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beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months

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Pretend It's Someone That Came for You (18+)

pairing: coworker!wonwoo x fem!touch-starved!reader

genre: coworker au, office au, strangers to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), fluffy fluffy fluff fluff

description: you're lonely. you're so lonely you think it might actually kill you. but when wonwoo transfers to your office, he might just change that fact.

warnings: unprotected sex (do NOT pls my babes), soft dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, v loving sex, praise (f. receiving), confession of love, riding, fingering (f. receiving), pussy rubbing tihi, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, baby, darling, etc), VERY angsty beginning, yn is truly v sad so DO NOT READ THIS if u fear it will make u sad!!, they say i love u unrealistically fast but i had to do it, yn uses sex to feel less lonely/ends up feeling more lonely, relatable yn frs, slightly dramatized symptoms of touch-starvation (?), kinda boring plot but idc bc its CUTE AF

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "finally!!" (she was fed tf up), "stanley is the most stanley man ever. i hate him but i love him.", (more r coming she actually didnt have time 2 read this and i didnt want to wait with posting.)

wordcount: 10.0k

a/n: this story was supposed 2 have more angst, like it was supposed to have this whole misunderstanding, but it just didnt feel right, it made me sad, so instead this is a short n sweet love story xx

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

You weren’t always like this. You remember being a sociable, joyful child; half-broken bikes and teddy bears and booster seats. You remember pigtails and popsicle sticks and Power Rangers, and what came after that? Being a moody teenager, became being a moody adult. High school became college, and college became an office job that served to keep you alive, even if it didn’t feel like being alive. College wasn’t that bad, you remember, so at what point had you mistaken isolation for privilege? And at what point had you gone too far into that tunnel-hole to turn back?

You must’ve been cursed, you think, putting on your outfit for work in the deadly still apartment. Dust dares not move, dares not give you hope that you are not alone.

You must’ve been cursed, you think, coming into work to a string of half-hearted, mumbled greetings. Your office is off-white and black and gray and everyone inhabiting it is also off-white and black and gray, and their skin is faintly oily and sickly and their faces are dragging down as if the very earth was reclaiming them and you think that you fit in here better than anywhere else.

You must’ve been cursed, you think, when you spend your day writing emails and organizing documents of information into different formats to send to huge corporations. Sometimes you fantasize about the other end of the transaction. Maybe their office is warm and brown with an accent of blue, and maybe people put hands on each other's shoulders, when they tell one another they’ve done a good job.

Yes, there’s no other explanation, you think, and can’t even muster the energy to feel bad when you blame some old hag from your hometown. You think she must’ve conjured up the worst ingredients, something cartoonishly evil, and a spell befell you, sunk into the crevices of your skin and dug into your pores.

You lie on your couch with a glass of wine and the television going, but you’re not really listening. You don’t think anyone has touched you in six months. You’re not even sure you’re real anymore. You swear, you could live with no one hearing you out, because you’re not sure you’d have anything worthwhile to say, but you just needed someone to touch you. To reach out a hand and confirm, you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips, and I’m squeezing your shoulder, and I see you, and I feel you right here.

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

Lying physically very still, you still feel like you’re scrambling, fighting the clutch of the curse, and tugging on metal chains. Maybe that’s where all your energy goes.

What do normal people do when they feel this bad?

Sometimes you leave open the window, and when the wind tugs at your door, you pretend it’s someone that came for you.

Tug, tug, tug. The door rattles against its hinges when the fatally empty sky brings to you, in outstretched palms, the wind interlaced with glimmers of hope.

There’s never anyone at the door. _____________________________

This particular day starts like any other. You wake to your alarm and you put on clothes and you get ready and brush your teeth. Then you trample down to the bus stop. The sky is smothered by a duvet of heavy rain clouds. The rain hasn't come yet, but you know it will. Your fingers become stiff and hard, where they adhere to the polyester strap of your bag, massaging it. The bag is cold and dead.

The bus ride is by far the greatest part of your day. It’s quiet - early enough that you’re only accompanied by a few other souls. You rest your head on the window, vibrating gently against the curve of your forehead, and watch the people in the street.

The bus hums a gentle tune and snakes down the streets. Then you’re there, and whatever solace that it offers you under artificial light and mediocre, felted seats is gone.

Your office building is maybe the most depressing place on earth. It’s no glamorous feat of architecture. It is but a large, orange-y, puke-y, brick square, and the building is shared between yours and the Forester company. You don’t talk to the Foresters, but you know they eat cream cheese bagels on their breaks and throw birthday parties and once you saw the branch manager squeezing a salesman’s shoulder and telling him he had done a good job. His fingers squeezed down and the movement of the fabric revealed a shoulder pad built into the suit. You remember thinking it was a shame that it blocked the real touch.

Today, you walk up the stairs with heavy steps and you idle into the office building, eyes cast down to the dirty, gray carpet. You begin the long trek into the back of the building where your desk is located.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard.

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back.

“Morning.”

“M-”

Wait a minute.

Your greeting falls short. You don’t recognize that voice. Stopping in your tracks, your shoes scratch on the rough carpet, and lift your head to see him.

The first thing you notice is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. He looks like he jumped out of an underwear commercial; he’s all strong jawline, sharp eyes, round glasses on his pretty nose, neatly trimmed, short dark hair stretching down the planes of his face. He’s wearing a button up (usually you wouldn’t even register the clothing your coworkers adorned, but something about how he wore it was noteworthy), a tie draping over the dress shirt, and formal slacks hugging his thighs.

He smiles at you sheepishly, hands nervously smoothing down his thighs.

“I’m Wonwoo” he says curtly, nodding to you. “Just transferred from the Wallingset branch.”

You nod. “Right. Wallingset,” you nod more. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/n.”

Something about your name on his lips makes your heart flutter. It’s pathetic, you know, but his peregrine being in his office chair, spilling your name from his pink lips makes you feel a little more real. You look at him and then you nod again-again, kicking your legs into gear again and walking the last stretch to your desk.

You can see the back of his head from your orange-wood desk. Papers and sticky notes are scattered among the desktop. The monitor watches you accusingly, all big and square and black, waiting for you to open it up and begin working. Your eyes linger on him for a moment. Then you work.

A few hours pass on emails and translating information from a company into a comprehensive sheet. However, today you’re having a hard time focusing on work.

This is not new.

Sometimes you briefly talk to a man at the grocery store, and your mind will wander to him for next week, wondering if he’s thinking about you too, imagining yourself cuddling with him, watching movies, imagining him telling you it’ll all be okay. Sometimes you briefly talk to a man on the street, sometimes it’s even a date, but whatever the case you obsess and you dream and you always end up alone.

Today the victim of your depraved mind is Wonwoo. The guilt is easy to push away. You feel sorry for yourself. You think you deserve this. You think you can’t survive without this. And so you imagine him hugging you, stroking your hair, and you imagine him falling in love with you, and you imagine not being alone. Your fingers rest on your keyboard. It’s old and mechanical. You think it’s from a yard sale, probably an old woman whose children moved away. It’s plastic, and it curves inwards underneath the pads of your fingertips. The keys are cold and dead.

You fully zone out, eyes blearing into the back of his head, but you don’t really see it, your mind has traveled elsewhere. You guiltily imagine his hand between your legs, on your chest, straddling him, kissing him. And it’s not rough, it’s loving, because in this world he loves you, and he’d do anything for you, and you don’t have to be alone again.

You don’t love Wonwoo. It’s not some magical love at first sight, it’s not a romance book, it’s real life. You’re lonely. You need this to survive.

“Hey, Y/n?”

You snap your head up. Maybe you were still daydreaming. But you recognized the voice well and true, and it was Wonwoo, leaned over your desk, hands in his pockets.

“Oh, uhm, hey-” your voice is shaky and you quickly rush to compose yourself, hands moving frantically and uselessly to glide papers over one another and, then, realizing that there was no point to your movements, stilling and looking up at him, cheeks flushed. “Hey.”

Wonwoo smiles gently. “Uh, you know, I was wondering,” he looks around the office, as if surveying the area. “If you knew where to get a good lunch? I don’t know this area at all, so..”

He trails off, looking at you expectantly for an answer. Now that he’s standing before you, it’s much harder to ignore the guilt you feel. You wanna gnaw at your nails until they’re nubs, you want to crawl under your desk and cover your eyes. Does he see how red your cheeks are?

“Uhm- well- I don’t- I eat a packed lunch, so I’m-”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, no expert,” you giggle awkwardly and watch his gentle smile drop into pursed lips. “But! Uh- I hear the- the hot dog stand, uh, just a little down the street is good!”

“Really? Maybe I should try it,” he contemplates, smile returning to his lips. “Would you mind showing me this mysterious hot dog stand?”

“Uh-”

Just seconds before you were thinking of his fingers in your pussy, and his hands caressing you, and him making you feel loved. He’s standing before you and he’s a totally normal guy, and you feel like shit. You feel like shit for using this fake image of him to comfort yourself. You can’t be around him, can’t convince yourself that maybe this’ll turn into something more - not when you always end up alone. Your brows furrow in determination.

“Actually, I have to, uh, get this done, so-” you gesture vaguely to your monitor.

“Right! Yeah,” Wonwoo seems embarrassed, biting his lips and nodding. “It’s, uh, just down the street?”

“Yeah, to the right when you walk out the building.”

“For sure. Thanks,” he doesn’t even look at you then, just waves you off half-heartedly and starts trailing down the office. His shoulders are incredibly broad and his belt wraps tightly around his small waist.

You feel like shit. _____________________________

Why is no one else cursed?

You look out of the window, lying on your bed after work. Everything is very still and unmoving - your whole apartment feels like it’s knotted in strings, tightened until everything is snapped into place, and if you move the wrong muscles, the invisible hands will let go and everything will fly and hurdle through your home, and you can almost hear the sound, like the hard, empty sound of throwing a bowling ball and getting a strike.

No one else is cursed. People crowd the streets with friends, family, partners, and they’re talking and laughing. You rest your head in the windowsill, a lone spectator in the window. The glass cuts you off from the streets.

The afternoon after daydreaming the way you did about Wonwoo is always hard. Your apartment seems intent on suffocating you. Your daydreams serve as a reminder that you’re alone, that you truly have no one, and the act itself is so humiliating, you sulk into a glass of red wine and sometimes you cry. What do normal people do when they feel this bad, you wonder again, sobbing in your bed and spilling wine on your nightie.

Nighttime falls early while you’re crying. You weep on and off, hug your knees, eat a microwave dinner and watch TV, light casting onto your pathetic form on the couch.

And in your most vulnerable state is when you most easily slip into your old habits.

You press an old contact in your phone, one you’d tried to steer away from recently. You wipe mascara from your reddened cheeks, you wear pretty lingerie, and you lie, completely empty, void of any warmth, on your bed, awaiting.

It’s the first time he touches you in months. When his hand finds your shoulder, you shudder terribly. Sorry, he says, and he seems taken aback. Just ignore it, you plead, just ignore it. He does so, unsurely, and every time his hand grazes over your body you shudder and sob and every time he hesitates, asking if you’re okay, you cry at him to continue.

It feels good while it’s happening. Skin beneath your fingertips, hands on you, a face close to yours. You and him are the only thing moving in the apartment, synergizing on your bed, conjoining and writhing, and for just a moment, you don’t feel so alone.

When you’re done the anonymous man stands back up, sliding on his pants in the late hour. He says it was great and you hum. But then he looks around, hesitating on every old piece of furniture, on every photo on the walls, and lastly on you.

“What?” you ask, lying naked in your bed. He grimaces at you, as if signaling that he can’t quite figure it out himself.

“I don’t know,” he says slowly, hands on his newly-clothed hips and surveying the corners of the room, where shadows pool. “It feels haunted in here.”

He leaves.

When the warmth is gone, the bile rises in your throat. Old habits die hard, you think, and you feel totally empty. You couldn’t go on like this. It was nights like these you began to feel like a martyr - sacrificing yourself for a brief escape. Because when the door is closed with a click and you’re alone again, you feel yourself trembling and your heart is glowing red in the empty astral plane. Brief, easy forms of pleasure are often the most harmful.

It feels haunted in here. You remember his words, and before you finally fall asleep, you wonder one thing. You wonder if you’re already dead. _____________________________

The next day is a pain to overcome. You’re slightly hungover, slightly sore, and very uncomfortable. But you comply with your routine, and you enjoy the bus ride, and when you get to the office everyone greets you.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard.

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” Wonwoo says. You look up from the carpet carefully, flashing him an apologetic smile. You hope he can read its intention: Sorry about being weird yesterday. You think he got it.

“Morning, Wonwoo.”

And then you’re landing yourself at your own desk and beginning work once more. It’s boring, but today you ward off the daydreams and you focus, and you’re getting an exceptional amount done.

The clock on the wall (off-white, but yellowing near the top) reads 12:28 when your boss, Stan, approaches your table. He’s half bald, and his suit is much too loose, and he has a ladder of wrinkles climbing his larger-than-life forehead.

“Hey, N/n!” he calls, so loud that a couple of heads turn at the commotion. You’ve asked him several times not to call you that.

“Stanley,” you breathe, tapping a stack of papers on your desk to neaten the pile. You wonder if you were in trouble, but if his smile is anything to go by, you’d guess not.

“My favorite woman in accounting!”

“Hehe,” you laugh half-heartedly. You catch the eye of Wonwoo, glancing over his shoulder with a small, teasing smile. You smile back.

“I have a big- oh wait, wait, new guy, uhh, Jeon? Come over here real quick!” Suddenly his solid fingers waft the now scared Wonwoo over. The spectacled man’s shoulders hunch up as he moves off the chair, nodding respectfully. Wonwoo stands beside Stanley at your desk, and you focus your attention on Stanley, hoping to not get too lost in the idea of Wonwoo again - you were doing so good today.

“I have a big job for you, and I thought you could work with Wonwoo on it,” Stan moves his hand up to cup the side of his mouth, as if telling you a big secret, “seeing as he was a bit of a star over in Wallingset.”

Shit. The guy you were daydreaming about was working with you? Wonwoo laughs, embarrassed, but you hardly have time to catch it. You can’t do this. Yesterday you were thinking about him fingering you while looking at you lovingly!

“We have a massive, new client! Just dropped a big competitor of ours, and they want us to do their six month report!” Stanley seems genuinely excited about this, so you can’t help feeling a little guilty that you’ll be a gobbering, slobbering mess, sitting beside Wonwoo on this.

“That’s great-”

“I know! So, my two star members in accountancy, I’ll hand this off to you. The data should be coming into your emails soon,” without letting either of you react, Stanley hunches over, like a coach does before a little-league baseball game, wrapping his arms around both of you and Wonwoo. “You got this, troopers!”

Stanley claps his hands on both of your backs, so hard you jerk forward at the movement, and then he bounces off to the elevator at the far end of the room. You sigh heavily from the interaction. It’s quiet for a moment, while you fiddle with the papers in front of you.

“What a guy,” Wonwoo muses finally, thin fingers resting on the edge of your desk. You giggle, unable to look him in the eye for fear that you might remember how you’d thought about starting a family with him. “Yeah.”

You and Wonwoo settle into an unoccupied meeting room, and it’s all very professional. Markers and post-its, trying to find the best way to structure the report, excel sheets to categorize and overlook data, double check numbers.

However bad you think it’s going to be, you’re wrong. Wonwoo is easy to talk to - he’s quiet, but he’s intelligent, and he understands how to bring on conversation, even when you fold in on yourself like a used napkin.

“Yeah, we used to steal signs from our neighborhood,” Wonwoo admits halfway into a conversation about your hometowns. “I don’t think that’s gonna fly anymore.”

“Why stop now? You’re letting societal rules hold you back,” you joke, and the two of you laugh, and it’s so pathetic, you’re certain you haven’t laughed this much in years, and the conversation has lasted maybe 20 minutes.

“Well, I could show you the craft, you know, it’s a delicate process-”

While Wonwoo talks your phone buzzes and you absent-mindedly pick it up, reviewing the notification.

Your grin drops. Faintly, you hear Wonwoo stop talking. He tilts his head to study the way you frown at the screen. “What’s up?” he asks.

It’s the guy from last night and he’s asking if you’ll be available again tonight.

Maybe it’s how you could almost forget it - how you let yourself into positions that would hurt you, just to feel seen and heard and touched. Maybe it’s the dichotomy of that encounter and now, talking to Wonwoo, and having the laughter steal away the loneliness. But you’re reminded so terribly of your position. You’re reminded that this, too, will end, and that the loneliness will return. You’re reminded that once the shift ends, you’re alone again.

Suddenly you’re a thousand daggers all pointing out. You shield yourself.

“Uh,” you trail off, putting the phone down again. “Just some guy.”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows raise. “Boyfriend?”

“No!” you say quickly. “No, he’s, uh. Just some guy.”

A pause.

“Okay,” Wonwoo says. You don’t even remember where you left off the conversation. You bite your lip because everything is all agony. The table is cold and dead beneath your hand.

“I’m thinking we group these together,” you say, eyes now tuned to your screen and fully submerged back into your work. Work. That was all that could cover your beaten down, cursed self.

The rest of the shift you feel Wonwoo looking at you carefully, as if he’s trying to read you. You don’t talk about yourselves anymore, no more banter, no more witty comments. You structure the report, and try to ignore how his eyes laser you open. You don’t like it. You feel like he can tell you’re a pathetic, lonely woman and that you have nothing and no one. You feel like he can sense the curse upon you.

This would be torture. _____________________________

It is not torture.

The next day, to your surprise, Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen. You wait 5, 10, then 15 minutes in the meeting room you’d camped in, before you begin working on your own. It’s slower without him, but you manage.

You can’t help but slightly worry about him. It feels stupid. You know you’re putting too much emotion into a person you’d known for two days, but you can’t help it. You wonder if he’s gotten hurt or injured, or if maybe he hates you and has transferred back. You think even Excel finds you pathetic.

You sit there for three hours, among the ruins of paperwork and your open laptop, running your hand through your hair and typing in sentences that mean nothing, and the wallpaper is off-white and yellowing at the top, and the blinds are closed to the meeting room.

Around 1 PM the door to the meeting room is opened, wood smacking against the glass that surrounds it, and Wonwoo stands in the doorway, slightly out of breath. You snap your head up to him, like the jerk of a lifeless doll, suddenly interrupted from a very disorganized Excel sheet.

“Hi, shit, sorry,” he gasps, slinging his bag off of his shoulder to sit down next to you.

“Are you okay?” you ask immediately, and Wonwoo nods blindly, pulling his laptop out of his bag. “Yeah,” he says, cheeks slightly flushed and licking his lips. “My cat- my cat needed surgery, she got sick last night, it was an emergency.”

You nod in understanding, “it’s okay-”

You can hardly get the words out before Wonwoo rolls his chair back, wheels resounding hollowly on the floor, so he can look at you clearly. “I’m really sorry about this, it was not nice of me to leave you alone with this.” He gestures vaguely to the scattered papers, and you shake your head.

“It’s okay, Wonwoo, I get it,” you say reassuringly, peering up at him through your lashes. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re here now.”

Wonwoo seems less intent on personal conversations today - it’s probably because he was so late, and now is trying to make up the time. But it’s okay, in fact you’re somewhat relieved, because it dampens the false hope that blooms in your chest, whenever he asks you about your life.

Even if you and Wonwoo work hard and quietly, you slip into the late hours of the night in an attempt to keep on track for your schedule. Outside the windows that separate you from real life, the sky turns orange, and then dark, muted blue, and stars begin dotting its impressive stretches. People begin to leave around five, and by the time you and Wonwoo finish all your work, you’re the last ones left on your floor of the office.

Wonwoo lets out a loud sigh when he finally finishes the second segment of your report, and the both of you slump back in your seats.

“It’s so fucking late,” Wonwoo limply throws his hand in the direction of the window. You smile a little, looking out. Smaller buildings spawn geometrically from the ground, and every once in a while someone walks by with their dog, spotlighted by the stretch of street lamps that stand outside the parking lot. “I really am sorry about this, you know. Really ruined your night,” he says quietly.

You shake your head. “It’s fine, I had nothing to come home to anyway.”

There’s a pause.

Wonwoo looks at you intensely. Oh shit, you realize, was that too obvious? Was that too pathetic? Has it just clicked that you’re a loser that no one wants? You nervously look back at him, but there’s no malice in his eyes. A totally unreadable expression adorns his features, where he’s leaned back in his leather chair, legs spread invitingly. You look away, feeling dumb.

“At least we followed our schedule!” you say. Wonwoo snorts.

“Yeah, thanks to you. If you hadn’t completed so much before I got here, it would’ve been hopeless.”

Now it’s your turn to scoff, blushing lightly and looking at the linoleum flooring. “I don’t know about tha-”

“Seriously, Y/n, just take the compliment,” Wonwoo reaches a hand over, and you watch its movement.

It’s like time slows down, not like the movies, no, like you can stop time with the heavy weight of your gaze, pinning his muscles in place. But you can’t, and it lands on your shoulder with a soft thud. Fuck. His hand is warm and alive on you.

“You did so well today, I-” Wonwoo cuts himself off, because suddenly you’re trembling.

He feels your body shuddering and jerking under his hand, like the wind rattles your door when you leave it open, and he can’t see your face behind a curtain of hair, but he hears you gasp, and, fuck, you look like you’re sobbing.

The man from last night had become so hesitant when you reacted this way. When your body trembled and shook and when you cried, but Wonwoo seems to understand. He peers at you from above the rims of his glasses, and his hand stays put right there on your shoulder.

“Y/n,” he whispers, so sincere it causes a pathetic squeak to escape you. What must he think of you? The thoughts spiral and you can’t control a single one of them, they dance like freed souls in your head, and you can’t stop the spasming of your muscles, and you know you look so pathetic beside him right. “Y/n, look at me.”

You don’t. You can’t. You can’t because there are tears spilling from the rims of your eyes, and rolling down your cheeks, wet and glossy. Besides, you’re an ugly crier.

“Look at me,” he says seriously, finger tightening on your shoulder. You try to steady your breath and calm your tears, before you obey and begin to turn your chair. The simple motion requires so much effort - it’s like the air has become so thick, that the friction against your leather seat slows you down.

Finally you turn to him, eyes first resting on his knees, then, carefully, traveling up to his face. He’s frowning.

Your face is reddened and your eyes are puffy, your cheeks are shiny and you chew your bottom lip in a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay.

Wonwoo looks genuinely devastated. The hand on your shoulder softens its grasp, then begins petting your arm, rubbing up and down. The action has you choking out gasps, trembling even more in his hold, and Wonwoo feels the need to roll his chair closer to you, so his other hand can grab yours. His thumb rubs over the back of it, and he lowers his head to look at you.

“Shh, relax, relax, Y/n,” he whispers, and you try to nod, but it’s so overwhelming; being touched, being seen, being heard, all at once. For months, maybe years, no one has touched you like this - as if they care. Now the feeling is foreign, so scorching hot on your arm and your hand, your body can’t take it anymore. You’re stuck between wanting to lean into his hands, wanting to feel how real you are, and how physically true your existence is, and wanting to shy away. What must he think of you?

“Y/n,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut to banish the sigh of your sobbing. “When was the last time someone touched you?”

You hiccup painfully. “Uhm- I- I don’t, ” your eyes are bleary and your lashes are wet. Your lip trembles and your whole body shakes when you try to breathe.

Apparently this was enough of an answer for Wonwoo, because he suddenly stands, somewhat harshly tugging you into a standing position too, and pulls you directly into the harbor of his arms.

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his torso. His chest is pressed flat against yours, so, so warm, when he nudges your head into the crook of his neck, and presses his face against its side, sighing softly into you, and breathing warm air onto your hair. His palms push you into him, soothing your trembling body, and holding you like an anker. One hand travels up to your hair.

“W-Wonwoo, you don’t have to-”

“Shh,” he quiets you immediately, voice the softest wind of a peach tree. “Just let me take care of you.”

You do. Wonwoo holds you until you stop crying, and though it must’ve been twenty minutes or so, it feels like no time at all. Standing in his space, breathing in his dark cologne, and letting his heat thaw your dead heart is a totally timeless act. Joy and serenity flows from the places where your bodies touch. When you stop crying, Wonwoo holds you for longer.

Eventually, he lets you go.

You step back sheepishly, now much calmer and the red in your face faded. You wipe your tired eyes shyly with your sleeve.

“Thank you, Wonwoo,” you mumble, voice thick and garbled. When you look up at him, he smiles softly, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly, arm extending one last time to squeeze your forearm. Then it falls limp again.

“I, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Of course.”

When you return home, you’re buzzing. Your entire apartment buzzes along with you, things seem to clatter and beam along with the bright, glowing of your heart. You snuggle into bed and nothing is still and even when you’re drifting into sleep, your nerve endings spin in joyful circles, and your feet are a static hum. Suddenly you are very, very real. _____________________________

You’d think the next day would be tense and awkward, and maybe it is at first, but soon enough you’re talking again, more intimately than before even.

This is Wonwoo’s doing - you know this. You know he’s smart and you know he doesn’t want you to feel bad, so he makes conversation and builds trust between the two of you. You know he hopes you don’t feel insecure. Every word he says and every flick of his eyes is riddled with it.

The conversation decidedly slows down your progress, so Wonwoo once more suggests staying overtime. You look at him for a moment before agreeing.

You can’t tell what his end goal is. A chamber of your heart has been revived and rebirthed, and you’re more chipper, more bouncy, but the rest of your heart insists: you’re still cursed - eventually it’ll go back to how it should be. You listen. You try not to get your hopes up that Wonwoo really cares about you. Why should he, really?

Although when you’re done for the day, about an hour after your usual 5 PM, you stand up and begin to pack your things, laptop sliding into your bag and clustering pens in your hand. It’s gray outside, but the sun comes in a single strand through a gap in the smog and the clouds. The wind hoots by the windows, and it smells like the indian you ordered for lunch together.

You stop your packing, feeling a set of eyes in your back. You twist your head to see him.

Wonwoo is sitting completely still in his chair, slack-covered legs spread open, and he makes no move to collect his own things. He just stares.

“What’s up?” you quip. You’re slightly nervous. Just before it was all silly childhood stories, college and weed and life before the dead-end job. Now Wonwoo has that unreadable expression on his face again.

He slowly lifts his hands from the armrest, eyes locked with yours, and claps his palms on the tops of his thighs.

Your eyebrows furrow.

“Wha-”

“Come here,” he says simply. When you stand completely still, like a deer in the headlights, Wonwoo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “What? You think you’re cured because someone hugged you once?”

“Cured?”

“You’re touch-starved, Y/n,” Wonwoo states matter-of-factly, “you need to be touched.”

“Touch-starved?” you echo, a bewildered expression on your face.

“We can also just hug, like yesterday,” he suggests calmly. You envy his collectedness. “I just don’t want you to feel bad. So please. Come sit.”

To emphasize, Wonwoo pats his thighs again, patiently. You step away from your bag with hesitating steps, pursing your lips. Your cheeks blaze when you look at his thighs again - they’re so long, and the folds in his slacks stretch down and centralize on his crotch and- You’re being a pervert.

“Okay,” you squeak and Wonwoo tuts. Why is that hot, you think, why the hell is that hot?

“We can just hug if you-”

You feel bold.

Without letting him finish, you swing your leg over his, and plop down, straddling halfway down his thighs. You thank God you put pants on this morning instead of a skirt, when you look down at where you rest on top of him.

Wonwoo is a little taken aback, but when you’ve settled on him, his hands find your waist and he looks up at you with a hum. Your breathing is a little shaky. Once again his hands provide a pumping of golden joy into your body, and more of you comes alive and becomes real, and you smile.

What had Wonwoo been talking about? Touch-starved?

“What’s, um-” your question is cut off with a gasp, when Wonwoo uses his hands on your middle to tug you closer. You rest on the highest point of thighs that you can without sitting on his dick. Cheeks red and eyes squeezed shut, you hear how Wonwoo hums, pleased. “What were you talking about? Touch-starved?” you whisper, keeping your eyes shut.

Wonwoo sighs, and once more, like the movement is entirely replayed, his hand finds your hair and pushes your face into the crook of his neck. You sigh against it, enjoying how his arms protect you and hide you from the evil of the world.

“If you don’t touch anyone,” Wonwoo begins, his voice low bass in your ear, “you become touch-starved. That’s why you reacted the way you did yesterday.”

His hands run up and down your sides.

“But- but I’m not crying today,” you say quietly into his neck. Wonwoo hums.

“No, that’s good,” he says. “We can stop if you really want, I just wa-”

“No!” your voice squeaks immediately, and, as if he were running from you, you fist his shirt to keep him close.

“Okay,” there’s a smile in Wonwoo’s voice. You can’t see it but you can imagine it.

Comfortable silence. Wonwoo traces patterns on your back and you breathe deeply against the skin of his neck. The two of you function as one living thing, the only living thing left in the office. Chairs are turned halfway, a couple lights are left on. The desks betray the past presence of humans.

“Wonwoo,” you pip.

“Mhm?”

“You don’t have to do this, you know? I don’t want you to do it if you- if it’s just.. Pity.”

Wonwoo sighs, and you feel the way his torso deflates underneath you. He trails his hand up from your back to tap your cheek. You move back and look at him.

Your faces are very close, you can feel how your exhales collide and then scatter, hell, you think you could count each of his eyelashes from here.

“I already told you. I’m doing this because I don’t want you to feel bad. I-” he hesitates for a moment, pursing his lips. “I’ve been there. So I know what it’s like.”

The thought of Wonwoo feeling like this, like you, is sickening. Genuinely sickening, you feel your insides turn to rot and mold and you frown so deeply, you think your lips might forever lock in that position.

“I’m okay now,” he reassures, reading you immediately. His hand finds your cheek and he almost cries out at the way you lean into it blindly.

“How did you-.. I- I always thought it was, like, a lifelong curse,” you say.

“A curse?” Wonwoo grins, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek. It makes you happy, it makes you feel like your heart will burst.

“Yeah. I guess I just blamed some old woman from my hometown,” you giggle, blushing a little because, yes, it did sound stupid when you weren’t just echoing the theory to yourself, like playing a team sport alone.

“You’re not cursed,” Wonwoo promises, tucking your head into his chest. “I’ll help you, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you from now on.”

He does take care of you.

Every day you work overtime, and every day when you’re done with work, Wonwoo slides you into his lap and holds you, while you curl up in his chest. Then you talk and you laugh, and you listen to each other's music. His hands run warm up your back and in your hair and on your hips, gentle caresses, deeply intimate. For two weeks you and Wonwoo indulge in this nighttime ritual.

You have not felt lonely since that night. And Wonwoo can tell. Your skin is warmer and brighter, you smile wider, your eyes twinkle, and there’s energy in every movement. Your body thaws under his warm hands every night, and sometimes when you smile, he gets so happy he could kiss you.

You realize you like Wonwoo one particular night when you’re falling asleep in your bed and you can still feel the ghost of his arms around you and it lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep, and when you wake up you smell a little bit like his cologne. That’s how you realize. You like how considerate and how gentle he is, you like how sweet he is to you, you like how he looks when he smiles and when he laughs and you like how much he loves his cat. You like how his arms feel wrapped around you.

And you like him, and suddenly your apartment is a song that you dance in, and every photo on your walls is smiling and your bed is always warm and so is your heart.

There’s nothing dead in here, you think, when you cook a delicious meal on the stovetop, sauce bubbling in a stainless steel pan. Nothing haunted about your home or your heart. _____________________________

“We’re almost done.”

“Mhm.”

“I can’t believe we’re almost done!”

Wonwoo looks up, bemused, lips made small and pointed. You’re staring at the almost-done document, scrolling up and down through long and arduous paragraphs. It’s nighttime again - not that you had to stay late today, it was a choice - and the city glimmers brilliantly in the coolness. You and Wonwoo wear sweaters to keep warm.

“Feels like a lifetime,” Wonwoo murmurs, same smile upon his beautiful face. His cheekbones point out from beneath his skin.

“Yeah,” you breathe, leaning back. You won’t put your fingers back on the keyboard. Not when it could be done so soon. You look at him, all snuggled up in a brown sweater. “What if..”

A pause. He tilts his head.

“Well, are we still gonna talk?” you chew your lip dejectedly, feeling a little sad and desperate, but Wonwoo only laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, it’s one you associate with joy.

“Of course,” he says, as his laughter quiets down. “If you want to.”

A shy smile forms on your lips. You turn to look back at the computer, but you hear the now-familiar sound of Wonwoo patting his thighs. You flit your eyes back to him, teasingly scolding.

“We’re not done.”

“We don’t have to be done now,” he shrugs, an equally teasing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes, but, unsurprisingly, you shift over to him, sitting down in his lap. He immediately tugs you closer, fingers searching for stimulation on the seams of your jeans. There’s something different about Wonwoo today, you realize, his touch is more feverish, his fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips and he looks up at you like you’re a diamond-encrusted chandelier, hanging from the ceiling, all glittering jewels.

“What’s up?” you giggle nervously. It’s becoming hard to breathe with the way he paws at your hips.

There’s something in the air between you, but maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, concocting the magnetic pull that lingers between you, the thicker, heavier air, that urges you closer.

He sighs heavily, as if he was dreading this. All of a sudden composed, cool, icy Wonwoo is chewing his lip and avoiding your eyes, looking instead down where your fat gives way for his needy fingers.

“I, uh, I really like you, Y/n,” his voice shakes. “Would you. Maybe. Want to go out some time?”

At the last syllable his gaze locks on to yours, and you watch him visibly relax, because you’re fucking grinning.

Not maliciously, not crudely, not a dime or a dab of evil, only genuine joy.

“I-I would like that,” you control your smile, pointing your lips in the same way that Wonwoo does and blushing all over. Wonwoo grins too and it’s unbearably boyish.

“Okay,” he says, as if he can’t believe it. “Okay. Great.”

The window slams shut, the spell is undone by his hand, the dead defy their only law to bow to his necromancy. Wonwoo is alive and warm underneath you, and you are alive and warm on top of him, thighs pushed up against his and tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Your balloon of heart pops in your chest, and the bone-cage of your chest is filled with helium, that has you floating. Rosy and shiny, your heart beats at twice its normal speed.

There’s a lull in the conversation. It would’ve been a more comfortable silence, if you couldn’t see by how Wonwoo looks down and purses his lips, that he’s itching to say more.

Sparked by his confession, you confidently snake your hand up to tap his cheek lazily. He turns to you with a loafy smile. “What is it?”

He breathes out unsteadily.

“You’re-” he closes his eyes. “There’s so much I like about you. It- It makes me feel really bad that you weren’t feeling well, so I-”

He cringes at himself, one hand pushing away his glasses to rub the eyes underneath them.

“Can I make you feel better?” he asks vaguely.

You huff out a laugh. “Are you trying to ask if I want to have sex?”

He laughs too, behind his big hand. “No. It’s not the same, I want it to be about you!”

You laugh more, and Wonwoo’s face reappears as he lowers his hand. He looks up at you adoringly, dotingly. He’s smiling.

“I’m being serious,” he says quietly, when you finish. He seems less embarrassed now, more so smug. “I want to make you feel good.”

He’s paying an awful lot of attention to your hips, which he has not let up massaging and squeezing roughly.

“Can I..?” he begins, eyes fixed on your hips in his lap. “Can I make you cum?”

Then, slowly, Wonwoo lifts his hands and gently places them around on your face. His touch is always as soft as a hope-laced wind. He’s warm and he’s alive and he’s holding onto you, and you see it in his eyes: you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips.

“Please.”

That’s all he needs, before he presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is everything you want it to be; because it’s loving. It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s gentle, there’s no tongue, just the soft, warm, real, alive flows of his lips against your own. His hands on both of your cheeks caress your cheekbones gently, and warm air is spilled in the small space between you. He pulls away, panting.

“I don’t understand it,” he mumbles, before he’s pressing his lips back to yours hungrily. You let out a confused hum, and you have to gently push at his shoulder to back him off again. “What do you mean?” you ask.

“Why you were so alone,” he breathes, transfixed on your lips. “I want to be with you all the time.”

Before you can respond, Wonwoo grips the underside of your thighs, lifting you and himself from the chair and placing you on the desk. You gasp at the impact when the glass table meets your bottom, and Wonwoo is standing over you, suddenly so tall and so broad, and slimming at the waist. His narrow eyes become hooded behind the reflection of his glasses. His head is tilted down to meet yours.

“Can I take off your clothes, pretty?”

You don’t answer, only grip the edge of your shirt, tugging it over your head, so your bra-clad chest is exposed to him. He groans at the sight.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, nimble fingers dancing across your back to unclip the bra, sucking in a harsh breath the fabric becomes loose, sliding down your arms. “Such a pretty girl.”

“Stop,” you whisper, face warm and red. Your heart has never beat this way. It’s utterly unbearable and addicting at the same time, it’s without rhythm or class, it’s wild. And it’s because he’s looking at you and it’s not just lust. It’s adoration. There are deeper strings to the make-up of his eyes, there are lines connected to his heart, and he’s all flushed.

“What?” he asks. “I’m just telling you the truth.”

Wonwoo throws your bra on the floor next to him, hands finding the hem of your pants. “Can I take your pants off?”

You nod, still so shy and abashed, because Wonwoo’s eyes feel like a pink spotlight, and you are bathed in its warmth. He unbuttons your pants and you gently slide off the table to work them off your legs.

“Your panties are cute,” Wonwoo remarks (it should feel lewd, but he has a hand on your hip, that brushes the bone and he smiles at it). “Thank you,” you breathe, before you’re taking them off too.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to, but he still insists on gently lifting you back onto the table, and he kisses your nose when you’re sitting before him. He’s standing in between your legs, and then he’s looking down at where wetness drips onto the glass table.

His hand slides down your stomach, resting on the fat of it. He’s smiling, he’s so gorgeous, because he’s smiling the most gentle smile at how wet you are and how it leaks onto the table and his hand is so warm on your stomach, doing nothing, yet turning you on even more than you’d ever been before.

He sighs like he’s carrying the greatest burden on his broad back. “You’re so pretty,” he says, almost exasperated by it. He pinches some of the fat of your stomach between his fingers lovingly. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

Then the hand on your stomach slides down further. His large, veiny hand cups your pussy, the tips of his fingers just barely teasing your hole. You whimper against him, hands finding his biceps for support. Wonwoo studies you, craning his neck down to peer at your face, while his fingers begin swaddling your folds.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles, trying to catch your eye where you bury into his chest. One finger dips into your hole, penetrating slowly and settling knuckle-deep.

“Wonnie!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Mmm, clenching down on Wonnie’s finger so hard. My beautiful girl.”

He begins pushing his finger in and out of you, pace slow and torturous. His other hand slides up and down your body, squeezing your waist then your thigh, then coming right back up to fondle your chest. He pushes your back flat against the glass, so you’re all splayed out for him and you watch him from there, eyes hooded and legs spread to accommodate him. He breathes in shakily at the sight of you.

“Shit, Y/n. What were you doing hiding all this from me?” His finger picks up the pace, as another finger slips in alongside it. You’re moaning and panting, lips red and hair mussed, unable to focus on his words, when his fingers curl against that spongy spot inside you. Apparently Wonwoo expects an answer though, because he speaks again, voice lower and rougher. “Hm? You didn’t want to go have lunch? What, was it that guy?”

“W-What?”

“Just some guy,” Wonwoo echoes your past words, emphasizing with a harsh thrust of his fingers.

“N-No, I- Hng!” you cry out, when Wonwoo’s thumb presses onto your clit. He rubs it torturously. “I-I was embarrassed because I- I was thinking about you!”

“Oh?” this catches Wonwoo’s attention, as he diligently works his hand within you, staring down at your naked form, fully clothed and tall. “Tell me what you were thinking about, baby.”

“This!” you cry out, too high off the pleasure to really feel embarrassed about it.

“Pretty, sweet, dumb baby. You were thinking about you whimpering and writhing while I fuck you with my hand, hm?”

“N-No,” you mumble, cheeks aflame. “W-Was thinking about you l-liking me.”

At this Wonwoo hastily leans over you, pressing his lips onto yours again, and this time his tongue pries open your mouth, wet and warm in the cavern of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, hips canting into his hand. There’s something so desperate about him then, something so eager in the way he crooks his fingers, and how he kisses you, panting and covering your face in warm air. You feel a tight knot in your stomach.

“Cum on my fingers, please, pretty, sweet, baby, darling,” he mumbles into your mouth, rushing out the words before he’s sealing your lips again.

“God, I think I might fall in love with you.”

That makes you cum. You cum so fucking hard, clenching around his fingers like an air-tight seal, and your cum spills onto his fingers and his name spills into his mouth. The curse comes out with it, escaping like the air that spills out from an ancient, rediscovered chamber, and dissipating into the night. Your heart is beating and you’re breathing into his mouth, nose brushing his.

“Good girl,” he breathes, finally releasing your lips and letting his lips fall heavy and wet on your cheek.

He pulls out his fingers, unbearably wet and slick, and you think for a second that he’ll let you calm down and then maybe he’ll put his dick in you, but as soon as the fingers are out of you, they’re settling back on to your clit, rubbing heavy-handed circles.

You whine, arching your back off the table and wiggling your hips at the overstimulation. His other hand catches your hip and he shushes your cries softly.

“You can cum again, can’t you, baby? You can take it,” he says, so nonchalantly, while his slick fingers rub you. You cry out. Your legs are shaking. “Think you can cum again from just this?”

“Y-Yes,” you sigh and when you look down, his entire hand covers your pussy, as he pets your clit in circles. He smiles at your words, pinching your clit teasingly. It causes a squeak to escape you, hips struggling against his hold, where he pins you to the table.

“Good girl,” he praises, purring. “Letting me use your pretty pussy like this, letting me make you feel good.”

His body in front of you prevents your legs from closing, but, God, do they try, knees pinching his thin waist, and hair bunching up on the glass when your face scrunches up in pleasure.

“A-a-ah!” you cry out. Your hips involuntarily begin to inch away from him, but Wonwoo pulls you back with one strong hand, tutting.

“Don’t do that,” he mutters, pouting. “You need to be touched, remember?”

The whole thing is so heart-achingly intimate. The way he stands, still fully clothed and with a huge fucking tent in his pants, simply rubbing your pussy and looking at you with heart-eyes. Seriously, eyes swimming with adoration for you, teasing words slipping from his mouth unable to mask the genuine wonder he feels, at how you gasp and you arch and you clean and you jerk from the simplest of his movements. And your pussy is so warm and wet under his hand, and his body between your legs is so warm, and you cum again from just that; from how much love he looks at you with, and from the fingers crooking to pinch your clit again, wet and swollen underneath his glistening fingertips.

“W-Wonwoo!” you cry out, cumming again, and your body convulses around his, when it oozes out of your hole. Wonwoo’s fingers gently work you through it. His gaze on you is so intent, so careful and insistent, you can’t bear it, the way he sees you totally lost in the pleasure he brings you.

“There you go,” he whispers gently, fingers letting up and disappearing from your pulsating pussy.

“Wonwoo,” you mewl tiredly, pushing yourself onto your elbows to look up at him. He looks at you, so sweetly, so attentively, hands immediately finding your back to stabilize you. “Can I please have your cock now?”

“We don’t have to-”

“I want to!” you interrupt him, brows furrowed and lips in a pout. Wonwoo grins at that and though he may deny it, you don’t miss the red that twinges his cheeks.

“It’s just if you were too tired..-”

“I’m not,” you say decidedly, and Wonwoo nods.

“Okay. C’mere then.”

You’re confused when Wonwoo sits back down in the office chair, fingers working his slacks open. He doesn’t answer to your grimace though, only manages his pants unzipped and in one lift of his hips, peel both them and his boxers down.

His cock springs free, and your confused grimace is replaced with one of awe. It’s pale and veiny, the head is red and thin, white liquid oozes from it, like melted candle wax. And it’s huge.

You’re too slow to mask your amazement, it seems, because when your eyes return to his face, he’s already looking at you, smiling smugly.

“Come ride me, baby.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You slide off the table eagerly, lumbering over to where he’s relaxed against the back of the chair. He looks up at you, all naked and pretty, with a grin.

The top buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned, but he must’ve given up halfway. Either way, the milky plates of his chest are exposed, shining gloriously in the warm office light, and he discards his glasses, face fully exposed to you. He’s beautiful, and you think to tell him.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, planting each leg around his, so you’re straddling him. Like your ritual, Wonwoo grips your middle and pulls you closer, but this time it’s even closer than normal. Your stomach meets his dick, all heavy and hot on your skin, and your breath hitches at the sensation.

“You’re beautiful,” he teases, looking up at you. You smile.

“Can I put it in?” you ask.

“As if the answer was ever gonna be no?”

You snort out a laugh, raising yourself by your thighs and gripping the base of his dick to steer him inside. He hisses at the feeling of your hand grappling with his impressive size, and he hisses once more when the head of his cock buries into your heat.

His hands on your waist anchor himself while you slowly sink down, until he’s so fully sheathed in you, you think the tip of his cock must be brushing your heart, because it feels like it’s swinging in your chest.

“You’re so big,” you whimper, clutching his broad shoulders, and scrunching the fabric on top of them.

“Don’t say shit like that, I’m gonna cum, babe,” he grits out, fingers bruising your waist. You mewl, clutching his shirt. Then you begin to bounce.

Your thighs flex on either side of him as you heave up and down his cock, the both of you gasping into each other, and clutching each other for stability.

“Shit,” he pants out, genuinely out of breath. “Fuck, you’re the loveliest girl in the world.”

You cry out, pressure already welling in your stomach and burying yourself in his neck like you’ve always done, and it’s so intimate and he’s warm, and, fuck, he wants you. You can feel it in his grip, in his cock, in his words; he wants you more than anything. The thought makes you wanna cum.

Wonwoo is not quiet at all. He grunts and whines and his words are strangled and garbled, but frequent, showering you in affection and praise, while you bounce eagerly on his huge cock.

“You’re so pretty, baby.”

“Your tits are so perfect, shit.”

“Pretty girl.”

“Loveliest, prettiest, sweetest girl, bouncing on my cock, fuck.”

Praises spill from his lips in purrs, one after another, and when you cum you can’t help but return it tenfold.

“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonnie, fuck! Gonna- fucking cum, I think I’m- f-falling in love with you”

You and Wonwoo come alive. Cum spurts from his cock and into your pussy, and you both cry out, entangled and completing one another in the space where you meet.

And it’s true, falling in love with him is so easy. And falling in love with you is easy too, you realize, because the second he’s spilled his cum in you, he pulls you from his neck to kiss you so deeply, so thoroughly, you think your lips might never unpuff from his hasty, bitten kisses.

His cock, now soft, still inside you, his warm chest against yours, his nose nudging yours, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the kiss is totally perfect, and you’re warm, and the windows are all closed and fogged up and there’s no curse other than the most fatal and most perfectly tantalizing of them all: love.

You are not alone. You’re sitting in his lap and you think if you give it a day or two more, you might want to spend the rest of your life with him.

You catch your breaths.

“You’re really good at that,” you say finally. He grins again, perfectly undone, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. “Yeah?” he asks. You hum.

After some minutes of keeping him inside you, kissing lazily, running your hands over his pretty chest and arms, you pull back, beginning to flex your legs to pull him out of you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, hands wafting to still your movements. You furrow your brows, confused.

“Am getting your dick out of me?”

His hands sink down on your hips heavily, fully encompassing his dick again. You sigh at the feeling.

“Don’t do that, silly. You’re touch-starved, remember?”

He tilts his head teasingly.

“So why don’t you just sit snug on my cock, so you can get all the closeness you need?”

#jeon wonwoo x reader #smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #svt angst #wonwoo angst #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you

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mavrintarou · 6 months

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[12:41 PM] Suna Rintarou

I couldn't go the month of November without a NNN... But happy December, it is crazy how fast the months flew by. I hope everyone has a great and warm last month of 2023. I'll do my best to get a few stories out before the end of the year.

Warning: Rin being Rin, explicit fluffy smut . “Please?”

Suna Rintarou sat on his bed with his long legs spread with you standing in between them. His arms hugging you’re your thighs.

You closed your eyes, trying to break free from his gaze. He knew you couldn’t resist his puppy eyes. “Stop.” You cover his eyes with one hand but that doesn’t stop his fingers finding and undoing the buttons to your dress pants, his fingers pulling down the zipper. “Rin,” your tone meant to come out as a warning, but instead it sounded like a plea.

“What’s so bad about sitting on my face?” he asked, his eyes still covered by your hand. “You just have to relax and enjoy it…”

“Why are you so adamant on me sitting on your face? What if I suffocate you to death?”

Rin tugs your hand away from his eyes, “baby girl, I would happily die by your pussy.” He kissed your palm, looking up at you with soft green eyes, “you won’t kill me, I promise…”

Your dress pants fall and pool by your feet. You feel his fingers graze the thin cotton materials of your panties. His finger pads circulate over your already sensitive clit.

“Just ride my face like how you ride my cock…”

Even after four years of dating and marrying him, you find it impossible to refuse him; Rin has a way of persuading you to do anything he desires.

“Lower,” he murmurs.

You look down at him, your nether lips are already pressed against his lips. “Any more and I’m going to put my weight on your face –“

He gripped your thigh and pulled your weight completely on his face.

“Rin!” you shouted his name before buckling over and moaning his name.

He slurped and suckled.

“I feel like I’m eating a raw oyster.” Rin once told you, “wet, messy, and delicious.” He taps his finger against your clit, “it’s like a pearl.”

His grip on your thighs tightens, refusing to let you lift some of your weight.

You found yourself rocking your hips, earning moans from Rin.

“Mhmm.”

Your body tensed, thighs tightening around his head the moment his tongue thrust itself into your pussy. “Ri – Rin…”

You tried to lift your hips but Rin held you tightly in place. “Rin – stop – no more…”

He released you and pouted, “fine, then sit on my cock then.”

You let out a soft chuckle, seeing his face glistening with your wetness. You crawl and straddle his hip, your hand finding his hard and long cock that was already leaking cum on his abdomen.

Aligning him to your pussy, you sink until he is fully inside of you.

Rin inhales sharply, head thrown back as he struggles to breathe. He looks up at you and presses against your lower abdomen making you hiss. “I feel you here,” he trails his fingers up, “so deep inside of you.” He winced but released a low chuckle, “don’t… don’t tighten around me like that. I might nut inside you…”

You lean down until your lips barely graze his as you whisper, “do it… nut inside me Rintarou.”

His fingers dug into your hip as he gave you his signature wide smile. “I’ll be honored.”

Ever since he revealed his desired kink of wanting to cum inside of you, you couldn’t help but want to fulfill it.

Rin shifted you slightly before he pounded away at your pussy. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, hugging you close.

His bed creaked with his erratic movement.

“Rin,” you moaned repeatedly, your pussy tightens by the second as you near your orgasm. The prickle sensation began to build up and your breath quickened with Rin’s rough and deep penetration. “Rin – Rin I’m going to cum…”

Rin purred something incoherent and his hips fasten, cock impaling you deeper and harder until you feel his hot cum spurt into your womb. The raw sensation has your walls closing tightly in, milking all he had to give.

“Ah.” Rin gasped, loosening his arms around you and falling onto the bed. You shift and tower over him, his eyes are closed, face flushed. “Fuck, that was amazing… keep – keep squeezing me like that…” His cock continued to jerk as his hips trembled with the aftermath. He opens his eyes and stares into yours, “have I told you lately that I love you?”

You chuckled and a smile graced your lips as you averted your gaze; his declaration of love is something you’ll never tire of. “Yes, you told me this morning.”

His lips press against your chin, “you made me cum so much.”

It dawned on you that yesterday was the last day of the month. “Did you achieve your Nut in November challenge?”

Rin erupted into laughter, “it’s No-Nut-November…” he sighed, relaxing against the bed. “Yes, I did. I nearly died but I did… my nuts were so full. Thank goodness you let me empty it in you.”

You shook your head and sat up. He groaned when you slightly rocked on his cock, “you need to watch your dirty mouth, Rin.”

His hands rub your hips, “it’s only dirty around you.”

You reach to grab both his hands and press his palm to your belly. “You need to watch your mouth around the baby now.”

The confusion on his face immediately switched to excitement. “Fuck no! – I mean no way. Are you serious?” You nod your head. He covers his face with both hands. You give him a moment to digest the news before you hear him sniffle and you reach to pull his hands away, a tear slipped from the corner of his eye, “that’s the best news ever.”

A plate of raw oyster is set before you and you feel Rin nudge you before leaning to whisper in your ear, “you know what that reminds me of?”

. . .

E/n: I don't think I'll look at raw oysters the same now.

>>>@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu suna #suna smut #suna rintarou smut #suna x you #suna fluff #suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou x reader

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faetreides · 27 days

Note

you nailed how i imagined modern!feyd to be (batshit crazy) but you think he‘d let cute hello kitty reader put like stickers and bows on his motorcycle and stuff lmao? would he be an ass and be mean about it or would he allow it because reader is all sad and mopey otherwise 😔🎀 (maybe brat reader? like how would mans handle that in the modern au because in the canon verse pissing him off is a bit too scary) and alsoooo i laughed my ass off when you wrote he would debone coryo like a fish because yuh that twink (he could do bad things to me) wouldn’t stand a chance fr

he would actually make coryo so concerned, like they’re both from well off families (feyd just does underground fighting bc for the #love of the game) but coryo will be like “these poor people are CRAZY.” coryo gives off the vibes of he’d tell someone to kill for him (especially when he gets older, or he wouldn’t get his hands dirty if he does it himself & he’s methodical), feyd is tearing out throats with his teeth. he’d tackle his uncle and start stabbing, he’d gnaw his own arm off just for fun like you can’t compete where you don’t compare tbh. (coryo’s still my bf tho <3)

anyway,

cw: 18+ mdni, typical feyd warnings, spanking/pain play type stuff

modern!feyd would only let you put stickers on his bike if they’re the ones that are like hello kitty holding a gun or something. it’s not like he’s afraid that the softer ones will undermine his masculinity or anything, feyd’s ripping into other men with no real regard for keeping their bodies intact, it’s just that the cutesy stickers go on his helmet. he’ll let you tie a ribbon around his bicep and film videos of him flexing and making it pop off. he would wear matching pjs with you, but he doesn’t want to get blood on them so he sticks to his trusty sweats. he’s the kind of person to wear black in the hot summer sun because he’s spiteful enough to not give a fuck about heatstroke, like it’s something he could fight lmao. gets a matching dear daniel x hello kitty tattoo with you i fear, or a my melody x kuromi one since that’s more your dynamic.

brat!reader with canon era feyd does scare me to death, but with modern!feyd it’s fun to think about…. to a degree. like if you keep it up, he’s pausing the match and dragging you inside the ring to spank you in front of everyone. open palm strikes with half of his strength, if he used all of it your ass might fall off. his rings add even more sting. you learn quickly to know when to pack it up and throw in the towel, because he will NEVER be the one to test out your devious little ideas and macinations out on. he’ll shove a vibrator up your pussy and take you for a long ride on his bike, ignoring the way you try to hump him as he points out the sights he thinks you’d be interest in. weirdly punishes you by fucking nice and slow when you want your shit rocked, he doesn’t even edge you or anything, he just gives it you so soft and sweet and holds your hips down so you can’t try to buck them.

in some ways, you being at his matches has helped his abilities. (you do have to come to his fights btw, if you’re not there expect the rumble of his engine to be heard outside of wherever you’re at. feyd will get his unlce to cancle the match if you’re not there, he’s ultimately a certain kind of performer and if the key audience member isn’t there??? what’s the point.) he has to keep an eye on you, which helps him multitask. he’ll be punching some fuckin’ loser into an unrecognizable pulp while, out of the corner of his eye, making sure that no one’s trying to drag you into any wagers or into their cars. he’s curious if you could cum just from watching one of his fights, from hearing the agonized whimpers of his opponent as feyd effortlessly conquers them. something about you must be sick, because the more ruthless he is in a fight, the higher you’re jumping on him and the more marks you’re sucking into his neck.

you’re so clumsy with it, always putting too much teeth into your hickeys. but that’s just the way he likes it, because you know he’s actively holding back from biting you so hard that’s nearly cannibalizing you. (side note: loves gorey horror, nothing too funny or artsy, he likes shit that cares more about the pure carnage than quips or wide camera shots. hannibal is too “fancy” for him, he always asks you to explain what the fuck they’re talking about.) definition of mauling you like a bear, fucking him is like meeting God if they were an eldritch horror and you were on the brink of death. it is NOT for the weak, his thick arms holding you in a headlock as he pistons his gigantic cock into your cervix. he makes you cum until pass out, then he makes you do it again to wake you up. really good at resetting your brain if you need him too.

modern!feyd who gives you the ultimate scary guard dog priviledge. you’re going about your business in a store and he’s practically vibrating behind you, foaming at the mouth and waiting for some mf to try it with you so he can berserk. but no one ever takes the bait, just one look at his deranged ass and they’re swiftly turning on their heels and high tailing it out of the apple store (you’re taking too long to pick what color imac you want.) copies whatever pictures you saw on pinterest, acting as your little prop. wrapping a tattooed hand around your throat, mirror selfies where he’s holding you over his shoulder by your ass, gross close ups of his long tongue wrapped around yours, insta stories directed at paul specficially bc he won’t stay out of your dms. asks his opponents for date ideas while he’s beating their ass 💀, made his uncle organize a remartch (even though feyd won) with the guy who limped over to your adorably clad in pink form and asked you to get boba (because he noticed feyd giving you your favorite before his fights).

pierced dick, would sharpen his teeth and make his tongue forked. face tattoos + whatever piercing’s more painful. big in body mods overalls like he sees himself as an extension of his motorcycle that he’s always illeggaly modding, fast and furious type specs that no court of law would deem road safe. but he always devotes part of his brain to making sure you’re safe when you ride along with him, reaching behind him and his black painted nails rubbing comforting little circles into your plush thighs. ambidextrous by choice and practice, for sure has a cauliflower ear. whenever you’re sad and pouting, he’s grabbing your chin in between his thumb an pointer finger and lifting your head up so he lovingly teases you about being a crybaby and so he can lick your tears away. (and he doesn’t even do it with sexual intent, feyd’s genuinely just trying to consume your sadness directly since word’s aren’t his strong suit.) could fall asleep in an ice bath, has done it before, dad type snoring like you wouldn’t believe.

loves it when you ride him in any kind of water, you have to pack extra strength sun screen if you’re going to be out in the sun though bc he WILL burn more often than not. still has your pussy gorilla glue gripping his length though, there’s no pain on earth that would put him out of comission & that’s a promise.

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leadpoisioning · 2 years

Text

Xavi Doesn’t Know

Tyler Galpin x Fem!Reader

SMUT (18+) ((oral, car sex, phone sex?, jealous!xavier, possessive!tyler))

Word Count: 1,204

Xavier doesn’t know that you and Tyler do it in his car every Sunday, that when you’re shopping Tyler’s really not stopping and it’s a three way call and Xavi doesn’t even know.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Xavier calls out to you, jogging to meet you where you stand in the courtyard. You take a deep breath before turning to the taller boy. Everyone knew Xavier was infatuated with you, ever since you spoke to him during orientation on the first day of freshman year. Unfortunately, he never mustered up the courage to actually do anything about the feelings he had, other than harbor them. You waited, you really did, but eventually his game got tiring and you found someone else.

“Yeah what’s up?” You nod.

“Do you want to hang out in my shed on Sunday? I was thinking we could have a chill day, like we used to.” You cringe at the mention of Sunday. You already had plans.

“Sorry Xavi, I’m already going to a church thing with Wednesday.”

“Oh, okay! No problem, some other time then.” You smile politely and nod, watching as he trudges away. It killed you to lie to him, but he’d hate you if he knew what you were really doing.

“Oh shit baby-“ Tyler gasps bucking up into your mouth. Your hand rests on the center console of his car while you bob your head up and down, messily drooling all over his cock. He screws his eyes shut, focusing on the heavenly feeling of your tongue. His knuckles turn white, gripping the steering wheel as if it might float away. “I’m so close baby, I can’t hold it much longer.” He breathily warns. His noises spur you on, going faster as he gasps harder. Tyler can’t find the words to say anything as his hips stutter, cum shooting up into your mouth. You swallow what you can, and clean his cock with long swipes as his chest heaves. His hand grabs your neck, bringing you to his face for a sloppy kiss. You slide over onto his lap from your seat and kiss him harder.

Meanwhile, Xavier is sat in his wooden chair at his desk. He rolls his eyes and tears out the doodle, throwing the crumpled page to the floor amongst the countless others. He runs a hand through his hair. He hated liking you this much. Too bad Xavi doesn’t know that you do it in Tyler’s car every Sunday.

A few days later he tries again. You and Enid sat next to each other, talking about some assignments.

“Hey, I was thinking we could reschedule that hang out sesh for today if you weren’t busy.” He sheepishly grins. You frown.

“I’m sorry, Enid and I were gonna go shopping in town today.” You and Enid were going into town, except Ajax was coming along as well and you’d be dropped off at Tyler’s house. His mouth draws into a thin line as he nods curtly.

“That’s fine, you two have fun.” He huffs walking off, discouraged but not completely set off.

“Harder, Tyler please-“ You whine, your legs drawing him in by his waist. He obeys, leaning down to kiss you as he does so, swallowing your increasingly loud moans. Your hand curls into his hair, gripping it tightly as he groans into your mouth. His cock feels so nice rutting into your pussy.

“Bet our little friend Xavi can’t fuck you this good.” He snidely remarks, having pulled away from your mouth just to comment in your ear. You shake your head quickly.

“No- only you, only you can fuck me this good-“ You babble, feeling the heat in your stomach grow. Tyler smirks at your quick assurance and dips his hand down to your clit, rewarding you.

“Good girl, that’s right.” He hisses with pleasure as your pussy squeezes his cock. He swirls a finger around your clit faster until your hips are bucking up into his, cumming as he finishes in your pussy. He gives you a few more rolls of his hips, making sure his cum is deep in you, before pulling out.

Xavier carefully moves his hand, making the painting before him come to life. You sat on a blanket in the grass, smiling through the paper. He sighs, slamming the sketchbook shut. He was never going to have that, not if he didn’t man the fuck up and tell you what exactly he wanted. He wasn’t ever completely honest with his intentions, he figured that’s what kept pushing you away. He was going to call you, and instead of tip-toeing around it he was going to ask you out.

“On your hands and knees, baby.” Tyler kisses you before letting you bend over. He gently grabs your ass and presses it back against himself. Your pussy clenching around nothing as he lightly slaps it with his hard cock. Right as he’s about to slide home, your ringtone goes off. Tyler picks up the phone and sees Xavier’s face light up on the screen. Smirking, he clicks answer and tosses the device near your head.

“Hello?” You answer, kind of annoyed about the interruption. Tyler makes it a little more bearable by easing into you.

“(Y/N)! Hey, I really needed to talk to you about something serious. Are you able to talk right now?” You roll your eyes, biting your lip as Tyler slides in and out of your cunt slowly.

“Yeah I’m good, what’s up?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About me and you, us, I mean…” Tyler speeds up his thrusts. “I know why you’ve been avoiding me, and I totally get it! You’ve been wanting me to just be straight up with you.” He states, you’re trying not to moan or laugh into the phone. Tyler wraps a hand around your waist and toys with your clit.

“Xavier, I-“ You quietly muster.

“Wait, I’m not done.” He interrupts.

“Me neither.” Tyler murmurs, you squeeze his cock, making him chuckle softly.

“(Y/N), will you go out with me?” You gasp as Tyler hits a spot deep inside of you, no doubt getting off on this conversation. A three way call and Xavi doesn’t even know. Xavier waits, hearing the gasp and getting excited for your acceptance.

“I’m sorry Xavier, it’s just- ah- you really should’ve told me sooner.” You try your best to sound sorry for him while pleasures fill your senses. The line stays quiet. Tyler reaches for the phone and holds it between his ear and shoulder while he grips your hips for more leverage.

“I’m sorry Thorpe, you snooze; you lose.” He pouts, letting Xavier hear the sinful slaps of his skin against yours before hanging up. When the phone is out of sight, he continues thrusting- harder and deeper than before. You finally let out the pent up moans and push back against his cock. He leans over you to whisper in your ear. “So good for me, denying him while my cock is deep inside your pretty little cunt.” Your breathy moan is all he needs to hear before stilling his hips and filling you up once again while your cum mixes with his, dripping onto his sheets below.

Xavier throws his phone across the dorm room, the device clattering to the ground. He couldn’t believe he was so trusting. Xavi just didn’t know.

#wednesday #x reader #wednesday netflix #tyler galpin #xavier thorpe #tyler galpin x reader smut #tyler galpin smut #smut

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sunnyfucks · 1 year

Note

most of the time sunoo is receiving, what if hes the one giving now???

a/n : down bad for dom sunoo so... thx bloei <3

“ BITCH, YOU LIKE IT! ” hard dom sunoo x fem reader. (ft enhypen hyung line!)

cw : SMUT with a little touch of angst hehe, them being tipsy, enemies to enemies lmao, lots of degrading stuff, slapping, pulling of hair, choking, jealousy, face fucking, a lot of cursing and f words. sunoo and reader both feeling frustrated towards each other. use of y/n.

“come on, jay! just one kiss!” everyone cheered as heeseung hypes the younger. “it wouldn’t hurt to place a kiss on sunghoon’s cheeks!” jake teased once more. jay faked a puke as he face his friend, sunghoon. “what the fuck bro, don’t you know how lucky you are right at this moment? girls and guys would kill to be on your position right now” sunghoon rolled his eyes playfully, boosting his own ego. “hurry up, jay! you’re taking so much time” someone on the side shouted. “okay okay! goddamn you all want to watch me kiss sunghoon that bad?! its even only on his cheeks!”

“damn, just do it” you said and you heard sunoo hissed. you side-eyed him and saw that he’s not looking at you but he has his jaw clenched. jay’s mouth hanged open, “even you y/n? god, i thought we’re like this” jay acted hurt and held his chest as he clink both his pinky fingers. “well, ofcourse we are but you’re taking so much time, jongseong” everyone laughed and cheered with your words. “y/n’s right. just kiss me so we can move forward!” sunghoon chuckles, obviously liking the fact that his friend is acting all shy. “aw, is the baby jjongsaeng pouting? what if i give you a kiss instead? aww come here baby~” sunghoon coo. jay made a face of disgust and held his mouth. “not the baby talk! its making everything much worst!”

bothered by everyone’s loud coos and teasing, jay clenched his fist and sighed. he stood up and went towards sunghoon. you on the other hand, watches as the scene infront of you unfold. sunghoon closed his eyes and pouted as if waiting for jay’s kiss to land on his lips, everyone laughed at this, but that’s just how sunghoon towards jay. he likes teasing him despite jay being older by months. “can i ask a question first?” jay suddenly said, gaining everyone’s attention. heeseung chuckles as he nods. “this is too much for me! so can i kiss y/n after i kiss sunghoon?”

your eyes widen as your ears were then bombered with everyone shouting and cheering. “all this time you’re into y/n? im so hurt!” sunghoon joked. you met jay’s eyes as he gives you a subtle smirk. “her lips just looks so tasty right now i can’t help myself” everyone gasped with how bold he’s being, you being one of them. “what do you say about that, y/n?” jake asked. you met jay’s eyes once again. “come on, y/n! make it quick!” said by someone on the room. you’ve always found jay attractive and hot, so ofcourse... “sure jay, hurry it up with sunghoon” you’d agree.

“what a bitch” sunoo muttered. everyone heard this and turned their heads towards the blond. “say it to my face, fucker” you muttered back. sunoo scoffed and clicked his tongue. “getting enough courage cause everyone’s here? you’re not only a bitch, but also an attention seeker. wow, you’re amazing” this time, its your turn to scoff. “being such a dick cause everyone’s here? wow, you’re really sick in the head. get it checked” jake being the intoxicated pretty boy that he is, laughed and placed his arm around sunoo’s shoulder. “yo yo yo, what the fuck suddenly happened between you too?”

heeseung patted jake’s shoulder as he shakes his head, giving him a signal to not interfere and leave you and sunoo alone. “why not get your pussy checked instead? you might be having a problem down there with how many guys you’ve fucked with” with this, your eyebrows furrowed and you can’t handle it anymore so you stood and faced sunoo who’s looking everywhere but you. “what did you just say? for your fucking information i don’t fucking fuck with strangers or with everyone. go get your dick checked instead cause that might be too damn small to even please your bitches” you’re fuming mad. he can’t be doing this here. you clenched your fist as everyone went into a 360 with how quiet they suddenly all went.

you don’t know when or where did it started. you don’t exactly know why the oh so pretty boy everyone adores feels so much rage whenever he’d see you. you don’t know what got into him. you don’t know why he thinks you’re a bitch, so what can you do about it? ofcourse.. hate him back. you feel sad about it.. cause despite him being this mean to you, you’ve seen how much he takes care of others. you’ve seen how warm of a sunlight he is towards everyone so why can’t he be to you too? its not like it would cost him a lot to stop being mean. “i hate you so much, sunoo” you mumble, ready to leave the room. “what the fuck did you just say?” sunoo stood up and held your arm. you turned to him and raised a brow. “get your fucking hands off of me” you said. sunoo scoffed again and bit his lower lip. “repeat what you said. i fucking dare you, y/n”

“fuck you and your small dick”

you don’t know what happened, but as soon as those words left your mouth, sunoo gathered all his strength as he gets and place you on his shoulder. “any vacant room?” he asks and heeseung, the owner of the house, nodded. “walk straight and you’d find one” the younger sighed and turned around, holding your legs tight. “what the fuck? you better put me down kim sunoo!” you slight-shouted as you wiggle your feet, slightly punching him on his back. “shut the fuck up, y/n. you better save up your strength. don’t think im letting you go that fast tonight.”

listen to this to add more feels !

you winced in pain the moment he threw you on the bed. it was soft, but the way he threw you hurted no matter how wiggly the mattress is. “go, fucking repeat what you said” he challenge. you faked a chuckle as your fingers brush your now messy hair back. “what? that i fucking hate you?” you fight back. he scoffed and brushed his locks. its amazing how good he looks right now, but you wouldn’t admit that to anyone. “you make me sick” you exhaled as you fake a laugh. “no sunoo, YOU make ME sick”

the gasp you let out when sunoo held your hair and pulled it is unbelievable, you almost moaned in pleasure. “come on, say it again” he challenge once again. he reek of alcohol and the pain of him pulling your hair is amazingly not subsiding. “what? cat got your tongue? you’re such a bitch earlier. what happened to that?”

you won’t admit it, but the way he’s basically manhadling you now is hot. its obvious he’s not on his right state of mind, but so are you and you’re afraid both of your frustrations would lead to something else. considering the fact that deep down, no matter how much you hate all his guts, there’s this sting cause you’re still hoping to befriend him. “you are fucking annoying, kim” you managed to say. sunoo shrugged as he lean forward near your ears. “really? then why do you fucking look like you’re enjoying this way too much?”

another gasp left your mouth when he aggressively wrapped his fingers around your neck. it wasn’t tight, but its enough to make you gasping for air. “its amazing how i can feel too much of my emotions just by looking at your face” he hissed at his own statement. he hates you. he hates how everytime you’d show up, he’d feel too much of his emotions. he hates how everyone caught your attention but not him. he hates how everytime you walk, your hair sways to the wind while everyone is in awe with its smell. he hates how you can be standing but still look the most stunning person he’s ever seen. he hates the fact that you’re not his. “you’re damn annoying” he says, contrary to whatever emotions he’s feeling.

sunoo never dated anyone. he doesn’t know what love is. he doesn’t know how falling inlove feels like. so whenever he sees you and he’s suddenly feeling too overwhelmed, he hates it. “i said it earlier and im going to say it again, fuck you sunoo” with this, you felt sunoo’s hand tighten around your neck. you wanted to cough, but the moment you opened your mouth and sunoo’s lips was suddenly attached to it, you were left dumbfounded.

the kiss was aggressive and sloppy. the tight grip sunoo has on your neck loosens as he slowly slid his fingers at the back of your head. he then guided you slowly down the bed and as he tops you, you felt his tongue asking permission to enter your mouth. when sunoo realized that you’re not letting him in, he aggressively pulled your shirt up as his hand finds it way to your boobs, pinching your bud hardly. your mouth hanged open and sunoo took it as an opportunity to let his tongue in you. “i fucking hate you, kim sunoo”

“likewise”

sunoo then held your thigh and suddenly turned you around. “ass up” he commands as his hands trail on your legs. “and fucking face down” he says as he climbs on top of the bed, aggressively pushing your head down the bed. “don’t try to act like you don’t like what im doing, y/n. we both know how wet you are right at this moment” you only sighed in response. he’s right. you’re wet and you’re fucking frustrated and annoyed by the fact.

you kept your head down while wondering what’s happening back there. you could only hear sunoo shuffling his things and his belt being unbuckled. after some time, you felt sunoo’s fingers teasingly dancing along the hem of your skirt. “pretty but annoying” he says, being pulling it in one down. he then placed his index finger on your clit, creating circles on it.

sunoo smirked as he felt the stickiness on your undergarment, you are indeed wet and he felt another sense of satisfaction with this. “see? bitch, you like it” you could only humm as you bury your face into the pillow you’ve started holding since you felt his finger on your entrance. “f- fuck you” sunoo chuckled, “fuck you as well, y/n.” he bites back, being pulling your underwear down, revealing your throbbing core. “look at you. you’re a fucking mess down here”

sunoo wasted no time. he’s feeling so annoyed to the point he really doesn’t care anymore whether you’d get hurt or not. all he wants is fuck you and let all his frustrations out. so he did what he had to. he slides his dick in, without prepping you or making you ready. you on the other hand, swore you’d make your lips bleed anytime soon. sunoo is thrusting his hips ruthlessly, like there’s no tomorrow.. and even if you’re indeed enjoying it, you can’t ignore the fact that what he’s doing hurts. not that you mind...

moans of both pleasure and pain enveloped the vacant room sunoo brought you in. you can hear how much the bed is squeaking and honestly, you don’t care anymore whether someone would hear the noises or not. sunoo is fucking you rough and that’s all you can think about. “you’re making me so fucking frustrated” he said between moans, and suprisingly, his hands finds itself to your hair again, pulling it more roughly than earlier.

it added a lot of pleasure, and this resulted to you moaning more loud and beautiful. it ringed through sunoo’s ear, and he hoped he could make you sing his name forever. it captivated him and he’s not in anyway regretful of how things turned to now. “you could say whatever you want a-and i’d say the same thing. only seeing y-your face makes my blood boil” sunoo laughed at what you said, he can’t believe how you’re still saying how much you hates him while moaning his name like there’s no tomorrow awaiting you. “fucking unbelievable”

sunoo stopped thrusting his hips, and so you thought he’d be done by now, but no, not when he suddenly turned you around to face him. not when he suddenly climbed on top of you. not when he suddenly slapped your face and continued fucking you roughly as his hand snakes on your neck. “how much do you hate me? i want you to say it while looking directly on my eyes” he challenge. you wish you could slap him. he smirked, making his fox-like eyes look half-lidded and droppy. “go say it, y/n. what happened to you saying it infront of the boys? come on, say it. i want to hear you saying it while im here fucking you” the smirk on his face irritates you so bad. but you can’t help but melt on his touch. “i- i hate you so much, s-sunoo”

he smirks, “really? fucking liar” he says, before bucking his hips aggressively. you then felt tears prickling the side of your eyes. sunoo continued to moan above you, watching every lewd expressions you’re giving. he wants to tell you a lot of things. he wants to say how much you’re enticing him, how much you’re looking all so pretty beneath him, how much your moans sends him to all the right places, he wants to say it all but he can’t and he wouldn’t.

sunoo then exhaled as he felt your hold tightening on his arm, you’re clenching around him so bad its making it harder for him to move fast, but he felt his own high coming and this made him grip your neck tighter than ever. “open your mouth, hurry”

you were dumbfounded once again, he’s moving so fast, rough, and quick. one thing he’s on your entrance fucking the hell out of it but now he has his dick all stuffed in your mouth. sunoo knows he wasn’t able to give you proper time to catch air before he did all this, but he can’t handle things any longer. so he cupped your face and aggressively bucked his hips forward.

you could only hold the sheets tight. you’re running out of breath and your chest hurts. you know you’re intoxicated but the deed is making you feel more dizzy. “fuck, im so close” you hear him moaning. you then decided to watch sunoo’s expressions. he was a moaning mess, his cheeks are redened, and his hair is all sticky against his forehead. “swallow everything and don’t leave any” he commands for the last time, before letting all his seeds out.

after making sure that there’s no more of his seeds left, sunoo plopped down the bed beside you, both of you catching for your breaths. neither of you started a talk. neither of you wants to talk about what happened. and so, you watched as sunoo stands up while getting his things. he then wore his fit one by one and when he’s all done, he brushed his hair before looking at you.

it wasn’t the gaze he usually has everytime he’d call you a bitch. it wasn’t the gaze he always have everytime you’d walk pass by. it was sad, it was down, it was broken. you waited for him to talk, and god knows how much you wished you didn’t.

“i hate you, y/n. always will.” he says and he turned back. his walk towards the door is heavy. cause he knows damn well he don’t. but what can he do? he knows how much you overwhelm and affect him and he wouldn’t like to be one day broke by that. he would never wish. he would never have the courage to be broken by someone like you. thus for him, its better this way.

ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー。

i just realized there’s not much of sunoo “giving” in here. i was so swayed, im sorry loooool. </3 hope you guys would like this still tho.

#sunoo smut #kim sunoo smut #sunoo hard thoughts #sunoo hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #sunnyfucks

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crazyintheeast · 2 years

Text

Sauron in Rings of Power

Sauron: Ok so I have been hiding in the cold cold north trying to create a new kind of power for the last thousand years. Things are not going well and I think the orcs might be a bit unhappy but they obey me so nothing can happen

Sauron: What the fuck? Did I just get shanked by a fucking orc!?!? I can't believe this shit. They would have never tried such a move with Morgoth. The sheer disrespect. Now I have to get a new body. Ugh being a spirit sucks Sauron: Ok so I have the body of a human now and orcs clearly suck so I should go to Numenor. They were always dumbasses and I bet I can corrupt them and get them to serve me. They would make way better minions then orcs. If I pose as a king I bet they would take me in Sauron: Holy shit is that Galadriel with the good hair? Damn I am so lucky. Numenor loves Elves. I bet they would immediately embrace me if I save her Sauron: Ok good news and bad news. Numenor doesn't like elves anymore which would make corrupting them easier. Bad news Galadriel is an anti social nightmare (which is REALLY hot) who pisses everyone off and people are pissed off at me by association Sauron: Ok as much I want to stay in Numenor Galdriel outed me as "King" so everyone will think I am a pussy if I stay. Plus I might get to kill that goddamn orc who shanked me Sauron: Oh my god that little shit actually hijacked my plan and is building Mordor himself. And my stupid goddamn body got injured as well. Ugh I hate it here. I swear to Eru if I have to find another body.... Sauron: Holy shit not only did Galdriel save me but she brought me to Celebrimbor who is nearly finished with MY RESEARCH! Oh my Eru things couldn't be better Sauron: It's ready . It's finally here. My research is finally complete. I will make a ring for me and for Galdriel and we will rule Middle Earth together.Everything's Coming Up Sauron! Sauron: Ok so Galadriel turned you down and she was so mean about it. But that's ok you don't need her . You are a strong self sufficient Maia and your feelings are not hurt. Let's just go to Mordor where she can't hurt your anymore.

#rings of power #the rings of power #lotr #sauron

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3am-dumbassery · 2 years

Text

MC on their period

Prompt: I am in copious amounts of pain and because I can

A/N: Yea this is completely self indulgent. I feel like shit rn and need some demon comfort.

This version is just the Brothers, but I might do the others later

TW: mentions of period and things that go with it (blood, pain, etc). Needless to say, fem-bodied reader, AFAB, (reader only referred to as "you") fluff?, Comfort

Characters: f!mc, Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

Dateables ver.

Lucifer

Actually the best

He knows what you need and when

Heat packs, pain killers, water, comfort food

He won't admit it, but he's worried. He hates seeing his human so distressed

Really concerned if you're in more pain than usual/vomiting

Might try to convince you to see a gyney/GP about it if it's really bad

Will probably let you stay home from RAD

Human blood will attract demons after all

Fr tho, ask him for anything and he's already got it before you finish the sentence

Worried parent™

Mammon

Panic

He smelt your blood when he barged in one morning

Probably screamed if you were still in bed

Once he understands the situation he will look horrified and run away

Only to return with so much stuff

Wasn't sure what size pussy you wear

Somehow convinced Lucifer to give him money to get it all and to let you both stay home if you can't go to school

Might take you to his room instead because he can watch over you 24/7 that way

Only if you want to tho

He is your personal carer for the entire time and will do anything you ask

"Yer my human after all, of course I'll take care of ya.... Only cuz Lucifer is making me do it, ya hear? Yer a lucky human to have The Great Mammon assigned to lookin after ya!"

Will offer cuddles if you want them but insist it's a one off

Protective as fuck. Will probably put a KEEP OUT sign on the door or something

Totally not worried about you. Why would you say that?

Leviathan

Panic 2.0

His player 2 is taking bleeding damage? IRL? Not on his watch

Looks up what you need

Orders so much for you on Akuzon

Asks Asmo if he has anything for you in the meantime

Won't come in unless you ask for him. He doesn't want you to have to deal with a yucky otaku when you feel like shit already

Brings his games and some of your comfort animes to your room so you aren't bored

Probably asks his brothers to bring you comfort things from their rooms

He really doesnt want you to be bored

Will be equally flustered and concerned the whole time

Probably gets things a bit wrong at first

wikiHow is probably not going to apply to everyone

Will figure out the bleed damage and the "attack pattern"

Please tell him he did a good job. He tried very hard

Satan

He's read about this

Employs Asmo to go buy supplies for you

Will tell Lucifer that you are staying home from RAD until you feel better

Suggests you stay in his room because it's quieter

Will take comfort things from his brothers for you

He'll read to you while you cuddle together

Unless you have a headache/don't want to

Will be almost nonexistent if that's what you need

He casts the most spells out of everyone to make sure you're comfortable

Noise spells, pain killing spells, sleep spells, protection spells

Very understanding if you're moody

Asmodeus

He knew before you did

He was already stocked on every product you'd need

Convinces you to stay in his room the night before

Somehow convinced Beel to get your fav human world comfort foods and not eat them all on the way home

Actually a self care god

Insists you keep up a self-care routine/let him take it over for you

You'll probably feel better than before when he's done with you

Kind of makes you wonder if he's had a period of his own before

Beelzebub

Beel smelt it coming

Another one that knows what to do

He learnt as part of his sporting health and safety - to help any female players

Another to ask Asmo for products but also advice

He will discuss with Lucifer also

Very concerned for your wellbeing

Might bring you to his room so Belphie can watch over you while he's eating/at a game

Also might take you to see a pro if you're in abnormally high levels of pain

Will cuddle lots

Might ask his twin for help if you're having trouble sleeping

Belphegor

He found out when he was trying to sneak into your bed for snuggles

Smelt the blood and fucking lost it

He thought you were injured or worse

Once he knows what happened, he texts everyone to bring things while he cuddles you

Becomes your personal heat pack for the duration

Asks Beel to help out. (He's the avatar of sloth. Man is lazy)

Might also bring you to his room so Beel can keep guard and make sure the others stay away

Makes the best cuddle nest you've ever seen

Hey all, thanks for reading! I'll probably update this a bit later (the twins parts felt a bit slack). For now though, I'm going to curl up and play my PS4 while I cuddle my cats. I'm sending all the support to my fellow menstruators, especially those of you who are also knocked out for a week like me. Treat yoself and I hope it improves!

#obey me #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #fluff #comfort #period mention #kiri writes #headcannons

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ilylovelyz · 2 years

Text

family oriented.

c/hyung line

❥main character(s): han felix seungmin i.n x afab!reader

❥genre: smut

❥(major) warning(s): incest, sibling incest, parent incest, uncle/niece incest, cousin incest, emotional manipulation, blackmail, cheating, threats of suicide, slapping, verbal abuse, han lowkey gets assaulted by y/n, getting caught, bullying, bodyshaming, assault, slut shaming, noncon, gangrape, forced triple penetration, jeongin's is straight up nasty, might not be the best for users with a weak stomach

han. your useless, yet well-liked brother.

from day one you always heard about what a wonder your older brother was.

not that u complained, he was a pretty good guy.

he was smart, funny, nice.

but also pretty attractive.

but at the same time, you hated him for it.

you always had to wonder and think abt the next knew person in your nice and decide if they are here for you or here for your brother.

it really made it hard to make friends.

things especially became hard when you both entered college and all everyone could want or think was han jisung.

your brother noticed it, too.

he felt unbearably guilty.

his sweet little sister, who deserved the world, would always be used and discarded like scum.

in return, he would constantly praise you and spoil you as best he could.

buying you clothes or accessories (even when he didn't have much money)

helping you, or even doing your homework for you (even if he struggled with the subject), and helping you de-stress.

he would happily push his own stress aside just for you for you to feel happy, even if it meant destroying himself in the process.

he could never say no to you.

after all, due to all the problems he causes you rooting from childhood, it's just his duty to take care of you right?

he would never say no to you.

even if what you are asking for is on the borderline of taboo.

it's been what? 2 hours since then? his jaw is aching from all of the sucking and licking he has done with his tongue. his face is covered in slick and fluids. oh yeah, and also you.

it's been 2 hours since you, much in your bratty and spoiled behavior, demanded that jisung stop doing whatever he was (not that you even asked, he was on call with his current girlfriend) and eat you out right there and then because you felt like it.

at first, he asked for five more minutes. just five more minutes wouldn't hurt right? he hadn't talked to his girlfriend all day. but no, you apparently couldn't handle five more minutes because in no time you were wailing that after all he's done to you he couldn't even do this one simple thing for you as repayment.

and him, being the doormat of an older brother he was, instantly felt bad. to be fair, it was his fault. he did cause a lot of pain for you. and now he couldn't even do this simple thing for you? he then felt worse as you began to cry out about how you'll just kill yourself since nobody loves you.

yeah, that was enough for him to grab you by your hips (not even caring that his girlfriend was still on call with him) and allow you to find a comfortable position on his face.

so yeah, again, it's been 2 hours since then. you've came many times (perhaps eight times? he can't help but think that you may be more gifted in the energy department) and you are about to come again. he can tell with every pull of his hair and mewl of yours.

"ah! jisung!" you moan, throwing your head back and tightening your thighs around his head with no care if he can even breathe at this point, happily grinding your clit into his nose. you look down when he muffles something into your soaked pussy, immediately swooning at the sight of his eyes filled to the brim with tears and adoration.

"w-what's that, older brother? got somethin' to say?" you smirk, lifting your hips a bit only for him to babble nonsense about how he promises to make you feel good, that he is sorry for treating you like shit. god, does him eating you out like madman, but god, does it feel even better to have your older brother, han jisung, wrapped around your finger.

you hum as response, taking residence back onto his face as he hungrily laps at your folds, diving his tongue into your hole. you lean back a bit, your hand finding the budge in his sweatpants. he hasn't came once. well, it's not like he could considering this was all about you, anyways. but regardless, from the way his clothed dick twitches and his hips begin to hump your hand, it's clear he does want to cum.

what a fucking self-centered bitch.

he yelps out when your hand strikes down onto the bulge in his pants, the tears in his eyes finally spilling out when your hand comes down onto his perfect face. "you fucking bitch! who said that this was about you, huh?" you yell, slapping him a couple of more times, ignoring his mumbles of apologies and him swearing that he'll never do it again.

gripping his face using your dainty hand, you squish his jaw, forcing him to pout. "'m shorwy," he mumbles, "i'll never d-do it again."

sitting up more, but making sure that his face doesn't escape your grasp, you take in look of your older brother before you.

is this really the same guy that everyone likes? you can't help but scoff at this. this guy, that everyone praises for his intelligence and charisma, is now a weak crying mess under you, eating out his younger sister, whom he is also letting slap the shit out of him for fucking up something so simple.

how is this guy so useless and well-liked at the same time?

felix. your closest friend. aka your cousin.

you and felix have been best friends for as long as you both remember.

you've been in each other's lives since diapers, which was understandable because you were both cousins.

but sometimes, people would think that because of how close you two were.

while most people you knew liked their cousins, they were never as close to them as you were with felix.

they never really spent all their time together, going out to the mall, trying out new food places, or just simply staying home and running around like children.

to simply put it, felix was your favorite person.

he was sweet, funny and cute.

the entire package.

and that alone just made it even more justified why you both are so close.

sometimes you guys would even be mistaken as girlfriend and boyfriend!

while it would earn an embarrassed whine from one of you, it's not like you both were against it either.

if you guys weren't cousins, then you probably would date each other!

but obviously, you were cousins, so you couldn't.

but that wouldn't stop you two from crossing the lines just a few times.

it was really no biggie!

just platonic love from two cousins.

whenever your family members would see you two run off like toddlers around the house despite being at your prime age, all they could think of "how cute. they are so close."

yeah, you two are veryy close.

perhaps closer than they intended.

surrounding the room you are in is your parents, felix's parents, your cousins and your siblings and uncles. you can hear then chatter and laugh amongst themselves whatever topic they've chose as of now. it's not like you really realized how close they are in hindsight, especially with the way felix is slowly working his cock inside your pussy.

"mhf.. felix.." you mewl through your hand which was currently covering your mouth to prevent your sinful noises. yeah, so sinful, whatever you two are doing. it was a sunday, too. you all just came back from church, confessing your sins to the lord but now here you are, being fucked stupid by your cousin.

"you feel so good, y/n.." he groans, his hand slipping up your pink dress and finding purchase onto your breast, squeezing and tugging at the bud there. "so fucking good." he mumbles, picking up speed.

whenever you two are in such a captivating position, you sometimes wonder what made you two come to this. i mean, you remember the first time you both "platonically" experimented with each other. god your first time with felix was so heavenly.

he got so overworked and got so overwhelmed that he completely forgot the meaning of a gentle first time and just began to jackhammer into you, completely ignoring your screams and moans that it was "too much", and how he was going to "break you."

in the end, he was still moving his cock in and out of you while your eyes were dull with exhaustion. your body limp and twitching. you came, squirted, and dry orgasmed and yet that boy still hadn't had enough, babbling dumbly about how he just needed "one more", and that he was "almost done." yeah what a lie that was.

you were immediately taken back to reality when you heard the doorknob to the room you both were currently in rattle violently. "felix? y/n? what are you two doing in there? your mom wants you y/n!" you hear one of your siblings shout, still trying the locked doorknob. you were both dumb, but luckily not dumb enough to leave the door unlocked.

"f-felix.." you whimper, tears filling your eyes to the brim as you realize he has no intent of stopping, simply focused on the nice feeling your gummy walls give his cock. "felix we need to stop-" you gasp, not being able to finish your sentence before he angles his hips in a purposeful manner so his tip finds that spot.

"i love you y/n." he admits, removing your hand so he can replace it with his lips, shoving his tongue gleefully down your throat. with no remorse for you, his hips slam into yours as he begins to jackrabbit into you, clearly ignoring the non-mistakable plap plap plap.

he swallows every moan and squeal as he rubs quick and tight circles onto your clit, pulling away to watch your body twitch and spasm as your orgasm washes over you before the sight becomes too much for him alone and he is dumping his seed into your abused pussy.

gasping and catching his breath, he makes eye contact with your sibling. clearly unfazed, he spits onto your slipped out tongue.

it's not like they didn't suspect you fucking your closest friend anyways. aka your cousin.

seungmin. that one mean uncle.

your uncle, seungmin was only 10 years older than you.

even though there wasn't that big of an age gap, he still acted like he was high and mighty.

you never really saw him a lot as a child.

and when you did, you always cried or just stayed away from him.

for some reason, that man always made fun of you.

even when you begged your mom to do something about it, she always shrugged it off with a "he's just looking out for you."

his bullying got progressively worse as you got older.

comments about your weight, appearance, clothing, everything, was suddenly important.

especially when you got to that age, he always made to make a snide "joke" about how you are probably talking to boys, or even just straight up told your mom to lock you up in the basement.

despite that, his comments for some reason, never failed you make you flustered and antsy.

but for what?

sure, your uncle was... attractive.

every time you showed one of your friends a picture of him or something they always swooned and "jokingly" said that they want your uncle.

when you became 18 and started college, suddenly his bullying became 10x worse.

heck, it even became physical.

when it was just the two of you, he would call you horrible names, and ask weird questions.

"are you a virgin? or are you prostituting yourself out already?"

"have you gotten yourself a boyfriend yet? you better get on your knees for him."

and even worse.. when he would bend you over his lap after you make a stupid mistake and spank you like a child at least 10 times before shoving you off of him and calling you a "dumb bitch."

if you hated him so much, then why would you always get so worked up at his comments? his bullying?

don't worry because he has an answer.

"it's because your a cock-sucking bitch." he scoffed. today he has had enough. he is tired of you parading around like a whore in those short shorts and bending over to reveal your lace panties. today, he is going to teach you a lesson, and you're going to take it like the supposed "big girl" you are.

"please stop.." you whimper, yelping out when his hand slaps down onto your nipple. right now, he has you standing against the wall. your tank top shoved above your breasts and his hands down your panties. "please stop what? you're enjoying this don't lie." he chides, ignoring the way you gasp at the sudden burn of him shoving two fingers into your virgin hole.

"what? you're a virgin?" he says, relishing in the way your eyes are overfilled with tears, your neck covered in bites and hickies. "ha, to be honest i thought you've slept with at least a 100 men now." he laughs, adding a third finger and picking up his speed. thank god your mother was stupid enough to leave you with him for the summer.

"ah-no! s-stop it! i'm not like that!" you plead, wiggling desperately as you try to get out of his hold. your actions are paused when he slaps you across the face. "quit squirming, bitch. before i actually give you a punishment and rape you in front of your stupid mom."

he smiles when you comply, just hoping that if you obey his commands, it'll be over quicker. however, from the way he watches you with a dark look in his eyes, this will probably not be the first and last time he does this.

pinching your nipple, he adds in a fourth finger, ignoring your screams and cries about how it hurts, simply moving his hand down to your clit and rubbing tight painful circles onto it. his fingers are violently rubbing against your gummy walls, and at this point, you can't tell if the stars are from pleasure or pain.

but that doesn't matter as with a slap onto your clit, squirt spilling out like a stream of piss. your cheeks burn with shame as he laughs, bringing his hand up to his mouth as he makes eye contact with you while licking your slick off his hands before rubbing the remainder on your tear ridden face and leaving you there, trembling and crying quietly.

yeah, this definitely wasn't going to be the last time. seungmin is one mean uncle.

i.n. your bully of a twin older brother.

your twin older brother, jeongin (likes to be called i.n for some reason) is to put it simply, an asshole.

he was always, always picking on you.

acting like he didn't know you when you were out with friends.

or just referring to you as his "mistake sister."

he was popular at school too, so his word was highly influenced.

at some point, everyone picked on his distaste for you and began picking on you too.

during your last year of high-school, you were so happy that you were going to leave

you were finally able to move away without being labeled as a runaway.

while the bullying spiked towards the end of the year

especially when your birthday came around, during the last few weeks, everything.. became quiet.

nobody talked to you.

nobody looked at you.

everyone was ignoring you.

which was total bliss.

even though you were completely confused by it, you never questioned it out loud.

even though you still heard people talking about you, it was like it was hearing mice.

you never saw the mice, but you heard it.

on the day of graduation, you were as lively as ever.

last minute however, you were invited to visit your homeroom class by one of your male friends after the graduation ceremony to "take in" the last moments of your high-school career.

and while you did not have the best memories with your school, you thought there would be no harm just to see your childhood off.

oh boy, nothing could've prepared you for what was to come.

it's been hours since you've arrived to the classroom. approximately, 3 hours. it's also been 3 hours since your brother and his group of dogs showed up unexpectedly. it's been 3 hours since they slammed you down onto your desks and forcefully ripped off your graduation gown and your pretty dress, too.

right now, you were on the uncleaned floor, your mouth and ass was filled with cock. you cried, you fought, and you spat. however, your resolve was quickly beaten the shit out of you.

"ya still here with us?" you hear a familiar voice say. mustering your strength to open your eyes again, you meet the eyes of your older twin brother, his eyes dark with hate and lust.

"mhf-!" you muffle, your mouth filled with the now-familiar taste of backed up semen, coughing it out when your mouth is free from the unfamiliar boy's cock. "hm, you suck dick like a pro." the boy says, smirking when some bile comes up with your saliva. before they stuffed your ass, they forced you to choke and practically clean off the dirt on their nasty unwashed cocks. it was absolutely disgusting. you threw up perhaps 4 times then.

the only part of you that was currently untouched was your pussy. as like jeongin said when your gangrape began, your virginity was his.

after the boy who was currently fucking your ass finally finished, jeongin took up residence between your slicked and marked thighs. poking and prodding at your pussy with his dick's tip, he mumbles something about how this was his repayment as your existence is the worst thing of his life before he, without a thought for you, shoves his cock in you in one go, ignoring the way your body jolts with pain.

"ha-y'know, i've always dreamt of this," he giggles, "i've always dreamt o-of putting you in your place." in one swift motion, he is pulling you on top of him, his eyes glued to your face as your mouth gets stuffed with another cock. your scream is muffled as another cock invades your ass again, all three clearly intent on breaking you.

"g-god, i always knew you were such a whore." he stutters, throwing his head back when he feels your clench around him, "f-fuck, i'm g-gonna-" he chokes, his thrusts speeding up and he practically humps you, his eyes rolling back as he empties his fertile seed into your virgin pussy.

after a while, he pulls out and removes you off of him, allowing your supposed "friend" to take his place as a reward of tricking you. he watches your gangrape for 5 minutes before leaving the classroom to go home. he could really care less what they do to you in there.

your bully of an older brother really hates you, y'know?

#stray kids #stray kids smut #skz smut

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