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setsugekka · 1 year

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❥5 weeks (m)

↳ In which a freelancing stylist gig puts you between a rock and a hard place.

The rock being ‘never slept with a client before and not looking to start now,’ and the hard place being a younger than you and much too daring for his own good, Jung Wooyoung.

jung wooyoung x older stylist fem!reader — coworkers to lovers, mutual pining, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [12.1k wc] cws: unspecified age gap!! they’re both down atrocious but he is the one making all the moves, mutual masturbation, a metric fuckton of dirty talking, praise, humiliation, pet names including ‘mommy,’ and the use of ‘noona’ but really it’s his kink and not hers (a drop of ‘daddy’ too but it’s more for comedic purposes than anything), drop of a breeding kink (also kinda comedic), oral sex (m+f), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, wooyoung has a Big Dick and is wildly kinky and confident.

“Oh, give me a break!”

Shoulder sling of your bag dropping from you in exasperation and barely caught by your hand as to not allow your belongings to fall to the floor, you roll your eyes briefly towards the man informing you of the terrible news of the day. Of the month.

“Are you kidding me? This isn't what my contract said.”

“It sort of is,” the man reluctantly replies, avoiding eye contact that he knows will not help make the situation any better for either of you. “Blah blah blah 'in the event of a personnel shift then we have the freedom to place you wherever we need you.”

You knew, you were lying in hopes of being able to get out of it.

Unfortunately, when you took the job and signed the contract, you did know that this would be a likely outcome. Freelance stylists were able to choose three groups of which they had preference in working for throughout the show — bigger groups come with their own stylists and full slots majority of the time, but occasionally need additional hands on, which is where you come in. Smaller groups have less on board staff and require more freelance help on set — also where you come in, although, not ideally.

Of the six groups on broadcast, you had worked with four. three you enjoyed, they went on the list of preferences.

The one that you didn't enjoy working with, along with the other that you hadn't become acquainted with, were left off. Nothing against them, just better to play it safe with what you're familiar with.

And now you have to find out which group you got assigned for the next five weeks.

Slinging your bag back onto your shoulder with a huff, you thank the man for his time even in spite of not really being all that thankful, and make your way down the white walled hallway, the names of groups you're familiar with passing you by — slowing down as you pass the ones you had wished to work with and happily waving towards the members as you carry on — it's a brief relief, you'll still get to see them and have fun with them, just not as much as you would have given alternate circumstances.

And then you reach the room number, 3B.

ATEEZ.

Squinting slightly, you recall that you're actually not completely unfamiliar with them, and happily, they're not the group you didn't enjoy working with. You already know the names of everyone in the group, and you think you remember doing some behind the scenes broadcast work when they were still in their first year, albeit, not much.

It could have been worse.

Walking into the room, you first introduce yourself to the entire lot of people, then focus towards managers and the other stylists — all very welcoming and happy to receive the help, it seems.

Then, the members.

All of them gathered around, clamoring to accommodate you in such an overwhelming way that you can't hardly make out a single word being said one way or another, Hongjoong finally shushes the rest to get a word in edgewise and calmly welcomes you on board, along with apologizing in advance for whatever it is that may take place as a result of working with the lot.

You don't know what he means by it exactly, but you're familiar with working with boy groups — some things are pretty standard across the board. The dirty jokes, the messiness, the crudeness — if you're lucky, it mostly ends there, immature young men just trying to fit in having a good time in the midst of their otherwise busy schedules — you're used to giving it a pass.

But you sift through your mental rolodex of stories that you've heard about groups through the grapevine — water cooler among stylists type talk — and fail to land on anything in particular about them.

When it comes to this sort of stuff, no news is good news.

The boys scatter back to where they had come after the warm welcomes, and you dart your head around in an attempt to find a place to put your personal belongings. Truthfully, the room is small for the amount of people in it, and you're seemingly the last to join the crew. You wish not to place your purse down on the floor next to the door, but without another option at hand, you resign yourself to the fact that this will have to make due. Phone and wallet sticking out of the top, you kneel down to scoot the items against the wall when a strong hand comes from the side, taking you by the wrist. It's gentle even in it's abruptness, and takes you by surprise all the same.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,” he says, quickly letting go of you but remaining in his knelt position next to you. “Don't put it there, I got a place.”

Eyebrows furrowing at the words, and the implications, you cock your head to the side before responding to him. “Problem with thieves? I mean, I know it's a pirate concept—“

“Oh, very funny!” he says, matching your playfully mocking tone with wide eyes. “No, but the door has loose hinges and if someone comes through that thing fast enough it's going to destroy everything you've got in there.”

Come to think of it, you had noticed that upon entry. Not as funny as what you had said, though.

The both of you stand, your items in hand again, and he leads the way towards a small area of the room that he appears to have made out for himself. It's simple: two folding chairs, one for sitting, and one to serve as a table, with his food already set out on it — the man points towards under the table-chair. “Put it there.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you know my name?” he asks, no discernible tone to it, but you can't recall an idol ever asking you the question outright — especially knowing that you're a freelancer.

You watch him only break eye contact with you long enough to seat himself back down, taking his lunch into his hands and nodding towards the makeshift platform, communicating to you that he wishes for you to use the chair for its intended purpose now.

“Is this a test? Or some kind of, I don't know—“ you pause, leaning back comfortably. “Am I like, supposed to?”

And he laughs in response, a sudden chuckle as if not having expected the retort at all. You watch him wipe his mouth with a napkin and take a sip of his drink before settling in to respond to the comment. “No, I was just curious because I wouldn't introduce myself again if you already had. I'm Woo—“

“Wooyoung, I know who you are.”

“Wow, all of that just for you to already know who I am?” he questions, wide eyed again — you can tell that he's enjoying the banter between the two of you. You'd be lying if you had said you weren't doing the same. “Enjoy playing games, is it?” he asks.

Typically, you would say no. But right now?

There had been a handful of idols that you had worked with over the years where the two of you hit it off naturally, comfortably. A welcomed lack of professionalism in an area of work that didn't normally allow for any room for it, being able to meet people that truly allowed for you to simply be yourself — it made going to the job everyday just that much easier.

“So,” you begin, not wanting to allow the conversation to die down as the man with the two-toned hair in front of you continues his meal with all eyes on you as you speak. “Who has the problem head in this group?”

“Problem head? “ Wooyoung exclaims, having never heard the verbiage before.

“Yeah, like who is going to be the biggest issue. Who doesn't wash their hair like a normal person or never brushes it or whatever.”

“Oh!” he yells, finally having caught on, and wipes his mouth with the napkin again before pointing across the room and loudly calling out towards another member. “It's Seonghwa! It's 100% Seonghwa! Never seen that man brush his hair in my life!”

Laughing, you turn to look behind you at Seonghwa seated in front of a mirror, another stylist going to work on his hair — roughly, at that — and as you make eye contact with a Seonghwa who is shaking his head, you move your eyes up and towards the stylist behind, solemnly nodding in accordance to Wooyoung's claims.

You turn back, Wooyoung shoving more food into his mouth. “Told you,” he mumbles between chews. “You got a boyfriend?”

You had let the conversation die down, and just as quickly, Wooyoung sparks it up again, still gnawing on the chicken in his mouth as he gets the words out.

“No,” you carefully reply, question lacing your tone that the man is sure to pick up on, but he only grins, swallowing, wiping and leaning forward towards you so that he doesn't have to carry his voice in more than a whisper.

“Good.”

By the end of the first week, you had a good idea that you might have sex with this guy.

On a surface level, you weren't too thrilled with the prospect, though. In all of your years working in the industry, you had never crossed that line. You knew colleagues who had, and worked with idols that regularly did, but despite not being morally or fundamentally opposed to the idea, it seemed better for everyone to just not. It was easy enough, usually. You had met some people that you had hit it off with and sure, the thought had crossed your mind occasionally — the sneaking 'what if' of a fling with someone, but it never felt especially in grasp. You weren't going to go out of your way to make it happen, and as far as you could tell, no one else had on their end, either.

Until now.

An entire week of friendly banter and heavy flirting that only came on stronger and stronger with each day, it's the first friday when you have Wooyoung in your chair and hair in your hands that the glances shared felt especially loaded.

Pulling on his hair slightly at a particularly tricky knot, you apologize, watching him wince vaguely in the reflection — only for him to glance up from his phone with a half grin and a wicked pointedness to his eyes.

“It's fine, I like it.”

And you want to be able to ignore it. Ignore the implications of the words. Feeling foreign eyes on you, your vision quickly darts over to make contact with Hongjoong's — seated next to the two of you and being dealt with on his own. He chuckles under his breath, having overheard the comment, and you pull on Wooyoung's hair again, this time on purpose.

A silent insistence for him to behave.

“How old are you, noona?” Hongjoong suddenly asks from beside you, eyes glued back down to his phone screen, and you're not sure why he's asking.

You have your suspicions, though.

“Older, old enough,” you respond. It pulls another chuckle from the leader of the group.

“Makes sense,” he says, finally receiving the go ahead to get up from the chair after having been finished with. “He likes that. Good luck with this one.”

Feeling heat rush to your face, and not particularly enjoying the fact that everyone in the room seems to be in on the situation at hand, you look back at Wooyoung in the reflection: still grinning with not a care in the world related to the topic.

'Play it cool,' you tell yourself with a deep inhale. “You do this often? Flirt with your stylists?”

“I wouldn't say often,” he responds plainly. “It's not unheard of, though.”

“You run off a lot of stylists?” you laugh, playfully pulling at his hair again.

“No,” he says, a certain cuteness taking his tone before leaning his head back against the headrest and looking up at you directly. “They don't run off.”

You want to be better. Stronger. Able to ignore it. Not to be like them, you don't flirt with idols you work with and you certainly don't sleep with them, either.

But you're guessing Wooyoung has plans for that, as well.

On the next Wednesday when filming runs late, with the majority of the staff having left, Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang are kept behind to refilm some shots. For only three members needing attention, and the normal staff for the group having to accompany the rest to their other schedules, you're left in charge of the three — along with their managers.

Which is simple enough: Yeosang, as off the wall nutty as he is, is relatively easy to work with, and Yunho being so kind and willing to do whatever it takes to make your job easier, you're only left with the one problem-child, as it were.

When filming for the three finally wraps at a quarter past one in the morning, you thank everyone for their time and willingness to accommodate you as they all head out to meet up with the rest of the members...until a PD comes in last minute once again and requests for another shoot for Wooyoung.

“It's fine, I'll catch up with you guys later,” he tells the rest, including his manager — tired and worn no doubt from a hectic schedule of, well, managing Wooyoung.

“How are you going to get home?” you ask him, confused about his dismissal of his handler as he hurriedly shakes his black and blonde hair free of the half ponytail it had been put into as they were leaving.

“I know how to get home, I'm an adult,” he laughs in response.

“I mean with the fans.”

“Oh,” he pauses, slipping on the shoes from wardrobe that they had had him in prior. “That's easy to deal with, honestly. Already scoped out the escape!”

For some reason, you don't even question that to be the truth. It sounds like something he would have already had planned.

“Are you leaving now?” he asks, rushing out towards the hallway, only lingering in the doorway long enough to catch your response.

And you know that deep down, you should — that the best way to avoid trouble, and subsequently Wooyoung, is to leave while he's caught up, with no chance of roping you into some nonsense that you wish you didn't want to be roped into.

But at the same time...what could it hurt?

What's a little adventure?

And the way that his lips curl at the response is devilish — has you second-guessing your choice already. Evidently, a man with an extremely devious plan that he has every intention of putting into action with the older stylist that he barely knows anything about.

Suddenly, you recall Hongjoong's words just a few days prior. A warning. 'Good luck.'

“Be back soon!” Wooyoung chimes, “and then we can get out of here.”

As if the 'we' wasn't bad enough, it's the way his bottom lip catches on his teeth as he exits the room, eyes locked with your own before disappearing into the madness of idol life once again.

You had sort of hoped that something would have come up that barred this scenario that you had originally agreed to. Now darting and weaving through dark, empty hallways of the entertainment building — quite possibly the last people in there that night besides overnight security, when Wooyoung finally brings you to the VIP entrance that he had briefly mentioned before, dual hearts sink at the sight just beyond the large, glass doors.

Pouring rain — unable to be heard from inside of the massive concrete building, but now plain as day in front of you, Wooyoung huffs at the sight, scanning the scattered construction equipment also littering the outdoors — not taken into account, but now definitely hurting the escape plan that had already been set into action.

“I guess we just make a run for it,” Wooyoung sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. “This wasn't really part of the plan, you know.”

“I gathered, but—“ you pause, bringing his attention down to the three bags of your heavy and also quite expensive belongings that you would rather not get soaking wet. “I'm not running anywhere, not well, at least.”

He huffs again, looking up again to stare back out of the window pane. “Well, we can't stay here, don't think we have much of a choice.”

You had already accepted the fact, but hearing the words only causes a pleading sigh to drop from you. “Yeah...where are we running towards, anyways? What's the plan?”

Bringing a hand up, Wooyoung points out towards what appears to be just large equipment for moving and storing concrete and other such things, before elaborating further.

“Across the parking lot and then across the street there's a small, 24-hour convenience store where we can wait and call a cab.”

“How is that safe?” you question, dumbfounded. “How is it safe for you to be seen running around in convenience stores in the middle of the night with a random woman?”

“No one is going to see us, first of all, the weather is terrible and no one knows about this exit,” he begins, “second of all, my friend owns the place, so we'll hang out in the employee lounge until it's time to go.”

You visibly frown at the plan, still worried about your work items, but Wooyoung catches it — gently placing his hand on your wrist just as he had the first time the both of you met.

“We'll...figure it out, okay? Trust me. But we gotta get out of here before security calls security.”

Darting through the doors, Wooyoung holds your hand tightly into his as the two of you slosh through the downpour of the great outdoors — cold and windier than you both had anticipated, when the wind catches you and the bulkiness of your belongings just right, Wooyoung tightens his grip even more as he feels you veer off of the trail. You call out to him once, pulling your things against you as best as you can and he only calls back, “I know!” before finding some sort of shelter where you can hide for the time being.

And once inside, you realize how cramped it is.

It's a totally spur of the moment decision obviously, and not much else to work with, you know this — crammed face to face between two metal sheets in an otherwise packed construction shed — but you're able to shrug your bags off of your shoulder and push them to the side with your foot to grant you a bit more space as you attempt to wring out your hair, dress, and cardigan.

Eventually, when Wooyoung comes back to mind, you look up at him — thin, wet, t-shirt clinging to every curve and dip of the muscle in his chest, hair windswept and just as wet as everything else — and you try not to take notice, or allow your eyes the freedom to trail down, because you remember that he left in sweatpants, and that's plenty good enough to go off of.

But with not much space between you and the hastiness in which you arrived, Wooyoung's thigh ends up not so gently crammed just between your legs.

You notice. You can't help but to notice, you can only hope that he doesn't.

However unlikely that may be.

The first violent shiver of the cold air taking the wetness of your body, you insist that Wooyoung ignores, and he does, at your request — but by the second, he's not so willing to listen to orders.

Taking you by the wrist, the man pulls you forward and against him, your hands only able to catch yourself on his shoulders to keep from falling completely flat against his body, and you have no choice but to force down the sound that being pulled up and along his leg threatens to elicit.

'Bite it back, bitch,' you tell yourself in thought.

“Don't be difficult, it's freezing out here,” Wooyoung finally says, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you pressed into him. “Keeping you from catching pneumonia isn't really my go-to move.”

You chuckle, the only thing you can do at the ridiculousness of the situation. Turning to look outside as the rain beats loudly against the shed that the both of you take shelter in, Wooyoung shifts again, causing the top of his thigh to press upwards and harder against you. Eyes screwing shut, you try to steady your breathing — it's so dumb, you think as the situation unfolds, feeling like a teenager who can't keep it in her pants but in a situation where it otherwise wouldn't be an issue if it weren't for the fact that the hot guy that you work with — who almost definitely wants to fuck you — is currently lodged against your pussy with either not a clue and therefore doesn't have the knowledge to keep still, or very much aware and no interest in keeping still.

You didn't even really want to know which one it was, you just had to wait for the rain to lighten up.

“Hey.”

You turn your head to match Wooyoung's gaze, air finally drying out his hair a bit to leave it more air dried than soaking wet. He looks good, you hate that.

“You ever hook up with anyone you worked with?”

Mind reader? Gross.

You choose to ignore the implications, answering in a way that doesn't satiate the curiosity that he's hoping for. “Yeah, I used to date a guy who worked for the same company I did before I went freelance.”

“That's not what I mean,” Wooyoung frowns. Of course he wouldn't let you get away with it. “I mean an idol. The talent.”

Clearing your throat, you find that your proximity to Wooyoung that once offered a comforting warmth was now emitting far more of a scalding heat, and with your palms pressed to his shoulders, you manage to free yourself from him slightly, back against the metal sheet behind you and creating space between you and the nosy man just in front of you.

“No, I have not.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know!” you snap, not angry but unsure of what it is that he's fishing for. “Just...never been in a situation where that was a realistic thing that could happen, I guess. It's not really something that I seek out. I'm there to work.”

“You've never wanted to?” Wooyoung then says, tone dropping slightly and a small shift of his leg. It's enough that you can ignore it, but with your face fully visible to him now, you're not sure how much you can fake it if he starts to catch on and get braver. “Never desired someone?”

He's extremely perceptive.

“And what about you?” you ask back, table turned to grant you some proverbial breathing room. “Hongjoong sure made it seem like this was the sort of thing you do often.”

“Hongjoong is terrible at keeping his mouth shut, that much is for sure,” Wooyoung chuckles, then reaching forward with one hand and finding the hem of your dress — pressed up the length of your thigh only slightly due to his own having your legs agape. “But he is right, I do like older women.”

“So you just hit on every stylist that comes into contact with you?” you laugh, trying to ignore the burning sensation of his fingers playing with the cloth on your thigh, or the way that his eyes are smoldering and locked onto you.

“No, of course not, I'd have had a reputation that you'd have heard of by now if that were the case.”

That was true.

“So no, hitting on the stylist isn't a first for me, if you must know,” he adds coyly, hand now slowly sliding up and against your bare skin. You freeze against his touch. Is this really happening? Here? Now?

“I play with a lot of them for fun, and they play with me, but rarely does it leave the fitting room.”

You swallow hard, and when he shifts again suddenly you aren't prepared — his words, his touch, it's all too distracting for when the press against you comes — breath hitching in your throat for a split second before biting your lip in an attempt to pull the involuntary reaction back.

Too late, though.

Wooyoung looks down, seeing the positioning of his leg between your own and finally makes the connection with a devilish grin — looking up at you from through eyelashes, he hums in response, hand that had once begun a journey up your leg now stilled at the outer side, fingers playfully dipping into the elastic of your panties as if having a plan in mind all along.

“Oh, I see,” he sing-songs at you, deliberately pushing up and into you for the first time, and it certainly makes the difference — your head falling back against the steel lightly. “You know it's funny, I genuinely did not mean to do that.”

“Don't laugh,” you sigh out, now on your last leg of having the composure to not give in to him, and to yourself. “I'm not going to have sex with you, I don't have sex with clientele.”

Humming again, the man begins a steady, slow pace of flexing his thigh up and against you, hand coming around to feel what he can of you that isn't taken up by the space of his leg, and with his fingertip only finding slick wetness that water doesn't have, he smiles again.

“Fine,” he responds with a tone that's only just above a whisper. “But I can still make you come.”

“Shut up,” you whimper out, knowing that your resolve is falling away with every second that you're near him and even faster with every word that he says. You say that you won't fuck him, but truth be told: you're not completely convinced of it yourself. “I—, I—“ you attempt to say, always cut off by the way he feels against you, and even distracted by the lone finger that gently rubs at you from the side as best as he can.

You open your eyes, an attempt to come back down to earth from how quickly you're giving yourself up to this man, but your eyes immediately drop to catch the protrusion in his sweatpants — still wet and fabric clinging to the girth, you swallow hard and bring your eyes back up fast.

That knowledge was the last thing you needed if you were to make any sort of strong attempt not to have sex with him.

“Like what you see?” Wooyoung says playfully, a nod to the silly line often heard in comedies or pornography.

Unfortunately, you do.

You feel him shifting again, having to mull up the braves to allow your eyes to fall back down that way to find out what it was he was up to, and once the courage is mustered, you grant it to yourself.

It was a mistake.

“God,” is all you whisper out at the sight — Wooyoung's beautiful hand wrapped loosely around himself, lazily stroking in time with the ministrations of his leg up and against you, and it's all just a little bit too much.

“Watch,” he says, this time no jest in his voice and the pace of his thigh picking up just slightly. “You don't want to watch me?”

In the moment, you think that you would literally not ever want to watch anything other than that ever again.

Eyes coming back down, first to meet his own — half-lidded and mouth slightly parted, a beautiful sight before you, the visual of him palming over himself for your viewing pleasure — getting off on nothing else but the sight of you riding his leg.

The visual serves to be more stimulating than you'd have liked to admit, feeling the familiar bubbling in your abdomen, you try to find something that you can brace your hands on to give yourself more leverage — since the both of you are now resigned to letting this moment play out — and Wooyoung catches on quickly, choking out a “use me,” between steady, rhythmic pumps of his fist along himself.

You lean forward, hands on his shoulders again — now able to feel him work himself beneath you as you rut against his leg and if you weren't already so worked up, you might have been embarrassed about how quickly your orgasm approaches you.

“W—Wooyoung, I—“

“Good, good girl,” he groans, rhythm of his arm beginning to give out at the implications of your orgasm fast approaching, but it's the next words that truly wreck you. More than you may have ever anticipated outside of that singular moment in time.

“Use me.”

And it breaks you. Orgasm washing over you — it's not particularly hard or overwhelming, the circumstances not exactly granting themselves to having an earth shattering sexual experience, but Wooyoung follows you shortly after — high pitched whine escaping him as his eyes screw shut, ropes of cum painting his fisted fingers as he gently finishes himself just next to you.

Taking his messy hand from himself and into your own, you bring it up and to your lips, the man before you catching on quickly despite a hazy come down and shortened breath; two of his fingers part your lips and press inside shallowly at first, then slightly deeper as he feels the way that your tongue wraps around him to clean his cum from them.

All the while with unbroken eye contact, when Wooyoung finishes imagining the way that your mouth would feel around his cock, he snorts, pulling his hand from you and grinning.

“Nah,” he begins, gently attempting to dislodge himself from between your legs. “You're definitely going to fuck me.”

With two weeks down after that late night stuck in the rain, without so much as a single sly comment about the goings on of that evening, you resign yourself to the understanding that he had gotten the interest out of his system.

And you suppose now, with the imminent danger of potentially going where you've never gone before and crossing that line, you can admit to yourself that deep down, you're a little disappointed in that fact. He had made quite the compelling case, after all.

And a beautiful cock, at that.

You do, however, find it charming that his behavior never really changes towards you. Even in spite of the bizarre intimacy that comes with watching the other come without having ever so much as shared a kiss, Wooyoung plops himself into your stylist chair just as he always has — hair a mess and tank top a bit too loose for your liking given your coming to terms with not ever having sex with him, you allow yourself one good look across the expanse of skin he's happy to show, and even with knowing that he sit in the reflection watching your eyes rake over him with a slight curl of his lip, you still can't help yourself.

Besides, what's one more good look? It's not the only part of him you've seen.

Tapping on his phone as you begin brushing into his hair from behind, Wooyoung asks you how you are today, just as normal. No suspicious tone, seemingly no ulterior motive.

“The same as always, how are you?” you respond, still tugging at the strands.

“Better now that I get to see my work wife,” he quickly responds, as if the entire premise of the conversation had simply been a set up for him to lay this one on you.

And if his intent was to trip you up, you were ashamed at how well it worked, freezing up instantly just before shaking it loose and carrying on. “Work wife? Is it okay that you joke like that?”

“Why not?” Wooyoung chuckles, looking up at you through the reflection of the mirror in front. “Also, your legs look crazy in those jeans.”

Heat rushing to your face, not wanting to look to either side at whether or not another stylist or member is listening in on the conversation, you lean down toward him and rush to a whisper. “Okay you definitely can't say that!”

“Of course not,” Wooyoung whispers back, turning his head just an inch to nearly meet your skin with his mouth. “Let me see you.”

Instantaneously, you pull back from him — back into working position and fight back the embarrassment of what's taking place. Wooyoung only grins again, looking back down to his phone and not pushing the topic any further.

When the guys begin exiting the room one by one to begin shooting, Wooyoung exits last, but not before stuffing his hand into the back pocket of your pants and maintaining a knowing eye contact with you for far too long.

You want to think that he left something in your pocket, but knowing him, just wanting to touch your ass isn't a possibility you can completely write off.

When the rest of the staff leave besides the other stylists, you manage to pull away just enough to check your pocket, feeling the presence of a small slip of paper — clearly what Wooyoung had intended on you finding, with a phone number scribbled on it. Nothing else.

Sure, you wish to be stronger than to give into the allure of the sexy, younger guy that you work with, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said that you weren't delighted at the prospect that he had not, in fact, lost interest just yet.

>you: hey, it's me.

It's all you send. Playing it cool and not at all desperate being paramount in this exchange now in order to maintain your dignity.

After all, you said you wouldn't have sex with him and now here you are, texting him knowing fully well that that is precisely what he's after. Perhaps you just needed a push in the right direction, but not without being able to feign a lack of interest, first.

It's only fifteen minutes later that he responds, and given you know they're recording, you expected it to be longer.

>big trouble: who is this? who is me?

You roll your eyes, but immediately move to reply.

>you: you know who, the woman whose ass you just groped so that I would contact you.

The signal of his typing pops up just as quickly.

>big trouble: you'll have to be more specific :p

He begins typing again.

>big trouble: kidding, what do you have me saved as in your phone? don't use my name!!

>you: oh darn I actually had it saved as group name plus full name and flashed it around when you replied, is that going to be a problem?

You become hyper aware of how you're smiling at your phone in the presence of other people, you try to bite it back as to not raise any awareness, but relatively unsuccessful in doing so.

He is so fucking charming, and fuck if you didn't enjoy his company.

A few more minutes pass before he begins typing again, close to ten when a response finally comes through.

>big trouble: sorry replies are gonna be spotty until we get out of here. let me see you.

You realize now, upon him saying it to you again — that you're not even entirely sure of what he means by that. See you: naked? Date? Outside of here? Too many options to just assume, but you also hate to ask — stomach bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of what it could mean, you realize that even you have to figure out just what, exactly, your intentions are with this guy.

But if you want to know something, all you can do is ask.

>you: what do you mean “see me”

Immediate typing again.

>big trouble: not at work, preferably with your legs over my shoulders and my face buried in your pussy.

Locking your phone you immediately press it face down and into the couch cushion next to you. Inhaling deeply, you close your eyes for a second to recollect yourself; steady breathing, and desperately trying to ignore the ache growing between your legs from just a single line of text.

You feel your phone vibrate again and can't even be sure you're ready to read whatever insane thing he's sent next, but suppose you can't just leave him on read. Not on that note.

Not when you're particularly interested in the proposition yourself.

Slowly picking your cell back up, carefully looking around to make sure no one can spy in — now not necessarily about it being who you're texting but generally speaking sexting is frowned upon in professional settings — you illuminate the screen to confirm that the incoming message is indeed, from him.

You open it.

>big trouble: i'm flexible though, actually hope you are too <3

Sick with how you can hear his tongue in cheek tone even through text, you get it together enough to finally begin typing out a response — not entirely sure what to say, given you don't necessarily want to agree to doing anything with the man just yet, and especially not like this.

>you: is that a good idea?

With some time having passed since his reply, you know that he's probably off working again — setting your phone down you exhale heavily, leaning your head back against the couch.

But all you can think about is Wooyoung's sandwiched between your thighs.

The buzzing from your phone brings you back, and you open it in more of a hurry than maybe you would have liked — much too eager to find the next insane thing that the man has to say to you.

>big trouble: oh no it definitely isn't

>big trouble: that's kind of the fun of it though

>big trouble: get into a little trouble with me, but i'll make it worth your time if you let me

You don't doubt him for even a second. Another text comes in.

>big trouble: I think you want to play with me, like a little bit

In the moment, the only thing that you can offer in response is that you'll think about it, still not completely willing to give yourself up to the desire of having him, or letting him have you — an obvious conquest of sorts on his end, of which he seemingly stacks up notches on his bed post — but you need time to decide if you're willing to make peace with being just that in exchange for getting what it is that you want from him, anyways.

Mutually beneficial? Absolutely. You just have to decide if the juice is worth the squeeze.

Two days out from wrapping filming, backstage is hectic — corridors lined with people running back and forth, darting in and out of rooms and racks of clothing and shoes serving as a make shift obstacle course everywhere you go, it's nothing you're not used to, and despite working for ATEEZ as a group, in ways you found yourself assuming the position as Wooyoung's handler in particular — occasionally Hongjoong's as well, enjoying his quips and stories as sort of an old soul in the body of a young man who took comfort in placing himself in otherwise awkward scenarios between you and the man you were almost definitely going to have sex with — you could only assume that Hongjoong had caught wind, and not because Wooyoung told him, but because he was quick on the uptake.

And he found it humorous.

Winding through the halls pushing the both of them out and ahead of you towards where they need to go, it's Hongjoong first who greets the senior idol exiting their dressing room to the left, then Wooyoung, and then you.

But you know them already.

One of the idols of the groups that you already get on with quite well, it's a friendly greeting, and you certainly can feel Wooyoung watching it all too intently — as if trying to poke a hole in a story once told to him in fabrication.

Saying your goodbyes, the three of you push forward again, not long before reaching just back stage and to your destination. You pull Hongjoong first, doing some last minute touches on his hair and eye makeup before sending him on his way, then Wooyoung — pouting like a baby as you press fingers into the sides of his hair that had fallen and now needed retouching.

“Oh geez, what?” you huff out quietly, thankful for the goings on around you that no one would hear you even if any one had time to stop and eavesdrop on the conversation.

“You two were cozy, huh?” he says — playfully, but you think it might be a ruse.

Wiping excess hair wax from his temple and shoving a clip into your mouth due to lack of hands, you look him dead in the eyes. “Wooyoung, I haven't slept with him, oh my God—“ you exasperate, slicking more product into his head, “and even if I had, none of your business.”

You watch as his eyes narrow, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at your bitter words and begins to curl his lips into a smile just before telling him that he's finished and to go do his job.

“I know,” he says under his breath, leaning forward momentarily. “Was just hoping to hear the story if there was one.”

It's sinister in tone, like he's already getting off a little on the prospect of hearing about you getting fucked by another man, and the more you think of it in that split second, the less you would even be surprised if that had been the case. But Wooyoung continues to look at you as he steps backwards and towards where it is he needs to go — a display of power, in ways.

You're not sure you could run this guy off if you tried.

Hours later into the evening and close to midnight, you just about finish packing up your things, placing bags by the door next to all of the other stylists and managers items also eager and ready to head off and get rest before the last day of filming before you catch from the corner of your eye — phone laid out on the table and face up, illuminated in the dim lighting of a room soon to no longer be occupied for the day. Stretching your arm out and reaching towards it, almost immediately you recognize the length of name on the screen that alerts you of who it is that's contacting you.

You glance around yourself, just to be sure.

>big trouble: let me see you tonight.

Stomach jumping into your chest, to say yes to him is a big step. You're aware that at any point in time you can rescind said yes, but all the same — even just the logistics of getting him into your place to begin with comes with it's own set of worries and challenges and truth be told; you hadn't put any thought into such a plan.

But you still kind of wanted to.

>you: how?

He begins typing just as quickly as your response sends.

>big trouble: i'll take my managers car, just say yes if it's yes don't worry about the rest.

Realistically you know that it's him on the line. Sure, it wouldn't look great for you as a freelancer if it started getting around that you take home men from work, but not nearly the same career expectations are in place. You take a second to mull it over before attempting to respond. He sends another text through in the meantime.

>big trouble: please if I have to see you in those jeans again and not suffocate in your cunt I think i'll fucking die.

You appreciate his eagerness, as does the throb between your legs in anticipation. He sure knows how to talk to a lady.

And despite the reluctance, you give in, sending over your address in the next text, along with the demand that if he not be there by 12:30am to not bother showing up at all, it's a long work day the next one, after all.

An immediate reply again, you pull your bags onto your arms and head out of the doorway before reading his response.

>big trouble: I have every intention of putting you to sleep.

When 12:18am ticks on the oven clock in your kitchen, one glass of wine down in anticipation and an attempt to calm your nerves, you start to assume that he's not coming. Perhaps he had come to his senses, or got held up and wasn't able to make it.

But just as suddenly as the thought comes to you, a buzzing on your door sounds, and your heart drops to your stomach — bubbling in anxiety and the possibility of what's going to happen now. Now that the both of you will be properly alone. Now that...he's here, and with hours to spare.

Setting the glass down onto the table, you clear your throat and make your way towards the door, checking the peep hole despite knowing precisely who it is that you will find — it's charming, in a way: Wooyoung standing there in baseball cap and mask, heavily bundled in an attempt to not be found out on his naughty little rendezvous. He's brave, you gotta give it to him.

Opening the door slowly, Wooyoung slips in, pulling both adornments from his head before you're even able to close the door completely, then moving to kick his shoes off. He looks at you, shrugging his jacket off and placing it onto the rack just next to him.

“I can't believe you're still wearing those fucking jeans.”

And as taken aback as you are by it being the first words to leave his mouth upon entering your apartment, more than that, you're taken by being immediately pushed back and towards the couch — his eyes flat and narrow and completely darkened by lust as your behind eventually finds the cushion and Wooyoung immediately falls to his knees between your legs.

Pulling himself up and beginning to grapple with the button and zipper of your jeans, he leans up and finally kisses you — for the first time, you're reminded again — plush, hot lips messily pressing into your own, it's evident just in that contact alone how much he's been wanting this moment, greedy and quick and not at all making a point of taking his time before pulling away to loosen the fabric from your legs and toss it elsewhere on the floor beside him.

Wooyoung comes back up, kissing you again and just as hungrily as before — feeling his fingers dip into the elastic hip of your panties, before once again pulling back to release those of you as well.

He breaks the cycle then, bringing up the flat of his fingers against your pussy to feel the heat radiating off of your skin before looking up at you and resuming said cycle — pressing his mouth hard against yours again, trailing down the corner and along your jaw — teeth grazing lightly against the skin as the tip of his middle finger gently dips between your folds to tease at you. Breath hitching in your throat at the contact, you feel him grin into your skin.

“W—Wooyoung,” you choke out, intensity of the situation all consuming and somehow more heavy set than you had even expected.

“What?”

But you forget what it was you were even planning on saying once his finger makes proper contact with your clit — perhaps it was nothing, just an airy exasperation of his name altogether, but just as quickly as everything else the man between your legs pulls from you and pulls you down by the legs, ass edging on the side of the sofa and propping your legs up on his shoulders just as he had said he would — wasting no time thereafter going to work on you.

And you didn't expect him to be lying about what he would or wouldn't do if given the opportunity, but his eagerness right then and there — tongue pressing hard circles into your clit just before applying ample suction against you with his lips, not unwilling to make a mess of himself in the process and, from what you can tell, all the more delighted in doing so as his face glistens with each time that he pulls away to reposition — with eyes screwed shut and one arm tossed over your face in an attempt to stay grounded, the other reaches down, finding its way along the top of his head, fingers curling into hair that only hours earlier you were neatly decorating and clipping into place — hair now entangled and tightly gripped as Wooyoung makes alarmingly quick work of your body from your living room floor.

Bringing a hand up, he delicately presses one finger in, finding little resistance, and adds a second upon his following drive into you. Hand pumping into you at a slow, almost excruciating pace, Wooyoung focuses all of the attention on sucking you harder, faster with the way that your breaths pick up and become weaker, whines higher pitched than before — and if you weren't close before, the additional stimulation gets you climbing that peak all that much faster, gripping hard into his hair as you whimper out his name again, this time far more broken than the time previously.

But like a good man, he doesn't stop — bringing his eyes up to watch as you fall apart above him, you open your eyes only briefly to take in the sight, his eyes smiling back at you with the pretty little adornment of the beauty mark just beneath one.

You cuss, grinding hard down and against his mouth, and come undone against him just like that. Wooyoung sucks you through your orgasm, shallowly pressing fingers into you before removing them altogether as your high dissipates. Chest heaving, you lie in the afterglow of your peak, eyes still closed from exhaustion in the aftermath.

Wooyoung chuckles from between your legs. Cracking open your eyes, you find him settled back and on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looks at you with unbridled satisfaction.

“I've been dying to do that,” he finally says, leaning forward and snaking the palms of his hands up your bare thighs, thumbs catching on the hem of your shirt and pressing upwards with insistence that you allow him to remove it. You grant him the access, pulling your back off of the couch long enough for him to pull the fabric up and over your head and watching as he happily tosses it elsewhere before leaning down and pressing his mouth against your own again.

The kiss is brief though, before a man on a mission makes his way back down from where he came but with stops along the journey — nimble hands reaching around the back of you and working to remove your bra — before you even have a moment to settle, plump, warm lips and tongue press into your now exposed flesh and the feeling of him; so encompassing and overwhelming has you squirming in desire beneath him as if you hadn't just come already.

“I need you,” he whispers into your skin, tongue circling your nipple between commentary. “Please, I need to feel you so bad, you drive me crazy.”

You're not sure what it is, the unabashed neediness or just the fact that it's him or maybe even the combination of the two — a man so young and famous and sexy that he could have anyone he desired and yet right now, in this moment, he makes you feel as though the only person or thing he's ever desired so badly in his life...is you.

It's as if the burning throb of arousal never even left you.

“Noona, please.”

It wasn't typically something that did it for you, and in fact, you never understood why it really 'did it' for anyone — but you had to be honest, it was working for you now.

Needy whining, begging, spilling from Wooyoung as his mouth lingers across the expanse of exposed skin. You ask him to take his shirt off and he follows through immediately, only to come back up to pick up where he had left off, but the feeling of his own hot skin against your own only serving to light you up even further.

“Switch places,” you whisper to him, and he follows order without question, pulling up quickly and allowing you space between his legs. Palms grazing over the top of his thighs, you smile up at him at the sight before you. “Same sweats as that one night?”

“Coincidence,” he answers, voice already slightly broken at the implications of what's to come, so you waste no time gripping into the waistband of his pants and pulling down his legs, freeing him and finally becoming more acquainted with what it was that had your interest really piqued since that night only a couple of weeks prior.

“Don't seem so tough now, you know,” you mock, taking his length into your hand and lazily pumping him, his eyes glued to the way you make contact on him.

“Wait until I get you in the bedroom,” he answers, tone lower and less broken now — as if snapping back to reality to assert some form of dominance that had never really had a place in the interaction prior.

You inch forward, taking him into your mouth shallowly, tongue wrapping circles along the tip as he melts into your mouth — both hands coming forward to hold onto your hair. He's not rough, and not assuming the pace, but with every press down of your mouth along him you take him deeper and deeper, his mouth dropping open just that much more at the feeling of your warmth along his shaft.

“Feel so good, you feel so good,” he chants under his breath as you bob along him — a steady rhythm but not so fast with intent to get him there, Wooyoung's head falls back to take in the feeling. “That's it baby, you take it so well.”

The praise has your pussy throbbing all over again, pace on his cock quickening unbeknownst to you just at the prospect of what other filthy things will fall from those beautiful lips.

So, you play along.

Pulling off of him briefly and replacing the sensation with your hand, you look up at him, quickly fisting him and occasionally licking a circle around the tip. “Yeah? That why you like older women? Like the experience?”

Wooyoung groans at the words as if you accidentally stumbled upon some kink that he hadn't made you all that privy to to begin with, hips bucking up into your hand as his eyebrows furrow, “Yeah, know your way around a cock, don't you?”

“I do,” you answer, stuffing him back into your mouth without warning and taking him down a few times just to listen to him groan deeply at the sight and sensation before pulling back up. “Hoping I fucked that guy back there just so you could be sure?”

“Little bit,” he chuckles through a whine as you continue to jerk him off along side the conversation. “Kinda like hearing about it, too.”

“Nasty boy,” you tease in reply, licking a stripe up his shaft before circling around the head of his cock again and watching the way his eyes roll back.

But just as suddenly, Wooyoung snaps forward, pulling your hand off of him and standing up to pull you with him towards the bedroom. “This one?” he asks, simultaneously shoving you inside of it as if the answer you provided wouldn't have matter to begin with, but you assure him that it is, in fact, the correct room as he continues pulling you towards the bed — turning to lie himself on it first before reaching for your wrist and pulling you down to straddle his hips.

You assume the position, grinding gently against his length as he brings you into a sloppy kiss again, you pull off of him not long thereafter, hands flat against his chest as you slide against him.

“All this talk just so I can ride you, eh? Lazy boy,” you say with the same teasing voice as before.

But Wooyoung shakes his head, hands quickly making their way up the length of your thighs and settling on your waist as you hover above his aching cock.

“I just have to see you ride my cock, please, I'll fuck you stupid afterwards, I'll have you begging for it, baby—“ he pleads, one hand slipping down between the two of you to align himself with your entrance, other hand gently pulling you down onto his shaft as he continues on. “—Wanted me to fill you up that night, but I'll do it tonight instead.”

It's an unfortunate giveaway the way his words have such an affect on you, already nearly fully seated on him when the nasty implications of the plans he has for you that evening drop from his sinful lips — walls clenching hard around him, so much so that he groans at the feeling as you sink down to fully take him in. Wooyoung's fingers dig into the skin of your hips as you gently begin to rock against him, thick girth of him tugging at you in all of the ways that you knew it would when you saw it — so full and stretched that even the slightest movement pulls at your clit as you ride him ever so delicately. You whimper shortly thereafter at the feeling he provides you, your nails now digging into the skin of his chest as he watches the space between the both of your hips — watching how your cunt struggles to accommodate his size and yet does so regardless, he allows his head to fall back against the mattress, taking in the feeling of the moment as you bite back your pathetic, flustered, sounds.

“Feel so good, baby,” he finally says, rubbing your thighs as you attempt to ride him to any useful degree. “Is it what you wanted? When you thought about it, is it better?” he adds, pressing his hips up ever so slightly to meet your own as you drop down onto him, a louder hiss dropping from you at the added friction.

“Awww,” he coos teasingly as he watches the way you struggle on top of him. “Mommy's good at talking but not so good at taking it, huh?”

You're not proud of the way that sentence goes straight to your pooling arousal.

And just as quickly, Wooyoung pulls you off of him to switch you places, pressing your back to the mattress as he adjusts himself between your legs.

“I can come in you?” he asks suddenly, and it feels almost random, as if breaking scene in a film. So sudden that you almost don't catch it, but coming back to reality, you nod.

“Uh, y—yeah.”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” he replies, leaning back down and pressing his chest into your own to kiss you — head of his cock teasingly dangling just against your pussy and occasionally grazing your sensitive clit, you press your hips up and into him in an attempt to make the contact that you want, Wooyoung chuckling devilishly against the skin of your chin and neck as you struggle to achieve what you set out for.

“Not as good at taking my cock as I thought you'd be,” he playfully pouts, lips attaching into the skin just at the juncture of your neck and shoulder to suck red and purple blotches into it. “But mommy, you were supposed to be so good.”

The tone in which the words drop from his lips, quite evidently mocking, playful, toying with you and the idea of the age play of it all. You knew that this was part of it for him, you had been warned.

But you didn't know it was going to do it for you, in addition.

“Guess we have to try again,” he whispers, lips trailing up a bit higher and just under your ear. “Probably better off if I'm in control, huh?”

With that, Wooyoung begins his slow drive into you once again — for a man that talks so much about your inability to take him, and being in control, you find his attention to your comfort almost surprising — not taking it quickly and giving you ample time to adjust to the intrusion even in spite of it not being the first time that night that you had taken him, once bottomed out, he settles for a few moments; kissing and sucking along your neck, along with babbling words of affirmation and encouragement all the while before pulling his hips back and slowly pressing forward once again.

The fullness of him is almost stifling, though — and paired with the fact that he won't shut the fuck up through it.

Five or six more delicate drives into you and Wooyoung begins to settle into a more fluid pace, rocking his hips against your own with hard impact but not entirely quick, every push of his cock into you more brutal than the last as he hovers above you and watches the way your face contorts with glee.

“Look at you, so good,” he groans in between snaps of his hips, hands flat against the mattress and on either side of your head to watch the way your cunt takes him. “Aww, I was wrong, you take my cock so well, I knew you would.”

Clenching hard around him with praise, your hands clasp around his arms, nails digging into the tan, hot skin with every drive of himself against you — the sound of wet skin against skin reverberating through your bedroom, and more than that, the sight of Wooyoung's bottom lip sucked up and between his teeth — arms and chest flexing with every movement of his hips.

The familiar feeling of your impending orgasm felt building once again at a particularly hard thrust from him, you cry out, catching his attention. Wooyoung slows, not entirely sure of how to take the sound, but is just as quickly met with your babbling and begging of him not to stop, to which he grins and resumes his rough pace into you.

Leaning down and wrapping an arm up and under your shoulder for more leverage to pull your body down and against him, chest to chest like this, Wooyoung continues his previous ministrations on your skin with his mouth, nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck, collar bones, jaw and mouth as he fucks hard into you — harder now with the positioning, you cry out again and louder even, much to his delight.

“Fuck, Wooyoung—“ you whisper against his mouth, feeling your orgasm threatening in the not so distant future.

“Yeah baby?” he coos back, so gentle in tone and completely opposing the brutality of the way he's fucking you. “Gonna come? Gonna come for me? Just from my cock, nothing else?”

You nod wildly, the way he's talking to you bringing you to the edge even faster — muscles tightening in your abdomen and losing the ability to verbally communicate to much extent at all.

“Good, good, you're so good,” he babbles into your skin, grip on your shoulder tightening even more. “Love it when you say my name, God you're so perfect.”

You whine, pulling forward to press your mouth into his shoulder just in front of you.

“Want me to come inside of you now? Make you mine? You know I want to so bad, want to fill you up so bad.”

Your insides twist at the way he's nearly begging to, despite already having been given the go ahead to do so. All a part of the game, you figure.

It's working, though.

You nod again, but Wooyoung brings his free hand over and to your clit, taking it between his fingers and thumb to force you into eye contact with him.

“Gotta say it, noona, can you say it for me?”

Your fingers dig into him harder, you're reaching inevitability much faster than you had originally intended with the way that he's talking to you, and the anticipation of just what it is he'll say next.

You knew he was gonna be a wild ride, but you didn't anticipate him to be this much of a freak.

“God, noona, please say it, please noona say you want me to come in you, I want to so bad.”

“Wooyoung, Jesus, I'm gonna—“

But he stills, cock buried deep inside of you as you whine at the loss of your incoming peak, shocked at the fact that he would do it.

You're not proud of your next step, either.

“Wooyoung, please, please, don't stop—“ you beg, trying to fuck yourself onto him in an attempt to reach your orgasm, and he does start a drive into you again, albeit much more delicate and less hearty than previous.

“Wow, so whiny,” he chides against your ear, shallowly thrusting into your soaking wet cunt with no intention behind it at all. “I'll give you what you want noona — thick, young, cock to come around, yeah?” he whispers, the words sending chills down your spine paired with the way that the tip of his length dips in and out of you teasingly.

“That what you want?” he whispers again.

“Yes,” you whine in response.

“Want me to come in you too, don't you?” he adds, nose nuzzling into the side of your face as he begins a proper push of his length back inside of you. “Fill you up? Pump a nice, hot load into your tight little cunt?”

It's the first time in the night that his dirty talk had been so lewd, so filthy. Slow drive of his cock back into you and even with the tiniest friction that it provides, just the words alone have you building back up to that place that only moments ago he had stripped from you just as quickly.

You'll do and say anything, now.

“Yes, Wooyoung, please,” you whisper, his hips snapping into you two, three times at the words. “Please daddy—“

The both of you stop as a point of both shock and confusion, neither expecting the word dropping out so suddenly, and not one typically on your repertoire, but Wooyoung seems to take it happily and in stride with an accompanying small giggle, quickly falling into the role that is required of him and driving hard against your hips at the pace once lost all over again — teeth baring against your cheek as he does so.

“Daddy? Well I wasn't planning on it but if you want it so bad,” Wooyoung grits out, reaching down with one hand and pulling one of your legs up and out. “I can fuck a baby into you, too. That why you want me to fill you up so bad? Want me to give you one?”

“Oh my God, Wooyoung, I—“ you groan, nails digging so hard into his skin that you fear you may actually hurt him, muscles in your abdomen tightening so suddenly, so hardly that it takes you by surprise — thick cock still pounding hard into you at an even better angle now, and Wooyoung begins kissing against your skin again.

“Feel so good around me, God, noona, come for me baby, milk me dry, wanna feel you come around my dick.”

muscles locking up, sound catching in your throat, your orgasm rips through your body with little more warning and nearly silently — stilling beneath the man as he continues to fuck you through your high, chasing his own and praising you through it as you do.

“Gonna come baby,” he groans at the impending orgasm of his own. Pulling up and off of you slightly he looks back down between the two of you before meeting your fucked out gaze again and screwing his own eyes shut. “Fuck, noona, fuck you full of me, God I'll ruin this pussy, yeah?”

Two, three more drives into you, Wooyoung buries his cock deep before stilling, head dropping as he growls through his release into you — gentle, shallow thrusts accompanying him as he begins to pull himself out of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ he whispers as he finally expels his body from yours completely at the feeling of the overstimulation on his dick, flopping over onto the side of you and clenching his eyes shut for a moment as he attempts to steady his breathing in the aftermath.

Even having had more time to settle than him, you're not that much better off.

Silence takes the room beyond heavy breathing, you look over to take in the sight of the light sheen of sweat adorning the man's beautiful body, unsure if you'll ever even get the chance to enjoy this again — if you were to want to, that is. Wooyoung cards his fingers through black and gold hair, pulling most off of his slick forehead before turning to you to meet your gaze. Somewhat embarrassed upon having been caught looking at him, he only smiles gently, as if to tell you that it's okay. That the two of you are past such silly formalities, as it were.

“Hey,” you whisper, searching for his stray hand among the crumpled sheets beneath you.

“Yeah?”

“You're kind of a sicko, you know that?”

Wooyoung laughs, so much so and with such a dry throat that it sends him into a coughing fit as a result. You reach for a bottled water that you have on your nightstand and hand it to him for him to lubricate with, clearing his throat and handing the bottle back to you before attempting to respond to such accusations.

“Maybe so,” he finally says. “But you sure liked it. What's that say about you?”

“Who knows,” you reply, staring at the ceiling as if soul searching for the answers to such questions. “Maybe we're just particularly, disgustingly matched.”

“Maybe so.” Wooyoung nods, adjusting comfortably into the bed beneath him.

On the last day of filming, everything carries on as normal.

You're not entirely sure what story Wooyoung told the others as to why he never came home last night — having slept the rest of the night with you and the two of you having to devise quite the plan to leave from the same place and arrive to the same place without anyone being in on the pick up, but you figure that you manage with no bizarre or questioning looks upon your entry — and Wooyoung already seated and waiting, ready for you to begin to get to work on him.

As he ticks away on his phone, you lean down towards his head questioningly.

“Did you use my shampoo?”

“What was I supposed to use?”

“Probably not the thing that smells like me?”

You watch in the reflection as he stops for a moment to mull the concept over, quite evidently having not thought about it prior to this moment, only to shrug and go back to typing on his phone.

After shooting wraps and everyone is saying their goodbyes, you thank the members and their staff for the warm welcoming and all of their help to make sure that the work environment was comfortable and smooth for you. For Hongjoong and Wooyoung especially — who you worked with most closely — the two hug you, sending you on your way, but not before Hongjoong makes some snide comment about finally being able to escape Wooyoung.

It was true, that you would finally escape the grip of that man, however, wanting to escape? You weren't so sure.

Gently tossing your belongings into the back of a taxi, you climb in and pull your seatbelt over you, reaching towards your purse and pulling out your phone to see what your next schedule would be for the upcoming weeks, only to find a text on your phone that had come in hours prior.

>big trouble: let me see you again (not just sex way)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ hope you enjoyed! please check out my navigation for more (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

#wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic

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necessiteez · 14 days

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HONGJOONG SMUT FIC RECS LIBRARY

✦ Secret Room ✦

disclaimer: I do not own any of these works and they do not represent the real kim hongjoong. all rights belong to the respective writers who made them.

all pairings are hongjoong x reader only.

further info is already stated in the main Library.

this is a special section reserved for works with kinks heavily influencing the story

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First Time - whatudowhennoneseesyou (1k)

Thunder - barbzberry on ao3 (wc 2k)

Face Sitting - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

「 ✦ DILF ✦ 」

Kinktober Day 25 - ateezreactionsandscenarios (wc 3k)

In Vino Veritas - pirateprincessblog (wc 7k)

Not Just A Dream - ja3honey (wc 1.12k)

「 ✦ Sir Kink ✦ 」

Definitely Not a Dream - ja3honey (wc 2k)

Love Me Like Your Favourite Dream - ja3honey (wc 5k)

Tease feat. San - hongism (wc 4.5k)

Demon's Prize - crimsonbubble

7:48 - crimsonbubble

Just For Me - hongcherry (wc 9.9k)

Take It feat. Seonghwa- crimsonbubble

「 ✦ Breeding ✦ 」

Please - mountainsluna (wc 1k)

Breeding - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Kinktober Day 8 - multiwreckedmess (wc 900)

The Shoe on the Other Foot - broatz (wc 3k)

「 ✦ Corruption Kink ✦ 」

All Mine - hongthoven (wc 2.6k)

Whole Other Level - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Not Ready Yet - liara586 on ao3 (wc 1.8k)

Hidden - latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 3.5k)

「 ✦ Voyeurism ✦ 」

Consensual Voyeurism feat. Wooyoung, Seonghwa- sanjoongie (wc 3.7k)

Three A.M. - Abiaswreck on ao3 (wc 2.9k)

+ Toys - oceanlix (wc 1.9k)

「 ✦ Size Kink ✦ 」

Baby Girl - mountainsluna (wc 1.5k)

「 ✦ Mirrors ✦ 」

Mirrors - tohokuu (wc 700)

「 ✦ Car Sex ✦ 」

Sunrise - xoexoxhoe

Mist - hongthoven (wc 4.5k)

Beach Parking - nateezfics (wc 1.3k)

Making Partner includes other members- bro-atz (wc 27k)

Don't Drive and Day Dream - ja3honey (wc 1.8k)

[*** banner unfinished ***]

「 ✦ Somnophilia ✦ 」

+ free use (untitled) - almightyddeonghwa (wc 800)

「 ✦ Feminization ✦ 」

Yummy - bobateastay (wc 3k)

Bubblegum Bitch male reader- pyeonghongrie (wc 2.4k)

FFF Day 4 - sanjoongie (wc 2k)

FFF Day 24 - sanjoongie (wc 1.3k)

Ateez in Skirts - sanjoongie (wc 1k)

「 ✦ Noona ✦ 」

Knockin' on Heaven's Door - Yellow Beacon on a03 (wc 9k)

Watch Your Mouth - Atiny-Piratequeen on ao3 (wc 800)

One More Knight multi-chapter- Yellow Beacon on ao3 (wc 78k)

「 ✦ Public/Semi-Public ✦ 」

HJ and a Latte - drwayward on ao3 (wc 3k)

*.last updated 05/08/24.*

MORE TO BE ADDED SOON

#fic recs #ateez fic recs #ateez au #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #hongjoong imagines

331 notes · View notes

yeostars · 4 months

Text

𓆩♡𓆪 ateez as girl dads / boy dads / or both ;) imo !! {Maknae line ver.}

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Mingi- boy dad .ᐟ

Mingi having a son just fits so perfectly to me. He's going to be the most random and funniest dad to a son istg. I really need a babycloud ep of mingi playing with jaeyul (PLEASE)

Mingi would love to spoil his son fr. Like imagine mingi and his s/o going shopping with their baby son and whatever the little boy points at or whatever his eyes gleams at, mingi is going to buy that for him in a SECOND. This just popped off to me. He wouldn't spoil him too much but he would love to buy him a few things every now and then because he would do anything to see him be happy.

A huge satisfied smile spreads over his face as he lifts his son (a baby of MONTHS) and spins him around and up and down, and notices his son's small eyes and lips curved into a cheeky grin as he enjoys getting lifted up by his dad. Mingi would quite literally lift him up even when his son grows up just to tease him. Well, he'd obviously stop doing that once he becomes too heavy to be lifted. (find him crying in a corner when he realizes that his son has grown tall enough to be too heavy to be lifted by him, he wonders, WHEN AND HOW DID MY SON GROW UP SO FAST :((( )

Loves to ruffle his son's hair all the time. He lovesss to buy him fashionable clothes and turns his son into a mini fashionista just like him (just like hongjoong too) he is all proud and happy when his son is dressed in a smart & sleek fit.

San- both .ᐟ

Thinking about San being both a girl and boy dad is making me sob. Like, imagine him having a older daughter and a younger son (just like him and his noona) HE WOULD BE A PERFECT DAD TO BOTH HIS KIDDOS :(((

Imagine if he had his older daughter first, (without knowing that he would have a son later!) he'd treat his daughter as an actual princess (just how his noona was treated as one😭) would be so gentle and loving to his daughter fr. Would love to buy her new toys and is fascinated every time he sees her playing with them, and he keeps wondering how quiet and cute she is while she has her play time (like all she needs is toys to he happy? I'd give her a million toys if she's happy by them) His daughter turns out to be shy and quiet, just like his s/o . San adores his daughter so much

Imagine, when his second kid aka his younger son is born, his parenting journey goes quite easily and smoothly because he already has experience when his daughter was born first. Lets take San's daughter to be around 4 years old when her younger brother is born. San is the happiest when he sees his daughter taking care of her younger brother. Most of the time when his son was a toddler, he would be so grateful when his daughter would be ready to babysit him without San and his s/o having to request her for doing so.

San would be soo playful with his son. He'd teach him taekwondo and other sports since an early age. He doesn't even realize that time is passing by as he stares at his two children bonding and playing with each other... he'd never fail to shower both of them with love.

Wooyoung- girl dad .ᐟ

Honestly, not only me but wooyoung HIMSELF said that "daughters are the best" (in that babycloud ep while playing with ayun and arin) implying that he would love to be a girl dad in the future 😭

He would literally be sooo clingy and attached to his baby girl, like he would never leave her side ever since she was born😭 He would love to talk to her and tell her stories about him and his s/o 's childhood and stuff (even tho the poor lil girl can't understand anything cuz she's a mere BABY) well he would tell all that to her again once she's all grown up.

He LOVES to talk to his daughter in baby language, like he always copies every little sound and word thay comes out of her mouth? And his s/o would notice all that & be like " i sure am taking care of not one, but TWO babies🧍‍♀️"

Would definitely turn his daughter into a naughty lil devil just like him. Would judge and tease his s/o together with his daughter all the time, teaches her all the sassy expressions to use against her mum whenever she's scolding her. (all jokes tho, he'd def turn serious and teaches her from right to wrong if she has done a mistake)

Legit treats his daughter like a fragile flower. Spoils her with everything she wants cuz that's his one and only precious child. Kisses her on the cheek all the time, every second and every minute he's endeared by her.

Jongho- both .ᐟ

Took me a long time wondering which category to put Jongho in, but then i thought "he actually seems like he'd be the dad of both a boy and girl, no kidding"

Lets take Jongho being the dad of both a boy and a girl. After both his kids were born, the way he effortlessly takes care of both of them, makes both of them laugh with his silly dad jokes, makes his s/o wonder how being a dad comes so naturally to him.

I feel like he would be such a fun dad. He would play with them all the time and would even do little skits with them, entertains his son and daughter with plenty of horror and ghost stories and funny stories about him and his s/o 's childhood and stuff. He laughs the hardest when his kids are all scared because of the horror stories and his s/o punches him on the arm to make him stop. His family would be such a lively and happy one.

His kids always look forward to Jongho's singing. Jongho always sings plenty of songs and lullabies for both of his kids ever since they were babies. Lets imagine his daughter liking soft ballad songs, he'd be happy to sing all the ballad songs he knows for her. And if his son likes rock based songs, he'd sing such songs for him too. His kids are proud to have a dad who sings so well. Its like whenever he sings at home, he has his kids as a live audience at a karaoke who cherish his singing skills a lot.

Would secretly fuel in the fights of his daughter and son, and would find it so funny that both of them are fighting. His s/o would beg him to stop both of them from fighting but Jongho enjoys the chaos for a while & then stops both of them from ripping each other's hair off 😭

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 8 months

Text

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

Hunter. Hunted. Predator. Prey. It's all the same when you know how it ends right? Let the game begin.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, Skz!Pack, skz!abo, Poly!skz, omegaverse abo, a/b/o, ot8, skz x you, skz x reader, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, femreader, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, ateez, ateez!pack, atiny, skz fluff, skz smut, primal play, primal skz

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Primal Play, CNC, Choking, Unprotected Sex, Delayed After Care

Title: Catch Me if You Can

“They’re going to fucking murder us once they find out about this, you know.”

Yeosang effortlessly avoids a stubborn root breaking through the running trail, and matches your pace once more, his feet pounding on the pavement a distinct echo of your own.

“You worry too much.” You puff out, glancing down at your watch, taking note of the time and distance.

Yeosang shoots you a glare, shifting slightly to allow you to follow the curve of the path. “I worry just the right amount, thank you very much.” He retorts back, checking his own watch with a brief downward flick of his eyes. “You, on the contrary, don’t worry enough.”

You roll your eyes at your best friend, giving him a slightly exasperated, amused twist of your lips in response.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t.” He immediately deadpans back, picking up the pace a bit as the final stretch of your run comes into view.

You match him easily, your wolf reveling in stretching its legs.

Speeding up just enough to get in front of him, you turn and jog backward a few steps, offering him what you hope is a pleading look, batting your eyes for extra good measure.

“Please, Sangie? For me, baby? Mommy really wants this one.” Your voice is a whine, and you don’t miss the way he grimaces at your words.

“Ew. You’re disgusting. Don’t ever call yourself mommy ever again.”

He shoves past you and makes a sprint for the parking lot.

You grin, and follow after him, calling out loud enough to be heard over your pounding footsteps, “So is that a yes then?”

“Fuck you!” Yeosang calls back over his shoulder, giving you the middle finger without looking in your direction.

Your grin grows wider.

You’re going to take that as a yes.

**************

You push through the door into the apartment and are immediately met with the smell of something cooking.

Your stomach growls at the thought of food-Minho’s food- and you kick off your sneakers with a thud against the entryway hall, wincing slightly as they leave a scuff on the plaster.

Jeongin appears on his way to the living room, hoisting a backpack over his shoulder, and when he catches sight of you, he pauses, taking in your running outfit, the sheen of sweat on your skin.

“How many?” He asks without preamble, grinning at you.

“Twelve.” You answer back with an arch of your brow and a smug smirk, and he steps toward you to give you a fist bump, knuckles meeting your own.

“Nice.” He grins wider, nodding his head.

“Jesus Christ.” Jisung, who has just appeared in the doorway behind Jeongin, mutters beneath his breath at your words, as if the very thought of running twelve miles is utterly revolting to him.

“Whoa.” Changbin practically runs into the halted Jeongin and Jisung as he enters, and the small front hallway is beginning to feel more and more packed by the second. “I was unaware we were having a pack meeting by the front door.”

“We’re not.” Jisung chirps, herding Jeongin toward the living room. “Just saying hi to noona.”

Changbin pats the youngest on the head affectionately as he slips by him, and then proceeds to lean over to grab his shoes, already dressed for the gym, his duffle bag hanging loosely off one shoulder.

You move to allow him access to the closet, and suddenly, he freezes, eyes flicking up to your own.

You stare at him, unsure of what’s happening, and then he promptly drops his gym bag and straightens up, sneakers forgotten.

His hand goes against the wall beside your head, and he leans into you, fingers gripping your chin, pupils suddenly wide and dark.

“You smell fucking incredible.” He murmurs, voice on the edge of a growl.

Suddenly, it clicks.

You give him the hint of a smug smirk. “I just got back from a run.”

Changbin groans, as if he’s heavily considering the pros and cons of controlling himself, and then grits out, “God, I love when you go running.”

His fingers tighten on your chin, and he angles your head to expose your throat, before he leans over and licks one long stripe up the side of your neck with an expert, rough swipe of his tongue.

Everything inside of you turns to jelly.

“Fuck, you taste fucking incredible too.” He growls, lips brushing against the underside of your jaw with every word.

“Oh, fuck me.” Hyunjin groans in obvious disgust, appearing in the empty doorway, a pair of headphones in one hand, his painting supplies in the other.

He’s clearly referencing the swirl of alpha pheromones currently drenching the entryway, not to mention, Changbin’s mouth still on your skin, and his very clear erection pressed between the two of you.

“I would love nothing more.” Chan replies cheekily, appearing behind the disgruntled Hyunjin, giving him an affectionate pat on the head as he pushes past the clearly annoyed omega. “But later, Jinnie. Bin and I are late for the studio.” Changbin sighs and rolls his eyes heavenward at Chan’s words, pulling back from you reluctantly as the head alpha leans between the two of you to grab his shoes, either completely oblivious to the tension or blatantly choosing to ignore it.

“God fucking dammit.” The other alpha curses beneath his breath, and you swear you see Chan hide a smile.

“C’mon, Bin. We have shit to work on. We gotta get it done.”

Changbin groans and leans over to grab his bag with jerky irritated movements. “You’re a fucking cockblocker to the fullest, hyung.”

“It’s his proudest title.” Hyunjin interjects with a sweet smile and bat of his lashes in Chan’s direction, as he moves past the three of you to reach for his jacket.

You giggle, and Chan shoots you an exasperated look, Changbin looking up at the sound.

Chan turns to Hyunjin to say something in response, and Changbin takes the momentary distraction to step toward you once more, his eyes darkening and his posture growing threatening.

His fingers pinch your chin, tighter than before, and you resist the urge to whine, as he leans in close to your lips, the scent of smoke filling your nose.

“Tonight. At the game. You’re mine.” His growled words send heat directly between your legs, wet and warm, but you try to remain stoic, giving him an innocent look as you inquire back sweetly, “What if we’re on the same team?”

Gold flickers across his irises, and his lips pull back in the start of a growl to reveal sharp canines.

“We won’t be. I’ll make sure of it.”

You swallow hard, and give a little nod, your alpha fully baring its throat to him now that he’s dropped his tone into alpha timber.

Changbin releases you, satisfied, and gives you one last long dangerous look, adjusting himself in his sweats while holding your gaze, before he reluctantly follows Chan out the front door.

*********

“God, we’re so fucking dead.” Yeosang mutters beside you, jiggling his leg nervously, so hard that the log you’re currently sitting on vibrates.

You reach out a hand and tamp down his knee, giving him a pointed stare.

“Will you stop that?” You hiss out the side of your mouth, eyes darting around to the surrounding pack members, all lost in their own conversations as they wait for the game to start. “This is the last fucking time I ask you to be my accomplice.”

“Good.” Yeosang whips right back beneath his breath, glaring sidelong at you. “I rather prefer myself breathing, thank you very much, and after this, Seonghwa-hyung is gonna skin me alive.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and dig your nails into his knee, so hard he winces and shoots you another outraged glower.

“Relax, Sangie. How bad could it possibly go?”

“I fucking hate you, you know that?”

You give him a wicked grin and blow him a cheeky kiss, to which he responds with a middle finger, just as Seungmin steps into the light of the bonfire you’re all gathered around.

As the unofficial officiator of the games, his long fingers are already full of black and white scrunchies.

The beta pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand, and glances around at all of you with a serious expression.

Everyone is quiet now, the banter from earlier dying down and giving way to anticipatory tension.

“Rules are as they always are.” Seungmin starts, his voice carrying over all of you, drifting into the dark, silence of the wood beyond.

The fire crackles loudly, and a log pops before disintegrating into glowing red coals.

The wave of ensuing smoke reminds you of Changbin, and you glance across to him to find him already watching you, eyes dark and endless.

Predatory.

A shiver goes down your spine.

“However-” Seungmin clears his throat, and beside you, Yeosang tenses up.

The smell of rotting driftwood assaults your senses.

God, he’s going to fucking give it away before the game even begins.

Seungmin’s gaze drifts to you, but it doesn’t linger, skirting to Yeosang and then beyond.

He’s a master at poker face, it’s why he’d been chosen as the referee for the games in the first place, never giving anything away.

“-an anonymous party has requested a caveat of sorts, and I have agreed.”

There is some murmuring among the omegas to your left, but your gaze is locked on Seungmin, every muscle in your body suddenly bunched.

Your wolf paces impatiently, ready to run.

A slight smirk twitches on Seungmin’s lips.

“After all, anything to make the game a little more unpredictable, am I right?” Beside you, Yeosang groans.

“But first-” Seungmin backtracks, and you hear a few other pack members groan at the anticlimactic drag out. “-come and get your scrunchies.”

Everyone stands in a bustle of motion, converging on Seungmin, hands eagerly grabbing markers confidently.

You step forward, reaching for one of the black predator scrunchies in the beta’s left hand, when someone knocks your hand away, fingers going tightly around your wrist.

You know who it is without looking, yet you glance over anyway, seeing Changbin scowling at you, his expression fiery.

“Not you.” He growls, before he takes the scrunchie you were reaching for and slides the black fabric around his own wrist.

You stare at him, but he doesn’t let you go, reaching across your joined arms for a prey marker instead, nodding to Seungmin, before he snaps the white scrunchie around your free arm, tugging you toward him with the same motion.

You stumble, and your free hand braces against his chest so you don’t fall into him completely, though you know he could hold you up easily.

His eyes are so dark, that you swear you can see the lack of reflection in them.

“Like I said,” He rumbles dangerously, and the sound vibrates in his chest, through your fingers, and instantly makes you swallow. “You’re mine.”

The brat inside of you rears its head, and you smirk up at him confidently.

“If you can catch me.”

Something feral flashes across Changbin’s eyes at your taunting, and he bares his teeth, a growl starting low in his chest.

“I don’t think you’re understanding me, little one.” He purrs warningly, fingers tightening their hold on your wrist, making your pulse race beneath his fingertips.

He leans down, and his nose brushes your own, his voice dropping impossibly low and deep.

More animal, less man.

“You’re. Mine.”

He releases you, and you stumble back, head swimming, wolf suddenly very much ready, and he gives you one last, long dark look, before he retreats to the predator side of the fire, sitting down beside Chan.

You catch your breath, and return to sit beside Yeosang, who is nervously playing with his own white scrunchie.

“That looked intense.” He remarks, and it takes you a minute to realize he’s talking about Changbin.

“Yeah.” You manage to get out, still slightly breathless, more than a little turned on. Your inner thighs are already wet. “Just a little.”

Across the fire, you can feel Changbin’s gaze boring into you.

Your attention is drawn back to Seungmin as he drops his now empty hands, crossing his arms over his chest as he regards you all once more.

“Now. As for the caveat-” His gaze sweeps to the predator side of the fire, and Yeosang gulps audibly from beside you.

“Tonight, predators are not allowed scent blockers.”

Chaos ensues.

Beside you, the rest of the prey glances between each other with wide eyes, whispering and murmuring.

Across the fire, the predators are in shambles.

“What? That’s bullshit!” San shoots to his feet.

Wooyoung cackles gleefully from somewhere beside Felix.

Seungmin holds out his hands to either side, looking annoyed with the commotion.

“Everyone shut up, I’ve spent the time going over this additional rule, and I think it’s well allowed in this instance-”

Your eyes drift across the crest of the fire without permission to Changbin, who hasn’t moved since the announcement, seated silently beside Chan, a frozen statue amidst the chaos.

He arches a brow when he catches your gaze, and something in his slightly amused, impressed expression clearly inquires silently, your doing?

You can’t bite back the grin that threatens your lips, as you give a slight, silent shrug in response.

Try to catch me now, predator.

“Oh fuck, he knows.” Yeosang squeaks from beside you, and you glance over to your friend, before following his terrified gaze across the bonfire to Seonghwa, who is staring down the other alpha with nothing less than murder in his dark eyes.

You pat him unhelpfully on the shoulder.

“RIP.”

Yeosang glares at you. “You better fucking speak at my funeral.”

You grin. “No promises.”

He curses, and mutters another string of insults beneath his breath, but your gaze is drawn back to that of a certain alpha sitting across the fire, completely nonplussed and completely focused on you.

Fuck, tonight was going to be fun.

“Prey.” Seungmin calls out, and you snap your gaze back to him, now holding a large open jar of what looks to be vaseline, but is really scent blocking gel, in his outstretched hand. “Come cover up.”

You grin, and pat Yeosang on the back once more for good measure before rising to your feet, ignoring his pointed look of death in your general direction.

Yeah. Tonight was going to be really fun.

*******

It had started to drizzle shortly after you entered the forest.

Prey got their precursory fifteen second head start, and you had used it wisely, breaking immediately for the eastern edge of the boundaries, where you knew a small stream was banked by steep walls and thick foliage.

You may have the advantage of wearing scent blockers, but any and all advantages stopped there.

Changbin was bound to hunt you like a bloodhound on a scent, and you needed to get to that water fast, washing away your scent trail and footsteps, your sneakers already beginning to sink into the gathering mud, leaving behind a clear path.

You reach the stream in record time, and survey your surroundings, debating the easiest way to make your way down the steep embankment.

The rain is pouring now, drenching your clothes and making them heavy, your line of sight severely compromised as the fog starts to roll in.

A crack of lightning over head startles you, making you flinch, and consequently, lose your precarious footing.

With a yelp, you slip in the mud and go down, tumbling violently down the embankment and into the stream, which is engorged and rapid with the oncoming downfall.

“Fuck.” You curse, the cold water of the stream instantly making you shiver, your clothes even heavier and wetter than before, as you struggle to right yourself and crawl to the bank of the stream, the rocks slipping beneath your hands.

The clay that lines the stream is soupy now, thick and breaking off between your fingers, and you swear again as you scrabble to get a grip good enough to pull yourself up.

That’s when you hear it-the sound of a branch cracking, loud enough to be heard over the sound of the rain.

You instantly freeze, ignoring the mud covering your hands, the freezing water slipping over your legs.

Another snap of foliage, closer now, and you suck in a breath, trying not to panic, as you glance around for somewhere in the stream bed to hide.

And then you see a pair of large, dark eyes staring at you wildly from the midst of a thicket only a few feet away, the panic clear in the familiar caramel irises.

Jeongin.

Without thinking, you roll your body across the little bit of embankment separating you, and drop down into the middle of the thicket beside him.

You’re breathing heavily, your clothes drooping from your limbs with the weight of the water, and the branches scratched you mercilessly on the way in, but beside that, you’re hidden.

And that’s all that matters.

A footstep sounds above you, on the edge of the upper embankment, out of your view, and Jeongin stiffens beside you.

If you could scent him right now, you would bet the small safety of the bush you’re currently hiding in would smell strongly of burning bread and too much cinnamon.

Instead, a wave of roses tickles your nose, and then, the faint whiff of amber.

Fuck, you should’ve known they’d be hunting together.

Another footstep, and then you hear Seonghwa say in a soft voice, “Clever prey. Using the water and the storm to their advantage.”

“Mm.” That’s Minho’s voice, humming low in agreement. “But we knew they were clever already, didn’t we?”

Seonghwa chuckles, more of a purr, and it has your hackles rising. “I guess we did.”

“Still-” Minho muses, and you see a sneaker come into view, dropping over the steep cut off of the embankment you fell down only minutes before.

Beside you, Jeongin cowers back, his eyes large and dark, pupils blown.

A whimper escapes his lips as Minho draws closer, and you slide your hand over his mouth quickly, silencing him, as you give him a pointed, wordless stare, your own body tensed and ready to run.

Minho’s muddy sneaker is dangling right in front of your hiding place now, and Jeongin is shaking.

“-I wonder how far they’re really willing to go.”

There is the sound of a branch breaking, and then the sneaker disappears from sight, before you hear the two alphas resume walking away from you.

Once you can’t smell even a hint of roses or amber any longer, you allow yourself to collapse back into the mud, removing your tightly clamped hand from Jeongin’s mouth.

He has red marks from your fingers dug into his full cheeks, and his eyes are still wide and terrified, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“Fuck.” He breathes out, shuddering on the exhale. “That was close.”

“Yeah.” You give a quick, curt nod, and glance up at the dark sky through the branches of your hiding spot, judging how much time has passed.

Changbin would be hot on your trail by now. You don’t have much time.

“We should go.” You give Jeongin a serious look, and he nods, swallowing, his throat bobbing, before you both push free from the branches of the thicket.

Your sneakers fill with water once more as you emerge into the open, stepping into the stream.

“Head off and I’ll go the opposite direction from you. We’re too vulnerable if we stick together.”

Jeongin nods again, clenching his fists, his small frame still shivering, and doggedly begins jogging away from you, staying in the creek for several meters, before you see him grab for an outreaching root and pull himself up the embankment and out of sight on the other side.

Letting out a steadying breath, you take off in the opposite direction.

When you’re far enough down stream that you can no longer see the spot where Jeongin disappeared, you leap up the embankment, the mud crumbling beneath your feet, as you slip your way upward, grabbing for a low hanging branch as your foot slides out from under you once more.

You ignore the burn of the rough bark tearing into your palms, heaving yourself upward quickly and quietly, feet finally landing on the somewhat steady lip that juts out before the drop into the stream below.

It’s still pouring, and you swipe a hand across your forehead to clear the dripping water from your vision, even as your newly torn skin stings in protest.

Swiping your palms on your wet pants, ignoring the burn as you do so, you take off at a light sprint, following the line of the stream further and further away from Jeongin, and where you’d last heard Seonghwa and Minho.

It’s tough going, the mud sucking at your feet with every step, the rain soaking your clothes until they’re so heavy they feel like lead attached to your limbs, and you’re panting by the time you reach some sort of clearing, carefully checking your surroundings before stepping out into the open from the safety of the tree line.

The ground is soup here, sinking when you take a careful step forward, the mud quickly rising up around your calf as your shoe disappears from sight.

You swear, and are debating whether to try to double back and skirt around the sink hole type clearing, losing precious time, or just doggedly continue forward, when you smell it.

Smoke.

It burns your nostrils, your throat with every heaving breath inward, sharp and acidic, and fuck, he’s close.

You hear the sound of a branch snap directly behind you, and without thinking, you throw yourself forward into the clearing.

The mud is trying to slow you down, but you leap forward, ignoring the pull on your sneakers, the burn in your calf muscles.

You lunge forward with wild abandon, anything to put some distance between the two of you, and then you feel it, cold fingers snaking around your muddy ankle.

You go down with a shriek, narrowly avoiding landing on your face by catching yourself on your aching palms, flailing in the pool of muck, and as you scrabble to grab something, anything, in front of you to try and drag yourself from his hold, the mud does nothing but break into thick, wet chunks beneath your fingers.

Changbin flips you so you’re on your back, staring up at him, chest heaving, and pins you to the ground, his knees going down heavily on your legs, one of his hands looping around both your wrists and tugging them up into the mud above your head.

You’re both breathing hard, and it gives you a moment of satisfaction to know you put up a good fight.

“Got you.” Changbin growls, leaning over close to your ear, his eyes so dark they could swallow you whole.

There’s only wolf behind those eyes, predator, and the thought makes your legs instantly turn to something akin to jelly.

You stare up at him, silent, and watch him take in the way the mud must be streaking your face, the bloody skin of your palms in his hold.

“Honestly, you made this too easy for me, it’s like you wanted to be caught.” He purrs, lips lifting into a slight smirk, dark and menacing.

“What if I did?” You fire back instantly, defiance rearing its head at his taunting.

Changbin arches a brow, eyes flashing. His fingers pinch your wrists, and you resist the urge to wince.

“Then I’d say, little one, that you don’t know what you’re in for.”

Fuck.

The human part of you desperately wants to give in, desperately wants to be caught, but the louder, more dominant wolf side of you is telling you to run, to resist, to give him what he so obviously wants.

What you both want.

A fight.

His free hand slides down your side, finding the soaked waistband of your leggings, and his fingers curl around the elastic as his swirling golden eyes meet your own.

Every muscle in your body tenses.

His cold fingers touch your equally chilled skin, and he shifts slightly, hovering some of his weight so that he can begin to tug down your leggings.

It’s the moment you need.

Kicking out, you throw him off balance, and he releases you in surprise, giving you just enough time to slither out from beneath his body and make one more last attempt to escape him, scrabbling on hands and knees through the mud to try and regain your footing.

You barely make it three feet before you feel his fingers close around your ankle once more, dragging you back through the mud toward him easily, instantly halting your forward progress.

Swearing and spitting like a cornered cat, you fight him the entire way, fingers clawing trails into the mud, until he’s got you back beneath him, pinned down, staring down at you triumphantly.

You’re both panting again, covered head to toe in mud, and the adrenaline is pumping intoxicatingly through your veins, making everything white hot to the touch.

“Fuck you.” You spit up at him, baring your teeth and glaring him down, writhing in his iron grasped hold.

Changbin grins, sharp teeth flashing white against the streaks of mud on his face, and arches a brow, sitting atop you nonchalantly, as if he hasn’t just battled you for every last inch.

“Normally, I’m into that, and I’d let you.” He acquiesces, his smile dropping into something closer to a dangerous, threatening smirk, as he leans down to put his lips against your ear. “But right now, prey, I’m going to be the only one doing the fucking.”

His fingers find your waistband once more, and this time, he doesn’t hesitate, ripping the fabric down your legs in one swift motion, baring your skin to the elements, and his gaze.

He sits back, admiring you openly, as your skin begins to pebble beneath the cold rain, the mud oozing between your now naked thighs.

“I can smell it on you, you know.” He muses, eyes never leaving your body, expression growing hungry. “You may not give yourself away like an omega, but your arousal is still palpable.”

As if to show you, he swipes a sudden hand up between your legs, and you jolt at the contact, his fingers cold on the place where you’re most hot.

“See?” He holds up his hand, and arches a brow, and his fingers glisten, even in the darkness.

“That could just be rain.” You argue back halfheartedly, because honestly, seeing Changbin with your arousal all over his fingers is doing something weird to your brain.

“Oh?” He murmurs, brow arching even further into the line of his dark, wet curls, as if he’s challenging you to continue.

“Yeah.” You nod weakly, your body starting to lose its fight against him.

It’s fucking hard to resist him when he’s between your legs, showing you your traitorous body’s reaction to him, his own arousal pressing into you from beneath the wet, dark material of his gray sweats.

Without dropping your gaze, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them off with one long swipe of his tongue.

Your brain short circuits.

Fuck.

Me.

He seems to know he has you, lips quirking upward into the hint of a twisted, triumphant smirk.

“I can assure you, it’s not rain, little one.”

He leans over, his chest brushing yours with each heaving breath.

His eyes are entirely black pupil, laced with swirling, hot gold.

“Now.” He hums, knocking apart your knees with his own, baring you completely for him. His free hand, the one he licked clean, moving to the waistband of his own sweats.

“Be a good little prey, and let the predator have his reward, hm? After all-” He frees himself from the wet fabric of his sweatpants, and you resist the urge to let your eyes trail downward, swallowing hard. “-I did catch you.”

“I made it easy on purpose.” You gasp out, the words hitching, as he trails himself slowly up and down your inner thighs.

The corner of his mouth lifts with amusement, but he doesn’t look up, watching the way your body openly reacts to what he’s doing.

“Did you?” He muses, almost to himself, beneath his breath.

Your whole body trembles beneath him.

“I don’t believe that.” He continues, voice a low murmur, almost a rumble, in his chest. He reaches up and turns over one of your trapped palms, baring the bleeding, torn skin. His gaze meets your own, and his eyes are dark, dangerous.

Something low swoops in your belly.

“If you’re going to lie to me, little one, at least make it worth it.”

You open your mouth to retort something smart in return, when, without warning, Changbin slams his hips forward and sheaths himself inside of you.

You cry out, stars exploding behind your eyes, back arching and muscles spasming, and Changbin’s hand comes around your throat, pinning you to the muddy ground, his fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to have the nails breaking the surface.

“Don’t move.” He commands, voice strained, the arm that’s holding himself up, hovering over you, beginning to shake slightly. “You don’t have all of it yet.”

Fuck.

You’re whimpering, you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop, as he leans forward, releasing his breath slowly, and, stretching you to the max, finishes fitting himself inside you.

He lets out a shuddering breath. “Fuck.”

You feel your muscles relax slowly, one by one, adjusting, and Changbin slowly releases his hold on your throat, finger by finger, until you can breathe again.

“Breathe, baby.” Changbin admonishes in an almost soft tone, as if he can tell what you’re thinking, and you take in a few ragged breaths, whining and writhing when the movement has him rubbing against all the right places. “Good girl.”

He starts to move then, bucking his hips into your own, and you swear to god, you black out, whimpering and clawing at his chest through his hoodie like an animal in heat.

“God, look at you, taking me so well.”

The praise has you reaching out, clawing at the muddy ground, trying to gain more friction.

“Bin, I need-” You gasp, breath hitching, as he hits a good spot, and you both simultaneously groan.

He pauses, reaching up to wrap his fingers beneath your jaw, forcing you to focus on him, meet his gaze.

His eyes are darker than the storm clouds brewing angrily overhead, and you vaguely have the thought that the gold swirling in his irises matches the flash of the lightning sparking above the trees.

“I know what you need, little one. I don’t need you to tell me.”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth, and finally nod, your muddy hands coming up to fist in the front of his dirty, wet hoodie, your nails itching to feel his bare skin.

Changbin must take it as a wordless acknowledgement, because he moves again, his hips hitting yours, and you get the black spots in your vision once more as you cry out.

“Now.” His hand closes a little more tightly around your throat, making your air reedy, your heart pound. Adrenaline is making you feel like you’re lightheaded, and you’re so close, even with just this-

Changbin smirks down at you, a predator. “Hold still, and let me devour you.” He leans over, and his teeth make contact with your mating mark, sinking into the sensitive flesh there, and you mewl, scrabbling for a hold on his sweatshirt, as he picks up his pace with renewed vigor, pounding into you relentlessly.

It doesn’t take long.

The adrenaline has you both on a knife’s edge, ready to topple with the slightest breath, and it seems like merely moments before your vision is exploding once more, and you’re gasping his name as you come, clenching around him.

Changbin follows you over the edge with a roar, and you’re both left panting, sweat mixing with the rain, mud mingling on your sticky skin.

Thunder rumbles overhead, as Changbin catches his breath, looming over you, dark curls tumbling over his forehead, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he stares down at you.

Your whole body feels numb and satiated, and your eyes feel heavy.

He rolls off of you, plopping down into the mud beside you, and you both just breathe for a moment, staring up at the turbulent sky.

Finally you feel his fingers curl around your wrist, and rolling your head so you can look at him, you see him lift his own muddy hand to his lips, pulling the dirty black scrunchie off with his teeth, before he slides it over your own hand, onto your wrist beside the once white marker.

He lets your hands flop back down between you unceremoniously, but keeps his fingers curled tightly around your own.

“There. I think you earned that.”

You watch the way his chest rises and falls with his ragged breathing, feeling eerily and utterly content in this moment, the storm pouring down on you from above, Changbin’s seed dripping slowly down the inside of your thighs.

Feeling your gaze, he glances over at you, lips pulling into the hint of a smile, before he pushes himself up beside you and his gaze travels to your bare, dirty legs.

He cocks his head, and glances to where he discarded your leggings earlier, a strange look on his face.

You sit up with effort, and reach for the article of clothing, balling it into your hand to begin to rub away the juices still clinging to your skin, when Changbin stops you with a hand on your wrist.

You glance up at him curiously, and his eyes flash gold in the dark.

“Don’t clean up. I want you to walk out of here knowing you’re mine, and feeling that reminder run down your legs all the way back to the house.”

You stare at him, and the corner of your mouth ticks upward.

“What about the rest of the pack?”

Changbin shrugs, standing, before he leans over to offer you a hand up.

His own lips curve into the hint of a self satisfied smirk, and if you hadn’t just come so hard you were still feeling slightly dizzy, you would’ve begged him to go another round.

“Fuck them. I want them to know too. I want everyone to know.”

You find-as he helps steady you so you can step back into your wet, filthy pants-that you don’t mind that idea one single bit.

********

You’re shivering so badly that it makes turning on the shower a more difficult task than it should be.

The adrenaline had finally worn off in the car home, and once you’d stepped inside and felt the warmth of the waiting house, your body had suddenly decided enough was enough.

You needed to get out of these clothes and into a warm shower as quickly as humanly possible.

Stripping had been nearly impossible, the drenched fabric sticking to your skin, your trembling fingers struggling with every single closure, but you had managed it, and now, finally turning on the hot water, you can see the end at the light of the tunnel.

It includes a hot shower, a warm bed, and as much of Minho’s leftovers as you can stand.

The door to the bathroom creaks open, letting in a cool stream of air that makes you shiver, and you glance over your shoulder, watching as Changbin enters, shutting the door quietly behind him.

He, unlike you, is still wearing his drenched outfit from the game earlier, dripping muddy rain water onto the floor as he regards you through the foggy, steamed air of the bathroom.

“Hi?” You question, adjusting the stream and temperature of the water, shooting him a curious look over your shoulder.

He doesn’t answer, stepping toward you as you straighten up from adjusting the water, his fingers going to your chin and locking you in place beneath his gaze.

You stare up at him, lips slightly parted, and resist the urge to wipe a streak of mud from his cheekbone.

“I needed to make sure you were okay.” He states softly, dark eyes flicking over your face, down the bare expanse of your body.

You’re caught off guard, still staring at him as he raises a finger to wipe some mud from beneath your jaw.

“I was rough with you earlier. My alpha got a little out of control.” He admits, reaching up to thumb the corner of your mouth.

You trap his hand against your face, relishing the warmth of his skin against your own.

“I like it rough.” The corner of his mouth flickers upward, and a muscle in his jaw ticks.

“I know.”

You breathe out, intertwining your fingers with his, and reach up to finally wipe away the streak of muck on his cheek.

“I’m fine.” You assure softly, holding his gaze.

He takes in a shuddering breath, gaze flicking down your body once more, and then to the running, waiting shower, before he glances back to you, expression softening slightly.

He runs his thumb over your lips, tracing the soft skin.

“I need to make sure. Please?”

You stare at him for another beat, and then nod, slowly pulling him toward the shower with you, as he reaches down with his free hand to strip off his hoodie and then his sweats.

Stepping into the warm water, your body shudders with relief, your tired, sore muscles instantly relaxing, as you lean into the pressure of the stream.

Changbin shuts the door behind the two of you, and immediately moves to assess you, his large, warm hands running over every inch of your body.

You let him do it, sensing it’s something he needs at this moment.

He tilts your head back with a commanding finger under your chin, his eyes roving over your face, gaze flickering down to the broken skin where his nails dug into your throat, the bruising mark of his teeth on your shoulder.

He runs gentle hands over each, pressing light kisses to the injuries, before moving on.

You feel your body slowly leaving fight or flight mode, and sinking into the warmth, the safety, his embrace.

He kneels in front of you, hands on your hip bones, and lets his fingers lightly trace over some of the bruising along your ribs and sides-courtesy of your little struggle-before he kisses them as well, lips featherlight and warm.

He turns over your palms, one by one, and dots kisses along the lines of scratches that mark the skin.

You bury your fingers in his dark curls, and tug slightly, and when he looks up at you, you give him the hint of a smile.

“See? Told you I’m fine.”

“Mmm.” He hums beneath his breath in acknowledgement, as you gently scratch his scalp, your fingers disappearing into the curls.

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to your stomach, and wraps his arms around your waist.

You stay like that-playing with his hair, frozen in his embrace-as the warm water continues to pour down from above.

Finally, Changbin pushes himself to his feet, releasing you, and leans forward, capturing your lips with his own.

You moan slightly as his teeth graze your bottom lip, and he pulls back with a teasing smile, but his eyes are soft.

“I love you.” He says, voice low and affectionate beneath the sound of the water.

You grin and loop your arms around his neck. “I know.”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing, but pushes you back against the cool marble of the shower wall with his body anyway.

You let your fingers card through his hair once more, down the strong lines of his chest, across the mating mark that scars his shoulder.

His fingers press, featherlight, into the bruise just above your hip bone.

“Yours?” You ask quietly, glancing up at him.

“Mine.” He replies back adamantly, before leaning in to kiss you again.

********************************************************************************

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holybibly · 4 days

Text

Today's unholy thoughts, bunnies. We always talk about the sweet, innocent bunny. But what if our bunny was a feisty and experienced girl, hmmm?

So here's the plot: You're a coordinator of sexy fanservice for kpop idols.

"Seonghwa, lick your lips slowly. That's right, boy, use your tongue.

"Wooyoung, roll up your shirt sleeves so everyone can see the veins on your forearms. You know how Atinys love that. You're doing great; keep going."

"Okay, Mingi, show everyone what you can do with those thighs."

"Sannie, baby, give us that sweet, dimpled smile. I want to hear them squealing."

You sat in a huge gaming chair in the waiting room in front of a big monitor, watching the concert. A large pink headset with cat ears flashed and shimmered in a variety of colours each time you plugged into one of the members' earpieces. At this very moment, you were urging Hongjoong to undo a few buttons on his shirt. You wanted Atinys to have a chance to enjoy his big 'heart'. And this was your first year with Ateez as a fan service supervisor. Or, as you like to call yourself, the sexuality coordinator.

If you had to choose one word to describe what you're doing, you'd say, Dream. Imagine that your job is to let the fans wishes and fantasies come true, and you get paid for that. You're quite famous in the industry. You've worked with popular groups such as BTS, Seventeen, and Stray Kids and participated in solo projects for Taemin, Hwasa, Kai, and other popular idols, and now you've worked with Ateez.

They were passionate, beautiful, and very talented, but along with that, they had a huge problem with sexuality and proper fan service. Sure, the guys were very fiery and charismatic when they were performing, but that didn't help them if they were not properly coordinated. And that's where you came into the picture.

It was easy up to a point; the boys would obediently follow your instructions, diligently following all of your recommendations, from the way they dressed to the way they behaved with the fans during the fansites. But something started to change in the way they behaved with you. Their touches became too long and more and more explicit, their words more and more vulgar and provocative, and their looks more and more hungry and wet. Hell, it was getting to the point where they were starting to use your own recommendations and advice against you. And it was annoying as hell.

"Noona, you want me to show you what that tongue can do? You know I won't disappoint."

"Baby, if you like my veins so much, you can lick them if you want to."

"Doll, how about I show you how those hips can move when I fuck you senseless?"

"Princess, my smile is going to be so much sweeter after I fuck you."

But the boys should have known better than to play games you were a professional at.

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bunnliix · 12 days

Note

Okay so what if you're driving home with some of the ateez members but Wooyoung gets really touchy and starts to finger you while trying to keep Seonghwa asleep and trying not to make Jongho and San in the front realize what's going on-

oooo yes! I love this so much. And I love that I woke up to this ask too hehe. And I didn't expect it to get this long but like I'm so bad at keeping my writing short. This is almost 900 words long oml

A continuation of this ask can be found here!

You’d be trying so hard to not move, so you wouldn’t wake Seonghwa up as he was sitting next to you, his head on your shoulder. Your hand that was closest to Wooyoung moved to grip his thigh tightly, fingers digging into his pants as you took a deep breath in, trying not to outwardly react to his actions. You keep your eyes forward, pointedly ignoring Wooyoung’s attempts to get your attention, watching Jongho and San as they talk in the row in front of the three of you.

“Awwww, you’re really trying to hold back those pretty noises? C’mon, I don’t think the boys would mind hearing how good I make you feel. Might even make them jealous that they can’t have you like this.” Wooyoung whispered in your ear, as his fingers found that spot in you that makes you see stars and a small gasp escapes your mouth, making you panic.

Thankfully Seonghwa didn’t wake up because of it, however San heard it, turning around to look at you with a concerned look on his face, eyebrows knitted together.

“Are you okay?” He asked you, to which you hurriedly nodded, which wasn’t convincing. He clearly didn’t believe you, but knew he wouldn’t get an answer out of you.

You gripped Wooyoung’s thigh with an iron grip, tighter than before as his pace sped up, his fingers curling inside of you to hit that spot almost every time. You bit your lip to attempt to keep the noises from tumbling out of your mouth, though your breath was clearly heavier than it was before, a sign that you were getting close to your own release.

Wooyoung smirked, he loved seeing your reactions, and loved provoking reactions from you as well. He loved to see how much you had to restrain yourself from moaning because of how well his fingers were fucking you, as you sat with Seonghwa-hyungs head on your shoulder. He placed his thumb on your clit, slowly rubbing circles as he slowed down the pace, letting you feel lulled into a sense of false security.

You take a deep breath in, trying to slow your racing heartbeat, and refocus yourself, trying to avoid squeezing your thighs together for friction. Only to let out a yelp as Wooyoung’s fingers started up a lightning fast pace once again, garnering the attention of the two boys in front of you, as well as some movement from the man leaning into you.

“Are you okay, noona?” Jongho asked you, concern painted on his face as he turned to look at you. Your looks didn’t help, your face was flushed and your lips were red and slightly swollen from the constant biting to hide your moans.

You cleared your throat before answering the youngest member of the group, “I’m okay, I promise Jongho. Just pinched myself accidentally and didn’t expect how much it would hurt.” You told him, trying to convince him and San that you were truly okay. Jongho seemed to buy it, but the look in San’s eye said that the man wasn’t convinced.

They both turned back around, and right before Wooyoung started up his actions again, Seonghwa shifted, leaning more into you than before and you held your breath, worried he’d wake up, but thankfully he didn’t. This gave Wooyoung free reign to once again continue on, and this time he was determined to push you over the edge, plunging his fingers in and out of you just as he knew you liked as his thumb rubbed your clit once again. His only goal was to get you to fall apart for him, and since they were close to their destination, he had to do it quickly.

Your breathing sped up as he quickly brought you to the edge, one hand accidentally grabbing Seonghwa’s pants as your eyes rolled back as the pleasure of your orgasm rushed through you, tiny whines that thankfully went unheard by the men in front of you. Wooyoung smirked as he watched you fall apart for him finally, slowing down the pace of his thrusts as you came down from your high, removing them once you started squirming from overstimulation.

“Such a good girl for me.” He whispered in your ear, pulling his fingers up to his mouth to taste you and cleaning them off at the same time.

Your head fell onto his shoulder as you tried to get your breathing back under control after Wooyoung’s actions. You closed your eyes, exhausted after having to keep quiet for so long, when you felt fingers run along your folds once again. Squirming and thinking it was Wooyoung, you opened your eyes to quietly scold him, only to find that the arm under your skirt didn’t belong to him, instead belonging to the man who was supposed to be sleeping. Watching the hand emerge from under your skirt, you watched as he pulled his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick at his soaked fingers, cleaning them of your cum.

“If you’re going to try and play games back here, you really ought to be more discreet, Wooyoung. Though, darling, you do taste divine.” Seonghwa commented, almost as if it was a casual everyday thing to talk about. He sat up straight once again, but not before he winked at you, making you blush.

#asks #ateez hard hours #wooyoung #seonghwa #ateez smut #lixie hard hours

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joongernaut · 1 year

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.

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