ringtaez

[ringtaez]

—ON THE LOW 18+

Dealer!Nicholas/Wang Yixiang x Female!Reader

warnings/tags: slow burn, dealer/stoner!nicho, i call him weno in this, soft dom!nicho, shy!reader, loverboy!nicho, drug use, shotgunning, romantic, making out, dry humping, praising, fingering, oral (f. receiving), p in v, mating press, crying, unprotected sex, confessing, aftercare

♡ you started buying weed for your friends and ended up falling for the dealer—turns out, he fell even harder.

w/c: 9.7k (no proofread)

You’d seen him around long before you ever spoke to him. He wasn’t the kind of guy you could ignore. Not because he was loud, Weno was anything but loud, but because he had this presence. Calm, quiet, and detached, like nothing ever really touched him. He was always there but just out of reach. The kind of person who didn’t care if people were watching, but somehow still ended up being the one everyone looked at. You had a couple classes near the same buildings. He always showed up late, always dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed—big hoodie, baggy jeans, backpack hanging off one shoulder. Never rushed. Never looked stressed. Just there. He’d walk past where you and your friends were sitting on the grass and barely glance your way. But even that one second felt heavier than it should. You didn’t know much about him, but you noticed him. You always had. Weno wasn’t exactly a mystery, everyone on campus knew what he did, they just didn’t talk about it. Not out loud, anyway. The stories passed around in whispers. That he sells, and it’s good shit too. That he never chased customers, people came to him. That if he liked you, he might give you more than you paid for. That if he really liked you, you’d know.

You didn’t know if any of that was true. But what you did know was that your friends wanted weed and were too scared to go get it themselves. So they asked you. Apparently, being the quiet one made you the designated “safe” option. It wasn’t like you and Weno were strangers, anyway. You’d talked a few times now. Nothing long, quick chats during pickups, the occasional hi at a party when you passed by each other. He’d never made you feel weird or unsafe. Just… flustered. A little warm in the chest, a little unsure what to say next. He had a way of watching you that felt deliberate, even when he said nothing at all. Your friend had shoved some cash into your hand at the last minute, babbling about how “he’s chill, he’s not scary, just please go for me, I can’t” — and you’d sighed, texting him before you could overthink it. He told you to meet him behind the dorms. 6:30. You almost didn’t go. You weren’t sure why he made you nervous, he hadn’t done anything to deserve that label. But something about him felt sharp beneath all the calm. Like he could see through you if he wanted to. When you rounded the corner that evening, he was already leaning against the side of his car, phone in hand, headphones around his neck. The sun was low, painting the edges of his face gold. You caught yourself staring before you could stop. He looked up as you approached. “Didn’t expect you,” he said, not moving. You blinked, “Why?” He shrugged, “Thought one of your loud friends would be the one to show. You’re not really the type to do this.” It wasn’t teasing exactly, but the way he said it made your face warm. You cleared your throat. “They made me come.” “Mm,” he hummed. “Figured.”

He pushed off the car, pulling a ziplock from his hoodie pocket. You reached for it automatically, but he didn’t hand it over right away. “You ever tried it?” You shook your head. “No. It’s not really… my thing.” He tilted his head slightly. Not judging, just observing. “Didn’t think it was.” he chuckled softly, then he handed it to you, fingers brushing yours for half a second too long. You looked down at your hand, not at the bag, but at where your skin still tingled. “You’re good,” he said quietly, “Let me know next time.” You nodded, muttered a soft thanks, already starting to turn away, but then he said your name. You froze and glanced back. He was still standing by his car, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily spinning his keys around his finger. The way he looked at you made your stomach flip, like he wasn’t just looking at you, but through you. “You always do stuff for your friends?” His tone was casual, but the question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugged a little. “They want something, and you’re the one who shows up.” A pause. “That happen a lot?”You weren’t sure how to answer. It did happen a lot. They asked, you went. Not because you wanted to, but because it felt easier than saying no. You glanced down at the ziplock in your hand. “I guess,” you mumbled. “I don’t know.” He hummed low, like that told him everything he needed to know. You looked back up, ready to say something else—anything, maybe even defend yourself, but he beat you to it. “You’re a good girl.” The words were soft and genuine, but they landed heavy. Your breath caught. His gaze didn’t waver—steady, calm, like he hadn’t just said something that made your skin go warm all over. You didn’t know what to do with that. You didn’t even know what it meant coming from him. You just knew it made something flutter in your stomach. “Thanks,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. You turned and walked off a little too quickly, heart pounding, ears hot, his voice still echoing behind your ribs. You’re a good girl. You didn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. It wasn’t long before your friends asked again. Same excuse, same tone, a whiny “please, he already knows you” and cash pushed into your hand like you owed them something. You hesitated more this time. Not because of them, but because of him. You hadn’t stopped thinking about last time. It replayed in your head again and again. You stared at his contact in your phone for some minutes before typing out the message.

You

hey my friends wanna grab again

He replied two minutes later.

Weno

same place 7:30

When you showed up this time, he was inside his car, driver’s door open, music playing low through the speakers. He looked up as you approached and smiled, lazy and half-lidded. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Hey.”You tried not to sound nervous. You weren’t even sure why you were nervous. This wasn’t new. You’d done this before. But this time, it felt different. You felt different. He stepped out, shutting the car door behind him as he pulled the same ziplock from the pocket of his jeans. You took it wordlessly, but his fingers brushed yours again, on purpose this time. You could feel it in the way he didn’t rush, didn’t pull away immediately. “Still not trying it?” he asked, tilting his head. You shook your head. “Not yet.” He raised a brow. “Why not?” “I just… haven’t.” You tucked the bag quickly into your jacket pocket like it might deflect the attention. “You scared?” The way he asked it wasn’t mocking, just curious, like he wanted to understand you, not challenge you. You hesitated. “No,” you said finally. “Just don’t wanna.” He nodded slowly, watching you again with that unreadable expression. “Still doing things for your friends, though.” You pressed your lips together. “I guess.” “They ever do stuff for you?” You blinked. “What?” He shrugged. “Just wondering.” You didn’t answer. Mostly because you didn’t have one. He could probably tell, because he didn’t push. He just looked at you for a long second, eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up to meet your gaze as he rolled a blunt for him. “You should stop letting people use you.” The bluntness of it caught you off guard. You shifted on your feet, unsure whether to say thank you or tell him it wasn’t like that, even though maybe it was. “You don’t even like them that much, do you?” Your breath hitched. “They’re my friends.” “Mm,” he hummed. “If you say so.”

After that, it happened a few more times. The same routine: a text, a time, a quiet walk behind the dorms where he’d be waiting. Sometimes he was standing. Sometimes in the driver’s seat with the door open. Sometimes already smoking, low music humming from the speakers. And each time, it got a little easier to look him in the eye. But also harder not to look too long. Weno never talked much. He didn’t fill silence just to hear himself speak. He asked things, small things, personal in ways that didn’t feel invasive, just seen. He was trying to piece you together quietly, without making a show of it. You’d come with your friends’ money in your pocket and leave with more than you paid for. Not every time, but enough that you noticed. When you offered to give him more, he just shook his head, said “You’re good,” and he meant it, it wasn’t just about the cash anymore. You didn’t tell your friends about how often you started going. Sometimes it wasn’t even about picking up anymore. You’d hand over the cash, but he’d wave it off. “Not this time.” You started to wonder if he even gave you real amounts. If this was still a deal or just an excuse. What you did know was that somewhere along the way, something started to shift.

It was in the way your pulse picked up when his name lit up your screen. In how you started getting ready earlier than you needed to. In how you made sure your outfit and make up was cute before leaving, like that would help keep your face from giving you away when he looked at you like he always did. It was on the low. No one really knew how often you were seeing him now—certainly not your friends. To them, it was still just you doing the awkward task they were too scared for. They didn’t know that half the time you went to Weno now, it wasn’t even because of them. Sometimes they didn’t ask at all—you just found yourself texting him anyway. And he always said yes. You weren’t sure when it stopped being about weed. You weren’t sure it ever really was. Sometimes you’d sit with him for a while. In the passenger seat of his car, parked in the same quiet lot behind the dorms. He’d roll one and lean back with the window cracked, slow smoke curling out into the night while music filled the silence. He never pushed anything on you. Never asked why you stayed. But you stayed. You weren’t good at talking about yourself, and he didn’t make you. He just gave you space to exist, and maybe that was what started doing it. Maybe that’s why you kept feeling warmer every time you saw him. More sure that he saw you. And you started to open up to him. You two would hang out and talk about anything and anyone very frequently.

You were curled up in the passenger seat, legs tucked under you, jacket zipped halfway. The night was cool, and the air smelled like weed and cologne, smoke curling from the blunt between his fingers. His playlist low in the background that made it feel like time moved slower in his car. You hadn’t said much in the last ten minutes. Just sat there, letting the silence hang. But it wasn’t awkward. Weno never made things awkward. You gave him a small smile, eyes drifting out the window. The streetlights cast a warm glow across the dashboard. He tapped the ash into the tray and leaned back, one arm stretched across the back of your seat like he didn’t even think about it. “I don’t get it,” you said quietly after a moment. “You do this with all your clients?” “Do what?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly, playful but unreadable. “This.” You motioned vaguely between you. “Sit in the car, talk like this, not charge them.” He chuckled once, deep and soft in his chest. “No.” You blinked. “No?” He turned his head, looked right at you, and shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “They’re not you.” Your stomach fluttered. You tried to play it off, but your smile gave you away. He tilted his head slightly, watching you through the soft haze in the car. “You know you’re my favorite, right?” Your head snapped toward him. “What?” He smirked, exhaled a slow breath, eyes never leaving yours. “Client,” he added after a beat, but the pause was on purpose. His smirk deepened like he knew what he was doing to you. Your face went warm immediately. “Shut up,” you muttered, covering your smile with your hand. “I’m serious.” His tone was calm. “You don’t talk much, you don’t ask dumb questions, you never waste my time.” “Oh,” you said quietly. But your smile stayed. “So I’m convenient.” He leaned a little closer, voice dropping low. “Nah. You’re cute.” Your heart jumped. You didn’t know where to look. You didn’t know what to say. So you laughed—awkward and soft, trying to bury your face in your hands like that might cool your cheeks. You left a little later than usual that night.

Three days later, when your screen lit up with a text from him, you answered in less than a minute.

Weno

u free tonight?

wanna chill for a bit?

♡

You

yeah :)

same spot?

♡

Weno

pull up at 10

no rush

You tried not to read into it too much. But you still picked out a different hoodie this time, your favorite one, did a little extra on your make up, styled your hair in way you knew framed your face best. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t anything. But your hands still felt warm as you walked out to meet him. His car was already there when you arrived. You climbed into the passenger seat, familiar now with the way the door stuck a little when you pulled it. Same playlist was on, and the heat was turned up just enough to make the inside feel cozy. He glanced over as you settled in, eyes flicking down to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. “Hey,” he said, voice smooth, quiet. “Hey,” you murmured back, smiling a little.

The next hour passed easily, like it always did when you were with him. You talked about nothing and everything, classes, music, random campus drama you weren’t even involved in, movies you both halfway remembered, the last weird dream you had. He laughed more than usual tonight, low and slow, eyes squinting a little when something you said caught him off guard. His hand rested on the steering wheel as he listened, thumb tapping the leather in a lazy rhythm. He made you feel comfortable, like whatever you had to say mattered even if it didn’t. Like he was listening just because it was you talking. At some point, he lit up. You were mid-sentence when he leaned forward to spark the lighter, the soft flick of it barely cutting into the music. He offered it to you once out of habit, holding the blunt out between two fingers, and this time you didn’t shake your head immediately. You hesitated. Then, before you could overthink it, you took it. Your fingers brushed his. His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze lingered longer than before. “You sure?” he asked, voice soft, a little more serious now. You slowly nodded. “Yeah. Just—don’t laugh at me if I cough.” He smiled, “I won’t.” He leaned back into his seat. “Promise.” You inhaled, a small hit, like you’d seen him do a hundred times now. It burned, made your throat tickle, your eyes water just a little, but you didn’t cough. He watched carefully, still smiling. “Good girl,” he murmured.

Your chest tightened at the words, heat blooming under your skin before you could stop it. You handed it back to him quickly, trying to focus on the burn in your lungs, the soft thrum of bass in the background, anything except how warm you suddenly felt. Time got slower after that. An hour passed in a haze, soft laughter, lazy conversation, both of you sinking deeper into your seats, the windows fogging slightly. He smoked again, and passed it back and forth to you. Your body felt lighter. Music melted into the background, his voice a little rough now. You both stared out at the empty parking lot for a while, just existing. It was quiet in the way that felt close, not awkward. Every time your knee brushed his, he didn’t move. Every time you shifted, his eyes flicked toward your mouth, then back to the road like he didn’t want to get caught looking. And maybe it was the high, or the way the space between you had been shrinking since the start, but something changed. You turned to say something and caught him already looking at you, staring. His arm was still draped behind your seat, but now his fingers were brushing your shoulder, light and casual. You blinked at him. “What?” you whispered, voice lower than before. He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you for a long second, eyes warm, thoughtful. “C’mere.” You didn’t even think. You just leaned forward, heart thudding quietly behind your ribs as his hand slid slowly to the back of your neck. He tilted his head slightly. His lips brushed yours soft at first, testing. Then again, firmer. You leaned into it. Your heart stuttered, hands unsure of where to go. One found the edge of his hoodie. The other pressed lightly to his chest. His mouth moved against yours like he’d been thinking about this for a while. He wasn’t in any rush now that it was finally happening. You kissed him back slow, high and a little breathless, your skin buzzing all over. He pulled back eventually, just enough to look at you, eyes dark and steady.

“You’re high,” he said, almost teasing. “So are you,” you whispered. He smiled, gaze dropping to your lips again. “Yeah. But I still meant it.” You smiled, small and dazed, and tucked your legs under you again, curling back into your seat. The car was quiet for a few more minutes. Nothing changed. But everything had. And when you finally said you should go, he didn’t stop you. Just nodded, reached over, and opened the door for you like he always did. Before you stepped out, he caught your wrist gently. You turned back. His eyes searched yours for a moment. “Text me when you get in.” You nodded, “Okay.”

You

made it home :)

♡

Weno

good

was starting to think u got lost

♡

You

nope

just still thinking

♡

Weno

about?

♡

You

you

♡

Weno

yeah?

what part

♡

You

the obvious part

♡

Weno

mm

i liked that part too

didn’t rlly want u to go

♡

You

u didn’t?

♡

Weno

nah

wanted to kiss u again

♡

You

i wanted to too

but i got nervous :(

♡

Weno

it’s ok bby

will i see u again soon?

♡

You

yeah

if u want to

♡

Weno

i do

♡

You

can’t wait

goodnight weno :)

♡

Weno

me neither

gn <3

You didn’t stop thinking about that night. Or his texts. Or when he said he wanted to kiss you again. The way your heart stuttered when he called you bby like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it was already normal between you. It wasn’t, not really. But it was starting to be. You’d kept texting after that. Not every second of the day, but enough. Little check-ins, good mornings, music recs, late night questions that felt heavier than they sounded. He was never overly forward, not the type to blow up your phone or say things just to get a reaction, but everything he did say stuck with you. You were head over heels. Smiling at your phone and then burying your face in your pillow like an idiot every time. So when one of your friends mentioned the party coming up—some frat guy’s birthday, everyone was going, “you have to come, it’s gonna be huge”—you didn’t think much of it at first. Until she added, casually, “Pretty sure Weno’s gonna be there too, so you can’t get us some stuff as well?” That made your heart skip. You played it off, said “yeah, cool” and shrugged, but your brain had already started spiraling. What if you saw him? What if you didn’t? What if he ignored you in front of everyone? What if he didn’t? You told yourself you weren’t going for him. But you still stood in front of your closet longer than usual. You picked a dress—short, tight, something you hadn’t worn before. Simple, but it hugged you in all the right places. You did your makeup with more care than usual, spritzed perfume on your neck, your wrists, let your hair fall soft and full around your shoulders. You didn’t tell anyone why you looked a little extra tonight. But you kind of hoped he’d be there. And you really hoped he’d notice.

The house was already packed by the time you got there—music thumping through the walls, bodies crammed together in every corner, red cups in almost every hand. Lights low, flashing sometimes, music echoing through a speaker in the living room. It smelled like sweat, beer, weed, and cheap cologne. Typical. Your friends disappeared as soon as you walked in, squealing at someone they recognized near the kitchen. You stayed back for a second, just long enough to scan the crowd. Not because you were looking for anyone. Not on purpose, anyway. And then you saw Weno. Leaning against the far wall near the stairs, hoodie half-zipped over a white tank, cargo pants hanging low on his hips, the hem of his boxers peeking a little. He wasn’t dancing. Wasn’t talking loud or laughing or drinking like the rest of them. Just standing there, calm and unreadable, eyes lazily moving through the room like he’d been here a hundred times before. He was talking to someone, dapping them up quick, pulling something from his pocket and handing it off like it was nothing. No one looked twice. Just a quiet exchange, over in seconds. He didn’t try to be subtle, he didn’t have to. People came to him. You stayed near the edge of the crowd, drink in hand, pretending to be more focused on your friends than you were. But your eyes kept drifting back. He looked good. Effortlessly good. And he hadn’t seen you yet. You tried not to look over too often. Tried to focus on your friends and their chaotic conversations, the loud music, the colorful lights. You laughed at jokes that didn’t really register. Nodded along. Sipped water from your cup and told yourself it wasn’t that serious. He wasn’t even talking to you. He was doing his own thing. Still, your gaze kept drifting. Just to see if he was still there. Still. Every time you checked, he was. Some minutes passed like that—just you pretending to be more chill than you felt while your friends chattered and moved toward the crowd. You stayed behind, needing a second to breathe. You slipped into the kitchen, mostly empty now, except for the quiet hum of the fridge and the faint bass vibrating through the floor. You reached for the fridge handle, intent on just grabbing some cold water and hiding out for a bit, but when you turned, he was already there. Standing just inside the doorway. Watching. Your breath caught.

He didn’t say anything at first. His eyes scanned you slowly—top to bottom, unhurried. You felt it like a heatwave, settling low in your stomach. His gaze was darker than usual. Focused, sharp. You dropped your eyes immediately, trying not to fidget. Tugged lightly on the hem of your dress like it might help somehow, like maybe it covered more than it did. You felt your cheeks flush without him even having to speak. You weren’t even sure why you were so nervous. You’d seen him like this before, but something about tonight made it worse. Made you bite your lip without thinking. Made your cheeks burn just from the way he looked at you. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, voice calm and even. A little rough from the smoke, but still warm. You glanced up, heart racing. “Yeah,” you said, “Wasn’t really planning to, but… my friends dragged me.” He smiled a little. “I’m glad you came.” Your breath hitched. You weren’t expecting that. “You look good tonight.” It landed heavy in your chest. No teasing. No smirk. Just him saying it like it was a fact. Your whole body flushed. “Oh,” you said, voice small. “Um. Thanks.” He nodded once, eyes still on you, and then glanced back toward the hallway. “I’m heading up to the balcony for a bit. If you wanna get some air.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Just gave you one last look—soft, lingering—and pushed off the doorframe to leave. “Come find me,” he said, and then he was gone. Leaving you standing in the kitchen, heart racing, lip caught between your teeth, wondering how the hell he always made you feel like this without even trying.

You lingered in the kitchen for a while after he left, pretending to scroll through your phone, half-listening to the party still pulsing through the walls. Your friends had fully disappeared into the crowd by now, probably dancing or taking shots or screaming over music. You told yourself you were just cooling off. Just getting a break from the noise. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at you. The way he said it—You look good tonight. Like it wasn’t up for debate. Like he meant it, and he knew you’d heard him loud and clear. Eventually, you texted some excuse about needing air, said you’d be right back if anyone even cared that you left. You slipped out of the kitchen and made your way upstairs, heartbeat loud in your ears, feeling a little ridiculous and a lot nervous. The hallway was quiet, just some closed doors and the muffled hum of bass below. You found the door to the balcony slightly cracked open, soft breeze pushing in from the night. You pushed it open gently. There he was. He sat on a low, beat-up couch tucked against the wall. One leg stretched out, the other bent, arm thrown over the backrest like he owned the space. Head tilted back just slightly, hoodie slipping off his shoulder, lips parted around the blunt as he took a slow drag. The ember glowed red in the dark, lighting up the sharp cut of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. He looked unfairly good. Like the air belonged to him. Like nothing touched him. He turned his head lazily when he heard the door, eyes finding yours through the smoke. Didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything for a second. Just looked at you, then took another slow hit, exhaling with a quiet sigh before speaking.

“Knew you’d come.” You swallowed hard, heart kicking up again like you hadn’t already spent the last fifteen minutes trying to calm it down. His voice was low, almost lazy, but there was something behind it—something that made your chest tighten a little. You stepped out and quietly shut the door behind you. You sat down beside him, slow and careful, the cushion dipping under your weight. His knee brushed yours just slightly, warm through the fabric. You glanced over, then down again, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I just—I’d rather be up here with you than down there in all that chaos.” That got him to finally look at you. Head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed just a little like he was trying to read deeper than what you were saying out loud. He didn’t answer right away. Just flicked the ash from the blunt, leaned back again, eyes still on you. You breathed in through your nose, steadying yourself. Then softer, barely louder than the wind, you added, “I missed you.” He turned his head fully now, letting the blunt rest between his fingers. The pause that followed wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Warm. His eyes softened just a bit. “Yeah?” he said, voice a little quieter than before. “I missed you too.” It landed in your chest like a weight—like the kind of thing you weren’t sure you were allowed to want, but did anyway. He leaned in a little, not close enough to crowd you, but just enough for his knee to press softly into yours. His eyes didn’t leave your face.

“You been thinking about me?” he asked, voice still calm, but something about it made your stomach twist. You blinked. Heat rushed to your cheeks again, and you had to look away. “…Maybe.” He smiled at that, small and crooked and unfairly attractive. “Same.” And then he took another hit like he hadn’t just wrecked you with a single word. He let the silence hang for a few seconds after that, the blunt burning slow between his fingers, and then he said it quietly, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Come closer.” Your eyes flicked to his, heart stuttering a little. He didn’t look away, didn’t shift or make room, just waited. You hesitated for a second and then moved, scooting over until your leg was pressed fully against his. He reached out casually, like it was second nature, and slid his arm around your shoulders. A soft tug, and suddenly you were leaning into him, your head falling against his chest like it belonged there. You could feel everything. His warmth, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the steady thump of his heart under your cheek. His hoodie smelled like smoke and laundry and him. He brought the blunt to his lips again, took a hit, then lowered it and turned his head slightly toward you.“Want some?” he murmured. You shook your head, just once. “Not right now.” He hummed, didn’t push. Just let his hand stay where it was on your shoulder, thumb brushing idly against your arm. You didn’t say anything after that. Neither did he. You both just sat there, pressed together on the old balcony couch, the party a muffled storm below you, the stars wide and scattered above. You listened to the wind. The soft scratch of fabric when he shifted. The occasional drag and exhale as he smoked. You closed your eyes for a second and just let yourself feel all of it.

He shifted a little, moving his hand lower on your arm, caressing the skin, his breath warm against your hair. You felt his heartbeat quicken just a bit beneath your cheek. The silence between you was thick. to be noticed. You glanced up at him, your eyes catching his in the dim light. There was something softer there now. Something unspoken, but heavy. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moved to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, fingers lingering near your temple. Your breath hitched. He leaned down just a little, voice low and casual, “You’re beautiful.” You swallowed, barely able to meet his gaze as your face flushed again. Then, just like that, he closed the tiny gap between you. His lips found yours slow and gentle, before deepening the kiss, like he’d been wanting to do this all night. You melted into him, your hand slowly reaching up to rest on his chest as the world around you faded. It’s not gentle anymore, it’s urgent, needy. His hand tightens in your hair, pulling you closer as his tongue slides against yours, deep and demanding. You whimper softly, the sound lost in the press of his mouth, your body melting into his. He pulls back just enough to whisper in your ear, voice husky, “Wanna get out of here? I’ve got my car nearby.” Your heart pounds so hard you’re sure he can hear it. You just nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, breath catching again as he wraps his arm tighter around you.

He doesn’t rush you, just laces his fingers through yours, warm and firm, and gives your hand a gentle tug. You follow without thinking, legs shaky as you leave the balcony behind and slip back into the quiet hallway. The party feels distant now, like the world narrowed down to just him, the weight of his hand in yours, the aftertaste of his kiss still lingering on your lips. The walk to his car is quiet, but not awkward. When he unlocks the door and slides into the driver’s seat, you hesitate for half a second before slipping in beside him. The doors shut with a soft thud, sealing you both inside the low, warm hum of the vehicle. He leans back, legs stretched out, calm like always, but there’s a heat behind his eyes when he looks at you. A spark still flickering from earlier. “I’m gonna roll real quick,” he murmurs, pulling out his tray and grinder from the center console like it’s second nature. You nod, watching him work—his fingers nimble, methodical, the lighter’s flame briefly illuminating his face when he brings the blunt to his lips. The car fills with the earthy scent of smoke, and his head tilts back slightly as he exhales, half-lidded. He looks so fucking fine like this, bathed in shadows and smoke, hoodie loose around his collarbones, the faint red glow of the blunt lighting up his lips. Then he turns his head toward you again and you don’t even get the chance to fully catch your breath before he leans in again, free hand finding your cheek as he kisses you.

The smoke still lingers on his breath, and you melt into it, moaning softly into his mouth as his tongue slides against yours. His fingers are on your thigh, squeezing gently as he pulls you closer. The kiss turns messier, full of need, soft gasps and low groans echoing through the car. Your hand grips his hoodie low, holding on like you might fall apart if you let go. He pulls back only enough to whisper, breath ghosting over your lips, “Could do this all night.” Then his mouth is on yours again. More heat, more tongue, more breathless little noises spilling from your lips as your body starts to tremble in his hands. Without breaking the kiss, his hands move, one sliding up your thigh, the other settling on your waist. “C’mere,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice low but soft. You barely register what he means until his hands are guiding you, pulling you gently, firmly, right onto his lap. One leg at a time, knees sinking into the seat on either side of him, hands braced on his shoulders, your dress hiking up as you settle onto him, straddling him, face to face. He leans back just enough to look at you, eyes hooded, red from the weed, blunt still between his fingers. One of his hands slides up your side, fingers grazing your waist and ribs over the thin fabric of your dress. He takes his time with it, like he’s learning your shape. Your breath stutters as his hand travels higher, stopping just under your arm. He brings the blunt to his lips again, takes a long, slow hit, his chest rising beneath you, and then leans in close. His free hand curves around the back of your neck, guiding your face closer to his. You part your lips on instinct, and he exhales the smoke right into your mouth, warm and slow, curling over your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe it in, heart thudding, and then he kisses you. Kisses you like he’s taking the air right back from your lungs.

Your breath catches when you feel his hands slide down, beneath the hem of your dress. He pushes it up slowly, bunching the fabric around your waist until the cool air hits your thighs. You shift slightly, nervous, thighs tightening around his hips as he exposes more of you. He doesn’t say anything, just stares for a second, eyes flicking down to where your panties are now visible, his palms firm on the back of your thighs. “Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. Then he leans forward, mouth finding your neck, and everything gets messier after that. He kisses down the side of your throat, open, warm, wet, his lips dragging along the skin, tongue flicking against your pulse point, teeth grazing just enough to make your hips twitch against him. You whimper quietly, trying to stay still, but he’s already pulling you closer with both hands, guiding your body into his like he knows exactly what you need. You tilt your head for him without thinking, shy sounds escaping your mouth as he works his way up to your jaw, then down again, kissing a little rougher now. “Weno…” you whisper, voice breaking around his name. “Shh,” he murmurs, his voice low against your skin. “You’re okay.” Your arms wrap around his shoulders instinctively, face burning as you shift in his lap, unintentionally grinding down just slightly. His reaction is immediate, a quiet groan right into your neck, his hands tightening on your hips. “Just like that,” he breathes.

Your hips grind down harder without thinking, breath coming out in shaky gasps as the friction starts to feel almost too good. His hands slip under the back of your dress, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass, guiding your movement like he needs it just as bad. You’re whimpering into the heated space between you, clinging to his hoodie, your body trembling slightly with every slow drag of your hips over his. Your panties are soaked. His pants are straining. The windows are fogging up, and the whole car smells like weed, sweat, and heat. He tilts his head, catching your mouth again in another deep, tongue-heavy kiss, like he can’t stop tasting you. His hand slides up your waist, grazing under the curve of your chest over the thin fabric of your dress, and you shudder, moaning softly into his mouth. Then he pulls back, just a little, resting his forehead against yours as both of you try to breathe. “Fuck,” he whispers, chest rising and falling beneath you. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” You blink at him, dazed, lips swollen and barely parted, still trying to catch your breath. He looks at you for a long second, hands still on your waist, grounding you. “I don’t wanna do this in the car,” he says, voice rough. “You deserve better than that.” Your breath hitches, heat flaring even higher at how serious he sounds. “Wanna go to my place?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your side. You nod slowly, shy but needy, your fingers curling in the collar of his shirt, a little scared to let go. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Okay.” He kisses you once more, soft and sweet, before pulling back just enough to reach for the keys.

The door shut with a quiet click, sealing you into the warmth of his place. It was dark, mostly, just the glow of a streetlamp slipping through the blinds, casting faint lines across the floor. Neither of you spoke. You turned slightly, lips parting like you might say something, but he was already reaching for you. His hands found your waist in the dark, pulling you in with no hesitation, and his mouth was on yours before you could even breathe. Kissing you hungrily, deep and needy. Everything he hadn’t said tonight was pouring out of him all at once, into the way he held you, the way his lips moved over yours. His grip was firm, hands splayed over your hips, your back arching into him as you kissed him back just as desperately. He walked you backwards without breaking the kiss, slow, steady steps through the short hallway, lips never leaving yours. You barely registered the corners of the space or how you ended up where you did until the back of your knees hit something soft. And then he was lowering you onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath you, and your breath caught as he hovered above you, eyes dark and steady on yours. Then, without a word, he zipped down his hoodie and took it off. Now just in a white tank, it clung to his frame in all the right places, the cut of his collarbone visible, shoulders broad and sharp under the light. He looked down at you for a second longer, breathing hard, gaze lingering on your face like he couldn’t believe you were really there. Then he leaned down, kissing you again, less rushed, but just as intense. His hands slid up your sides, fingertips ghosting over the fabric of your dress, moving deliberately, memorizing the shape of you. You whimpered softly into his mouth, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt. He pulled back for a second, eyes flicking between yours, voice low and wrecked. “You good?” he asked, forehead brushing yours. You nodded, cheeks burning, lips swollen already. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”

He didn’t wait long after your answer. His mouth moved to your neck, warm and open, lips brushing your skin before he started kissing, slow, deliberate, dragging his tongue gently along the curve of your throat. You gasped, breath hitching as he sucked softly at a spot just below your jaw. Then again, a little lower. Your hips twitched beneath him when you felt his teeth graze you. “Weno—” you whispered, but it came out as more of a breath than a word. “You’re so pretty” he murmured, voice barely there, like he was talking to himself. “Always are.” His hand moved down slowly, slipping over your waist and along the outside of your thigh before sliding back up under the hem of your dress. His touch was patient, teasing, he didn’t rush. Just let his fingertips brush along the top of your thigh, higher and higher until they were tracing the edge of your panties. He pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side, slowly, and let his fingers slide between your folds, touching your bare heat. You gasped, head tilting back into the pillow, lips parting in a silent moan. “Shit,” he whispered, breath warm against your collarbone. “So soaked f’me, baby.” Your cheeks burned, thighs tensing slightly around his hand. He kissed the hollow of your throat, then lower, just above your chest, tongue wet and warm as his fingers began to move—slow circles at first, barely-there pressure that made you squirm beneath him. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady like he could feel how close you already were, how much you wanted him. “You’re so sensitive,” he muttered, voice deep and low, teeth grazing your skin as he kissed up to your ear.

You whimpered his name, hips grinding into his hand without meaning to. His fingers never stopped moving, dragging slick circles against your clit as he kept his mouth on your neck. Every kiss felt more urgent, but not rushed. It wasn’t just lust. It was something else. Something heavier. And then he leaned up, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think about you all the time,” he murmured, breath warm, fingers still teasing between your thighs. “Even when I’m not supposed to. Even when I try not to.” Your heart flipped, aching at how raw it sounded coming from him. “I don’t even think you know what you do to me,” he continued, a soft kiss behind your ear. “How long I’ve wanted you like this. Letting me touch you.” The words hit harder than anything else had—deeper than the kisses, deeper than his touch. Your chest tightened, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers slid into his hair, pulling him down until your lips met again. Your moans melted into his mouth, the rhythm of his fingers picking up as your hips rolled up into his hand. His other hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider for him.

And then, without warning, he shifted his hand lower, deeper. Your lips parted in a quiet gasp as he slid one finger inside you, slow and careful. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, already aching from how worked up you were, how long he’d been teasing. He didn’t wait long before easing in a second finger, stretching you just a little more. His movements were smooth, curling them up inside you just right, drawing out whiny, breathless little sounds from your throat you couldn’t hold back. You buried your face in his shoulder, hands gripping his bicep, your hips rocking involuntarily into every slow thrust of his fingers. He moved deep and steady, his palm pressing into you, thumb dragging lazy circles over your clit in rhythm. He kept moving inside you, slow and deep, curling just right. You were so close, the tension winding tighter and tighter in your stomach, breath catching with every stroke. But just as your legs began to shake, just as your hips bucked up into his hand with a quiet, desperate moan—he pulled out. You whined at the loss, hips stuttering forward instinctively, chasing the friction. “Weno…” “I know,” he murmured, breathless himself, voice thick with need. “I know, baby.” He leaned back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere to the side. The soft light coming through the cracked door hit his chest just right—shoulders broad, abs toned, skin flushed and warm. His chain shifted against his skin when he moved.

Then he was reaching for you again, hands gentle. “Can I?” he asked, fingers brushing the hem of your dress. You nodded, cheeks hot, eyes wide and dazed. “Y-Yeah” He pulled it up slowly, lifting it over your head. His eyes dropped to your body as it was revealed to him—bare chest, soft skin, rising and falling with every shaky breath. He leaned his mouth to your nipple, giving it a soft suck while sliding your panties down your legs, dragging his hands along your thighs as he did. Then he moved lower. He settled between your legs like he belonged there, hands spreading your thighs gently, thumbs brushing along the inside. You whimpered, body already arching at the sight of him down there, the feel of his breath ghosting over your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than anything, eyes locked on your soaked center. And then he leaned in. His tongue was warm, slow, one long, deliberate lick up your folds that made your back arch off the bed. Then again, this time with more pressure, more intent. His mouth locked over your clit, sucking softly before he flattened his tongue and circled it. You gasped, hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling as your thighs tried to close around his head. He just groaned into you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer, keeping you wide open for him. The sounds—wet, messy, sinful—filled the room along with your breathy moans, soft whimpers, the quiet creak of the mattress beneath you.

He didn’t stop. His tongue moved with purpose, lapping, circling, flicking. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but moan, soft and desperate, your hips twitching with every stroke of his tongue. And then you felt his hand again. Sliding up the inside of your thigh, fingers trailing through your slick folds before one dipped inside you, curling instantly. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry. He added a second immediately, stretching you and pumping into you while his mouth never left your clit. “Weno—fuck,” you whimpered, body jolting as he curled his fingers just right. Your walls clenched around him, needy and tight. His groan vibrated through you when he felt it. His tongue pressed harder, fingers pumping deep and slow—each drag of his knuckles making your toes curl. Your moans got higher, breathier, as your body trembled under his touch. “You close, baby?” he muttered against your clit, fingers never slowing. “Wanna feel you cum on my fuckin’ fingers.” You nodded, frantic, too far gone to speak. Your back arched, thighs shaking as he held you open, ruined you with his mouth, pushed his fingers deep inside you until the heat building in your stomach finally snapped. You came hard, legs trembling, hips stuttering, a loud moan spilling from your lips as everything clenched and pulsed around him. Fingers still working you gently through it while his tongue slowed, easing the intensity but never leaving you empty. Weno pressed one last kiss to your thigh, lips lingering as he pulled his fingers from you slowly, savoring the way your body jolted at the loss. He sat back on his heels, chest rising and falling a little faster now, eyes heavy as they dragged up your body.

You watched, dazed, flushed, and breathless as he reached for the waistband of his cargos, unbuttoning and sliding them down. They hit the floor with a quiet thud, leaving him in just his boxers—black, stretched tight over the obvious bulge straining against the fabric. He palmed it slowly, eyes still fixed on you, thumb pressing down over the thick outline like it ached. You squirmed beneath him, breath catching again when he leaned forward, caging you in with his arms. He kissed you slow and deep, tongue sliding over yours, moaning into your mouth. Then he reached between you and pushed his boxers down just enough to free himself, hissing softly when his length sprang free and brushed against your thigh. “You still good?” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, his thumb caressing your cheek. You nodded, voice caught in your throat. “Yeah… I want you.” That was all he needed. He reached down, guiding himself to your entrance, dragging the tip through your slick folds, teasing you both with the heat of it. His hand found your waist again, grounding you as he pushed in slowly—inch by inch, thick and hot and stretching you just right. You gasped, nails digging into his biceps, body arching as he filled you completely.“Fuck,” he breathed out against your mouth, kissing you again as he bottomed out. “So tight. So good.” He didn’t move right away. Just stayed there, buried deep, letting you adjust while he pressed soft kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your lips. His hands smoothed over your sides, grounding you. And then he started to move.

He started slow and deep, rolling thrusts that dragged every inch of him along your walls. Your body clung to him, welcoming each stroke like it had been waiting, aching, for this exact moment. His hands moved down your sides, palms warm and firm, before sliding under your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist. The new angle made you gasp, your head falling back into the pillow as he sank even deeper. “That’s it,” he whispered, voice all breath and gravel, “So fucking perfect like this.” You whimpered, lips parting with every slow rock of his hips, every soft press of his chest to yours. One of his hands slipped under your back, pulling you closer, the other traveling to cup your breast, squeezing gently, thumb circling your nipple. “Love your body,” he murmured against your skin, lips brushing your collarbone. “Every inch. All mine now, yeah?” You could only nod, breath shaky, heart pounding. He moved again—long, deep thrusts that made your thighs tremble around him, that had you clinging tighter to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself in his touch. “So fuckin’ good,” he groaned, kissing your neck, “Fuck—look at how you take me.” He slid his hand down to your ass, gripping it tightly, pulling you up into each thrust, letting you feel just how hard he was holding back. You cried out softly, tears blurring your vision as the heat coiled tighter and tighter inside you. You felt stretched, full…loved. Every part of him was on you, in you, his lips, his hands, his voice. He slowed for just a second, chest heaving as he looked down at you.

His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your lip as he whispered, “No one’s ever made me feel like this.” You blinked, another tear slipping free. He caught it with a kiss. He pushed in deep again, groaning low as your body clenched around him. Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips parted in a sob, overwhelmed. The pleasure, the emotion—it was too much, and not enough. You gasped out his name, voice broken, tears spilling freely now. “You’re doin’ so good,” he breathed, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So good for me. You feel so fuckin’ good—can’t get enough of you, baby.” He cupped your breast again, his other hand squeezing your ass as he rocked deeper, firmer, filling you completely with every thrust. The mattress creaked beneath you, skin slapping, breathy moans and whimpers. He lift your legs higher, folding them up toward your chest as his hands slid beneath your knees, guiding you open. His body shifted with yours, hovering close, his chest pressing to yours as he settled into the new position. You were utterly vulnerable, and so full. “Fuck,” he breathed as he pushed back in—deeper, impossibly deep, the new angle hitting something inside you that made your mouth fall open in a silent gasp. Your thighs trembled against his sides, your arms wrapping tight around his shoulders as he rocked into you again, slow and hard. His face was right above yours, eyes dark, mouth parted, breath hot on your cheek. His forehead pressed to yours. You pulled him down, fingers tangling in his hair, and kissed him hard, messy, open-mouthed, desperate. You sobbed into the kiss, the pleasure blurring everything, making your whole body feel like it was about to break apart in the best way.

He moaned against your mouth, thrusts picking up just slightly, deeper and deeper, hips pressing you into the mattress. One of his hands cradled your cheek as the other gripped under your thigh, holding you open for him while his body kept driving into yours, filling you perfectly. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, kissing along your jaw between gasps. “So good for me, baby… fuck.” Your body clenched tight around him, your moans turning into cries as your nails dug into his back. “Weno— I’m close, I—please,” you gasped, barely able to form the words through the sobs that kept catching in your throat. “I got you,” he panted, hips grinding down, pace relentless now. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you.” It only took another stroke. One more hit just right, and you shattered. Your second orgasm came, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your back arched, tears slipping down your cheeks as you sobbed his name, legs shaking violently around him. You clung to him like he was the only thing tethering you to earth. “Shit—baby—fuck—” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut as your body pulsed around him. “So good. So fucking good.” He barely lasted another few thrusts before he was pulling out quickly, stroking himself through the last moments, his body jerking forward with a final moan as he spilled across your stomach, thick and warm. He collapsed onto his forearms above you, forehead to yours again, breath ragged, lips ghosting yours.

He was still above you, body trembling slightly as he caught his breath, his lips brushing yours in soft, lingering kisses that felt more like confessions than touches. You were trying to breathe too, heart racing, chest rising and falling as your mind spun. Every nerve in your body was still alive, aching with how full he made you feel—physically, emotionally, all of it. And yet, even in the quiet after, something heavy sat in your chest. You swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting at his sides, your eyes darting everywhere but his face. You could feel it pressing against your tongue—those words—so big and so terrifying, but so real. Too real to keep inside. “Weno…?” you whispered, voice barely audible. He blinked down at you, soft and hazy from the afterglow. “Yeah, baby?” Your lip trembled as you looked up at him, wide-eyed and afraid. “I… I think I’m in love with you.” The second the words left your mouth, your stomach dropped. You felt exposed, like you’d stripped yourself bare in a whole new way. Your eyes filled with panic—what if he didn’t feel the same? What if this ruined everything? “I—I’m sorry,” you added quickly, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to ruin it, I just—fuck, I don’t know, I just feel so much and I couldn’t keep it in and—” He cut you off with a kiss. Not a soft one, not a careful one, but deep, sure. His hand cupped your face as he leaned into you, kissing you like he needed to feel every word you’d just said on his tongue.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed beneath your eye, catching the little tear that had escaped down your cheek. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he whispered. “You could never ruin anything.” Your heart fluttered painfully. “I’ve been in love with you,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Since before I even knew what to call it. You don’t scare me, baby. You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense.” He kissed you again, tender. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you close until your body was pressed to his, skin to skin, and you could barely breathe from how tight he held you. You buried your face in his neck, arms tucked between your chests, your heart pounding against his. The silence that followed was heavy with warmth—safe, soft. Eventually, he shifted just enough to reach for the blunt on his nightstand, lighting it with a quiet flick of his lighter. The glow lit up his face in soft orange as he took a long drag, exhaling with a sigh, head tilted back slightly. You curled into him, cheek pressed to his chest, ear catching the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His arm came around you instinctively, holding you tighter, and his hand drifted lazily into your hair, fingers combing through the strands. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. He held you like he was never letting go.

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[ringtaez]

what do u think yuma would be like as a boyfriend ? 👀👀👀👀

tags: afab reader, yuma is teasing fluffball but also loves to fuck your brains out warning tags: cursing, degradation, public sex? length: 1.1k words note from author: i think about this daily and i'm so happy i finally get to word vomit about this without being worried whether this reads well or not lmao. thank you for the ask!

i think he'd be a tease and would relish in the way you'd react. every time you respond to his teasing, he'd only be encouraged to do it more often.

would definitely nudge you away when you try to initiate skinship or hugs but eventually admits defeat and curls into you (that recent harua and yuma clip ahem). quietly screams 'yamero' when you crawl up on him for cuddles but secretly loves having you all over him.

as much as he says he doesn't like skinship, will often plant his face onto your shoulder and into your neck from behind, usually when he's just woken up or has just come home from a long, tiring day. if you happen to be sitting, will put his arms over your shoulders and dig his nose into your hair. will stay there for a while, softly swaying your body along with his.

smirks whenever your collarbone or shoulder is exposed from under your shirt (his shirts that you repossessed). would frequently dip his hand under the bottom of your shirt to rest his warm palms on your hips, waist, lower back, or ass (if he feelin' extra touchy). caresses your skin so softly it tickles sometimes.

he always smells good. he's not too into perfumes and fragrances but he has a regular go-to scent rotation. his soft, luscious locks also need active attention and care so he regularly uses hair serums and oils (that smell incredible).

his voice is pretty, no one would ever argue against that, but his voice when he's in bed, next to you, halfway between asleep and awake? actual heaven. you don't think you've ever heard anyone so pretty, husky, and sweet at the same time. you wouldn't be surprised if you woke up one day and his drool turned into real honey. oh and yeah, baby drools a little when he's really tired. poor kitten.

would share his accessories with you— be it earrings, necklaces, glasses, all of it's yours to try on and wear out. would feel so giddy whenever he sees you with one of his earrings and appear next to you in a blink of an eye to tease (and fawn over) you.

loves watching movies and shows with you on the couch or in bed cuddled together under a blanket and pillows. would prepare snacks for both of you to munch on but neither of you would bother for refills if they ran out midway through just because both of you are lazy couch potatoes.

bites you. that's it. he bites you just barely enough to leave an indentation but never enough to break skin. his favorite spot to do so is either your ear or right underneath it, behind your jaw. it kinda surprised you the first time he did it but you quickly fell in love with how soft his lips were and how warm his breath felt against your skin. licks all the spots he's bitten afterwards.

smut -

his one and only goal in bed is to make you as loud as possible. doesn't matter if he's topping or bottom. will do whatever's in his ability to make you moan, sob, scream, and whimper progressively louder the longer you two have at it.

he bites and nips you everywhere. your boobs, stomach, thighs, neck— anywhere his mouth can reach, it's probably already been bitten at least once.

rests his tongue flat on your clit without moving it just to tease you. he wants to devour you just as much as you want him to but he'd never give up the chance to rile you up a little first. would kiss down your body and purposely avoid your nipples, loving the sound of your whines and the way your body pushes itself against his in hopes of receiving more attention.

the baby likes choking. giving and receiving. he'd crawl his hand up slowly before wrapping his fingers around your throat, his hips already performing at a punishing pace into your cunt. his other hand probably gripped tightly onto your hip, pulling your body down to match his thrusts. when you're on top of him, he holds your hips with both hands, helping you bounce on his cock while you feel the soft but damp and sweaty skin of his neck before clawing at it softly with your fingers, your nails slightly digging into his skin. afterwards, both of your necks probably have red, finger-shaped marks to a certain degree.

his eyes are so pretty. and when he gives you that pointed look (yk which one I'm talking about. the one where he angles his head down a little and stares at you with his pretty kitty eyes.), you instantly fall apart under his gaze. you'd let him do whatever he wanted to you. this look usually made its appearance when you'd come home later than usual or if you hadn't responded to his messages. and this look is usually paired with him bending you over the counter and fucking you mindless on the cool, marble tile. would mark up your ass, too. squeezes your ass cheeks relentlessly as he's ramming into your from behind. spreads them open with his large hands sometimes to get a better view of his dick tearing into your pussy.

your pretty, little pussy. if he didn't have a dick, his mouth would be latched onto your cunt 24/7. from the back, the front, hell, from the side even, he'd eat you out like a man starved. once his tongue was in you, it'd stay in there for at least an entire hour. all whilst you progressively lose all strength and stability in your knees as he holds you up against a wall, sometimes in front of a mirror so you could watch yourself unravel from his touch. his lips are so plump and red after, tasting yourself on him when you inevitably give in to the urge and slam your lips on his.

loves, LOVES fucking you somewhere risky. gets off on your muffled moans when you hear someone walk by, during which he'd slow his thrusts down to stay quiet but would compensate by ramming into you so hard and deep you saw stars every time he pushed his dick back inside you. mutters the filthiest curses and words of degradation into your ear. "you like that, huh?" "you're so wet already." "fuck, you're so tight." "better be quiet, love. wouldn't want people finding out you're a slut for my dick." "did you just clench from that?" "my dirty little cum slut." would later walk out of the closet with you like nothing happened, his dick still wet from your slick.

on days when he was extra horny, he'd make you finger yourself while he watched, leaning back and stroking his own dick. right before he came, he'd push his dick into you and give you a couple thrusts before painting your insides white with his cum.

author's notes: I believe I've gone a little off the deep end with this one. just wanted to reply to the ask with a couple paragraphs but look at where we're at now... am still working on other pieces btw, so stay tuned!

[ringtaez]

thinking abt kitty hybrid yuma x bunny hybrid reader....

i just need yuma rly bad tbh but maybe i'll try n get smth out abt this... switch x switch too Yes Yesss

[ringtaez]

tsanie bp!!!!!

oh im so up.... i apologize for the person i become when boypussy is brought up || warnings: MDNI, overstim, pussy slapping, mild dacryphilia, squirting...

bp!taesan who Loves when you overstimulate him. whether it be with your mouth, fingers, cock, dildo, strap, all of the above; doesn't matter. he wants you to make him sob as you pull out orgasm after orgasm out of him.

bp!taesan who needs clit stimulation to cum. he has such a pretty pussy too 💔 you like to see his clit all swollen after you're done playing with him. and on that note...

bp!taesan who loves when you take pics of his pussy all swollen after you're done. he just loves being used and loves seeing the marks you leave all over his thighs too. (i hc that taesan Loves nude/lewd pics...)

bp!taesan who send you vids of him playing with himself when he's feeling needy/bratty. he knows how much seeing his pretty pussy and hearing his moans drives you insane.

bp!taesan who likes to feel stretched out and full of you. when you push a finger in, not even seconds later, he's greedily begging for more. pussy clenching around your fingers when you call him a greedy lil slut.

bp!taesan who looooves pussy slapping. he gets so wet and squirmy! ears welling up with tears when you just chuckled at him and pin his thighs down, slapping his clit again and again.

bp!taesan who gets shy and a lil embarrassed when you make him squirt..... face and ears turning red but hole clenching as he watches you lick his essence off your fingers....

[ringtaez]

hybrid pain slut taesan who purrs when you're rough/mean with him...

his tail swishing happily and ears twitching when you sink your teeth into his skin hard enough to leave indents.

jerking him off and his purrs rumbling through his body as he whines for you to let him cum after you deny him of his orgasm again and again and again.

squeezing the base of his cock til his back is arching off the bed, tail twitching, and high-pitched, pathetic cries are leaving his lips.

[ringtaez]

[ringtaez]

SKZ CONCERT HELL YEA!!!!! ❤️🖤

i had so much fun, i miss it already 😭😭

their energy is I N S A N E!!!!!

some pics & vids i took utc <3

[ringtaez]

guys i can't believe i essentially abandoned this... maybe i'll come back to it 😞😞😞

03z drabble snippet ꩜ .ᐟ

myungjae comes in later ;P

[ringtaez]

i need to write a self indulgent boypussy reader fic... /hj

the question is Who i'd write it with... maybe shotaro

[ringtaez]

update for every1 who cares but i think i may be writing for riize and &team here #verysoon....

[ringtaez]

taesan x gn!reader | warnings: masturbation (m), needy taesan, mentions of nudes, i think that's all...

bf!taesan sending you pics and vids when he misses you. sometimes they're innocent, just a selfie while he's on break or a pic of whatever he's doing at the moment. a message reading "miss u <3" or "thinking abt u" following it.

but sometimes, when he's feeling more needy, he sends more risqué pics or vids. they probably start off as simple thirst traps, a mirror selfie of him in a tank top that shows off his collarbones as he's leant back in his seat. or pics where his face is hardly showing; just shots of his hoodie falling off his shoulders and his lips slightly parted. he knows it always gets you going.

you're always quick to respond, telling him you miss him too usually or expressing the things you wanna do to and with him if you're in a particularly needy mood yourself. you know that only makes it worse though.

his next message doesn't surprise you, you can always tell when he's horny and wants attention. the screen of the video is completely black but when you click on it, headphones connected in the comfort of your own bedroom, you hear the small sighs leaving your boyfriend's mouth immediately.

you can faintly make out the sound of his hand moving over his length, soft squelching noises probably coming from the way his tip leaks. you can almost see it; his head tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted as his hand works himself. he's whimpering now, your name falling breathily from his lips. you can feel your arousal spiking when you hear the way he moans and his hand speeds up. taesan's not always very vocal, you usually being the noisier one of the two, but when he's needy like this he can't help it.

when he orgasms, he lets out a whiny moan of your name that causes you to clench around nothing. the last thing you hear is a small whisper of "miss you, baby" before the video ends.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

very short lil blurb bc i have not stopped thinking abt those pics since he posted them.... 😵‍💫 (not proofread)

[ringtaez]

BABY BLUE — PARK SUNGHO

WC: 7.7k(woah?)

PAIRING: Sungho x fem!reader

WARNINGS: bestfriend!virgin!sub!sungho. Hint at dom!Sungho at the end. POCKET PUSSY (^-^). Unprotected sex. Guided masturbation(You help him/kinda take over?helped masturbation?). Watched masturbation(?). Oral(F receiving). CREAMPIE(^-^). Virginity loss(M). Cum eating(M). Never proofread/edited(who’s surprised). nicknames(Yeppi, Sung, Sungie), F2L type beat towards the end.

A/N: think of that ^ Sungho when you read this🙂‍↕️. Y’all already know idk what half the shit I write about is ACTUALLY called you guys get the gist tho… need him so bad…WE NEED MORE SUNGHO SMUT

You groaned for what felt like the millionth time, shutting your laptop closed, leaning back, and letting your head plop on the pillow behind you. Sungho lets out an annoyed scoff, nudging your knee once again to pay attention.

“Seriously Sungho,” You whine out, kicking his knee with your foot. “Can’t we just take a break? My brain is fried. I can't even comprehend what you’re saying!”

“We’ve only been studying for thirty minutes.” Sungho deadpans, pulling you up by your arm. “How to do expect

To pass Bio if you can’t even look at the book for ten minutes and your computer for twenty.”

You look at him with a blank expression, his eyes quivering behind his round frames at the stare.

He finally lets out a laugh and softly shoves your shoulder, “If this is your way of distracting me it’s not working.”

You let out a loud groan, slightly pouting as you open back up your computer pressing on the space bar to wake it up. You wait a couple of seconds, tapping against it when it doesn’t. Then you press the power button, holding it for a few seconds before letting it go. You grow frustrated with the blank screen, your face turning into a scowl as you tap on the bar multiple times. The noise annoys Sungho, rolling his eyes and glancing over to see your face upset and your fingers tapping.

“Are you serious right now?”

“W-What?” You sputter out, in disbelief that he’s blaming this on you. “How is it my fault it won’t turn on?”

“Maybe if you charged it last night like I reminded you? Over text. The text you saw!” He scolds tapping his pencil on his book impatiently.

“Whatever,” You mumble, looking around the room for your bag only to see it near his door, across the room. “Do you have a charger? My bag’s too far.”

He scoffs loudly, now it’s his turn to look at you in disbelief, “You have to be joking… it’s in the last drawer.” He motions to the small bedside drawer he has.

You lean over his bed, peeking over the edge and pulling the drawer open slightly, shoving your hand in to feel for a cord. You grumble to yourself at the large amount of cords you feel, opting to pull it open all the way to pull out the one you need.

What you expected to see was a pile of cords, yes. What you didn’t expect to see was a pocket pussy hidden in the back.

“Damn Sungho!” You look back at him with a large smile, wiggling your eyebrows teasingly. “Didn’t know you were a freak!”

He looks up at you confused, finger coming up to push the frames that were threatening to fall off of his nose. You turn back to the item, grabbing it from the base and taking it out to show you.

“Pocket pussy huh?” You tease sitting back up with it still in your hand, you look at the opening seeing specks of dried cum still on it.

His eyes widen and his face turns red, he frantically shakes his head ‘no’, before he lunges over to snatch it out of your hand while you’re looking at it. He shoves in under the blue knitted sweater he had on, his face redder than before spreading the pink color to his neck and under the sweater.

“It’s not what it looks like!” He says quickly watching as you lean back on your elbows. “I swear it’s not what it looks like!”

“What? Used?” You laugh, raising an eyebrow at him. “Looks pretty busted to me! Must be an avid user huh?”

He trips over his words, speaking so quickly that you can’t even understand what he’s saying while you watch as his eyes water slightly. Though you’re not sure if he does either.

You let out a loud laugh, sitting up again and smacking his knee, “Sungho I’m joking! I don’t care what you do with your fake pussy.”

He goes quiet as you laugh, eyes still watering and threatening to spill tears as he looks at you with a pout, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think, tapping a finger on your chin as you lean closer to him. You cause panic in him with the way you’re taking too long to agree. “I won’t!”

He sighs in relief, closing his eyes, “Thank you so much ohmygod thank y-“

“IF!” You interrupt, forcing his eyes to widen again and snapping his head towards you. “If we take a break.”

“We can take as many breaks as you want just please don’t-“

“And show me how you use it.”

His mouth falls open, a confused sound falling out as he watches you shut the books and laptops before gathering them, and placing them on the bedside drawers out of the way.

“Oh come on, Yeppi!” You take his hand in yours, pulling him towards his pillow. He feels tingles running down his spine at the nickname you called him, a nickname that became commonly used in your friend group because of Jaehyun. “We have a deal, right? I won’t tell anyone and you show me? You won’t even notice I’m there!”

You snapped him out of his thoughts when you lay on your side, one arm resting on your hip while your other props your head up. His eyes rake over your body, as much as he doesn’t want to admit, you were so damn attractive in his eyes. A girl he’d always thought of at night was suddenly asking him to show her how he uses a sex toy.

God he could already feel his blood rushing south.

“Promise?” He whispers, sticking out his pinky towards you.

You wrap your pinky around his tightly, eyes lightening up before saying, “I swear on everything, my Yeppi.”

It’s silent between you two as he gulps, letting out a sigh before crawling over to where you were. The toy was still under his shirt as he allowed his back to plop against the mattress, head hitting the pillow before gulping again.

He can feel your eager eyes on him as you wait for him to make a move, not wanting to pressure him. He glances towards your direction making eye contact with you as you let out a giggle.

“You won’t judge right?” He asks softly, tilting his head to the side with a pout.

You feel your heart pounding in your chest, unable to handle how cute he looks despite the situation you put him in. Not realizing your mouth blurted out all of those words until now. His head was turning to the side to look directly at you, his soft pink bottom lip jutting out, and his eyes glossy and sparkling. His hair messily sprawled out around his head, yet he looked so perfect. The soft blue sweater against his pale skin made him look heavenly with everything else. The round frames are still resting on his nose but going slightly crooked from the pressure on one side.

“Y/n?” You're pulled out of your admiration for him with his whisper.

You nod, “I won’t judge you Sungie.”

He smiles softly before giving you a soft nod, a small gasp falling from his lips as you place a soft kiss on his cheek. It’s a normal occurrence that happens between you and everyone in the friend group, all feeling comfortable enough to give hugs and kisses on the cheeks or foreheads. But yet he still felt sparks of electricity running through him, it should've been expected, but it still made his body jolt.

He nods again, turning his head away to look down at his pants, seeing an obvious tent that you don’t dare to comment on but he knows you saw with the small laugh you let out.

His shaky hands pull the toy out from underneath his knitted sweater and place it next to him. Pulling up the sweater softly to expose just his stomach before they go down to undo the button on his jeans. He unzips his pants, pushing them down all the way and kicking them off to the side of the bed. Sungho lets out a small sigh at the relief of some pressure. He takes note of how his hard-on is even more obvious but doesn’t want to acknowledge how he’s harder than usual, veins pulsing with want.

His eyes flutter shut when he wraps his hand around himself over his briefs, hand softly squeezing himself as he gives himself a few pumps before digging his palm against his tip.

A small whine comes out from him but he quickly shuts up and mutters, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, make all the noises you want Sungie, be as loud as you want.”

He nods his head, “U-usually I’m still getting myself hard b-but you know…” He clears his throat. “After this I u-uh, take it out.”

He glances over at you in time to see you biting your lip, eager to see him bare. He closes his eyes as he pushes them down, dragging his dick along with them and hissing at the material rubbing against his leaking tip. His eyes are still closed as his cock springs up and lets out a lewd noise when it slaps against his stomach, but despite that, he doesn’t miss the gasp that comes out of you. Sungho pushes them down all the way, muttering something about how he doesn’t like having clothes on when he does it.

Pretty was the one word you could use to describe his dick, long with the perfect amount of girth, a vein running up from the base and ending under his mushroom tip. His shaft is a couple of tones darker than his skin. His tip is a pretty shade of pink, matching his lips while it dribbles precum onto his pale stomach.

His hands go to take off the sweater that’s now sticking to his skin, his eyes flinching open when he feels your hand hold onto his.

“Can I-“ you pause to swallow your spit that’s threatening to drool out. “Can I help you take it off?”

He looks at you in shock. He doesn’t realize how long he is staring until you slowly retract your hand, a soft blush creeping onto your face thinking you went too far.

“No! Please!” He quickly says holding onto your hand, startling you with his sudden outburst. He clears his throat softly, “I-I meant, uh… please. Help me.”

You give him a small smile as you sit up, your hands going to his sides, your hand sneaking under the sweater while the fabric stays put between your thumbs and index fingers. You feel his body shiver, goosebumps leaving behind a trail as you slowly glide your hands up his body and push the fabric along with them. He looks at you with round eyes, staring into your eyes as you slowly run your hands up his body only looking away to help you take it completely off of him.

“You look really good in baby blue.” You whisper tossing the sweater where the rest of his clothes are.

“Thank you.” He mutters shyly before you lay back down on your side.

He looks back down and sees a puddle of precum pooling on his stomach. A blush creeps up his face, embarrassed at the large amount. He’s thankful you don’t comment on it as he brings his hand down, scooping some up and using it as lube. His hand wraps around his length, pumping himself slowly and letting out soft moans. He’s not usually this…wet… he doesn’t know why squelching noises are coming from his hand this early. He doesn’t know why there’s an actual puddle on his stomach. He doesn’t know why his cock is aching so badly to get inside the fake pussy he has, or why the veins on his dick are bulging out and pulsing with need. Usually, he’s not this eager, and you’re the one to blame. The sudden urge to prove he’s good at it takes over his body, to prove he can make a fucking toy feel good and it’s all your fault.

“So pretty,” he hears you whisper, and he can’t help the loud whiny moan he lets out, instantly biting the back of his other hand to shut himself up.

You push his hand away, “Let me hear you.”

Sungho nods softly, obeying instantly and letting his jaw drop as he continues to pump himself. He’s not usually noisy, he can’t help but let out soft moans and whines with you around. His hand speeds up in pace, his breathing gets heavier and his noises get louder. The vein in his hand becomes more prominent as he strokes his dick. His hips lift off of the bed, slightly thrusting up into his hand before they fall back down. He can feel his stomach tighten, getting so close to the edge already with your eyes on him. You can tell he’s close too; his hand getting sloppier with its pumps, his stomach caving in, and his hips stuttering up.

Then suddenly he stops. Sungho’s eyes open, looking at the ceiling with hooded lids as his hand squeezes the base of his member to stop himself from cumming. You can see his eyes water from refusing to give himself a release. You can see the blush rising back to his cheeks, his eyes darting to your face, down your body, then back to his dick that’s begging with each twitch. Suddenly he’s also aware he’s the only one fully naked here.

“Uh, I’m a bit embarrassed.” His voice is raspy as he speaks, moving his face to the other side to hide from you.

“Don’t be Sungho,” You coo, softly grabbing his chin to bring his face back to you. “You look really pretty right now.”

You don’t miss the way his cock visibly twitches at your words, his tip leaking a small beat of precum that follows the trail of his vein. A shy smile grows on his face as he mutters, “Thank you.”

He sits up on his elbows, letting go of his dick that falls against his stomach with a small smack, falling into the drying puddle on his stomach. He brings his hand up to his mouth, letting a wad of spit fall onto his middle and ring finger before bringing it up to the toy. You bite your lip to prevent the small moan that bubbles in your throat as he slowly pushes his fingers into the toy. His fingers go knuckles deep before he pulls them out and smears what’s left on the rubber folds. Your thighs squeeze together subconsciously, feeling a gush of arousal seep out of you, wetting your underwear even more. He lays back down, glancing at your thighs rubbing against each other, as he holds onto his length, guiding the toy down.

He lets out a whine at the feeling of the toy sinking down on him, pushing and pushing until the rubber touches his pubic area. Sungho can’t help but tip his head back, back arching off of the bed ever so slightly as his face scrunches up into what seems like a pained expression. His eyebrows are furrowed together, eyes shut tight as he lets a hiss escape from his gritted teeth. You can’t decide where to look; at his face or where the toy sits on him. His hips rolled into the toy, trying to shove himself deeper inside.

Sungho can’t even be embarrassed now, he could never get over how good the toy felt, always left wondering if the real thing felt better or the same. He hears a small whimper come from you, his hips automatically thrusting up into the toy at the sound. His eyes open immediately after, hooded eyes behind his thin frames looking into yours as he lifts the toy, stopping when it’s halfway off of him before thrusting up into it. Sungho’s mouth falls out as he does so, letting out the most gorgeous moan you’ve ever heard from a man as he stares deep into your eyes. Your eyes dart everywhere on his face, stopping when you spot a strand of hair near his opened mouth. You can’t help but reach over, moving the strand of hair from his face. Your touch makes his eyes flutter shut only to shoot open again, not being able to keep them fully open for long before they droop back down.

It hurts how badly your pussy aches to be touched by him, or worse to be fucked by him. As messily as he’s fucking up into the toy, it makes you wonder if he’s even had real sex. His thrusts are uncoordinated and sloppy, with no rhythm in his hips as he rolls and thrusts up. Disgustingly hot squelching noises coming from it. His hand is pulling the toy up and down, sometimes going too high that his length almost slips out. You notice Sungho’s impatient at times, not being able to wait until he sinks the toy down on himself. instead, he meets the toy either less or more than halfway and sometimes halfway. His actions are desperate, too excited to have the toy suck him in you can’t even tell if it's pleasurable or not with the inconsistency that you can't seem to let go of.

“Yeppi,” You whisper out, eyes focused on where his cock disappears into the pink toy. “Are…”

You gulp at the sound of a whine leaving his mouth, face still turned to you, giving you a view of his expressions.

“Are you a virgin?”

His eyes widen at the question, his hips stuttering at the question and he lets out a confused moan. His cheeks are already pink from the heat and horniess, but they turn a brighter shade of pink because of embarrassment.

“Is it- hah- t-that obvious?” He whimpers out, looking at you with a pout before they part again to let out a groan.

You nod your head, biting your lip to hold back your smile, “You’re kinda sloppy.”

His hips thrust up flush against the toy, a whine coming out of his mouth again getting turned on even more as you speak despite the topic being about him being a virgin.

“Do you… want me to help you, Sung?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest, slowly trailing down until it reaches his stomach, your nail grazing his skin and drawing shapes on it.

He nods quickly, hips falling back onto the sheets. Your hand goes further down, passing the puddle on the dip of his stomach and reaching up for the base of the toy where’s he holding, all while looking into his eyes. He’s impatient again, thrusting up into the toy when you begin to pull it off.

“Sungho,” You say, a warning tone in your voice before you watch his hips fall again.

Your eyes flicker back down, pulling it off slowly until only

His tip was in before sliding it back down drawing a moan out from him.

“Kiss me.” He whimpers out quickly. “Please.”

You don’t have to be told twice. you bend down over him placing your lips on his pink plump ones, his moving desperately against yours as if he’s been craving you. The hand that’s not wet goes into your hair, tangling his fingers in them as he presses you deeper into him. You’re not sure if he’s done anything with a girl or if he is just too gone; the pace he has for kissing is as sloppy as his masturbating.

“Gosh Singho,” you breathe out. Pulling away from the kiss to speak, ignoring how wet you feel yourself getting solely from the far string of saliva connecting you both. “You’d never be able to make a girl cum if you fuck like this.”

“Y-yes I can!” He complains between whines.

“Too sloppy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss against his jaw. “Uncoordinated. Yeppi would be the only one cumming that night.”

He whines out in protest, shutting up when you let out a small chuckle against his skin, teeth digging into his jawbone before you crash your lips on his. He’s sloppy again, his mouth opening wide as if he was trying to eat yours, his tongue peeking out to lick all of you. Your lips, your teeth, the inside of your cheeks, and your tongue as you pump the toy up and down him.

His moans are louder now that you took over. They’re whinier and broken up as he kisses you. You pull away looking down at him and seeing a fat string of saliva connecting you both again, breaking when he bites his lip to quiet his moans. His mouth and chin are covered in spit and you can only imagine you’re in the same boat. His glasses have gone crooked now and they’re slightly foggy, prints of your face are on the lens before they disappear with each rough breath he takes. Sungho reaches up for more, shoving his whole tongue into your mouth as he sits up on his elbows to be able to meet you. You can feel his hips twitching up into the toy, this time a little more coordinated as he's finally able to get a pattern down now that you’re controlling the toy. The drool is leaking out onto his chest, a trail going down his chin then dripping straight down. Your lips wrap around his tongue, sucking on it as he lets out a groan that vibrates your whole body. His body is weak now, and suddenly he’s falling back down onto the pillow.

His other hand darts to your thigh, gripping it tightly as his chest heaves up and down, “Fuckkk- ah- i‘m gonna-“

Sungho doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before his hips thrust up to meet the toy halfway, falling open into a silent moan as his fingers grope your jean-clad thigh. He’s cumming into the toy, harder than he has on his own. His cock pulses with each spurt of cum that escapes him. His thoughts go wild as you coo at him, instead, he’s imagining he’s cumming inside of you as you praise him.

His hips fall back down onto the bed as he pants. Your hand makes the toy give him a few more pumps before you pull it off, watching as he cum begins to seep out of it.

“So messy Yeppi,” You tease, watching as the cum drops onto his skin. “You wouldn’t leave a girl just like this, would you? You’d make her clean herself, wouldn’t you?”

His head is spinning at your words, shaking his head as he looks at you with wide eyes again, still coming down from his orgasm.

“No, right?” You hum at him bringing the toy closer to his mouth. “Then you should clean it up right?”

He looks at the entrance of the rubber toy and then back at you, your eyebrows raising in expectation as he slowly sticks his tongue out before he pulls it back in.

“I’ve never…” His words trail off as tries his best to see you through the slight fog of his glasses. “Eaten… it.”

“The toy?” You question, laughing when he nods. “Why don’t you try it out first, hm? Then I’ll help you.”

He nods, sticking his tongue out, licking the dripping cum coming from it. The sight is so lewd; your best friend eating his cum and eating out a toy for the first time in front of you with hooded eyes staring directly at you for reassurance. You can’t stop the moan that falls from your mouth as he wiggles his tongue inside. The sound alone is enough to make him hard again, his dick immediately growing again despite just cumming. His eyebrows scrunch in confusion, not knowing what to do as he licks inside the walls of the toys.

“H-how about…” You start, pulling the toy off of his tongue and placing it on the side. “You try with the real thing?”

His eyes are blown out as he sees you reach for the button on your jeans, popping it open before unzipping your pants.

“Please.” He whispers, nodding rapidly as he sees you wiggle off your jeans.

You toss them onto the floor, grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. Revealing your matching set of plain black to him, but despite it being simple it was his turn to not be able to hold back the choked moan escaping his mouth at the sight of your body half naked in front of him.

He sees you about to lie down, his hand reaching for your waist to stop you, asking shyly, “Can you sit? On my face?”

Your eyes widen at his question, body freezing as you feel your cunt clench around nothing. You can see him getting nervous, snapping out of it you nod your head.

You crawl towards his head, swinging on legs around his body before scooting up until you're hovering over his mouth.

“Are you-“ You're cut off by Sungho shoving his face forward into your mound, inhaling deeply, and letting out a deep groan while your hand immediately goes to grip his hair. His glasses go crooked as he presses his nose against your clit, your body jolting as he slowly rubs it up and down.

“Sungho-“ You gasp, feeling his hands come to grip your ass tightly, pulling you further down onto his face. You can feel the cotton material of your underwear dampen, unsure if it was because of you or Sungho pressing his tongue against it. “Let me move them first.”

He allows you to pull up from his face, watching intensely as your hand comes down to move your underwear to the side. Sungho can’t stop the moan coming from his throat as you expose your soaking cunt to him, your folds are glossy in the light from how wet you were.

“Do you want to try it on your own first?” You ask, looking down at him as you run your fingers through his hair, stopping to fix his glasses as he nods rapidly.

He rushes to pull you down, hands gripping your hips as he sticks his tongue out, flattening it out against you as he licks a long stripe up. He looks up at you through his lenses, watching as your eyes flutter shut as he begins to repeat the action.

“T-try, ngh, focusing here.” You tell him as you reach down to tap your clit.

Sungho immediately listens, his tongue poking your numb before wrapping his lips around it. Pride swells in his chest at the loud moan you let out once he begins to suck on it, his tongue flicking it quickly as your hand grips his hair tightly.

“Sungho- hah- shit just like that.” You praise as you grind down on his face, hips twitching as you do so. “Fuck so good Yeppi.”

The vibrations from his moan shoot up your body, and moans fall out of your mouth as you grind down against his mouth. Sungho pulls away from your clit, and flattens his tongue against you again to lick everything up. His mouth opens, his lips pressing against all of you as he begins to slurp your juices dripping out onto his face. His glasses are completely foggy by now, the lenses covered with thick fog ruining his ability to see you, but he doesn’t want to stop touching you. His hands are running up and down your body blindly; moving down to your ass to squeeze it before running up to squeeze at your tits and coming back down to your waist.

“Can I stick-“ He cuts his mumbling off by slurping up your juices again. “My tongue inside?”

You nod your head rapidly, unable to speak as he continues to flick his tongue over your clit, “Y-yes fuck please.”

Sungho immediately listens, prodding his tongue inside of your hole, his tongue wiggling its way in like he did with the toy. He moans, his tongue surrounded by your tight warm walls, the taste of you coating everything single bud on his tongue before dripping down to the back of his throat.

“Oh, my g-god Sungho!” You whimper out, his tongue darting in and out of you rapidly as your hand tightens in his hair, drawing a pained moan from him. Your hips grind down to meet his thrusts, desperately trying to shove it further inside of you as he forces your hips onto his face.

Sungho is so desperate for the taste of you, moaning and whining against your cunt each time you grind on his face. He can’t help but shove his face further into you while forcing you further onto him, trying to reach deep inside of you only to be restricted by the length of his tongue. He was practically suffocating himself into you, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead, he let out big huffs of air against you before inhaling all the air he could between you guys, not daring to pull away despite the lack of air burning his lungs. You couldn’t seem to notice either; and if you did, you simply didn’t care with the way you could only grind further into him and bring him closer to you. His nose is bumping against your clit with every movement of your hips, making you cry out each time it does.

Your other hand desperately reaches for his hand, helping him bring his thumb to your clit as you show him how to rub the way you want it. You let go when he gets the hang of it, your eyes rolling back and noises getting louder.

“Ah- ah, Sungho fuck you’re doing s-so good!” You practically shout, tears prickling in the corner of your shut eyes as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. “Don’t stop- please- don’t stop.”

Sungho wished that his glasses would somehow clear up so he could see how godly you looked on top of him right now. You on the other hand were grateful for it, thanking the universe for not letting him see how pathetic you looked right now. A small part of you was embarrassed; embarrassed how nothing but squelching could be heard coming from your wet pussy, slurping coming from Sungho, annoyingly loud moans and whines from you, pathetic hips grinding into his face and your pathetic hands only forcing his face further up into you. The scene must look disgusting from another person's view, it sounded disgusting, but it felt so good you wished you could see it from another view.

“Oh my god- Sungho oh fuck- I’m close!” You cry out, mouth dropping open as you throw your head back. “Don't stop oh god- please.”

Sungho can feel his stomach tighten, your pleas going directly to his cock as it leaks all over his stomach again. His heart is swelling from hearing you becoming such a mess all because of him. Sungho doesn’t stop though, he continues eagerly wanting you to come undone on his tongue. Wanting the taste of you to fill his mouth and silently begs it’s be the only thing he tastes for the next few days. He notices the stutter in your hips, twitching each time you bounce on his face as if it was a cock; and all he can do is hope you do that on his next.

“Cumming- shit- ‘m cumming!” You warn, your body shaking violently seconds after as you release all over his tongue.

Your moan drops open as a squeak leaves your mouth, followed by a loud cry. Sungho drinks you all up as you release, jaws unhinging wide open to make sure he catches every drop of you while your thighs squeeze around his head. His tongue continued thrusting into you, moaning as you tightened around the muscle. Your walls spasm around him as you cum, his thumb still rubbing circles on your clit as you come down from your high. Harsh gasps come from you, your chest heaving up and down as you try to come down from your release, hips messily rutting into his face.

A tug on his hand pulls his fingers away from your clit, your hands releasing their grip on his hair as you slide your body away from his face wetting his body in the process but he couldn’t seem to care. You push his glasses up to his head as you pant for air, resting on his abs as you watch him blink to adjust to the light.

Your eyes shut for a couple of seconds at the sight of him; hair sticking in every direction, eyes hooded and filled with lust and want, his mouth and chin completely soaked in your arousal as his tongue darts out to lick what we can.

“You did-“ You gulp, mouth dry as ever. “Really good.”

A grin breaks out on his face, pride evident on his face from your praise. But he still can’t ignore the throbbing feeling coming from his cock again, desperate for a release — throbbing harder now that he got a taste of you(something he’s always dreamed of).

As if you could read his mind, you get off of his abs, and he can’t help but fixate on the wet spot your pussy leaves on his skin. You wrap your hand around him, sharp gasps coming from him at the feeling of your soft palm around him.

“Please-“ He begs, hips softly thrusting up into your hand as you softly pump him. “Please- let me be inside you.”

You nod your head quickly, pulling your hand away as you move to slide off your panties, tossing them somewhere in the room before doing the same with your bra. Sungho practically comes on the spot as he watches the way your tits bounce out of the bra, staring intensely as your nipples begin to stiffen in the cold air.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask him. “It’s fine if you don’t, I’m clean. And I’m assuming you are too.”

“I don’t,” he confirms with a soft pout. “Please, let me be inside you.”

You coo at him, bending down to kiss him as you climb onto his lap, pressing his cock against your pussy and his stomach. He lets out a loud moan against your lips, the feeling of your tits pressing against him and the feeling of your bare pussy touching his makes his cock jump against you. He watches as you pull away, your figure becoming blurry as he quickly rushes to clean his glasses on his pillowcase before shoving them into his face. You still have him sandwiched between you two, grinding on his member to get him nice and slippery. The sight alone could’ve made him cum. He watches as you hover, gripping the base of his cock with one hand while the other plants itself onto his chest. You both look as you begin to sink on him, moans coming from the both of you as you do.

A gasp comes from Sungho when you bottom out, a noise similar to someone getting punched in the stomach, as his hands fly to painfully grip your waist. Your other hand comes to his chest, balancing yourself on him as you whine. Sungho feels like he’s in heaven, eyes rolling back as he sees white at the feeling of your tight pussy stretching around him. Your wet, warm, spongy walls flutter around him and clench as they adjust to his size.

God, he thinks he might cum. He can feel it brewing in his stomach. All he can think to himself is, ‘God please let him last a little longer.’

“Y-you can,” Sungho gulps, letting out a shaky breath as he opens his eyes, lifting his head to look at you. Regretting it immediately as he gets a look at your fucked out face, tits pressed against each other tightly in between your arms, and the sight of your cunt stretched around him was enough. He shuts his eyes immediately, letting it drop back into the pillow as he tries his best to focus on something else. “Please move.”

You listen to him, your shaking thighs helping you move up until his mushroom tip is about to pop out, before slowly sinking back down. A deep groan comes from him, as if he is in pain as you repeat the action, this time slamming down onto him. You let out your noises, whines fall from you as you feel his fingers digging into your skin.

“Fuck Sungho,” You gasps out hips bouncing onto his. “A-are you okay?”

He nods quickly, “So good. So good. Feel so good.” He blabbers out as his face scrunches up.

His senses betray him, making it harder to hold back the never-ending feeling to fill you up. His hearing solely focuses on the even louder squelching noises coming from your cunt, the sound of your ass bouncing against his thighs, and the cries of pleasure coming from you. His touch focuses on the feeling of your soft skin underneath his fingers, wanting to dig them impossibly deep into you. The feeling of your wetness drenching his balls completely, adding even more wet sounds each time you bounced down. His smell still focuses on the smell of your cunt from when you were desperately grinding on his face for a release, never wanting to get rid of the scent of your pussy. His taste was the worst, each time he swallowed he felt as if he was swallowing your release all over again.

But he knows if he opens his eyes he’d be screwed for life. He’d know it’s100x worse at the sight of your even more fucked out face, mouth open wide as you whine and moan, eyes either hooded or shut tightly in pleasure, the sight of your pussy gliding up and down his length, tits bouncing with each movement, the faces you might be making.

Fuck, he wants to see it so badly.

“Sungho,” you whine loudly, nails softly scratching his chest to get his attention. “Look at me. P-please.”

He’s fucked. So badly. But can’t help but listen as you plea for him. He regrets it so badly though.

His eyes fluttered open and hung low as he looked at you, and he was right. Your eyes were hooded as your face scrunched in pleasure. mouth hanging open while drool threatens to drip out. tits bouncing at the same pace you’ve set, slowing down when you slow your bounces to grind on him roughly. God, he’s screwed.

You felt the same, not being able to handle how he looked. Your pussy clenched around him as he opens his eyes, hooded with lust immediately. His plump lips are swollen from kissing and hanging open as he lets out the most beautiful noises. His chest rapidly rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath in between moans. Face, neck, and chest pink from heat. Hair wild, and the same round frames adoring his face, going crooked but not enough to need fixing.

Your cut out of your thoughts with his words, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He all but shouts, face scrunching up, “Gonna cum ‘m gonna cum oh god-“

“Sungie- ah-,” You whine loudly, eyes growing wide in disappointment. “Already?”

He nods rapidly, planting his feet onto the bed. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he watched enough porn to know this was one of the best ways to fuck into something.

“Y/n ‘m so sorry,” He quickly whimpers, leaving you confused.

You're about to question him, but the air gets knocked out of you when he grips your hips impossibly tight before he fucks up into you. Hips desperately thrust up as he chases his release. It's so close — he can taste it on the tip of his tongue, or maybe it was still you. Regardless he feels it all over his body, tingling every inch of him, something like he’s never felt before.

“Holy fuck- ah- hah- Sungho,” You cry out, nails digging into his chest as you balance yourself. “s-slow down!”

“Can’t!” He practically sobs. “Can’t! ‘M sorry I can’t!”

Sunghos hips move at an insane speed, nothing you’ve ever felt before. He’s so close, he can feel his balls tighten as they slap against your ass with every thrust.

“Fuck! G-gonna cum!” He warns his hips stuttering as he continues his pace.

“Inside!” You gasp out, eyes rolling back. “Please- inside please Sung!”

“So good! Fuck, yes! So warm, so tight, so good!”

Sungho delivers one more harsh thrust into you, practically lurching your body forward, almost falling if it wasn’t for him forcing your body onto him. He cums with a loud moan of your name, his whole body shaking as he spurts loads of his cum into you. Orgasm so intense, that he loses his hearing, ringing being the only thing he could hear as his eyes roll back. Revealing nothing but whites to you as he throws his head back, mouth wide open releasing silent squeaky moans, before returning to loud shout-like groans as he comes back to his senses. His body is still shaking when he lets his hips fall back down onto the mattress, pressing your hips flush against his while doing so.

His fingers quickly come to rub your clit as he continues spurting cum inside of you, more than he’s ever released before. His eyes water, pain shooting through his whole body as you begin to slowly bounce on top of him while his thumb continues rubbing circles. Sungho doesn’t mind, instead loving how you continue to use him despite milking him for all that he’s worth.

He continues shooting small amounts, body jolting up into each of your bounces. A small sob wreaking through his body.

“Sungho,” You whimper out, reaching for the nape of his hair to pull him up.

He quickly sits up, adjusting to rest against the headboard. Fingers still rubbing circles against your twitching clit, as you begin to reach your high. His hips still softly thrusting into you with each of your bounces. You pull him in for a kiss, sloppy and uncoordinated, similar to what you told him he was, was now you because of him and he loved it. Your noises are higher in volume, and before you know it, you're cumming around his cock. Pulling away from the kiss as your head falls back, face scrunching in pleasure as your walls clench and twitch around his length. Sungho leans forward, leaving kisses on your neck, softly sucking on the skin here and there and he helps you grind against him throughout your high.

You’re panting as you come down, vision full of fuzzy black dots from the intensity. Sungho’s lips send shivers down your spine, his thumb slowing down before you push it away from you. Instead, he opts for wrapping them around your waist bringing you impossibly closer as your grinds against him come to a complete stop.

You giggle when Sungho softly bites your shoulder, pulling away with a dopey smile. You both can’t stop smiling and letting out soft laughs as you stare into each other's eyes before you pull him in for a kiss. This time, full of passion, love, and unspoken feelings that you both feel. You pull away, resting your forehead against his as he jokingly rubs his scrunched nose against yours.

“I know this might be bad timing,” He whispers against your lips. “But, I really like you.”

You can’t stop the blush from spreading across your face, “I really like you too.”

Sungho breaks into another smile, pressing his lips against yours again, the smile not fading even as you both move your lips against each other. He pulls away this time staring lovingly into your eyes before you break the silence again.

“You look really good in baby blue by the way.” You compliment, nodding your head in the direction of his discarded sweater.

He laughs at the random completely, muttering, “Thank you.”

He looks down to where you both meet and lets out another groan at the sight of his cum leaking out messily of your hole and dirtying your puffy lips along with his skin.

“I seriously think you need to get off, so we can clean you up before I get hard again.” He says, eyes shutting as he looks away.

You let out a loud laugh, pulling off with a loud whine as he helps you move slowly. A loud groan comes from deep within his chest as he sees his cock pop out of you, base covered in a thick white ring of yours and his cum combined. His length is covered in the same substances, while his cum drops out of you and onto the sheets and your thighs.

Fuck. He feels the blood rushing to his cock again. He watches as your eyes fill with horror at the sight of him getting hard again despite basically emptying his balls right now. Before you can say anything you're flipped into your back, head hitting the pillow and body hitting the mattress with a soft ‘oof’.

“One more round wouldn’t hurt, right baby?” Sungho asks with a sweet unconvincing smile on his lips as he rests between your legs. “It may not be amazing — since this is my first time.”

His hand comes down to align his head with your twitching hole like you had done earlier. You let out a shocked whine as he pushes himself halfway in with no warning, babbling for him to go slow and to stop. His glasses sliding down his nose before he grabs them and gently places them onto your face to not lose them, giving you a small peck before pulling away.

The same sickeningly sweet smile is on his face as he speaks again, “But one more won’t hurt. I swear it’ll be quick baby.”

[ringtaez]

contains: dom!leehan x sub!reader, piss kink, piss training, fingering, edging, overstimulation, degradation, slapping

dom!leehan fingering your aching hole for so long that you can hear how wet your pussy sounds from your orgasm building up after being denied several times. he has no intention of letting you cum until you’re a squirting and shaking mess, getting the sheets wet with your juices as you cry non stop from how you just need to cum so badly. “you don’t deserve to cum pathetic slut,” he’d say as he lightly slaps your cheek a couple times to prep you for the harder one right after. he repeats that some more after which he pulls out to slap your cunt. you are just so fucking wet as he does so, the sound of your wet folds making you even wetter. “drink the whole cup,” he’d say as he sits you up and makes you drink your 4th cup of water in the past hour. the fluid goes down your throat and into your heavy stomach, feeling like you could pee any moment. but he’s building you up, teaching you to hold it in and be better at it because you’ve made him so mad by asking him to stop at places instead of waiting to get home to use the bathroom. he’s had it with you, so he’s just going to have to teach you the hard way.

[ringtaez]

kinda miss writing but every time i think abt it i feel an anxious pit in my stomach... 😞 miss it here

[ringtaez]

03z drabble snippet ꩜ .ᐟ

myungjae comes in later ;P

[ringtaez]

[ringtaez]

― before you follow .𖥔 ݁ ˖

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