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aemondsbabe · 6 months

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Gevie

summary: you finally agree to go for a ride on sunfyre and your betrothed certainly makes it worth your while

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, aegon being sickeningly sweet, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), breast/nipple play, dirty talk, doin' it on a dragon, gratuitous use of valyrian

word count: 4.5k

a/n: finally proving to myself that i can remain semi-tame with the word count, i bet y'all thought i couldn't do it!! they're fucking around on a dragon. he gets road head, except it's on sunfyre. they're very cute.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A high-pitched yelp rips its way from your throat as you feel Sunfyre move beneath you, stirring up dirt and dust from the floor of the Dragonpit as he beats his wings. Behind you, Aegon laughs, tightening his thighs around yours on the saddle and letting out an excited whoop as the dragon finally pushes off the ground.

“Seven protect me!” You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as soon as you see the world fall away beneath you as Sunfyre rises higher and higher into the air.

“Eglikta, Sunfyre! Sȳz!” Aegon calls out, pulling at the reins on the dragon's saddle as he guides him up and out of the Dragonpit. “You need not be so worried,” he soothes you, his voice loud and clear behind you as he speaks over the air whipping around the two of you, “You are with a highly skilled rider, my lady.” He reminds you sarcastically. (Higher, Sunfyre! Good!)

You gasp loudly as Sunfyre tilts upward, making you lean heavily on Aegon, your back to his chest as the dragon flies higher into the air. “It is not the rider I am worried about!” You call over the rushing wind, not daring to open your eyes as you grasp onto the sturdy leather straps of the saddle, white knuckling the material.

“Sunfyre is a part of me,” Aegon explains for the thousandth time, smiling as he steadies himself on the saddle, wide eyes flicking in every direction as he scans the skies, “I trust him with my life, and I trust him with you.”

This was a familiar argument, one you’d heard many times before over the previous months as Aegon tried time and time again to convince you to go riding with him; it was one of the first things he’d asked of you as soon as the courtship had been arranged nearly a year ago.

You’d finally relented, much to the prince’s delight, when news of your marriage was officially announced. “Consider it an early wedding present, your grace,” you’d told him at the time.

Oh, how you had come to regret those words now that your heart felt like it was in your throat, your hair whipping wildly in the air behind you as Sunfyre climbed ever higher. “M-My love,” you stuttered, trying your damnedest to keep your voice level, “Could we not stay closer to the ground?”

Aegon chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back even through the various layers you both wore to guard yourselves from the cold air. “Bē konīr, gaomagon jāre!” The prince spoke, Sunfyre grumbled beneath you in response. Although you did not understand the command, and certainly not the beast's response, you could feel the bond between your betrothed and his dragon — some invisible current connecting one to the other. (Almost there, keep going!)

“You should trust me more than this!” Aegon laughs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the side of your head, “You seemed to have plenty of it the night of the banquet last week,” he began in that brash, cocky tone you’d grown accustomed to, “When you let me shove my head up your dress in the gardens onc—"

“Aegon!” You chided, one hand abandoning the leather straps long enough to playfully swat him on the thigh.

“What?” He asks, no doubt smirking deviously, “Surely there is no one to overhear us up here!”

Suddenly, Sunfyre tilts forward, righting you in the saddle once again and making you let out an embarrassing squeal. “Gīda, Sunfyre! Dohaeris!” Some small amount of happiness at recognizing one of the words, dohaeris, manages to cut through the fear you feel, making you let out a small giggle. “Almost there, sweetling,” Aegon smiles, one of his hands abandoning the reins to wind around your waist instead, holding you securely to him, “You’ll love this.” (Calm, Sunfyre! Obey!)

Still squeezing your eyes shut, you nod wordlessly, tightly gripping onto his forearm, your thighs trembling around Sunfyre’s saddle. “Are we up very high?” You ask, your voice sounding small, even to your own ears.

Aegon chuckles again, eyes scanning the horizon as the golden dragon finally breeches the clouds, “We’re just as high as we need to be, hush.” The vague answer makes you uneasy, but you do feel slightly calmer as you notice a change in the air. It’s calmer now, breezing around you like a soothing song, making your hair flutter about gently rather than whip at your face. It’s quieter too, you cannot even hear birdsong nor the rushing of air anymore, as if the two of you have entered a void.

“Sȳz, Sunfyre. Gaomagon gīda.” Again, Sunfyre grumbles, his agreement to whatever Aegon commanded vibrating through your body. A moment later, the prince runs a hand through your hair, tenderly brushing it away from your face as he presses another light kiss to your cheek, one arm still holding onto you tightly. “Open your eyes, my love.” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. (Good Sunfyre, keep steady.)

Cautiously, you do as he asks and slowly open your eyes. At first, you cannot see much, blinking to dispel the tears brought on by bright sunlight, but once your eyes finally adjust, you gasp. You can feel your eyes widen to the sight before you, one unlike any you’ve seen before. Aegon had brought you up above the clouds, the dreary grey skies that had once been above you now spread out below you like an endless pale sea. Up here, everything was so bright, slightly pink tinted from the sun, and so stunningly still and calm, the only movement coming from Sunfyre gliding through the air.

“Gods,” you breathe, your grip finally loosening somewhat on Aegon’s arm as you scan the skies before you, “Aegon, it’s…” You trail off, mouth hanging open at a loss for words.

“Beautiful,” he finishes, though when you turn your head to him, his gaze is already fixed on you, the corners of his lips turned up into a barely there smile.

You can feel your face heat up at his attention, suddenly all too aware of how much of your bodies are pressed together on the saddle, of how his arm is still wrapped so securely around you. Despite being so far up in the cool atmosphere, you can feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, your heart beating faster as a pleasant, familiar coil starts spiraling in your stomach – your thighs tightening around the firm leather of the saddle in an attempt to press together.

“You were right,” you smile contentedly at Aegon over your shoulder, “It is magical up here, my love. And so calm and quiet…” You let your voice trail off as you relax into his chest, his warmth encompassing you as Sunfyre continues gliding above the clouds, his beautiful golden scales gleaming in the early evening sunlight.

Every once in a while, pockets in the thick cloud floor open up, giving you glimpses of green farmer’s fields, the blue water of lakes, or the dusty browns of the roads that litter Westeros. The pockets seem to zip by as quickly as they come, leaving you unsure of exactly where you are above the kingdoms. “I feel so far away from everything.” You conclude finally, a strange sense of calmness threading its way through the unease that still blankets your belly.

“Precisely,” Aegon answers, a far-away look taking hold in his dark violet eyes, one you had grown used to seeing over the course of your courtship with the prince.

Now it seemed as if it was your turn to gaze at him instead of the view, letting him have a moment to himself as you admired him, eyes trailing over the gentle slope of his nose, the pout of his pink lips, the alabaster column of his neck. You couldn’t help but squeeze his forearm tighter, trying to ground him you suppose — ironic as it was — to save him from whatever snare he had been trapped in in his mind.

All at once, whatever melancholy had taken hold of him seems to wash away with a small gasp as he comes back to himself, centering you with a calm smile, though to you it may as well be as dazzling as the sparkle of Sunfyre’s scales.

“We are indeed far away up here, sweetling,” he drawls, the familiar smooth, cocky cadence back in his voice sending a shiver up your spine, butterflies erupting in your belly. “Away from court, away from guards,” he continues, trailing light kisses down the slope of your neck and onto your shoulder, relishing the way you sigh and go ever more limp against him, “Away from any prying eyes at all, really.” He finishes, raising his eyebrows in sarcastic surprise as he shrugs.

You can’t help but laugh at his tone, morphing into an uncontained moan as his teeth lightly graze your shoulder, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as your head tilts back against him. “Up here?” You ask, your voice already breathy.

He chuckles against you, low and dirty, “What better place is there, sweet girl?” He asks, rutting against you atop the saddle, making you gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against the small of your back, “There’s no one up here to stop us, no one to see us…” he husks, pressing wet kisses against your neck as his hand, the one not currently wrapped around you, abandons Sunfyre’s reins, coming instead to press against your breasts – his touch, even through your layers of clothing, making your nipples harden, the coil in your belly winding ever tighter.

You whine as he touches you, unable to resist him even after all this time. “Aegon, please,” you whimper, gasping as you feel him unbuttoning your overcoat, sending a chill down your spine from the cold air against your skin. You’re unable to find it within yourself to care when you feel his warm hand, encased in a smooth leather glove, encompass your breast, lithe fingers immediately seeking out your nipple and teasing it relentlessly, “Oh, my love!” You gasp, grinding your hips down against the leather of Sunfyre’s saddle.

He shushes you gently, teeth grazing against the side of your neck once more before you feel his lips curl into a smirk. Slowly, he removes his hand from where it’s nestled beneath your overcoat and dress, chuckling when you whine; quickly, he pulls off one of his riding gloves, tucking it securely into a coat pocket. “Suck,” he says simply, pressing his fingers against your lips. You do as he says without complaint, running your tongue over the digits before properly sucking at them, moaning unabashedly when he presses them further against your tongue. “Gods,” he groans, voice deep and gravelly, “I love being in your sweet little mouth,” he murmurs, letting you suck contentedly for a moment longer, “Such a good girl, drooling around my fingers.”

His praise makes you moan, garbled around his fingers, as your eyes roll back in your head, your head bobbing as you suck, drool pooling at the corners of your lips as you lathe your tongue over his fingers.

All too soon, he pulls them away, making you whine at the loss. However, that quickly turns into a loud, punched out moan when he resumes teasing your nipple, your spit instantly cooling in the air, which only serves to make the bud somehow harder. He groans with you as he spreads the slick around your breast, rutting his hard length against you.

“Sweetling,” he begins, a hint of taunting laughter in his voice, “Do you remember what we did during the last hunt? Hm? Hidden away in one of my tents?”

You whimper, nodding as the memory floods back to you – the two of you sneaking away together during the final night of a large, week long, hunt, leaving everyone else feasting and dancing at the campfires. You were both giggling like children, half-drunk on Dornish wine, when you’d stumbled into one of Aegon’s tents, lips crashing together haphazardly in the dark. It had ended with you on your knees, taking the prince into your mouth as he leaned back against a storage chest, his hands tangled in your hair as your lips and tongue skirted up and down his length.

The memory still floods you with arousal; it hadn’t been your first time pleasuring Aegon in that way, but it had been by far the most daring. “I have not felt your mouth on me in some time, my love,” he teases, moving you back against his length, still trapped in the confines of his trousers, “And we’re so hidden up here, no one to walk in and catch us, it would be a shame not to use the chance while we have it…”

Despite the circumstances, his offer is tempting; you love bringing him pleasure, love hearing the little gasps and moans he makes escape his lips. “How would we?” you ask, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, his violet eyes full of desire, “All the way up here, I mean.”

“You trust me?” Aegon asks, placing both of his hands on your hips.

You nod instantly, not even needing to give his question a second of thought, “Of course, you know I do.” You answer truthfully.

Smiling, he slowly moves his hands until they come to rest at your hips. “Gīda, Sunfyre. Rȳbagon naejot nyke,” he commands the dragon before once again looking at you. “Okay, my love,” he taps one of your thighs, “Just bring this leg up and over the saddle, yeah? Like on a horse.” (Steady, Sunfyre. Listen to me.)

“Oh, definitely, just like on a horse,” you say sarcastically, an attempt to keep your nervousness at bay, which makes Aegon chuckle behind you. Slowly, you do as he says, leaning back onto him for support as you swing your leg up and over Sunfyre’s massive saddle, coming to sit side-saddle atop the beast.

“Okay, good,” Aegon smiles, keeping his hands tight on your waist, “Now just turn…” He murmurs in concentration, patiently helping you turn your torso to face him, and sighing happily when you do. “And the other leg,” he commands, steadying you as you bring your opposite leg back over the saddle, “Perfect.” He praises you as you right yourself again, now facing him.

You give yourself a moment to breathe, getting used to facing the opposite direction. As soon as you look at the prince, though, that coil of arousal that was winding itself tight in your belly starts moving once again when you notice his eyes scanning over your chest, a sliver of your skin exposed from where your overcoat remains unbuttoned, your own underneath pulled to the side.

His eyes meet yours, and he smirks when he notices your own arousal. All at once, the two of you crash together once again – lips colliding together as you moan into each other's mouths, hands grasping onto whatever parts of the prince you can reach; you bite his lip teasingly, making Aegon growl.

“Little minx,” he breathes against your neck as he kisses down your jaw, “Wanting to suck my cock so badly you’d risk life and limb on a dragon.” He teases, smirking when your hands shoot out to undo the ties and buttons at the top of his trousers.

Rolling your eyes, you finally manage to free his length, making him let out a relieved groan. You languidly stroke him for a moment, savoring the broken, choked off moans he breathes into your mouth, the flushed tip of his cock already leaking onto your hand.

“Gods,” he groans lowly, his hips already fucking up into your hand, “Your mouth, my love, please!” He asks, his eyes squeezed shut.

Smirking, you kiss your way down his jaw before carefully leaning forward, pressing yourself against the firm leather saddle until your face is level with him. You give a quick kiss to the underside of the tip, right where you know a little sensitive ball of nerves lies, before you softly run your tongue over the head; you’re a goner as soon as the salty taste of him hits your tongue, losing yourself in the task as always. With a whimper, you begin bobbing your head up and down along his cock, one of your hands coming up to stroke the small bit at the base that you can’t fit in your mouth.

One of Aegon’s hands comes up and wraps itself in your hair, pulling it back and away from your face as he grinds up into the heat of your mouth. “Fuck,” he moans, long and low as he tilts his head back, “So good, so good, fuck.” He repeats, already lost in the way you feel, in how dutifully you pleasure him – just like a good little wife should, and he knows you will be the best wife for him.

You close your eyes, head spinning with adrenaline as you continue pleasuring him, the hand at the base of his cock moving lower to cup his stones and gently roll them in your palm, just the way you know he adores. The effect is instantaneous, a punched-out groan wrenching itself from his throat as his abdomen contracts, making him jerk in your hold. You chuckle around him, drool slipping out of the corners of your mouth as you smile around his length, pleased to have reduced him to such a state already.

The noises he’s making, along with the feel of him in your mouth, hot and heavy on your tongue, make you clench around nothing, whining onto his length, which catches his attention. You hear him chuckle above you, laughter turning to a pleasured hiss when you suck him deeper into your mouth, “Is having my cock in your mouth getting to you, sweetling?” He questions in the same cocky tone you’ve come to know so well, “Making your little bud ache?”

You nod around him as best you can, moaning around him when the hand in your hair clutches the strands tightly, leading you in the exact rhythm he wants as he ruts in and out of your mouth. He lets out a pleased hum, “I’ll take care of you, my love,” he promises, pressing you lower on his length, his eyes rolling back when he feels you spit and gag around him, “Fuck, just as soon as I finish down this pretty throat.”

At that, you redouble your efforts, moaning around his cock as you suck him down eagerly. He starts grumbling in Valyrian under his breath, a sure sign that he’s close, as if the way he was fisting your hair and panting into the cool air wasn’t enough of an indication. Right when he lets out a deep moan of your name, almost sounding in pain, you move the fist around his base faster and press your tongue to the sensitive underside of his head as you suckle on it, one of your hands tugging at his stones in just the right manner.

“Fuck!” He spits out, his body tensing up as he presses you further down onto his cock, a deep, resonating growl leaving him at the same second that his hot seed spurts directly down your throat as his length pulses and twitches in your grasp. You moan at the familiar taste of him, your eyes slipping shut as you allow him to use your throat, swallowing down the last few drops of his seed while he whispers your name again and again in reverence.

Finally, his hips stop twitching and the hand in your hair falls limp, allowing you to pull away from him. You sit up, moaning in surprise when he immediately tangles his hands in your hair again and pulls your face to his, uncaring that you’d swallowed down his spend mere seconds before as he bites your lip and tangles your tongue with his.

You press yourself against him, sighing when you feel the warmth of his chest against yours, his body somehow hot despite the temperature, as if lit from within like Sunfyre. “Such a good wife,” he sighs against your lips, “How have I come to deserve you?”

“We are not yet married!” you laugh, shaking your head as you marvel at him, taking in the way his cheeks are still lightly flushed.

“A moon's time is close enough,” he shrugs, violet eyes gazing at you with adoration, though growing darker when he catches the sliver of your chest still exposed where your coat is open, “Turn back around.” He whispers suddenly, his voice husky.

You don’t bother questioning him, simply nodding, although his hands are already back on your waist, helping you turn back around on the dragon’s saddle.

“Need to touch you,” he explains anyway, contently humming, low in his chest, when you’re pressed against him once more, “Need to make you feel good – you deserve to feel good.” He babbles, mostly talking to himself as he skirts his hands over your body. “Lenton sir, Sunfyre. Soves!” He commands, grabbing at the reins with his still-gloved hand, coaxing the large beast into a slow, smooth turn, although he still held you tightly to him until the dragon was once again gliding – his huge, rosy wings slicing through the air with practiced ease. (Home now, Sunfyre. Go!)

“Where –”

“Home,” Aegon huffs, fingers desperately tugging open the remaining buttons on your coat, frantically pushing the fabric out of the way as soon as the last one is pulled undone, eager to get his hands on your soft skin.

“But –” You start, only to be cut off as he groans impatiently, practically ripping the skirts of your dress in an effort to push them to the side, exposing your smallclothes.

“We’ll have time, sweetling,” he breathes, pushing a hand into the thin fabric, groaning when he feels how wet your slick folds are, so warm against his skin, “It’s not like it takes me long to bring you pleasure.” You can hear the boastful pride dripping from his low voice as he speaks against the side of your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine as your back arches against him.

“Oh!” You gasp as you feel his fingers finally touching you, immediately zeroing in on your aching, swollen bud with a practiced ease, sending electricity zipping up your spine.

“Ooh, someone’s sensitive,” he teases, rubbing tight, wet circles against you as his gloved hand finds its way into your coat again, yanking down the fabric of your dress before he cups your breast, kneading the delicate skin in time with the ministrations to your cunt, “Do you enjoy my fingers, sweetling?”

You nod, already panting heavily in his grasp, your body going from rigid to pliant as you moan unabashedly in the air, not needing to be mindful of your volume all the way up here – Sunfyre as your only witness seems wholly uninterested. He chuckles against your neck as he bites at the sensitive skin, the small pinpricks of pain only adding to the pleasure radiating from your core.

You buck up against him as you feel two of his fingers venture lower, prodding at the opening of your slick heat, gathering some of the wetness there before roughly pushing them into you. You grunt out a curse as you feel them enter you completely, Aegon not bothering to tease them into you as he usually does and instead pressing incessantly against that rough spot within you that makes you see stars.

“Aegon, my love,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand, his thumb catching against your bud as his fingers continue tormenting your center, scissoring and curling within you, “I’m–” You cut yourself off, unable to finish a thought with the way he’s handling you.

“I know you’re close,” he grunts, his hands moving frantically against you as you shake against his chest, one hand plucking and pinching at your nipple as the other fucks into your squelching wet heat, “I can feel this lovely cunt squeezing me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You cry in time with the thrusts of his hand, your head tilting back onto his shoulder as you feel your high creeping ever closer, the fire in your belly growing to a blazing, roaring inferno.

He laughs lowly as he mouths at the spot just below your ear, never tiring of being able to reduce you to such a base state, moaning and writhing in his arms. “Go on, sweetling,” he coaxes you, fingers rubbing up against that rough patch within you ceaselessly as his thumb circles your bud in the same rhythm, “Let yourself have it – you’re so close, let yourself feel good, my good girl, my love.” He begs between love bites, panting against your neck as you fuck yourself against his fingers.

“Aegon!” You cry, your eyes squeezing shut as your entire body tenses with a sob, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into you. Your walls grip desperately at his fingers, coating his hand in your sweet juices as stars explode behind your eyelids, a vicious, loud moan punching out of your chest at the intensity of your high.

Eventually, the waves begin to subside, leaving you whimpering pathetically against him as he continues gently pleasuring you, helping you ride out your peak for as long as your body will allow. After a moment though, his fingers finally come to a stop when he hears your small whimpers and whines, indicating that his touches are bordering on overstimulating you.

He coos lovingly, soothing you with soft touches and kisses against your cheek as he licks your spend from the hand that had been fucking you, savoring your taste with drawn out, dirty moans, taking pleasure in the way it made you blush and squirm like you were still the innocent maiden everyone believes you to be.

“Ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” Aegon murmurs after a moment, violet eyes studying you as he peeks from over your shoulder, “Nyke daor umbagon naejot dīnagon ao.” (My beautiful wife, I cannot wait to marry you.)

You don’t know what the words mean but they sound so beautiful coming from his pouty lips that you cannot help the blush that blooms on your cheeks, the sight making him chuckle.

“Look,” he says, pointing into the distance, “You’ll love this.”

Following the tip of his finger, you narrow your eyes, not seeing anything for a second. Just as you’re about to inquire as to what exactly you’re supposed to be looking at, you gasp, watching with wide eyes as the tallest tower of the Red Keep emerges from behind a cloud.

“Seven,” you whisper, watching as the rest of the large fortress is slowly revealed, followed by the large domes of the Dragonpit and the Sept of Baelor, “Oh, Aegon…it’s beautiful.” You whisper, eyes sweeping over the entirety of King’s Landing, from the waves of the shores of Blackwater Bay all the way to small houses of farmers that lie beyond the city walls, all bathed in the golden, pinky lighting of the setting sun.

“Gevie,” he breathes, gaze entirely fixed on you, on the way you hands grasp his, “Gevie ābrazȳrys.” (Beautiful, beautiful wife)

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @avalyaaa @fan-goddess @hopelesswritergall @toms-cherry-trees @aemshaircare @cuddlejeongin @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog

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#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon targaryen smut #aegon smut #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #aegon fanfic #smut #fanfic #my writing

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highvern · 1 month

Text

Patterns II

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play

Length: ~9.9k

Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives.

But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.

“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.

Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.

“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?”

Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.

Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?

Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project

Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies

Y/N: and joy

Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.”

“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.

Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”

“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.

“And?”

The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.

Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary.

Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA

Y/N: Your honor free her!!!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand

Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :)

Y/N: whore

But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…

Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.

Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?

Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.

—

The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.

As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s.

The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.

The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.

A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.

“Okay, I need to go home.”

Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.

“Why?” You ask skeptically.

Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.

“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”

“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”

“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”

Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”

He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.

Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.

“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.

Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?”

“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.

You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.

When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time.

Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.

“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.

“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.”

Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.

Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.

“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.

“Nope.”

“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.

“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.

Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”

“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?”

“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.

“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.”

You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”

“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.

“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?”

“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.

“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again.

Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect.

“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.

Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything

Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.

Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite

Y/N: im not spooked so easily

Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.

The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company.

Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.

A trio of voices echo down the hallway.

“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.”

The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them.

You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.

Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter.

Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.

“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.

You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television.

Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.

Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body.

Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.

You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.

“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.

You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.

Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.

You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation.

But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again.

You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel.

The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.

He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between..

In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.

The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.

Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.

Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.

Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.

Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.

Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.

The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.

Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.

What is he waiting for? You think.

Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.

But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm.

Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure.

Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in.

Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.

He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.

Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.

But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it.

Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge.

When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again.

But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.

Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.

Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.

She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.

Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover.

The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered.

Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough.

He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.

The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.

“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.

In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence.

The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.

Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.

With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine.

Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.

You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut.

He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.

On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts burned into his skull.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

Wonwoo: Next time?

Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait

The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.

On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing.

More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?

But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.

Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight.

Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing.

His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.

When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day.

Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.

When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door.

Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live.

Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.

Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.

The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat.

A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.

MISSED CALL: Wonwoo

A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.

“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.

He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.

“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.

“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”

“Why?”

It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.

“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”

“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.

“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.

“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”

“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.

Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.

“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”

“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.

You wince, “Sorry.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.

“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”

“Your landlord can’t let you in?”

“Not answering his phone.”

“And Mingyu?”

“Also not answering.”

After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.

Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”

Silence.

“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.”

“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”

Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.

“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.

“Wai—”

Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior drowsiness transforms into irritation.

Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.

It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”

The pause on the other end of the line is heavy.

“I was being an ass.”

“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.

“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”

Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man.

“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.

“…Thanks.”

The call ends.

Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.

If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.

“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.

“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”

Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.

“Wait, let me get some towels.”

Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra.

It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.

Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head.

“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”

Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came.

Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.

Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”

“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.

The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.

You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.

Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.

You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.

While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.

Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair.

“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”

“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago.

Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.

Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”

“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”

“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. “You’ll cope.”

In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway.

How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet.

More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.

“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”

Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently.

Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”

“You’re right.”

“What?” You choke.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes.

You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy.

“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”

Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”

“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.

“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.

He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch.

“Oh! I��m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”

“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up.

You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you.

Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.”

Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants.

“I’m a really, really good actress.”

A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath.

Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones.

A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.

Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.

Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.

He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”

Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.

Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back.

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.

His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt.

A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.

Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.

Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions.

Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.

Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.

Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want.

“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.

You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place.

“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”

Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action.

Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start.

Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.

Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.

“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.

You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.

Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.

Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.

You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate.

Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls.

Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.

“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?”

The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples.

“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”

The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue.

Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.

You snap. “What the fuck?”

He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.

Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.

Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.

Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own.

The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”

His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half.

If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.

Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper.

One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.

“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.

Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance.

Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.

You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.

“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught.

“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”

The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.

You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.

Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.

“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.

Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”

Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again.

It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you.

And you take it.

“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”

Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips.

“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.

The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.

“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?”

His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.

Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing.

Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.”

Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy.

He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole.

“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”

Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.

“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant.

He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.

With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.

Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care.

You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.

You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho @kyeomofhearts @beananacake

#ksmutsociety #kvanity #svthub #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt fanfic #svt smut #🫡 highvern

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cerastes · 4 months

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This is absolutely the Lack Of Reading Comprehension Website, but there's another issue I've noticed that I never see brought up, and it doesn't exist completely excised from lacking reading comprehension, but it's definitely it's own topic.

Tumblr's a Bad Faith Website as well. Like the above, it's not something exclusive to Tumblr, but it definitely defines it in my opinion. A lot of people want to be Right, and disagreements are seen by a bunch of people as something to "win" rather than something to "have". You'll have randos that frame their entire argument against you based on latching onto technicalities to try to prove why you are wrong rather than actually engage with your argument to try and propose something else or turn it around. As someone who was in a debate club during university, I call it "debate-poisoned people" who see arguments and conversations as a sport more than an interaction or, well, an actual conversation to be had, or in other words, that consider every argument as a debate to be had, when a lot of the time, it's not that deep fam, and also the other person never really agreed to play under your rules, because, here's the thing, a debate is a very specific kind of interaction. In a debate, bad faith interaction and trying to erase the very floor the other party is standing on is a valid tactic, it's part of the game. In a conversation or an argument, bad faith interaction and trying to erase the floor the other party is standing on gets you rightfully called a moron who cannot use inference or extrapolation to actually engage with the topic at hand. I had one such weirdo like a week or so ago, even, who used so many words to say absolutely nothing, that I thought I accidentally performed a digital necromantic ritual and had actually found myself face to face with the spirit of Jacques Lacan.

Even in more innocuous, non-hostile scenarios, this still applies: A lot of people are so, so eager to Be Correct On The Internet, that they'll reblog something with a correction or an opinion seemingly so hastily that they did not in fact read the entire post or comprehend it. This feeds into the lack of reading comprehension, but in my opinion, it does also have to do with seeing something that they believe they can correct, and immediately chomping at the bit to correct it without stopping for a second to ask themselves, "Did I read this right? Does this need correction?", and a lot of the time, it turns out, yes, you did not in fact need to correct it, you just had to read it a bit slower without letting your quickdraw hand get the best of you, cowboy. The way I consider this to be Bad Faith, even if it's not really hostile or confrontational, is the long-held belief that The Internet Is Inhabited By People Stupid Enough To Actually Think Or Say Something This Stupid.

I'll be real with you: Yeah, you've seen wild stories on the internet, plenty of them true, about how stupid people can be. No, they do not define the majority of people that aren't you. A wild, flabbergasting story about idiocy gets traction because it's funny and wild. We don't hear stories about how User A made a compelling argument that seemed stupid at first but then turned out that their rationale was incredibly sound as much, because that's not funny and wild and doesn't make us feel good about ourselves, because we'd never make such a stupid mistake. You aren't a sage wearing the floatie of wisdom in an ocean of idiots, no matter what your echo chamber and/or carefully curated internet space makes you think. You are not exempt from having to think about things, and you are not exempt from having to acknowledge people that know things you don't, people wiser than you are out there. This isn't "you are dumb as shit, actually", because I personally believe most people are smart, this is "you are being superficial and too eager to be Correct, which only works to your detriment in the long run and makes you a rather unlikable person".

It's as simple as engaging in good faith, even when you disagree or dislike the other party. Rip apart their arguments properly, instead of trying to disqualify them with cheap gotchas from the get go just because you want to own someone. Yes, sometimes people don't make sense, period, but that's absolutely not as common as people like to claim it happens. Inevitably, you'll run into someone that will actually call out your bullshit and there goes your entire argument. And in less intense settings, really, no one likes a pedant who really wants to be Correct on fucking Tumblr of all places.

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choisanboobenthusiast · 6 months

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The Ring

Pairing: Sub!Hwa x fem reader

Genre: smut MDNI

Word count: 6k

Summary: Seonghwa comes home after a day of schedules in that YSL shirt. After thinking about him all day you finally get to play with him and he wants nothing more than to let you.

If you want a nice audio to go along with this story @sugarnspice630 posted this one and it just fits sooo perfectly I couldn’t resist adding it.

Warnings: extremely sub Hwa, so much nipple play (duh he’s wearing that shirt), oral/fingering (f receiving), toys, ass play (m receiving, the bulk of this fic is ass play, if that’s not your thing don’t read this), overstimulation, dacryphilia, cum eating, slight choking, name calling, praise, slight degradation, begging. If I missed anything please let me know!

a/n: hiiii, it’s been a while! I’ve been working on this for ages 😭 I just didn’t have motivation to write anything for a long while. However, this shirt on Seonghwa made me go absolutely bonkers like I just wanna play with his nips y’know? I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to @shinestarhwaa for requesting subhwa 🫶🏻 Feedback and reblogs are super appreciated :) (and yes I chose The Ring as the title to be funny bc well… you’ll see)

masterlist

You had been hanging around the house all day by yourself, trying to keep yourself busy with random tasks, watching your favorite show, playing videos games, even cleaning. You'd gone as far as getting yourself off three separate times but no matter what you did you couldn't distract yourself from all the dirty thoughts you were having about your boyfriend.

You had woken up early with him when his alarm went off even though you had the day off of work. You always liked waking up with him, even if it was at the ass crack of dawn sometimes. It meant you'd get a few snuggles in with him before he had to leave, which you appreciated since he would often be gone literally all day. Today wasn't any different except you cuddled too long, causing him to be a bit behind on getting ready. He showered faster than you'd ever seen him do. Seonghwa was usually the type to take his time as he took his hygiene and self care routine very seriously. But today he just didn't have the time, he had a photoshoot and various other schedules to get to.

It had all started when he came busting out of the bathroom back into your room, clad in nothing but the small beads of water he had failed to dry off of himself. They sparkled against his tan skin under the dim light of your bedside lamp and his wet hair hung messily around his face. It's not like you hadn't seen Seonghwa naked before, of course you had, plenty of times but there was just something about the way he looked in that moment, naked and wet, that made you instantly want him. You couldn't help this was yours bodies response and Seonghwa couldn't help that he didn't have time to do anything about it. No matter how much you whined about it.

You had eyed him up and down as he walked over to the dresser, definitely not staring at his cock as it hung soft in between his legs and certainly not thinking of making him late by putting it in your mouth. Your lingering gaze didn't go unnoticed by Seonghwa as he chuckled, facing away from you while he grabbed his clothing out of the dresser, his cute little ass on display for you. Your panties suddenly soaked at the mere thought of bending him over the dresser so you could play with him. You weren't sure what had come over you so early in the morning, the sun not even up yet, but you were never one to ignore your desires and Seonghwa was never one to deny them.

"Seonghwaaaa." You whined as you crawled to the end of the bed, grabbing his ass playfully as you stood next to him and began to pepper his shoulder with kisses, your other hand playing across his stomach.

"Yesss." He giggled at your actions.

"You can be late can't you?" The hand you'd placed on his stomach flitted up to his chest, your thumb just barely catching one his nipples as your other hand massaged his ass.

"Ughh." He groaned in frustration, his head tilting back slightly. "This is really important, I can't be late today and I'm already running behind- ah!" You had let your hand wander further south to stroke at his slowing hardening cock. He breathed in deeply before catching your wrist in his hand and removing it, apprehensively, from his appendage. "I'm sorry, baby, I really can't."

You groaned but accepted your defeat, telling him it was alright to which he kissed you sweetly on the forehead and promised to make it up to you later when he got home. And it was that promise that had you on the edge of your seat all day.

Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, you heard the front door unlock. You nearly ran from your spot on the couch to meet him, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw him. He had been styled to all hell, but in the best way possible. He wore a pair of dark slacks, his hair straightened and framing his face perfectly. On top he had a blazer that matched the pants, underneath he appeared to be wearing something very sheer, it piqued your interest.

"Wow." You gawked as you strolled closer to him. "What's all this?"

"Got to keep the outfit today." He beamed.

"It's nice." You fiddled with the front of his jacket, trying to take a peak inside as unobviously as possible but he caught on quickly.

"You wanna see the shirt?" He cocked an eyebrow at you. You only nodded, a devious smirk playing on your lips. He laughed lowly, removing his jacket to reveal a long sleeve blouse, completely sheer and extremely see through. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, gosh he really was so beautiful. "Like it?" As if he even needed to ask, you were practically drooling as you eyed his toned torso throughout the fabric, paying close attention to the way it brushed over his nipples whenever he moved.

"Love it." You answered, placing your hands gingerly on his hips before leaning in to kiss him. "You look sexy, baby."

He didn't bother responding, instead lifting his hands to snake them through your hair as he kissed you back. You groaned into his mouth as you pulled your bodies together, your hands finding their way quickly under his shirt to roam over the soft skin of his back. You stayed like this for a little bit, just kissing, hands roaming, tongues sliding together, breath quickening. His pants did nothing to hide his growing erection, every passing second you could feel him growing harder, pressing into you. You had been waiting all day to touch him, to feel him up against you, to play with him how you knew he liked. Now that you finally had him you were becoming restless more quickly than normal.

Still standing in the entryway, you suggested moving things to your bedroom, he was quick to agree. You could hardly keep your hands off each other as you made your way there, stopping every couple of steps just to kiss and touch.

"Been thinking about you all day, Hwa." You said, your hands chasing after his hips as he backed into your bedroom.

"Oh yeah?" He pulled you flush to him, fingers tickling at your collarbones.

"Mhm." You smirked and dipped your hands down to grab at his belt buckle. "You gonna be a good boy for me?" He nodded as you began to undo his pants, smirking at the effect these simple words had on him. "Yeah?" You unzipped his slacks and pushed your hand into them, feeling his hard cock through his underwear. "Gonna let me play with you until I'm satisfied?"

He groaned at the contact. "God, yes." His normally sweet and innocent eyes had turned lustful in an instant, staring down at you with need.

"So hard already, baby." You continued to palm him through his boxers.

"Been thinking about you all day, too." His fingers dug into the skin of your shoulders as his eyes closed. His mouth fell open slightly as you snaked your hand inside his underpants. You grabbed him gently, stroking his length slowly and running your thumb over his leaking tip. "Can I touch you too? Please."

Without a word you retracted your hand and rid yourself of your top, leaving your chest completely bare for him. "You can touch me up here but not anywhere else yet. Got it?"

"Mhmm." He wasted no time, his hands flying to your tits as soon as you gave him permission. He pinched at your nipples, rolling the hardening buds between his fingers while he kissed down your jaw, relishing in the tiny noises he drew from your lips. "So pretty." He mumbled, his lips making their way to your neck.

He continued to massage your breasts as you returned your hand to it's previous position, allowing the other to explore underneath his top. He loved the way you touched him. Loved how your hands felt as they grazed his stomach and flitted up to caress his chest. He was always so sensitive to your touch, his body jolting at the feeling of your fingers on one of his nipples, a tiny whine escaping him. You let your thumb rub slow circles over the bud as he grabbed your face in both his hands, kissing you hard. You kept your ministrations up as his tongue entered your mouth with ease, tasting you like it was his first time.

Still slowly stroking his cock you pinched and pulled at his nipple, earning yourself a string of whines and groans as his head tilted backward. There was nothing prettier than the sounds he made and you couldn't wait to pull more out of him. "Take you clothes off and get on the bed." You instructed, pulling your hands from him. "But leave this pretty little thing on." You fingered the hem of his shirt.

He followed your instructions immediately, taking his pants and underwear off hurriedly before getting on the bed on his back, propping himself up slightly on the pillows. His cock twitched against his stomach, leaking beads of precum onto his skin and shirt as he waited for you to come touch him. He stared at you hungrily, anticipating your next move, the mystery of what you might do sending excitement through him.

Today you weren't going to make him wait, mostly because you were so worked up already yourself. Usually, you'd tease him until he was begging and squirming, which admittedly didn't take all that long. But today you wanted to please him and then make him get you off afterwards, although you knew it wouldn't take anything to convince him. So before joining him on the bed you sauntered over to the closet, grabbing a box from the top shelf. Inside the box was every toy you and Seonghwa owned, save for some things like restraints and lingerie, neither of which were in your plans for the evening. Typically you'd just pick a toy and surprise him but you were feeling generous and wanted to let him choose.

"What do you want today, Hwa?" You asked, peeling the lid from the box and coming to sit beside him.

He looked at you wide eyed, surprised you were asking. "Whatever you want." He answered.

You set the box on the nightstand and touched his thigh gently. "I want you to choose, baby." You smiled, stroking his skin lightly. "Just pick what you want and set it on the bed." You turned your head away, wanting to be surprised.

You felt the bed shift a little underneath you and then heard him sifting through the box before he whispered out a meek "okay."

When you turned back to face him you were surprised to see three toys laid out next to him as opposed to one, which you were expecting. "Aren't we being a little greedy here?" You teased, taking note of the fact that they were all his and none were yours. "These are all for you, what about me?"

He was apologetic immediately. "I-I can put one back or swap one out-"

"Well, we're definitely not doing that." You nearly laughed, closing up the box and placing it on the floor before putting his chosen toys in it's place on the bedside table. "You chose these three things, we're gonna use all three. I guess you'll just have to work extra hard to get me off yourself then, huh?"

"I'll be good, I promise." He sat up, leaning into you, caressing your sides and kissing your shoulder. "Wanna make you cum." His fingers flitted back up to your chest, toying with your nipples once again as you sighed and turned to kiss him.

Before you knew it you were lying on your back, head pressed into the pillows with Seonghwa in between your legs, knuckle deep in your pussy. He had already made you cum once from just his fingers and was now determined to get you off again with his mouth. He loved how you writhed beneath him when he sucked on your clit and pulled at his hair when he curled his fingers inside you just right. You were a wet, sticky mess beneath him, gasping and moaning as your cunt clenched around him repeatedly.

There were few moments were Seonghwa got dominant but with his face pressed in between your thighs he leaned into it quite a bit more, which you never complained about. He'd edge you and overstimulate you until you switched roles again. You'd get this tone in your voice that let him know it was time to stop or give you what you want. And being the good boy that he was, he'd always listen.

"Fuuck." He groaned out, eyes darting upward to look at you, lips still attached to your leaking core. "Taste s'good." You couldn't find it in you to respond, at least not with words. Instead, gripping his hair tighter while grinding against him. While he played the dom part in this position, it was really you who was in control. He knew it, and loved it, wanting nothing more than to be controlled by you. "Fuck yes, baby, fuck my fingers." He was relentlessly pushing his digits in and out of you, an obscene squelching sound filling the air as he licked and sucked on your clit. He felt your walls clenching down on his fingers, watching your eyes roll back. "Gonna cum?"

"Mmm!" You whined, still unable to form a single coherent thought. The only thing on your mind the feeling of Seonghwa's long tongue dipping into your entrance with his fingers, your clit catching on his nose, your whole body seeming to light on fire at the sensation. Seonghwa loved it when you rode his face, wanted to be covered in your slick by the time you were done. You, of course, would grant his wish every time.

As you ground onto him with a tight hold on his hair he groaned lowly into you, the vibration of his voice sending you over the edge. Your body trembled and shook as you came undone, your legs snapping closed around your lover's head as he worked you through your high. As your body went slack he slowed his movements, massaging your thigh with his free hand and peppering kisses along your skin gently. He removed his fingers slowly, rubbing them through your soaked folds a few more times before you gave his hair a harsh tug. He got the message, retracting from your sensitive core completely and lifting his face to stare at you.

With your bare chest heaving, you looked down at him, and what a sight he was. His face glistened with your wetness, smeared across his nose and cheeks, dripped down his chin and with a wide smile and sparkling eyes he licked you off his lips. He sighed out, resting his cheek on your inner thigh, both his arms still hooked around you as he stroked your skin lovingly.

"I did good for you?" He asked.

"So good." You mused, sitting up a bit, your hand still tangled in his dark locks, you pulled him backward. He didn't resist, allowing you to do what you wanted. "Now it's your turn baby boy."

Seonghwa had grabbed three toys, a vibrating cock ring which you planned to put on him right away, and a butt plug and vibrator which you planned to tease him with until he was crying. You made him lie on his back first, sliding the cock ring onto his shaft and placing it just below the head, the vibrating part on the underside where you knew he liked it. He fisted the sheets while you stroked him lazily, not yet turning on the vibrations. His lips trembled as he watched you rub your palm over the head and pump him slowly, little gasps and groans escaping him.

"Feels good?" You questioned, although you already knew the answer.

"Fuck, feels so good." He answered.

"Ready for more?"

"Please." He nodded eagerly.

"Flip over, hands and knees."

He did as you said, switching positions to get on his hands and knees. He knew what was coming of course and his body shook with anticipation. You trailed your hands over his back, massaging him lightly, squeezing his shoulders and neck gently, raking your fingers through his hair. He still wore the shirt he'd come home in, it hung loosely around his shoulders as the hem brushed across the mattress. You let your hands travel down his sides and over his hips before squeezing his plump ass in both your hands, being sure to massage the flesh there too. As you did so he fell forward slightly, now supporting himself on his elbows as his breath quickened.

You grabbed a bottle of lube, dripping some in between his cheeks before coating your index and middle finger in the substance. You carefully rubbed your fingers over his hole, his breath hitching at the contact. You kept a slow pace, prodding your middle finger into his entrance just slightly before removing it to rub over him again. Simultaneously your free hand wandered over his soft skin, squeezing his cock and pinching his nipples, drawing out little whines from him. Any minute now he would start begging you to fill him and fuck him and let him cum. You sunk your middle finger into him completely and he groaned out into the sheets, his fists clenching at the feeling of you moving in and out of him slowly.

"Please, more." There it was. He lifted his head from the pillow it had been shoved into and peered back at you, his big brown eyes pleading as he whimpered for more. "Please, baby."

"Want another finger?" You asked.

"Yes, please." He nodded.

"Since you're being such a good boy."

You complied with his request, slotting your pointer finger in slowly next to your middle finger. He watched you still, mouth agape as you stretched him out, nearly drooling as you pumped you fingers a little faster. He groaned and closed his eyes, giving himself over to the pleasure and burying his face back in the pillows. Eventually your fingers moved quickly in and out of him, your other hand nonstop toying with his nipples. His body was shaking with every thrust of your fingers, moans and whimpers escaping him as you pinched and pulled at his sensitive buds which were now red from being played with. You purposely avoided touching his leaking cock all that much, wanting him as desperate as possible.

"P-please, fuck me." He whined into the pillow, his hips moving involuntarily with the motions of your hand. "Fuck, pleeease."

"You want your toy now, baby?" You slowed your movements, finally dropping your hand down from his chest to stroke at his cock, red and leaking all over the sheets.

"Yes, y-yes, want you to fuck me." He pleaded, voice shaking, taking on a high pitched tone. "P-please, please, I've been so good. Been a good boy. Wanna cum." He babbled on.

"You have been a good boy." You agreed, carefully removing your fingers from him. "My good boy." You grabbed his vibrator from the nightstand, lubing it up generously. It was certainly larger than your two fingers, but you knew he could take it. You rubbed the toy over his hole, prodding his entrance with the tip of it. "You're such a little slut, Seonghwa," He groaned. "Asking me to fuck you with three different toys. Begging me to fill you up."

"Yes, please, f-fill me, please." He was grinding his hips back onto the toy, desperate for it to enter him.

"You love it when I stretch you out? Fuck your tight little hole until you're crying?" You started to push the toy into him at an extremely slow pace.

"Please please please." He begged. "Please, more. Want m- unghh." He moaned as you turned on the vibrations, pushing it in further.

"I love it when you beg me, baby." You reached for his cock again, this time flicking on the cock ring. His whole body shuddered as you did so, causing the toy to slip in further and the most obscene sounds to fall from his lips. You began to slowly move the toy in and out of him, pushing it deeper with each thrust as you pumped his cock in unison. "Doing such a good job." You praised. "Taking it so well, Hwa. Does it feel good?"

"Yes!" He nearly shouted. "F-fuck, it feels so good. Love when you fuck me."

You continued like this for a little while, fucking him harder and faster but not yet letting the toy sink all the way in. You were honestly surprised he hadn't cum yet with the way he was mewling and gasping for air. At the very least you knew he must be close.

"D-deeper." He whimpered. "Need it deeper."

"Oh yeah? My baby boy wants the whole thing?" He nodded eagerly and whined when you gave him what he wanted. With the entire length of the vibrator sheathed inside him you released his cock from your hold and brought your fingers up to curl harshly into his hair. You pulled his face up from where it was in the pillow, his eyes wide as he looked back at you, face flushed, a bit of drool dribbling down his chin. You were no longer moving the toy in and out of him, instead just letting it sit inside him as it buzzed. Nearly every breath he exhaled was accompanied by a broken whimper, his mouth agape as he stared at you with all the admiration in the world. Without warning him you turned the vibrations up, hitting the button twice to put it at it's highest setting.

"Ah!" His breath hitched violently, the muscles in his back and arms tensing. His tanned skin now glistening with a sheen of sweat. "Please keep f-fucking me. Wanna cum. Let me cum please."

"Seonghwa, you can cum whenever you want, my prince."

"Mm-mm." He shook his head. "Don't wanna cum unless you- unless you're fucking me. Need you to fuck me." His voice trembled as he spoke and the way his fingers dug into the pillow told you he was holding back on purpose.

"Fuck, Seonghwa." You groaned at the sight of him, the throbbing in your pussy growing greater by the second. "Just need to have your ass fucked, huh?" You began to do as he asked, moving the toy in and out of him again, your other hand still gripping his hair. "Can't cum unless I play with your little ass? Fuck, look how good you're taking it." You released his hair, smacking his ass hard. He let out a high pitched strangled moan.

"Harder, please." He whined and you complied. Though you weren't sure if he meant fuck him harder or smack his ass harder, you opted to just do both. Going as fast and hard as your tired wrist would allow you to with the toy you slapped his cheeks a few more times, red marks beginning to form immediately. He was shaking now, a near constant stream of whimpers escaping his throat.

"Wanna cum?" You asked, obviously already knowing the answer.

"Yes, yes, yes." He cried.

"Play with your cock then." You demanded.

He did as you said, snaking a hand underneath his torso to stroke himself needily. "Ahhh, I'm g-gonna cum, gonna cum for you."

"Dirty boy. Gonna cum from getting your ass fucked?"

"Yes! Fuuuuck." He was pumping his cock quickly, hips stuttering as he tried to simultaneously fuck into his fist and move his ass back on the toy. "Right there, oh fuck, don't stop!"

"When you cum you're gonna catch it all in your hand, understood?"

"Mmmmf!" He nodded.

"That's my good boy."

With your praise he fell apart, his other hand coming down to catch his release as his entire body shook. His voice cracked as he moaned, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as he rode out his high.

"Good fucking boy, cumming so much for me." You continued to praise him as he shot his load into his hand. "Make sure you don't drop any or you'll be in trouble."

Once the trembling in his his legs died down you removed the vibrator carefully, setting it aside before turning off his cock ring. Seonghwa stayed in his position, face down, ass up, chest heaving, tiny sounds still managing to be heard from him.

"On your back now." You helped him turn over, gazing at his fucked out face. Strands of his hair stuck to his forehead, his cheeks flushed red and he glistened with sweat everywhere. "Use your cum as lube, I'm gonna ride you." You instructed, grabbing his butt plug off the nightstand. "And get this nice and wet for me." You presented it to him and he followed your directions, lubing himself up with his own release, gasping and whining at the feeling of overstimulating his softening cock. He then reached his hand out to rub it around the butt plug and without having to be asked shifted the cock ring to rest at the base of his shaft instead of the head. "You're being so good for me, baby." You cooed, rubbing the flesh of his thighs gently. "Now show me your little ass. You want it plugged up don't you?"

He nodded fervently. Hooking his hands behind his knees, not seeming to care one bit that one of them was fully covered in his arousal, he pulled them towards his chest, displaying himself for you just as you'd asked. His cock twitched against his stomach as he stared down at you In between his legs, rubbing the plug over his abused hole. He was fully hard again almost immediately, throwing his head back with his eyebrows threaded together as you pushed the plug past his rim. He squeaked when the plug settled fully in his asshole and you ran your hands along his legs, admiring him spread out before you.

"So pretty, Hwa." You complimented, pulling his legs back down onto the mattress and straddling him. "My gorgeous boy." You slotted your wet pussy right over his dick, grinding yourself over him, leaning forward to kiss him. His hands grabbed at your ass, encouraging you to continue to move. A bit of the cum that was still left on his hand now transferred to your skin but you didn't care, you'd both need a shower after this anyways. "This shirt looks so good on you, baby." You sat up a bit to trace his collarbones and shoulders through the sheer material before bringing your fingers down to his nipples, circling your thumbs over them gently. His breath caught in his throat, his body jumping slightly. "Awe, my baby's so sensitive." You pushed his shirt up, bending down to attach your mouth to one of his nipples, circling your tongue around it and nipping at it carefully with your teeth as you continued to pinch and pull at the other. This earned you a series of whines and his hands in your hair.

"Fuck. Please, wanna be inside you." He breathed.

"Oh yeah?" You pulled away from his chest and his own hands found their way to your breasts, giving you the same treatment he'd just received. You sighed out and closed your eyes. "Want you inside me too, Hwa."

You reached down and turned the vibrations back on his cock ring, causing him to jolt at the sensation. You pumped his hard cock a few times, sliding the tip through your folds and over your clit, both of you moaning. You lined him up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto his length, the cock ring coming in contact with your clit as he bottomed out. You planted your hands on his chest as he grabbed at your hips, looking up at you with stars in his eyes, eyebrows pinching, mouth agape.

"Fuck baby, your pussy feels so good." His fingers dug into your flesh as you began to move.

Before long you were riding him like your life depended on it, bouncing on his cock quickly. The sound of your wet skin slapping together filled the room, as did both of your obscene moans. You were close to cumming already, the feeling of his fat cock filling you over and over mixed with the vibrations of the cock ring hitting your clit every time you came down on him causing you immense pleasure. Seonghwa didn't look like he was going to last long either, his fucked out expression only worsening with time, tears forming in his eyes, a few escaping. His overly sensitive cock just taking what you gave him. Eventually you collapsed onto his chest, grinding your clit over the cock ring while kissing his neck fervently, nibbling at his earlobe, making sure to whine right in his ear.

"Fuck, you're gonna cum aren't you?" He asked, voice cracking, slapping your ass harshly as you nodded into his shoulder. "Fuck yes, baby, cum on my cock." He encouraged, smacking your ass again. "Gonna cum with you. Gonna fill up your pussy. Can I? Fill up your slutty little cunt?"

“Fuck yes, Seonghwa.” You gripped his hair, feeling the coil within you getting dangerously close to snapping with his words. “Be a good boy, cum inside me. Fuuuck, I love your cock.”

“Please! Please cum!” He shouted suddenly. “S’too much, I can’t.” He let the tears flow freely now, it appeared he had been holding them in. With his arms wrapped around your torso he held your body tightly to his, with his eyes squeezed shut and his little sobs falling right into your ear. “Please, need you to cum. Ican’tIcan’tIcan’t.”

You felt his fingers digging into your back, his body shaking beneath you as he cried. You knew if he truly didn’t want to continue he’d use your safe word. Seonghwa took pleasure in the immense overstimulation and enjoyed crying for you because he knew you liked it when he did. “Yes, you c-can, Seonghwa. Doing so good, baby, just a little more- ohh shit.” You felt your orgasm approaching quickly, the heat in your core building. You wrapped your fingers around his neck, applying some pressure. “Cumming, Hwa, m’cumming! Fill up my pussy, baby.”

Didn’t have to tell him twice, he came immediately as your cunt clenched around him, both of your bodies shaking as you climaxed together. He let a loud, broken sob as he released deep into you. You both rode out your orgasms, panting and whining, Seonghwa still crying. After a minute, both your highs died down and you lied on top of him, sticky skin sticking to his as you released your heavy grip on his throat. He tapped at your back quickly.

“P-please, t-turn it off.” You had almost forgotten about the cock ring buzzing around his length. He sniffled as he spoke, his voice sounding pained. “Please! Turn if off, t-turn it off!”

You almost didn’t, considering keeping it on and fucking him again. But with the way he was crying and shaking you thought he might not be able to handle anymore. So you complied with his request, sitting up just enough to reach in between your sweat covered bodies and turn off the toy.

“There you go, baby.” You cooed, petting his face sweetly. He let out a sigh of relief, a jumble of quiet and tired “thank you’s” falling from his swollen lips. His head slumped to the side as his body calmed down a bit. “My prince looks so pretty when he cries.”

You kissed his jaw gently, swiping some of his tears away. You stayed like that for a little while longer, his cock softening inside you as you continued to stroke his skin softly and pepper him with gentle kisses. You couldn’t bring yourself to part from him yet, wanting to be connected to him forever. His breathing eventually slowed, his crying nearly subsided and he began to run his own fingers along your back. You felt his cum dripping out of you, spilling out down the sides of his shaft. You reached your hand in between your bodies once again, this time to collect some of the sticky substance that was dribbling out of you. You swiped your fingers around his dick and through your folds before bringing them up to his face.

“Open up.” You said softly. “Look at me.”

He obeyed. Opening his mouth and jutting his tongue out slightly while simultaneously opening his watery eyes to look at you. You slid your three fingers along his tongue and he closed his lips around them as you pushed them back into his mouth.

“Mmm.” He groaned around your digits.

“That’s my good boy.” You praised. “Do you taste good?”

He nodded and continued sucking on your fingers, swirling his tongue around them and swallowing down the mixture of both your juices. When you removed your fingers he opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out to show you he had swallowed it all. When he closed his mouth he puckered his lips cutely, silently asking you for a kiss. You obliged, pressing your lips sweetly onto his, parting his lips with your tongue. The salty taste of his own cum lingered and you could faintly taste it as you lazily made out. Before long you could feel him hardening inside you once again.

“Getting hard again, Hwa.” You whispered into his ear, placing chaste kisses along his jaw.

“Can’t help it.” He said quietly. “Pussy’s so warm around me.”

“You wanna go again?” You asked, very gently rocking your hips once. He immediately dug his fingers into your side, holding your firmly in place and shaking his head.

“No, can’t.” He almost sounded like he was going to cry again. “Please, can’t go again.”

“Shh, okay, it’s okay.” You pet his hair and carefully lifted yourself off of him. “No more tonight, baby, you did so good for me.” You continued talking to him as you sat beside him and reached down to remove the cock ring, trying your best to distract him from the feeling. “You wanna take a bath?” You began to pull the ring up his shaft slowly and his hands fisted into the sheets. He nodded, squeezing his eyes closed. “Okay, good. We’ll get you all cleaned up.” You wiggled the ring over the head of his cock, which was now bright red and overly sensitive. He sucked in sharply, a tiny squeak leaving the back of his throat as you the ring brushed over his sensitive tip. “Good job, honey.” You set the cock ring to the side and rubbed his arms lovingly. “You okay?”

He released the sheets from his tight grip and placed both his hands on your thighs, a tired smile spreading across his lips as he stared up at you. “I’m okay, my love. You take such good care of me.”

You placed a hand on his cheek and he nuzzled his face into your palm, giving you a kiss there. “Let’s get you into that bath then.” You leant down and kissed him. “Wanna cuddle.”

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #sub!hwa #sub!seonghwa #atz x reader #atz smut #Spotify

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dev1lm4n · 9 months

Text

all glory

masterlist | kofi (support me here!)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel has been feeling insecure, finding it hard to come to terms that he's indeed aging. tommy suggests a clever solution: a post-apocalyptic glory hole

word count: 4.8k of pure filth

warnings: minors dni (18+), post-outbreak, joel is 56 here hehe hot old men, insecurities, glory hole, fingering, unsafe piv, slight breeding kink, no pregnancy stuff tho cuz im terrified of that, reader calls him sir, pet name (darling)

note: i decided to create a kofi bcs im a broke college student lol. anyways hope yall enjoy this, do COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed this :)

Joel Miller had always been a man of confidence.

Being left as a single father for Sarah at an early age, he’s been through thick and thin, trying his best to make ends meet so that they wouldn’t have to end up in one of those run-down shelters. But never once did he question his ability to attract women.

He’s always had it in him. With a mere glance from his expressive eyes, he can ensnare hearts and leave an everlasting impression on anyone fortunate enough to encounter him. Rugged masculinity and striking refinement; a deathly mix that kept girls swarming after him like bees. After the world descended into chaos, he’s not much different either. Perhaps the bone-deep trauma had left him looking eternally exhausted with sunken eyebags, or that gray filaments started becoming a welcomed addition to his beard, but all in all he’s still charming.

He didn’t have to seek, because people seek for him. Joel had plenty of erotic rendezvous in times where society crumbled and the rule of law eroded, more so now that everyday could be his last and he didn’t have the privilege to take it slow like a true Southern gentleman. He’s done it everywhere. Inside a stuffy closet while hiding from a clicking monstrosity, behind a thin wall while her husband sat cluelessly on the other side, and even taking sexual compensation for his little business. Joel Miller wasn’t a saint. Neither he one for God and he’d like to make it obvious.

Nowadays though, within the tall foreboding walls of Jackson City, that type of attention has faded away. He’s no longer getting those longing stares from across the floor, no longer being begged to corrupt just for some extra wad of cards, no longer being flirted and fawned over like a goddamn stud. Joel didn’t have any problem with it at first. He’s growing old. Instead of those naughty strands of white peeking out of his head, he’s now a complete mix of salt and pepper. Instead of just having a fun smile line, forehead rolls and crows’ feet are now imprinted deep into every crevice. Joel wasn’t the man he used to be.

He’s weathered away, he thought, unsuited for fun and adventure.

Perhaps it had something to do with his daughter as well. Even when Ellie’s not from his actual blood, everyone in town viewed her that way. He’s her father. Thus, everyone seemed to perceive and treat him as merely a father and not as an actual person that has his own needs and wants. Joel loved his daughter. Terribly so in ways he couldn’t decipher. A part of him has made up his mind that this would be how he should spend the rest of his life: in celibacy. Though the retirement of his sexual and romantic life has slowly taken a toll towards his self-esteem. Tommy, who’s always known to be rather slow and imperceptive, was surprisingly the first one to take notice of his gradual change.

“Maria told me you might be here.”

Tommy’s gruff voice brought him out of his trance. Joel looked up, meeting the familiar figure crouch to get into his little workshop. It was his newfound hobby these days, becoming a hermit and isolating himself from the community. He’d craft a wooden figure or two each night while he relived each and every one of his memories. Good and bad. Of death and of birth. Then by the end of the night he’d feel mildly satisfied with a wooden sculpture shaped like memorabilia from the old world. Joel couldn’t admit it outloud, but insecurity had taken over him. It festered deep into his soul that he couldn’t even bear looking at himself in the mirror anymore or present himself to society.

“Yeah, just..” he paused to ponder on a better way to answer. “Just doin’ my own thing.”

“You skippin’ dinner again?” Tommy’s curiosity sounded oddly suspicious, enough that Joel already knew he’s about to say something obnoxious or entirely uncalled for. The older quirked his thick eyebrows in return.

“Made myself my own plate,” Joel cocked his head towards where a lone plate sat. Judging from the crimson stain smeared on top, it must’ve been one of those canned pastas that he picked out.

“Brother..” Tommy started out, visibly nervous of how his brother would take it. “Is there something wrong?”

“With me?”

“Yeah, with you.”

“No, not that I could think of,” Joel hummed. “I ain’t bitten or anythin’, why are ya asking such a dumb question anyway?”

“You’re just different these days,” Tommy reasoned with a small frown. “You barely come out of your house and if you do, you’re huddled up in this place, carving things for hours on end.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with wanting to be alone. Is there?” he challenged.

“No, but you’re.. different. Almost like your mind’s troubled for once.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong, Tommy,” he insisted.

Joel was actively avoiding the accusations. He stood up from where he’s been perched upon for hours on end, bringing his half-carved wooden slab with him to set it on one of the displays he had. He’s grown quite the collection. It’s been going on far longer than he’d expected, the crippling fear of being undesirable and hideous, and it brought up an immense feeling of embarrassment. He couldn’t possibly admit such things to Tommy, could he? Tommy was different from him. His first child was on its way to be birthed, but girls still chatter about his charming smile and strong figure. They’d still gossip and make dirty guesses about his size. How long he endured such activities, the position he enjoyed best, and how sweet he was to his partner.

Tommy couldn’t possibly understand his fear.

“You can’t help me even if I told ya,” he grumbled.

“Put some trust in me, will ya?” Tommy chuckled as he spun around his seat to follow Joel’s every move. “Tell me what’s troublin’ you, big brother.”

“They don’t look at me the same way.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“The ladies,” Joel muttered.

His words were barely above a whisper. It almost seemed as if he saw the phenomenon as something humiliating, up to the point where he couldn’t even look Tommy in the eye in fear of having him laugh. He’s never talked about this with anyone else. It didn’t help that he truly didn’t have anyone to talk to in general aside from the few acquaintances his brother introduced him to and well.. Ellie. But none of them seem to be the right person to talk to regarding this.

Regarding his failure in masculinity. His unspoken worries that he didn’t have any of the strong, chiseled jawline or any of the tightly packed abdomen with six separate squares to admire. He’s grown old and weak. Five years ago, he could’ve probably still sweet-talk his way into a woman's heart, but now he couldn’t even look one in the eye without the fear of being put to shame.

“They still do, Joel,” Tommy assured him. He’s telling the truth. Joel knew that Tommy didn’t have it in him to lie, he’d have sounded like a strangled bird or a squeaky dog’s toy if he did. But his mind couldn’t believe it one bit.

“I don’t know, Tommy..” he muttered. “They don’t look at me the same way. They don’t look at me at all even.. and I’m fine with that I 'spose. I ain’t a whorin’ bastard who couldn’t accept that he’s agin’..”

“But they do, Joel.”

“I’m old,” he sucked in the air. “Lately there are these moments where I.. where I’d look a girl in the eye and all I could feel was humiliation.”

“Humiliation?”

“Like they’re lookin’ at me as if I’m some.. some sort of repulsive creature,” he whispered. “I feel like I could hear ‘em gigglin’ with their girlfriends on how shameless I am.”

Tommy was deduced into silence. Time ticked by as he cranked up his brain to figure out the best way to aid his older brother out of his misery. It’s all in his head, Tommy knew that Joel knew that as well, but it’s easier patching up an oozing wound than a troubled mind. He brought his hand together on top of his jeans as he waited for the younger to make another comment, whether of comfort or of a harsh reality.

“I’ll offer you a solution,” Tommy spoke up. “But you gotta promise not to lose your head over it.”

“It ain’t drugs, is it?”

“No, no..” Tommy chuckled humorlessly.

“I’m open to anythin’” Joel dropped his arms to his side as he curiously eyed Tommy.

“Have you ever heard of a glory hole?”

Joel’s expression contorted in such a way that the younger Miller couldn’t possibly read what he’s thinking any longer.

“I ain’t goin’ outside those borders just to go to some sketchy brothel, Tommy. That’d be pathetic.”

“Well, the thing is this whole operation ain’t sketchy,” Tommy reasoned. “The girls were tested and approved by the local doctor before..”

“Local doctor? You tellin’ me this is happenin’ within Jackson?”

“I operate it, Joel,” he sighed, knowing he’s about to be bombarded with a handful of questions. “And before you ask, no this ain’t considered prostitution as there’s no material exchange.”

“You mean..”

“Yes. The girls do it for free. Volunteers. They do it for their own pleasure and I help make their dreams come true.”

Joel looked at his own brother as if he was a mad man. Who wouldn’t? When he’s just told him that they had an actual glory hole installed without most of the public knowing. Or perhaps they knew, they were just not talking about it in front of Joel.

“Ten to twelve. There’s a small house across the sheep field. One girl every Friday night.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy. Maria knows about this?”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

“No, but it’s better off she doesn’t.”

Joel felt his morals set askew for a second. This sounded like a terrible idea, despite the fact that he’s confirmed it himself that it’d be the safest a glory hole could possibly be. He scratched his beard and took it into deep consideration.

In the quiet stillness of a winter’s night, the world was wrapped in a soft, white blanket of snow. The moon hung low in the dark sky - a beacon towards those who chose to travel in the deepest hours of nighttime. Joel blew puffs of warm air onto his gloved fingertips, hoping it��d satiate the coolness that made his joints ache and his skin itch. The air was crisp and biting, each breath producing a frosty cloud which quickly amalgamated into the air. He watched as gentle snowflakes, alike to elegant ballet dancers, fell from the heavens up above and twirled and swirled into an intricate pattern. He’s been waiting for way too long.

“So what are ya sayin’? Are you gonna let me take you tomorrow night?” Tommy broke the silence.

Tommy promised to meet him on the edge of the sheep field, where they’d herd livestocks all throughout the warmer times of the year, but he’s yet to see his tall nose and dark hair from any of the cardinal directions. He’s been waiting for too long to keep the same mindset Tommy’s trained him into, that this was simply a beneficial exchange for every party involved and that he shouldn’t feel shameful for something so instinctive. Waiting gave him time to weigh out the cons, how this was naturally an act of debauchery that wounded both his moral values and beliefs. He ain’t a God preacher, but he’s sure to keep some of those Southern manners.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

None of Tommy’s ideas are ever well thought out. Starting from his sudden gravitation towards the military, to his desires to hand over his entire life towards the Fireflies, and now this. He knew his younger brother wasn’t the brightest of men, but creating an entire glory hole to keep the town’s morale up might be the stupidest one he’s heard yet. Especially when Maria’s not aware of it. He feared for the day when the beans spilled out of its jar, but tonight wasn’t that day. During the time in which he contemplated his decisions, Joel didn’t notice the crunching of snow against thick boots. Tommy was here and he looked far too calm for a self-made procucer.

Tommy beckoned him to follow the path his boots had made. Joel sucked in some of that painfully cold air into his lungs, before he stuffed his hands in his pockets and started trailing along. There were a few street lamps across the field, a ruddy glow emanating from them as they were adorned with a light dusting of snow. He kept his guards up while he scanned through the whistling field of crop, that traumatized part of him always keeping in check of abrupt movements and unsettling sceneries. After a quiet walk for a good three minutes, they finally arrived. The house fronts looked dark enough, and the windows even darker, contrasting with the smooth white sheet of snow upon the roofs.

There was snow piling up outside as well, dirtier ones whose last deposit had been plowed up in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and wagons. He scrutinized over the tracks, wondering if this was meant to be used as a makeshift grain tower. If it was, then Tommy must’ve been a great scheming asshole to turn such a place into his own little heaven. Not one soul was around, which confused Joel even more. Wasn’t this supposed to be a public glory hole? Weren’t it supposed to be disgustingly packed with sweating men, adorned with walls covered in left-over spurts of cum and other bodily fluids, and smelled like sex itself?

Joel continued to pursue Tommy even when he’s overly skeptical about this entirely new scene. His boots were scuffed as he was dragging his feet through the front door, a fight against his defense system that’s begging him to flee out the door at the unfamiliarity. The establishment consisted of a long narrow hallway that eventually led up to an imposing door. Wooden, large, and mysterious.

To his surprise, what was beyond that door wasn’t some tacky sex dungeon with rattling chains and leather whips, it was a modest looking box. Square, he’d assume one meter wide and half a meter tall. He took in the wood it was made from. His pointer finger slowly traced the circumference out of habit. Oak, he concluded, making it sturdy and cool even in the warmer weather. What he failed to notice from the get-go was a pair of legs that were stretched open, chained onto the wall from the considerably-sized gap. Joel’s heart dropped to his stomach, he forgot for an entire minute what he was planning to do, and he’s starting to get cold feet.

“Darlin’, I’ve got someone for you,” Tommy cooed.

“You do, Tommy?”

Normally, people acquire hobbies in order to soothe their brief but occasional boredom, though you have discovered a unique way to tackle long hours of the night. This brilliant discovery of yours was birthed from a fated moment. One where you accidentally stumble across the conversation Tommy had with one of his patrol friends. It began a fantasy in your head. One you didn’t believe could come true until you overheard a passionate storytelling session one of the barmaids gave their friend. Only then did you gather enough courage to talk to Tommy about it. Despite his initial disapproval, saying things like you look too good and gentle to be doing such things, you managed to convince him with a week's worth of nagging.

“Mhm, one of my good friends here,” he hummed. “You’ll let him use you like a good fucking girl, won’t you?”

Goosebumps trailed from your backbone down to where your legs spread wide. Your nervousness made you flinch, effectively causing your legs to rattle against the metal restraints.

“Yes, I will, Tommy.”

When did you get so.. obedient?

“Alright then. I’ll see you in um.. twenty?”

“Thirty,” the foreign voice spoke up, masculine with a twinge of accent.

“Thirty it is.”

The entire room went quiet for an entire minute, only then did you finally hear the door slammed back shut. You swallowed back the throbbing fear in your heart, pushing back those persistent thoughts constantly warning you of the dangers. Even if you trusted Tommy with all your life, you didn’t trust the random strangers Tommy’s picked out. How could you trust them when you didn’t know who they were for sure? They could’ve been someone you see on the daily. The friendly guards, the cafeteria guy who’d always beam a sweet smile your way and give out more bread than standard, or even.. Tommy’s hunk of a brother. The same one who wouldn’t even spare you a look when you’re obviously sending heart eyes his way.

“Darlin’ is your name, ain’t that right?”

There was something so.. alluring about his voice. The type that makes your knees buckle inevitably, despite your best efforts to push it apart.

“That’s right,” you squeaked out.

“Darlin’, it’s been a long long time since I’ve done this, so let me indulge in you alright?”

“Okay,” you breathed out unsurely.

Your eyes instinctively followed the direction of the hushed voice, but all you could see from the dim box was a piece of dark fabric that was hung from above the hole. It was to keep your identity a secret so that the patrons across from you could only see you from the belly button down. Though now you felt more inclined than ever to pull on the draping and meet this man’s eyes. Your thoughts soon diminished when you felt a large hand over your inner thighs. Nowhere dangerous, just resting below where your kneecaps sat. You closed your eyes to try and envision the kind of hands touching you.

Were they soft and unsullied like a baby’s bum? Or were they rough and ridged with years of work?

That large hand traveled down South, inching with an irritatingly slow pace down towards where you ached the most. He was a fair man. He treated both of your thighs in the same manner before the two gathered together in a v-shape over your cotton panties. You wondered if you should’ve worn something more enticing, something which suited a person like you - someone willing to spread their legs for a true stranger. But the man on the other side didn’t seem to have a problem. He didn’t seem like he was bothered by the simplicity of your presentation, instead he was keen on pressing his thumb down the center.

They were the latter.

His fingers were textured and it felt too good to be true. At the briefest touch, you followed after his movement, hips reaching further up to chase after his departing touch. You whined. Frustrated that he’s cruel enough to press your sensitive clit and leave you all hot and bothered. He let out a deep chuckle, one that came out from the depth of his stomach as he placed his thumb back where it belonged. Your hole clenched and unclenched at the stimulating sensation. Your cotton panties seemed to be a great aid for your needy clit. It felt similar to grinding over a pillow, just this time, it felt a lot more real and animated.

“How long have you been doin’ this, darlin’?”

“Doin’ what, sir?”

So polite. It’s laughable the fact that you’re so soft spoken. Your lips spilled out a gentle moan as his thumb dug deeper into that sensitive spot.

“Lettin’ strangers fuck you,” he was frank with his words that’s for sure.

“This is my first time.. in the box that is,” your voice cracked almost immediately under pressure. “Been thinking of this for a long long time though.”

The gruff man hummed noncommittally as he continued to please you with his thumb. You used to be shy when it comes to being reactive during intercourse, but with the box, it almost felt like you could finally be your true primal self with your utmost carnal desires. He slowly eased your stained panties to the side once he saw an increasingly growing wetness, knowing that it’s time to move on to his next way of torture. Your pussy was exposed to the cool air immediately, it felt like the air was nipping at the sensitive skin all around. He took his two fingers - his middle and pointer finger being his favorite choice despite the controversy - and slowly dragged it atop the slick canal.

“A pretty girl like you gettin’ all wet from a little touchin’,” he chided. “You haven’t been fucked well or somethin’?”

What a considerate man. He called you pretty when he could barely tell what you look like.

“No, maybe, I-” you were flustered. You’ve never had to exchange proper talk when someone’s touching your dirty, wet cunt. “None of Jackson’s men did good. That’s why I hoped..”

Your voice trailed off into a garble of nonsense when he teased at your entrance, trying to decide whether you’re soaked enough to push a finger in comfortably. You whined, louder this time, as your legs fought against the uncomfortable metal cuffs wrapped around your ankle. He decided to play nice for once and made your dreams come true by inserting that thick finger of his. Fingering has never felt good for you, it always felt like an intrusion rather than a welcomed feeling, but he’s making it feel like heaven on earth.

“Hoped a stranger would fuck me well enough,” you took awhile to finish that statement.

He let out one of those noises of disapproval, at your skewed moral direction perhaps or at the tone of desperation your voice must’ve let out. You could only suck in a shallow breath when he started making proper, continuous motions with his finger. He pushed upwards to poke the tip of his finger onto that squishy part, playing around to find out where exactly made you react the most. You loved how he’s patient. You’re half-expecting the men to just stuff their cocks in you like you’re some sex doll instead of taking their time, which you don’t mind either. Half the pleasure was from being treated like nothing.

“Dirty gal,” he degraded, which you found both surprising and exciting. “Just wanted her pussy stuffed with any cock she could have, hm?”

Your hips thrusted up at a larger interruption. This time, the man managed to insert two of his thick fingers inside your eased cunt. He twisted it one-hundred-eighty degrees to the left, then back to the right, before he curled it in a come-here motion. The motion had left you dumb. A combination of ah ah ah’s and unfinished pleads for him to keep still. The man never once fully removed his fingers out of you. He’d slowly pull back to only have a single knuckle stuck inside before pushing it all the way in once more. For once, someone didn’t finger you like you’re a pizza dough waiting to be pounded.

“A-ah, sir. I really.. mmh- I really like that,” you moaned out shamelessly. “Feels really good in my.. in my pussy.”

“You like what, darlin’?”

“Like your fingers.. fingers in my ah- ah pussy!” you whined when he deepened his reach by rotating his wrist upwards. “Something- fuck- something’s coming! Please.. Please don’t sto-”

You warned him like a goddamn virgin and there it was, you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the way your pussy squelched around his finger at the new wave of sticky fluids. The noises were filthy and lewd that you were embarrassed for the first time that night. It coated your throbbing cunt and slowly ebbed out of your hole, dribbling down onto the wooden floor boards under. Strings of almost translucent thickness proof of his success. It’s pretty. The way you gaped around his fingers, tightened and relaxed at his fingers that still kept you full.

“Good girl,” he cooed.

He must be experienced, because he was quick to rub your clit precisely as you went through the throes of orgasm. His broad palm never missed where that bundle of nerves were, until you’re dripping all over the place. Only when you’re right towards the end did he land a small smack atop your pussy, keeping pressure where your womb is to maintain the pleasure for as long as you could. It felt like this wasn’t a shit place for once. It felt like this stranger could surely turn the flesh-eating monsters into a field of rainbows and flowers from how good he’s making you feel.

“You taste sweet,” he muttered. “Someone ever told you that?”

It took you a while to notice that his fingers weren’t there to stuff you full. He was busy tasting you. You could imagine him on the other side of the room, rough fingers deep in his mouth, drenched in your arousal. The thought made you squirm, growing wet once more. You shook your head as his hand slid back up. His fingers ran over your clit with one long stroke before they stayed there. His thumb sat right atop the throbbing spot, unmoving.

"Perfect little thing, ain't ya?” he asked, and you nodded, your muscles tense as anticipation ran high. "Gonna fill you up real nice."

As soon as the dull tip of his cock prodded against your entrance, your whole body convulsed. Tears slowly crept into your eyes, frustrated, you might as well cry out a pathetic plea if he kept on stalling. Your palms banged flat against the side of the box. Overwhelmed and on the verge of tears when he purposefully missed your weeping hole. His length slid upwards, the warm tip rubbed against your clit from below before it shied away once more. Your toes curled and he must’ve taken the hint from behind the curtains.

The perfect stranger pushed himself up to where his mushroom-like tip ended, allowing you to adjust to the dimensions of his cock before he eased himself deeper.

You let out a strained moan.

You almost bump the top of your head on the oak boards when he forced his way in. His cock was fully inside you at last. You were ecstatic. Eyes shut close as you bit into your bottom lip, flesh tearing beneath your canines. It was too much all of a sudden. Too good. Too large. Too full. You could hear the loud squelching noise your spongy hole made as he pulled back and stuffed himself back in.

“Fuck,” he groaned silently. “Don’t squeeze around me, darlin’. You're gonna get me in big trouble.”

He chuckled and fuck did it sound so hot.

You felt his fingers gently reach for the width of your hips. His grip was tight and harsh as he guided your every movement with them. He thrusted like a man on a shooting range, with much precision and prowess. You liked this. Liked feeling as if you’re just a doll for people to use and dump their loads in, especially when it's for someone like him. His cock made you writhe and fight against the metal cuffs holding your legs up. Eager to have him speed up to meet your desires yet he was persistent in keeping a stable speed. The sensation was growing. Slowly but surely.

“A-ah.. mmph.. oh God!”

“God ain’t here to save you, darlin’. It’s just this old man right here,” he cooed crudely.

He made sure to keep you full at all times. Never once did his perfectly-sized cock leave your sloppy hole, it just kept on twitching and growing in size with the help of your warm embrace. “You like this, don’t ya?”

“Oh- oh yes. I like it. Love your..,” he stopped your lewd confession by placing his thumb back atop your once neglected clit, drawing lazily with what’s left of your wetness. You could feel him starting to seep. A tinge of his own arousal mixing in with yours. “Cock! Love your c- cock.”

His heavy pants started to intensify in volume, such a lovely melody when combined with your pathetic whimpers. He’s close.

“Gonna cum in you, darlin’” he muttered out breathlessly. “Gonna make sure you’re all fucked out with my cum.”

You couldn’t think straight. Not when you’re on a highway to heaven. Your little hole tightened, so eager to milk him dry.

“Yeah, you’d like that, won’t you?”

“O-oh.. oh yes. Please.. fuck,”

“Please?”

“Please fill me up.”

His tip started oozing out ribbons after ribbons of cum, quickly filling you up relentlessly. Though he hasn’t stopped bottoming himself up into you. His load sloshed around, coated his length a perfect milky shade, and dribbled down your rear deliciously. Did you really just let a complete stranger fill you up to the top? Did you truly just let him pour his seed up your needy hole?

Maybe you did.

And maybe it’s reckless.

But oddly enough, you don’t feel too bad about it.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #tlou fic #tlou #the last of us

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thenightwolf51 · 9 months

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So i originally had this idea when i reblogged this post by @saphushia but i wanna just seperate it out as its own little prompt.

A quick context is that Danny seems to be roaming around Gotham like some homeless cryptid, kinda Bus to Nowhere style but with more vigilante interaction and casual offerings of first aid. And the batkids are keeping their adoption bait First Aid Cryptid(tm) secret from Batman.

One set of tags in the reblogs from @little-pondhead caught my attention

I came up with both funny answers and an angsty answer for that "#why?" but here's the angsty one (though i promice i actually envision it to be more hurt/comfort with a lot of family fluff)

Actual Prompt⬇️⬇️

Something happens, maybe a reveal gone wrong, maybe he got capture by the GIW, maybe he lost Jazz and his parents somehow.

Whatever it is, it leaves Danny with a need to escaped to a new dimension which just so happens to end up being the DCU. He winds up in Gotham and is just trying to start over, easier said than done but at there's plenty of heros around so he doesn't need to go ghost and he can still patch up the local vigilantes to feed his obsession. He's just not up to being Phantom yet and he's still recovering from whatever happened in Amity, whether it be mentally or physically.

Plus these vigilantes are kinda fun to mess with. Danny can practically see the gears turning as they try to put together and make sense of his little "lore drops", that Red Robin almost reminds him of Wes in a way.

Its not like he really needs to hide anyways. There's no GIW here, no Anti-Ecto Acts, if it really comes down to it he could probably pass as meta and fall under those protection laws. Judging by Signal, Danny's pretty sure Batman's bluffing on the whole "hating metas" thing anyways.

It takes awhile before Danny actually does meet the big bat himself and the reaction he gets is nothing anyone was expecting.

You see theres one little detail danny couldn't have been warned about, and its that there just so happens to be a version of Jazz here.

Except this Jazz lost her Danny when they were in high school, as in full on dead and gone Danny, no halfas here, the portal simply did not work and it was just regular ole lethal electrocution that hit her little brother.

What if she grew up with a young Bruce somehow, whether it be because CPS took her from the Fentons after her Danny's death or Amity Park simply doesn't exist in the DCU making Gotham the city with the thinnest veil and thus where the Fenton's chose to settle down.

This Jazz is an adult in her 40s but was once a kid smart enough to go to Gotham Academy on scholarship (or maybe the Fenton's had enough money from patents?). A kid who took one look at young Bruce's grumpy little face and decided he needed a honest friend, one that wasn't after status or money.

This Jazz grew up being a secondary voice of reason for Bruce, ganging up with Alfred in their own crusade to enforce healthy habits on him in between their weekly tea sessions.

This Jazz lost her brother and could not only understand Bruce's resoning on a minor level but encouraged his planned "journey of self discovery and healing". (Though the bat costume he made when he came back was unexpected and she gave him a look to rival Alfred for it)

This Jazz grew up to be a social worker because if anyone had cared enough to take her away from the Fenton's sooner then her brother might've still been alive

This Jazz being the one Bruce calls when he first gets Dick because holy shit he has no idea what hes doing and "Jazz, i just became a father, help!"

This Jazz being a sort of aunt to all the Batkids and is a major influence that has led to their dynamics being similar to Wayne Family Adventures

Bruce goes pale and later calls Jazz after he finally gets a glimps/meets the so called "First Aid Cryptid" his kids have been obsessed with. Because this kid that he's looking at with the barely visible lichtenberg scars... that's a face he hasn't seen in little over 20 years, that's his old friend's long dead baby brother.

Bruce sees danny and his mind rapidly jumps to all sorts of possibilities. Is this a clone? Is this a trap? Are the Lazarus pits involved somehow? Time travel? He does consider a ghost but this kid is too solid and they're nowhere near the old dilapidated Fenton Works building

Eventually, down the line when they get the full story of Danny being from an alternate dimension, Jazz might try to adopt him. Which has potential to be unhealthy but i fully believe Jazz would be aware enough not to project her decades old grief on this Danny, who is so similar but so different to her brother.

(Because I think a Gotham raised Danny would've been similar to a young Jason in street smarts so this Amity raised Danny is noticeably different)

Danny on the other hand... not sure if i could say the same, especially if he just lost his Jazz before winding up in the DCU. But again, this is an adult Jazz in her late 40s with professional experience dealing with traumatized kids, and she'll do her best to help him through it

Im imagining Jazz and Bruce to have a more platonic friendship, maybe even see each other as family, but you could go with Parent Syndrome if you want

(And because i love to see other peoples ideas and opinions, @omnicrafts @ailithnight @atiyasnake @hdgnj @nelkcats @nerdpoe @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @dcxdpdabbles. Sorry i tag you guys so much but i like your writing, im eager to offer ideas, and your posts have been major sources of joy while ive been hyperfixating on DPxDC)

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny fenton #batman #jazz fenton #bruce and jazz know each other #bruce and jazz are childhood friends #at least in another dimension #jason reminded jazz of her danny #she did her best to help with the bat kids #writing prompt #fic prompt #found family #is it found family if one person is your biological sibling from another dimension?

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saerayofsunshine · 6 months

Text

Tease me, baby

Summary: Gojo Satoru could be a complete tease, outside the bedroom and inside the bedroom. Sometimes, you played along with his antics, because why not? The reward would be sweet, or so he promised. But sometimes, it was just too much, leaving you hanging on the bridge of madness, leaving you with nothing but a flame of desire within you, a flame that only he could put out. Relationship: Gojo Satoru/Reader Rating: E Words: 2.6K Content Warning: consensual sex, edging, unprotected sex (don't be silly, protect the willie), breeding, orgasm denial (?), pet names (babygirl, baby, darling), fingering, etc. (let me know if I forgot something). Note: This is my first time writing smut, but I've caught up to the manga and man, I just had to do something with myself. This is pure porn with no plot at all, so ehe. Hopefully I haven't missed any typos or grammar. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated! On the other hand, writing this has been an experience because how the fuck do write people long smut? How do they put words together and make it sexy at the same time? Like damn.

cross-posted on ao3

You had heard of the name Gojo Satoru way before the start of high school. How could you not? Every sorcerer had heard of that name at least once: the wielder of six eyes, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, the honored one... his name brought a sense of dread to his enemies while awakening feelings of admiration within his comrades.

You had heard plenty of him but didn't encounter him until the start of jujutsu high, where you had the unfortunate (or fortunate?) chance of being his precious kohai.

Up to that point, you had heard about how playful, annoying, and teasing Gojo Satoru could be, but it was only after meeting him that you realized how much of a playful, annoying, and teasing bastard he could really be.

It had all started in high school. You hadn't questioned his antics during that time, simply letting him touch you whenever the opportunity called for it. Whether that be a slight brush of your hands as you passed something to him, or him brushing something across your shoulders, afterwards playing with your hair as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Remembering such memories never failed to bring a smile onto your face.

Gojo Satoru had always been a tease, during his youth and his adolescence. Normally, you played along his little games, more than eager to tease him back and make him crack.

What had started with innocent touches during your youth had turned into seducing prods, demanding more, wanting more, seeking more out of your body. You were all too eager to deliver, but sometimes, sometimes, even you couldn’t keep up with his enthusiasm.

You loved the feel of his large hands groping your tits, squeezing, pulling, brushing against your hard nipples, before teasing them with that wicked tongue of his; loved to feel his digits on your clit, gently caressing and petting the little bud nonstop, as if he wasn’t preparing to make you scream afterwards. With a soft growl of his, he would reassure you every time you cried out for him, desperately asking him to just put it in, please, and you loved it even more when he delivered, his long fingers finally sliding home within your pussy, fingering the shit out of you and granting you that sweet release you had been longing from him.

You loved him and his little game of teasing, but sometimes, you hated him for this exact reason.

You hated him for making you crave him so much, for putting you through hell, just to get a taste of his fingers, his mouth, his cock. Anything he was willing to give, you would gladly accept.

It didn’t matter whether it was his fingers, his mouth or his cock, he would patiently wait, he would listen, as if you weren’t trashing within his hold, moaning, practically crying his name with every breath. “Satoru, ah, Satoru… please.”

Satoru was too good at ignoring his own desire, his cock practically leaking, begging to be touched, but he wouldn’t have it. Without you saying the words, at least. He adored the expression on your face whenever you felt desperate, the breathless sighs leaving your parted lips, along your twitching thighs that rose into his hand, sucking and clenching around his fingers, and the filthy sound your cunt made with every push and pull… it was all too addicting.

Even if he tried, Satoru couldn’t, wouldn’t stop, no matter how much you begged for mercy.

“Relax, I got you,” he murmured, leaning over your sweaty body, kissing you on the lips, effectively cutting of the moans. Their tongue danced around each other, moaning against each other’s mouth as Satoru massaged your right tit as his other hand maintained a fast pace within your poor cunt, feeling it twitch with every push and pull, brushing against that spot that had you gush against his digits. Desperate for more, you ache more into his palm, in hopes of him acknowledging your neglected clit.

Though, you knew that he wouldn’t show you any mercy, that bastard. The pleasure was just too much.

Sometimes, he was too much for you.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Kissing your red cheeks and trailing kisses across your neck, Satoru kept the fast pace of his fingers, curling his fingers slightly up, brushing against that spongy spot once again, leaving you a moaning, twitching mess beneath him.

Hands grasping his hair, you held on tightly as he left soft pecks across your neck and shoulder blades.

“Ssh, it’s okay babygirl.” He chuckled at the whine that escaped you when he pulled his fingers out, switching his attention to the swollen bud, gently petting your clit before slapping it, before gently petting it once again. He stuffed you full of his fingers once again, continuing his fast pace within you. “Just take it like this. I know you can.”

Cocky little bastard. How can he be this collected when you felt his cock twitch against your thigh whenever you grinded on him? It was hard, tip swollen an angry red and leaking precum from all the grinding, but here he was, acting as if this wasn’t affecting him in the slightest, as if he wasn’t yearning to be inside you.

A long sigh left your lips as you clenched on his fingers that were assaulting your drenched pussy, blushing at the wet sounds it created. It would have been embarrassing any other day, the way you were soaking his palm, but today, you couldn’t care any less.

“Fuck… please, please give it to me.”

He growled underneath his breath, a crazed look on his face, smirking as he witnessed you desperately trashing within his hold. “Just tell me what you want, and I will give it to you,” he promised, placing loving kisses against your reddened cheeks. “You just have to say what you want, darling. Use your words. You can do that much, right? I haven’t fucked you dumb, right?” He asked, slowly pulling his fingers out to gently massage your clit, slapping it occasionally, chuckling as moans left your mouth. “What do you want me to do? Tell me what you want, I’m not a mind reader, baby.”

“Satoru…” you drawled out, meeting each other’s gaze. Satoru didn’t look away from you, daring you to back out, to not voice out your wants. You bit your lip, the uncomfortable ache within you making it unable to stand still. “Please, make me come. I want to come so badly. Please.”

That was all he needed to hear. If there was something that Satoru loved, it was you desperately begging him to make you come. He was sure, this feeling would never leave him; there would never be a day where Satoru didn’t want to hear you cry out of pleasure, begging for him.

You were his needy little girl, all spread open, wet, twitching and ready just for him.

Satoru loved to see you desperate, desperate for a kiss, desperate for his fingers, desperate for his cock.

He loved teasing you, making you beg, wrecking you, before starting the process all over again.

"There you go. Was that so hard to admit?" His cockiness and the smug smile on his face would have annoyed you any other day, but today, you let it slide, focusing on the way he played with your clit, prepping you up for what was about to come. "You know I will give it to you. All you have do is be a good girl and ask."

Placing a hand on your stomach, Satoru began his unforgiving assault with his other hand, and fuck, if it wasn’t what you needed. His fingers expertly bully your cunt, pulling and pushing, brushing over your sensitive spots within you, and you trashed, and trashed, and trashed. His hand on your stomach held you down, and you could do nothing but shake like a leaf underneath his demonstrations.

He leaned over you body when you grasped his shoulder, scratching his back as you bucked against his hand, and fuck, was it fucking hot. Quiet murmurs of his name and repeated, dragged ‘yes’ were the only thing that left your lips, encouraging Satoru to give you more, more and more.

“C’mon baby, you’re close, aren’t you?” Tugging at your aching bud, he massaged it quickly, up and down, left and right, before repeating the process, bright eyes never leaving your teary gaze. “Come on my fingers, baby. Give it to me.”

“Fuck-Satoru… I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!”

You felt as if you were spiraling, finally having found the exit of a labyrinth. You could practically feel the edge, just a little more, and you were sure you would tip over.

That would be the case, if it wasn’t for Satoru pulling out of your pussy after hearing those words, grasping your thighs as you struggled against hold, having been left an empty, unsatisfied, and twitching mess.

"You piece of fucking shi-"

His lips met yours, interrupting the string of profanities, smiling against your mouth and grinding his hips against yours, cock laying heavy against your pussy, its wetness spreading across his length. “I’m sorry, baby. Need you to come on my cock instead, missed you so damn much,” he growled, adjusting himself between your spread legs, his knees placed against your tights, gazing at the sinful treasure presented in front of him.

Messy hair, swollen and puffy lips due to all the kissing, sweat covering every inch of your body, it was a view to behold, and it was all his to defile.

Adjusting himself so that the tip of his length grazed your sensitive clit, he teased you by tracing his tip over your bud and netherlips, brushing back and forth, occasionally tapping the swollen button, ignoring and shushing the little whines that escaped you. “Hold on tight, baby. You not going anywhere without coming on my cock.”

You had plenty of sex with Satoru, he was practically insatiable. Though, no matter how many times you had intercourse, it never lost its magic, each time different than the other, but always leaving you satisfied, sated, and with a delicious ache between your legs.

Even now, prepped and dripping, he was big enough to make you breath hitch as he pressed into you inch by inch, gauging your reaction, observing whether it was okay to continue. You both groaned as his cock slid home, feeling him twitch inside you, deliciously dragging his length within your cunt.

You bit your lip. He filled you up too good, and you could do nothing but tighten around him.

Satoru’s thumb brushed against your lower lip, releasing it from your bite before lovingly caressing your face. You would have thought the gesture as romantic and sweet, if it weren’t for the fact that he was balls deep and rock hard within you. Stroking your chest, playing with your nipples, he playfully swirled his hips against yours, smirking as you rotated your own hips as well, before settling his hands on your waits, experimentally thrusting his cock into you.

"Don't try to stifle your moans. I want to hear you scream my name."

Satoru knew how to work his fingers against you, inside you; whether to be slow, teasing you with the barest of touches or firm, so that his digits could prod just the right places that had you groaning, and he definitely knew how to work his hips against your own, fervently pounding himself inside without abandon, clutching onto your waist, as if it was the only thing grounding him down to earth, and you could do nothing but cry out and take it, take it, take it.

Satoru was a beautiful man, always has been, but at that moment, above and inside you, he looked ethereal. With his white hair tousled, covering his beautiful eyes, gazing down at you, admiring the way your pussy clenched onto him as he repeatedly pounded in you, you were reminded of a starved beast, a predator ready to devour his little prey that laid baren in front of him.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

"You like that, baby?" He punctuated his words with a swirl of his hips that had you moaning loudly, his cock dragging across your walls beautifully, scratching that itch within you. "You look so fucking hot," he growled, before thrusting hard, admiring the way your breast bounce with every thrust. "You gonna make me come so hard, you would like that, wouldn't you? Want me to come inside you, fill up your empty pussy, baby?"

You bite your lip, gripping his wrist desperately, clenching and unclenching uncontrollably as his assault continued, anchoring yourself against his hand. Just the image of him coming inside you had you frenzied, so much so that you could only moan out loudly, holding onto him:

"Yes, fuck, please, yes. I want it so bad. Please, come inside of me, Satoru!"

Groaning at those words, he pounded away into you, and with every drag, you tightened around him, feeling him twitch, feeling as if you were ready to burst, but desperately trying to hold back your fast approaching orgasm. He was so close, you could feel it, and you wanted to feel him become undone within you, with you, filling your pussy up as you finally let go. Clutching his haunches, you rhythmically met his thrust, wordlessly encouraging him to fuck you faster, harder.

Gradually, his controlled thrusts turned sloppy, a telltale sign of his approaching orgasm. You grasped his shoulder, making him bent down so that you could mutter against his lips ‘Come with me, Satoru,’ before kissing him, tongues dancing and hips bucking wildly against each other as you hold onto him tightly.

Satoru knew how to wind you up, whether that be with his teasing antics or without, but the outcome always had you reeling, spasming mess against him, desperate to catch your breath as you finally let go of the tight coil within you. Satoru, on the other hand, wouldn’t let up, fucking you through your orgasm as he too finally tipped over the edge, groaning uncontrollably and grinding against your clit, fucking his load into you. The feeling of it had you smiling against his mouth, content and sated for the time being, and you absentmindedly massaged his neck, tugging at his hair as Satoru finished within you, thrusting slowly against you for the last time before stilling within you.

Without a hurry in the world, he kissed you, gently and sweetly, trailing pecks all over your cheeks and jaw, before ultimately placing a short peck on your lips once last time.

And with that, he straightened his posture, slowly pulling out of you with a breathless sigh, smirking in perverse satisfaction as cum drippled down your slit. The view had him throbbing uncomfortably. Therefore, he nudged your sensitive clit with his cock, toying with it, all the while ignoring the high-pitched whines of protest, leisurely smearing your wetness across your inner thighs, before carefully sliding his tip into you once again, groaning as he did so.

You haven't known how much of a tease Gojo Satoru could be, but with time, you had learned that his playful nature was, in fact, very much present during bedroom activities. You could say that you hated him for it, but the promise of sweet release after an endless amount of teasing always had you aroused, and Satoru was someone who kept his promise.

And till now, he always made good of his promises, so that at the end of the day, you let him have his victory price.

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