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[purinjoong]

pretty little thing

જ⁀➴ park seonghwa x fem!reader

❝you knew there must be another side to him. one with needs and wants and hidden desires. you couldn't help but wonder what that side might look like.❞

wc; 2.4k

cw; mdni, nerd!seonghwa, college au, SMUT, first time together, established relationship, soft dom hwa, thigh riding, slight praise kink, dacryphila, unprotected sex, overuse of pet names, hwa in glasses (a warning of its own)

notes; i hope you all enjoy♡

🎧 all mine by plaza + hrs & hrs by muni long

When you first met Park Seonghwa, you hadn't thought much of him. Other than he was devastatingly beautiful, with the kind of smile you'd expect sweet woodland creatures to flock to and a soft spoken voice that matched absolutely everything else about him. His long wavy hair curling onto his reddened cheeks and big round eyes, and his perfectly color coordinated attire. The only thing that even could possibly take away from it all were the large black rimmed glasses he wore everyday. Too big for his face, really, with the way they were constantly slipping down his nose.

They were just as clumsy as the rest of his endearingly awkward demeanor. His sheepish half smiles when you complimented his outfits and stuttered apologies after accidentally bumping into you in the halls. Everything about Seonghwa was exactly that. Endearing.

So sweet your teeth physically hurt. So cute, a constant smile remained on your face even hours after your shared elective class ended. You felt yourself fall rather quickly for the shy, darling film studies major. Enamored by his ramblings about the Star Wars franchise over lunch and the animal crossing stickers decorating his laptop case.

He wasn't the type you'd normally go for, not at all. He couldn't be more different, really. Seonghwa looked like a doll in comparison to the almost rugged quality of your previous exes. Where they were rough edges and blatant arrogance, he was all kind eyes and soft lines. Tender and pure and all things good in the world.

You didn't dare let yourself believe you had him fully figured out - it was much to early to say that exactly - but you felt you had a pretty good idea. Especially after you ended up being the one to ask him out, following his many failed attempts at getting the words out for himself. Only to then end up helping him recollect the folders he had dropped in surprise at your offer as he struggled out a flustered and enthusiastic yes.

You knew there must be something more to him. Not in a bad way by any means - in the time you'd come to know Seonghwa, you'd come to trust that a bad bone didn’t exist inside his body. But more so, another side to him. One with needs and wants and hidden desires. You couldn't help but wonder what that side might look like.

You caught a glimpse, eventually. On a night your dinner plans ran later than usual as you two sat under the setting sun hours after your plates had been cleared, eventually having to be run off by the workers who needed to close up shop. The night still didn't end for you two even then, and somehow you wound up in the backseat of Seonghwa's car, straddling his lap as you kissed each other with a ferocity that seemed to have come out of nowhere.

Seonghwa had started it, a short staring match that led to him kissing you with a fever you hadn't expected him to possess. With it came his hands wandering the expanse of your torso, touching and squeezing like at any minute you could disappear from his grasp. You certainly don't plan on it, but after a while you do have to pull back to catch your breath.

While your chest is heaving, you catch sight of it. A certain fire in Seonghwa's eyes that wasn't there only moments ago. His gaze on you feels scolding hot as he trails his eyes over you, appearing much like a starved man ready to dive in. He doesn't, that night at least. He suggests you both turn in for the day and continue this another time. You pout, and he laughs and kisses it away, but stands by his word.

You gather that Seonghwa didn't want your first time together to be in his car, of all places, so you offer a weekend movie night as a sort of compromise. He agrees with a knowing smile.

It doesn't last long. You can't focus on whatever classic romance film Seonghwa picked out, even if any other time you would've gladly listen to his thoughts and critics about the storyline. Today, you only have one thing on your mind, and it appears Seonghwa does to.

It doesn't take very long to wind up with your pants discarded on the floor, Seonghwa's hands holding either side of your hips as you pathetically rut against the fabric of his jeans with a desperation you've never quite felt before.

He's still the same Seonghwa. Dressed to the nines even on such a causal hangout with you, although his newspaper boy hat has since been removed in your haste to run your fingers through his hair only moments ago. His same, unruly raven locks are now framing his face in a way that shouldn't be as flattering of a picture as it is.

It's the same Seonghwa, with the same oversized, black rimmed glasses currently sliding down his face. Your heart almost physically aches from wanting so bad to reach out and push them back up his nose bridge.

"Pretty baby," he coos, a feather like touch dragging along your jaw. Seonghwa loved calling you that. Pretty. "You could probably come just like this, hmm? You'd love it, too, wouldn't you?"

The movie he'd put on earlier is still running behind you. It had barley started before you found yourself in this exact position. Seonghwa's hardly even done anything, but your mind is almost drifting from you as your struggle to register his questions, and the verbal response you realize he's expecting.

"Y-yes," you manage, only to hope like hell it's enough.

No praise, just a nod, but he doesn't click his tongue either. You whine high in your throat. Barely enough.

"Show me then, pretty," he instructs so casually. "Come for me, just like this."

The demand causes a swoop in your lower stomach, lurching you embarrassingly closer to that high your so desperately chasing. You can't bring your hips to slow down, but you have to let him know what you actually want.

"But-but," you start, already feeling your eyes going damp. It should be embarrassing that Seonghwa could so easily bring you to tears without ever lifting a finger. "I want you... inside. When I cum."

Seonghwa nods slowly, his saccharine smile now seeming almost mocking, "I'll give you what you want, angel. I'm not done with you yet."

At that, it doesn't take more than a few more seconds for your hips to stutter as your climax crashes down on you. You ride out your high in slow motions that are almost entirely helped by his hold on your hips. Even as your movements stop, his doesn't, and you whimper from the sensitivity of your core against his now thoroughly soaked pants.

"Sorry," you mutter a little sadly, once your grounded slightly back to Earth. "About your pants."

Seonghwa laughs lowly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips, "You're okay, baby. Don't apologize."

You're sure you are already red in the face, your cheeks tingling from the heat and your unsteady breathing but the way he's staring up at you certainly doesn't help your case in the slightest.

He brings one hand up to cup your face, pulling you down to meet his soft lips. The taste of his usual strawberry lip balm still remains, despite all the kissing you've done earlier in the night. You had no reason not to believe Seonghwa didn't constantly smell of fresh fruit and vanilla. A fatal combo that caused a painful twist in your chest - he was always so sweet, even like this. Bright shining eyes glazed over with a certain haze that still didn't take at all away from his usual gentle touches and adoring words.

"Lay down for me," he directs when you pull away, his soft breath fanning over your bottom lip.

Like it's your only calling, you scramble to follow his orders. Nearly falling off his lap and onto the floor entirely in your haste. He, in contrast, moves much slower. Taking his absolute time on every button of his shirt while his intense watch on you never wavers.

Before entirely undressing himself, he helps you remove your ruined panties and finishes pulling your crinkled shirt over your head. You lay bare in front of his approving gaze as he rakes up and down your figure, back to your face and back down again.

"Pretty little thing," he mumbles, his voice sounding impossibly deeper to your love stricken ears. He runs an open palm down the expanse of your side. "All mine."

You nod, so quick you're positive your hair is nothing more than a mess sprayed across the cushions. Seonghwa grins at your eagerness and rewards you by moving his hand to cup your core.

It's a light touch, hardly any pressure applied at all, but you simply can't help the moan that leaves you. From the sensitivity and the bone deep craving for his touch that you haven't felt where you truly needed it until now.

His thumb makes lazy circles of your clit as he watches your every expression with keen interest. You wonder if it shows on your face just how hard your fighting not to buck up into his touch to seek even more friction. Take what he gives you, you tell yourself. As quickly as Seonghwa could bring you pleasure, he could just as easily take it away.

He easily slips one finger into you, and a second after only a few lone pumps of his hand. You hold his stare with some difficulty as the pleasure builds, that same ball of heat beginning to build within you.

Then just like that, he takes it away. You could almost cry, but you realize what's coming.

"Please," you beg, despite knowing you don't really have to. Maybe you're just hoping to break his resolve as much as he's completely destroyed yours - make him as rushed and desperate as you feel right now.

Seonghwa shushes you softly, rubbing the inside of your thigh, "I got you, pretty."

You all but melt, trusting and believing his words with a baited breath. It still feels like forever until he's dragging the head of his cock along your folds. You squirm despite yourself, craving for absolutely anything more, and he finally gives in.

The stretch is pleasant, overwhelming in the best way possible. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as he takes his absolute time. Your torn between relishing in the feeling and begging him to hurry up.

You decide on neither before he's entirely bottomed out, and he keeps himself there while you adjust to the feeling. Your mouth opening and closing with no sensible words coming to mind.

"How do you feel, pretty?" He asks, sounding completely put together and collected and everything you're not at the moment.

"Good. Full," you eventually say, the words sounding broken to even your own ears. You've never been so turned on in your life. "You can move."

He studies your expression for another passing moment, "You're sure?"

You nod, and the first sign of his resolve crumbles. His props his arms up by either side of your head as he begins fucking into you, a languid pace that you can't tell is for your sake or by his choice. You lean towards the latter, as all too soon you realize it's not enough.

"More, please," you tell him, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. "Faster."

Seonghwa's gaze lifts up to study your face, a half smirk playing on his lips, "What, am I not giving my baby enough now?"

You would have never thought after your first meeting with Seonghwa that he would have such a mouth on him. That you would ever be on the receiving end of his desire, much less, or that it would look at all like this.

"Please, Hwa," you all but beg, feeling the first tear slip down your face.

Seonghwa cooes, bringing one of his hands to delicately wipe at your cheek. He looks so pleased, his own breathing even-keeled much unlike your own.

He hums in mock thought, "Okay, love. If you're sure."

Almost too quickly, Seonghwa switches to pounding into you at a surprising pace. Your jaw falls open in a cut off gasp while Seonghwa finally starts letting sounds of pleasure fall from his own mouth.

Unable to bare having him so close yet not close enough for a moment longer, you pull him down until your chests are flush against one another. Slipping your fingers through his hair, you use the newfound hold to bring your lips together messily. As if trying to match his hurry, you kiss him absolutely breathless, until his chest is heaving nearly as much as yours.

Seonghwa is the first to pull away this time, refusing to travel far and he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. Already, you feel another climax building up in you, and you know you won't last much longer.

"Close," you manage between moans and gasps, his pace unforgiving and filling you up just right.

He nods against you, his free hand coming up to guide your lips to his for another brief peck, "I got you, pretty. Let go for me."

It really doesn't take much more than that. Still, Seonghwa brings his fingers down to rub at your clit, the overwhelming sensation nearly causing you to jerk away from his touch. Your high crashes down on you in mere seconds, and you imagine Seonghwa's must follow quickly suit, as a strangled groan falls from his lips in tandem above you.

You catch your breath for a moment, reeling a bit from having possibly the most intense orgasm of your life. Eventually you recognize the feeling of gentle kisses being left all over your face when two are pressed over your closed eyelids. You blink them open, coming to meet Seonghwa's glowing grin first thing.

"There's my pretty girl," he practically whispers. You feel like you could cry all over again, but now for an entirely different reason. "Was that... okay?"

The same Seonghwa, with a thought crease between his brows and his glasses slipping down his face once more. This time, you don't hesitate. You bring your arm up to push the bridge up his nose, leaving your hand there to cup the side of his face. Your Seonghwa is all the same.

"Perfect, Hwa," you assure him, beaming back just as brightly. “You were perfect.”

[purinjoong]

hi hello omg :3

we're moots now which means I live here <3 ily

YIPPEE!!!! thank u SO much for your feedback it literally made my day 😭💞

[purinjoong]

take off your halo and wings (j.yh)

summary: yunho can't keep his hands off his angel, especially when he stumbles on one of your less than angelic desires.

jeong yunho x reader :: established relationship, smut, fluff, pervert!yunho, soft and slight mean dom yunho, fem bodied reader (gender not specified)

warnings below the cut!

praise, dacryphilia, marking, slight size kink, fingering, unprotected sex (!!!), dirty talk, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart, love, puppy)

notes: sadly not proofread im too impatient .. </3 approx 4.9k words!

Yunho swears he would never do anything you’re not ready for, and he doesn’t have any ulterior motives as he snuggles deeper into your embrace on the couch, the colors dancing on the TV flickering across your face. He likes this show, he really does— he was the one who asked to watch it with you— but with the way your head is nuzzled just under his chin and your body is pressed comfortably against his, he has front-row tickets to the tantalizing scent of your hair products and the dizzying warmth of your skin under his palms and against his thighs. 

Every breath he takes thrusts him further into his thoughts, heart thumping against his chest so hard he’s afraid it’ll start jostling you with its movement if it beats any faster. He’s overwhelmed by the need to smooth his palms against the sweet curve of your hips, to kiss you until you’re gasping for air, your clenched fists cutely twisting at the fabric of his loose shirt as he drops his head to your neck, nipping at the soft skin. 

He’s staring blankly ahead, lost in thoughts of you when you let out a cute squeak at something happening in the show. At the noise, his gaze flits down to where your bodies are tangled together, breath hitching as you shuffle around in his hold to get more comfortable. Your thighs are sandwiching one of his arms now, and he’s genuinely holding his breath trying not to whimper from how desperately he needs to have his mouth between your thighs instead, your fingers weaved into his hair as he licks and sucks at you. 

You seem to have noticed something is off, since you tear your eyes away from the screen to fix him with an angelic look of concern, pretty eyes wide and sparkly as you ask him if he’s feeling alright. Fuck, he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, but he responds with a mumbled noise of confusion because he genuinely can’t focus on anything other than the way your lips curve around every vowel you utter and how badly he needs your lips moving against his own.

Your arm (the one that isn’t wrapped around his back) comes up to brush some of his hair out of his face, and it’s just a soft, gentle touch, but he can’t stop the shuddered breath that escapes his chest. He’s so thankful the back of your hand covers the sinful way his eyes threaten to roll back into his head from the mere brush of your fingers against his forehead. 

“You’re warm, baby,” you say worriedly, flipping the hand resting against his forehead so that your palm is pressed against it instead. 

“‘M fine,” he replies, inwardly pumping his fist at how normal he sounds in spite of the desire thrumming through his veins. “Let’s keep watching,” 

You give him a look, eyebrows cutely knitting together in disapproval, but you bring your hand away from his forehead and go back to resting your cheek against his chest to comfortably face the TV. 

The measured rise and fall of your body as it lays against his lulls him further into his daze. He tries to tug his arm away from the back of the couch so he can stroke your hair, but his limbs move like he’s trying to swim through a pool of syrup.

It doesn’t help that he’s so acutely aware of how close his other arm is to your core— the bare skin of your thighs are so soft and warm where they’re sandwiched around his forearm, and if you shift any closer he’ll literally be pressed right against the seat of your cute pajama shorts, applying sweet pressure that he knows would have you struggling to stifle a moan.

He feels like a pervert, he is a pervert, with the way he cartoonishly gulps at the slightest movement of the neckline of the shirt you’re borrowing from him. With the way it’s driving him insane right now, he can’t decide whether he wants you wearing it forever or if he should put all his clothes into a suitcase and throw it out into the ocean before he short circuits from how much he loves you and how seeing you in his clothes stokes the flames of the possessive little fire blazing in his heart, burning bright for you. It makes him want to growl mine, into every part of your body he can get his hands on, pressing a soft kiss and a sharp bite anywhere you’ll let him until you’re a collage of marks proving his adoration for you. 

Yunho’s fingers have been absentmindedly stroking your hair for a while now, and as his thoughts grow more possessive, his strokes have turned into delicious little tugs that feel just right, leading you to bite at your bottom lip and tense your thighs to prevent them from closing tighter around his arm. A particularly insistent tug at your hair from his long fingers draws a pathetic whine from your throat, a needy and wanton plea that causes both of you to freeze. 

You shut your eyes tightly, bashful— you’re just cuddling, for fuck’s sake, but as you’re smoldering with embarrassment, Yunho is fighting the urge to flip you onto your back and kiss the shit out of you. To draw more pretty sounds out of his favorite person until you’re begging him to stop, it’s too much, you can’t take it, but you both know you can and you love that he’ll make you take it. 

He opts for being more casual, so as not to scare you with the overwhelming wave of affection that washes over him from his forehead— where your hand was resting earlier— down to the tips of his toes, and tugs at your hair again. He manages to draw another sound out of you, a muffled little whimper (because you’ve doubled down on the force you’re biting your lip with), but it sends his heart reeling nonetheless. 

“What’s this, baby?” he breathes against your ear, and you shudder at his close proximity. 

“Nothing,” is your petulant response, and you both know it’s a lie with how your thighs shift around his arm. 

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Yunho says with a soft chuckle, the slight rasp to his voice shooting a bolt of arousal straight to your core. “It sounds like my angel has a dirty little secret to spill,” 

You open your mouth to protest, but he chooses that moment to apply just the right amount of pressure with his nails against your scalp and pulls. With your lips now accessible, a debauched moan floats free from your chest, and it's Yunho’s turn to feel a jolt of arousal shock his body. He wants nothing more than to take you, play you like a delicate instrument that sings a sweet melody just for him, but he sets his feelings aside because he decides he wants to hear you beg first. 

Everything about you is cute, and Yunho can go on for hours given the chance, but there’s something so delectable about seeing you soft and flustered in his arms, everything from your supple cheeks to your shy gaze just begging him to keep teasing you until you melt into his embrace like a marshmallow over an open flame. 

You won’t meet his eyes, not after the tempting way you keened into the pull of his fingers, and it drives him crazy. You’re embarrassed, but you don’t even have a clue how worked up everything you do makes him. It’s delightful, and it’s infuriating, but more than anything, it conjures that perverted, possessive beast in him that belongs to you, just like the rest of him. 

“Why are you so shy, baby?” he whispers. “Tell me how to make you feel good, and it’s yours,” Your gaze flickers to his bow-shaped lips, but it’s still shy, measured, like you’re afraid another whine will pierce the air if you let up on how harshly you’re biting your lip. 

There’s something so lewd about the way he unabashedly growls dirty words into your ears when you fuck, with his soft cheeks, sparkly eyes, and cute lips. It’s worse when his fluffy hair is half-covering his eyes, because he looks so cozy as he’s pounding into you so perfectly you can’t even form a train of thought. At the same time, whenever his pretty fingers roughly push his hair away from his face so he can fix you with a dark, predatory look as he hits that spot inside of you, you unravel for him without fail. 

There’s a method to the madness that is Yunho piecing you apart and molding you back together just to ruin you again. When you don’t respond, bashful gaze still trained on his lips, he coos. “All you have to do is tell me, baby, I’ll give it to you so good,” he coaxes. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try, but the way your voice trembles gives you away, and his lip curls up in triumph. 

He hums in response, cocky smirk still quirking his lip as he toys with a lock of your hair. “No?” he asks. “So if I took off these flimsy shorts of yours, you wouldn’t be dripping through your panties?” 

Suddenly, you’re aware of the way your thighs have been clenching around his forearm, and how you’re trapped between his sturdy chest and the plush cushions of the couch.

“Yunho,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” At your lack of a response, he coos, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the side of your lips but not quite on the plush flesh that’s practically tingling with the desire to be engulfed by Yunho’s. 

“I need it,” you breathe. “Need you,” And as badly as he wants to ravage your body with kisses until you’re moaning his name into his mouth, he’s transfixed by the image of your eyes welling with desperate tears, lips swollen from how you bite at them when you try to restrain your sounds and pleas for him to just give himself to you and to stop teasing already. Weak as he is to his desires of your flesh, he settles for pressing a sweet kiss to your collarbone and revels in the way your eyes flutter shut. 

“To do what, my love?” His voice is muffled by your skin as he litters it with more kisses. 

“Stop teasing me, please,” you whine pitifully, and you would have the strength to be embarrassed if it wasn’t for Yunho’s responding deep chuckle. His long fingers brush against your core, applying insistent, sweet pressure for a moment where its soaked the flimsy fabric of your shorts. He brings the glistening digits up to his mouth, pausing to admire the way your arousal clings to his fingers as he separates them. “Yunho,” you whisper, pleading with him to do something, anything to soothe the ache between your thighs. 

He sucks his fingers— coated in your desire— into his mouth, answering your desperate plea with a cocky smirk and a teasing hum around the fingers in his mouth. When your eyes well with tears, he takes pity on you, cooing and swiping at your cheeks with his clean hand. It’s his turn to be embarrassed from how hard your teary, pouting face makes him; he can’t bring himself to tease his angel any further when the only thing he can think about is having you cry on his cock. Yunho brings a thumb to your lips, parting them and kissing you so fervently it feels like he’s pulling the breath out of your lungs. 

You’re so lost in his lips that the gentle yet firm brush of Yunho’s knuckles against the seat of your shorts sends a delicious jolt of arousal up your spine, a cute squeak slipping out of your mouth and into his. You feel the way his lips quirk in amusement, a silent pledge to draw as many lewd noises from you as he can before the night is over. The circles he rubs against your clothed clit are anything but soothing, forcing you to break away from Yunho’s intoxicating kisses to catch your breath, face pressed against his chest while your hips buck against his hand.

“More, please,” you beg, hand sliding under his shirt to run your fingers along his soft skin. 

“Yeah?” he chuckles, but how can he deny his angel, especially when asked so sweetly? He finally makes direct contact with your drooling cunt, long fingers teasing your folds until one is eagerly sucked in by your walls. 

“So good,” you babble into his shirt, and the laugh that rips from his chest is mean, but so, so sexy. 

“Just like that, huh, baby?” he coos. When your answer is nothing but a pathetic whine of his name, he chuckles again, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, sweetheart, I’ll give it to you just how you like it,” 

“Need you to fuck me, Yunho,” you gasp, fists clenching uselessly around his shirt while he scissors his fingers in you. You know he’s trying to stretch you out, make it easier for you to take him, but you don’t care at this point. Every moment without his warmth filling you up and fucking you full is driving you crazy. The sharp glint of his smirk at your words has your walls clenching frantically around his fingers, drawing a guttural groan from Yunho’s throat that he throws his head back for. 

You can’t even bite back the pitiful whine the sight pulls out of you— you want to bite his neck, to bury your face in him and drown in his ocean, never coming back up for air if it means you can be surrounded by him, engulfed by him. “Please Yun, I can’t take it,” you whimper, voice catching when his fingers press against that spongy spot inside of you that draws a litany of sounds and broken cries of his name as he takes advantage of it. 

“But you’re soaking my hand, love,” he teases, a cruel smirk taking over his features as your fingers scrabble to grab a hold of his wrist. His ministrations have your limbs tingling, grip weak as you try to halt his pleasing assault on your pussy. “So wet, just for me, hm?” 

“Yours,” you nod frantically, nails lightly scratching at his forearm as you moan at the stimulation. “Put it in, Yunho, please?” you break, too far gone, too lost in the pleasure he pushes on you to care about the indecency and lewdness of your words, not when he’s staring you down like this. Not with his fingers mercilessly teasing your g-spot, sadistically cooing at the staccato whimpers that escape your mouth despite how hard you’re trying to stay quiet. 

“I can’t hear you honey, what was that?” he chuckles, voice dropping a little deeper at the frustrated moan you let out at his tormenting. 

“Yunho,” you huff, indignant, but it comes out as a breathy purr when he crooks his fingers against that spot just right. His sharp, cocky grin tells you it was no accident— he plays your body like an instrument, toying with you to draw out those pretty sounds you make just for him. 

“You’re clinging onto my fingers so tightly, baby, I need a little motivation to get them out to put my cock in you,” he says, voice dripping with faux sadness as though he isn’t enjoying every second of your helplessness beneath him. 

“You’re the wo-rst, Yunnie,” you scowl, face warming with embarrassment at the eroticism of your voice. Even you can’t take yourself seriously with the obscene moans punctuating your every word. 

“Awww, you want Yunnie that bad, baby?” he mocks. “It’s too bad you won’t beg for it,” 

Your trembling fingers curl tighter around his wrist to no avail, his assault on your g-spot so pleasurably mind-numbing that you stumble over your words as you try to beg for his cock, unintelligible cries of his name slipping past your lips. “Please, Yun, need you so badly, need you to fuck me so bad,” you finally manage, head thrown back to escape his piercing stare and perverse smile. “I’ll do anything, I’ll be so good, please just give it to me,” 

“There’s my angel,” he groans. Your pleading eyes brimming with unshed tears makes him want to hold you against the plush cushions of the couch and draw orgasm after orgasm from you until those tears are spilling down your cheeks, pleasure-addled brain unable to focus on anything but whining his name and pawing at his shirt the way you so endearingly do when he fucks you dumb. But since you asked so sweetly, so good for him as always, Yunho pulls his fingers out (with a firm rub against your g-spot and your pliant walls on the way out for good measure) and presses a reverent kiss to your clit before shucking down pants. 

You’re practically salivating, hands wringing the hem of his shirt in anticipation after so cruelly being denied his cock for so long. ”So eager, love,” Yunho chuckles, the weight of dick resting deliciously against your pussy. 

“It’s not my fault you’re such a tease,” you snark. “You could have been inside me ages ago, you sadist,” 

“Yeah?” is his only response, but his tone is so dangerous— airy, but threatening, with some hidden promise beneath it that you’re morbidly curious to discover. 

“Yeah,” you answer, but it comes out softly and timidly at the shift in his demeanor. The smirk on his face that disappeared at your brattiness returns, a more sinful glint in his eye as he takes in just how pliant you are for him.

“So cute, puppy,” he grins. “Fuck around and find out, huh?” And find out you do as he slides in, the glide laughably easy from how wet you’ve gotten from his teasing. 

“Yunho,” you whimper, a silent plea in your wide eyes to go faster, to stop tormenting you and to just give you all of him until there’s nothing left. 

“You’re soaking, angel,” he observes, blatantly ignoring your unspoken request. Instead, his thumbs find your folds, gently spreading them apart to expose your throbbing clit. You’re almost embarrassed at how closely he’s inspecting you, but you’re too overwhelmed by the hunger in his eyes as he bites his lip at your arousal. He brings a thumb against your clit, applying delicious pressure that has your body jerking against his, sheathing his cock snugly within your walls. He laughs at the cute yelp you make when his pelvis finally connects with yours, pressing a little harder against your clit to hear you squeal and watch you shut your eyes tightly to escape the pleasure. 

He devours you in every sense— drinking in the sight of your trembling form trapped beneath him, savoring the erotic mewls and desperate moans you make for him as he feasts on the feeling of your hot skin beneath his fingers and trapping his cock. He has to fight the urge to gather you up in his arms and press you against him, chest to chest, face preferably buried in your neck or hair or lips smothering yours so he can be close to you in every sense of the word, but you look too lovely splayed against the couch cushions for him to manhandle you any further. 

“Feel good?” he asks softly, bringing his free hand up to your face to fondly brush away the hair obstructing his view of his angel. He’s checking in on you, making sure he isn’t being too rough, making sure you can still feel all the love behind his teasing. 

“So good, Yuyu,” you pant. “Please move, please fuck me,” As always, your wish is his command, so he complies, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back in. Your moan is so obscene its practically pornographic, and coupled with the tight warmth of your walls sucking him in, Yunho has to throw his head back with a guttural groan to keep himself sane. You’re so fucking cute, calling him Yuyu with his cock buried within you, your pretty, teary eyes blinking up at him so sincerely as you ask him to fuck you. 

He’ll be damned if he doesn’t give his angel the world on a silver platter, so if it’s a good fuck you want it’s a good fuck you’ll get. With every thrust, you let out a breathy moan or a lascivious “please.” If he angles himself just right, you punch out a sweet keen of that nickname that he would find gut-wrenchingly cute under any other circumstances— but with your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, brows drawn up and arms splayed limply above your head as you’re left helpless to the pleasure he fucks into you, Yunho would have to be some kind of deity not to lose his mind. For how pliant and weak he makes you, you return it twofold, leaving him powerless before your charm. 

You bring an arm down to your stomach, hand finding one of his to intertwine your fingers as he fucks you deep and calculated, thrusts perfectly orchestrated to have you falling apart on his cock. “Feels so good, Yuyu, I love you so much,” you whimper as your fingers slot into the gaps between his, and Yunho has to grip your hip with all the strength he has to stop himself from filling you up with his cum then and there. 

“I love you too, angel,” he praises, fighting to keep his voice level. “Always so fucking good for me,” 

Your moans begin to rise in pitch, broken little gasps and desperate whimpers of “Yuyu, just like that, please don’t stop,” that come to a peak as your back arches into a pretty crescent, hips bucking madly against his as you fall apart on his cock, cumming with a satisfied sob of his name. 

Yunho has many hobbies, some more productive than others, but his absolute favorite is watching you cum, treasuring the pretty expressions you make only for him and the debauched sounds he can pull out of you. It was good, he can tell from the way you’re panting and blinking slowly like you’re still coming down, but he doesn’t let up because you aren’t crying yet and he promised he would have you falling apart on him so good that you wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. 

You’re so cute, eyes widening in surprise as he fucks you through your orgasm. Yunho isn’t sure if he wants to show the whole world how his angel is the loveliest there could ever be, or if he wants to keep you all to himself, so sweet, all fucked out and pliant for him. 

That possessive beast you conjured in him always seems to win, though, and he shifts so he’s looming over you even more dangerously now, broad shoulders filling your view with nothing but Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. You’d never have it any other way though, mewling at the overstimulation, squirming beneath him and tugging uselessly at his shirt as he fucks you relentlessly. 

“Can you t-take this off, at least?” you whimper, and he heeds your request with a breathy chuckle, his pace inside you never faltering as he tears his hands away from your hips to pull his shirt off. He feels your walls flutter desperately around his cock at his exposed torso, pulling a more throaty laugh from his chest. 

“What a pervert,” he teases, licking his unfairly pretty bow-shaped lips as his palms find your hips once more. 

“Y-You’re such a hypocrite,” you punch out between soft little whines, an indignant squeak preceding your words. 

“Mmm, never said I wasn’t a pervert, my love,” Yunho grins, pinching your hip and grinning wider at the way you squirm. “I’m a proud pervert when it comes to you, but you’re just as bad, aren’t you, angel?”

You want to retort, cheeks warm with humiliation, but you can’t form the words or the thought when Yunho’s penetrating you so perfectly. You’re only able to manage a feeble moan, which draws another mean-spirited laugh from Yunho and the rewarding pressure of his thumb against your clit once more. He finally stops teasing you with his words only for his mouth to latch onto one of your nipples, the hand that’s not busy at your clit making its way up to your other nipple to toy with it until you’re jerking against his body, helpless to his desires as his chest secures you against the cushions. 

Yunho has the gall to laugh against your skin when he bites the pillowy flesh around your nipple, resulting in a cute yelp from you that has him hardening impossibly further within you. The assault on all your sweet spots has you clenching uselessly around him, walls hugging him so tight he can’t tell if you’re trying to push him out or suck him in deeper, if that was even possible. Your thighs are twitching uncontrollably around his hips, fingers scrabbling against his back, seeking purchase in the soft skin and hard muscles contracting under your fingertips from how powerfully he’s thrusting into you. 

You’re almost there, he can tell from the litany of pitiful whines and maddeningly sexy pleas of his name spilling from your lips, but he needs to give you just a little more to have you coming undone for him the way he wants, to give you pleasure so good it leaves you floating for the rest of the evening; so he painstakingly pulls his hand away from your (now swollen from his attention) nipple to press his palm flat against your stomach, applying just the right amount of force to have you gasping and digging your nails into his skin. It hurts so good, his eyes roll back into his head, but he has to keep himself under control at least until he draws that orgasm from you that he knows you’re craving. 

Your eyes find his, and those unshed tears that have been driving him crazy finally fall past your lashes, spilling down your cheeks as you moan his name. You’re so perfect, in every sense of the word, squirting all over his cock as he fills you up. “That’s it, my love,” he praises you, voice deep and strained as he cums for you, “So good for me,” 

“I love you, Yuyu,” you mumble as he pulls out, slowly and cautiously because he knows you’re probably sensitive from all his teasing from earlier. The painstakingly slow drag of his cock against your walls has you twitching against his hips, though— you can feel every ridge and every vein this way and you’re starting to think that Yunho probably had a point when he called you a pervert earlier. If you are a pervert, it’s only for him. 

“I love you too, angel,” he says sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your thighs twitch as he soothingly cleans them with a warm, damp towel, carefully brushing your hair away from your face and rubbing comforting circles into your hip with his free hand. “It was okay, baby?” he asks, movements faltering slightly as he looks up at you from between your thighs with those sparkling puppy-like eyes that got you into this predicament in the first place. 

“It was perfect, Yun,” you say sincerely. “You felt so good that I couldn’t really… control myself,” you mumble, trailing off out of embarrassment. You have to avert your eyes for your own sanity when that puppy face splits into a teasing grin, his canines back on display. 

“Hmm, I can tell,” he chuckles, leaning up towards your face to warmly kiss away the few tears still adorning your cheeks. 

“Yunho,” you whine, indignant. “You asked me just to tease,” 

“Nooooo, baby,” he laughs. “It’s not my fault you’re so cute when you get like this,” 

You can’t really retort, not when he’s giggling like that, what with his pretty smile and soft cheeks. 

“If my angel has any other dirty little secrets to share, I think we could have a lot of fun with it, don’t you?” he lilts, taunting you by sliding his long fingers through your hair to rest firmly at your scalp. Not tugging, not yet, but the possibility lingers, kicking up your heartbeat again. 

“You’re the one hiding all these kinky secrets,” you counter, pouting. “I know you took that pair of lacy panties I asked you about the other week, you pervert, so who’s the real false angel?” 

Yunho just laughs, again, a throaty chuckle rumbling in his chest that would have your thighs clenching to alleviate the jolt of arousal shocking your core if he wasn’t settled between your legs. “You have a point, love,” he acquiesces, and shoots you a wink that already has you needy for him to draw yet another orgasm from you. You’ll save this information for next time, though— you have a lifetime to explore Yunho and a lifetime to fall deeper in love with every new inch he reveals. 

[purinjoong]

[00:28] stoner!yunho (s)

this is actually my first fic ever on this account and i haven’t really kept up with writing since like 2019??? lol… here goes nothing! i did not fully proof read this so if there are any errors pls let me know 😭 also, i feel like this goes without saying but obviously i know weed is NOT legal in south korea, but this is a work of fiction and i like having fun. i am 100% projecting. yep! anyways,

warnings are underneath the cut!

MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!

remember, tumblr’s algorithm works off of reblogs. i love and appreciate likes but please reblog my work as well if you like it ♡ much love!

warnings: reader has female anatomy and is called gendered terms associated primarily with females, !!!usage of marijuana!!!, dom!yunho, some light stoner terms, reader tells yunho to stop but doesnt mean it, size kink, use of nicknames/pet names/titles (baby girl, tiny, angel, doll, good girl, yuyu, sir), obv strong language, unprotected sex (please always stay safe during sex!), creampie, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (f receiving), degradation, humiliation. if i forgot any i will add!

word count: idk i edited it in app and lost track (jk update its 3,479!

your friend group was definitely a crazy one, hosting escapades you could never imagine by yourself, making so many memories. all of your firsts were with your friends by your side. hell, you would be with your friends every single second of every day if you could, but today when yunho came home talking about how he had someone in the group find some really good weed, you knew you had to try it alone with him. even though you knew you’d definitely hear from wooyoung about it later. yunho told you that he was sworn to that it would create one of the best highs you had ever faced.

god, you were hoping that his friend was right. you knew how you were when you smoked, you were excited. of course, the two of you could not waste such an opportunity, right?

your head is filled with warmth as your body started feeling floaty, the harsh coughing from the first hit of this third blunt really helping the feeling set in. the drug began to hit you even harder at this point, turning your entire world into a dizzy, yet comfortable daze. you look over at yunho, eyes half lidded from the effects of the bud, bright with the reflection of the led lights that outlined the corners of your bedroom walls.

you took a second to absorb every single detail of his appearance, his hoodie somehow big on him, making you wonder how you’d look wearing it, remembering how big he is already. he was wearing sweatpants, the string on it tightened just enough to hold them loosely around his hips. the weed had the gears in your mind grinding even harder than usual, he looked fucking amazing.

you don’t know if it was the overwhelming urge to be close to him, or what got into you, but before you knew it, your leg was thrown over his lap, and you were there, straddling him on the sofa in the bedroom. taken back by this a bit, yunho breathlessly laughs before cocking a brow at you, head lolling back lazily along the back of the couch from laughing. you take your almost completely cashed blunt, placing it in the ashtray beside the two of you, immediately bringing light kisses to the part of his neck thats barely exposed by the oversized hoodie. fuck, he was so perfect.

that’s all it took, his body began to react what seemed almost instantaneously, his hips subconsciously pressing against you, starting the process of getting hard, as he grabbed your waist for leverage.

“ooh what’s this, pretty girl,” he cooed out, pushing your hair back out of your face, exposing all of your features even more to him. you were so pretty, “some weed got your little pussy wet?”

“no, you did,” you barely managed, the breath barely leaving your lungs. he smirked at you before tapping your side, automatically remembering that’s his sign for wanting you to raise your arms to sneak off your shirt.

“well, i’d better take care of this little problem i created, don’t you think doll?” with large yet gentle hands, he eased you off his lap on the sofa to take you to the opposite side of the room to his bed.

the room was coated in a haze of smoke as the bed creaked ever so quietly underneath the weight of you two. the harsh smell of this particular leaf clung to your senses but you were used to it, the smell didn’t bother you as much as you thought. even if you weren’t used to it, you weren’t sure how much you could even pay attention to the smell of anything when your tall boyfriend was pulling off his sweatpants to reveal his semi-hardened cock. your mind was full, the thoughts mixing in your head, enough to make you fucking dizzy. the effects of what you smoked had long since taken over, you were feeling so much.

“you wanted to start this, so go ahead.” he said, moving back onto the bed with you and then laying down against the bed, head on the pillows, gesturing down with his chin.

you knew better than to act stupid. your whole body shuddered when you looked up at him and saw him wearing the cockiest smirk you swear you had ever seen in your life. he was gonna be the death of you.

you crawled on top of him, taking the same position you had on the bedroom sofa, but this time you took his thick cock in your hand, positioning the tip of him at your entrance.

“wait, angel” he interjected, grabbing your wrist to make you release his cock. your swear your need was about to boil over any second now, mind burning with the thought of how close he was to filling your needy hole up.

“do you think you can take me like this?” he asked, looking at how big his cock looked next to your cunt. you stared back at him, blinking blearily, you were overtaken with confusion and the empty feeling in your chest having the pleasure of his cock that was so tantalizingly close ripped away from you, so hungry for his cock buried in you.

“just a couple more things, doll,” yunho adjusted in his spot, putting pillows underneath the back of his head, so he was laying up a bit more. he brought one large hand to your waist to stabilize you so you stayed still on your knees above him while his other hand slid between your thighs, spreading your folds to run his finger down to find your wet entrance. when he felt the arousal seeping from you just by gliding his fingers through your slit, he hummed softly, sinking two digits inside you which drew a pathetic cry from you.

his fingers were coated in your wetness as he pulled them out, but he still took a moment to tease you by brushing the pads of his fingers along your clit and dip his fingers in just an inch or so a few times until he was satisfied enough with how worked up you were. it wasn’t until yunho retrieved it that you realized he had his unfinished blunt tucked behind his ear, licking off his fingers coated with your juices before grabbing the lighter on the nightstand and lighting it, unexpectedly blowing all the smoke right into your face, making your eyes burn with tears. if they were from the smoke, or from need, that you weren’t too sure of.

“alright pretty baby, you should sink down for me,” he ashed his blunt before looking back at you, cocking an eyebrow at you, making you shiver.

his eyes were on your shaky ones as you eagerly positioned him at your entrance. the moan you let out as every single inch of thick cock grazed against against your walls menacingly slow was absolutely sinful. the neediness in your moan made yunho’s cock twitch inside you as you slowly worked him deeper into your wet cunt.

“now that’s a good girl, huh?,” yunho groaned out, one arm beneath his head on the pillow and the other gripping your waist. between his lips was the blunt, smoke going up in a helix from the burning tip and the corner of his mouth as he panted, feeling your tight walls squeeze him, filling up your little stretched out cunt.

your body was so sensitive to every touch, every single feeling running through your body. you could feel yunho’s cock everywhere. it was so overwhelming. all you could think about was how delicious it felt that his cock was ramming into that one particular spot that made you feel like you were going to pass out right there on his dick splitting you open.

your whole body was so sensitive from the pot, so much so that you found yourself on the edge quickly. your body began to tremble harder than you have before and you gasped out to your boyfriend, hands reaching to bring him closer,

“fuck. i’m gonna cum.” yunho laughs, feeling your cunt clench around his cock, “already, huh?” he mocks you, taking another hit while he watches your trembling fingers leave the grip on his shirt to find your swollen clit to hurl yourself into your crashing orgasm. your hips spasmed uncontrollably and your cunt was squeezing him as you came all around his thick cock, but you continued to ride him, abandoning your clit in favor of going back to grabbing onto his hoodie for leverage.

“fuck, tiny, you’re so good,” he grunted, rutting his cock up into you deeper. “yuyu, y-your c-cock is… s-so g-good,” you barely managed to choke out, bottoming out and grinding your clit against the base of his cock as you felt another orgasm already building in your tummy.

“gonna cum again?” he laughed this time, making your cheeks sting with humilation, but if anything this fueled you working yourself over the edge for him until you were trembling on top of his cock once more.

“fuck!” you yelped out, focusing on your bouncing to aim his cock to brush against the spot that feels the best. you didn’t even give yourself a break, eager to find your next release, eager to make him cum. you just wanted to be so good for him, all you wanted him was for him to fill you up with his cum.

yunho was basically panting, skin glowing shiny under the blue led lights in the room as a light coat of sweat coated his forehead, and he couldn’t deny that you looked so gorgeous right now. he adored when you were so insatiable to the point where you lost your mind on his cock, using him as your toy to make yourself cum. he was more than happy to sit there and let you take what your body needed.

and you, you were a sight for sore eyes. sweat beading over your body with your head thrown back, as you ground down on him with your little cunt filled with his long cock. you had already cum so much already, and you weren’t sure how much or what time it even was. time was a blur at this point, and it was the last thing you were gonna think about. the creases of your thighs, as well as his were both covered in your cum, creating sloppy, loud wet noises every time your skin met.

you were positive you had stained the bed beneath the two of you now, there was no way it hadn’t. it was filthy and you both fucking loved it.

“fuck, yunho!” you pathetically wailed, holding yourself down as deep as possible once you bottomed out, reaching down with a desperate hand to brush against your swollen clit gently enough to initiate the most toe-curling orgasm out of yourself that you think you have ever experienced. yunho groaned, pulling the blunt out of his mouth to blow a lungful of smoke back into your face as you gasped for air from cumming so hard.

“god, i can fucking feel you cum like that doll,” he groaned, tucking the rillo back in his mouth in to grab onto your tits, relentlessly pinching your hardened nipple between his fingers.

“jesus fucking christ,” you groaned, placing your hands behind you on his thighs, using him for leverage as you began to bounce onto him again. you had no idea how the burn of your thighs wasn’t bothering you as much as it should’ve been, but you just equated it to the thc flowing through your system. “you feel so fucking good, yuyu, fuck!”

“what was that?” something shifted in him, watching you through dark and heavy eyes as you lost yourself on his cock. his cock twitched in your cunt so hard, “your tiny cunt’s so fucking sensitive, couldn’t stop cumming even if you wanted to, huh?”

“fuck. yuyu, i’m gonna cum.” the nickname took his breath away, he loved how pathetic and small you looked while hungrily bouncing on his cock, calling him such a cute nickname. he could never admit it but the nickname made him fall apart, but he wasn’t going to admit that. yunho hisses, feeling your cunt clench around his cock that he swears has never been this hard before.

your head went blank, everything was subconscious at this point, digging your nails into the skin of his thighs, grinding your clit against the hilt every time his cock filled you to the brim.

yunho scowled, seemingly unsatisfied that you weren’t answering him. he sat up slightly, tangling a hand into your hair and gripping a fistful tightly to force you to stop bouncing on him, making your eyes meet his worriedly.

your pupils were blown, eyes shining with tears of need. your body was trembling above him as a sign that you were desperately close to another orgasm, and he stole that from you. this was the first time he had really moved since you got onto the bed, and the sight of him taking another long, thick hit, tapping off the ash off the side of the bed carelessly, and then blowing the smoke right into your face with a blank expression had you clenching pathetically around him.

“hmm, i asked you a question, angel,” he cooed, speech a little mumbled as he held the blunt between his lips again to free up both of his hands. wrapping both hands around your waist to shove you onto his cock the deepest it could possibly reach.

“i, i didn’t hear what you asked…” you whimpered, his cock making contact with your cervix from the angle he was sitting at now.

“i know that. poor thing,” he loosened his hold on your hair to move to cup your face almost a confusing amount of gentle, “so fucked out on my cock you can’t even think? is that what’s happening here?”

“y-yes sir,” you whimpered, the attempt to grind down against him unnoticed failed as your clit throbbed so painfully from the neglect.

“sir, huh? cute. sir fucked you dumb?” he smirked, reaching up and taking away the blunt completely now, putting it fully in the ashtray that was at the nightstand.

“y-yes,” it was a small reply, not able to get anything out that was more than that. you just wanted to cum for him again.

“my stupid little baby girl,” he chuckled, his lips against yours. you immediately responded, the pot aftertaste lingering in his mouth. you wrapped your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss as you began to bounce on him again.

“fuck,” you cried, feeling close as you ground your clit against his pelvic bone every time you sunk down onto him. yunho lowered himself back down against the pillows again, but this time, he wasn’t letting you take control in any sort of way this time. he started to fuck up into your dripping cunt instead of leaving the work to you completely.

“rub that clit tiny, cum on my cock again,” he panted out, grabbing your free hand, which had been busy playing with your nipples, to press your fingers against flush your clit. “fuck that’s it,” he praised when he felt your pussy flutter around him, watching you gently circle the bud as you rode him to your high.

the sight of you just using his body for your own pleasure while feeling your warm cunt wrapped around his throbbing cock was beginning to become too much, he could feel the heat of his own orgasm beginning to sneak up on him. the amount of self control he’s able to show after all this time was still astounding to you, and you just wanted to break that and let him paint your insides with his cum.

“fuck, fuck, i’m cumming again,” you got out in between broken words and gasps for air, thighs trembling as your high washed over you so hard it almost hurt. this time, the force from the orgasm was so intense you were unable to hold yourself up and you leaned down to rest your face against his chest as you panted and trembled through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

everything happened way too fast, and suddenly you found yourself on your back with yunho towering above you. his cock slipped out of you in the process, making your hole clench pathetically when you realized you weren’t full anymore.

“what are you doing…” you whined, arching your hips in a lazy attempt to get him back inside you.

“im gonna eat you out,” he mumbled, instantly lowering on the bed until his head was between your thighs. “oh fuck, you’re soaking,” he used his thumbs to spread your folds apart, exposing your entrance and swollen clit to the chilly air in the room. “how many times have you cum?”

“i don’t remember,” you muttered almost lifelessly. it felt so nice to be lying on your back again and giving your legs a break. you were so gone at this point, how could you remember?

“what a slut,” he growled, dragging the flat of his tongue against the tip of your clit, before shoving his tongue into your hole, coating his tongue in your delicious juices. your hands shuffling to yank at his hair when he used the tip of his tongue to graze your clit gently.

“holy fuck, that feels so good,” you whined out, arching your hips to grind against his tongue, making him chuckle.

it was unfair, how fucking good yunho’s cock felt in you, and how he had a sinfully good mouth. the feeling of his tongue licking over your swollen bud and you remembering how good his cock felt filling you up just minutes ago had you you cumming so much, spiraling into another screaming orgasm. this time, however, as your eyes rolled back and you let out a shriek of his nickname that he loved so much, you felt yourself utterly gush against his tongue.

“fuuuck,” yunho growled, sitting back on his heels before immediately sliding into your embarrassingly wet cunt without a second thought. the noises that came when he sunk into you would have embarrassed you if you not for the weed and the adrenaline pumping through your system.

“c-can’t anymore, yuyu, please stop,” you whined, but made no attempts to halt him as he began pounding into your sopping wet cunt.

“fuck. i. got. you. babygirl,” he whispered through grunts, attempting to give your lips little pecks although his deep and rough thrusts offset them a bit. “can you cum once more for me?” he panted out, eyes scanning over your fucked out, dumb expression.

“if you cum in me,” you compromised, drawing a dark change in his eyes from him as he nodded.

“anything you want, tiny,” the two of you fell into relative silence aside from your whines and moans mixing with his grunts and the wet sound of his cock fucking so deeply your cunt. he licked his pretty fingers before reaching down to spread your lips open and found your swollen clit, brushing against your bud softly as he knew how sensitive it would be and it felt like someone was shooting electricity down your nerves.

he continued to fuck you until you reached your last high, thighs clamping and trembling around his waist and your hand ripping his away from your throbbing clit. with a handful of powerful, deep thrusts, ropes of his thick cum were filling you up, and a long drawn-out groan came from his sweet lips.

the both of you were still for a minute, just sharing a moment to take a few deep breaths as his cock softened inside you before he pulled out, making you gasp from the realization of how spent your hole was. his cum leaked out of you, dripping down onto his blue comforter. he sighed, before catching it with his fingers. he brought his wet and soiled fingers to your lips, and you eagerly took them into your mouth with a small whimper; the bitter flavor of his cum spreading over your tongue.

watching yunho sink his exhausted body down to force your thighs apart wasn’t an uncommon occurrence when the two of you were done. you were tired but you sighed, letting your eyes gently shut as his tongue slid between your folds to catch the mixture of both of your cum thats leaking out of you profusely at this rate, while being gentle enough to not even brush against your clit anymore tonight.

“i love you,” yunho pets your head, fingers combing gently through your hair, “so good for me.”

“i love you, yuyu,” you hum. you don’t think you’re ever smoking with any of your friends present ever again.

[purinjoong]

brothers best friend pt 2 w/ jeong yunho

part 1

so i forgot to pause my queue and you’re getting this a day early… whoops

yunho looks so massive towering above you like that

there’s an unfamiliar look on his face, cheeks flushed, lips parted, nostrils flared, and you can’t help but feel a little nervous under his watchful gaze

maybe he’s angry, but you can’t think of anything you’d done to upset him

hell, you’d fallen asleep pretty much as soon as he told you to! its like you could’ve—

oh fuck… the dream

you sit up as quick as humanly possible, any semblance of sleepiness slipping away as you realise exactly why he’s looking at you like that

like you’ve just committed the greatest crime known to man

you can’t look at him, embarrassment and guilt flowing through you like blood

“yun, i—” he cuts you off with a shush

it confuses you for just a second or two; surely he’d give you the chance to explain your self right?

it’s hardly like you deserve to have that chance, perverted little slut

but still, yunho is a nice enough guy; he’ll let you try and wriggle your way out of it… won’t he?

“yunho, i can ex—” again, you’re cut off with a sharp shush

you whimper in response as the tears that begin to gather along your lash line turn his silhouette blurry

“i don’t need an explanation from you,” he speaks softly, “i don’t want one, either. i don’t think it would change anything, do you?”

his face is still set in stone, eyes steely as they stare you down

it only makes you feel even more pathetic, like a child being scolded for making a mess

you wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how he saw you; nothing more than his friends kid sister making a mess of things again

you’re always making a mess of things…

your eyes begin to burn with tears

“why are you getting upset, sweetheart?” yunho asks from above you, voice stern and commanding and nothing like the teasing tone he usually uses with you

“it’s embarrassing,” you sniffle, trying your hardest to stop your voice from wavering under the influence of your tears, “i’m sorry.”

he hums, nodding slightly as though he’s seriously mulling over your apology

as if he’s actually considering accepting it…

its cruel, making you wait for your judgement as if he’s not going to end up kicking you out at the end of it all

maybe you were wrong about him being a kind man…

“why is it embarrassing?” he hums, and your heart sinks just a little further

great; he’s going to humiliate you before kicking you out

your eyes meet his, begging for just a little mercy

he doesn’t seem to waver, eyes still icy and face still wearing that unreadable expression

“yunho,” you whisper, mentally preparing yourself to beg for forgiveness

he shakes his head, a hum of disapproval leaving his lips, “tell me, honey; why are you embarrassed?”

and just like that the dam breaks, your chin wobbling as a long keen leaves the back of your throat

the first tear rolls down your cheek, swiftly followed by a second

yunho catches them with his thumbs

“tell me…”

you suck in a shaky breath, forcing it out through your pursed lips

it doesn’t really help to soothe you like you thought it would…

“i had a wet dream about you,” your voice is so timid and small… you’re pathetic

“yes, you did,” yunho agrees, “but i hardly think that’s a good reason for all this fuss, hm?”

you can’t quite make out the tone of his voice

it almost sounds affectionate under that thick layer of condescension that only ever comes out when he’s talking to you

“after all, you didn’t see me crying when i was thinking all those dirty thoughts about you crawling into my bed…”

what?

your jaw hangs slack as you let his words soak in

he has to be teasing you, right?

“your pretty pussy was showing through your shorts, baby, but you didn’t even realise, hm?”

he takes your chin in his hand, forcefully snapping your mouth shut

“you were clenching around nothing,” his pink tongue swipes over his bottom lip, “practically begging for me to fill you up and you didn’t even realise.”

you squirm, everything he does working against you and your barely intact sanity

his words that he says so nonchalantly as if you’re not utterly filthy

his hand that remains firmly on your chin, his thumb dancing back and forth along your jawline

that damned tongue that he can’t seem to keep inside of his mouth for more than a second

you can’t help it when you whimper; after all, he’s the only one to blame

“yuyu,” you sound as pathetic as you feel, but you don’t have the brain power to feel humiliated, “please do something…”

he smiles down at you

“do something?” he asks, “like what, honey? you’re going to have to be more specific if you want yuyu to do what you want.”

the sound of him teasing you so effortlessly goes straight to your cunt, and you clench your thighs around nothing

it doesn’t help ease the ache between them at all

in fact all it does is smear your wetness over your thighs, leaving you with a sticky, uncomfortable mess

you desperately need something more; some friction to ease that ache in your clit and something inside of you to fill up your empty hole

and there’s yunho, your brothers best friend, standing above you looking like a fucking god

that’s all you need to push you over the edge

“yunho, please fuck me,” you whine, bringing a hand up to rest upon his wrist

your fingers wrap around it, tugging softly until his grip slips from your jaw

you drag it down, heading lower and lower until his hand catches on the duvet that still rests over your lower half

and then you stop, passing the proverbial ball to him; it’s in his court now and whatever happens next is up to him

whether he fucks you or not… it’s his choice

but you have no time to worry about what might not come to pass when he grabs the covers and tosses them to the side

his eyes hone in on those fucking shorts, and he swears he can feel his cock jump in his shorts

fucking hell, they’re practically see through with just how wet you are

he can see everything and what a delight that is

your pretty little pussy, wet and waiting for him to ruin it with his fingers, his cock, him cum

he needs so badly to see the real thing

“these damn shorts, baby,” he groans as he hooks his fingers over the waist band and tugs, “i might just have to keep them, if that’s okay with you?”

his words make your pussy clench, a sight that has him humming in appreciation

“i take that as a yes?” he tugs them down over your thighs, wasting no time in stripping your bottom half bare and tucking your shorts in the pocket of his pants.

with your glistening hole now exposed to him, he wastes no time in getting on his knees at the bottom of the bed

at first he just watches it, studying it as intensely as a college student studies their textbook the night before a final

you’re about to say something, to beg some more, when he reaches out a hand and slides a finger through your sopping folds

you gasp as he brushes it gently against you clit before pulling it away entirely, slipping it between his lips without so much as a second of hesitation

his eyes flutter closed and his cheeks hollow

the moan he lets out is nothing short of pornographic; you find yourself in awe of the show he’s putting on for you

“taste so good, honey,” he purrs as he tugs his finger free, “i’d eat you up forever, if you let me…”

he pauses, letting his eyes flicker up to meet yours

“will you let me?”

you nod, too dazed to say anything

“good girl…”

he wastes no time in laying down and throwing your legs over his shoulders

his giant hands find your thighs, gently caressing your smooth skin under the calloused tips of his fingers

they squeeze, kneading your flesh as he lowers his face to your aching core

“ready?” he hums, the word propelling a cool blast of air against your clit

you squirm and nod, but he shakes his head

“i really need your words this time, baby,” he says, “i’ve been lenient so far but i won’t do anything without your explicit permission; are you ready?”

“y-yes, yun…”

and just like that, he presses a soft kiss to your clit, the tip of his tongue just barely grazing it before he pulls away

it draws a whine through your gritted teeth

yunho chuckles before going back in to lick a stripe over your dripping hole

an obscene slurping sound echoing around the room as his tongue collects as much of your juices as he can before going back for more

he licks and prods are your hole, seeming to tease it until it leaks some more, all which his nose bumps gorgeously up against your clit

you hands fly to his hair, holding him against you in fear of him leaving you high and dry

he’s making you feel so good, the last thing you want is for this to stop

he just smiles against you as he feels the tug of your fingers in his locks, scraping his teeth against you in a way that has your body going limp

it’s even worse when he brushes them against your sensitive bud

you don’t quite register the sound your own mouth makes, too lost in the throws of pleasure to fully comprehend anything other than yunho

“so sweet, honey,” he grunts before he takes you clit between his lips

he suckles on it, hollowing his cheeks out as he pulses the pressure

he alternates between hard and soft sucks

it’s enough to make that knot in your stomach tighten

you’re getting close

“yuyu,” you cry as you let your hips buck into his mouth

it doesn’t phase him at all, so you carry on seeking your high

and when yunho sharpens his tongue to a point, letting you grind against the very top of it, that’s when you come undone

that’s when the knot snaps and your world turns white for just a second

fucking hell, yunho knows how to eat pussy…

he continues his ministrations for just a moment or two, letting you get it all out of your system before he pulls away and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand

“how was that, pretty girl?” he hums, “think you can take my cock next?”

[purinjoong]

the butler w/ addams!matz

good… so, so good.

your eyes are squeezed shut, teeth gripping onto your bottom lip for dear life. with every thrust of seonghwa’s hips, it gets harder and harder for you to stay silent, but you can’t let a moan slip free. not when you have hongjoong behind you reminding you that your mutt is still asleep… you wouldn’t want to wake him up so early, right?

in reality, you know that hongjoong doesn’t care. you know it’s just one more thing for the two of them to have control over, telling you how loud or quiet you’re allowed to be. normally, they like to head you squeal, but this morning it seems they want to watch you struggle. they want to see your face contort as you desperately attempt to keep your squeaks inside. they want to tease you as you look up at them with watery eyes. they just want to be mean.

seonghwa slips a finger through the ring of your collar, tugging on it a little in a way that normally has you whimpering for them. today, you just squeeze your eyes shut and let your laboured breathing echo through the room. the moan that’s trying to bubble up from your throat quickly gets shut down. you’re a good girl, you remind yourself; good girls follow instructions.

“that’s it,” hums at his normal volume, blatantly disregarding his own rules. it’s as if he doesn’t care about the werewolf supposedly sleeping a few rooms over. as if he already knows that yeosang is probably perched right outside their door, waiting for the second the bed stops squeaking so he can come in and ‘guard’ you whilst you’re still lost in the mist of post-orgasm bliss. “keep those little sounds to yourself, hm? it’s still too early for you to be as loud as you usually are.”

you squirm in protest, but with seonghwa’s dick deep inside of you, you only make it more difficult for yourself. his solid member prods a against your walls in a way that has you melting. a bolt of pleasure shoots up your spine and your jaw drops, a strangled gargle coming out of you as you’re too late to quell the sound all together. you half expect a a quick spank to your thigh, or some sort of foul-mouthed reprimand, but hongjoong just gives you a low chuckle as he kisses your temple.

you’re grateful for the softness; you wouldn’t have been able to stop the sounds if they were to turn up the roughness.

“such a brat…” he grins against your skin as his hand finds purchase on your stomach, slowly making its way south.

“not a brat,” you rebut. your voice is strained from barely being able to hold back the moan that wants to fall from you as hongjoong’s fingers find your clit. you suck in a harsh breath as he rubs teasingly slow circles against you. the tension in your stomach is building like an elastic band, tugging at your sanity as it gets closer and closer to snapping. with the determined finger on your bud and the increasingly sloppy thrusts into your hole, it’s only a matter of time.

but seonghwa reaches his high first, muttering a quick apology before burying himself deep within your walls and letting his cum flow into you. you clench around him, just the way you know he likes you to. it pulls a long, guttural moan from his throat as you milk him dry. you can’t help but internally scoff at the knowledge that he’s allowed to make as much noise as he wants and yet you’re a brat if you let so much as a peep slip. you pout your lips in dismay, a sarcastic comment on the tip of your tongue, but then hongjoong kisses you and everything melts into the abyss of pleasure. suddenly you don’t care about the hypocrisy of your mommy and daddy’s rules; you just care about them.

and that’s when you cum too; with seonghwa’s softening dick plugging your cum-filled hole, hongjoong’s lips on yours and his finger on your clit, it’s hard to hold it in. your stomach muscles tense as your spine lifts from the mattress in a perfect arc. neither of them bother to pin you back down, simply enjoying how your pleasure feels to them. the way your lips part slightly against hongjoong’s as you let out another tiny sound into his awaiting maw, the way you grind into seonghwa’s oversensitive cock as he tries to keep some of his own sounds at bay. it all feels so perfect…

and then it’s over.

you chest heaves as hongjoong slows his digits to a stop before pulling his hand away to rest on your thigh. seonghwa pulls out too, a soft grunt echoing through the room as he topples to the side of you and tugs you into his chest. you feel the way his cum oozes from your twitching hole so you clench, desperate to keep as much of it inside as possible. you’re not sure why; it just feels right.

hongjoong shuffles in closer until you’re pressed between the two of them, a mound of sticky bodies, each of you indistinguishable from the next. it’s warm and sweaty and honestly a little gross feeling, but you find yourself too tired to care. you close your eyes, tipping your head against seonghwa’s chest. his hand meets the back of your head, fingers delving into your hair and tangling themselves within your locks. you focus on that soft tugging as the door to the bedroom unlatches and a pair of footsteps make their way to the bed.

“morning, yeosang,” hongjoong mumbles as the werewolf crawls onto the foot of the bed and flops tiredly onto the pile of feet. it’s hardly the comfiest spot for him to lie, but he doesn’t care. as long as he gets to be close to you, he finds himself caring increasingly little about his own comfort. “i hope we didn’t wake you,” it’s hard to miss the teasing in his voice; you let your elbow ‘accidentally’ jab into his ribs.

“i was awake before the three of you even started,” the wolf hums as his tail flicks. it lands suspiciously close to your leaking pussy; you really hope he doesn’t mind getting seonghwa’s cum in his fur. “i started guarding at 7:30,” he says, although he really means that he started listening in on the fucking at that time, “and then there was a knock on the door at 7:50 so i went to investigate. it was just some guy claiming to be your new butler. i told him to wait in the living room but i’ll be surprised if he stayed; the sound of the bed squeaking is surprisingly loud down there. i think you’ve scarred him for life…”

“oh hell,” hongjoong pulls himself up into a sitting position, though his hand never leaves your thigh. you smile as he gives the flesh a gentle squeeze, “i forgot that he was supposed to arrive today,” with his other hand he wipes at his face frustratedly, “thank the devil we made our little dove keep the volume down; i’m not quite sure i want a complete stranger hearing all your pretty sounds.”

you can’t help but blush at his words, the idea of someone outside of the three of them hearing your moans setting something alight within you. something good, or something bad… you’re not quite sure know the answer to that just yet. although, the way your thighs involuntarily clench, trapping yeosang’s tail between them, seems to have you leaning in one direction. the wolf yelps a little, but it seems only you pick up on it. you release your grip on his tail and look at him in apology; all you get in response is a knowing smirk.

that annoying little mutt…

“we best go and greet the poor man,” seonghwa sighs, although the way he tightens his grip on you lets you know that he intents to let hongjoong do all of that. your daddy gets the message and lets his hand slip from your thigh. you whine, but he only huffs out a laugh as he stands up. before you can complain any more, he pats the mattress as an invitation. yeosang takes it, squirming his way up the bed until he’s flush to your back, just like hongjoong had been. you melt into his warmth.

“you can’t say ‘we’ and then refuse to move, cara mia,” he laughs as he picks up the silk bottoms he’d been wearing not too long ago. they slide over his thighs and sit low on his hips; you let out a contented sigh at the view, “but i suppose i don’t quite mind; so long as my loves are happy, i’d do whatever you asked of me.”

“does that include me?” yeosang purrs. hongjoong scoffs.

“don’t get ahead of yourself, mutt,” the door to the bedroom unlatches once more, “you’re lucky i’m not forcing you to give san the grand tour…”

[purinjoong]

PRETTY PINK

PAIRING — hongjoong x reader

GENRE — romance, smut, pwp, established relationship, boyfriend!hongjoong, softishdom!hongjoong, sub!reader, fem!reader, reader is so whiny cuz joong likes to tease :’))

WARNINGS — no plot just smut, unprotected sex//creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, edging, overstimulation, squirting, pet names (joongie, baby, sweet girl, pretty girl, little girl), praise with degradation, some dacryphilia, lots of teasing, sexual language, intentional lowercase and small font, intentional word abbreviations, uhhh this isn’t really proofread oopsie

WORD COUNT — 2.1k

SUMMARY — you pulled at his pink hair to kiss him again. you exhaled. “i love you too, joongie.” and you really did. even if he enjoyed teasing you just a bit too much.

you huffed and your lips puckered into a pout. you grabbed a handful of pink strands and tugged, hoping that maybe if you yanked just enough you’d finally get what you want. “joongie…”

there was a laugh. hot breath blew against your sensitive sex. you knew he wasn’t going to budge. “such a pouty baby,” hongjoong teased and if you weren’t so desperate to cum, you would’ve squeezed his head off with your thighs. you didn’t bother to lift your head to look, his tone was enough to tell you that he was enjoying this; enjoying your torture. “joongie, joongie, joongie. is that all you know how to say?”

he was mocking you. your face was hot in both embarrassment and frustration. you opened your mouth to speak but words died in your throat when he suckled your clit again. your eyes rolled, your hand that was holding his hair growing tighter. your orgasm was just within reach. you could taste it. your nerves were heightened and your clit throbbed pitifully. but your oh so sweet boyfriend had been denying you of it for some time now, leaving you frustrated and desperate. the need for release was growing borderline painful.

hongjoong laid between your legs comfortably, your knees thrown over his shoulders, your heels digging into his back. he pulled back from you, releasing your achey bud with a lewd pop!. your pitiful little mewl reached his ears and he smiled while his thumbs spread your lips apart. he watched your leaky hole closely, admiring how pretty and swollen it was for him. “such a pretty pussy. so cute and pink and messy.” he leaned in to kiss your clit before swiping his tongue through your folds. he hummed in delight as your slickness coated his tongue.

you lifted your head to peer down at him. through the pink fringe that covered his face you could see his eyes; they were on your pussy, and a serene expression rested on his features. he looked so peaceful, so calm. everything you were not. he was in no hurry it seemed while you were quickly losing patience. not that you had much to begin with. “joongie,” you breathed, “please, i need to cum. so bad it hurts.”

he casted his eyes upwards while his tongue swirled around your throbbing clit. “i know, pretty girl. i know.” you wiggled and squirmed and your heels dug into his back. “you’re just so cute when you’re all pouty. but you can trust me, right? my pretty girl will get to cum soon.”

you all but sobbed. you were so close, his tongue doing just enough to get you to the edge, but not enough to push you over it. a symphony of moans fell from your lips as he continued his sweet torture on your clit. you wanted to buck your hips, to grind into his face for more friction, but his hold kept you rooted to the mattress. he worked you up to the edge yet again, and just when you thought he was finally giving in, his tongue left your clit.

hongjoong kissed your clit again and chuckled at the way you sobbed. “my sweet girl’s so close. gonna make you cum, baby. make you feel so good.”

you whimpered, wiggling against his hold. “joongie, please, i can’t! need to cum. please!” your breathing was growing frantic, your eyes watering, and cunt clenching around nothing. pleas and sighs of his name resounded off your tongue until you sounded like a broken record, both of your hands tangling into his fluffy locks.

“you can, sweet girl,” hongjoong encouraged. he licked your clit. “just wait for me a little more.”

your head shook side to side. tears spilled down your cheeks. you were so desperate, so dumb to anything other than the raging need between your thighs. you were on the verge of exploding. he had worn you down to this whimpering mess, had broken you down into his little whiny girl that depended on him for release. you moaned while he licked and sucked, silently praying he wasn’t going to deprive you yet again.

“you’ve been so good for me, baby. come on, go ahead and cum for me.” hongjoong lifted your thighs and pressed them flat into the mattress, spreading you out perfectly for him. he feasted on you, lapping and sucking on your swollen bundle of nerves until he felt your legs shake in his hold.

with his permission you were catapulted off the edge. finally. your orgasm erupted within your body, flooding every vein and overwhelming every nerve. you shook from the force of it, nerves so heightened from the pent up desire that the sensation was almost too much to bear. just as you started to come down, you felt two fingers slip through your folds. your back arched off the mattress at the overstimulation. “oh, j-joong, fuck!”

hongjoong hummed in delight, removing his mouth from your sex to watch his fingers work in and out of your slippery hole. “didn’t that feel good, baby? you always cum so much harder after i toy with you a little bit first.”

his fingers were quick to find the sweet gummy spot nestled within you. “‘s too much!” he’d worked you up for so long before letting you cum. your nerves were fried; it was all so much.

“after all that whimpering and crying to cum, i’m just giving my sweet girl what she wants.” his voice was sickeningly sweet. his actions were a stark contrast, his fingers reaching in and brushing against your sweet spot repetitively and making your cunt make the most unholy squelching noises. “silly, whiny little girl. just lay back and take what i give you.”

his switch up could’ve given you whiplash. going from taking to giving. this was hongjoong, and fuck it all, you loved the way he worked your body. the way he so expertly controlled your pleasure, like he knew your own body better than you did. his fingers were precise and with your previous high still lingering, you weren’t going to last much longer. “joong! ‘m gonna cum! gonna cum!”

“oh yeah?” hongjoong smirked while he thumbed your clit, offering a few smooth circles before replacing it with his tongue. “cum for me again, baby.”

his tongue flicking your bundle of nerves while his fingers plunged in and out of you was a lethal combination that had you wanting to escape yet hoping he would never stop. you came hard, even harder than before, body shaking as the pleasure wracked your body from head to toe. he milked you so good, continuing what he was doing until you were pushing him off you. “o-oh, my god, joong. please, i can’t!”

hongjoong pulled his fingers out of you finally. he laughed when you sighed in relief before trailing kisses up your tummy. “what? too much for my pretty girl?” you nodded and whimpered and fuck you looked so adorable. how was he not supposed to make a mess of you when you looked like this? he paid attention to your pebbled nipples, sucking on them while his hands gripped the underside of your breasts. you were beyond sensitive, body jerking under his touch. he lifted himself onto his elbows to watch over you, pink hair messy from your hands and chin shiny with your slick. “look how messy you are. so cute.”

you huffed at his teasing tone. he looked a mess, too, though the sight of him in this state was enough to make desire reignite between your legs despite coming twice already. “please, joongie. stop teasing…”

hongjoong kissed your pouty lips, offering you a taste of yourself. “again, you’re so cute when you’re all pouty. i just can’t help but tease you.” he kissed your blushy cheeks before he found your lips again. this time they lingered, kissing you fully and deeply.

you moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself. your hands found his hair again and tugged to pull him in, deepening the kiss further. “you’re so annoying, you know that?”

your words lacked any weight. hongjoong rolled his eyes. “yeah, i’m so annoying even though i just made you cum twice.” his hips rolled as his your lips reconnected, grinding his neglected bulge into you. he swallowed up your pretty moan and released one of his own, cock throbbing with need for attention. “gonna make you cum a third time, too. around my cock.” a groan. “wanna feel you make a mess all over it, baby.”

“joong…” you whined. he was so damn hard, and it wasn’t until now that you thought about how much he was depriving himself this whole time. “i’m so sensitive, i —”

“you’re going to take it,” he huffed out while working his cock out from his sweats. once freed, he rubbed his cockhead against your slippery folds, mixing his precum with your juices. his tip was warm, red, and leaky. he pushed himself in, just a little, and it was enough to make him throb. “fucking take all of it.”

just the stretch from his tip alone was maddening. your poor little pussy was so sensitive. you mewled and cried as his cock toyed at your entrance. “oh my — fuck, joong!”

hongjoong slipped himself in inch by inch until he was fully settled in your snug cunt. you were wet and warm and tight; so perfectly his. you were made for his cock. “god,” he groaned. “‘m never gonna get over how fucking perfect your pussy feels. fuck.”

he was allowing you time to adjust, but you were so overstimulated just the fullness of him was enough to have you squirming and writhing. fresh tears welled in your eyes before spilling down your cheeks. too much, too much, too much. “i’m gonna, fuck, i’m, ahh!”

hongjoong chuckled at your stuttering, pride swelling in his chest as he watched the tears fall down your pretty face. his thumb rose to your cheek to swipe a stray tear away. “so pretty when you cry,” he kissed another tear just as it fell, “cry for me.” he pulled his hips back painfully slow before thrusting back in sharply. he repeated this again and again before he found a rhythm.

your eyes squeezed shut and even more tears fell. your hands clutched at his cotton candy pink hair. you needed to hold onto something. if you didn’t, you were certain you would’ve flown away from the force of his thrusts. your jaw was slack and mouth agape, silent moans escaping you uncontrollably.

your cunt was taking him in greedily, slick dripping out of you every time he sunk back in. the lewd squelching sounds filled the air, accompanied by the slaps of his hips colliding with yours. it was a nasty symphony. “your pussy is crying too, baby. crying from how good i’m fucking her.” he nibbled at your jawline, teething at the flesh until you whimpered.

his cockhead brushed against your g-spot and your tear filled eyes rolled backwards. you were positive you looked like a disaster, but you didn’t care. not when he was fucking you so good your toes curled. “shit. you feel so good, joongie. s’good!”

hongjoong watched your face. you were so pretty, all fucked out for him. “yeah? i’m makin my pretty girl feel good?” a hand snaked down your body towards where you were joined together. his thumb pressed to your clit and your reaction was immediate. he groaned at the way your walls squeezed him.

“oh god!” you were shaking. you felt like every nerve was on fire as he thumbed your clit at the same pace of his hips. he was drilling into you with practiced precision, hitting your gummy spot over and over and over.

“c-cum, baby, cum for me,” hongjoong encouraged, voice breathy as he fought back his own release. he didn’t let up, circling your clit with his thumb and fucking your tight cunt until you were screaming. “make a mess on my cock.”

you came with a rush, screams of his name filling the room while white hot pleasure overwhelmed your senses. you did as he said, making a mess of yourself all over him until the sheets were soaked in your release. his name fell from your lips uncontrollably.

“shit.” hongjoong, urged by your own release, fell apart above you, hips coming to a halt as he spilled himself inside you. he filled you up until a mix of his seed and your juices began to leak out of your cunt. he leaned down and kissed you as you both came down from your highs, sweaty bodies pressed together. your breaths mingled as your lips slotted together sloppily. your hands remained in his hair. “fuck, baby, i love you.”

you pulled at his pink hair to kiss him again. you exhaled. “i love you too, joongie.” and you really did. even if he enjoyed teasing you just a bit too much.

AUTHOR’S NOTES — idk. like i really don’t. just head full of pink joongie <3

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @hongthoven @jungkookieprincess @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @thesafecafe (if you’d like to be on my tag list, find the tag list form link on the pinned post on my blog!)

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[purinjoong]

Ugh, As If (Hongjoong x Reader)

Summary: Hongjoong is not someone you should be attracted to, especially considering everything that’s on your plate in your final semester at university. Unfortunately for you, he has some sound suggestions for helping you cure your insomnia…

Word Count: 11.13k

Genre/Warning: one-shot, punk!hongjoong x feminine!reader, enemies to lovers (kinda), smut (MDNI!!!), dom/sub dynamics but not super fleshed out, inexperienced!reader (never mentioned, but alluded), bondage, sensory deprivation, spanking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dacryphilia, biting, reader has insomnia, overuse of the word sweetheart, reader loves pink (it's me, I'm reader lol), implied aftercare, Jongho cameos

Author's Note: Released one day early bc I have midterms tomorrow lol. I actually have five midterms this week guys... five (!!!) I'm very exhausted and just want a tatted!hongjoong to take care of me, is that too much to ask for??? But in all seriousness, this took a ridiculously long time to write with classes and life, so I'd love for you guys to let me know what you think 🤎🤎🤎

🎧 playlist 🎧: mark: golden hour 🎸 harry styles: kiwi 🎸 5sos: easier (live from the vault) 🎸 aly & aj: potential breakup song 🎸 jooyoung: fountain 🎸 ateez: propoganda 🎸 woodz: love me harder

This is a work of fiction, and it is not meant to be a realistic representation of any real person mentioned in any way, shape, or form.

Your rapid footsteps come to an unexpected stop in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. People behind you mumble words of annoyances before walking around you. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you say, incredulously turned to who you thought was your friend. 

“You know I wouldn’t normally do this to you, right? Just this one time, please?” your friend begs. With her situationship still on mute, she looks at you with pleading eyes. Her eyes flicker down to her phone. He’d been on mute for just a beat too long, but when her eyes look up to your unusually angered ones, her attention is fully brought back to you.

“What the actual fuck, dude? You said we’d hang out tonight… without any distractions,” you look down at your outfit. The anger dissipates into sadness. You’d slipped on the loveliest pink sweater for the brutal January winds and even did your makeup.

It wasn’t typical of you to want to be on the streets of your college town, especially on a Friday night. There was an exam next week you had to study for, and it's neatly printed and stapled practice test was waiting to be completed on yet another sleepless night. But here you were, excited, dressed up, and ready to try something new. 

Down the street, a group of already drunk frat students are loudly stumbling out of a bar. With a sigh, you look at her phone. He hadn’t hung up on her yet. The distant setting sun reflected prettily against your sweater under your hefty coat, and the thermal leggings you’d worn under your matching pink skirt felt ridiculous now. Your hair was getting tousled in the cold wind. What a wasted outfit, you think. 

“Whatever, go have your fun, but just drop me back home first,” you tell her with another defeated sigh.

“What! Come on babes, I’ve already paid the fees for the class! At least one of us should go,” she whines with tugs at your arm. You could hear the desperation in her voice. He still hadn’t hung up, but you definitely would’ve by now. She knew her time was running out and the tugs became more eager. 

You didn’t know shit about leatherworking, but it had become your friend’s newest obsession for the week. And you were totally fine with going to a workshop and trying it out for her sake, but not alone. Not without her. 

Now extremely impatient, she starts pushing you towards the entrance of the leather shop. “I’m sure you’ll have the bestest time, and I can’t wait to see what you make! I’ll make dinner for the rest of the month and be your personal driver until the end of the semester. I love you so much, I’ll see you back at home! Bye, babes!” The excited words hurriedly stumble out of her mouth faster than you’re able to catch them, and you don’t have a chance to say anything back before she’s left you on the welcome mat at the inside entrance of Outlaw Leather. 

From inside, you watch her unmute the call and speed down the street back to her car. With an irritated huff, you shrug off your coat and observe the inside of the shop.

Shelves were stacked high with hundreds of rolls of leather. Some were plain and beige, while others were shimmery and textured with patterns. Leatherworking tools and machines were hung on one side and opposite that, an array of electric guitars lined the wall. Behind the register, there was a massive framed poster of David Bowie wearing a leather jacket with a cigarette hanging from his lips. How stereotypical. 

Between some of the shelves, you spotted middle-aged men contemplating their choice of rubber mallets while an overwhelmed younger employee was helping them decide. 

You whip your head in either direction, and very quickly, on the exposed structures in the ceilings, hanging from one of the pipes, you spot a printed sign that says “HERE FOR A CLASS?” which points further back into the expansive shop. 

Following the sign, you’re led to the surprisingly opened interior of the back of the shop. The setup of the wooden lab tables resembles a kindergarten class, but with one quick view of the sharp, jagged tools and annoyingly bright neon orange lighter in the middle, anyone could tell otherwise.

With your coat in hand, you take a seat at a fairly empty table far away from the demo lab. From the six stools at the table, only 2 were occupied by two elderly women deeply engaged in their conversation. The tables near the demo lab were filled with bright-eyed beginners observing the array of different tools at the table. 

The older women at the table seemed content in not getting to know you better, and you didn’t feel like moving tables. So in your boredom, you take out your phone to open the document of the practice test you’d saved beforehand. You wait for your phone to load, and when the struggling bar refuses to load nothing more than the first page, you slip your phone into your pocket with a heavy sigh. 

You start to spin in your seat, taking in the leather pieces that hang on the wall. There was an array of bags, belts, and wallets, but what caught your attention were the corsets. Most of them were black, but a couple were a dark, deep red. 

As you keep spinning, your legs bump into someone else’s, and you come to a stop. One warm hand rests against your thigh as it holds on to the bottom of the cushioned stool.

“Careful, sweetheart,” a warm voice rings above you. When you look up, you’re met with teasing brown eyes. 

“Sorry,” you quietly apologize, but he’s already moving past you and all you can do is look as he makes his way to the demo lab.

You weren’t one to care for appearances, but he looked fashionable. It wasn’t easy to make an apron look good, but the deep brown leather that hung around his neck was delectable on him. His bleached blonde hair was swept back, and you find yourself wanting to count each of the dangling pieces that hung from his ears. He brings one hand to brush his hair back, and on his pretty hands, you spot varyingly colored fingernails. On the tips of his fingers, you see climbing vines of ink extending to his arms from under his white button-up.

As if he can sense your eyes on him, he turns your way and shoots you a toothy grin. You quickly look down at the bare table and readjust your pink sweater. In the crowd of simple linens and leather jackets, a fuzzy pink sweater stood out like a sore thumb. With yet another sigh, you smooth down the fabric and don’t turn back towards the handsome, aproned employee until he begins the workshop. 

“Good evening, everybody. Nice to see some familiar faces, and to the rest of you,” his eyes catch yours and a smirk decorates his lips, “welcome.” He walks behind the demo lab and places his palms flat on the table. “My name is Hongjoong, and I’ll be guiding you through the workshop today. That’s my assistant, Jongho,” he points to the guy you’d spotted earlier on your way in. Jongho sends a short wave to the class. “Should I be busy, he’ll be more than happy to help you. Now, who’s ready to get this show on the road?”

As he begins to demonstrate, people stand to hover around Hongjoong’s table. From over an older lady’s shoulder, you watch him confidently slice through the sheet of leather and explain what you were making. 

You were signed up in an intermediate class to make a tool roll. A tool roll. You didn’t own any tools, save from a double-sided screwdriver the previous apartment renters had left behind, and you knew for certain your friend wasn’t one to hide tools in her bedroom. What the hell am I supposed to do with a tool roll?

Nonetheless, you watched Hongjoong’s demo carefully. If you had to make a tool roll, you were going to make the best goddamned tool roll you could. Maybe you’d even actually get around to buying tools for it. 

Hongjoong’s thin fingers expertly flatten the cut leather into his desired shapes. Then, he began to stitch a pocket shut. Turning the leather in his hands, he cuts off the excess string and pulls a lighter out of his apron. His thumb runs over the grooved gear, and a tall flame appears before him. He lights the ends before pressing them into the leather. He passes the leather around for everyone to observe as he answers someone’s questions. 

When it finally arrives in your hands, you’re impressed at the neat and straight stitches he’d done in such a short time. Two perfectly circular black dots are stamped into the leather where Hongjoong burned the end of the stitches. You run your thumb over the hardened thread and pass the piece along. 

When the unfinished tool roll is back in his hands, he takes a fork-shaped tool from his apron and drops it into the pocket he’d just created. “There you go,” he says, rolling the leather and showing it to the rest of the class. “That’s the jist of it. Obviously, you guys are gonna have to stitch in a lot more pockets.” With light laughs, everybody disperses back to their tables and begins to work on the leather Jongho had passed out.

Maybe sitting so far away from the instructor wasn’t a good idea, and it was definitely too late to move now. The beginners near the front kept Hongjoong from venturing further back into the classroom where you sat, utterly confused, and Jongho was proving to be frustratingly useless, not straying more than a couple of feet away from Hongjoong’s side. With a downturned face, you look down at your uncut leather and decide it’s better to start than being left behind. 

Taking a silver pen and ruler, you measure out the areas of the leather you wanted to cut. After double-checking, you take the pizza-cutter-looking tool and stand to cut along the soft lines you’d left on the dark brown hide. You hold up a rectangular piece of leather in your hands, feeling proud.

Next, you pick up a tool that looked similar enough to what Hongjoong had used and start marking the leather. Standing up, you begin to mark the folds of pockets. As you forcefully start pressing into the hide, you’re surprised when a thin string of leather comes up with it. That didn’t happen when Hongjoong marked his leather. Your eyes widen, but you’re already several inches down the length of your leather and decide it’s too late to stop. 

In your speechless state, you’d failed to notice Hongjoong standing at the corner of your table. “That’s an advanced technique,” he says with a laugh, and you feel your cheeks warm. “But you probably want to use a scratch awl for this part,” he adds. 

Great, I’ve successfully made a fool of myself in front of the cute leather guy. 

Boys were not on your radar, and for good reason, you think. You’d seen too many freshmen caught up in the new freedom that university provided them, reveling in the alcohol and hookups, only to turn around and get their hearts broken by a boy that doesn’t know any better. Grades slip, moods worsen, and next thing you know, they’ve wasted thousands in tuition. 

Your friend had become the most recent and most unfortunate example. Granted, you were seniors right on the cusp of graduation, but that didn’t stop her from behaving like a naive freshman. That could not and would not be you. Never in this lifetime. 

But, that didn’t stop you from having crushes on obviously attractive people. 

Hongjoong looks around the table, and when he fails to find an extra scratch awl, he pulls his own out of his apron. “Here,” he hands you a tool sleeker than the used and abused tools at the table. “Let’s leave the advanced techniques to the experts, shall we?”

You want to roll your eyes, but the embarrassment is overbearing and all you can do is take the scratch awl from Hongjoong’s hands. Thankfully, he’s called over by the more eager students in the front, and you’re left holding on to his tool in your palms. 

The deep dark brown of the wooden handle feels cool between your fingers, and with a cleared throat, you begin to mark the leather again. Hongjoong’s scratch awl is sharpened and glides across the leather smoothly. You spend an ample amount of time hunched over the piece of leather marking out even pockets. Slipping Hongjoong’s scratch awl in your skirt pocket, you grab a spool of brown thread and two needles. 

After a couple of mishaps, you think you’re really getting the hang of the saddle stitch. Pulling the thread taut, you double-check the back of your project to find a neatly aligned row of brown stitches. Not once did you go through the thread. With a satisfied smile, you flip the leather back over to the front and snip off the additional thread. 

You look for the neon orange lighter on the wooden table. When you finally look up, you find the rest of your tablemates have already completed several rows of stitches. You spot the lighter near the edge and grab it before drawing your attention back to your piece. 

Don’t bring yourself down, dumbass. It’s literally your first time trying this. This is an INTERMEDIATE class. You breathe in and nod at the voice in your head. 

With the lighter in hand, you copy Hongjoong’s movements from the demo. Nothing. You run your thumb over the grooved gear and roll it down. Again, nothing. 

You sit up straighter and crack your neck. Thumb over gear, run it downwards quickly. Nothing!

“Need help?” Hongjoong’s voice pulls you away from your frustrated actions. He’d rounded his way into the back of the room again and had been watching your amusing struggle for a few moments now. He leans across the table, elbows resting inches away from your hand. You try one more time before dropping the lighter in his outstretched palm. 

“I think something might be wrong with it,” you tell him without meeting his eyes. It was absolute bullshit. You knew it worked. He knew it worked. Your elderly tablemates, who’d used it ample times prior to you, knew it worked. 

You hear him jokingly scoff before closing his hand around the lighter. Rolling it between his fingers, he waves it in front of you. When you finally look at him, you wish you hadn’t.

With a knowing smirk plastered on his face, he holds the lighter some inches from your face. He places his thumb over the gear and runs it down quickly, pressing the red tab into the metal of the lighter. A quick flame appears and behind it, you can see it reflecting in his dark eyes. 

He drags your leather closer to him and burns the end of the wax threads. The ends of the brown thread glow yellow before quickly turning black. With a quick flick of his wrist, Hongjoong uses the bottom of the lighter to press the ends down into the stitches, and you can’t stop staring at him. 

You’re not sure, but as his eyes bounce between the burned and flattened ends, you think there’s glitter on his lids. Your eyes flicker down to his exposed arms. His long sleeves have been rolled up, and you're finally seeing the details of the ink that's decorating his skin. The black painted on his fingernails is neat, not crossing into the pink of his skin. He’s so pretty. 

With a smug smile, he turns your piece in between his palms. “Well, would you look at that? Looks like it’s working just fine.” But he’s also so cocky, so in response, you snatch the piece back with a mumbled thanks.

You keep your head down and focus on stitching the other side of your first pocket into the leather. When it comes time to cut the excess thread and burn the ends, you end up asking one of the ladies at your table, who sympathetically helps you. 

Before you know it, Hongjoong’s complimenting everyone on doing a great job and wishing everyone a good night. You look down at the singular pocket you’d managed to stitch into your leather. It seems as if there are endless sighs encapsulating your body, as yet another one escapes. You shove the leather into your bag and slip on your coat as the workshop begins to empty.

“Hey!” 

You turn and find Hongjoong leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He tilts his head and takes in your outfit. Under his gaze, you feel silly in your cream thermal leggings, pink sweater, pink skirt, and even pinker winter coat and shift your legs as Hongjoong moves to stand in front of you. With an outstretched palm, he says, “My scratch awl.”

Your eyes widen, and you pad the pockets of your skirt. Hongjoong watches your bag slip off your shoulders as you search one pocket, and then the other. The last thing you wanted was to look like a thief. You knew Hongjoong could tell you were only a novice, but you prayed he could also tell you weren’t planning on doing more leatherwork than you’d done today and his scratch awl would be of absolutely zero realistic use to you. 

Feeling the smooth wood under your skirt, you pull out the scratch awl from your pocket and place it in his palms, wordlessly. Being attracted to him was bad, but being embarrassed in front of Hongjoong was worse, you decide. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says with a deep smile. “You know, a girl really should know how to turn on a lighter,” he shrugs as you’re readjusting your bag over your shoulders. You roll your eyes and turn to the front door. “See you soon!” he shouts just as the door closes behind you. 

Yeah, right.

*****

“So, how was the class?” your friend slyly asks, sliding down into the empty seat next to you in the lecture hall early the following morning. At your fiery eyes, she slides a warm coffee towards, “Hey! Look, I came with a peace offering!”

“Fuck you,” you tell her with a sarcastically sweet smile, taking the coffee from her hands. Digging through your bag, you finally pull out the unfinished piece. 

She plucks the piece from your hands. “Hey, look at this! Couldn’t have been that bad if you ended up making a… a…” she hesitantly turns the leather in her hands. “Sorry babes, but what the hell is this supposed to be?”

“It’ll become a tool roll,” you shove the piece back in your bag. “Eventually,” you add, leaning back into the lecture hall’s uncomfortable chairs. 

“Eventually? So you’re going back?” she asks, pulling out her laptop.

“God, no. The instructor was a dick.” Failing to mention the fact he was also hot as hell, you continue, “But I’m sure I can figure it out on my own.”

You were naturally inclined to be determined. It was easy to rely on people and just as easy to be disappointed by them. So if there was work to be done that you could do by yourself, you would do it by yourself. 

The rest of the day passes as every day before it. You stuff as much information as you can down your throat, and when you get home, you print off practice worksheets and exams to prepare for the following week. 

As you make your way through the packets of paper, Hongjoong’s piercing gaze flashes across your mind more often than you’d like. You know, a girl really should know how to turn on a lighter. You cynically shake your head. What good would knowing that information do? You weren’t going to be stranded on an island anytime soon. A lighter would be the last thing on your mind should a nuclear war break out. Besides, you knew how to light matches. What more could you possibly need?

Taking a break from the practice exam, you pull the unfinished tool roll out of your bag. You knew at the very least you’d need a spool of thread and a needle to finish it. Looking online, you’re left more confused than when you started. Threads have different thicknesses? You run a finger over your stitches, unable to gauge a sense of thickness. Minutes into researching the needles, you slam your laptop shut and figure it’d be better to suck up your ego and begrudgingly give Outlaw Leather another visit.

With sleep no longer on your radar, you print off another practice exam and flip through the pages. Sleepless nights weren’t new to you. In fact, it was an unfortunate fact how common they’d become. Leaning back in your chair, you decide to take a walk to the convenience store underneath your apartment to grab some snacks to accompany your late-night studying endeavors.

The fluorescents of the store shake the remnants of sleep that were lingering, and with a sigh, you rummage through the selection of packaged foods. Creating a combination of possibly the most heart attack inducing foods and pain medication, you fill your basket to the brim and make your way to the register. 

The convenience store clerk starts scanning the myriad of late night snacks and pain killers. As you’re watching the total climb higher and higher, you flick your eyes to the plastic container in front of the register lined with standing lighters. 

A lighter would be more useful than matches during an apocalypse. You could reuse it several more times than a wooden matchstick. With a scoffed laugh, you roll your eyes. Hongjoong’s cocky stare still irritated you. But the other part of you feared he was right; you should know how to light a lighter just in case an apocalypse was on the radar. 

With a shake of your head, you card through the patterns, find one decorated in pink and red hearts and place it next to your unscanned items. “I’ll take one of these, too.”

*****

Several sleepless nights pass by before you’re eventually too frustrated looking at the incomplete tool roll sitting pathetically on your desk. On the following Friday after classes, you walk into Outlaw Leather with a mission in mind: Get some needles, get a spool, and get the fuck out. 

“Back already, sweetheart? Did you miss me that bad?” Hongjoong calls out from behind the register. 

You were better prepared this time around. You had straightened your back and smoothed out the ruffles in your pink skirt before stepping foot inside the shop. “Please, you’re like the stereotype personified. If I had to take a guess, I’d say your shitty motorcycle’s parked out back, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” he steps closer to you. “Want me to take you on a drive sometime?”

“Ugh, as if,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” Hongjoong says, his smile never faltering, “Why are you here then?”

You unzip your backpack and take out your leather roll, and maintaining eye contact with Hongjoong, you toss your unfinished piece on the counter. “I have to finish this. It doesn’t look the way it should, and I need it to look the way it has to. Besides, I don’t have any of the supplies I need to make any progress myself.”

Hongjoong picks up the leather and runs his fingers along the groove of your stitches. Suddenly, the self-conscious shame creeps its way up to your cheeks. Looking at Hongjoong’s finished and polished pieces on the wall was more than enough to feel incompetent, and you can’t help but wonder how silly he thinks you look mocking an actual expert like him with your badly cut and sewn tool roll. 

But if he does think you’re mocking him, he doesn’t mention it, instead saying, “It doesn’t have to look any certain way, you know that right? What I did during class was just a template. You’re supposed to customize it.” When you don’t respond, he observes your piece with a sigh and adds, “But I guess I can get you headed in the right direction.” He rounds the register and holds the piece out for you to take. 

You follow him as he weaves through the store, picking out a pair of needles and a dark brown threaded spool. As he explains the differences between the sizes of needles and thickness of the thread, you try to follow along as best you can. The sleep you’d gotten the night before was abysmal and classes had been an absolute horror today, but you don’t think you can go home only to stare at an incomplete project that definitely should’ve been done by now.

“Thanks, I’ll just do it at home,” you take the spool of thread and the needles from him and turn towards the register. 

“You know, the labs are meant for people to come and work at,” he says. The mischievous look takes over his face as he adds, “Besides, we don’t want you taking another trip down here in your pretty skirts now, do we? The weather isn’t very forgiving these days.”

You look down at the thread and then your outfit. If you went back home and your friend saw you with a spool of thread hunched over this stupid piece of unfinished leather, you’d never live it down. And it was chilly outside. And you didn’t want to go home only to be distracted by your assignments. “Okay,” you tell him. Hongjoong points you to the back of the store with a toothy grin, and you take a seat at the empty lab tables and watch him linger for a moment before turning back to the register with a smile.

It takes you some time before you’re able to get in the groove, but once you’ve marked out the remaining pockets on the leather, you take a deep breath and start sewing. And as the hour passes, you think you’re doing quite well, stitching in pocket after pocket, until you’re not.

“Joongie!” a shrill voice calls out from the front of the shop. In clicking shoes, a not-so modestly dressed girl comes running into the store. After pushing past a confused Jongho, she sprints towards Hongjoong. 

“Hi,” a sweet giggle rumbles in his throat. He holds his arms out, and the girl finds her away into them, settling her jaw over his shoulder and ruffling his hair. “Alright, alright,” he says, pushing his hair back. “Ready to get your measurements taken?”

The girl nods, and Hongjoong leads her away to what looks like an office which just happened to be so unfortunately in the direct line of your vision. 

You try your hardest not to look or listen to them, forcing your eyes down on the half-sewn pocket, but when the girl shrugs off her fur coat, you can’t help yourself. She’s dressed in a tight black cropped tank top that surely does nothing to protect her from the cold. She tosses the fur coat over a chair and laughs at something Hongjoong says. There’s a low ringing in your ears, and momentarily, you’re glad you can’t hear their conversation.

You watch Hongjoong take a measuring tape from a desk drawer and frown as he wraps it around her waist. It deepens when he measures the curve of her breasts next. All while happily conversing with her, he takes a final measurement of her hips. 

You look back down at your nearly finished tool roll and sigh. An unfamiliar emotion bubbles in your chest, and you think you certainly must look ugly. Your head aches from being in a frustrated frown all day, and you think the beginnings of blisters are forming on the pads of your fingers from pinching the thick needles for hours on end. 

It was jealousy. It felt misplaced and dirty in your system, like a bottomless pit eager only to take and never to give. Here you were sitting in your own misery, shaming a girl that you’d never met and judging her clothing. You zone back into the row and diligently stitch along the line. 

When you finish the row and decide to take a break, your eyes and ears find their way back to Hongjoong’s little office. 

“What color?” he asks her.

As she’s slipping her coat back on she responds with, “Hot rod red.”

Hot rod red. She wanted the corset to be hot rod red. Hot? Rod? Red? Would you ever have the nerve to wear something so daring? Probably not. You turn back to your unfinished roll, and with an angered vigor, you start stitching again. 

The girl leaves giving Hongjoong yet another tight hug and ruffling his hair, but you’re still sitting on the uncomfortable stool, sewing away a storm. Your neck is in a world of pain, begging for a release, but you’re adamant on finishing.

The shop is quiet, and after taking the girl’s measurements, Hongjoong has been locked away in the office. The sun has since set, and besides Jongho’s occasionally sweet voice conversing with customers or humming along to the quiet radio, the silence in the store leaves you in a focused trance. Just a half-hour before closing, you finish burnishing the final corners of the roll.

When you stand, you want to immediately sit back down and sleep against the rough grain of the lab table, but you place one foot in front of the other and make your way to the register where Hongjoong is now seated.

“Not bad,” he says, with a cocky smile. He looks at the tool roll clutched tightly between your hands. He sees the leather cinching around the stitches but chooses to not tell you your stitches are too tight when he notices how exhausted you look. Your shoulders are slumped, head low, and fingers are red. The smile disappears from his face, and just as you’re grabbing your receipt from his hands, he stops you, rounding the register. 

“Whoa, hold on a second,” he says, taking your hand between his. He looks at the reddened and raw pads of your fingers. “You should’ve worn the protectors, sweetheart. Come here,” he takes your hand and leads you to the sink near the back of the workshop. 

Cool water runs over your fingers, and you sigh, letting your eyes shut momentarily.

“What are you thinking about?” Hongjoong asks, studying your finally relaxed face.

“An exam I have next week,” you lie, opting to omit the truth. And it wasn’t entirely untrue. You did have an exam next week. You should probably print off a practice exam when you get back. 

“God, you need to shut that brain of yours off and get some sleep,” he says, no malice in his voice.

You open your eyes and watch the water splash over your fingers. “Yeah, that’d be a real miracle,” you reply with a scoff. 

“Have trouble sleeping?” His grip on your hand loosens. 

You shrug while curling your fingers under the gentle stream of cool water and respond, “Only since the last semester. Probably just stress. I think I’m good now.” You take your hand from Hongjoong’s and shake off the dripping water.

“Hold on,” Hongjoong bends down and open the drawer underneath the sink to pull out a first-aid kit. He flips the kit open and grabs a tiny tube of cooling gel. “I went through like a dozen of these when I was starting out,” he sighs, squeezing out a little green gel. When you slightly wince, he sighs again and gently spreads the gel over the pads of your fingers saying, “Just wear the protectors next time, okay sweetheart?”

You probably weren’t coming back here. You probably won't run into Hongjoong again. You didn’t think any more leather projects were on your radar, and your friend had already moved on to a different hobby. 

Nonetheless, you watch Hongjoong’s fingers run over yours, spreading the gel, and nod.

*****

You were back.

Now that you were finished with that god-forsaken tool roll you had no tools for, your life should’ve continued on normally. You should’ve gone straight to the library after your classes to get started on a presentation that was due next week. You should’ve. You knew you should’ve, but here you were standing outside the entrance of Outlaw Leather a week later. 

You couldn’t think straight at all for the past week, although that may have been due to the lack of sleep. When you found your feet taking you downtown to Hongjoong’s shop, you tried to justify your need to be there. Now, at the entrance, you still had nothing. 

Taking out your lighter, you run your thumb over the grooved gear and run it down. A flame appears. You let go, and it disappears. With some late-night practice and tutorials, you were eventually able to figure the lighter out. You repeat the process over and over again while internally debating whether or not you want to go in. 

Eventually, Jongho’s peeking head appears through the slightly opening door. “Are you planning on coming in or are you just gonna stand there?” You take a shaky step towards the entrance of the shop and let Jongho hold the door open for you with a small thanks.

During the early evening, the shop was quiet with a few lingering customers. With padded footsteps, you make your way to Hongjoong’s office, no clear indication of why you were gracing him with your presence on a Thursday evening.

He’s sitting at his desk, sketching out a pattern for a project you can’t make out. You stand for a moment, watching his laser-focused eyes following the graphite of pencil. His downturned lips and furrowed brow soften up his rough features, and you can’t help but think how cute he looks when he’s not smirking. 

At the thought, you shake your head and clear your throat to get his attention. 

The chair swivels around, and his signature smirk makes its way to Hongjoong’s face. “Thought you’ve already finished the tool roll?”

“That’s not why I’m here.” Why AM I here?

Twirling the pencil between his pretty fingers, he leans back into the chair. “Oh? Then how can I help you, sweetheart?” 

You say the first thing you could think of, which unfortunately for you, ends up being, “I want a corset.” I do?

“You do?”

“I do.”

His smirk only deepens as he turns around to pull a sheet of paper out of one of his drawers. Attaching to a clipboard, he hands you the sheet and turns around to stack the sketches into a pile. “Fill that out, and we’ll get started.”

You look down at the sheet. A large portion for it is for Hongjoong, requiring specific measurements, but the top portion is for you. 

Thankfully, Hongjoong’s turned around and clearing off his desk when your eyes widened comically at the listed price without any special embellishments. Fuck it. You start filling in your name and address. 

“I’ll take your measurements today and have a guide ready to go by tomorrow. When you come in tomorrow, I’ll double-check my initial measurements and see how they fit, and then I can start. That sound good to you?” He leans against his now cleared desk.

“Yeah,” you tell him, not looking up from the clipboard. Having mercy on your bank account, you decide to forgo any embellishments and hand the clipboard back to Hongjoong. As he’s scanning your information, the cockiness splattered across his features has you believing this is resting face.

“Okay sweetheart, let’s make you a corset.” You nod at him, awaiting his next instructions. He stares at you, the twirling pencil in fingers slowing when you stare back. His smirk deepens. “The sweater’s gotta come off.”

You had clearly not thought this through. You just had a simple bra under your thick knitted sweater, and you didn’t have an extra camisole or tank with you. You tug at one of the stitches on your sleeve, “Can’t you measure over the sweater?”

“No can do, unless you want to pay me to make something that’s not going to fit you,” he shrugs. 

You look outside the door of Hongjoong’s office. Jongho was restocking some inventory, and the few customers inside had their back turned to you while deciding how much of a roll they wanted to cut. At your hesitancy, Hongjoong’s teasing takes a break, and with a gentle voice, he asks, “Do you want me to close the door?”

You nod at his offer, and he steps in front of you to click the door shut. As the door closes, the room opens up, and you’re able to spot an unmade queen size bed in the corner. 

“You sleep here?”

“Sure do,” he says, hands resting on his hips. With a deep breath, you lift the sweater over your head. Hongjoong’s next remark catches in his throat when you’ve pulled off your adorable pink sweater and are left in only with an equally adorable lacey pink bra that wraps snuggly around your chest. He shakes away the interrupting thoughts before saying, “You are standing in my bedroom, after all.”

The conversation distracts you from the chill you feel standing almost naked in an attractive guy’s bedroom. Holding the sweater in your crossed arms, you ask “This is your bedroom?”

“Yeah,” he says with a little laugh. He rounds your body and grabs the tape measure from his desk. You hold your breath when he takes in your covered torso. “The sweater’s gotta go all the way, sweetheart,” he says, rolling his desk chair between the two of you. 

With a pout, you hang your sweater over the back of his chair, and let your arms dangle at your sides. Hongjoong rolls the chair back to its spot and steps closer to you. The fire you had in you retires to the back burner when Hongjoong’s scent fills your nose. He taps your elbows with a quiet, “Arms up,” as he steps even closer to round the measuring tape around your body. 

The tension is palpable, and Hongjoong has dove headfirst into getting accurate measurements in silence. Normally, you wouldn’t mind it, but he smells like a godly combination of spice and leather, you’re embarrassingly horny now, and you’re standing partially naked in his bedroom.

Taking a look around his room, your eyes flicker over a wall of pictures, some polaroid, some printed, some cut out from magazines. On his desk, there’s a half painted shoe next to a fully painted shoe. Many more clothing items are hung near or around his desk with patches cut out from the fabric of the arms and the back. 

When you turn to look back at his bed, you’re surprised at how comfortable it looks. While it's clearly unmade, the plaid gray sheets look clean and homely. The pillows and duvet are well used, and the thought of taking a nap here sounds a little too nice. 

“Your room doesn’t match your aesthetic,” you tell him when the cool plastic of the tape measure makes contact with your hot skin.

You feel Hongjoong’s breath against your neck when he tightens the tape around your waist. “Oh, yeah? What’d you expect my bedroom to look like?”

With a light shrug, you ponder out loud, “I don’t know, I thought it’d be more edgy and less… wholesome.” You nod at the smiling pictures of him on the wall.

Hongjoong quickly follows your trailing eyes and laughingly scoffs again. “So, just because I work with leather, you expect me to sleep on a cow hide or something?” You’re embarrassed at what you’ve implied and shrink in on yourself. “You’re so tense. It’d help you to relax,” Hongjoong laughs with a light poke at your hips. 

The fire finds its way back to you at his relentlessly teasing tone. “I don’t want to relax, I want a corset.”

To measure your hips, he kneels on one knee and looks up at you. “Mhm, and what are you going to do with a corset?”

“Wear it,” you answer down at him, brows furrowed as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“What, and mess up your cute sweater numbers? I don’t think you would, sweetheart,” he says, standing back up. “Besides, I don’t really think it matches your aesthetic,” he says, throwing your own words back in your face.

It should’ve been off-putting and unattractive, this behavior. You should’ve been rolling your eyes and cringing at his words. But instead, your nipples were hard, and you were praying they weren’t visible through your bra.

“I will wear it,” you say with stuttering confidence. 

“Mhm,” Hongjoons says, writing down the measurements onto the slip you’d filled out earlier. “What color?”

“What?”

“What color do you want it to be?”

The words hot rod red are begging to fly out of your mouth, but if you were going to be paying for a custom corset, you figure it should at least be to your liking. “Can you do pink? Like this kind?” you ask, pinching the fabric of your pastel pink sweater between your fingers.

The corners of Hongjoong’s lips curve into a smirk, and he nods, writing it down on the checklist. “Yeah sweetheart, I can do pink.”

*****

The next day, you walk into Outlaw Leather much later than you were supposed to. Just as Jongho’s turning you away while pointing at the hours posted on the door, Hongjoong emerges from his office. 

“I’ve got this, man. You can clock out.” And with a wave from Jongho, you and Hongjoong remain in the empty store. 

Hongjoong quietly leads you to his bedroom. “You can wait in here, just give me a couple minutes to close up.”

His room looks cozier with the harsh tube light turned off, letting only the golden glow of the few lamps illuminate the space. His bed’s still unmade, but it looks extra comfortable in soft yellow light.

On his desk sits a thick strip of black-dyed leather. Taking it in your hands, you feel the rigid strip fold under your touch and run your fingers along the textured front. It felt cool and rough, but you stroke the strip between your fingers nonetheless. 

“That’s not for you, sweetheart. Although, I’d be happy to make you one,” Hongjoong’s voice startles you, and you turn to see him in the doorway. His eyes flick down to your hips, and you gently place the belt back on his desk, warmth pooling in your stomach.

“Sorry,” you wipe your hands on your pants and look at the pink leather in his hands. 

The tint on the leather is a delicate pastel, just like you asked, and the cut of the hide has your breath hitched. The stitching in the corset is delicate, but striking. Even in your awe, you were confused. The corset looked finished, polished and ready to wear; even if there were adjustments to be made, you were sure there wasn’t much he could adjust now. 

Nonetheless, you grab the edges of your sweater. When you slip it off over your head and hang it on his chair, you miss the disappointed look that fleetingly flickers across Hongjoong’s face. You’d worn a camisole underneath your sweater today to save yourself from the embarrassing predicament you’d put yourself in only yesterday. 

Moving behind you, he orders, “Arms up.” Hongjoong wraps the corset around your waist and pulls you flush to him, closing it. You gasp in a surprised breath when your back collides with his hardened chest. “So, so tense, sweetheart,” he breathes into your neck, and you can hear his smile. Goosebumps rise up your back, and you don’t respond to him, keeping your breath held. “Is this too tight?”

“No,” you swallow the collecting saliva in your mouth. Hongjoong backs away, slipping the corset away from your torso.

“Alright,” he moves around your still body, laying the corset next to the black belt and adds, “I’ll condition the leather, and it’ll be ready for you to pick up tomorrow.”

Well, that was fast. “Thanks,” you send him a short smile and reach to grab your sweater off the back of his desk chair, hiding your disheartedness. You wanted to stay longer and do something, you didn’t want to go home. You wanted to stay in this room and not think about your assignments or exams. Over your shoulder, you look back at Hongjoong’s bed.

“You know, I read an interesting article the other day,” Hongjoong’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Didn’t peg you as a reader,” you say, but when you catch Hongjoong looking stupidly sexy rolling his big, beautiful eyes at you, you add, “What’d you read?”

His hips lean back into his desk, arms crossed over his chest, shrugging, “It wasn’t much, but it did say something about how beneficial orgasms are at helping insomniacs.”

You freeze, and your eyes widen. Of course, you’d already known this. After the first couple of sleepless nights passed, you did extensive research trying to find the best remedy for yourself. 

Relax your body. This can be done through a variety of different methods. To most effectively and efficiently relax your muscles, let your body experience somatic arousal.

You’d shut your laptop and settled on trying aromatherapy and meditation instead. When days turned into weeks, you’d gotten desperate and brought a tiny vibrator which you carried around. Just in case.

“Yeah, I know,” you say with a sigh. The tiredness that ran through your body had dissipated the shame you’d usually felt, and you reach into your bag to pull out the hot pink vibrator and dangle it in front of Hongjoong’s face, “But if this hasn’t been able to get the job done, I don’t think anything will.”

For a moment, the shock is vividly apparent on Hongjoong’s face, and the shame in your body is ready to resurface with a vengeance. But just as quickly as it comes, it disappears when Hongjoong’s face twists into a smirk. The same cocky smirk you’d been using to get off in these past few weeks. 

The smirk turns into a mocking pout as Hongjoong snatches the vibrator from your hands. “You poor thing. How many orgasms do you give yourself every night?”

The warmth in your cheeks spreads down your neck and pools in your stomach. “Uhm, I— just one, usually,” you say, looking down at the floor of Hongjoong’s room. 

You hear him scoff and look up to see his haughty attitude return. “You think one orgasm’s going to put you to sleep?”

“Yes?” you respond incredulously. The mixture of emotions swirling through your mind were doing a great job at confusing you, but never did you think you’d stand in Hongjoong’s room while he judges how you choose to cure your insomnia.

“One orgasm is hardly going to do anything, let alone relax you enough to sleep,” Hongjoong says, polished nails thumbing through the settings on the vibrator. “In fact,” he says, stepping much too close to you, “I’m willing to bet you’ve never even experimented with the higher settings.” His soft breath fans across your face, and you look away from him, focusing your attention on anything else in his room.

You hear a chuckle rumbling from his chest as your silence proves him right. His thumb gently grabs your chin, and he redirects your eyes back to him, asking, “Would you like to?”

You dryly swallow and stare at him. Fuck it all to hell. You eagerly lean into his lips and kiss him fervently. When you feel his stupid, cocky smile against your lips, you press harder and let your teeth teasingly sink down on his lower lip. Accomplished pride blooms in your chest as he gasps and pulls away.

“You know the color system?” When you nod, he pulls you closer, “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” you breathlessly respond, and his lips are back on yours. Hongjoong roughly grabs at your hips, slipping his hands under the thin pink camisole. He pushes you towards his bed, and when your knees collide with its frame, he pulls away again.

“Sit,” he orders, and you follow. With your hands on either side of you, you look up at Hongjoong from his plaid gray sheets excited, enamored, and eager. Hongjoong releases a shuddered breath at your pliant eyes before he kneels in front of you.

Today was exceptionally cold, and you’d opted to overgo your pink skirts in favor of a pair of thick pants. Hongjoong’s hands bunch at the material to tug it down your legs, and you back up further onto his bed and raise your hips in effort to help him. Once they're off, he tosses them carelessly onto his floor and pushes you to lay back against his pillows. 

Other than your pants, Hongjoong made no effort to remove any of your other clothing, letting his lips slot against yours once again. His hand finds the warm flesh of the skin between your thighs, and with the other he caresses your jaw. Unable to keep away, you reach for his neck and feel the dangling silver of his earrings tickle your fingers.

“You’ll be good for me, won’t you sweetheart?” His request is soft and whispered against your lips, but at your delayed response, his roughened hand kneads your thigh harder. “Won’t you?”

You pull away from him to answer, “I will,” and try to chase after him, but much to your disappointment, Hongjoong leans back.

A low buzz comes from between his fingers, and you realize your forgotten vibrator was still in Hongjoong’s hands. At the noise, you feel yourself getting wetter, your underwear now uncomfortably clinging to your skin. 

Squirming to adjust yourself, your thighs close around Hongjoong’s hands. He smiles at the action and takes his hand away from your jaw. “Hands.”

Confused, you stop your squirming and bring your hands between your bodies. His hands wrap around your wrists, pushing them above your head and pressing the vibrator over your underwear in one quick motion. 

A surprised whimper escapes your lips. The tight grip of his hands feels so good around your wrists, but the stimulation from the vibrator felt torturously low over your cotton panties.

“Feels good, right sweetheart?” He wiggles the vibrator over your clit and laughs lowly when you roll your hips to meet his movements. “This is what you’re used to, isn’t it? Level 1?” It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build even if the buzz of the vibrator was dull. 

Usually, this process would take you much more time. It’d have to be well into the night, your roommate fallen asleep long ago. The work at your desk should no longer have the capacity to take any more of your attention, and sleep should be the last thing on your mind. You had a playlist, a hot celebrity’s shirtless picture, and most importantly, privacy. 

But the woody smell of Hongjoong’s cologne, his calloused hands at your thighs, and his cocky self-satisfied smile had you close in no time.

“Please, please,” you ask, rolling your hips. Hongjoong presses against you and holds the vibrator down, and you whimper pathetically.

“Gonna cum already?” Hongjoong asks, devilishly smiling down at you. “That’s okay, sweetheart. Go ahead and cum for me.”

And you do. With your eyes closed, you let your head fall back against Hongjoong’s pillows and slightly tug your hands in his grip. Your orgasm comes quick and hard, the buzz finally falling away from your clit. 

Catching your breath, you open your eyes to look up at Hongjoong zeroed in on the sight between your legs. Unfortunately for you, you now feel more awake than you’ve ever felt and letting the reality of the situation sink in, shut your legs. 

Hongjoong doesn’t let your actions faze him, and instead, he moves to rub the skin of your hips. “Felt good?” You nod, but before you could let your overthinking thoughts interrupt him, he adds, “I bet it did, but look at you. There’s a mess in your cute panties, and I can hear your heart beating from here. I’d barely call this relaxed, barely enough to get you sleeping.”

“I—” You knew that, but you truly thought one would do the trick. Instead, your hips felt stiff, and the stickiness in your underwear was begging to be taken care of. I want more, I NEED more. Collecting your rambled thoughts, you look back at Hongjoong who’s patiently waiting for your explanation. “Can you help me, please?”

An evil smile overtakes Hongjoong’s face and makes you clench disappointedly around nothing. “Of course I can help you, sweetheart.” You can feel yourself gushing, breathing out a sigh of relief when Hongjoong moves down to take off your underwear. 

“What a pretty mess you’ve made,” he says, hungrily looking at the result of your first orgasm. Your arousal leaked through your underwear, and you just know you’ve stained his sheets. Your cheeks warm with embarrassment, but you still whine, wanting the panties out of the way.

Catching your intentions, Hongjoong simply laughs, grabbing the vibrator once more. It comes to life again, this time loud and more aggressively. Level 2.

Level 2 was uncharted territory. The night you’d gotten the vibrator, you’d turned on each setting while twirling the device between your fingers. 1 was fine, it felt low and steady. But having 2 turned on for only a minute numbed the pads of your fingers. You’d avoided Level 3 out of sheer fear, never even letting the setting touch your fingertips. 

Hongjoong doesn’t take your underwear off, no matter how much you squirm. Instead, he rubs your slick through your panties and wet his lips as he lets the vibrator rest against your thighs.

Slowly, he trails the pink bullet closer and closer to your pussy. Frustrated at his pace, you raise your hips in search of the vibrator. “You said you’d be good for me, sweetheart,” he teases. When he asks for your hands again, you give them away at record speed, only prompting more teasing. “I told you I’d help you, and I will,” he says, pinning your arms tightly above you.

The smile decorating Hongjoong’s face is dangerous, and then you realize you would do anything he asked you to. Here, in his room, on his bed, you were ready to become what you avoided so well for the past four years.

At your hitching breath, he nestles the vibrator onto your clit, the stimulation making your head spin. Letting him take away your arms felt good, too good, and when you tug against them, his hold only tightens, making you gush. 

“How’s Level 2 feel, hmm?” Hongjoong asks, kissing up your neck. It felt good; you know it did. It was stronger and made your leak with need, but the presence of your underwear was too overpowering.

With a newfound devotion and growing distaste of your wrecked panties, you tug again. “Joongie, please,” you whine. “Take them off,” you plead. 

As the nickname falls out of your lips, Hongjoong’s eyes darkly narrow and his smile falls away. Again, much to your disappointment, he lets your arms go. Moving the vibrator in slow, calculated circles, he takes his free and hooks his thumb under the waistband. 

“You come into my store, looking all pretty in pink, like a fucking angel, and you know what it makes me want to do, sweetheart?” You shake your head, and at the motion, the humming of the vibrator falls away from your clit. You feel a swift slap against your thighs. “Do you know what it makes me want to do?” Hongjoong enunciates for you, placing the vibrator back onto your clit, pressing down harder this time.

“No, I don’t know,” you breathlessly respond. Your thigh feels like it’s on fire, and you know your underwear is beyond saving. The stinging from the slap only builds your orgasm faster when Hongjoong speaks again. 

“It makes me want to ruin you,” he says, letting the band of underwear snap against your hips. “Will you let me ruin you?”

You’d think you would have learned your lesson by now, but you nod yet again and feel another slap against your other thigh. “Yes, I will! Please ruin me, please!” you beg as your second orgasm crashes down on you. 

Hongjoong turns the vibrator back down to Level 1 and leans in to give you a deep kiss. Your breath feels like it’s been knocked out of your lungs, and you let Hongjoong explore, letting him take more and more of your air as you ride out your high on his sheets.

You let your hands tangle in his hair, and you pull him closer. Bringing your knees towards your body, your knee grazing against Hongjoong’s hardened length, prompting you to pull away. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” You barely have time to register the new pet name before Hongjoong’s peeling your ruined underwear off. When the cool air of his room finally touches your exposed, wet pussy, you shiver before it’s quickly replaced with a moan when the vibrator makes contact with your clit again.

“Yes, but I…” you start, eyeing the unfinished belt on his desk before flicking your eyes back to him, “I want more.”

“Fuck,” he laughs following your line of sight. “Is that what you need, baby? You need someone to take your control from you? Be mean to you? Tie you up?”

You nod desperately. You feel like you’ve never wanted anything more, just letting Hongjoong give while all you do is take.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he gives you a quick kiss. Making quick of your response, Hongjoong gets off the bed and laughs at your poor state as he takes the vibrator with him. Taking the black belt from his desk, he hovers momentarily over your form, taking in your blown out eyes and panting chest. Your hardened nipples poke over your camisole, and there’s a glittery sheen of sweat across your collar. 

Hongjoong’s cock strains against the material of his pants at the sight of you so fucked out for him, but he quickly files the feeling away for later. Gliding his fingers between yours, he pushes them up to the wooden rails of his headboard, wrapping the leather of the belt and securing it around your wrists.

The leather feels cool on your steaming skin, and when Hongjoong has you tied up, you feel oddly relaxed, glad your hands are restrained, leaving yourself for Hongjoong to give you as much as he thought you needed. 

He leaves a soft kiss on the sides of your arms and trails downwards. Over your camisole, he places open kisses on your nipples, and you arch off the mattress, hungry for more. You wanted Hongjoong everywhere on your body, all at once. 

As the vibrator is back on your bare pussy, he bites at your nipple, his tongue wetting the thin material. Your eyes shut tightly in ecstasy, and incoherent words are tumbling out of your mouth, begging Hongjoong to not stop when he moves to give the other nipple the same treatment.

His deep laughter reverberates in your chest. “I don’t plan on it. More?” 

“Yes, please,” you ask through whining gasps, and he listens, trailing his kisses up to your neck. Sneakily, he ups the level on the vibrator, and the sudden, intense pleasure of Level 2 on your overwhelmed clit feels exhilarating, making your eyes cloud over with dark lust. 

“You’re such a good girl, asking so sweetly to be ruined,” Hongjoong says into your neck, biting little marks into the skin. “Poor thing, hmm? You just want a good night’s rest, right sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” you sob, that’s all you wanted. You thrash against the bed, feeling insatiable. You hear the switch of the vibrator click again. Level 3, and it’s brutal. The vibration is unforgiving in its strong rhythm, and the way Hongjoong is pressing it just right onto your clit doesn’t help.

“Just want someone to shut that brain of yours off, fuck you dumb?”

Yes! You want to cry out as he plucks the thoughts from your mumbled mess, but the words never find themself and you choose to cry out pitifully instead. When the first tear rolls down your hot cheeks, Hongjoong’s dick painfully hardens in his pants. 

Behind the haze of your eyes, Hongjoong finds your thoughts leaving as your orgasm builds. He wants it all gone, all the exams and assignments melting away into nothing. Eager to please, he stuffs two fingers deep into your wet walls, and all it takes is a small, gentle curl of his fingers grazing against your sweet spot and you’re cumming with a soft cry.

The vibrator’s taken away from you again, but his fingers remain in your pulsing pussy, still curled deliciously. The phantom buzz of the ruthless Level 3 is still present on your clit, and you can feel another orgasm building from nothing. The sensitivity feels like a well-intentioned punishment, but your brain feels fried from the onslaught, ready to retire for the night.

Hongjoong splays his hand over your thigh, pushing them out of the way and takes in the mess he’s left at your weeping pussy. A wet patch of your dripping arousal and your pretty, swollen cunt throbbing around his fingers has him swallowing down his desire. “Okay, sweetheart, just one more. Can you take one more for me? I’ll put you to sleep, I promise.”

“Joongie, I can’t anymore,” you tell him through sobs, tugging at the belt. White spots are dancing in your vision, and you seriously think you’re going to pass out. Not that you would mind.

“Don’t you wanna sleep, pretty girl? I thought you wanted my help,” Hongjoong mocks from between your legs, cruelly curling his fingers upwards. At your desperately broken cries, with a softer voice, he travels up to kiss the shell of your ear, whispering, “Color?”

His gentle voice grounds you enough to let you respond, “Green.” You’re sure whatever else you’re saying makes no sense, but your legs part anyway, wanting everything Hongjoong wants to give you. 

“That’s my good girl,” he sends you a sweet kiss on your furrowed brows before he scissors both of his fingers inside of you, pumping and curling steadily. The pleasure has you releasing a stream of steady tears, slurred requests echoing in his room. 

His fingers are gone too soon, but feeling his hand at your jaw, you open your eyes. His fingers are dripping with your slick, and with wide eyes, you shamelessly lean forward and take them in your mouth, tasting yourself. Your tongue swirls around tasting the effects of Hongjoong’s efforts. 

“Fuck, you’re so precious, sweetheart,” you catch him saying as he takes his fingers out and wraps his hand around your throat. Your heartbeat quickens, but Hongjoong doesn’t apply any pressure, simply letting his hand rest around your throat as he pulls you in for a kiss. 

As his tongue explores once more, you roll your hips up, grazing his cock. You’re not sure how he’s able to stay so composed, not wanting or expecting reciprocation, but you grind upwards once more in hopes to relieve him a little. 

The pressure of hand just slightly increases, and he releases a deep, guttural groan, pulling away from you and pinning your hips into the bed, “Not tonight, pretty girl.” He leans back and lets his teeth graze his previously left marks, sucking them darker.

Trailing his hands up your body, he squeezes at your breasts under your camisole and nips at your exposed tummy. You’re grateful for him giving you time to recover from your back to back orgasms, but in this time, you feel your body’s pleas begging for sleep. Your eyelids were drooped, the exhaustion of everything weighing down on you. Your lethargic arms tugged at the belt, wanting to run your hands through Hongjoong’s hair. 

At your frustrated whine, Hongjoong looks up from your tummy to find your lips folding into a cute pout, and he sends you a sweet smile. Moving back, he kneels in front of your tired body. With his cool hands, he grabs the underside of your thighs and pushes them back, head dropping down to your delectable pussy. Shooting you a smug grin, his tongue attacks, sucking away at your far too sensitive clit.

Feeling your thighs tense in his hold at the pleasure, Hongjoong moans into your cunt, sending delicious vibrations up your body. His warm tongue flicks back and forth, spelling out something into your pussy. In your unfocused trance, you try to make out the letters and let out a hiccuped cry when you realize what it is. S, W, E, E, T, H, E, A, R, T. 

He takes a break to suck at your clit, nipping and licking away. And it feels heavenly, different than the vibrator, better than the vibrator. You find yourself thinking you might never need it again when Hongjoong groans against you as you roll your hips into his face. You don’t think you’d ever feel this good, afraid of becoming addicted to the drug-like euphoria. 

Your last orgasm comes quickly, Hongjoong’s tongue making quick work with your overstimulated clit. You come with a strained cry, trying to close your trembling legs around Hongjoong’s head. 

You let all your thoughts and worries fall away, jerking against Hongjoong’s bed, rutting yourself onto his tongue. Your sharp whines and tiny cries do nothing more than make Hongjoong irresistibly want you, but flicking his eyes up to your obliterated form, he falls back, choosing to caress your shaky legs through your orgasm. 

You’re not sure how, but you feel weightless and heavy at the same time. Your eyelids refuse to open, and on your exhausted limbs, you can feel Hongjoong’s warm breath peppering kisses onto the heated skin as he undoes the belt around your wrists. You feel him gently place tender kisses to each wrist, whispering soft words of praise, before sleep overtakes your body. 

Sometime later, your heavy eyelids blink open when you feel a warm rag against your thighs. “You can sleep, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you,” Hongjoong’s deep voice says, lulling you back into a well-deserved deep sleep.

Author's Note II: What'd you guys think? There's actually a nearly completed scene I wrote for this fic that just didn't fit into the actual story, but I'm thinking of releasing it as a bonus sometime in the next few weeks (wink wonk) so definitely look forward to that :) Thank you so much for reading, much love <3

taglist: @arafilez

[purinjoong]

bookshelf

new (୨୧); fluff (♡); angst (☁︎); mature (𖦹); nsfw content. 18+ only. mdni

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚ — ateez

jeong yunho: take off your halo and wings ୨୧, 𖦹

[purinjoong]

mimi ୨୧ any pronouns ♡ 19

mdni — bookshelf

💬 : working on ... amortentia (k.hj)

୭ৎ no writing schedule! please be patient with me!