he replies, “I wish I could make that happen for you, angel.”

“Well… you wanna know what I’d do if I was there?” You push further, closing your eyes and tuning out everything outside the door to focus on Yunho alone. He agrees promptly, head kicking back as he closes his eyes in the same way, tuning in solely to your voice. “Been wanting to ride you so bad lately. Keep imagining the way you’d sound when I bounce up and down in your lap… You make the prettiest noises, Yu, I swear.”

He physically swallows any of those aforementioned pretty noises trying to manifest in his throat, burying them deep in his chest before he responds with the only thing his brain can manifest.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, but…” You lower your voice to a whisper, “Do you think I could make you cum all by myself, like no help?”

Yunho is so close, he can barely hold himself together.

“I bet you could. Just seeing you feel good while using my dick would be enough to, honestly.”

The tiny drunken giggle that tumbles from your lips goes straight to his heart, “I say we test that out then.”

“Just let me know when you want to and I’ll be more than ready,” he assures you, accidentally punctuating that sentence with a soft, “ Fuck .”

“____, Jongho’s looking for us,” Yeosang calls out through the door. “They’re about to play a drinking game or something.”

For some reason, the knowledge that you’re talking so filthy like this while anyone on the other side of the door could perhaps hear you pushes him over the edge. With his phone on his chest, Yunho presses a tight hand over his mouth to suppress any noise threatening to come out, instead heavily breathing through his nostrils as spurts of cum sully his abdomen.

You sigh, “My liver is being summoned, gotta go. Bye-bye, handsome.”

The call ends before Yunho can even open his mouth to reply, but that’s fine because he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to come up with a coherent sentence anyway. He settles for dazedly texting you to let him know when you get home safely. The long and uncomfortably hot shower he takes to wash away the filth from his mind and his body leaves him feeling oddly refreshed. It might be because he hasn’t had a conversation with you not relating to the stresses of the previous weeks up until today. It’s silly that something so depraved ended up being the product, but God, does it feel fresh and exhilarating.

Now that midterm season was over and a good amount of grading had been taken off of his hands by taking on a TA, Yunho found himself with enough time on his hands to give his place a good cleaning. If he’s being completely honest with himself, he’s doing this to give himself more confidence in inviting you over again. It had been some time since he last had you there, but that was partially due to the treacherous state that it was in currently. You had been free from midterms for a week now, there were no excuses as to why he couldn’t spend private time with you in his place. The perfect opportunity arose directly after he accomplished his goal, when you mentioned in passing that you were one assignment away from being able to go out.

“How about you come do your work at my place instead?” he had offered, “I’ll order us dinner and we can relax together afterward.”

It didn’t take much convincing for you to end up on his doorstep half an hour later with your backpack slung over your shoulder. You’re so beautiful when you’re done up, there’s no denying that, but there’s something about you when you’re dressed so comfortably casual that makes Yunho get heart palpitations. When you look like that while lounging at his kitchen table, hands typing away at God knows what assignment, it just feels so domestic to him. You look like you belong there. He tries not to stare too much and gives you your space to work though, busying himself with some random medical show he pays no real mind to on Netflix while lying on his couch. Quite some time later, he hears you let out a hefty aggravated sigh.

“Words are starting to blend together,” you murmur while rubbing your eyes. “Hate when this happens.”

“Take a break then, beautiful. Come sit with me?”

It started off innocent, it really did.

Sitting curled up under Yunho’s arm in his lap has now entered the top ranks on your list of favorite positions to be in. It’s soothing, the way his fingers play with the frayed strings of your pants in between rubbing calming circles into your tense muscles. If you weren’t careful, you’re sure this man could lull you to sleep.

“I didn’t know you liked doctor shows,” you mumble against his chest.

“I don’t,” he laughs, “I figured the girl who dressed up as a sexy nurse over the weekend would be interested.”

“Oh hush, you know Halloween is for foolishness.”

But, upon entering a conversation about Halloween, it leads to a conversation about your photo exchange. Yunho has been meaning to ask if he’s allowed to save that image for obvious reasons. Aside from it being sent while you were intoxicated, he also wants to be respectful about deleting it if need be. You reassure him that it’s okay for him to keep and use it whenever he likes, as you do not doubt in your mind he’d never let something like that slip from between you both. That’s when the phone call also comes up.

“Are you usually that horny when you’re intoxicated?” Yunho inquires, “Calling me up and talking like that was surprising.”

You sit up immediately, “I called you? You’re lying…”

“You don’t remember?” His brows hitch in surprise.

“No, I don’t recall that at all,” you gaze back at him, dumbfounded, “What did I say?”

“Nothing much,” he lies, but he knows you’d never take that as an answer. Especially not when his cheeks are dusted in pink at you even asking.

“Please, tell me!” You nearly plead, “Oh God, was it embarrassing?”

“You really want to know that badly?”

The innocent nod you give him makes him give in. He remains focused on the TV to prevent himself from becoming too sheepish by looking into your eyes while recounting such words. Yunho is a bit more conservative with his words as he recalls your remarks about riding him. He’s unable to go into as much detail as you did of course, he doesn’t want to work himself up just thinking about it; moreover, he can’t even say some parts without fleeting thoughts of how he already jacked off simply to your voice telling him such things. It’s embarrassing to him how he lacks willpower when it comes to you, he’s a grown man for Christ’s sake. To be fair, you’re not much help. He doesn’t even notice how you’re toying with his sweatpants’ strings while he talks. When he finally tears his eyes from the TV and meets yours, the gaze you share has you finally moving from your spot.

Who knew Yunho’s living room couch was so comfortable on the knees? Surely not you, until yours are digging into it while you straddle his waist. It’s hard to focus on the way his lips are devouring your neck while his hands are simultaneously frisking every inch of your body he can reach. You don’t know at what point during the last minute you ended up with your joggers thrown a few feet away on the floor, or when he ended up with his sweatpants and underwear pooled around his feet. He can’t focus on anything else but the feeling of your bare cunt sliding back and forth over his cock, watching you teasingly smear your slick all over him with his mouth hung open. He can only take but so much of watching you work him up before he finally peers up into your eyes.

“God, you’re way too good at being a tease,” he sighs as he leans up to ghost his lips over yours. You can feel his little gasps every time you apply a little more of your weight on top of his painfully hard cock. He’s a patient man though, so he doesn’t mind letting you toy with him for however long your heart desires, “I’m not in a rush.”

“Maybe I’m just waiting for you to remind me how to fit it in me,” you joke, gasping as his hands busy themselves by massaging your sensitive breasts under your sports bra, “It's been a while since the last time, you know?”

The raspy laugh he lets out hits you right in your core, and even more so when he says, “You’re a very smart and capable girl, I know you can do it all by yourself.”

The way he enunciates the last three words makes your core throb. When you finally lift your hips to wrap your hands around his length, his hands move from your breasts to your waist for support. You give him a few gentle pumps before lining him up with your sopping entrance.

“There you go,” he encourages when you push yourself open on his tip with a needy moan.

You slide down his shaft gradually, inch by inch until you’re fully seated. The deep, shaky exhale you let out against Yunho’s neck makes him chuckle because you’re such a trooper even without any prep beforehand.

“Give me a second.”

“Want some help?” He asks genuinely, massaging the plush of your thighs and chuckling when he feels you clench at the offer.

He’d lay you down and take care of things himself if you wanted him to, as he’s never one to deny a pillow princess being the service dom he typically is. To his surprise, you begin moving your hips, lifting and sliding back down at a casual pace. His head kicks back and he sighs at the feeling of your warm walls swallowing him in and pushing him out, over and over. You can’t keep in the sounds of pure need and arousal that spill from your lips every time you feel his cock curve up and prod against that spot that makes your stomach do flips. When the sting from the initial stretch subsides, every glide feels breathtaking. You keep your head buried in his neck to focus on your hip movements instead, gasping and moaning in time with every sound of your ass striking his thighs.

You were right, he thinks, it had been quite some time since you both slept together that night of your first real date. Yunho’s been dreaming about that pretty cunt of yours since then—nearly daily—unable to match the feeling of the way you squeeze him with his hand, especially during the nights he works himself up enough to where he needs release. He didn’t want to seem too brazen or shamefully horny by reaching out and asking if he could show you more of what he could accomplish with that cock of his buried inside you, the sounds he wants to try and evoke. Nevertheless, he doesn’t want you to think that’s something that matters the most to him.

Admittedly, the general nerves regarding your extracurricular activities with each other had subsided after the Halloween stint. Yunho gained a lot of confidence after that night. He previously felt guilty during midterm weeks because, even after he had expressly told you to focus on yourself, he was also so sure that there was plenty of midterm stress he could’ve helped you relieve, and vice versa. In many, many ways. Regardless, he decided to let sex with you occur naturally instead, such as last time. It was worth the wait though, if the way his teeth are sinking so deep into his bottom lip to stop himself from whimpering at this pleasure is anything to go by.

“Fuck, mhm, just like that baby,” he hisses when you arch your back and begin rolling your hips against him, “Really gonna make me cum all by yourself, huh? Knew you were ambitious, angel.”

You feel yourself nearly gush with every word. This can’t be the same man who stands in front of you twice a week and talks about semantics, right? On the opposite end, how is he supposed to maintain any composure when the sounds of your sopping wet cunt sucking him in so easily are now battling the TV? Your arousal is so loud and it’s driving him crazy. He tends to firmly pinch at the meat of your bouncing ass and chuckle every time it elicits a helpless yelp from your throat, only to keep his antsy hands busy. Still, he makes an effort to let you do things by yourself, as you expressed.

“Yu?” you whimper into his skin a moment later, and he grunts to let you know he’s listening even if his mind is foggy with lust, “I wanna kiss you.”

Yunho’s heart nearly bursts out of his chest, cheeks flushing at how innocent the request is. His hand tenderly grabs you by the chin and leads your mouth to his while murmuring, “Stop hiding then, sweetheart.”

Time and time again, you’re reminded about how good of a kisser he is. There’s something addicting about the way he loves intertwining tongues and doesn’t care about being messy that turns you on to the highest degree. You can feel heat prickle over every inch of your skin when he pulls back your bottom lip with his teeth. When you begin to bounce faster and grow more eager to cum, Yunho’s hands finally grab underneath either cheek of your ass and begin to help you, hips rutting up in time with every quick hop of you on his cock. It doesn’t take long before his breathing becomes ragged, his own orgasm nearing, and you both break the kiss to gasp for air. Your hands grip onto his biceps when you feel your legs starting to give out from fatigue.

“I’m sorry I–”

“You can relax, sweetheart,” he pants, “Just a little more, I’ve got you.”

Yunho wraps his arms around your back, holding you steady and spreading his legs a bit farther apart before taking over and pistoning his hips into yours. The frenzied babbles of his name in his ear make his eyes roll to the ceiling. Your orgasm blindsides you entirely, hitting you right after a particularly sinful thrust directly into your G-spot. There's no time to indulge in the way you’re making some of the most euphoric sounds he’s ever heard himself pull from a woman because the feeling of your walls contracting and convulsing around his cock gives him the final push to finish himself. Right before he lets go, he lifts you off of his cock with strong arms and cum paints his t-shirt a few seconds later.

“I say we go take a shower…” Yunho begins tentatively, reworking his thoughts after you both are breathing calmly again, “And then, we can order some food because I’m honestly starving. What do you say?”

“And where does finishing my assignment come in, hm?” You pinch his cheek.

“Ugh, you’re right…” he groans, “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time before the food is delivered, right?”

“I’m not even looking at that food until my work is done, and I mean i—” Your voice clips off when he suddenly stands to his feet with you maintained in his arms.

“That shower isn’t going to run itself then,” he counters, lips tugging into a large smile as he happily strides towards his bedroom with you in tow.

Yunho had informed you beforehand that this next week was going to be a busy one for him, induced by training workshops the university decided to spring upon a few colleges. The Dean of his particular college thought that it was a good idea to shove all necessary sessions into the first week of November. He apologizes multiple times every time he thinks about it. You know he shouldn’t have to ever explain his business to you—he’s doing his job as a teacher, which comes first and foremost—but it’s nice that he considers you when his schedule is in conversation. You tell him time and time again that he shouldn’t concern himself with what you may or may not feel about his unavailability. He was nothing but patient with you during midterms, and you were more than happy to reciprocate that now that the time has come.

The first day you have class with him that week, you choose to stick back while everyone else is bustling to get out of the door. It doesn’t take longer than a couple of minutes for the room to completely empty, save for you and your teacher. Normally, his eyes would light up noticing such a thing, but today he seems to be drowning in fatigue with the way his face doesn’t even budge. That doesn’t stop you from heading to his podium with tentative steps while he pulls on his blazer and packs up to continue his schedule.

“Got a minute?”

“For you? Always,” he hums without even looking up. He’s in the middle of shoving the last of his things in his briefcase when you hold up a tied-up plastic bag that catches his attention.

“I know you have a loaded day, so I brought you lunch,” you break the news before he can question it. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but you’re sure it’ll be enjoyable to eat regardless. “Just wanted to save you from having to make an extra stop across campus.”

“You’re amazing, ____,” Yunho utters in a soft voice before taking the bag from you carefully. He’s having a hard time mustering up any kind of physical joy today so he hopes that, for now, his words can at least convey what he’s failing to provide otherwise, “I know it doesn’t look like it but I really do appreciate this. Thank you.”

“You seem tense today,” you point out while moving to join him on his side of the podium. “Did something happen?”

The lecture hall’s doors don’t have any slit windows for prying eyes, so you reach up and rub a comforting hand over the back of his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs. If there’s anyone’s touch that could cure his problems, he’s sure it’s yours. Still, he doesn’t want to make himself too comfortable with the location you’re in.

“You wouldn’t believe how many things are going wrong today. I also have to meet with the head of my department for a performance evaluation based on the midterm grades. Everyone generally did very well but,” Yunho massages the bridge of his nose to help collect his thoughts before continuing, “It’s only my second semester, so the impression I’m making with these kinds of things is very important. I know I have nothing to be worried about but it’s hard not to be anxious.”

“Making yourself sick with stress isn’t going to help either,” you remind him.

“I know, I know. I’m just ready for this week to be over.”

“Maybe we should go out of town again this weekend,” you muse, hand moving to squeeze his shoulder affectionately, “I saw online some fall festivals are happening that might be fun to check out. I remember you saying you’ve never been to one.”

He peers down at you, lips splitting into his first genuine grin of the day, “She takes notes in and out of the classroom, how cute.”

“Only when it comes to you. What do you say?”

There’s a knock on the doors, but before Yunho can muster any words to answer it, the owner comes in anyway. Upon entering in a huff, Wooyoung stops dead in his tracks. His eyes flicker between the two of you before he hitches a brow. You offer him a mild-mannered smile and pull your hand away from Yunho’s shoulder slowly so as not to seem suspicious.

“Good afternoon Wooyoung,” Yunho says so naturally, though you’re groaning in your head, “Did you need something from me?”

You know it’s ridiculous of you, but you’re starting to envy Yunho’s TA. Recently, you’ve come to realize that you hate how Wooyoung gets an immense amount of time interacting with Yunho daily, but it’s still never enough. There’s always something more he needs. You get it, he’s technically an employee to make your teacher’s life easier. That’s something you should be cheering on, right? Deep down, in the most selfish part of your mind, you’re just tired of people always interrupting and interfering in the minimal amount of time you have with Yunho on campus, even unknowingly.

“I remembered I had some questions about your grading criteria for the recent essay that I needed some clarification on before leaving,” he says, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker at you briefly, “But if you’re busy…”

“He’s not. We just finished chatting about what’s due next class,” you answer for Yunho instead, much to his dismay. He notices the tone change in your voice, but as much as he’d like to resolve that, he can only watch you grab your bag. He’s slow to catch himself frowning before fixing his face in front of his TA. While slipping past the younger gentleman to finally leave, you make sure to call out, “See you Friday, Mr. Jeong.”

It takes everything in you to not give Wooyoung the finger to the back of his head, but you decide it’s best not to let such things aggravate you. Again, Yunho is a teacher and this is part of his job. You shouldn’t be so angry at his assistant for doing what he needs to do to make his life easier.

You and your linguist do end up leaving the area again that weekend to attend a festival together. This particular town is covered in thick colorful trees that have yet to lose their leaves. Along with the overwhelming smells over different smells of various food carts and so many people laughing in enjoyment, the entire scene does a number on Yunho’s brain. It scratches a deep itch he didn’t realize he had. Playing little games with you for prizes makes him realize he hasn’t had this kind of fun in quite a long time.

Yunho’s shocked with himself when he asks if you both can take a selfie together in front of all the colorful leaves before leaving for the day. He’s been thinking about something like this for quite some time, a bit dispirited by not being able to savor memories in pictures like everyone else can. Realistically, he knows he really shouldn’t be offering such blatant evidence of your romance to be left on either of your phones. Texts can easily be manipulated and argued, but selfies with you both in them don’t lie. These kinds of thoughts still nag at him in the back of his head even while he puts on this goofy grin, chin affectionately sitting atop your shoulder as he snaps his first photo with you ever. He wishes he could put something like this as his wallpaper. Even if he could, in a world where peeping eyes weren’t an issue, he wonders if that would be too much. Do you like the people you’re involved with to be that mushy?

He doesn’t have the luxury of overthinking about these things for too long before you’re pinching his cheek to bring him back to reality. Reluctantly, Yunho decides to let his brain rest and focus on the rest of the time he has left with you. He’s unable to stay the night or do anything intimate that evening because of prior obligations taking up the rest of his night, but that doesn’t stop him from boldly leaning over his center console and surprising you with a slow, romantic kiss while parked right in front of your complex. He knows he should care, but he can’t find it in himself to be bothered with the risks when he just wants to show you that he appreciates you helping him relax today before he has to depart. You hear him loud and clear.

The following week, Seonghwa finds himself seeking out Yunho’s office after packing up for the day. Yunho’s thumbing at his phone’s keyboard when the courtesy knocks come and nearly scare him, but grants permission to enter.

“I thought you’d be gone by now,” Seonghwa marvels when he finds his friend still perched in his office chair. “Your classes are usually over early on Thursdays, no?”

“I had to rework my syllabus and switch modules around because of some issues getting through lectures last week. Completely slipped my mind that I still needed to revise my lesson plans and slides for tomorrow until this morning,” Yunho sighs, “If I go home it’s definitely not getting done, so I have to stay.”

His friend surveys the ways his cheeks are slightly flushed as he glances back down at his phone briefly and tries to type something quickly. Sure, it could be from frustration or exhaustion caused by his tasks for the evening, but something seems different in the way he’s fidgeting in his chair.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Seonghwa inquires out of the blue, causing Yunho to lift his eyes from his phone abruptly. He offers a knowing smirk when Yunho’s brows furrowed in confusion, “You’re smiling a lot more these days— kinda glowing. Seems like you finally made it out of the dry spell and got laid.”

Yunho subconsciously tucks his phone in his lap, unconsciously confirming Seonghwa’s suspicions.

“Nobody special,” he replies, finding this white lie to be more suitable than lying outright, “Nothing much I can say.”

“Well, where’d you meet her? You don’t talk to anyone when we go out anymore so it couldn’t have been at the bar.”

Yunho hesitates for a brief moment before saying the first thing that comes to his mind, “Tinder.”

“I thought you deleted that app a while ago,” Seonghwa’s brows crease.

“I redownloaded it a while ago out of boredom,” Yunho explains quickly. He knows he’s not the best liar, but there is quite literally no way he’s going to tell his friend the truth about this situation whatsoever. Now, he almost wishes he had just fully lied at the start.

“And you can’t tell me more about a Tinder match?”

“I just–”

“I’d understand if I was San, but someone you can’t even tell me about?” Seonghwa jokes, but Yunho can tell this question is not entirely unserious.

He understands where his friend is coming from. Their relationship runs a bit deeper than Yunho’s with the third addition to their friendship, even though all three are nearly brothers now considering the years they’ve been friends. There’s never been something that Yunho hasn’t been able to come to him about, and they’re both generally always open with anything between each other. Needless to say, Seonghwa always knows when something is off.

“It’s not like that Hwa, just that it’s nobody worth discussing,” Yunho insists, “Who knows where it’ll lead, you know? I’ll let you know if it goes anywhere.”

Seonghwa’s eyes linger on him for a few extra seconds before he simply hums in acceptance. There’s a particular look in his eyes as he sips his water bottle briefly, though.

“Alright... I’ll leave you with these words, though,” he begins, and his voice is earnest. The one he usually uses with Yunho when he needs some tough love. “You’ve worked hard to be where you’re at now. Be careful brother, okay?”

Yunho maintains a fairly neutral expression when he nods, careful to neither confirm nor deny Seonghwa’s thoughts, whatever they may be. Seonghwa is perceptive but surely he’d never pin Yunho as the type to have gotten involved with a student. At least, he hopes.

“You finished for today?” Yunho asks while Seonghwa searches for his keys in his pockets.

“Yeah, thank God.” When he finally finds his keys, he adds, “Don’t work yourself too hard and stay too late, ‘kay?”

Yunho assures him that he definitely won’t, and they both exchange goodbyes before he finally departs the room. He’s pretty sure that he should be the only teacher left on his side of the building in their office right now. He finally brings his phone out of his lap and shoots out the text he was in the process of sending before his friend entered his office.

[Yunho: are you almost done for the day?]

[Y/N: I’m walking to our lot now actually. Everything okay?]

Fuck. Yunho feels bad for summoning you like this on short notice but he can’t take it anymore. His mind has been thinking about one thing all day, and if it doesn’t get taken care of now he might go insane.

[Yunho: if you’re not too far can you come to my office..?]

[Yunho: pls]

You cease your walking, redirect yourself towards his side of campus, quickly typing back to let him know you’re on your way. You don’t get to see him that often, so you’d never deny the opportunity to make that happen. On your venture back to the building, you end up crossing paths with Seonghwa while he’s on his way to the parking lot to head home. The ambiguous glint in his eyes as you both acknowledge each other in passing doesn’t strike you as unusual, but you do take notice.

The building is fairly empty when you enter, which isn’t surprising for the time of day. You take your time going up the elevator and striding to his office since it didn’t seem like this request was an emergency. You also figure it’s fine to enter outright since he specifically requested you to come immediately, but the door is locked upon turning the handle.

“Mr. Jeong?”

You use formalities after you knock just to be on the safe side; you’re not entirely sure who could be hanging around this late. Moreover, maybe he’s locked the door because he’s meeting with someone else briefly before you. Before you can even unlock your phone to text him and make sure he still needs you before leaving, you hear the door’s lock click open. He opens it a second later, enough for you to enter.

“Never seen you lock your door before.” You’re more preoccupied with shoving your phone in the side pocket of your bag as you enter to notice anything off. “Something happen?”

“I’m really sorry, I just didn’t want anyone else seeing me like this,” he explains quickly.

You’re just about to ask him what he means, but Yunho doesn’t give you much of a chance to get too far before he circles his arms around your waist and swoops down to capture your lips. It’s an immensely needy kiss, one you’ve never received from him before. Unintentionally, when the aching boner in his pants brushes against you, he releases a soft groan into your mouth– Oh! The sound of him locking the door sends a chill down your back.

You manage to pull away from him and laugh, brows furrowed in confusion, “Excuse me, have you forgotten where we are?”

“My colleagues are already gone for the day,” he reasons while walking you backward over to his desk. His face is flushed as he implores, “I need you to do me a favor, okay?”

“Of course,” you nod quickly, gazing up at him with expectant eyes. Why does he look so…desperate?

This moment doesn’t feel entirely real. You’re becoming increasingly wet just thinking about the things you could do now that you two were alone in his office if what he says is true. You’ve both exchanged plenty of fleeting, amicable touches when out in public, ones that not many would think twice about, but you’ve never tried something like this when you’re still on campus. Yunho fails to finish his request, too captivated with peppering your neck in wet open-mouthed kisses while he physically coaxes you to sit on his desk. You have on a skirt today, and he’s so thankful not to have to deal with the extra work of pulling off jeans.

“What do you want me to do, Yu? I’ll do anything,” you insist and wrap your arms around his neck, beckoning for his attention, “Just tell me.”

When he stares directly into your eyes, trying to gain enough courage to speak, you reiterate once more that he can ask you for anything.

“I want you to let me go down on you,” he finally spits out before sitting back into the chair you usually sit in when visiting.

“But… Right now? Here?”

“If you’re comfortable,” he adds.

It takes a few seconds for the words to fully sink in, and you hesitate briefly before lifting your skirt against your stomach and begin lying back. Yunho scoots his chair forward with an immense amount of anticipation building in his chest; he wasn’t sure earlier if this would take more convincing, but he’s grateful it didn’t.

“That’s really all?” Your brows crease while propping yourself up on your elbows to gaze down at him inquisitively.

Your confusion makes him chuckle. For someone so good with words any other time, he surely has some trouble expressing himself well when it comes to you most times. Today, though, he decides to let his desires spill freely. He gets ahead of himself and licks a warm strip up your panties, briefly tasting the arousal that’s creating such a big wet spot in the seat of the garment.

“I don’t think you understand ____,” Yunho begins, voice low as he pulls your panties down your legs. The rise and fall of his chest quickens with excitement once you’re bare and spread open by his hands. “Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about doing this again for the longest time.”

“Eating my pussy?” He nods hastily, pressing searing kisses onto the insides of your thighs. “Why didn’t you just ask?”

He sighs when you run your hand through his hair, coy eyes gazing up at you from between your thighs, “I didn’t want to be too forward about it. How do I properly beg you to suffocate me?”

“Just like that,” you laugh, but that’s cut abruptly by him roughly yanking you by your thighs closer to his face. As much as he’d love to entertain the rest of this conversation, he’s too impatient when you’re laid out in front of him like this, all wet and ready for his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks another long stripe upward, the initial taste making him sigh. The breathy moan you let fly at the brief contact makes his dick twitch in his pants.

“Been touching myself to the thought of these thighs around my head,” he admits, repeating the action but putting a little extra attention on your clit, “I was so hard today that I couldn't even stand up during my last lecture. You did that.”

You would crack a teasing joke about Wooyoung having to do his job for him, but any words lingering in your head are stolen the moment Yunho buries his face in your cunt, nose prodding at your clit. He licks and laps messily at your heat like some famished gentlemen consuming a meal for the first time in days. The obscenities that spill from your lips amongst cute, helpless whines only make him nod his head. He wants you to learn—good and well—that this is something he’s self-admittedly very talented at and always ready to do if you ever find it within yourself to ask him. If you didn’t learn that the first time he briefly ate you out, you sure were going to learn now. Yunho’s tongue finds itself buried as far as he can manage in your hole, pushing in and out and savoring the way you taste.

Your hands fly to your mouth because, even if Yunho is sure that you both are alone, you still don’t want the sound of you falling apart on his tongue seeping through the door with the way you’re progressively getting louder. He doesn’t mind you suppressing yourself, he’s set on filling the silence himself. The sounds of him slurping and sucking and kissing are so loud when bouncing against the walls of his small office.

“I love the taste of you,” he groans against your heat, sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt. You gasp and go to close your legs, to move away instinctively, but Yunho is too quick. His fingertips dig deep into the meat of your thighs as he makes an effort to keep them open, refusing to let you squirm away. “Let me finish this time,” he says, voice stern and brows furrowed.

God, that commanding voice he rarely uses could make you cum on the spot. Embarrassment flushes your face when you feel a new wave of arousal from those words gush and drip down your skin. He’s not going to let any of that go to waste though, sparing no time getting back to his ministrations. You don’t even realize that after a while you’ve begun to grind yourself against his face. He feels like he’s in heaven, his hands pulling and encouraging your hips forward as if silently saying yeah, keep going, just like that.

When he feels your legs become more tense, he decides to thrust two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt and latch his mouth onto your clit, set on abusing that spot inside of you that will finally give him exactly what he wants. He ignores the ache in his jaw because every yelp and whimper spilling from your lips spurs his endurance until he finally hears his favorite words.

“Y-Yu, m’gonna cum,” you sputter before he feels your thighs close in over his head. He doesn’t mind this time, this is right where he wants to be when you tip over anyway.

Yunho lets out one last groan of his own onto your clit before he feels your legs go rigid, a signal he knows well now. Your back arches off the desk and he indulges in the feeling of you bucking against his face. He swallows everything you have to give him, mouth open and jaw slack as you tremble through your orgasm. It takes you what feels like forever to let go of his head, not like he’s complaining. When your legs go limp, Yunho slumps back in the chair with a huff. He’d get lock-jaw multiple times a week eating you out if you let him. He supposes this is something he should suggest eventually.

“You’re so hot, it’s unbelievable,” he heaves, staring at the mess he’s made of your cunt. There’s slick and cum and spit and everything in between ruining his desk, but he can’t find it in himself to care about the cleanup right now. When you’re finally able to sit up and breathe properly, he grins at you with that messy mouth of his, “Thank you, seriously.”

“Let me give you head too,” you offer eagerly, though you’re not even sure your knees are strong enough for that right now. To your surprise, Yunho shakes his head. “Please, I want to reciprocate!”

“You don’t have to,” he replies instead, finally fully gaining his breath back. The pout prominent on your face could make him melt into a puddle, he feels so bad but…

“But you deserve to cum too—”

“I… did already, ____,” he divulges and bashfully covers his face before you can see his cheeks flush with heat. You slowly glance down at his crotch and your eyes go wide. Yunho has indeed cum completely untouched, right inside his pants, as evident from the large wet spot soaking through his brown slacks.

A man who loves eating pussy so much he gets off just from your pleasure…

You push his arm away from his face and pull him in by his cheeks for an endearing kiss, one that you hope shows your appreciation and adoration.

“I’ll take care of you another day,” you promise him against his lips upon breaking. Regardless of the embarrassment coursing through him at the moment, he nods in acceptance. Anxiously walking to his car with his briefcase pressed firmly against his crotch to hide the aftermath of committing various sins in his office after finishing his work for the day is not something he ever expected to do, but somehow it still feels gratifying all the same.

It��s around this week that Yunho begins to sit down and seriously start examining his feelings. A quiet night in his home where he’s alone leads him to decide to sort out the swarm of thoughts he’s been accumulating in his mind for the last couple of weeks.

There’s no doubt in his mind that you both share a connection he’s never experienced with another woman before. When this all first began, although he explicitly let you know that he genuinely likes you, he initially wondered if maybe that was coming from being so attention and touch-deprived for some time. That maybe he was latching onto something because you filled a void, a subconscious selfish attachment to you to satisfy the things he lacked. None of that ended up being true, not even close. You both had spent a considerable amount of time exploring this thing… he supposes that’s where the dilemma comes in. What is this “thing”? He knows things are complicated considering the circumstances; but, are you both technically dating, just without the official title until that resolves itself? You hadn’t necessarily made that clear. What if you found someone closer to your age who made you feel the same way as he did within that time? Someone who you could be normal with and not have to sneak around or hide to enjoy.

This is where his selfishness comes in.

He thinks about how he would indeed be jealous and perturbed if he even saw you with another man like that, even if it makes your life easier. He doesn’t want to even think about you giving another man the same heart palpitations or sweaty hands he gets when he’s around you. He doesn’t want anyone else on that campus to know what it feels like to kiss you. He doesn’t want anyone else to know how good and fulfilling it feels to be the object of your desires. It’s been nearly three months of dates, spending time together, and learning the ins and outs of each other (in all five senses and beyond). How could he not feel infuriated if that were to happen?

That’s when it clicks for Yunho: he’s fucking in love with you. The moment this loud thought crosses his mind, Yunho’s chest tightens in fear. The last time he thought he felt this way about a woman, she hurt him in a way that took him some lengthy time to heal from. And, as he always has to remind himself, you are not just some woman. You’re also his student. This isn’t as simple as unmatching someone on Tinder because things didn’t work out, or blocking someone after a heartbreak. Though, the more he thinks about that word — student — the more he realizes it doesn’t matter anymore. You are much more than that. And soon enough, that word would no longer be in your vocabulary anyway. The only thing he cares about now is that you end up his officially at the end of the day. He was going to do whatever he could to make the rest of your semester smooth and stress-free, so you both could be happy together when it’s over.

And, as if you know you’re being thought of, Yunho’s phone buzzes with a text from you asking if he’s asleep. He debates with himself about whether he should bite the bullet and ask if you can both talk about things in the near future, but he ultimately decides against it. For now, he’ll indulge in the way you call his phone before he can even type a response and tell him that you want to fall asleep to his voice.

Some days later, you find yourself knocking on Yunho’s office door in the early afternoon. Unlike some people, you wait until he answers with a confirmation to enter.

“Good afternoon,” he beams after realizing it’s you, wiping his hands clean with a napkin.

“Ah, I’m just in time,” you chirp with clasped hands when you spot his empty tupperware. “I was worried I was going to interrupt your eating.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered anyways, pretty. You’ve seen me eat many times.”

“You deserve to eat in peace at least once a day like everyone else,” you reason while sitting down across from him as usual, “I sprung this meeting on you last minute anyway.”

“Speaking of which, I’m still quite confused about why you wanted to come here for this,” he replies while spinning his chair from side to side, “I told you my home is always open for you, especially for things like this.”

“This” being discussing your final paper. The same thing that put you right into his lap in the first place.

“Just felt a little nostalgic I guess,” you grin, adding in a quieter voice, “And maybe a little jealous too.”

His brows furrow, “Jealous?”

His confusion is expected, as you’re sure he hasn’t paid attention to much of the interruptions you’ve experienced while with him the last few weeks on campus. It’s not simply Wooyoung either, but everyone who gets his attention on campus when you have to stay away for one reason or another. The way other women on campus look at him or speak to him, unaware that he’s already devoting his attention to you. It eats at you a bit sometimes.

Yunho may be greedy but you’re much greedier, as if that wasn’t evident enough by the things you did to attract him in the first place. Even then, he’s never failed to oblige any of your requests, whether that be with his endearment, his time, or his… assets. He deserves everything in the world, and you can’t wait to give that to him when the time arrives. For now, you’ll behave to the best of your abilities.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just rambling,” you deflect, “Seeing you in your element is just nice, that’s all.”

Yunho’s curious about what’s going on in your mind but he decides not to pursue further answers.

“So, what do I have the pleasure of helping you with today?”

The apples of his cheeks are even more prominent today as he smiles while asking this. You know he loves his job, but you’re sure he doesn’t get this much glee during office hours with anyone else.

“Last session at your house we talked about my analysis section and I remember you telling me that I was overthinking, but I’m still second-guessing myself on some of my points. I guess I just need to run some things by you to be one hundred percent sure I’m in a good direction.”

“You’re almost as bad as me,” he declares. As the self-proclaimed King of Overthinking, he’s the only person allowed to say such a thing to you. Still, it makes you pout.

“To be fair, we both know this is not my best subject, so this final might be more important to me than any of my others,” you confess. This is partially true; a small part of you wants to impress your handsome linguist by showing him a final product worth reading.

“You know I’d take care of things regardless, right? You don’t have to stress about that.”

“I appreciate that, but I want to earn this grade genuinely,” you clarify. He lets you know he understands, but you want some extra reassurance when you say, “Promise me you’ll grade me genuinely, okay?”

“I get it. I promise pretty lady,” he guarantees you with a soft, affectionate smile. “I know I tell you all the time in the most inappropriate scenarios… but I mean it when I say you’re a smart woman. I know you’ll do fine.”

If he could see you right now, Yeosang would surely be laughing at you for being such a lover-girl and telling you that you’re an absolute idiot for passing up an automatic A+ on your final, but you never genuinely pursued Yunho for that kind of leverage anyway, regardless of the initial jokes. This was something you genuinely hoped Yunho was aware of when it came to communicating your feelings.

As always, he takes all the time you need to help you with a list of things you want a second opinion on, sources you want to make sure are up to par, and everything in between. He thinks it’s cute when you pull out your little checklist named “Things To Ask Yu”, and diligently check each off as they’re completed.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips the moment you check off the final thing on the list. You both meet eyes for a brief moment, and the look donning his face is something oozing with pure adoration. You hold his gaze for what feels like forever before glancing at your watch. You’re making good time, it’s been almost an hour.

“When you look at me like that, it makes me want to throw away all my responsibilities and stay here all day,” you mumble.

He lets out an airy chuckle, “Am I keeping you from anything in particular?”

“I do have a class in about half an hour.”

He stretches his arms over his head with a grunt, “Sounds like we should end things for the day and meet here again in a couple of days then, Miss Nostalgia.”

“Well…” You trail off as you stand to your feet and make your way to the office door.

Yunho watches your fingers lock his door before you stroll back over to his side of the desk. Something stirs in his gut as he looks up into your eyes when you finally reach him, calculating the way you gaze back at him playfully. The small mischievous smirk playing on your lips… God, he just knows he’s in trouble. He turns his attention toward his laptop when you sit yourself on top of his desk right beside him.

“Well?”

“Remember how I said I would take care of you at another time?” The feeling of the edge of his desk sinking into your thighs elicits a soft sigh while you recount that day, as if him eating you out like a Christmas dinner wasn’t already ingrained into your mind. “This seems like a moment where that would be fitting.”

“Do you remember where we are?” He mimics your statement the last time you were both intimate in his office, in the same cadence and everything. His fingers delicately click at his mouse as he tries to think of anything else other than your thighs peeking out of that pleated skirt you’re wearing, directly next to his hand.

“If I remember correctly, that didn’t matter last time…”

“The circumstances were very different,” he immediately counters.

It’s true, to an extent; the timing was more on par for solitude. Regardless, he knows he sounds like the biggest hypocrite at the moment, even more evident by the roll of your eyes he catches out of the corner of his. He leans back in his chair and runs his hands through his hair. Sometimes he wishes he was more adventurous, less concerned about the consequences, and more accepting of the thrill of things. When he’s thinking of these things, it’s not even for his sake, but yours. He can’t handle the thought of you losing your degree due to his selfishness. And yet, he can’t help the arousal building from those thoughts about your mischievous side. You’re able to pull that side out of him so easily.

“And yet, you’re hard,” you say quietly when your eyes fall to his ever-so-inviting lap, a blithe little chuckle following. Subconsciously, he covers himself over his slacks. “Are you scared of getting caught even with the door locked?”

“____, it's 2 PM and we're in my office with many people passing by every minute. Not to mention my other students who could request me at literally any time,” he explains with a flustered smile, “This is immensely risky, you know that very well.”

“But–”

“You also know very well I’m extremely bad at being that quiet with you,” he interrupts your attempt to plead your case. Only then does he roll his head to the side and give you this look with low hooded eyes that finally make you glance away. His sentiments make goosebumps lace your skin because— fuck —yes you know he didn’t like being quiet. That was honestly an understatement. The heaving, moaning, and endless praise were only the start of what you could pull from the man during your escapades.

You ponder for a brief moment, contemplating just letting it go, but end up pursing your lips and resorting to those famous eyes you give Yeosang when you want something unattainable.

“Please Yu, just let me give you a good blowjob. It'll be quick and quiet, I promise.”

He just can’t say no when you look at him like that, so he sighs, “I guess…”

“I also have an idea.”

Yunho is not sure what he initially expected when those words came out of your mouth, but surely it didn’t include the way your hands slip under your skirt and tug your panties down your legs. He’s sure his entire face is a deep shade of scarlet when you hold them out for him. It doesn’t help that they're visibly wet.

“Maybe this can help you stay quiet, you know?” You suggest this while motioning to your face. He understands, of course, but he feels like this will just make things worse. So much worse. It’s confirmed when he feels his pants tighten from merely holding them in his hands. Still, he agrees and nervously pushes his chair back. After sinking under the desk, Yunho pulls his chair forward with enough room for you to sit on your knees comfortably. At least there was no way you would be seen if something strange were to arise.

Undoing his belt is one of your favorite parts, the anticipation visible in his ansty hands when he doesn’t know where to put them while you work it off. Your fingers tug lightly at his pants zipper before you dip your fingers past the hem of his waistband and pull them down quietly. He makes sure to lift his hips a little for you to slip them past just enough. You take one glance at his slightly flustered face before you pull his length from out the hole of his boxer briefs. It’s so hard that it hurts, leaking a copious amount of precum and making quite a mess.

“There are people outside the door,” he voices his nerves again at the last minute, peering at the shadows of feet passing the door, and then back down at you.

“Didn’t know you had such an exhibitionist kink then,” you poke fun at him in a whisper, noticing how much he’s twitching once the words leave his lips. A teasing laugh slips from your lips and he groans in frustration, his empty hand moving to cock to stroke himself lazily.

“I do not have an exhibitionist kink,” Yunho snaps back with a huff. His cheeks are so flushed with chagrin, and it amuses you because if he really was that scared, he’d simply tell you no. He’d turn you away with that stern voice he rarely uses and suggest a different place and time. But Yunho wants this as much as you want it, despite what his mouth may say in the meantime.

“Ready?” You remove his hand and let a long string of saliva fall from your tongue onto his tip, just enough for lubrication. Then, you place your hands around his shaft and start stroking him yourself, mixing the spit with his dribble of precum. “You seem pretty turned on by the idea of being caught, Yu.”

The endless string of soft gasps and strangled noises of air coming from him as you work your hands on him just the way he likes is enough to drive your pride up the wall. There was always something different about how you touched him that he’d never be able to fulfill himself. He’s indubitably addicted to you.

"Shit, ___–”

“Shhhh. Unless you’d prefer to get caught?” You quirk a brow curiously as you increase pressure on him so he can’t supply an answer. Instead, he kicks his head back and lets out a soft, satisfied moan that sounds similar to your name. You follow that with a tsk! and shake your head disapprovingly. “My mouth hasn’t even touched you and you’re already a mess.”

He lowers his eyes to meet yours with a pointed glare and a chill runs down your spine, “Taking your sweet time is not helping.”

You go to taunt him again but can't even finish the first word before his free hand rakes through your hair and pushes your open mouth down on his cock instead. Yunho twitches and throbs under you with a low, constricted grunt while you clutch his thighs with your nails. He’s in love with the way you look up at him so innocently, your plush lips wrapped around his length and tears prodding the corners of your eyes at the sudden intrusion. It amazes him how you’re still able to smile, eyes half-lidded as if he had just blessed your mouth.

“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself… Can I?” He sighs out, implying letting him use your mouth as he sees fit.

The hum you release around his length and the way you relax your jaw confirm his request. Yunho holds you gently on either side of your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks tenderly before guiding you up and down his cock at a leisurely speed. Occasionally, he accidentally prods at the back of your throat and elicits a choked moan. He whispers his apologies each time even though he has nothing to be sorry about, but it’s just a habit. He winds his hand in your hair and pulls his cock out a bit to focus your mouth on his tip, bucking his hips in short, hasty thrusts and reveling in the way it draws sloppy noises from your mouth while you seal your lips around his tip to keep from making things too messy. The panties pressed to his face with his other hand aren’t doing much to repress those grunts that come from deep within his chest.

“Feels so good,” he pants softly from under the fabric, lips fixing to whimper, “Am I going too fast?”

You moan around his length once more, shaking your head and blinking away any remaining dampness from your lashes.

“If it’s ever too much, tell me to stop and I'll stop,” he insists affectionately, but those dark brown eyes are fixated on yours with blown-out irises and deep carnal cravings.

He can’t expect you to ever want him to stop when he looks like that, right? Of course not. You take everything he gives you like the good girl he already knows you are, the sounds of your squelchy throat filling the silence and bouncing off the walls of his office. As much as you try to keep things clean, you can’t help the flood of saliva dripping onto his underwear the faster he fucks into your mouth. You can tell his orgasm is growing closer and closer by the way his thighs start trembling.

And even though Yunho thinks he hears a sound closer to his office door than his comfort would allow, he continues his pace. Your eyes are closed, focused solely on breathing, so you aren’t aware of the way his attention is elsewhere. His eyes stayed trained on the silhouette of feet at the bottom of the door’s threshold, and there’s a fleeting thought of whether he should stop. That thought is overwritten with pure lust, spurred on by the way you reach up and begin to massage his balls the best you can from your position. Yunho bites down on your panties, muffling the whine bubbling from his chest. A moment later, your panties fall from his mouth and his hips lose all rhythm.

“Fuck ____– cumming,” he groans a little too loudly, but his head is somewhere deep in outer space, brain screaming at him for release, “Where?”

You open your mouth just the slightest bit wider to emphasize that you want him to cum down your throat. Yunho halts his hips altogether and you feel his cock throb in your mouth as he finally releases everything he has to offer. He’s no longer concerned with who may or may not be lurking at the door; the only thing he can focus on is the way you lock eyes with him while swallowing his essence and sucking him clean after the fact. Nothing else matters at this moment but you.

Friday’s class ends earlier than normal when Yunho gets through his lecture for the period faster than expected.

“I need you to help me dye my hair soon if you have some time,” Yeosang says the moment people begin to stand and leave. You glance over to find him grimacing while looking into the camera of his phone, “I think I need to go back to pink or something, the brown is just not doing it for me.”

“I knew it wouldn’t last long,” you snort while filling up your backpack, “You’re just not used to having natural colors anymore.”

“I can’t even argue with that, my love.”

You ruffle a hand through his tresses before he finally stands to his feet, and you follow suit. Then, you toss a couple of things around in your mind about your schedule as you both walk down the lecture hall stairs before suggesting, “Actually, you could come over tonight if you already have the supplies.”

“Fuck, you’re the best. I’ll bring dinner too?”

Before you can even answer, a voice calls your name and steals your attention. Surprisingly, it’s Wooyoung of all people approaching you both. You can’t even hide the disinterest you feel in acknowledging him, it’s written all over your face.

“Do you mind if I speak with you privately for a moment?” he inquires, motioning towards his chair.

Yeosang meets your eyes inquisitively before stepping away and telling you he’ll meet up with you later. The class has emptied when you both venture over to Wooyoung’s seat, and he begins searching through his bag for something in particular.

“Is there an issue with something I submitted?”

“Not necessarily,” he replies. “I suppose I just want some insight.”

He pulls out the notebook he uses for tracking grades in this class and places it on the table. People always find it a bit weird that he prefers to do things by hand first before electronically and, sure it might be more work than necessary, but he prefers to have both methods.

“I’m a pretty meticulous person, ____. I noticed that there’s a discrepancy in the grades for last week’s short essay assignment,” Wooyoung begins in a honeyed voice, “Though, the only discrepancy was on yours.”

“I’m not sure why you’re coming to me about this when Mr. Jeong handles things like this,” you respond indifferently. “I would ask him about the mistake.”

Wooyoung smiles and leans forward on his elbows, “That’s the funny thing, I did. He told me that he had made the change himself and not to worry about it. No other explanations.”

“Well again, he’s the teacher, so it sounds pretty open and shut then.”

“It’s never that simple, ____. I looked back and noticed this has happened a few times throughout the last month, actually.”

“If you’re just going to keep badgering me about grade changes I have nothing to do with then I’m gonna end this conversation here.” To be honest with yourself, there’s a part of you deep down that’s cursing profusely at Yunho for messing with your grades, and so openly at that. This is something you had explicitly made clear you didn’t need or want, but he had done it anyway. This is something you would have to chastise him about later in a very serious conversation. That’s the only concern on your mind as you start taking steps toward the doors and wave with a flick of your wrist, “Anyways, I’ve gotta go. I have other obligations for the day.”

“You mean like sucking off your teacher again?”

You cease all movement and turn back towards him, “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, that came out a little blunt, didn’t it?” He holds his hands up in remission. “It’s just not hard to put two and two together when your ear is pressed to a door and all you hear is choking, you know?”

“I have no clue what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’m offended you think I’d need that to pass a class anyway,” you reply indignantly. Still, there’s this slight feeling of panic pooling in your stomach.

Wooyoung gives you a knowing look, “You’re going to play stupid, really?”

“Look, I really don’t have the time for this—”

“I suppose we could ask the Dean what she thinks about things then? He said your name quite a few times, luckily,” Wooyoung interrupts you and suggests instead. His eyes flicker down to his phone and a pure look of fear at the thought that he possibly has a recording of you and Yunho’s depravity slates your face. “Oh, that got your attention.”

His laugh that follows that statement hits you right in your gut.

“My God, you’re an absolute asshole,” you seethe, but stop yourself before you can say anything worse. You’re well aware that being mean won’t get you on his good side. Instead, you calm yourself and rub your temples before asking, “What do you want to keep quiet, money? I don’t have much to offer but I can figure something out.”

“Listen, ____,” he says as he leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together, “I have a simple proposition that could make all of this just disappear.”

“Spit it out already then.”

“I want you to pretend we’re together for a little bit, publicly. Just enough time to make my ex want me back. Then, we can call it quits and go about our lives as if none of this happened.”

You can’t help the scoff that comes out of you, “You want me to fake date you to make your ex jealous, or else you’re going to essentially ruin my life. Is that what I’m hearing?”

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound evil,” Wooyoung points out with a hefty sigh. He slumps in his seat, “I’m not an evil guy, I would just like some help. That’s all. And you’re just not really in a position to say no, unlike others I’ve asked.”

“There’s a reason why those people said no, obviously,” you retort bitterly. He lets your sharp words roll off his back and simply smiles; there’s nothing you could say that would help your position and he knows this. It’s mid-November and graduation is in approximately a month. Surely it shouldn’t take that long for this plan of Wooyoung’s to finish, he knows this. The thought of it going on longer than necessary makes you feel physically ill though. Not to mention what Yunho would think about you having to interact with Wooyoung intimately.

“I want to make something clear as well,” he begins as if he’s forgotten this himself, “You cannot tell any of this to Mr. Jeong either. I don’t want my money for my assistant position to be compromised, obviously.”

Your brain begins to short-circuit at the thought of having to date Wooyoung openly without Yunho being aware it’s fake. The logistics in itself would cause you immense stress that you surely don’t need while closing out the end of your semester. You should very well be focusing on graduating and nothing more. Nonetheless, the last thing you want is for Yunho to lose his job because you couldn’t keep your mouth to yourself when he was already concerned about being caught that day. You don’t even care about the consequences for yourself, you’d feel immense guilt forever for ruining Yunho’s career and reputation. But, if Yunho heard that you were dating his TA, he’d surely break things off with you anyway. That thought scared you even more.

“So, would you like to exchange numbers?”

Halting your panic-stricken daze is Wooyoung’s hand surrendering his phone to you, a blank contact screen ever-so-inviting. You feel defeated, and you know this is going to end up turning out poorly, but you just can’t risk Yunho losing his job over you. When your anxious fingers snatch his phone and begin typing your information, Wooyoung sighs in contentment.

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