No mind to break… No cost too great

a frown knits your eyebrows together at the sight of a crowded room. you swear daeun had only mentioned two freshmen, but then you notice the picture of an exposed forearm on the shared display. you spot one of the boys pointing repetitively at the screen right where the humeral head of the brachioradialis muscle is most prominently visible from the skin’s surface, then the others follow along to either pull their own sleeve up or the sleeve of the person next to them to probe the same area with their fingers. they stare intensely lost in deep discussion as they practice what looks like surface anatomy identification.

there may be more people than you had expected, but everything else checks out so you assume their friends have just joined the original two you were meant to help tutor. you are not going to complain either, not when they are all unarguably cute and hot; a room full of blessed eye candy. except you know to remain rational, the knowledge that they are freshmen telling you that you can admire, but that is it.

your sharp knock against the door is purely out of courtesy before you push it open to let yourself in. all eight pairs of eyes glance up to look at your entrance with a mixture of confusion and surprise but you easily wave them off.

“i’m a little earlier than the time daeun said, though i’m pretty sure it won’t make much of a difference. we can start straight away since you guys are already studying,” you announce, pulling out one of the empty seats closest to you to make yourself comfortable.

the guys have a couple of notebooks and laptops scattered around the table. however, you cannot find a visible copy of the lecture slides they are currently revising. it dawns on you and you confirm, “you’re just practicing surface anatomy on random pictures online, right?”

your eyes flicker between the boys one by one as you wait for a response. the only movement in the room comes from your hands digging out your own study material from your backpack, the rest of them still frozen with varying degrees of forearms exposed, until you make eye contact with the boy to your left with long, wavy bangs.

he immediately breaks out into an impish grin to answer, “yeah, we are.”

“wooyoung, we’re–”

“we can’t quite figure out the answers on our own arms,” wooyoung quickly interjects. you are unable to try and work out what his friend was going to say because he has already continued with a shoved forearm in your direction paired with the question, “can you help?”

nodding, you gently take his hand in yours. “we can start with the distal arm and make our way up proximally. the bone structures are easy to identify because they only ask you the most prominently palpable ones.”

you feel the rest of the boys gradually gravitating closer, some unspoken blanket of hesitation slowly lifting as you touch the protruding structures on the boy’s elbow you are holding. you ask, “what do we call these landmarks?”

wooyoung’s answer is instantaneous, tone proud and utterly confident in himself, “bones.”

“no, you dumb fuck,” comes another friend’s hissed response, mono-lidded eyes narrowing with judgement. “it’s the elbow.”

your mouth opens slightly, closes, then opens and closes once more. they are not wrong…but they are most definitely not right, either.

the silence you are met with from the rest of their friends is also frankly a little concerning, considering their practical is in a few days. but just as you begin to wonder what their chances of passing are, a gentle voice answers, “the landmark most commonly known as the elbow is the olecranon process of the ulna.”

“shit. of course seonghwa would know,” somebody mutters.

said man steps forward, bending down a little to palpate the other two protruding landmarks on the sides of wooyoung’s elbow as he continues, “this one is the medial epicondyle of the humerus…and this one is the lateral epicondyle.”

you nod, now feeling a bit of reassurance that they know something, and instruct, “have a go at finding those three landmarks first.”

the boys listen well and you mostly watch whilst listening to ensure they are not making any errors, until somebody taps you on the shoulder with a gruff, “dude.”

turning around, you find yourself face to face with an elbow. it belongs to the same person who had confidently answered ‘elbow’ and you realise he would easily tower over you if you were to stand next to him, even more so from where you are seated right now.

“what’s this called again?” he asks earnestly, pointing at his elbow in case his question is not obvious enough. “the o-leprechaun process?”

you bite back a laugh to correct, “the olecranon process.”

“you’re a leprechaun, mingi,” somebody cackles, having overheard the exchange.

mingi immediately raises a hand to his eyebrows, dramatically looking back and forth around the room as if he is searching for the speaker. “sorry, can’t hear you, hongjoong. must be because you’re the actual height of a leprechaun.”

a chuckle escapes you as everybody else breaks out into guffaw, and hongjoong grumbles under his breath, “fucking walked myself into that one.”

“i think you meant you hopped yourself into that one.” the tallest of them all–yunho, you hear them call him–snickers wickedly at his own comment as he breaks out into an awful interpretation of a leprechaun jig and it sets off a fresh bout of laughter that can probably be heard throughout the library despite the sound-proofing of the study room.

their easy banter dissipates any initial awkwardness that may have been left and you take the opportunity to prompt them with the next task, “this time we’re going to palpate the superficial muscles. we’ll start with the brachioradialis, flexor carpi ulnaris and flexor carpi radialis.”

“the fuck are these names? dinosau–”

“can you uh…” seonghwa smoothly interrupts whilst scratching the back of his neck, “remind us which ones those are again?”

well, shit. if even the supposed star student does not know, you might have to take things back a step. you wonder, “do you guys know your muscle attachments and movements?”

“nope,” wooyoung gracelessly replies before he coughs and hastily corrects, “i mean, we could always do with some revision.”

oh boy. several steps back it is.

you rummage through your bag for your whiteboard markers as you sigh resignedly, “alright, everybody take out your notebooks and pens. we’ve got a lot to cover today.”

and that is how you spend the next three hours going through what honestly feels like the entire anatomy course. by the time you have to head off for one of your own lectures, you are at least somewhat confident that they will all pass the practical–even if you reckon that wooyoung and mingi will just barely scrape by.

so when it comes to your afternoon class, you dip first, trusting that they will continue to revise the summarised content you have set out for them. you pull out your phone for the first time since you entered the study room, only to turn the display on to a multitude of missed calls and unanswered texts from daeun.

your feet slow to a stop as you open up her messages until you are simply standing in the middle of the footpath halfway across the campus. the dirty looks that everybody else shoots at you as they step around you is easily ignored in favour of something that is rapidly becoming a huge fucking question mark.

did you find them okay? thanks again for doing this <3 lmk if you’re running late hey, yohan’s just let me know that you’re still not there yet. you alright? it’s been half an hour where are you hellooo?? i told them sth came up for you but text me back asap to let me know you’re ok are you alive ???

unless you took hallucinogens with your frappe latte this morning, you swear to the fucking gods on earth all the way to fucking neptune that you just spent three hours tutoring a ragtag bunch of freshmen. they were taking notes and asking questions–even if they were kind of stupid ones half the time–and they were actively listening and learning.

but if your friend has texted asking why you have not followed through with the favour you agreed to, then who the fuck did you just spend the last three hours tutoring? and most importantly, why the fuck did they just let you?

there is no other explanation other than the fact that you were simply an idiot. a confident one at that.

you had spent all night tossing and turning over conspiracy theory after conspiracy theory, wondering just how the mix-up had managed to occur, but to no avail. determined, you had woken up early and made your way to campus to retrace yesterday’s steps to the same study room.

that is where you find yourself now, looking at the number beside the door, 181A, and the one daeun had texted you.

118A.

well, fuck. is it too late to transfer universities, preferably to one that is in another state?

just as you feel the need to shrivel up on the spot and bury yourself six feet under, the door to 181A swings open. you are utterly mortified to make eye contact with one of the boys you recognise from yesterday. white noise permeates your brain as you both blink awkwardly at one another before some small part of you that is desperate to survive starts urging you to run away.

“what’s wrong, yeosang?” a voice sounds from within the study room.

yeosang stumbles over his friend’s question with an unintelligible mumble. fortunately, he is one of the quieter ones in the group, which means your chances of skedaddling the fuck out of here are pretty good.

unfortunately, the majority of them are not quiet. several heads pop up from behind yeosang, curiosity well piqued by his lack of response, and you physically recoil when you hear a cheery, “hey! it’s anatomy girl!”

it triggers a chorus of excited “anatomy girl!”s from those who have not already gathered at the door. before you can react, somebody tugs you into the room by your wrist, another pulls a chair out for you, a set of hands guides you to sit down and another closes the door behind you, all in the span of blinking your eyes thrice. it briefly crosses your mind that the level of efficiency and teamwork with which they operate would make them excellent criminals.

“you’re here again!” wooyoung cheers, the same impish grin on his face as yesterday now suddenly making a lot more sense.

you cross your arms in an attempt to regain some control, but mostly to draw attention away from your flaming cheeks. “you guys aren’t daeun’s friends,” you confront.

“we suppose not,” the boy standing beside wooyoung arches one of his dark brows playfully as he teases, “but we can change that.”

“san, you can’t just say that so shamelessly,” yunho berates, before dropping his voice an octave lower to flirt instead, “better yet, how about we be your friends?”

somebody smacks the back of his head with a solid whump and ignores the resulting petulant cry of “jongho!” to apologise to you, “sorry, we really should have told you the moment you walked in yesterday.”

damn right, because who the fuck just sits there for three hours getting tutored on something they do not even study? but also, you acknowledge, “i really should have made sure you were the right people first. my bad.”

“it’s okay, it was an honest mistake,” wooyoung reassures, beaming at you brightly as if he was not part of the reason why the confusion happened in the first place.

you scowl, only half-heartedly, “why were you looking at your forearms anyway. anyone in my position would’ve thought you guys were doing anatomy too.”

“we–uh, actually, um,” hongjoong’s eyes flicker as if he is considering whether to tell the truth or not. he unconsciously fiddles with his own sleeve as he admits, “we were discussing whether it would be more attractive to show off our forearms or cover them up.”

“huh?” you respond unintelligently.

seonghwa hurries to clarify with context, “performance outfits. we were discussing performance outfits for our upcoming band music festival.”

that is the exact moment your eyes finally decide to survey the study room. there are a variety of instrument cases scattered along the floor and propped against the walls; guitars, basses, and even what you are quite sure is a whole goddamn keyboard.

“were…were these in here yesterday too?” you ask vaguely.

“...yes.”

daeun has told you multiple times before that you have zero situational awareness, but you had no idea it was this bad. how you managed to miss the fact that they are a band is probably more impressive than concerning at this point. but then–

“how the fuck did you guys know some of the answers?”

at your tone of bewilderment, seonghwa sheepishly looks at you to confess, “some of us did anatomy too. we just couldn’t remember much.”

makes sense. “i assume neither of them two did anatomy,” you banter, nodding at wooyoung then mingi.

the former’s jaw drops and he whispers conspiratorially, “how did she know?”

mingi leans down to reply with the same volume, eyebrows creased together, “i have no idea.”

you wink at them both cheekily and everybody else snickers. out of curiosity you ask, “so what was the final verdict on your performance outfits?”

“haven’t decided,” yeosang shrugs. “as someone who’s seen all our forearms, what do you think? show them or don’t show them?”

you look up and pretend to think. in all honesty, with visuals like theirs, their forearms are going to be one of the last things anybody appreciates during their performance. but you humour them anyway, because frankly–

“show,” you state decisively. “definitely show them.”

–their forearms are too hot not to.

as it turns out, they are all closer to you in age than you had originally thought.

most of them are fourth-years like you, jongho in the year below, and hongjoong and seonghwa currently completing their masters. their degrees are simply to appease their parents whilst they pursue a career in music, and you cannot blame any of them for their lack of interest in studying.

“i’m bored.”

“it’s been six minutes, wooyoung,” hongjoong deadpans.

the younger is unfazed. “your point is?”

“some of us actually have to do well in this assessment block to pass,” yeosang reminds, “you included.”

wooyoung splays himself across the floor of their practice room with the distressed cry of a beached whale, kicking his laptop aside and out of sight. after spending the last two days in the library, the boys had decided on a change in scenery and invited you along to study with them for your upcoming exams in their usual band room instead.

‘study’.

barely enough time has passed for the nine of you to boot up your laptops and spread out your study material before wooyoung has already lost motivation. it does not help either when yunho suggests, “i think we need a break.”

mingi perks up from where he has been leaning against an amplifier, wearing out the corners of his notes from folding them over and over again, to agree, “i second that.” he tosses his paper onto the floor. 

“guys–” hongjoong begins with exasperation, only to be cut off by wooyoung and san’s unison response of, “i third that.”

the oldest of the group also attempts to chime in with rationality but is easily drowned out by the others’ excited chatter at the prospect of not studying. a hearty laugh comes out of you as chaos begins to unfold, genuinely wondering how they managed to sit through your three-hour anatomy session if this is how they usually are, and you close your laptop with an amused shake of your head.

“an attempt was made,” you suppose.

it catches the attention of wooyoung, who immediately yells with faux authority and dictation, “the council has spoken! ‘tis time for a break!”

there is an immediate flurry of movement as the boys begin to unzip their cases left and right and connect cables from god knows where they pulled them out in order to start tuning their instruments. amplifiers crackle to life and the practice room suddenly swells with a choir of different keys and pitches that somehow blend together into disorderly harmony.

the assorted sight of them holding their guitars or basses, behind their keyboards or seated at the drums is a stark contrast to the playful and mischievous nature of their boyish friendship, and an even further contrast to your original impression of them as studious freshmen. right now, their charm and attractiveness radiates from their confidence and freedom of expression, impromptu strings of notes and beats flowing seamlessly between the eight of them even though they are simply messing around and warming up individually.

you have said it before, but you are going to say it again with the knowledge that they are not freshmen: goddamn they are hot.

hongjoong catches you eyeing them and he smirks, “checking us out?”

your immediate reflex is to scoff and lie with confident coyness, “the others, yeah. you? definitely not.”

“i’ll have you know that i’m the most popular in the band,” he challenges, smugness only growing at your pretence, only to set off indignant and sarcastic responses from the other boys at his comment.

“do you know how to play?” jongho asks you through their squabble, absentmindedly plucking the strings of his own bass.

you shake your head, adding, “i’ve always wanted to learn, though.”

“if you want, we can teach you,” seonghwa offers with a sweet smile. he unplugs his guitar from the amplifier and settles down on the floor beside you, handing the instrument over to place it into your lap.

you support the neck of the guitar with your left hand and hover the fingers of your other hand over the sound hole, having seen more than enough media growing up to mimic holding the instrument properly. you begin to feel conscious under the numerous gazes that now fall upon you, but then seonghwa is scooting closer and drawing your attention once more.

“may i?” seonghwa gestures towards your fingers to ensure you are comfortable with him touching your hand. when you nod, he gingerly places the pads of your fingers along the strings as he teaches you the most common chords, explaining as he goes through, “this is C…G…D…”

a shiver runs down your spine, not from the feeling of seonghwa’s gentle touch, but from the feeling of somebody quite literally breathing down your fucking neck.

before you can turn to see who it is, wooyoung’s voice sounds right beside your ear to unhelpfully comment, “yeah, use those–uh, use those abductor digiti minimi and abductor pollicis brevis muscles.”

“bro, she has to flex her fingers,” yunho corrects. “that’s the–um, flexor pollicis brevis and flexor digiti minimi brevis.”

“or maybe the flexor digitorum superficialis,” san suggests, looking at his own fingers as he flexes them as if that will give him the correct answer.

“what the fuck?” you jerk backwards with a mixed laugh of disbelief and surprise to find the content you had taught them days ago being regurgitated, and somewhat correctly at that. “why do you guys remember this?”

they look extremely proud of themselves, like children who have received praise and an extra sticker on their behaviour chart for doing their work well. you are beginning to think that that might actually be an effective method to motivate them to study, when mingi leaps on the opportunity to exaggerate a wink and flirt, “cause we had a hot tutor.”

“give her a break,” seonghwa chuckles as he pretends to wave the boys off. then, leaning in closer so that only you can hear, he earnestly whispers, “he’s not wrong, though. they’ve never sat still for three hours before.”

you giggle, “i can tell.” even though you have only known the boys for a few days, you are unable to recall a moment without some sort of chaos occurring. “i can only imagine how much energy you guys have on stage.”

yunho’s ears perk up. “do you want to come see us perform?”

“yeah! you should come–” “–please, please, please–” “–the weekend as well.”

they pounce on you physically and verbally with uncontainable enthusiasm and you fight for air through your laughter. “which weekend is this?” you confirm, somehow having caught the information over the commotion.

“the saturday in two weeks.”

“we’re playing a half-hour set in the afternoon, so if you’re down, we can hang out afterwards too.”

“there’ll be food trucks and drinks. we’ll pay for you!”

“plus, we have free tickets to the actual festival.”

“and all our exams will be over by then.”

it was never going to be a hard decision to say yes–you only needed to make sure their performance did not clash with a prior engagement. however, it is utterly endearing and absolutely hilarious how quickly they back each other up in hopes of persuading you to attend.

nodding, you agree, “i’ll go.”

san instantly whips out a small piece of paper from the front compartment of hongjoong’s guitar bag, shoving it into your hands with a beam. “your ticket,” he explains.

“you just have these lying around?” you distractedly question, flipping it over to look at the details of the ticket. you assumed that any free tickets they received from the festival would have long been given away to friends and family, considering how popular they seem as a band.

“hongjoong bought this one specifically for–”

“–just in case we missed somebody,” hongjoong interjects, wrapping an arm heavily around yeosang’s shoulders to stop him from finishing his sentence.

you are too busy gaping at the type of ticket in your hands. “vip reserved seating? isn’t this the best type of ticket?”

“express entry, private bathrooms and front row seats amongst many other perks,” jongho confirms.

it does not matter that hongjoong and yeosang’s brief exchange just moments before had gone unnoticed, because you sure notice now. there is no way a festival would give out tickets like this one. “front row seats to admire you guys perform, huh,” you coquettishly comment.

the boys smirk knowingly in response and san cryptically rolls up his sleeves with a vague response of, “nope, there’s more to it than just the performance.”

because as much as you have figured them out, they have also figured you out.

“not just front row seats to admire our performance…they’re front row seats to admire our forearms too.”

taglist pt. one | apply for taglist

@thecarnivaloflies @ilovekimhongjoong @yuranimous @ppprimary @hwas-housewife

@itza-meee @lavishloving @okshu @mizumigi @everythingboutkpop

@ayytease @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent

@darkmentalitystarfish-blog @taytayy178 @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi

@mimilia1801 @kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia

@nollamuumialaaksossa @skz1-4-3 @minkilicious @joongscheese @ddeonghwva

@delulu18 @teenyfinds @shakalakaboomboo @hxpelesscxven @fureastel

@seomisaho @levishun @lesyeuxdeanna @readerofallthingss @potatos-on-clouds

@apriecotte @hhoneylix @kyeos4ng @smally97 @savluvsmingi

You really had gotten the dates wrong. Wooyoung had sent you a screenshot of his flight details, not taking the time change from America to Korea into account.

One more night… He’s coming home tomorrow…

So while you watched the endless fancams of Wooyoung and the spicy videos that you both recorded for these times, you really didn’t expect your locked door to unlock, not that you would’ve heard it.

“Youngie,” you moaned, trailing your hands down your body, closing your eyes and imagining your boyfriend's skillful hands instead of your own pleasing you, playfully pinching and slapping at your heated skin.

“Y/N?” Wooyoung called, before he heard moans coming from your bedroom. His stomach dropped until he heard his own voice. Then a smirk came over his lips.

“F-Fuck!” He heard you gasp, and that was when he dropped his suitcase and carry on, making his way to the bedroom. He silently opened the door to see you splayed out on the bed, your hands working your naked breast and barely clothed pussy.

“Youngie,” you gasped and he picked now to make his presence known.

“Right here kitten,” he smiled and your eyes shot open. Both in shock and elation.

“Youngie!” You squealed, sitting up.

“Don’t stop on my account kitten. Keep pleasuring yourself and maybe if you’re good for me, I’ll join in,” he teased and you smirked, knowing how this cat and mouse game would end: with Wooyoung pounding into you until he got tired. And you crying his name into the air. Your foot lifted before fitting against your opposite ankle, before your hands got back to work, reinvigorated by your boyfriend’s presence.

Your head folded back as you clicked play on the video again, your own moans mixed with the sound of skin slapping skin flitted from your phone to your ears.

“Youngie, I need you,” your hips ground into the mattress as your back arched.

“Be a good girl for me, and I’ll give you what you want,” he reminded you and you nodded, bringing yourself back to the edge of the cliff.

With his words and how you got yourself warmed up earlier, your orgasm hit you, making you bite your lip and head pressing into the pillows you propped up behind yourself.

“Baby?” You called weakly, your eyes opening into slits to look over at Wooyoung who started stripping. When he noticed your eyes on him, he smirked before teasing you with the ghost of his touch.

His eyes darkened before getting down to his underwear that did nothing to help the erection pressing tightly against the fabric.

“Where do you want me Kitten?” He practically purred.

“I don’t care. I just need you.” You whined.

“Damn Kitten, I haven’t even touched you and you’re already whining,” he teased before kneeling in front of the bed and grabbing your ankles, pulling you to the edge, your legs dangling free. Your hips and torso were the only pieces lying on the bed.

“My favorite dessert,” Woo purred.

“And my little kitten warmed it up for me,” he smirked before pressing teasing love bites into your plush thighs.

“Stop fucking teasing Youngie,”you grasped his silky raven locks between your fingers.

Which earned you a straight up bite to your innermost thigh, his nose brushing against the skin where your hip meets your core.

“What was that for?” You demanded.

“For hurrying a masterpiece,” he laughed, making you roll your eyes.

“Fucking brat,” you grumbled as his lips ghosted over your core and he stopped, an eyebrow raising at your words.

“Oh I’m a fucking brat?” He asked, gently blowing cool air onto your core, making your body involuntarily arch upward.

“Yeap,” you stood by your earlier statement. But what screwed you over in the best way possible, is that you were as big of a brat as him.

“Well brats don’t get what they want. Now do they?” Wooyoung asked, turning more dominant in the moment.

Yes that motherfucker was the biggest brat and switch you knew of.

“I usually get what I want,” you wink, making Wooyoung’s face flush for a moment.

He had no rebuttals, and you knew it.

“How about I give you something for your mouth to do besides talking shit,” he lifted you to your feet and standing in record time.

With how much he had to do even more intensive moves on stage made this a cakewalk.

There was a reason you used your vacation for this week. While you might have gotten the date wrong, you knew better than to expect to work for that first week- if you wanted to be coherent and not busy daydreaming or texting Woo any chance you got.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he grasped your chin in one of his palms and bringing you closer to his member.

You smirked before pressing a light kiss to the tip, the faintest taste of saltiness mixed with sweetness.

“You little minx,” you teased before continuing. “You’ve been drinking pineapple juice,” you smiled deviously.

“Perfect,” you then brought him into your mouth, needing to reacquaint yourself with his size.

“Just for you Kitten. You can take it all,” Woo bucked his hips into you, making you take a little more of him as a result.

The extra length made you have to come up for air, coughing slightly. As soon as you got your breathing back under control, you went back in, pressing your palm’s delicately on the front of his thighs. You looked up to see him already watching you take him in your mouth, lust completely overtaken your boyfriend, and lust filled gazes passed between you two.

Once you took his entire length in your mouth, Woo tipped his head back in pleasure, a moan ripping its way out from his chest. He’d missed this the most during the tour.

“Want me to record?” You asked, your mind going to the same place as your boyfriend’s. He nodded and jerked himself off while you hurried to your feet, grabbing your phone from the bed and pressing record, bringing the camera to face Woo full on.

It only encouraged him while you scoped out the best spot for your phone so you could just set it and forget it. You smirked as you set your phone against your spicy novels in the small bookshelf in the room.

“And I’m the minx?” Woo asked with another raised eyebrow, noticing where you set up your phone. He had to do a double take, his smirk deepened when he read the titles. It was a set that Woo had delivered the day you had to drop him off at the airport.

“Yeah tell me what you want babe, Let me bet something on your book page. What a wicked mind with some wicked ways,” He spoke the words to an edit on TikTok of him that one of your best friends accidentally sent it to him instead of you.

Your face flushed, bringing him out from between your lips.

“Izzy sent that to you?” You asked, mock horror in your tone.

“She meant to send it to you,” he spoke, smirking at the memory of watching himself from different concerts this tour, mostly in America, over a banger song that explained your sex life to a T.

“Maybe I should do what I wanted to do for you when she sent it to me,” you purred, standing and placing your hands on his shoulders, before pushing him onto the bed, straddling his lap.

“Look at you,” he purred, running his hands over your hips while one moved to your breast. He pinched and rolled your nipple between his index and forefinger, before bringing it between his lips, nipping at the sensitive heated flesh. A moan left your lips, your head dipping back, the ends of your hair tickling your shoulders and upper back.

“Right there,” you rolled your hips into your boyfriend’s, his member brushing lightly against your core.

“You want it baby girl, don’t you,” he brought his lips to your ear, nipping at your earlobe, before ghosting his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Y-Yes please,” you moaned, craving the friction you’d missed.

“Just be patient baby girl. I’ve been waiting for this for months, I’m going to get my fill,” he bit on your shoulder, a whine leaving your lips.

“I need you,” you whimper, your core pulsing around nothing in desperation.

“Where do you need me?” He asked.

“Inside me, now!” You demanded, grasping his hips with your hands.

“What did I say about rushing a masterpiece?” Woo asked.

“I don’t care,” you shook your head.

“So impatient tonight kitten,” he chuckled before you had enough of the teasing, lining yourself up with his member, and sinking down so he could fill you up to the brim.

“Oh my god!” Both of you hissed when bottomed out into you.

“You feel so good baby girl,” he whined, bucking up to meet your tempo.

“Youngie, I’m g-gonna cum,” you whimpered, trying to speed up the tempo.

“Nah nah baby girl. I’ve got you close, why change it up?” He asked, rolling his hips, making your eyes roll back into your head, biting down on his shoulder to keep from screaming as you were tossed off the edge of the cliff of pleasure.

“I’m close kitten,” Wooyoung’s thrusts became much messier the closer he got to his own release. He brought his lips to your ear, his grunts in surround sound in your ear.

“I-I’m cumming,” he warned you before painting your walls white with his seed. You melted against your boyfriend’s body as the orgasm delirium washed through your body.

“I love you so much baby girl,” Wooyoung separated from you, going to go get the baby wipes from the bathroom while you laid on the bed, your limbs still tingly from the first of many orgasms to come while he was home.

“Fucking TikTok,” you chuckled when Woo came back into the room.

“What’s so funny Kitten?”

“This all started because of that TikTok,” you laughed softly and he shut his mouth with a upward tilt to his plump lips.

“What? That’s what got you all needy?” he laughed and walked to the bed to clean you both up.

“Yeah pretty much,” you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Y/N!” Seonghwa screamed as angels carted you away, off to doom your soul to Hell presumably.

He tried, flailing, against the arms of Michael that held him in place.

“Hwa!” Your cries were raw, scraping against your throat as you saw him fight against an angel.

“Leave him alone!” Your throat was probably close to bleeding from how hard you screamed.

“Lucifer!” You needed help, and fast. There was one thing you remembered in that moment. Courtesy of being raised Roman Catholic.

Lucifer had rebelled against god once and convinced a third of the angels at the time to side with him. If there was anyone or anything that could help you now, it was him.

A familiar man materialized from a corner of the warehouse. Dyed blonde hair with black roots were the first thing you noticed, aside from his height.

“Andy?” Your words left your lips as your favorite singer materialized in front of you.

“You rang darling?” He asked with a smile.

“Help him please!” You pleaded, and Lucifer- Andy- first turned to the angels holding onto you.

“You might want to let her go,” he warned them- a man and a woman- before placing either hands on their foreheads, and turning to you.

“Look away,” he commanded and you did as he asked, before a brilliant light filled the area along with their screams.

“Mikey… It’s been too long.. What? 10,000 years?” He asked before giving Michael a look that spelled his death.

“Lucy… This is business with dad and this angel that’s about to fall,” his words dripped malice at the end of the sentence.

Seonghwa had gone silent, desperately fighting against Michael’s hold.

“Aw… Come on. I’ve been around as long as you… I know daddy dearest sent you down here to deal with me. And sent him because I was helping her. From a mess he created!” His voice boomed.

“And seeing as he’s about to fall, it is my business,” Lucifer growled while Felix grabbed you by the waist.

“Don’t die from the crossfire,” he whispered into your ear.

“Ohh, I didn’t realize you brought Gabe. How you doing buddy?” Andy had turned to Felix, and your eyes widened, mind flashing back to the day you met Seonghwa and Felix.

“So how about we skip the foreplay and get to the main event?” Andy asked before delivering a blow to the side of Michael’s head.

“Lilith! Get them out of here,” Andy commanded, his in real life wife materializing, enveloping all three of them in her arms and rematerializing down the road.

“Hwa!” You cried, pulling him into your arms, clutching tightly onto his leather jacket.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,”

Nobody saw the hand come up from behind.

One second, you were hugging tightly onto Seonghwa and the next you felt your head twist, and then you felt the words “I love you” die on your lips.

“Y/N!” Seonghwa screamed before he was kicked in the chest, causing him to fly back into a dumpster.

“Lucifer!” He screamed, needing to bring her back. The Prince of Darkness appeared, his eyes widening. Angels were never supposed to hurt humans. He got cast down for giving humans the ability to choose, in fear that it would hurt humans in the long run. Whereas on the streets of Chicago, an angel was able to kill a defenseless human.

“Get behind me,” he told Seonghwa, who grabbed your limp body in his arms and pulling you behind Lucifer, still trying his damndest to wake you from what felt like his worst nightmare.

Lucifer let his human form fade, causing everyone to cover their eyes. His long dark brown hair that he was born with came through, his eyes burning blue as fire.

He grabbed the angel that killed Y/N by the arms, ripping it off at the sockets. That was only before Lucifer burned the Angel’s eyes from his skull.

“Dad really thought keeping the light bringer into the darkness was a good idea? I’ve got 10,000 years of light that’s built up in me. Leave here… Now…” he growled, all of the angels smart enough to leave. Michael however, stalled in his retreat.

But without saying a word, Michael transported back to Heaven. Off to face the wrath of the father that cast Lucifer out all those years ago.

Once they were gone, Lucifer ran towards Seonghwa who was clutching your lifeless form, his hand touching your now cooling cheek.

“Come on Bunny. Open your eyes for me,” he cried, wiping his tears from your cheeks.

“She’s gone, I’m sorry,” Lucifer put his hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder. Seonghwa stood up, his wings trailing behind him, the crack splitting the soft white feathers.

“She’ll be downstairs when you fall,” Lucifer piped up, knowing with a touch to her skin that she was a resident of his realm now.

She’d broken too many rules earth side to be welcomed in Heaven.

“How do I fall?” Seonghwa asked. If there was anyone to give him firsthand knowledge about being a fallen angel, Lucifer would be the one to ask.

“Are you sure about this? This isn’t something you can go back on,” Lucifer asked, recognizing himself in Seonghwa’s eyes.

“I’m sure. I fell in love with her. That’s why they’re here. Wanted to stop a Nephelim from being made,” he spoke and Lucifer nodded.

“Oh Mikey!” He called out to the sky, knowing that Michael would be watching from the Chromium Chamber.

“We had to,” Michael spoke and Seonghwa looked at him with malice in his eyes, with a hint of resolution in them as well.

“Have you chosen to willingly fall?” He asked, avoiding looking at Y/N’s body.

“Send me to hell,” Seonghwa growled, standing on his feet and stabbing Michael with a pocketknife in Y/N’s boot: a habit she still had from her childhood when she was growing up in less than ideal neighborhoods.

But attacking an angel is the only way to fall that he could do in this alley.

Why couldn’t he have just met you before he died and went to heaven? Why couldn’t you have been the friendly face at the diner?

He wasn’t going to lose you when the two of you only got to be together for what seemed like a heartbeat.

The pain was instantaneous when Micheal glared at the now fallen angel. Michael transported behind Seonghwa, grasping his wings from the base, making him squirm instinctively.

“Go to hell,” Michael spat as the wings tore.

Lucifer transported both you and Seonghwa to his office in Hell.

Lilith had found Y/N’s soul and brought her to the office, guessing correctly where her husband would teleport.

“Y/N!” Seonghwa ran towards your soul while Lucifer laid your corporal body on the bed.

“What we can do, since your body is here, is make you a demon. You’d have more power than a regular soul. And your boy fell so nothing will get in your way now,” Lucifer offered and you nodded, not fully grasping that you were dead now.

“Do it, please,” Y/N looked in Lucifer’s eyes, the begging in your voice matched the begging in your eyes.

Never in your wildest dreams had you thought that the leader of one of the biggest rock bands was actually Lucifer.

A gasp left your corporal body, the soul vanishing at once as you opened your eyes.

“Lucy?” A knock resounded at the door.

“Come in Gabe,” Lucifer called out, knowing then that Lilith had gone the extra mile to ward off his office. Seonghwa took a defensive position in front of you, shielding you from Felix.

“I’m leaving Heaven. I won’t do anything to harm you two,”

“You can’t leave Heaven,” Lucifer argued before either you or Seonghwa could call his bluff.

“Well I figured it out. If you ever need me, just touch this,” Felix handed Seonghwa a metal necklace that had a bird mid flight etched in the gold.

“I’m so sorry I let this happen,” Felix apologized before vanishing, not wanting to stay in one spot for too long. For fear than Heaven would hunt him down.

“I think my kitten is being naughty. What do we do when she’s being naughty?”

“Punish her,” You mumbled, not wanting him to hear you.

“I’m sorry, speak up, I couldn’t hear you,” You shook your head. He grasped your chin in his other large hand.

“I said speak up,” His voice deepened as he slipped into his more dominant persona. The one that made you shake and cry for him either to stop or keep going.

“I don’t wanna,” You whimpered.

“Why not?” He demanded.

“Bcause,”

“Because why?”

“I don’t wanna get punished,” You finally gave him what he wanted. So he had heard you right. And from the look in his hard almost black eyes, he had your punishment picked out.

“Pick a number over 5,”

“Eight,” He smiled a little, knowing why you picked that number. He sat you on his lap. His eyes tracking you like a panther waiting for his prey to enter the trap.

“Bend over Kitten,” You obeyed, resting your belly on your boyfriend’s lap with your ass in the air.

“Good girl,” He purred before ripping your lounge pants down your legs, knowing full well that you weren’t wearing panties since you two were originally winding down  for bed after your shower together.

“Count for me,” You nodded.

Smack

“1,” Your voice was clear in his ears, despite the handprint that was starting to become visible.

Smack

“2,”

Smack

“3,” Your voice started to waver a bit as you felt his large hand start to sting.

Smack

“4,” It started to burn now, making a tear leave your eyes.

“You’re halfway there baby girl,” He switched hands as his first hand started to now sting from spanking you as hard as he could.

Smack

“5,”

Smack

“6,” Your voice wavered as the smacks started to reverberate and spread to the place you now needed him the most.

Smack

“7,”

“You can take one more. This is your punishment, not mine. And you picked the number, not me,”

Smack

“8,”

“Good girl,” He slowly started to massage your now cherry red ass.

“You might as well ride me, Kitten. Since you can’t lay back,” He leaned back, patting his lap, where his cock was strained against his gray sweats.

You swung your legs to straddle him, determined to mess with his head and drive him insane.

“Gotta get rid of these,”

“Who’s the boss here, you or me? Huh? Who was the one being a little slut on TikTok. Looking at someone other than me,” He punctuated every sentence with a roll of his hips, the friction on your bare core making your head swim. 

“You, and I was the bad one,” You whimpered.

“Yes, you were being a bad girl kitten. Now for your punishment,”

“You spanked me! Wasn’t that punishment?”

“That was only part of it. Now’s when the punishment really begins.You’re not allowed to cum until I say so,”

“Okay but no using your tongue. That’s not punishment, that’s torture,” he grasped your chin in one of his large hands again, forcing you to lok him in the eyes.

“First off, who made you think you were in charge of your own punishment? And secondly, who said anything about eating that pretty pussy? But now that you mention it,” he got a devious smirk over his plump lips.

Oh shit!

“If it keeps your eyes from wandering, what’s pleasure without a little suffering? Plus I’m starving,” he growled as he threw you onto the bed, crawling up your body, lapping at your legs. As he got to your thighs, he started to suck harder, even biting a bit. At least enough to give you that sweet mix of pain and pleasure that you oh so craved while he was on tour. You moaned as he inched closer and closer to your heat.

Nothing compared to how your boyfriend ate you out, knowing exactly what areas to put more pressure on than others in order to send you to the heavens. Your hands flew to his hair, wrapping it tightly in your face, making a moan leave Seonghwa’s puffy pink lips.

The moans from him caused a vibration to rub on your pearl, making your own moan rip through the air, and your back to arch.

You were only stopped from him putting one of his large hands on your stomach to keep you still. When he introduced his long dexterous fingers to the mix, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Without warning, he stood up, stripping off his own lounge pants.

“I want to feel you cum on me,” He explained before entrapping your lips in a heated kiss. One where he dominated, and you let him. Seeing as you trying to avoid it was what got you partially in this predicament in the first place.

In record timing, he had his pants down, his cock springing free: red and angry from being hard for so long without release. As quick as he was off you, he was back on you, slipping into your damp heat.

With how long he was on tour, you had to take a second to reacquaint yourself with how big he was.

“Fuck Kitten! You’re so tight. I’m almost afraid to move. Almost,” he smirked before pulling your lips into another kiss and rocking his hips. You had to grasp his hair in your hands. You needed to pull on something, and your boyfriend’s silky jet black locks worked perfectly.

“I can tell you’re close Kitten. Cum for me,” He ordered and it was like you were pulled down in the tidal wave of pleasure at his words, not realizing how much you both needed this.

“Atta girl, Just keep listening to me Kitten,” He acted as your lifeboat in the tidal wave, keeping you grounded to your body.

“F-Fuck!” He hissed before you could finally make out his contorted features as he let his own pleasure fill him before filling you to the brim.

Once you both were back on Earth, the first thing Hwa saw was you running your fingers through his silky locks.

“I love you,” You whispered as his eyes fluttered and he could slowly piece together all of your features. The sex hair leading to the look of bliss in your eyes, and finally, all of the hickeys he left on your skin.

You attempted to stand to get water for both of you and some baby wipes to clean up. Except your legs weren’t cooperating.

“Damn Hwa, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk for a bit,” You giggled and he chuckled, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips.

“I’ve got you Kitten,” He told you before throwing a robe on and getting the recoup items.

“It’ll make you think twice about looking at San, right?” He chuckled, handing you the water bottle.

“I don’t know, seeing you get all possessive was kinda fucking hot,”

It was a good thing he tied you up, because if he hadn’t, you would’ve clawed up and down his back already.

He really should talk to the CIA about becoming a torturer if Ateez ever flopped- not that he would let his other baby flop.

Feather light touches mixed with slapping across your sensitive and heated skin made your head spin.

“Good thing I soundproofed our bedroom,” he chuckled as he rolled his body on top of yours, making your eyes shut in pleasure. Only for a slap to your pussy to rip your eyes open.

“Eyes on me princess,”

“I’m pretty sure Prince Charming never tied up the princess or did any of this to her,” you breathed.

“He did, they just never told anyone,” he smirked before moving down your body and coming face to face to your core.

“I missed this so much. You wouldn’t believe how many nights I thought about you like this,” he smiled deviously before nipping at the skin of your inner thigh. A whine left your lips before he began his assault on your pussy, a mix of his tongue and fingers assaulting your bundle of nerves.

“Don’t you dare cum until I tell you,” he warned.

“Or what?”

“Hope you think the bed is comfy,” he told you with a chuckle before continuing his assault.

“Joongie,” you breathed, your back arching as he hit your g-spot with his tongue. He left your core with a pop.

“Not my name princess,” he raised a brow.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” you whined, trying to bring your body closer to his lips.

“That’s better,” he crawled up your body, crashing his lips onto yours while his hands went to work making you a blubbering mess under him. 

You could taste yourself on his tongue mixed with his mouthwash, making you heady.

“Right there Captain!” You left his lips to scream, your hands fighting even harder against the restraints as he pounded into your g-spot and curling his fingers even more, making you see stars.

“You close princess?” He asked sweetly. The contrast of his tone with the look on his face and body made the stars even more pronounced. You nodded furiously, needing him to give you permission before you passed out.

“Use your words baby girl,”

“Yes Daddy! P-please,”

“Please what?”

“Let me cum!” You shouted.

“Good girl. Cum for me princess,” he told you with what Atiny has dubbed Demonline and they didn’t even know how right they were.

With his permission, you finally let the dam release, no control of your body at all.

“I think my princess missed me,” Hongjoong smiled as he released your bindings.

Once you came back to Earth, you saw Hongjoong with a water bottle and the pack of baby wipes that you kept near your bed for this exact purpose.

“How’re you feeling Princess?” He asked, the dominant man nowhere to be found. Now he was your Joongie.

“You haven’t done that in a while,” you breathed.

“Yeah, you too,” he motioned to the bed underneath you that was soaked.

“You squirted,” he gave you a proud smile, bringing you into a sweet kiss.

“Thank god the bed is comfy,”

“Netflix?” He asked and got to work helping you clean up since your limbs were still non functional.

“I missed you so much,” he spoke when you were cuddling after the cleanup.

“Me too,”

“Come with me next time?” He asked and you had to blink, replaying the words in your mind a few times to make sure you heard right.

“I thought you couldn’t,”

“I’m the captain. I’ll talk to KQ in the morning,” he told you before kissing your shoulder and a smile cemented on your face.

When you hit the wall with your back, a little yelp escaped your throat as he continued his steps until you could feel the body heat leaving him. 

You had to gulp as you realize that he completely abandoned the towel somewhere in hunting you.

“Nope, not at all,” you had to look away from him. He knew you too well to know when you were lying.

“You sure about that? Because you can’t look me in the eye right now,” he moved a few loose pieces of hair behind your ear, making you gulp. His voice pitching lower.

“No, I think I’m exactly right. I think you pull out your toys and think of me,” He leaned in to smell your neck, placing feather light kisses until he felt you shiver.

“Prove me wrong Princess. Let me see your Instagram,” he knew he won.

Now he was just toying with you. 

“And if I don’t,” you breathed heavily at your naked boyfriend’s proximity. After his tour in America, you’d become less immune to his intoxicating effects.

“What do you have to hide Princess?” He asked before bringing his lips to your earlobe.

“What kind of dirty things do you have on there?” He growled lowly.

“The girlfriends sent me a bunch of stuff,” you admitted.

“Oh, so that’s it. You don’t want to be punished for looking at my friends,” he grasped your chin in one hand.

“You’re mine,” he growled before crashing his lips onto yours, your arm instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

“Or do I need to remind you?” He asked, the warm brown of his eyes swallowed by lust, the proof poking you on your lower stomach.

“Yes Sir,” you answered his lust with your own. Seeing his dominance did something to you, and he knew it.

“Get on your knees,” he told you, pushing you down to your knees with his large hands.

You slowly got to your knees, trying your best to rile up your boyfriend, and from the impatient look on his face, you were succeeding.

Once you were kneeled in front of him, you wasted no time, bringing him into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks while your hands roamed his stomach and chest, a moan ripping its way from Mingi’s mouth as he leaned his head back in pleasure. After so long on tour, you felt like home to him.

It was worth the time away for the ability to treat you like a Queen. Whatever you want when he’s away, purchased with next day air.

He just wished he could bring you with him.

But that’s a discussion for later. Now, he needed to make you pay for looking at his friends.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, making a makeshift ponytail, urging you to take him deeper down your throat. Tears pricked your eyes as you had to adjust your breathing to accommodate Mingi’s length.

“You can take it,” he gasped as you adjusted your head angle, bottoming out on him.

“F-fuck! Just like that princess,” he spoke in labored breaths.

You released Mingi from your mouth, a small pop sound heard when you finally let him go.

“You gotta breathe baby girl. Breath through your nose,” he told you breathlessly, a euphoric smile on his face.

“Yes sir,” you took another moment to get your breathing under control before kissing the head of his cock, licking the underside to drive him insane. He leaned his head back, a whimper leaving his lips. 

“Do you like that Sir?” You asked, looking up at him from your lashes.

“Yeah, now get back to work,” With that, you took over where you left off, angling your head to the side and taking him to the back of your throat until you gagged.

“That’s right princess, you only gag on my cock, nobody else,” he grunted, thrusting into your mouth until his thrusts became less coordinated and more messy. 

He was close.

“G-good girl,” he purred before he exploded down your throat, and you swallowed every last drop even though it tasted like thick saltwater.

“Did you miss me?” He asked.

“Of course baby,” you answered before he gently helped you up to your feet.