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10hong · 11 days
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i think i need to reinvent myself !
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10hong · 11 days
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wooyoung has the charm of a neopet to me i want to open my browser and do the five daily tasks of taking care of him, get rewards, put a little bow on him and then log out for the night. you get it?
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10hong · 19 days
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no youre right and you should say it louder and i will be your number one defender because youre right. never let any atiny tell you your characterizations are incorrect im so serious.... you write him so goofy loser in that ultra genuine way that presses up right next to your heart... the sincerity and devotion, so raw and unyielding that it forces you to look at his childishness in the face.... to love him for it or not at all.. the warmau ification of jung woo young. i said it once and ill say it again but i think about your unrequired love drabbles with him and how hes always just about flayed open all the time @_@ not to be too deranged but id eat glass to read it again for the first time
- insane woo anon
thank you so much because i for real feel like i can safely express my feelings about wooyoung knowing i have that one supporter. but yes, i ....... he is.......... so like........ wooyoung in his constant crave to be beside you, to feel the heat of your skin, to hear the tones of your voice, to smell the scent that is so uniquely you - so tangible to him that he can taste it too, whatever it is, the association of sweetness you evoke, to look at you - really look at you - past the color of your eyes or your hair or the curve of your waist or the back of your knees - oh wooyoung who just needs you. needs you in a way that doesn't make sense to anyone else, you don't need another person to keep you alive, but wooyoung needs you. grappling with the overwhelming joy he gets from being close and the simultaneous torture of never really getting much more than that. he needs you and he cannot touch you. he dies and comes to life in a repeating cycle that would drive anyone else crazy but he goes through it willingly, begging for it, just because well...........it's you and wooyoung needs you. he lets his hunger devour him from the inside out, lets you pick at whatever is left with the sharp end of your fork you know.............anyway he's very cute
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10hong · 20 days
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YH ⚓ [240526] Twitter Update "Let our friendship last forever ❤️"
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10hong · 20 days
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10hong · 1 month
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wish i had the sheer insanity that possessed me when fe3h or genshin dropped ngl
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10hong · 1 month
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new yh layout !
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10hong · 2 months
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[240428] FROM A TO Z
TEAM 'A' PLAYER 81 HONGJOONG
TEAM 'A' PLAYER 11 YUNHO
TEAM 'A' PLAYER 01 SAN
TEAM 'A' PLAYER 52 WOOYOUNG ⠀
2024. 05. 03 ⠀
WHO IS NEXT MEMBER?
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10hong · 2 months
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YH ⚓ [240420] Instagram Update #Yunhois3gram "See you💋 coachella🌙"
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10hong · 2 months
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i neeed to get something out before june 12th or i would have made it one whole year of posting absolutely nothing
writing suspese and titilation but the tension is between me and whether or not i'll finish this draft before the idea is gone
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10hong · 2 months
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oh i know this hwa was written with a pink glitter pen.
he just radiates bullet-journal jelly-marker energy; he's very meticulous and ordered, but also not immune to adding his own quirks and sense of flare when the opportunity arises. it's just soo endearing, and there's a bunch of little character-orientated details that i really appreciate!
for starters, his dedication to his craft of baking, drink making, and mc wooing. and also his commitment to routine and regularity. i love the way he's written to pursue all these things with sincerity. plus they all play into one another!!! it feels very natural for him to turn all of his more 'mundane' or non-romance orientated traits towards her.
Seonghwa has been always better at being confident if he’s doing it for someone else,
and this is such an interesting little detail right at the end that i never really noticed!! it makes so much sense though and actively increased my understanding of his characterization.
and then all of that is rounded out by him being just a little loser-core!!! like the "fight" with wooyoung or him not noticing mc was flirting with him or like thinking about finding your instagram,, oh he's so hopeless,, oh he doesn't know he's hot,,
He’s tasting your lipgloss right now, and as much as he wants to taste it off your lips, it’s dizzying enough to have the hint of it mixed with something he created.
double entendre :) and if i pop your honor, then what. the brief image that flashed across my mind of skilled baker seonghwa trying to recreate the artificial flavour of your first kiss in baked form only for him to get possessive of his own creation. Lol. haha. what if. :)
Seonghwa feels like he could kiss you forever, decides silently that air is no longer a necessity and that his employees are competent enough to run the shop without him, entertains thoughts of dragging you back to the kitchen or, better, his office, just so he can have his way with you. 
and there it is everyone !!! the want, the wanton, the delusion - i love it when characters want so ardently and so much that it betrays all reason. like he climbed on the counter for her and you expect me to not be enamored with him?? seriously em always writes "people who want" so well.
another perfect one-shot!! absolutely ate
Sugar Rush
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Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~3k | Reader: F
Warnings: food, swearing, horny thoughts, suggestive, pining
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Seonghwa rearranges the cupcake display for a third time, trying to ignore the shaking of his fingers and the irregular thumping of his heart. You’re due to come in soon and he’s going to have to pretend to be totally normal like he always does, and it’s getting harder and harder every day. His employees keep telling him to just ask you out, but it’s not that simple.
Yes, he has feelings for you. Yes, he wants to date you. Yes, he sees you in his kitchen and in his dreams and in his future. However, if he does take that leap and you say no, he loses not only his crush and favorite customer, but his muse, because for months, he’s been basing his flavor of the day on you. 
What you were wearing the day before, something you mentioned liking or doing, even just your mood sometimes. You come every day so he’s never left wanting for flavor ideas or things to dream about late at night. 
Today’s cupcakes are raspberry lemonade - you’d bounced into his shop in a sweet pink dress and mentioned missing the lemons in Sorrento yesterday, and that was that. They’re delicious, if he does say so himself, light and refreshing but sweet and a bit tart, with a candied lemon wedge dusted in pink decorating sugar on top. He can’t wait to update his bakery Instagram but he never posts until after you come in, not wanting to spoil the surprise just in case you follow the account.
Seonghwa knows he could go through the followers list and look for you, but if he finds your account it’s not like he can just follow you from his personal out of the blue, you’d probably think he was creepy. He likes letting his feelings grow and develop organically anyway, loves the excitement of waiting for you to come in, of you letting him choose your drink order, of the careful way you bite into his cupcakes and swipe at the frosting that inevitably gets on your lips. 
He always has to resist the urge to lean across the counter and clean up the frosting with his own finger, suck it into his mouth just to get a little taste of your lip gloss, or even worse, lean close enough to kiss it off of your lips. 
Shaking his head, Seonghwa reminds himself these aren’t appropriate thoughts to have about a customer and heads to the back to finish frosting the rest of the cupcakes. 
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Seonghwa hears the bell chime again and jumps, his singleminded concentration broken. He looks down to find most of the cupcakes finished, wondering when that happened before deciding he doesn’t need to know and carefully topping them with the candied wedges. You’re still not here, and he’s starting to get nervous that you won’t come in today. You come in every day, your own flower shop just down the street, and if you don’t show, something must be wrong. He’s never been to your store before but he’ll have to investigate if you don’t-
“You’re here! Thank God, Seonghwa was getting so-,” Wooyoung shouts excitedly.
He blindly tosses the jar of lemons onto the counter and sprints to the front, wiping his sugary fingers off on his apron and trying to control his smile at the sight of you. 
He’s blinking too much and standing weirdly and twisting his fingers up in his apron, and Wooyoung must notice because he claps a hand on his shoulder and hisses, “Relax!” before speeding away to finish dressing the cupcakes. 
Seonghwa forces out a hello, walking mechanically to the register and pretending he’s not frantically soaking up your every expression as you meet him. You’re wearing a yellow dress today, your own apron a bit dirty with potting soil, and instantly his brain screams yellow cake with chocolate buttercream. 
That’s tomorrow’s cupcakes sorted then, he supposes. 
You beam at him, your cheeks crinkling your eyes and your lip gloss shining in the soft light of day. Seonghwa feels like he could collapse, your smile bowling him right over, but he steadies himself on the counter and tries to grin back. It must look normal enough because you ask him how he is, and he can tell you genuinely want to know the answer so he doesn’t lie, powers through the pterodactyls in his stomach and tells you he’s great now that you’re here. He’s never this forward, but the earlier fear that he wouldn’t get to see you today seems to have emboldened him, and the shy way you look down then back to him makes the brief caustic fear in his throat worth it. 
You tell him your store had been busy, filled by a woman who brought in her entire bridal party so  they could help pick out her wedding bouquet and managed to spend legitimate hours doing so. 
The bouquet looked like a disaster, you inform him glumly, but the bride seemed happy with it and that’s all that matters. You chat as you make your way to the cupcake display, your eyes lighting up at the raspberry lemonade sign and growing dreamy when you spot the candied lemon topping the soft pink frosting. 
You usually get one to eat at his store and one for after work, and you bite into the first while he’s making your drink. He’s chosen an iced raspberry matcha latte for your drink today, the light flavor of the cupcake demanding a refreshing drink to match. The matcha will give you some energy to deal with the rest of your customers and the raspberry will tie all of the flavors together. 
Green also just looks really pretty with your skin, but Seonghwa is good enough at lying to himself to pretend that wasn’t a deciding factor. 
He sets your drink on the counter just as you’re wiping at the frosting on your lip with your thumb, and thank goodness he did because it would have fallen straight out of his hand when he caught sight of you sucking at the pad of your thumb and looking right into his eyes. You’ve never done that before, always grabbing a napkin to clean your fingers, and it’s like he’s frozen. 
His apron is his only saving grace, giving his hands something to wring and hiding the stirring of his dick at the sight of your plush lips pressed against your thumb. 
You send him a secret smile and, when his hands remain twisted up in the fabric, set a ten dollar bill down on the counter with a wink before spinning on your heel and breezing out of the store, your dress fluttering slightly and giving him a peek of your soft upper thighs. 
Seonghwa jumps when Wooyoung appears behind him, a low whistle leaving his pursed lips and his hand coming up to rest on Seonghwa’s shoulder. 
“She normally flirt with you like that?”
“SHE WAS FLIRTING WITH ME?”
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Seongwha is still reeling at the idea of you being into him, even a week later. He’s been doing his best to act normal with you, making your drinks and handing them over with a soft smile, sliding a few dollar bills back over the counter when you overpay him, pretending he’s not staring wistfully as you shoot him a smile over your shoulder and glide back to your shop. 
He absentmindedly shuffles the cupcakes around, counts the cookies, and reminds himself to place an order for more decorative sprinkles as the holidays approach. 
Yesterday, you’d been really excited about the leaves starting to change color so today’s cupcakes are cookie butter batter with maple frosting and a sugar glass maple leaf. This one is pretty obviously inspired by you and Seonghwa hopes you don’t notice (and that Wooyoung doesn’t tell you, considering he’d been there when you made the comment). 
He thinks for your drink today, he’ll make a cinnamon brown sugar latte and maybe daydream about writing his number on the side of the cup.
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Seonghwa did not, in fact, write his number on the side of the cup. Instead, he tried to contain his ridiculous grin at the happy dance you’d done when you saw the cupcakes and the even happier shimmy you did when you tasted them. You were so adorable, light and happiness shining from every pore, and Seonghwa felt that light seep into him, leaving him floating the rest of the day. 
It was a short visit - you’re down an employee today so you had to close the shop to come down to his store, and he tries to tell himself that doesn’t mean anything. 
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Seonghwa really doesn’t think it means anything that you close your store sometimes to come to his bakery. Wooyoung disagrees, as does his new employee San, and now they’re both tormenting him with the possibility that you may feel the same way he does. He hasn’t been allowing himself to hope, unwilling to build it all up in his head only for everything to come crashing down, but he thinks they’re starting to get to him. 
He’s looking forward to your visits now more than ever, growing increasingly elaborate with the cupcake flavors and drinks he makes for you, anxiously staring at the front door and waiting for the bell to chime. 
You used to come on a set schedule and he could anticipate your arrival, but lately your visits are more unpredictable. Sometimes you appear in the mornings, right when he opens, and other times you don’t come until he’s about to close, two lone cupcakes sitting outside of the display, set aside to wait for you. 
Today seems to be the latter, his employees dismissed for the day and the last few customers trickling out of the store as the sun sets. He’s starting to fear you’ll break your streak of coming every day, wondering if maybe he should mix up a drink and walk it down to your store, when you sheepishly peek your head inside. 
“Am I too late?” you ask nervously, your brows twisted together, your lip bitten between your teeth, your apron still dirty with soil. 
Seonghwa ignores the voice screaming its desire to either be your lip or your teeth and shakes his head quickly, responding, “No, you’re not too late, I’ve got two left right here.” 
You sigh in relief as you finish entering the bakery, bouncing on the balls of your feet and approaching the counter. He’s not sure what drink to make you yet and scolds himself, annoyed that he’d had all day to think about it and still hadn’t come up with anything. 
The special cupcake flavor today is a pumpkin coffee cake base with cinnamon cream cheese buttercream, and he wants to do something with a bit of spice but not too much cinnamon, so the drink he’d given you last week won’t work. 
Oh! A chai tea latte will be perfect!
Seongwha sets your cupcakes down in front of you and spins on his toes to start making your drink, expertly steaming the milk and thoughtlessly pouring a foam heart. He could add more, drag a coffee straw through the middle to make it a leaf, but he supposes a bit of boldness couldn’t hurt. 
You’re beaming as he hands you the drink, and he tries not to kick himself when he realizes he’d made it in a mug instead of a travel cup. He hadn’t meant to force you to stay and the last thing he wants to do is keep you when you really want to go home, but you just sigh and take a sip, your eyes crinkling at the sides when you take notice of the heart. He tries to ignore the shiver that twists your spine, tries to pretend he’s not thinking about swiping everything off the counter and dragging you across to plant his lips on yours, but it’s difficult when you’re sipping a drink he made for you and humming. like that. 
It only gets worse when you take a delicate bite of the cupcake and let your eyes flutter shut, a small moan rising from deep in your chest. There’s a bit of frosting left on the corner of your mouth and Seonghwa can’t resist leaning over and swiping at it with his thumb, instinctively bringing it to his mouth so he can lick the sugary mixture off. It has a new note to it, something sweet and artificial, and he realizes it must be your lipgloss. He’s tasting your lipgloss right now, and as much as he wants to taste it off your lips, it’s dizzying enough to have the hint of it mixed with something he created. 
This must be what kissing you would taste like and Seonghwa feels his heart start to race at the thought. He’s never been so close to losing it before, to tossing aside his restraint and launching himself at you so he can suck your tongue into his mouth, and it’s taking everything in him now to stay still. 
You’re staring at him, your eyes wide and focused on his hand as you slowly lower the cupcake onto the counter. You haven’t ever looked at him like this before and Seonghwa fights back the shiver, feeling his cock start to throb at the way you’ve got all your focus on him. He really doesn’t know how much longer he can do this. 
Seonghwa wants you more than anything, and the benefits are starting to outweigh the risks. Sure, he could just cash you out and say goodbye, pretend you aren’t the main reason he opens his shop everyday, but he could also take the leap, could lean over and kiss you, bite at your bottom lip like he’s always wanted to, pull you closer and closer until the only thing separating you is skin. 
The decision is made for him when you swipe your pointer finger through the carefully piped frosting and suck it into your mouth, letting a bit of the icing smear over your top lip. Seonghwa literally cannot do anything but hook a couple fingers in your apron and tug you close enough to taste the air you breathe before tilting close enough to you to lower his head and suck at your upper lip. You shift toward him eagerly, a sigh escaping and brushing against his mouth, and he just knows there’s no way he can stay away from you now. 
Your lips part as they press against his, the sweet taste of you merging with the frosting to create a flavor Seonghwa’s never known before. He can’t get enough, his fingers drifting up your body to cradle your face, pulling you closer so he can glide his tongue over your bottom lip. You open easily for him, your breath hitching as he presses into your mouth and lavs over your hard palate, his tongue tangling with yours. 
Seonghwa feels like he could kiss you forever, decides silently that air is no longer a necessity and that his employees are competent enough to run the shop without him, entertains thoughts of dragging you back to the kitchen or, better, his office, just so he can have his way with you. 
You seem like you wouldn’t be opposed, judging by the soft sounds escaping your lips, sounds he eagerly swallows as he practically climbs on top of the counter to get closer. Seriously, he’s got one knee on the marble and a hand on your neck when a phone goes off, the ringtone sounding three times. 
It’s Seonghwa’s, and he pulls away enough to fish his phone out of his apron, half lidded eyes turning hard when he sees the messages. 
get it boss
not on the counter tho
I eat there
Seonghwa nearly trembles with the irritation that suddenly floods his body, his thumbs shaking as he angrily types his response. 
WOOYOUNG I WILL FIRE YOU
NO U WONT U LOVE ME TOO MUCH
STOP WATCHING THE SECURITY CAMERAS HOW DID YOU EVEN GET THE PASSWORD
U HAVE IT WRITTEN DOWN IN THE OFFICE THIS IS UR OWN FAULT
Seonghwa resists the urge to throw his phone across the room, glaring up at the camera in the corner and hoping Wooyoung can feel his ire through the feed. He fears the mood has been broken, whatever magic that drove you to kiss him back depleted, and it takes everything in him to meet your eyes again. 
You’re… smiling, though. Smiling… at him?
“You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?” You say sweetly, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you raise your hand to trace his bottom lip with your thumb.
Seonghwa’s breath halts in his chest. He’s never been the best at accepting compliments, especially not from people he’s been crushing on for months, and your words set his heart racing. He doesn’t really know what to say so he just presses a kiss to your thumb and does his best to smile in a way that doesn’t make him look like he’s in pain. 
“Would you maybe want to… uhm…,” Seonghwa can feel the back of his neck flushing, his ears catching fire as he tries to ask if you want to keep going. 
“I live right above my shop, we could…,” you trail off, seemingly as nervous as he is, and that’s what sets him at ease. Seonghwa has been always better at being confident if he’s doing it for someone else, and neither his voice nor his fingers tremble when he tangles them with yours and replies, “Lead the way.”
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AN: okieeeee so im not fully back yet but this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i found the will to finish the first part! yay! part two should be coming soonish and it’ll be just smut like First Things First!
part two has been discarded so sorry!
also a fun lil secret is that im working on something for mingi 😏
pls share your thoughts!! i love to hear them and chat with y’all!
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10hong · 2 months
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i've only read the first part so far, but i really love this!! and i think one of the reasons why i like it so much is because we're getting it from yunho's point of view.
em always captures when a character wants really well - and when i say 'want' i'm specifically referring to the bubbling, driving force that propels the narratives of strong willed people who have a definitive idea of what they're trying to get. most often times, that's a character so horrifically down bad in love with the mc. and so i was really intrigued when we open with yunho not 100% knowing what it is that he wanted!
but everyone else seemingly does - and that gives this such an interesting little dichotomy that is just sooo delicious. i was nawt disappointed. it's cheesy, it's dorky, it's the everyone knows but you trope. except because we're following the male lead, the audience is now also privy to the big joke that is: yunho freaking out because his friend is pretty and he loves her actually.
It’s very out of character for him to be annoyed by one of his friends and the last thing he wants to do is take it out on you, so he’s been avoiding you.
like i read this line, literally the second line of the main body, and i was like. oh yeah, it's the remix baby 😎
and to that end, i appreciate how much of a presence the rest of the cast has in this fic. every scene has at least one other character present at any given time, mc aside. this makes the world feel lived in - which is both a win for character setting, but also really enhances the prickly tension between yunho, mc, and well - himself. espeically when he's avoiding mc for a chunk of it.
He couldn’t stop the way his eyes narrowed and his heartbeat picked up, no matter how well he knew Mingi would never- Wait. Mingi would never… what? Yunho didn’t have a chance to follow that train of thought as Seonghwa suddenly stood up and clapped his hands, announcing it was time for bed.
when i read this line i thought 'oh, i know seonghwa knows. there's no way he doesn't' - and i think this scene accomplishes two things. it demonstrates how unreliable yunho can be as a narrator, so caught up as he is in his candy-coated angst, and also gives the reader - not the mc mind you, but the audience - a bit of a wink and nudge at being on the in-group of knowing the answer to said angst.
He could feel the blood draining from his face as he finally figured out why exactly you’ve been driving him up the wall lately.
genuinely, it's that wink-and-nudge bit that really sold this part 1 for me. it really appeals to this meta side of fiction that i don't think a lot of fics really capitalize on - you have the beginning (that he's in love with mc) and the ending (that they will be together) - but it's watching him be such a soggy tortured soul about it and not knowing what happens in this nebulous in-between that makes this whole thing so ridiculously fun. and yunho's still so considerate of his friends first and foremost, angsting aside. he's just such a well rounded little guy in this - like even if this drug on forever, i don't think i'd ever get sick of it.
Out Of The Woods | Part 1 of 3
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Summary: You’ve been driving Yunho nuts lately and he just can’t figure out why. He hates being annoyed with his friends, so he’s been avoiding you. It’s difficult to stay away when you’re locked together in a cabin with seven of your closest friends, though.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2k
Tags: rom com, friends to lovers, sharing a bed, fluff, comedy (i think im funny)
Warnings: sexual thoughts, yunho gets a splinter, alcohol, lmk if i forgot anything
Reader Notes: smaller than yunho (in the hands at least), has breasts and a vagina
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“Yunho, you don’t have to sleep so far away. It’s not like we’ve never touched before,” you huff, reaching out across the bed and curling your fingers in his shirt to tug him closer.
He follows your pull, shuffling over just a few inches and pretending to be too distracted taking in the room to look at you. It was a lot easier to avoid your gaze when there were seven other people in the room. Now that it’s just the two of you, Yunho is running out of options.
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Lately, you've been driving Yunho crazy.
It’s very out of character for him to be annoyed by one of his friends and the last thing he wants to do is take it out on you, so he’s been avoiding you. And Mingi, of course, noticed and told everyone else, leading to them all competing to see who can put him in the most uncomfortable situations with you.
This came at the very unfortunate time of the annual Best Friends Trip, this time at a literal cabin in the woods. Because what could go wrong there?
On the way up to the cabin, Mingi conveniently 'forgot' he had some extra errands to run before departing and decided to ride with San and Wooyoung instead, leaving you and Yunho to drive up alone. It was three straight hours of uncomfortable silence and him trying to figure out why the scent of your shampoo made him dizzy.
When the time came to gather firewood, Jongho (who'd lost rock paper scissors) insisted he’d rolled his ankle and couldn’t traverse the uneven ground, but oh Y/n, didn’t you say you wanted to take a walk before settling in?
Yunho said he could take care of it alone but the guys wouldn’t hear it, claimed you never know what’s lurking in the forest and that the buddy system is key, so he’d trudged into the woods with you by his side and pretended he didn’t see the sparkle of traitorous glee in Jongho’s eyes. What followed was another hour of tension, of you trying to chat and Yunho responding politely but not helpfully, his annoyance only growing when the exasperated sigh you let out sent heat flashing down his throat.
You took some space from him when you got back, throwing him a confused glare before going to help Seonghwa prepare hot chocolate. He’d tried to be nicer after that, act more like himself, but he could tell you still felt the distance he kept. It didn’t help that his shoulders wound tighter and tighter with each burst of laughter that escaped the kitchen, evil thoughts of hiding the final piece of all of Seonghwa’s new lego sets flooding his mind.
Yunho knew he could never do such a thing but the thought made his stomach churn with guilt, so he busied himself with chopping firewood until the sun faded behind the trees, ignoring calls of hot chocolate and invitations to games and shouts about room dividing.
You’d all been gathered up around the fireplace when he decided he’d punished himself enough and went back inside. Yeosang’s half-lidded eyes and red cheeks told him the liquor had come into play but he still nodded as if he couldn’t tell and smiled when Joong shouted that they’d moved onto spiked hot chocolate, demanding he grab a mug.
Yunho’s far from a lightweight but the extra exercise and the stress of the day let the peppermint schnapps hit him a bit harder. After one cup, he could feel the back of his neck grow warm and his sharp edges start to blur out. After two, he felt relaxed enough to look at you again and turned his head in search of you, only to find you snuggled up to a smirking Mingi. He couldn’t stop the way his eyes narrowed and his heartbeat picked up, no matter how well he knew Mingi would never-
Wait. Mingi would never… what?
Yunho didn’t have a chance to follow that train of thought as Seonghwa suddenly stood up and clapped his hands, announcing it was time for bed. He recruited Mingi and San to help him get a dozing Hongjoong up the stairs, all three boys cautiously guiding him up every step. Yeosang took up the rear and Wooyoung trailed behind, pouty and petulant because Seonghwa hadn’t asked him to help too. Yunho watched you follow them with fondness in his eyes, the irritation he’d grown used to feeling around you suspiciously absent, and decided he might as well go to bed too if everyone else is.
He’d arrived at the top of the stairs just as the bedroom doors were being pulled shut. Yeosang and Seonghwa disappeared behind one door with matching evil grins and a sleeping Hongjoong between them, and he heard Wooyoung and San bickering about who had to sleep closer to the door in another room, so he turned to the remaining bedroom with a sigh, resigning himself to a night of Mingi’s snoring and no sleep.
Except it wasn’t Mingi’s bag on the bed. It wasn’t Mingi’s phone plugged into the wall, or Mingi’s voice resonating in the shower, or Mingi’s pajamas laid out on the chair. No, they were all yours, and Yunho felt the headache start to pound behind his eyes as his former best friend clapped him on the shoulder and said, “I’m taking the couch tonight, we all agreed earlier.”
“I didn’t agree,” Yunho whispered frantically, clutching the neck of Mingi’s sleep shirt with desperate fingers.
“We tried to ask what you wanted but you just grunted and kept chopping wood, so…” Mingi trailed off with a shrug of his shoulders, calling out a teasing ‘goodnight, sleep tight’ as he trudged down the stairs.
The bathroom door opened before he could protest any further, the steam billowing out around your toweled form clogging his throat up. He barely managed a nod when you assured him you’d left plenty of hot water, and, in somewhat of a daze, stumbled across the wooden floors to take a shower of his own.
Yunho thought the water would clear his head but it just made everything feel hazier, his thoughts tangling with images of your dewy skin and replays of the drop of water that fell from your hair and rolled over your collarbone before dipping down between your breasts.
That wasn't the first time he’d thought about you like this, but it was the first time he’d ever realized how annoyed it made him. He could feel the blood draining from his face as he finally figured out why exactly you’ve been driving him up the wall lately.
It honestly made him feel bad that he’d been so off with you just because you make his heart race, especially considering it’s not something you can change or something you’re doing on purpose. Sure, he didn't know that's why he's been so irked by you, but that doesn't mean he should have blindly taken it out on you in the first place.
And now here Yunho is, barely a foot away from you in a bed that was not meant for two, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes stubbornly avoiding yours. Everything is worse now that he knows he's into you, his frustration blurring into longing and his irritation melting into desire. You're so close and so warm and all Yunho wants to do is pull you even closer, and that's why as soon as you fall asleep, he shuffles away.
He can't afford to touch you any more than necessary if he wants to keep his feelings in check and the friend group together.
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All of Yunho's efforts fly out the window when he wakes up with you burrowed in his arms and his hard cock pressing into your ass.The temperature must have dropped overnight, the tiny shivers of your body making him pull you close while also trying desperately to angle his hips away from you. The slight loss of body heat stirs you and Yunho holds his breath, praying you don't wake up before his hard on has gone down.
Thinking about all the ways he can get Mingi back for putting him in this position helps. He doesn't have anything too devious in mind, just changing his Crunchyroll password so Mingi can't use it anymore and also perhaps spoiling the end of the new drama he'd been watching. Nothing too evil.
Yunho doesn't even feel himself falling back asleep until it's too late, his eyes slipping closed and his arms tugging you closer, the progress he'd made earlier disappearing. He buries his face in your neck and lets his body sink into yours with a sigh, deciding that whatever happens when he wakes again is a problem for future Yunho.
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It turns out future Yunho doesn't have a problem, because you're gone when he blinks awake. The bed is cold without you, his arms empty, and he can't help the frown that pulls down his eyebrows when he sees your pajamas folded up neatly atop your overnight bag.
You must have gotten up a while ago, and as Yunho slowly comes back online, sounds start to drift up the stairs from what can only be the kitchen. The clacking of pots and pans is loud even with the door closed, as is the sound of a heated debate between Wooyoung and San about whether pancakes or waffles make a better vessel for syrup.
The answer is obviously waffles but Yunho's not about to say he's on Wooyoung's side, especially not when he knows San will get pouty and Woo will get clingy. He's got enough to deal with just trying to navigate what he now knows are feelings for you.
Yunho rolls out of bed and immediately reaches his arms above his head in a stretch, groaning as his spine elongates and starts to ache from the hard mattress. He's hoping he can get Hongjoong to step on his back later; it's like a little massage and Joong always gets so much joy from it, so it's a win-win situation.
After throwing on the first items of clothing his hands touch in his bag, Yunho heads to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and brush his teeth. He lumbers down the stairs, his hand gliding on the wood railing before it catches on a divot, a sharp pain stinging his palm and a yelp leaving his lips as a splinter embeds itself in his flesh.
Your head pops up over the couch, a look of concern gracing your features as you stand and rush over, snatching his hand and bringing it close to your face before Yunho can even catch his breath.
You pout as you inspect his palm, tilting it from side to side and squinting in the low light of the living room before you shake your head and pull him over to the window. There's a bit more light here but not much, just enough to highlight the worried furrow between your eyebrows and the lip bitten between your teeth.
Yunho desperately wants to lean down and suck your lip into his mouth but knows he can't just kiss you out of the blue, especially after how he's been acting with you lately, so he just stays still and watches you fuss over him.
"Come on, I have tweezers upstairs," you sigh as you lace your fingers with his and turn to tug him back up to your shared room.
Yunho can feel the back of his neck flush when he sees how small your hand is compared to his and does his level best not to let his eyes stray to the shape of your ass in your jeans, knowing he's liable to trip on his way up if he catches even a glimpse.
It’s going to be a long weekend.
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Part 2
AN: this is part one of idk how many! will probs just be one or two more but who can say!
please please please comment or reblog, i need to know your thoughts or i die inside! im like tinker bell, i need attention to survive!
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10hong · 2 months
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writing suspese and titilation but the tension is between me and whether or not i'll finish this draft before the idea is gone
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10hong · 2 months
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good god please go read this if you haven't and if you already have just do it again </3 every single comment i said prior still holds up and i'm still absolutely enamored by this series oh my gawd like you have no idea. the characterization lives in my head rent free and i come back often twirling my hair kicking my feet,,, like im so series mc could bite him and he'd thank her screaming and crying,, if no one got me i know em sluttywoozi's charas got me
First Things First Part 2 of 2
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Summary: Direct continuation of First Things First
Rating: M (18+ MDNI) | WC: ~5.5k
Content Notes/Warnings: virgin san, consent and communication heavy, shy/nervous san, oral (f.rec.), san is a pussy eating ace, fingering, wap reader, mid sex safety talk, birth control implant mention, condomless sex, oral (m.rec.)
Reader Notes: vagina and breasts, fem pronouns, usage of girlfriend
For @sluttywonwoo
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The past fifteen minutes have been the best of San’s life. 
You’re in his bed, warm and sweet and soft underneath him. He’s got your hands in his hair, his tongue in your mouth, and your legs wrapped around his waist. Your hips jerk in little movements against his, the heat between your thighs seeping into his jeans and sending what feels like all the blood in his body down into his cock. He’s throbbing already, the zipper pressing almost painfully against his dick, and it’s all so, so much but, at the same time, not nearly enough. 
Even your breathing has him feeling lightheaded, the little hitches and breathy sighs and heady exhales drifting over his lips and making him let out stunted moans in response. 
He breaks away to grab at the back of his shirt and whip it over his head, tossing it over his shoulder as he fights a smirk at the dilation of your pupils and the gasp you’d let out when you set eyes on his chest. 
Rubbing the hem of your top between his fingers, San builds up his courage before asking somewhat nervously, “Can I take this off?” 
You grin as you lean up to let him tug your shirt up, and the sight of you laying back on his comforter in just your bra and jeans makes his head spin. San never thought he’d get to see you like this, touch you and feel you and breathe you in, and now that you’re here, it feels so surreal he’s not positive he’s awake. 
“You can take these off too, if you want,” You offer, sliding a thumb beneath the waistband of your pants as you stare up at him, waiting for a response. 
“I can?” San questions, astounded for some reason. 
“Yeah, babe, it’s kinda necessary for the end goal here,” you laugh, your fingers inching closer to the button and zip. 
His hands cover yours, stilling them as he whispers, “Let me, please.”
The button comes undone easily and the zipper glides down smoothly, thank goodness, and San only has to wrestle with your jeans a little bit to get them off, a victorious “yah!” escaping him once your legs are bare. You giggle at his antics, reaching behind your back to unclip your bra but leaving it on so the choice is up to him. 
“This too?”
“If you want.” 
“Hold on, lemme just-” 
San climbs off of you and swiftly shucks his jeans off, jumping back onto the bed before you have a chance to see the wet patch on his boxers. 
He sucks in a deep breath as he straddles you and pulls at the straps on your shoulders, slowly dragging the structured fabric away from your chest and fighting to hold in the whimper rising up in his. 
You’re so beautiful, so hot and sexy and lush, everything he’s ever dreamed of and somehow more because his imagination could never do you justice, could never adequately conjure up the shape of your breasts and the peak of your nipples and the delicate expansion of your rib cage as you watch him stare at you. 
You let him take in his fill, let him run his hands all over your soft skin, let him feel every bump and curve and imperfection, and he swears he falls even deeper in love. 
Not just because of your perfect tits, but also because of your patience, your willingness to allow him time to explore, your endless well of compassion and love. 
“Can I go down on you? I wanna taste you so bad,” San breathes into your tummy, his fingers gripping tightly at your hips and his heart racing just at the thought of getting his mouth on you. 
It’s something he’s dreamed about entirely too often, not that he can ever remember what exactly happens. All he knows is that he wakes up insanely hard and wishing you were in bed next to him, missing the taste of something he’s never even seen or touched before. 
“You can do anything you want to me, San.”
And fuck, if that doesn’t spark a shiver he feels all the way down to his toes. 
You lay there with your legs spread, your pretty pussy on full display, just waiting for him to find his place between your thighs, and he knows he should dive right in.
He should, but he’s nervous all of a sudden, knowing he has no fucking clue what he’s doing (beyond his dreams and porn) and scared he won’t be able to make you feel good, or that you’ll get bored, or, even worse, that you’ll hate it and tell him to stop and decide you don’t love him anymore. 
It must show on his face because you bring your thighs together and sink a hand into his hair to tug him up your body. He ends up with his chin pressed between your breasts and a pout on his lips, barely able to even look you in the eye. 
“Are you okay, Sannie? We can stop whenever you want,” you assure him, your brows drawn together and your eyes sincere. 
He groans, faceplanting in your chest and snaking his arms underneath you to pull you closer, mumbling his response into your skin. 
“San?”
“I don’t want to stop. I’m…nervous,” he repeats a bit louder, turning his head to rest on your breast so he still doesn’t have to look at you, “I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
You sigh fondly, raking your fingers through his hair before taking a handful and bringing his head back to face you, his attempt to hide the moan that rose up in him the second you started pulling his hair unsuccessful. 
Smiling gently at him, you cup his face and smoosh his cheeks together, forcing his lips into an even bigger pout. 
“San, literally nothing you could do would disappoint me. I’ve never been someone’s first before and I’m scared to disappoint you, but as long as we’re honest and open with each other about what we want and how we’re feeling, everything will be fine. Wonderful, even!”
“Promise?” San asks through pursed lips.
“Promise.”
You lean down to give him a kiss, relaxing your grip on his face and letting him kiss you back. 
He holds you tight, lazily making out with you until the tension bleeds out of his shoulders and his heart returns to its normal pace (or as normal as it can get when you’re around). 
Okay San, you can do this, he thinks as he releases you from his arms and starts sliding down your body.
“Yes, you can, babe,” you cheer quietly, making San muffle an embarrassed whine in your stomach when he realizes he’d said that out loud. 
He figures it can’t get worse from here so it’s not too difficult to smooch his way to your hips, sucking kisses from one side to the other before shouldering your thighs apart and pressing one leg to the bed so he can fit in between them. 
San can smell you from here, tangy and sweet and something he wants in his mouth immediately, so he hefts your legs up onto his shoulders and licks his way into you. 
Obviously, he’s never tasted pussy before, but he’s already decided yours is the best. You’re so soft, and kinda sour, and so fucking wet there’s nothing for him to do but shove his tongue into your entrance to get more of you on his tastebuds. 
You sigh a moan, your hands sinking into his hair and pulling him up slightly to a little nub he assumes is your clit, and once he sucks it into his mouth, the change is instant. 
You get even wetter and louder, your hips bucking up into him before his hands pull them back down to the bed as his tongue laps at you, gliding through your folds and ending with a pointed flick to your clit. 
He’s so obsessed with how you sound, your breathy gasps and whines and moans, and he follows them to find what you like. You get louder when he sucks instead of licks, when he swirls his tongue instead of tapping it, when he groans and whimpers into you instead of just breathing, and he weaponizes all of it. 
San has always been a fast learner, especially when it comes to hands-on lessons, and this is just one more thing he seems to pick up easily. It’s not all that difficult and he doesn’t know why some of his friends have complained about not being able to make their girlfriends cum, but they must not have been trying hard enough. 
He thinks he might get to see you cum soon, might get to make you cum, and that thought is enough to make him double his efforts. His tongue works over you, and as soon as you whine out, “Fingers, San, two fingers, inside me,” he listens, sliding his fingers into your entrance. 
Fuck, he forgets how to move his mouth when he feels you from the inside, your walls clenching around him already, the ridges and insane tightness of your cunt mesmerizing. His dick is definitely bigger than two of his fingers so he knows he’s got more work to do, but he honestly could cum in his pants just from this. 
That wouldn’t be so bad, San thinks, knowing you won’t make fun of him or judge him and that you’ll be there when he’s actually ready to fuck you, but he wants it to happen tonight, damnit, so he steels himself and devotes all of his focus to making you cum. 
He’s spent an embarrassing amount of time on forums dedicated to finding the g-spot so he implements what knowledge he has and crooks his fingers up, rubbing along the front of your walls until your hips buck up and you cry out his name. 
His own hips dig into the mattress when he hears his name on your lips, the little bit of pressure and friction on his dick enough to tide him over until he can make you break. You seem to like when he drags his fingers in and out, even though you’re clenching hard enough he has to really pull, and he keeps those movements going, curving his fingertips into the rough patch inside you relentlessly. 
Your back arches as your breath stalls in your lungs, and he can barely make out you pleading for another finger but he slides his ring finger in on the next thrust anyway, crooking all three and jerking them in and out until your cunt seizes up around them, sucking at your clit until you cry and start to gush. A flood of wetness hits his chin but he keeps going, curling his fingers inside you and tonguing your clit as you shake your way through an orgasm. 
He tries to hide the elation even though he knows his eyebrows make it obvious, but he can’t find it in himself to care with the thought that he’d just made you cum echoing in his head. 
That’s one down, San thinks, slowing his fingers inside you and riding out the pulsing of your cunt, nearly losing his mind as he imagines what you’ll feel like around his cock. He can’t think about it too much or he’ll cum now, so he slides his fingers out of your pussy and sucks them into his mouth, not at all expecting the whimper that escapes you when you see his lips wrapped around them. 
“Was that good?” San asks, licking around his mouth to get as much of you as he can before he lowers your legs off his shoulders and starts kissing his way up your body. 
You’re still catching your breath, managing a nod as he rises to hover above you and press kisses to your face. You sigh weakly, brushing his cheekbone with your fingertips and licking your own taste off his lips when his mouth meets yours. 
“So good, San, so so so good.”
He grins against you, swallowing the “Thank fuck,” that threatens to tumble from his lips while barely repressing the urge to grind himself into your wet heat. He’d thought you felt good before, when there were four layers separating you, but now that there’s just the one, San feels like he could lose it right here and now. 
Even through his boxers, he can feel the warmth of your pussy radiating into him, drawing him in and pulling him down, his hips digging into yours before he can will them to stay still. San doesn’t think you mind, your thighs spreading wider and your calves hooking around him, a soft gasp escaping your kiss-swollen lips. He gets a bit distracted, just grinding his cloth-covered cock into you until the fabric grows damp, until he can feel the head of his dick dragging through your folds and pressing into your clit. 
He’s not really sure why he’s edging himself like this, but it probably has something to do with the fact that he never wants tonight to end. Yes, you’ve admitted your feelings for each other, but where do you go from here? Are you together now? Will this ever happen again? Are you going to sleep over or will you want to leave after? He wants you to stay, wants you to stay and move into his room and wake up with him and then make breakfast together and oh no, he got pancake batter on your shirt, he’ll just have to take it off, but what’s this? It’s on your skin too? Well, it’s only right that he clean you up with his-
“Sannie? You with me?”
Your hands are cupping his face again, your eyes searching his as a worried line forms between your eyebrows. He smooths it out with a gentle kiss, smiling sheepishly at you and trying to figure out how to explain himself. 
You’re patient with him, as always, letting him work through his thoughts with one hand running through his hair and the other rubbing up and down his back. Your fingers dig into knots he didn’t know he had, both in his hair and in his muscles, and by the time he’s formulated an answer, he’s boneless against you, his arms relaxed on either side of your head and his face nestled in your neck. 
He mumbles into your skin, just loud enough for you to hear with the proximity of his mouth to your ear, though he’s sure his voice is a bit muffled. 
“I just really, really like you. Like, I love you. And I was dragging this out because I’m scared of what will happen when we’re done.”
You pull him up by the hair again to look at you and he doesn’t bother trying to hide his moan this time, lets his eyelids flutter and his shoulders shake with the shiver that wracks his body. He grins as your chest flushes against his, the heat of your skin nearly matching the heat between your thighs before you shake your head and push at his shoulders. 
He reluctantly parts from you to flop on his back, his eyes widening and his breath catching when you climb on top of him. 
“You’re so fucking pretty,” San breathes, his hands grazing your stomach and rising to cup your breasts. Your nipples pebble against his palms and he’s distracted by the sensation, nearly missing your shy little smile and quiet, “So are you.”
He doesn’t miss the rolling of your hips into his, the pressure and heat on his cock nearly blinding with all of your weight pressing into him like this. It honestly makes him feel better, more secure, to have his back against the bed and you anchoring him down, knowing you’ll take care of him and make sure he’s safe and happy. 
You notice, of course, your eyes crinkling with your grin as you pet his pecs. He loves feeling your hands on him, loves having your attention and affection, loves knowing he’s the only thing on your mind right now, just like you’re the only thing on his most, if not all, of the time. 
It’s exactly what he needed for his overactive brain to settle down, for his worries and fears to melt away, and he wonders how you knew this would work. You always seem to know what he needs, whether it’s time or space or encouragement, and it’s almost scary to be known so well, especially when there are still parts of himself he wants to hide. Parts that are insecure, and jealous, and possessive. Parts he’s not ready for you to see. 
He supposes that’s the tough part of being in love - cracking your soul open, letting someone else see all of it, and hoping they still love you the same after. He has a feeling you’d love him more, and it’s enough for him to fully relax into the bed, relax into you, and just let it all go. 
Before you can ask, San answers, “I’m with you. I’m with you, and I’m good, and I’m ready.”
You nod, rising up on your knees and helping him tug his sodden boxers off, the fabric weighed down by both your wetness and the precum he’d been leaking for what feels like hours. His dick springs up against you, the tip barely brushing your folds before you settle just behind his balls and wrap your hand around his length. 
Your fingers don’t touch but your hand is so warm, so much softer than his own, and suddenly he realizes, “I don’t have any condoms.”
You slump a bit, biting your lips and looking around the room before seemingly deciding something. 
“Okay, I got tested at my last gyno appointment and I have an implant.”
San’s eyes bulge as you nod at a raised line under the skin of your inner arm. 
“That looks painful,” he worriedly exclaims, sitting up on an elbow to trace his fingers over the edges. 
“It hurt at first but now I barely notice it’s there,” you soothe him, petting at his abs and absentmindedly stroking his dick until he lays back down. 
He shudders out an “Oh,” that turns into a moan when your hand tightens around him. 
“What I’m saying is, it should be safe for us to skip a condom this time. I don’t want to get in the habit of it, but once wouldn’t be the end of the world, especially since it’s your first time.”
“Are you sure? I can go ask-”
“Honestly, San, I would rather die than give any of your friends confirmation that we’re about to have sex right now.”
“That’s fair,” he nods with a grimace, “I’m okay with it as long as you are.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t okay with it, San,” you say, smiling and rolling your palm over the head of his cock, smearing the precum around and dragging it down the length of him. 
“Right, right, right, right, right,” he pants, trying his best to keep himself from fucking up into your hand. 
“Baby, please, I won’t last.”
“Sorry, Sannie, your dick is just so pretty, I got distracted,” you admit before pressing his cock to his stomach and gliding your wet cunt over it. 
The feeling of you is almost too much for him to process your words, but once he does, the confusion clears a bit of the haze from his eyes. 
“What? It’s… a dick. It looks like a dick.”
“Well, yeah, but it’s your dick, and that makes it pretty. I wanted to blow you as soon as you took your pants off,” you insist. 
You’re still grinding on him, soaking his cock while you smile down at him, and San has had enough. 
“Babe, why are you torturing me? I thought you loved me,” he whines, his face screwing up as he tries to hold his climax at bay, practically begging you to sit on him already. 
Without giving you time to respond, San does start begging. 
“Please, please just put it in, let me feel you, please fuck me, please, please, please,” he cries, scrunching his eyes closed and throwing his head back against his pillow. 
His hands snap to your hips when he feels your weight leave him, his grip punishing and panicked before you hush him, one hand wrapped around his dick and the other on his cheek. 
“Sannie, Sannie, it’s alright, I do love you, I just needed space to line us up, okay?” 
He gasps, feeling the heat radiating from your pussy before his cock even actually comes into contact with you, his eyes rolling back as you slide him through your folds and tilt your hips to notch the head in your entrance. 
You start to sink down, your walls stretching, giving way around him as your cunt swallows his dick. The pleasure is blinding, breathtaking, life-changing. It’s like nothing San has ever felt before and no amount of reading or dreaming or porn watching could have prepared him for this. You’re speaking to him, or trying to, but every word from you gets jumbled in his mind, blurring together until all he can hear is your voice and his own breathing. He’s panting, hiccuping almost, unable to open his eyes more than a sliver because he knows a clear image of his dick disappearing inside you will send him over the edge, he’s that close. 
It takes every ounce of will and discipline in him to hold himself together, to force his eyes to open and meet yours, to nod when his brain finally pieces together your questions. 
You’ve been asking him if he’s okay, if it feels good, if you feel good, and once he starts talking, he can’t stop. 
“Never been better in my life, fuck, please keep going, baby, please, please just-”
You rise up a few inches and drop back down, building up a slow, measured pace. He can feel everything, every thump of his heart and every throb of his dick, every square inch of your cunt as you start to fuck him. 
“Want this always, need this always, need you forever, don’t fu- don’t fucking stop, baby, don’t stop, please, more.”
You’re so fucking good to him, so kind and so loving, rolling your hips harder and faster until the wet slap echoes around his small room. He can’t even hear the party anymore, can only hear the sounds coming from you and the noise of your body meeting his over the roaring in his ears. He feels like he needs to move, like he’ll crawl out of his own skin if he stays still any longer, so he gathers every brain cell he can find and tries to formulate words other than fuck, baby, and please. 
“Let me- Can I move? Can you just- Yeah, yeah, yeah, stay just like that, I’ll,” your hips still above him, your body raised up just high enough for him to start bucking into you. 
San’s got strong hips, sturdy hips, powerful hips, and they’re being put to a good use for the first time in his life. He can’t think of a purpose better for them than fucking you, than thrusting into you at different angles until you clench and leak around him, than pounding into that little rough spot inside you until you’re the one who can’t speak, who can’t keep their eyes open. 
He really didn’t think he’d last this long, but it’s almost easier to hold it off with his focus on making you feel good rather than how good he feels. Your thighs shake, the muscles threatening to give out as you get closer, so he tightens his grip on your hips and holds you up as he fucks you. That works for a while, long enough for your walls to start quivering around him, but he feels like you’re too far away. 
San needs to be close to you, needs to feel your soft skin against his and your heartbeat in his chest when he cums. His hands shift to your waist and tug insistently, pulling until you lay flat and he can wrap his arms around you. He buries his face in your neck, his open mouth pressed to your throat to muffle his moans as he feels the coil tighten inside his stomach and your cunt tighten around his cock. 
“Close? Are you close? Baby, please be close, please,” San chokes out, sighing a breath of relief when he feels you nod and hears you try to answer. 
You can’t get the words out but he knows what you mean, holding you tighter and trying to keep the same pace and intensity. He’s heard that most girls can’t have an orgasm just from fucking, but he thinks you’re about to so he doesn’t want to change anything, needs you to cum so he can too, or even better…
“Cum with me, baby,” he pants breathlessly into your shoulder, “Please cum, please cum with me, fuck, please, I need- I’m gonna-”
The rubber band holding back his climax breaks just as you do, his vision whiting out and his head going fuzzy when you clamp down around him. He has neither the strength nor the willpower to keep fucking you, to drag his cock from your walls as they pull him in deeper and deeper. His hips are flush against yours, his dick jumping and his cum pumping into you, unintelligible words of love pouring from his mouth until all rational thought leaves his mind. 
San is floating, drifting, levitating, your body on top of his and your cunt wrapped around him his only tethers to the real world. 
When he comes back to himself, his dick is softening, your combined cum starting to seep out of you and puddle in his v-lines. It’s kinda gross but mainly hot, his addled brain shouting at him to drag a finger through and put it in his mouth, find out what you taste like after he’s filled you up. He wonders if he could do it without you noticing, but if you kiss him again (which he hopes you do), you’ll know, and he thinks it would be weirder to do it behind your back than it would be to do it right in front of you. 
He lets his head drop to the pillow and loosens his grip on you, running his fingers up and down your spine until the aftershocks of your orgasm stop. You still feel so tight around him, your cunt still searing hot and fucking drenched, and he groans as he feels his dick twitch back to life. 
“Are you- Are you fucking hard again?” You moan, your voice sounding awed instead of irritated, like he’d expected you to be. 
“Yeah, sorry. It normally takes longer but you feel so fucking good, I couldn’t help it. We don’t have to fuck again, just give me a couple minutes and I’ll take care of it,” he apologizes, his cheeks hot with embarrassment as he starts to pull out of you. 
You let him, but before he can wiggle out from underneath your body, you shuffle down to lay between his knees. 
“Can I? I wanted to suck you off before so this is perfect!” 
You’re beaming up at him, your fingers tapping on his tense thighs as you wait for him to answer. 
He feels like he’s dreaming. 
Seriously, he’s had a dream like this before but you looked too flawless, too put together to be real. He likes this version of you much better, your hair mussed and your makeup smeared and your plump lips stretched in a smile. This you is just for him, and it’s a you he’ll keep forever, no matter what happens after tonight. 
Your grin dims, and San remembers he’s supposed to respond to you. 
“Sorry, yes, yeah, you can, of course you can. As long as you want to. Which you do, or you wouldn’t have offered, right? Right?” 
Will he ever be able to talk to you like a regular adult person?
Probably not, but he can’t be bothered when you mumble, “Right,” in between licks to the head of his dick. 
Your mouth feels different than your pussy. He wouldn’t say better, because he doesn’t think anything could be better than your cunt molded around him, but your mouth is amazing in its own right. It’s hot and wet and small, your lips barely able to wrap around his cock. 
Fuck, and the view.
You, sprawled between his thighs with your hands clenching at the muscles sporadically, your perfect ass bouncing as your legs kick sedately. You, with your mouth stuffed full of him, your eyes tearing up as you bob up and down, your mascara streaking down your cheeks. He can’t keep his eyes open for too long, his eyelids fluttering with every suck, but even when he lets them fall shut, he still sees you like your visage has been burned into his eyelids. 
Everything goes to hell when you swallow around him. 
One of his hands clutches at your hair and the other covers yours on his thigh, your name leaving his lips, stuttered out and repeating like a broken record as his hips jerk, shoving his dick further down your throat. 
He apologizes as best he can considering he doesn’t know words anymore, petting your scalp and squeezing your fingers, trying to keep his ass pinned to the bed with whatever strength he has left. 
You warble around his cock, probably telling him it’s okay because you’ve been nothing but supportive and reassuring and perfect and lovely and beautiful and everything he needs this entire time, and it’s just too much. 
It’s all too much, and before he can warn you, he’s cumming down your throat. 
There’s less than before and he doesn’t fly away again this time, but it’s still better than it ever is on his own. Sharper, more visceral, longer-lasting, and by the time it’s over, he’s mumbling helplessly. 
“Sorry, sorry, love you, thank you, please can you, please, I’m sorry, I love you, love you, love you,” San whispers as he grabs you under your arms and hauls you up his body, gathering you up in his arms and pressing his mouth to yours. 
You mostly taste like him with a tinge of you, and while he wishes the ratio was flipped, he still likes it. Likes it enough to suck your tongue into his mouth so he can get more of the flavor on his taste buds, enough to roll over on top of you and lick his way down to your pussy, enough to shove his tongue inside of you and fuck in and out and in and out until you cum with a shiver and a little whine, pushing his face away when he doesn’t let up. 
He rests his head on your thigh and looks at you for a bit longer, just taking you in, until you squirm in discomfort and pull at his hair. He kisses up your body, biting a mark into the place where your neck meets your shoulder and pressing a gentle peck to your still parted lips. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, love you, thank you,” he breathes into your mouth, sinking into you more and more until he’s boneless and smothering you. 
“I can’t, Sannie, you have to-” 
He wraps his arms around you and rolls back over so you can breathe, his fingers dancing across your back and hips, his body unable to settle with all of the love and affection pinballing around in his chest. 
“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks in the midst of his dopamine daze, barely registering the incredulous look you throw at him as you respond, “Of course I will, you big, hot dummy.”
“I love you, girlfriend,” San croons into your ear. 
“I love you too, boyfriend,” you breathe into his chest, copping one last feel of his bicep before you push up and ask, “Now, where’s your shower? We’re way too gross to sleep like this. And we both need to brush our teeth or I can’t kiss you for the rest of the night.”
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Not pictured: San secret agent sneaking you down the hall and going down on you aGain in the shower until your legs give out, San smoothing a bandaid and a kiss on your banged up elbow, San stealing one of Jongho's spare toothbrushes from the costco pack he buys and bumping his hip into yours as you brush your teeth side by side, San wrapping you up in his fluffiest towel and smoothing moisturizer onto your skin, San dressing you in his clothes and trying not to get hard again, San cradling you in his arms as he falls asleep with a smile on his face because he knows you’ll be there when he wakes up
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AN: oof way longer than i anticipated but here we are. I will never learn! beta read by @petrichor-mingi thank you endlessly
anyway please for the love of god, comment and reblog! likes work too but i love to know what you think of my work and even a keyboard smash in the tags makes me smile all day 💖
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10hong · 2 months
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Ateez at Coachella 2024 | Park Seonghwa
credit: Sparkling Heart
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10hong · 2 months
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ough angst bf beomgyu begging you to stay 💀
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beomgyu's heart jumps when you stare down at him. his tears and his snot wet his face, leaving him soft and inviting as he cries. but you're cutting, you're piercing, and you're looking at him like he's disgusting; like he's a beast dedicated to killing your spirit.
still he clings to you in prayer. biceps pressing firmly into your calves, he begs for you to stay. his palms radiate warmth from where they're clasped behind your knees and his knuckles brush your thighs in a desperate plea.
yes, pervert love for him. yes, preserve him beyond your means. yes, look at him like he's worth something.
don't look away, he breathes, don't ever look away.
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10hong · 2 months
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i need to enter my warmau era and post whatever whenever i want. they're so cool. heart heart heart
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