gracie abrams
Sweet Seals For You, Always
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Discoholic 🪩
Cosmic Funnies
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
todays bird
YOU ARE THE REASON
EXPECTATIONS
No title available
pixel skylines
Keni
🪼
Kiana Khansmith
Doug Jones
Fai_Ryy
Product Placement
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
No title available
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from Egypt
seen from Belarus
seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Kuwait
seen from Singapore
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from India
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
@chateaujoon
heyyy just finished my new wooyoung art, the way I started with colour, but changed my mind and did greyscale first AND THEN coloured it LOL but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out 🫀
✦
it's already on my Instagram page: heartonsleeve_ (link)
woo looks so beautiful!! ur art is amazing 🐈⬛🖤
ateez pirate au I already have some ideas for this au
of course involving Matz
𐙚 The Puppy Interview!
good for you
pairing: hongjoong x seonghwa (hj!top, hwa!bottom) explicit genre: +18 smut, established relationship wc: 5,6k summary: Hongjoong wasn’t lying: Seonghwa was good. And now, he had to prove it. Or, the truth behind that moan in “In Your Fantasy.” warnings: insecurity, comfort, possessiveness, praise kink, making out, blowjobs, anal sex, anal fingering, mirror sex, unprotected sex, accidental recording a/n: so… this is my first time posting here. I’m still figuring things out, but I did my best! originally published on ao3
All my work for sanegiyuu week 2025 on twt!!
what you don't know is that, after a couple minutes inside the house, stede goes " wait! we forgot about something" and Ed simply follows him outside because stede is not giving him an explanation and when they are standing in the porch again stede mutters something about doing things right, even if he didn't do this with mary but he had read about it in his books, and fucking picks ed up, who is too shocked to do anything but hold tight for the ride, and stede, in a show of unexpected strength, carries ed through the threshold and kisses him before putting him down and telling him they should go look for whatever smells so foul, leaving ed there, staring at his back, eyes wide, smiling like a fool in love
holy shit he has a tattoo
Years of Longing
Author's note: Sooo… Hongjoong rented a house for Seonghwa and him… how am I supposed to act normal about this?? I tried, I really did. But clearly, the only way I could cope was… I wrote this. Hongjoong is possessive af, and we know he’s been holding all that pent-up love, teasing, and claiming in for years. So yeap, you’re getting all the roughness, all the filthy worship, all the desperate, possessive kisses, and yes… double rounds. I may have also written entirely too many inner thoughts from Seonghwa, because let’s be real, I was living through him while I wrote it. Honestly, I can’t even think about that beach house scenario without my brain immediately going to: them, alone, all the teasing, all the claiming, all the lust. So this fic exists, and I hope you enjoy every messy, filthy, possessive second as much as I did while writing it. I do welcome feedback or any thoughts! Enjoy~ Bye-um~ Pairings: Seonghwa x Hongjoong Description: Alone in a rented beach house, Hongjoong’s years of longing and restraint finally spill over. Every lingering glance, every possessive touch, every whispered claim pulls Seonghwa deeper under his control. From teasing kisses to filthy, desperate anal thrusts, Hongjoong worships, dominates, and takes what’s always been his. Between confessions, double rounds, and relentless claiming, tonight isn’t just about desire—it’s about finally surrendering to the man who’s always loved you, fiercely and possessively. Warnings: Smut (18+), rough sex, teasing, possessive/dominant Hongjoong, anal sex, filthy worship, multiple orgasms, sexual tension, intense longing and frustration, biting/nipping, dirty talk, submissive Seonghwa, marking, multiple “mine” moments, overstimulation, emotional intimacy, explicit NSFW content, unprotected penetrative sex (please wrap it up IRL!) Read Before Proceeding: This content is for mature audiences only. It contains explicit sexual material and detailed depictions of sexual acts. Reader discretion is strongly advised. MDNI — Minors Do Not Interact. As always, take care of yourselves, read responsibly, and know exactly what you’re walking into before you do. Masterlist for my page: Lies Lost In Silence
The city felt different when it wasn’t weighed down by rehearsal schedules, cameras, and deadlines. For the first time in weeks, Hongjoong wasn’t thinking about setlists or outfits or what time the van would arrive. He was behind the wheel of a sleek Porsche 911, sunglasses pushed up the bridge of his nose, the Los Angeles sun spilling golden across the hood of the car. Beside him, Seonghwa sat with one arm resting casually against the door, hair brushed up by the coastal breeze that swept through the cracked windows.
The house Hongjoong had rented was perched right along the beach, a modern glass-and-wood structure with wide balconies that opened directly to the endless stretch of sand and ocean. When they pulled up the driveway, Seonghwa’s lips parted in awe.
“Wow…” he breathed, stepping out of the car, stretching his long limbs as he took in the view. “You really went all out.”
Hongjoong leaned against the hood of the car, smug but slightly nervous under Seonghwa’s gaze. “I figured we deserved something nice. Just us, for once.”
Something warm bloomed in Seonghwa’s chest at the words just us. He wanted to believe this meant what he hoped it did—that after years of teasing glances, subtle touches, and endless restraint, maybe Hongjoong was finally ready to cross that invisible line between them.
Inside, the house smelled faintly of cedar and sea salt. They carried in their bags, laughing about who had overpacked more, before Hongjoong suggested they hit the store to stock up.
It wasn’t anything special—just an upscale LA grocery store—but the way they moved through the aisles made them look like they’d been living together for years.
“Do we really need three different brands of cereal?” Hongjoong asked, raising a brow at the boxes piling up in their cart.
“Yes,” Seonghwa answered firmly, grabbing another box and tossing it in with a grin. “You never know what mood you’ll be in. Variety is important.”
Hongjoong laughed, shaking his head, but didn’t argue.
They picked out snacks, wine, fresh fruit, and seafood for grilling. At one point, Seonghwa reached past Hongjoong for a jar on the top shelf, his chest brushing Hongjoong’s shoulder, and the leader froze for half a second longer than necessary.
“Careful,” Hongjoong muttered, voice tight.
“I’ve got it,” Seonghwa said smoothly, turning his head just enough that Hongjoong caught the smirk tugging at his lips.
They bickered over which wine to get, shared a packet of chips in the car on the drive back, and argued like old lovers about who got to cook dinner later. By the time they carried the bags into the house, Seonghwa’s heart felt light. For a few hours, it was like they were in their own world, far from fans and managers and the ever-watching eyes of the industry.
Later that afternoon, with everything unpacked, Seonghwa suggested a swim. Hongjoong agreed, though he seemed more interested in lounging under the shade of the umbrella with his sunglasses on. He wore a loose tank top and dark swim shorts, his hair messy from the ocean breeze.
Seonghwa, meanwhile, was in a white t-shirt and shorts, the fabric already clinging faintly to his skin from the humid air. For a while they simply lay there, each sneaking glances at the other.
Then Seonghwa decided to push.
With deliberate slowness, he tugged the hem of his shirt up over his head, revealing the smooth lines of his torso, his tanned skin glowing under the sinking sun. He shook his hair out, smirking when he noticed Hongjoong’s jaw slacken just slightly before he quickly looked away, ears tinting red beneath his sunglasses.
“What?” Hongjoong asked, voice forced casual.
“Nothing,” Seonghwa chuckled, tossing his shirt onto the chair. “You’re staring.”
“I am not,” Hongjoong shot back too quickly.
“Sure,” Seonghwa teased, then darted toward the water. “Come on, old man! Don’t tell me you rented a beach house just to sit under an umbrella.”
Hongjoong tilted his head back, putting his sunglasses on again to cover the way his eyes shamelessly followed the way droplets clung to Seonghwa’s body. “I’m fine right here.”
But Seonghwa wasn’t letting him off that easily. He strode back up the sand, water trailing down his chest, skin glistening in the golden light. Standing over Hongjoong, he extended a dripping hand and pouted, lips curved into something dangerously sweet.
“Please?” he coaxed.
Hongjoong’s resolve cracked instantly. With a reluctant laugh, he slipped his hand into Seonghwa’s, letting himself be pulled up.
“Fine, fine. Don’t pout at me like that,” Hongjoong muttered, unable to hide his grin.
Seonghwa squeezed his hand. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
They ran into the waves together, laughter carried away by the tide. They splashed, wrestled playfully in the water, Seonghwa ducking under only to pull Hongjoong in with him. At one point, their chests brushed as they surfaced too close, both gasping for breath, eyes meeting for a fraction too long before one of them turned away.
By the time they stumbled back up the beach, wet hair clinging to their faces, both were laughing breathlessly.
The house had two bathrooms, thankfully, so they showered separately. Seonghwa lingered under the spray longer than usual, wishing Hongjoong had asked him to join, though he would never admit it out loud.
Dinner was simple—grilled fish, fresh salad, a bottle of wine they’d compromised on. They ate on the balcony overlooking the beach, the night sky vast above them. Conversation drifted to their trainee days, their younger selves, and funny stories about the other members.
Seonghwa found himself sighing quietly, watching the moonlight spill across Hongjoong’s face. Perfect. This is perfect, he thought. If only Hongjoong would just make a move already.
Later, they curled up on the couch with a movie. The tension was palpable, thick in the air. Their shoulders brushed every now and then, their thighs pressing closer than necessary. Seonghwa could feel the warmth of Hongjoong’s body, could hear every shift of his breath. He waited for something—a hand reaching for his, a glance held too long—but it never came.
When the credits rolled, Hongjoong stretched, covering a yawn.
“I’m heading to bed,” he announced casually.
Seonghwa blinked at him, stunned. “Oh. Right… goodnight.”
As Hongjoong disappeared down the hall, a cold weight settled in Seonghwa’s chest. Separate rooms? Really? After all this? He sat there, numb, wondering if he had imagined it all—the stolen glances, the subtle touches, the little smiles that felt like secrets. Had he mistaken friendship for something more?
No. He couldn’t accept that.
Something inside him snapped.
The house was quiet except for the steady roll of waves against the shore outside. Seonghwa sat frozen on the couch, the glow of the TV long since faded, his chest tight with anger and heartbreak. He could feel the sting of tears at the back of his eyes, hot and humiliating.
Nine years. Nine years of glances held too long, of teasing touches that lingered past the point of friendship, of soft smiles shared when no one else was looking. And yet, here they were—separate rooms, separate beds, like none of it had meant anything.
“No,” he muttered under his breath, pushing himself up so fast the blanket slipped off his lap. “I’m not doing this anymore.”
His feet carried him down the hallway before he even realized it. His pulse pounded in his ears, and by the time he reached Hongjoong’s room, his vision was blurred with tears. He shoved the door open without knocking.
Hongjoong, already sprawled on his bed in a loose t-shirt and shorts, startled upright, eyes wide.
“Seonghwa?” he asked softly.
But Seonghwa couldn’t hold it in any longer. Everything spilled out all at once—the frustration, the heartbreak, the years of biting his tongue.
“Do you even care, Joong?” Seonghwa’s voice cracked, his chest heaving. “Do any of those moments mean anything to you? The looks, the touches—was I imagining all of it? Were you just going to keep running away forever?”
Hongjoong’s lips parted, but no words came. He stared down at the sheets, hands clenching into fists.
Seonghwa laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and broken. “I waited. For years, I waited. Every time you brushed my hand, every time you smiled at me like I was the only one in the room—I thought… I thought maybe you wanted me too. But you’d rather hide in your room than face me. You’d rather leave me hanging than admit anything!”
Hot tears streaked down his cheeks as his voice rose. “Was I just some… some fantasy to you? Someone you could tease, someone to make you feel less lonely when you wanted, and then pretend nothing happened?”
His words hung heavy in the air, the silence unbearable. Seonghwa’s shoulders trembled, his breath coming hard and ragged. Hongjoong still said nothing.
“Fine,” Seonghwa whispered hoarsely, shaking his head as fresh tears burned his eyes. “If that’s all I was to you, then… then I’m done.”
He turned sharply, slamming the door behind him as he stumbled back to his room, clutching his broken heart like it might spill out of his chest. He curled up on his bed, face buried in the pillow, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.
Minutes passed—maybe ten, maybe twenty. The house seemed to hold its breath with him.
Then came a knock. Soft. Hesitant.
Seonghwa squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to move.
Another knock, a little firmer.
Still, he stayed silent.
The door creaked open anyway. Hongjoong slipped inside, his face pale, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. He hesitated by the doorway, then crossed the room slowly, stopping just short of Seonghwa’s bed.
“Hwa…” His voice cracked, and then it all came tumbling out.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I was scared, okay? Afraid of what it would mean if I admitted it. Afraid of the company, of the fans, of the whole damn world finding out. Pretending nothing was there—it was easier. Safer.”
He sank to his knees beside the bed, clutching at the blanket like a lifeline. His voice shook, breaking with each word. “But don’t you dare think it didn’t mean anything to me. Don’t you dare think you were just a distraction. From the moment we met… I’ve loved you, Seonghwa. I’ve loved you all this time, and it’s been killing me not to say it.”
Seonghwa’s breath caught, his tear-streaked face turning toward him in disbelief.
Hongjoong’s tears finally spilled over, streaking down his cheeks. He reached out with trembling hands, clutching at Seonghwa like he might vanish. “I’m sorry I made you doubt. I’m sorry I made you wait. But I swear to you—I’ve only ever wanted you.”
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Just the sound of their uneven breaths, their broken sobs filling the darkened room. Then, slowly, Seonghwa reached for him.
Hongjoong surged forward, burying his face against Seonghwa’s chest as his arms wrapped around him tightly. They clung to each other desperately, like two men finally allowed to breathe after years underwater.
“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong whispered again and again, words muffled against Seonghwa’s skin. “I’m sorry. I love you. I love you so much.”
Seonghwa’s throat ached, his hands trembling as he cradled the back of Hongjoong’s head. “You idiot,” he whispered hoarsely, pressing his lips to Hongjoong’s damp hair. “You absolute idiot. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that?”
Hongjoong pulled back just enough to look at him, their faces inches apart, tears still clinging to their lashes. His thumb brushed across Seonghwa’s cheek, wiping away a tear, and then he leaned in, pressing his lips to Seonghwa’s in a kiss that was soft, trembling, and overdue by nearly a decade.
Seonghwa gasped into it, his whole body shuddering as he melted against him.
The dam had broken.
The kiss deepened, grew frantic, years of longing crashing through all at once. Hongjoong eased Seonghwa back onto the bed, their bodies tangling together, lips never parting except to breathe raggedly against each other.
For the first time in years, there was no restraint. No hiding. No running away.
Their mouths collided again, harder this time, as though neither of them could bear the thought of breaking apart. Hongjoong’s lips moved urgently against Seonghwa’s, sucking, biting, tasting the salt of his tears. Every kiss was a confession, every brush of his tongue a desperate I’m sorry, I need you, I love you.
Seonghwa gasped into the onslaught, fingers fisting the front of Hongjoong’s shirt to drag him closer. “Fuck, Joong…” he breathed between kisses, his voice cracking with need.
Hongjoong eased him back against the pillows, hovering over him, their legs tangling together. His hands trembled as he pushed Seonghwa’s damp hair back from his face, eyes roaming hungrily like he was seeing him for the first time all over again.
“You’re so beautiful,” Hongjoong whispered, voice raw. “Always have been. I should’ve said it years ago.”
Seonghwa’s chest heaved. “Then say it now.”
Hongjoong’s answer came in the form of a kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth, then down the line of his jaw, then lower still. He mouthed across Seonghwa’s throat, sucking harshly at the sensitive skin until Seonghwa gasped, tilting his head back.
His hands wandered down, tugging Seonghwa’s shirt up inch by inch until the fabric bunched around his chest. Hongjoong pulled back just long enough to strip it off him completely, tossing it aside without care.
Seonghwa’s breath hitched as he lay there bare-chested under Hongjoong’s gaze, his skin glowing in the dim light, muscles taut and trembling.
“Fuck…” Hongjoong muttered, eyes darkening. He lowered his mouth, lips wrapping around one of Seonghwa’s nipples. The sudden wet heat made Seonghwa arch with a sharp gasp, his fingers tangling in Hongjoong’s hair.
“Joong—ah, fuck—”
Hongjoong sucked harder, his tongue flicking over the hardened bud before biting down just enough to make Seonghwa’s hips jerk. He groaned against his chest, wet, messy sounds filling the room as he switched to the other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention until Seonghwa was panting, tugging desperately at his hair.
“You taste so good,” Hongjoong mumbled against his skin, trailing hot kisses lower, across the planes of his abs, down toward the waistband of his shorts. Each press of his lips was accompanied by whispered apologies and promises, his breath hot against Seonghwa’s skin.
“I’ll make it up to you. Every second I wasted, every time I made you doubt—I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
Seonghwa’s head fell back, eyes fluttering shut. He was dizzy, his mind reeling from everything—the confession, the kisses, the feel of Hongjoong’s hands and mouth finally on him after all these years.
Then Hongjoong tugged his shorts down, dragging the fabric past his thighs until Seonghwa lay bare beneath him. Seonghwa’s cock slapped against his stomach, already hard and leaking.
“God…” Hongjoong’s voice cracked, eyes fixed on him like he was something sacred. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Seonghwa’s hip, then lower, teasing the inside of his thigh. “You’re perfect, Hwa. So fucking perfect.”
Seonghwa groaned, hips twitching, need coiling tight in his gut. “Stop teasing,” he rasped.
But Hongjoong only smirked, settling between his thighs, lips brushing over the flushed head of his cock. “I’ve waited years for this. Let me take my time.”
And then he swallowed him whole.
Seonghwa choked on a gasp, his back arching off the bed as Hongjoong’s mouth closed tight around him. The wet heat was overwhelming, tongue dragging along the underside as he bobbed his head, taking him deeper with each pass.
“Fuck—Joong—oh my god—”
Hongjoong moaned around him, the vibrations making Seonghwa’s thighs tremble. His hands clutched at the sheets, then found their way to Hongjoong’s hair, tugging helplessly as his cock slid in and out of that perfect mouth.
“Shit, you look so good like this,” Hongjoong groaned when he pulled back briefly, saliva glistening on his chin. He licked the head, slow and filthy, before sinking down again. “Always wanted to taste you.”
Seonghwa’s breath came in broken gasps, his body trembling. “I’m—I’m gonna—”
Hongjoong swallowed him deeper, throat tightening around him, moaning like he wanted it. That was all it took.
Seonghwa came with a strangled whimper, spilling hot down Hongjoong’s throat. His body jerked, hips stuttering, mouth falling open in a silent cry.
Hongjoong swallowed it all, licking him clean, groaning as though he couldn’t get enough. When he finally pulled back, his lips were red, swollen, slick with spit. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glazed with lust.
“Fuck…” Seonghwa panted, chest heaving. “You’re insane.”
Hongjoong crawled up his body, kissing him hard, letting Seonghwa taste himself on his tongue. “I told you, baby,” he whispered against his lips, voice low and filthy. “I’ll worship you tonight. Every inch of you belongs to me.”
Their mouths collided again, harder this time, desperate and hungry. Every kiss was a release of years of longing, every touch a silent confession. Hongjoong’s lips moved urgently against Seonghwa’s, sucking and nibbling along his jaw and neck.
Seonghwa moaned into him, hands clutching Hongjoong’s shoulders. “Joong… fuck…”
Hongjoong eased him back onto the bed, body pressing against him, hands roaming possessively. “You’re mine, Hwa. Always have been,” he whispered, voice low and rough. “I’ve wanted this… I’ve wanted you.”
Seonghwa shivered at the intensity, every nerve alive under Hongjoong’s touch. “Then… then stop teasing me…”
Hongjoong smirked darkly, letting his hands drift down to Seonghwa’s hips, brushing over the soft, taut muscles of his ass. “I’ve waited years to worship you like this,” he murmured. “Every inch of you… mine tonight.”
He pressed open-mouthed kisses along Seonghwa’s shoulders, down his sides, lingering over the curve of his hips. Fingers traced the warm, tight ring of his entrance, teasing him just enough to make him gasp and arch against him.
“You feel so good, Hwa,” Hongjoong murmured, voice low, rough. “So tight… so perfect. Always mine…”
Seonghwa’s chest heaved, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “Joong… please…”
Hongjoong chuckled against his skin, dragging his mouth lower, lips brushing across the small of his back, teasing him mercilessly. “I’m not done yet,” he whispered. “Gonna take my time, worship every inch… make you mine completely.”
Seonghwa groaned, hands fisting the sheets. “I’m yours… Joong… I’ve always been yours…”
Hongjoong kissed the back of his thighs, brushing just shy of entry, letting Seonghwa squirm. “So good for me… always… now I get to take all of you,” he murmured, teasing and praising, letting his voice grow filthy with need.
He eased one finger inside him first, careful and deliberate, letting Seonghwa adjust to the warm, tight stretch. Every movement made him moan against Hongjoong’s mouth, hands clutching his shoulders.
“You feel so incredible, Hwa. Always have.” Hongjoong whispered, curling his fingers, testing the tightness, dragging out every reaction from Seonghwa. “So perfect for me. Mine.” Seonghwa’s breath hitched, body trembling.
Finally, he pulled back slightly, lips brushing Seonghwa’s in a rough, lingering kiss. He lined himself up, tip pressing against the tight, warm ring. “Ready for me?” he asked, teasing slightly, thumb brushing over his hip.
Seonghwa nodded, body trembling. “Yes… please…”
Slowly, agonizingly, Hongjoong pushed in, inch by inch. Seonghwa hissed at the fullness, chest arching instinctively, hands gripping Hongjoong’s shoulders. Hongjoong stayed still for a moment, letting him adjust, then began to move—first slow, savoring the tight, warm embrace.
“You’re mine, baby,” he growled, voice low and filthy. “So tight… so perfect… always mine.”
Seonghwa moaned loudly, hips instinctively moving with him. “Joong… harder…”
Obediently, Hongjoong began thrusting deeper, each motion deliberate, rolling his hips to make sure every inch of him was worshipped. His hands roamed over Seonghwa’s body—gripping ass, chest, shoulders—never leaving him untouched.
“You’ve been perfect for me all these years,” Hongjoong whispered, voice rough. “I’ve wanted this… wanted you like this… for so long.”
Seonghwa’s cries filled the room, echoing with the heat of years of longing and restraint. The pace quickened, thrusts becoming harder, hips slamming together. Hongjoong’s filthy praise mingled with Seonghwa’s moans.
“Mine… all mine… so tight for me… so fucking perfect…” Hongjoong growled. “Say it, baby… say you’re mine for me.”
“I’m yours… all yours… forever…” Seonghwa gasped, voice breaking, body shuddering.
The bed creaked under them, sweat glistening on their bodies. Seonghwa’s hips jerked involuntarily with every thrust, muscles clenching around him, and Hongjoong groaned, losing himself to the feeling.
Finally, Seonghwa’s release hit, hips spasming around him, letting out a strangled whimper. Hongjoong rode it through, gritting his teeth, and with a guttural moan, he followed, spilling deep inside Seonghwa.
They collapsed together, chests heaving, foreheads pressed, hearts pounding. Hongjoong kissed along Seonghwa’s temple, murmuring soft apologies and promises.
“I’ll never hide again,” he whispered. “Never. You’re mine… forever.”
Seonghwa clutched him close, feeling the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart grounding him. “Finally… finally, it’s us,” he breathed, letting himself melt into Hongjoong’s embrace. Hours had passed, but neither of them had truly slept. They lay tangled in the sheets, chest to chest, hearts still racing. Hongjoong’s lips traced lazy, teasing kisses along Seonghwa’s collarbone, shoulder, jaw. Each brush of his mouth made Seonghwa shiver.
Hongjoong’s lips never left Seonghwa’s, pressing, biting, teasing, while his hands roamed possessively over his body. “You’re driving me insane,” he whispered, voice low and rough, teeth grazing Seonghwa’s jaw.
Seonghwa arched against him, breath hitching. “Joong… please… don’t stop…”
Hongjoong rolled lower, pressing against Seonghwa’s hip. Fingers traced the warm, tight ring of his entrance, teasing him slowly, stretching him just enough to make him whimper and grip the sheets. “So ready for me,” he murmured. “So tight… always perfect…”
Seonghwa’s voice cracked with need. “Joong… I want you…”
With a deep, guttural groan, Hongjoong positioned himself, tip pressing against Seonghwa’s entrance. Slowly, agonizingly, he eased inside, inch by inch, feeling the warmth and tightness coil around him. Seonghwa hissed, hips arching instinctively, hands clutching his shoulders.
“God… you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” Hongjoong groaned, thrusting slowly at first, savoring the tight warmth around him. “How many times I’ve jerked myself thinking about this… thinking about how you’d feel under me… how your face would look when I hit it just right… hell, even just imagining your lips…”
Seonghwa gasped, hips trembling. “Joong… I… I did the same,” he admitted, voice ragged. “I… I thought about you like that… so many times…”
Hongjoong’s grip on his hips tightened, rolling into him harder, every thrust deliberate. “All of you… mine… I’ve dreamed of this… you like this… so perfect… so fucking mine…”
Seonghwa moaned loudly, body shivering. “Joong… harder… I need you…”
Hongjoong didn’t hesitate. He went harder, pounding into Seonghwa with relentless, deliberate thrusts, each one stretching him, hitting all the right spots, making them both gasp and groan.
Hongjoong leaned down, biting the side of Seonghwa’s neck as he drove into him, one hand gripping his hip, the other kneading his ass. “So good… taking me so well… such a perfect baby for me…” he growled, voice low and filthy, savoring every reaction he elicited from Seonghwa.
Seonghwa’s cries filled the room, mingling with Hongjoong’s moans. Each thrust was long, deep, deliberate, as though making up for all the years of longing, teasing, and denial.
The tension coiled tighter and tighter, muscles trembling, breath coming in ragged gasps. Seonghwa came first, body spasming around Hongjoong, letting out a strangled whimper of release. Hongjoong groaned, thrusting through it, and finally spilled inside him with a guttural cry.
They collapsed together, sweaty, trembling, hearts pounding. Hongjoong pressed soft, lingering kisses along Seonghwa’s shoulders and neck, whispering apologies and promises.
They stayed tangled in each other’s arms, whispering, kissing, and letting the aftershocks of passion calm them. No more pretending. No more hiding. Just them, together, at last.
i think they're cute
futile devices
pairing: hongjoong x seonghwa (hj!top, hwa!bottom)
explicit
wc: 16,3k
summary:
Hongjoong had started to notice it: Seonghwa was thinking about marriage.
Or, the one where they buy promise rings in Milan and get married.
genre: canon compliant, established relationship, 18+smut, 'wedding' ceremony, a lot of fluff
tags: marriage, fluff, insecurity, promise rings, anal sex, anal fingering, thigh riding, porn with (a lot of) plot, lingerie, butt plug, mirror sex
a/n: I know I should be finishing the last chapter of my other fic, but this idea completely took over my brain. I hope you enjoy it!
originally published on ao3
Years of Longing
Author's note: Sooo… Hongjoong rented a house for Seonghwa and him… how am I supposed to act normal about this?? I tried, I really did. But clearly, the only way I could cope was… I wrote this. Hongjoong is possessive af, and we know he’s been holding all that pent-up love, teasing, and claiming in for years. So yeap, you’re getting all the roughness, all the filthy worship, all the desperate, possessive kisses, and yes… double rounds. I may have also written entirely too many inner thoughts from Seonghwa, because let’s be real, I was living through him while I wrote it. Honestly, I can’t even think about that beach house scenario without my brain immediately going to: them, alone, all the teasing, all the claiming, all the lust. So this fic exists, and I hope you enjoy every messy, filthy, possessive second as much as I did while writing it. I do welcome feedback or any thoughts! Enjoy~ Bye-um~ Pairings: Seonghwa x Hongjoong Description: Alone in a rented beach house, Hongjoong’s years of longing and restraint finally spill over. Every lingering glance, every possessive touch, every whispered claim pulls Seonghwa deeper under his control. From teasing kisses to filthy, desperate anal thrusts, Hongjoong worships, dominates, and takes what’s always been his. Between confessions, double rounds, and relentless claiming, tonight isn’t just about desire—it’s about finally surrendering to the man who’s always loved you, fiercely and possessively. Warnings: Smut (18+), rough sex, teasing, possessive/dominant Hongjoong, anal sex, filthy worship, multiple orgasms, sexual tension, intense longing and frustration, biting/nipping, dirty talk, submissive Seonghwa, marking, multiple “mine” moments, overstimulation, emotional intimacy, explicit NSFW content, unprotected penetrative sex (please wrap it up IRL!) Masterlist for my page: Lies Lost In Silence
The city felt different when it wasn’t weighed down by rehearsal schedules, cameras, and deadlines. For the first time in weeks, Hongjoong wasn’t thinking about setlists or outfits or what time the van would arrive. He was behind the wheel of a sleek Porsche 911, sunglasses pushed up the bridge of his nose, the Los Angeles sun spilling golden across the hood of the car. Beside him, Seonghwa sat with one arm resting casually against the door, hair brushed up by the coastal breeze that swept through the cracked windows.
The house Hongjoong had rented was perched right along the beach, a modern glass-and-wood structure with wide balconies that opened directly to the endless stretch of sand and ocean. When they pulled up the driveway, Seonghwa’s lips parted in awe.
“Wow…” he breathed, stepping out of the car, stretching his long limbs as he took in the view. “You really went all out.”
Hongjoong leaned against the hood of the car, smug but slightly nervous under Seonghwa’s gaze. “I figured we deserved something nice. Just us, for once.”
Something warm bloomed in Seonghwa’s chest at the words just us. He wanted to believe this meant what he hoped it did—that after years of teasing glances, subtle touches, and endless restraint, maybe Hongjoong was finally ready to cross that invisible line between them.
Inside, the house smelled faintly of cedar and sea salt. They carried in their bags, laughing about who had overpacked more, before Hongjoong suggested they hit the store to stock up.
It wasn’t anything special—just an upscale LA grocery store—but the way they moved through the aisles made them look like they’d been living together for years.
“Do we really need three different brands of cereal?” Hongjoong asked, raising a brow at the boxes piling up in their cart.
“Yes,” Seonghwa answered firmly, grabbing another box and tossing it in with a grin. “You never know what mood you’ll be in. Variety is important.”
Hongjoong laughed, shaking his head, but didn’t argue.
They picked out snacks, wine, fresh fruit, and seafood for grilling. At one point, Seonghwa reached past Hongjoong for a jar on the top shelf, his chest brushing Hongjoong’s shoulder, and the leader froze for half a second longer than necessary.
“Careful,” Hongjoong muttered, voice tight.
“I’ve got it,” Seonghwa said smoothly, turning his head just enough that Hongjoong caught the smirk tugging at his lips.
They bickered over which wine to get, shared a packet of chips in the car on the drive back, and argued like old lovers about who got to cook dinner later. By the time they carried the bags into the house, Seonghwa’s heart felt light. For a few hours, it was like they were in their own world, far from fans and managers and the ever-watching eyes of the industry.
Later that afternoon, with everything unpacked, Seonghwa suggested a swim. Hongjoong agreed, though he seemed more interested in lounging under the shade of the umbrella with his sunglasses on. He wore a loose tank top and dark swim shorts, his hair messy from the ocean breeze.
Seonghwa, meanwhile, was in a white t-shirt and shorts, the fabric already clinging faintly to his skin from the humid air. For a while they simply lay there, each sneaking glances at the other.
Then Seonghwa decided to push.
With deliberate slowness, he tugged the hem of his shirt up over his head, revealing the smooth lines of his torso, his tanned skin glowing under the sinking sun. He shook his hair out, smirking when he noticed Hongjoong’s jaw slacken just slightly before he quickly looked away, ears tinting red beneath his sunglasses.
“What?” Hongjoong asked, voice forced casual.
“Nothing,” Seonghwa chuckled, tossing his shirt onto the chair. “You’re staring.”
“I am not,” Hongjoong shot back too quickly.
“Sure,” Seonghwa teased, then darted toward the water. “Come on, old man! Don’t tell me you rented a beach house just to sit under an umbrella.”
Hongjoong tilted his head back, putting his sunglasses on again to cover the way his eyes shamelessly followed the way droplets clung to Seonghwa’s body. “I’m fine right here.”
But Seonghwa wasn’t letting him off that easily. He strode back up the sand, water trailing down his chest, skin glistening in the golden light. Standing over Hongjoong, he extended a dripping hand and pouted, lips curved into something dangerously sweet.
“Please?” he coaxed.
Hongjoong’s resolve cracked instantly. With a reluctant laugh, he slipped his hand into Seonghwa’s, letting himself be pulled up.
“Fine, fine. Don’t pout at me like that,” Hongjoong muttered, unable to hide his grin.
Seonghwa squeezed his hand. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
They ran into the waves together, laughter carried away by the tide. They splashed, wrestled playfully in the water, Seonghwa ducking under only to pull Hongjoong in with him. At one point, their chests brushed as they surfaced too close, both gasping for breath, eyes meeting for a fraction too long before one of them turned away.
By the time they stumbled back up the beach, wet hair clinging to their faces, both were laughing breathlessly.
The house had two bathrooms, thankfully, so they showered separately. Seonghwa lingered under the spray longer than usual, wishing Hongjoong had asked him to join, though he would never admit it out loud.
Dinner was simple—grilled fish, fresh salad, a bottle of wine they’d compromised on. They ate on the balcony overlooking the beach, the night sky vast above them. Conversation drifted to their trainee days, their younger selves, and funny stories about the other members.
Seonghwa found himself sighing quietly, watching the moonlight spill across Hongjoong’s face. Perfect. This is perfect, he thought. If only Hongjoong would just make a move already.
Later, they curled up on the couch with a movie. The tension was palpable, thick in the air. Their shoulders brushed every now and then, their thighs pressing closer than necessary. Seonghwa could feel the warmth of Hongjoong’s body, could hear every shift of his breath. He waited for something—a hand reaching for his, a glance held too long—but it never came.
When the credits rolled, Hongjoong stretched, covering a yawn.
“I’m heading to bed,” he announced casually.
Seonghwa blinked at him, stunned. “Oh. Right… goodnight.”
As Hongjoong disappeared down the hall, a cold weight settled in Seonghwa’s chest. Separate rooms? Really? After all this? He sat there, numb, wondering if he had imagined it all—the stolen glances, the subtle touches, the little smiles that felt like secrets. Had he mistaken friendship for something more?
No. He couldn’t accept that.
Something inside him snapped.
The house was quiet except for the steady roll of waves against the shore outside. Seonghwa sat frozen on the couch, the glow of the TV long since faded, his chest tight with anger and heartbreak. He could feel the sting of tears at the back of his eyes, hot and humiliating.
Nine years. Nine years of glances held too long, of teasing touches that lingered past the point of friendship, of soft smiles shared when no one else was looking. And yet, here they were—separate rooms, separate beds, like none of it had meant anything.
“No,” he muttered under his breath, pushing himself up so fast the blanket slipped off his lap. “I’m not doing this anymore.”
His feet carried him down the hallway before he even realized it. His pulse pounded in his ears, and by the time he reached Hongjoong’s room, his vision was blurred with tears. He shoved the door open without knocking.
Hongjoong, already sprawled on his bed in a loose t-shirt and shorts, startled upright, eyes wide.
“Seonghwa?” he asked softly.
But Seonghwa couldn’t hold it in any longer. Everything spilled out all at once—the frustration, the heartbreak, the years of biting his tongue.
“Do you even care, Joong?” Seonghwa’s voice cracked, his chest heaving. “Do any of those moments mean anything to you? The looks, the touches—was I imagining all of it? Were you just going to keep running away forever?”
Hongjoong’s lips parted, but no words came. He stared down at the sheets, hands clenching into fists.
Seonghwa laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and broken. “I waited. For years, I waited. Every time you brushed my hand, every time you smiled at me like I was the only one in the room—I thought… I thought maybe you wanted me too. But you’d rather hide in your room than face me. You’d rather leave me hanging than admit anything!”
Hot tears streaked down his cheeks as his voice rose. “Was I just some… some fantasy to you? Someone you could tease, someone to make you feel less lonely when you wanted, and then pretend nothing happened?”
His words hung heavy in the air, the silence unbearable. Seonghwa’s shoulders trembled, his breath coming hard and ragged. Hongjoong still said nothing.
“Fine,” Seonghwa whispered hoarsely, shaking his head as fresh tears burned his eyes. “If that’s all I was to you, then… then I’m done.”
He turned sharply, slamming the door behind him as he stumbled back to his room, clutching his broken heart like it might spill out of his chest. He curled up on his bed, face buried in the pillow, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.
Minutes passed—maybe ten, maybe twenty. The house seemed to hold its breath with him.
Then came a knock. Soft. Hesitant.
Seonghwa squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to move.
Another knock, a little firmer.
Still, he stayed silent.
The door creaked open anyway. Hongjoong slipped inside, his face pale, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. He hesitated by the doorway, then crossed the room slowly, stopping just short of Seonghwa’s bed.
“Hwa…” His voice cracked, and then it all came tumbling out.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I was scared, okay? Afraid of what it would mean if I admitted it. Afraid of the company, of the fans, of the whole damn world finding out. Pretending nothing was there—it was easier. Safer.”
He sank to his knees beside the bed, clutching at the blanket like a lifeline. His voice shook, breaking with each word. “But don’t you dare think it didn’t mean anything to me. Don’t you dare think you were just a distraction. From the moment we met… I’ve loved you, Seonghwa. I’ve loved you all this time, and it’s been killing me not to say it.”
Seonghwa’s breath caught, his tear-streaked face turning toward him in disbelief.
Hongjoong’s tears finally spilled over, streaking down his cheeks. He reached out with trembling hands, clutching at Seonghwa like he might vanish. “I’m sorry I made you doubt. I’m sorry I made you wait. But I swear to you—I’ve only ever wanted you.”
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Just the sound of their uneven breaths, their broken sobs filling the darkened room. Then, slowly, Seonghwa reached for him.
Hongjoong surged forward, burying his face against Seonghwa’s chest as his arms wrapped around him tightly. They clung to each other desperately, like two men finally allowed to breathe after years underwater.
“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong whispered again and again, words muffled against Seonghwa’s skin. “I’m sorry. I love you. I love you so much.”
Seonghwa’s throat ached, his hands trembling as he cradled the back of Hongjoong’s head. “You idiot,” he whispered hoarsely, pressing his lips to Hongjoong’s damp hair. “You absolute idiot. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that?”
Hongjoong pulled back just enough to look at him, their faces inches apart, tears still clinging to their lashes. His thumb brushed across Seonghwa’s cheek, wiping away a tear, and then he leaned in, pressing his lips to Seonghwa’s in a kiss that was soft, trembling, and overdue by nearly a decade.
Seonghwa gasped into it, his whole body shuddering as he melted against him.
The dam had broken.
The kiss deepened, grew frantic, years of longing crashing through all at once. Hongjoong eased Seonghwa back onto the bed, their bodies tangling together, lips never parting except to breathe raggedly against each other.
For the first time in years, there was no restraint. No hiding. No running away.
Their mouths collided again, harder this time, as though neither of them could bear the thought of breaking apart. Hongjoong’s lips moved urgently against Seonghwa’s, sucking, biting, tasting the salt of his tears. Every kiss was a confession, every brush of his tongue a desperate I’m sorry, I need you, I love you.
Seonghwa gasped into the onslaught, fingers fisting the front of Hongjoong’s shirt to drag him closer. “Fuck, Joong…” he breathed between kisses, his voice cracking with need.
Hongjoong eased him back against the pillows, hovering over him, their legs tangling together. His hands trembled as he pushed Seonghwa’s damp hair back from his face, eyes roaming hungrily like he was seeing him for the first time all over again.
“You’re so beautiful,” Hongjoong whispered, voice raw. “Always have been. I should’ve said it years ago.”
Seonghwa’s chest heaved. “Then say it now.”
Hongjoong’s answer came in the form of a kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth, then down the line of his jaw, then lower still. He mouthed across Seonghwa’s throat, sucking harshly at the sensitive skin until Seonghwa gasped, tilting his head back.
His hands wandered down, tugging Seonghwa’s shirt up inch by inch until the fabric bunched around his chest. Hongjoong pulled back just long enough to strip it off him completely, tossing it aside without care.
Seonghwa’s breath hitched as he lay there bare-chested under Hongjoong’s gaze, his skin glowing in the dim light, muscles taut and trembling.
“Fuck…” Hongjoong muttered, eyes darkening. He lowered his mouth, lips wrapping around one of Seonghwa’s nipples. The sudden wet heat made Seonghwa arch with a sharp gasp, his fingers tangling in Hongjoong’s hair.
“Joong—ah, fuck—”
Hongjoong sucked harder, his tongue flicking over the hardened bud before biting down just enough to make Seonghwa’s hips jerk. He groaned against his chest, wet, messy sounds filling the room as he switched to the other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention until Seonghwa was panting, tugging desperately at his hair.
“You taste so good,” Hongjoong mumbled against his skin, trailing hot kisses lower, across the planes of his abs, down toward the waistband of his shorts. Each press of his lips was accompanied by whispered apologies and promises, his breath hot against Seonghwa’s skin.
“I’ll make it up to you. Every second I wasted, every time I made you doubt—I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
Seonghwa’s head fell back, eyes fluttering shut. He was dizzy, his mind reeling from everything—the confession, the kisses, the feel of Hongjoong’s hands and mouth finally on him after all these years.
Then Hongjoong tugged his shorts down, dragging the fabric past his thighs until Seonghwa lay bare beneath him. Seonghwa’s cock slapped against his stomach, already hard and leaking.
“God…” Hongjoong’s voice cracked, eyes fixed on him like he was something sacred. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Seonghwa’s hip, then lower, teasing the inside of his thigh. “You’re perfect, Hwa. So fucking perfect.”
Seonghwa groaned, hips twitching, need coiling tight in his gut. “Stop teasing,” he rasped.
But Hongjoong only smirked, settling between his thighs, lips brushing over the flushed head of his cock. “I’ve waited years for this. Let me take my time.”
And then he swallowed him whole.
Seonghwa choked on a gasp, his back arching off the bed as Hongjoong’s mouth closed tight around him. The wet heat was overwhelming, tongue dragging along the underside as he bobbed his head, taking him deeper with each pass.
“Fuck—Joong—oh my god—”
Hongjoong moaned around him, the vibrations making Seonghwa’s thighs tremble. His hands clutched at the sheets, then found their way to Hongjoong’s hair, tugging helplessly as his cock slid in and out of that perfect mouth.
“Shit, you look so good like this,” Hongjoong groaned when he pulled back briefly, saliva glistening on his chin. He licked the head, slow and filthy, before sinking down again. “Always wanted to taste you.”
Seonghwa’s breath came in broken gasps, his body trembling. “I’m—I’m gonna—”
Hongjoong swallowed him deeper, throat tightening around him, moaning like he wanted it. That was all it took.
Seonghwa came with a strangled whimper, spilling hot down Hongjoong’s throat. His body jerked, hips stuttering, mouth falling open in a silent cry.
Hongjoong swallowed it all, licking him clean, groaning as though he couldn’t get enough. When he finally pulled back, his lips were red, swollen, slick with spit. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glazed with lust.
“Fuck…” Seonghwa panted, chest heaving. “You’re insane.”
Hongjoong crawled up his body, kissing him hard, letting Seonghwa taste himself on his tongue. “I told you, baby,” he whispered against his lips, voice low and filthy. “I’ll worship you tonight. Every inch of you belongs to me.”
Their mouths collided again, harder this time, desperate and hungry. Every kiss was a release of years of longing, every touch a silent confession. Hongjoong’s lips moved urgently against Seonghwa’s, sucking and nibbling along his jaw and neck.
Seonghwa moaned into him, hands clutching Hongjoong’s shoulders. “Joong… fuck…”
Hongjoong eased him back onto the bed, body pressing against him, hands roaming possessively. “You’re mine, Hwa. Always have been,” he whispered, voice low and rough. “I’ve wanted this… I’ve wanted you.”
Seonghwa shivered at the intensity, every nerve alive under Hongjoong’s touch. “Then… then stop teasing me…”
Hongjoong smirked darkly, letting his hands drift down to Seonghwa’s hips, brushing over the soft, taut muscles of his ass. “I’ve waited years to worship you like this,” he murmured. “Every inch of you… mine tonight.”
He pressed open-mouthed kisses along Seonghwa’s shoulders, down his sides, lingering over the curve of his hips. Fingers traced the warm, tight ring of his entrance, teasing him just enough to make him gasp and arch against him.
“You feel so good, Hwa,” Hongjoong murmured, voice low, rough. “So tight… so perfect. Always mine…”
Seonghwa’s chest heaved, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “Joong… please…”
Hongjoong chuckled against his skin, dragging his mouth lower, lips brushing across the small of his back, teasing him mercilessly. “I’m not done yet,” he whispered. “Gonna take my time, worship every inch… make you mine completely.”
Seonghwa groaned, hands fisting the sheets. “I’m yours… Joong… I’ve always been yours…”
Hongjoong kissed the back of his thighs, brushing just shy of entry, letting Seonghwa squirm. “So good for me… always… now I get to take all of you,” he murmured, teasing and praising, letting his voice grow filthy with need.
He eased one finger inside him first, careful and deliberate, letting Seonghwa adjust to the warm, tight stretch. Every movement made him moan against Hongjoong’s mouth, hands clutching his shoulders.
“You feel so incredible, Hwa. Always have.” Hongjoong whispered, curling his fingers, testing the tightness, dragging out every reaction from Seonghwa. “So perfect for me. Mine.” Seonghwa’s breath hitched, body trembling.
Finally, he pulled back slightly, lips brushing Seonghwa’s in a rough, lingering kiss. He lined himself up, tip pressing against the tight, warm ring. “Ready for me?” he asked, teasing slightly, thumb brushing over his hip.
Seonghwa nodded, body trembling. “Yes… please…”
Slowly, agonizingly, Hongjoong pushed in, inch by inch. Seonghwa hissed at the fullness, chest arching instinctively, hands gripping Hongjoong’s shoulders. Hongjoong stayed still for a moment, letting him adjust, then began to move—first slow, savoring the tight, warm embrace.
“You’re mine, baby,” he growled, voice low and filthy. “So tight… so perfect… always mine.”
Seonghwa moaned loudly, hips instinctively moving with him. “Joong… harder…”
Obediently, Hongjoong began thrusting deeper, each motion deliberate, rolling his hips to make sure every inch of him was worshipped. His hands roamed over Seonghwa’s body—gripping ass, chest, shoulders—never leaving him untouched.
“You’ve been perfect for me all these years,” Hongjoong whispered, voice rough. “I’ve wanted this… wanted you like this… for so long.”
Seonghwa’s cries filled the room, echoing with the heat of years of longing and restraint. The pace quickened, thrusts becoming harder, hips slamming together. Hongjoong’s filthy praise mingled with Seonghwa’s moans.
“Mine… all mine… so tight for me… so fucking perfect…” Hongjoong growled. “Say it, baby… say you’re mine for me.”
“I’m yours… all yours… forever…” Seonghwa gasped, voice breaking, body shuddering.
The bed creaked under them, sweat glistening on their bodies. Seonghwa’s hips jerked involuntarily with every thrust, muscles clenching around him, and Hongjoong groaned, losing himself to the feeling.
Finally, Seonghwa’s release hit, hips spasming around him, letting out a strangled whimper. Hongjoong rode it through, gritting his teeth, and with a guttural moan, he followed, spilling deep inside Seonghwa.
They collapsed together, chests heaving, foreheads pressed, hearts pounding. Hongjoong kissed along Seonghwa’s temple, murmuring soft apologies and promises.
“I’ll never hide again,” he whispered. “Never. You’re mine… forever.”
Seonghwa clutched him close, feeling the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart grounding him. “Finally… finally, it’s us,” he breathed, letting himself melt into Hongjoong’s embrace. Hours had passed, but neither of them had truly slept. They lay tangled in the sheets, chest to chest, hearts still racing. Hongjoong’s lips traced lazy, teasing kisses along Seonghwa’s collarbone, shoulder, jaw. Each brush of his mouth made Seonghwa shiver.
Hongjoong’s lips never left Seonghwa’s, pressing, biting, teasing, while his hands roamed possessively over his body. “You’re driving me insane,” he whispered, voice low and rough, teeth grazing Seonghwa’s jaw.
Seonghwa arched against him, breath hitching. “Joong… please… don’t stop…”
Hongjoong rolled lower, pressing against Seonghwa’s hip. Fingers traced the warm, tight ring of his entrance, teasing him slowly, stretching him just enough to make him whimper and grip the sheets. “So ready for me,” he murmured. “So tight… always perfect…”
Seonghwa’s voice cracked with need. “Joong… I want you…”
With a deep, guttural groan, Hongjoong positioned himself, tip pressing against Seonghwa’s entrance. Slowly, agonizingly, he eased inside, inch by inch, feeling the warmth and tightness coil around him. Seonghwa hissed, hips arching instinctively, hands clutching his shoulders.
“God… you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” Hongjoong groaned, thrusting slowly at first, savoring the tight warmth around him. “How many times I’ve jerked myself thinking about this… thinking about how you’d feel under me… how your face would look when I hit it just right… hell, even just imagining your lips…”
Seonghwa gasped, hips trembling. “Joong… I… I did the same,” he admitted, voice ragged. “I… I thought about you like that… so many times…”
Hongjoong’s grip on his hips tightened, rolling into him harder, every thrust deliberate. “All of you… mine… I’ve dreamed of this… you like this… so perfect… so fucking mine…”
Seonghwa moaned loudly, body shivering. “Joong… harder… I need you…”
Hongjoong didn’t hesitate. He went harder, pounding into Seonghwa with relentless, deliberate thrusts, each one stretching him, hitting all the right spots, making them both gasp and groan.
Hongjoong leaned down, biting the side of Seonghwa’s neck as he drove into him, one hand gripping his hip, the other kneading his ass. “So good… taking me so well… such a perfect baby for me…” he growled, voice low and filthy, savoring every reaction he elicited from Seonghwa.
Seonghwa’s cries filled the room, mingling with Hongjoong’s moans. Each thrust was long, deep, deliberate, as though making up for all the years of longing, teasing, and denial.
The tension coiled tighter and tighter, muscles trembling, breath coming in ragged gasps. Seonghwa came first, body spasming around Hongjoong, letting out a strangled whimper of release. Hongjoong groaned, thrusting through it, and finally spilled inside him with a guttural cry.
They collapsed together, sweaty, trembling, hearts pounding. Hongjoong pressed soft, lingering kisses along Seonghwa’s shoulders and neck, whispering apologies and promises.
They stayed tangled in each other’s arms, whispering, kissing, and letting the aftershocks of passion calm them. No more pretending. No more hiding. Just them, together, at last.
Mr. Bridgerton and the Baker
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: Covered in flour. It is how she usually spent her days, working hard at her family's bakery. She just hadn't expected to have met him in such a state.
Word Count: 11.8k
Warnings: pining, angst, fluff, a small assault (reader gets hit, not by Benedict!), mention of pregnancy (like, literally a line or two),
A/N: Did I write an entire fic barely based on that one scene in Camp Rock where Mitchie is covered in flour? Yes. Do I regret it? No.
With the melting of snow and the promise of new starts, the social season was nearly upon the ton, nearly upon all the potential suitors and debutantes—all waiting with bated breath to secure a match this year. Of course, those in waiting were of high status, usually tied to the aristocracy or drowning in wealth beyond compare.
The others? The ones not blessed with endless funds or pure luck of royal lineage had the privilege, nay, honor to serve those who would be so fortunate. For the many, it included servicing the estates—butlers, lady’s maids, governesses, home chefs and the like. For the patrons on Tilbury Street, it included the less sought after roles, polishers, cobblers, modistes and bakeries. One bakery in particular was the prime choice for the aristocracy, a diamond in the rough as some may say.
—
“I just simply don’t understand why we cannot have our chefs prepare the pastries for the ball,” Eloise Bridgerton nearly groaned, her arm hooked onto her mother’s. They had been walking up and down Tilbury Street for the better part of twenty minutes, simply enjoying the fresh spring weather. “I’ve never known them to make horrid dishes.”
“It’s the first Bridgerton Ball of the season, Eloise,” the dowager viscountess murmured politely. “Along with it being the first Kate has had the pleasure of hosting, putting an order in here is a fresh foot forward, one that’ll impress our guests.”
Eloise barked back a laugh. “If it is so important, why is Kate not here to make the order herself?”
“That, dear sister, is an excellent point.” Following close behind the two Bridgerton ladies was a rather tall shadow, equally as dashing and nearly as clever—Benedict—the second eldest son of the Bridgerton brood. “Surely Anthony could spare his wife for one afternoon, I can’t imagine it being so difficult to pry them from their bedroom—”
Another universe-quaking issue of immense importance from yours truly; Boromir is not a predator, he does not have a small pack of carnivores, he does not pursue, he does not hunt, he is not an ambusher, he is not a 'one burst of massive energy and then sleep all day' guy his daemon is not a wolf his imagery is not fangs or claws okay that's not Boromir, Boromir's a walk all week guy, he's a stand and defend guy, he's an 'I'm big enough, lets see how deep those teeth go before I get you' guy he's an 'I'm willing to risk it' guy he's a herd of hundreds guy he's an 'I'll forge a path' guy he's an 'I'll die but I'm taking 20 of you with me' guy he's a prey animal he's beast of burden !!! HE LITERALLY HAS A HORN.
hold on I just need a moment to just to take a moment and t.o jus t
what if we were a demon boy band and we all ran like goofy guys? haha jk...unless? 🤔
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ₊˚⊹ ৻ꪆ
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩: joel’s been acting different and you want to know why.
𝐟𝐭. jackson!joel miller x gn!reader
𝐰𝐜. 2k
𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: one shot || sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, joel’s vulnerable, joel has bad dreams, he’s a lil sappy, established relationship, age-gap, joel is in his 50(s), reader is 21(+)
𝐚/𝐧: i might flush this out but instead in joel’s pov maybe,,,
Joel has picked up an interesting habit recently.
You don’t know why it started but every night, for more than a month, Joel has gone to bed and slept with his head on your chest. You think at first, maybe it’s just more comfortable for him to sleep like that, but now you really aren’t sure.
oh okay cool cool cool cool totally not screaming and squealing after reading this!!! definitely not!!!
Jinu saw Rumi's patterns and the first thing he thought to do was protect her. Protect her from the people that were supposed to be her /friends/ - her fellow hunters.
Because he knows hunters do one thing above all others - they kill demons.
The fact that they sing pretty little ditties about it is secondary to that fact.
Gwi-Ma captured his soul through the shame of his inability to provide for, to /protect/ - especially at the end of his life, his family.
And he's right. After 400 years Jinu is still the same old Jinu.
Reaching out to protect others without thinking about what it will cost him, personally.
miss u sm jinu
What if?
Jinu's salvation
