mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi mingi
summary: cathedrals and castles, sunrises and sunsets; none of which compare to the quiet, fond mornings with jeong yunho, a welcome repose from your busy lives.
a/n: I PROMISE IM NOT DEAD GUYS .. im sorry uni got the best of me but im actually on time with all my readings and assignments hence the inactiveness :”) but im having loads of fun amongst the chaos; just enough time to write here and there but not enough to finish and clean up longer fics, soooo sorry everyone TT / slightly suggestive, non-sexual nudity!
word count: 1k
Everyone says Yunho’s just like the sun.
They aren’t wrong, but you think he’s more like the dawn of it all; the birth of day. The slow creep of the orange-yellow over the horizon, each leaf, each feather or strand of fur catching the light, morning rays.
It’s gentle, he’s gentle like the fingertips trailing up your thighs, making a loop and travelling up your hip bone. Every dip and crevice catching onto his beams of light.
“Tired, hm?” Yunho mumbles to nobody in particular, body already accustomed to getting up at weird timings for his schedule even on off days. Today isn’t any different, but at least instead of his lingering stares on you before he leaves for practice, he could do it from his side of the bed.
Slowly, without any urgency, facing each other like a puzzle. Like honey in his bones, his love for you settles in heavy and Yunho never wants to leave your side. He cracks a little smile at how you scoot closer to his warmth.
You hum in response, half in your dream state and half awake, twitching when he continues his finger up your chest — no hindrance, not restricted by clothing — and down your bent arm. He takes a second longer admiring how much larger his wrists, hands are than yours, before slotting his fingers in between.
A squeeze. Nothing. A soft peck to one of your fingers. Another faint hum. Yunho giggles.
“Oh…” You sound out with affirmation, eyes cracking open groggily just as you can hear his hypnotising laugh. You can’t help but return a small smile.
“Morning, baby.”
The wind across your room matches the way your breath catches. It’s the rasp, the pretty face, Yunho.
God, brown hair goes so well with the orange-yellow of his rays.
“Only morning? I don’t get a ‘good’?” You playfully ask with a pout, blinking sleepily, but you’re so fatigued you’re slipping in and out of consciousness — still tired from the night before — switching between keeping your eyes closed and lazily opening them.
Like a tease, Yunho shakes his head, shrugs and purses his lips jokingly. His hand betrays him; it immediately brings your twined hands to his mouth again.
“Oh, so you hate me,” you state sarcastically, ignoring the uneven breaths upon your skin and its accompanying kisses. Without any strength, you attempt to wrench your hand out of his grasp for his ‘unbecoming’ answer, laughing when he only tightens his hold around you.
A small scream escapes you when he tugs you so hard you end up on him, warmth immediately lighting up your cheeks at your naked chests being pressed together. It’s quietly sensual and you giggle when you feel him semi-harden under you.
“Seriously?”
“Whaat? Can’t I find my lover hot and undeniably sexy?” Yunho wiggles his eyebrows dramatically, trapping you within his hold both with his arms and eyes. They’re so deep set on his face you might just fall and lose your breath and never come back up.
The slight hazel gleam, the soft way they look at you, the slight crescent as he smiles. Your tongue moves before your brain does — “holy crap, you’re just so insanely pretty.” You’re both surprised at the words that come out, eliciting an embarrassed uh… before you’re swearing into his neck.
“Fuck… got caught lacking.” You groan, body jostling around from his uncontrollable laughter that only worsens in intensity. His dawn is lightening, orange turns to yellow, his grin sends you succumbing to laughter.
“Aw, baby," he coos in between smiles upon feeling your body heat up in sheepishness, “nothing to be shy about.”
With a firm but gentle grasp, he squeezes your nape and prompts you to leave your hiding spot. But he doesn’t waste any time to reassure you with a needy kiss on your pout — plump lips moving against yours like choreography — drawing back reluctantly with a small moan.
His hands put you in a trance, sending goosebumps in its wake. “See? Nothing to be embarrassed ’bout, sweetheart. I am as enamoured with you as you are with me.”
That puts more heat on your cheeks than you’d like to admit, but you like the push and pull with Yunho. The drawled out words, the yielding, the teasing.
“Now you’re just making up for your lack of a good morning by waxing poetry.”
“Oh!” Your boyfriend immediately clutches his heart (or tries to, it just falls into a fist), back of his hand glued to his forehead in theatrics. Eyes closed, brows pulled. “You caught me.”
Rolling your eyes affectionately, all you can do is a light shove to his chest before he cracks open an eye experimentally to discover your gaze. Burning, intense and brighter than his rays of first light.
The staring contest never really begins nor stops; Yunho searches your eyes, that sometimes crinkles with a grin, sometimes in a wink, just to get him to lose. But all it does is make his heart softer and fonder and dizzier with love. Without rest, he leans in again. Unable to resist your touch, but careful to handle you with all the ardour in the world.
His lips meet yours in another kiss, slower this time. And you think, you know, none of the wonders you’ve seen on tour with Yunho, nor the many sunrises you’ve caught can compare to —
Your eyes flutter open at the same time. “I can’t believe you’re mine.” Your lover gasps out with a choked voice; he dives straight back for more.
— this. Everything. From Yunho’s fingers softly playing with your hair, to the unhurried, passionate attention he gives your lips, to the whispered words that’s careful not to break the horizon. Daybreak knows no bounds along your skin, just as his kisses trail all over your face and heat blooms like flowers where his rays touch.
Too wrapped up in Jeong Yunho’s light, it’d be a wonder to look at you through his eyes and see all the beauty of the breath of honey and gold embedded into every part of you. Almost made permanent.
Yunho prays the box hiding on the highest shelf of the bookcase does the job well, and after, he hopes it’ll catch all the glint and shine of the dawn, just as your eyes are right now.
summary: cathedrals and castles, sunrises and sunsets; none of which compare to the quiet, fond mornings with jeong yunho, a welcome repose from your busy lives.
a/n: I PROMISE IM NOT DEAD GUYS .. im sorry uni got the best of me but im actually on time with all my readings and assignments hence the inactiveness :”) but im having loads of fun amongst the chaos; just enough time to write here and there but not enough to finish and clean up longer fics, soooo sorry everyone TT / slightly suggestive, non-sexual nudity!
word count: 1k
Everyone says Yunho’s just like the sun.
They weren’t wrong, but you think he’s more like the dawn of it all; the birth of day. The slow creep of the orange-yellow over the horizon, each leaf, each feather or strand of fur catching the light, morning rays.
It’s gentle, he’s gentle like the fingertips trailing up your thighs, making a loop and travelling up your hip bone. Every dip and crevice catching onto his beams of light.
“Tired, hm?” Yunho mumbles to nobody in particular, body already accustomed to getting up at weird timings for his schedule even on off days. Today isn’t any different, but at least instead of his lingering stares on you before he leaves for practice, he could do it from his side of the bed.
Slowly, without any urgency, facing each other like a puzzle. Like honey in his bones, his love for you settles in heavy and Yunho never wants to leave your side. He cracks a little smile at how you scoot closer to his warmth.
You hum in response, half in your dream state and half awake, twitching when he continues his finger up your chest — no hindrance, not restricted by clothing — and down your bent arm. He takes a second longer admiring how much larger his wrists, hands are than yours, before slotting his fingers in between.
A squeeze. Nothing. A soft peck to one of your fingers. Another faint hum. Yunho giggles.
“Oh…” You sound out with affirmation, eyes cracking open groggily just as you can hear his hypnotising laugh. You can’t help but return a small smile.
“Morning, baby.”
The wind across your room matches the way your breath catches. It’s the rasp, the pretty face, Yunho.
God, brown hair goes so well with the orange-yellow of his rays.
“Only morning? I don’t get a ‘good’?” You playfully ask with a pout, blinking sleepily, but you’re so fatigued you’re slipping in and out of consciousness — still tired from the night before — switching between keeping your eyes closed and lazily opening them.
Like a tease, Yunho shakes his head, shrugs and purses his lips jokingly. His hand betrays him; it immediately brings your twined hands to his mouth again.
“Oh, so you hate me,” you state sarcastically, ignoring the uneven breaths upon your skin and its accompanying kisses. Without any strength, you attempt to wrench your hand out of his grasp for his ‘unbecoming’ answer, laughing when he only tightens his hold around you.
A small scream escapes you when he tugs you so hard you end up on him, warmth immediately lighting up your cheeks at your naked chests being pressed together. It’s quietly sensual and you giggle when you feel him semi-harden under you.
“Seriously?”
“Whaat? Can’t I find my lover hot and undeniably sexy?” Yunho wiggles his eyebrows dramatically, trapping you within his hold both with his arms and eyes. They’re so deep set on his face you might just fall and lose your breath and never come back up.
The slight hazel gleam, the soft way they look at you, the slight crescent as he smiles. Your tongue moves before your brain does — “holy crap, you’re just so insanely pretty.” You’re both surprised at the words that come out, eliciting an embarrassed uh… before you’re swearing into his neck.
“Fuck… got caught lacking.” You groan, body jostling around from his uncontrollable laughter that only worsens in intensity. His dawn is lightening, orange turns to yellow, his grin sends you succumbing to laughter.
“Aw, baby," he coos in between smiles upon feeling your body heat up in sheepishness, “nothing to be shy about.”
With a firm but gentle grasp, he squeezes your nape and prompts you to leave your hiding spot. But he doesn’t waste any time to reassure you with a needy kiss on your pout — plump lips moving against yours like choreography — drawing back reluctantly with a small moan.
His hands put you in a trance, sending goosebumps in its wake. “See? Nothing to be embarrassed ’bout, sweetheart. I am as enamoured with you as you are with me.”
That puts more heat on your cheeks than you’d like to admit, but you like the push and pull with Yunho. The drawled out words, the yielding, the teasing.
“Now you’re just making up for your lack of a good morning by waxing poetry.”
“Oh!” Your boyfriend immediately clutches his heart (or tries to, it just falls into a fist), back of his hand glued to his forehead in theatrics. Eyes closed, brows pulled. “You caught me.”
Rolling your eyes affectionately, all you can do is a light shove to his chest before he cracks open an eye experimentally to discover your gaze. Burning, intense and brighter than his rays of first light.
The staring contest never really begins nor stops; Yunho searches your eyes, that sometimes crinkles with a grin, sometimes in a wink, just to get him to lose. But all it does is make his heart softer and fonder and dizzier with love. Without rest, he leans in again. Unable to resist your touch, but careful to handle you with all the ardour in the world.
His lips meet yours in another kiss, slower this time. And you think, you know, none of the wonders you’ve seen on tour with Yunho, nor the many sunrises you’ve caught can compare to —
Your eyes flutter open at the same time. “I can’t believe you’re mine.” Your lover gasps out with a choked voice; he dives straight back for more.
— this. Everything. From Yunho’s fingers softly playing with your hair, to the unhurried, passionate attention he gives your lips, to the whispered words that’s careful not to break the horizon. Daybreak knows no bounds along your skin, just as his kisses trail all over your face and heat blooms like flowers where his rays touch.
Too wrapped up in Jeong Yunho’s light, it’d be a wonder to look at you through his eyes and see all the beauty of the breath of honey and gold embedded into every part of you. Almost made permanent.
Yunho prays the box hiding on the highest shelf of the bookcase does the job well, and after, he hopes it’ll catch all the glint and shine of the dawn, just as your eyes are right now.
summary: hongjoong’s cooped up for too long in his studio that he’s lost inspiration and drive; you have just the thing to help him.
a/n: IM ALIVE!!!! im just extra busy these few days . anyway ive been getting brain worms about hongjoong a lot lately, may or may have been fuelled by this edit with dilf!joong in my head
word count: 1.4k
warnings: MINORS DNI. soft dom!hongjoong, sub!reader, pet names (baby, pretty girl, angel), praise, slight daddy kink, dumbification, slight subspace, oral (m! receiving) / blowjob, handjob, spit is involved, semi-public sex (recording studio), photos and filming with consent, cumshot (on face), i have daddy issues and i need hongjoong biblically
Hongjoong was past being productive.
But what he was preoccupied with seemed way better than brainstorming ideas for the group’s next title track, at least with how much he’s been locking himself up in the studio with little to no inspiration.
He could use a little break, you thought. He deserves this, you think. And it’s true when you first swipe your tongue along the underside of Hongjoong’s dick — his muscles visibly relax, and he sinks into his chair — that you take it as motivation to tease him.
Swirling your tongue around his tip, you take it slow. Kitten lick after kitten lick until he has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Wordlessly, he adjusts his hips gently. “Mmf— big.” You mumble around his fat cock, garnering a lewd, long moan from Hongjoong as he watches you slobber over him with the eagerness of someone who’s been meeting nothing but empty sheets the past few days. Eyes closed, gargling noises filled your ears, his moans rumbled through his body.
“Takin’ me so well,” Hongjoong all but whispers, threading his fingers through your hair tenderly before settling near your nape, lifting his lips a bit not to get more of your mouth but to remove the cushion from underneath him. “Here, baby.”
You come off with a pop, eyes fluttering open so stunningly it makes his dick twitch. The hand in your hair untangles itself to tilt your face up — dazed, cockdrunk, drooling — before prying your jaw open with two fingers. They’re warm against your tongue, so lost in pleasure that you don’t wait to suck on his fingers too.
“Aht, aht, no. Take a breather, angel.”
You’re so floaty you don’t register what he wants you to do, so you shake your head with a pout. “Don’t wanna.”
Hongjoong simply breathes through his nose, nodding to the cushion he’s dumped to the floor and your mind clears up a little and your body readjusts to recognise the pain blooming in your knees.
There’s a skip in your heart, seeing how attentive your boyfriend could be even in the midst of his pleasure that you lace your fingers with his, using your other hand to guide the cushion to your knees.
“Thanks, Joong.” You smile, squeezing his hand in yours and he reciprocates with an equally lovesick one. “Now…”
With extra comfort for your knees and the smell of his body wash infiltrating your senses, your desperation spills over when you latch onto him again, free hand grasping at his thighs and digging.
It’s all the leverage you need as you start to bob your head, flattening your tongue while you look up at him. He’s not super big, but he’s thick, stretching your mouth as his tip threatens to hit the back of your mouth. Saliva escapes either way, dripping out the sides of your mouth as you sputter and whine around him.
“Love your cock,” You mumble incessantly into skin, coming up ever so often to give attention to his tip — suckling, tonguing at the slit, swirling all over the angry red head that he’s grunting under his breath. The soft track playing on in the background mixes with your pretty sounds, and provides a sweet harmony beside his soft, melodic breaths, willing himself not to cum so quickly.
You were fucking intoxicated on him and he was enamoured with you. “Wanna suck you dry, until you’re cumming all over my face, Daddy.”
Hongjoong knows what the name does to him. You both don’t enforce it often in the bedroom, but ever since you’ve gasped out the name out of the blue — with warm cheeks and an embarrassed mewl that has your boyfriend cooing — he doesn’t mind indulging you any time you call out to him.
“Needy baby, hm?” He’s slurring his words, eyes locked onto the way you pull him closer, setting a comfortable pace with your mouth going up and down. Your hand leaves his body, stroking the parts of him you can’t reach, filling the room with slick noises and a deep, guttural groan from the other.
You nod with his dick still in you, speech muffled. “Yeah, w—wanna help you.”
“Aw,” Hongjoong leans forward, causing his shaft to slip out of your mouth with strings of saliva connecting you to him. The sight sends him reeling — his pretty darling with hooded lids and parted lips, and you’re moaning softly at the way his heavy cock rests on your face. “My dirty girl.”
There’s a drawl to his voice as he says it, breaking your interlocked hands to blindly reach for his phone before resting back in the chair.
Before swiping left for the camera, Hongjoong doesn’t hesitate to ask a ‘this okay?’ before you give him a verbal response (he emphasises that normally, anyway, and it drives you crazy).
The framing of you in his phone is even more obscene, spreading his hand over his cock to cover it and the bottom half of your face. A small whine escapes from your throat at the clicks of the camera, shy but still loving the attention he gives you, knowing those pictures are the sole motivation for him on tour.
“Open up, baby.” Pure lust, dripping from his words as he twitches at your pliancy, tongue lolling out while you receive his thumb into your warm mouth and breathe hard along his shaft at the filthiness of it all. “Good girl.”
With the sound of the red button being clicked, Hongjoong releases his hand on your face to grab onto his dick, slapping it briefly before nudging the tip past your lips. “Go on, darling girl.”
You can’t help but let out wanton moans, putting pressure around his cockhead. “Make Daddy feel good.”
You don’t wait a second longer, surrounding his cock with your warmth and finding a rhythm to bob your head at while spit bubbles past your lips, coating his length with a shiny sheen. The wetness only contributes to the addicting sensations, bringing the lewd sounds to an all time high with the way you slurp and suck him clean.
“Shit, fucking hell—” Hongjoong murmurs as he struggles to keep the phone steady, unable to keep away from you by the way he bundles a bit of hair in his hand, nails prodding into your scalp.
But you can’t care about the sting of your hair being pulled, nor the leg of the chair obstructing your way, when there’s a plethora of praises and whimpers from your lover from above you. “You’re a wonder, baby.”
That prompts you to release him, grinning from ear to ear before letting more spit spill past your lips, switching instead to giving all your attention to his tip while you pump the rest of him. “Oh—Oh my God.”
Hongjoong shifts in his seat, video turning shaky with how warm your hands felt. Not to mention, your eyes, just begging him for relief, release. You alternate between sucking and swirling your tongue, mouth prepared for his load.
“Gonna—” His head tilts back, shivers travelling throughout his body that make him light-headed. But he can’t take his eyes off of you long enough, relaxing his scrunched up expression to meet your intense gaze. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”
“Give it to me.” It’s garbled, but it comes from your gut, voice hoarse and mind focused on one thing only. Your hands increase their pressure while you stick out your tongue. Hongjoong’s zoned in onto your little whines on his screen, thighs flexing until you’re squeezing the base of his cock and he’s thrusting his hips in ecstasy.
The first spurt of his cum takes you by surprise, spilling both in your mouth and over your features — he’s no videographer, but the way the studio light hits your skin, illuminating the spark in your eyes and the shine of your sweat is criminally breathtaking.
Though, your surprise is overridden immediately by how much he cums, tip leaking white and staining your cheeks, tongue.
“See what you do to me?” Hongjoong laughs breathlessly, using the hand in your hair to crane your head upwards, gently. “Makin’ me cum until I lose my fucking mind.”
He’s quick to spread his load all over your face, admiring your dazed look and feeling his heart and dick jump again when you lean on his thigh, stroking him lazily with a bite to your lip.
“The only one to get me worked up and inspired like this, pretty girl.” Your cheeks warm at his tender but firm tone. “You.”
With a lean into his touch, you lick your lips clean with a smile. “Happy to help, Daddy.”
summary: cathedrals and castles, sunrises and sunsets; none of which compare to the quiet, fond mornings with jeong yunho, a welcome repose from your busy lives.
a/n: I PROMISE IM NOT DEAD GUYS .. im sorry uni got the best of me but im actually on time with all my readings and assignments hence the inactiveness :”) but im having loads of fun amongst the chaos; just enough time to write here and there but not enough to finish and clean up longer fics, soooo sorry everyone TT / slightly suggestive, non-sexual nudity!
word count: 1k
Everyone says Yunho’s just like the sun.
They aren’t wrong, but you think he’s more like the dawn of it all; the birth of day. The slow creep of the orange-yellow over the horizon, each leaf, each feather or strand of fur catching the light, morning rays.
It’s gentle, he’s gentle like the fingertips trailing up your thighs, making a loop and travelling up your hip bone. Every dip and crevice catching onto his beams of light.
“Tired, hm?” Yunho mumbles to nobody in particular, body already accustomed to getting up at weird timings for his schedule even on off days. Today isn’t any different, but at least instead of his lingering stares on you before he leaves for practice, he could do it from his side of the bed.
Slowly, without any urgency, facing each other like a puzzle. Like honey in his bones, his love for you settles in heavy and Yunho never wants to leave your side. He cracks a little smile at how you scoot closer to his warmth.
You hum in response, half in your dream state and half awake, twitching when he continues his finger up your chest — no hindrance, not restricted by clothing — and down your bent arm. He takes a second longer admiring how much larger his wrists, hands are than yours, before slotting his fingers in between.
A squeeze. Nothing. A soft peck to one of your fingers. Another faint hum. Yunho giggles.
“Oh…” You sound out with affirmation, eyes cracking open groggily just as you can hear his hypnotising laugh. You can’t help but return a small smile.
“Morning, baby.”
The wind across your room matches the way your breath catches. It’s the rasp, the pretty face, Yunho.
God, brown hair goes so well with the orange-yellow of his rays.
“Only morning? I don’t get a ‘good’?” You playfully ask with a pout, blinking sleepily, but you’re so fatigued you’re slipping in and out of consciousness — still tired from the night before — switching between keeping your eyes closed and lazily opening them.
Like a tease, Yunho shakes his head, shrugs and purses his lips jokingly. His hand betrays him; it immediately brings your twined hands to his mouth again.
“Oh, so you hate me,” you state sarcastically, ignoring the uneven breaths upon your skin and its accompanying kisses. Without any strength, you attempt to wrench your hand out of his grasp for his ‘unbecoming’ answer, laughing when he only tightens his hold around you.
A small scream escapes you when he tugs you so hard you end up on him, warmth immediately lighting up your cheeks at your naked chests being pressed together. It’s quietly sensual and you giggle when you feel him semi-harden under you.
“Seriously?”
“Whaat? Can’t I find my lover hot and undeniably sexy?” Yunho wiggles his eyebrows dramatically, trapping you within his hold both with his arms and eyes. They’re so deep set on his face you might just fall and lose your breath and never come back up.
The slight hazel gleam, the soft way they look at you, the slight crescent as he smiles. Your tongue moves before your brain does — “holy crap, you’re just so insanely pretty.” You’re both surprised at the words that come out, eliciting an embarrassed uh… before you’re swearing into his neck.
“Fuck… got caught lacking.” You groan, body jostling around from his uncontrollable laughter that only worsens in intensity. His dawn is lightening, orange turns to yellow, his grin sends you succumbing to laughter.
“Aw, baby," he coos in between smiles upon feeling your body heat up in sheepishness, “nothing to be shy about.”
With a firm but gentle grasp, he squeezes your nape and prompts you to leave your hiding spot. But he doesn’t waste any time to reassure you with a needy kiss on your pout — plump lips moving against yours like choreography — drawing back reluctantly with a small moan.
His hands put you in a trance, sending goosebumps in its wake. “See? Nothing to be embarrassed ’bout, sweetheart. I am as enamoured with you as you are with me.”
That puts more heat on your cheeks than you’d like to admit, but you like the push and pull with Yunho. The drawled out words, the yielding, the teasing.
“Now you’re just making up for your lack of a good morning by waxing poetry.”
“Oh!” Your boyfriend immediately clutches his heart (or tries to, it just falls into a fist), back of his hand glued to his forehead in theatrics. Eyes closed, brows pulled. “You caught me.”
Rolling your eyes affectionately, all you can do is a light shove to his chest before he cracks open an eye experimentally to discover your gaze. Burning, intense and brighter than his rays of first light.
The staring contest never really begins nor stops; Yunho searches your eyes, that sometimes crinkles with a grin, sometimes in a wink, just to get him to lose. But all it does is make his heart softer and fonder and dizzier with love. Without rest, he leans in again. Unable to resist your touch, but careful to handle you with all the ardour in the world.
His lips meet yours in another kiss, slower this time. And you think, you know, none of the wonders you’ve seen on tour with Yunho, nor the many sunrises you’ve caught can compare to —
Your eyes flutter open at the same time. “I can’t believe you’re mine.” Your lover gasps out with a choked voice; he dives straight back for more.
— this. Everything. From Yunho’s fingers softly playing with your hair, to the unhurried, passionate attention he gives your lips, to the whispered words that’s careful not to break the horizon. Daybreak knows no bounds along your skin, just as his kisses trail all over your face and heat blooms like flowers where his rays touch.
Too wrapped up in Jeong Yunho’s light, it’d be a wonder to look at you through his eyes and see all the beauty of the breath of honey and gold embedded into every part of you. Almost made permanent.
Yunho prays the box hiding on the highest shelf of the bookcase does the job well, and after, he hopes it’ll catch all the glint and shine of the dawn, just as your eyes are right now.
OH MY GOD DIDN'T EXPECT TO GET A FOLLOW BACK BUT HELLO !!!! YOUR BLOG AESTHETIC IS SO how to put it LIKE AN EYE CANDY OMGOMG HELLO NEW ATINY MOOTIE (excuse me for a moment as i fangirl)
HIIII im janus!!!! yes, i read some of your things i loved them soooo much i had to follow back ❤️ THANK YOU!!! i love your theme too the red and black combo is always a win in my book 🙂↕️
sorry for the radio silence guys i was busying enjoying myself on holiday before school starts 😭😭😭😭😭😭
a bit of updates: i got the courses i wanted after bidding! and i got into korean lang too so i cant wait to start learning. i went to do my nails, went for a massage, sang karaoke, went hiking, ate LOTS of food, and took pics w/ mingi's photoism strip!!!!!! such a fun time with my friends
as for post updates i’ll try to get some short ones up and running since my first week of school is usually pretty chill. thank u for sticking around ❤️
summary: hongjoong’s cooped up for too long in his studio that he’s lost inspiration and drive; you have just the thing to help him.
a/n: IM ALIVE!!!! im just extra busy these few days . anyway ive been getting brain worms about hongjoong a lot lately, may or may have been fuelled by this edit with dilf!joong in my head
word count: 1.4k
warnings: MINORS DNI. soft dom!hongjoong, sub!reader, pet names (baby, pretty girl, angel), praise, slight daddy kink, dumbification, slight subspace, oral (m! receiving) / blowjob, handjob, spit is involved, semi-public sex (recording studio), photos and filming with consent, cumshot (on face), i have daddy issues and i need hongjoong biblically
Hongjoong was past being productive.
But what he was preoccupied with seemed way better than brainstorming ideas for the group’s next title track, at least with how much he’s been locking himself up in the studio with little to no inspiration.
He could use a little break, you thought. He deserves this, you think. And it’s true when you first swipe your tongue along the underside of Hongjoong’s dick — his muscles visibly relax, and he sinks into his chair — that you take it as motivation to tease him.
Swirling your tongue around his tip, you take it slow. Kitten lick after kitten lick until he has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Wordlessly, he adjusts his hips gently. “Mmf— big.” You mumble around his fat cock, garnering a lewd, long moan from Hongjoong as he watches you slobber over him with the eagerness of someone who’s been meeting nothing but empty sheets the past few days. Eyes closed, gargling noises filled your ears, his moans rumbled through his body.
“Takin’ me so well,” Hongjoong all but whispers, threading his fingers through your hair tenderly before settling near your nape, lifting his lips a bit not to get more of your mouth but to remove the cushion from underneath him. “Here, baby.”
You come off with a pop, eyes fluttering open so stunningly it makes his dick twitch. The hand in your hair untangles itself to tilt your face up — dazed, cockdrunk, drooling — before prying your jaw open with two fingers. They’re warm against your tongue, so lost in pleasure that you don’t wait to suck on his fingers too.
“Aht, aht, no. Take a breather, angel.”
You’re so floaty you don’t register what he wants you to do, so you shake your head with a pout. “Don’t wanna.”
Hongjoong simply breathes through his nose, nodding to the cushion he’s dumped to the floor and your mind clears up a little and your body readjusts to recognise the pain blooming in your knees.
There’s a skip in your heart, seeing how attentive your boyfriend could be even in the midst of his pleasure that you lace your fingers with his, using your other hand to guide the cushion to your knees.
“Thanks, Joong.” You smile, squeezing his hand in yours and he reciprocates with an equally lovesick one. “Now…”
With extra comfort for your knees and the smell of his body wash infiltrating your senses, your desperation spills over when you latch onto him again, free hand grasping at his thighs and digging.
It’s all the leverage you need as you start to bob your head, flattening your tongue while you look up at him. He’s not super big, but he’s thick, stretching your mouth as his tip threatens to hit the back of your mouth. Saliva escapes either way, dripping out the sides of your mouth as you sputter and whine around him.
“Love your cock,” You mumble incessantly into skin, coming up ever so often to give attention to his tip — suckling, tonguing at the slit, swirling all over the angry red head that he’s grunting under his breath. The soft track playing on in the background mixes with your pretty sounds, and provides a sweet harmony beside his soft, melodic breaths, willing himself not to cum so quickly.
You were fucking intoxicated on him and he was enamoured with you. “Wanna suck you dry, until you’re cumming all over my face, Daddy.”
Hongjoong knows what the name does to him. You both don’t enforce it often in the bedroom, but ever since you’ve gasped out the name out of the blue — with warm cheeks and an embarrassed mewl that has your boyfriend cooing — he doesn’t mind indulging you any time you call out to him.
“Needy baby, hm?” He’s slurring his words, eyes locked onto the way you pull him closer, setting a comfortable pace with your mouth going up and down. Your hand leaves his body, stroking the parts of him you can’t reach, filling the room with slick noises and a deep, guttural groan from the other.
You nod with his dick still in you, speech muffled. “Yeah, w—wanna help you.”
“Aw,” Hongjoong leans forward, causing his shaft to slip out of your mouth with strings of saliva connecting you to him. The sight sends him reeling — his pretty darling with hooded lids and parted lips, and you’re moaning softly at the way his heavy cock rests on your face. “My dirty girl.”
There’s a drawl to his voice as he says it, breaking your interlocked hands to blindly reach for his phone before resting back in the chair.
Before swiping left for the camera, Hongjoong doesn’t hesitate to ask a ‘this okay?’ before you give him a verbal response (he emphasises that normally, anyway, and it drives you crazy).
The framing of you in his phone is even more obscene, spreading his hand over his cock to cover it and the bottom half of your face. A small whine escapes from your throat at the clicks of the camera, shy but still loving the attention he gives you, knowing those pictures are the sole motivation for him on tour.
“Open up, baby.” Pure lust, dripping from his words as he twitches at your pliancy, tongue lolling out while you receive his thumb into your warm mouth and breathe hard along his shaft at the filthiness of it all. “Good girl.”
With the sound of the red button being clicked, Hongjoong releases his hand on your face to grab onto his dick, slapping it briefly before nudging the tip past your lips. “Go on, darling girl.”
You can’t help but let out wanton moans, putting pressure around his cockhead. “Make Daddy feel good.”
You don’t wait a second longer, surrounding his cock with your warmth and finding a rhythm to bob your head at while spit bubbles past your lips, coating his length with a shiny sheen. The wetness only contributes to the addicting sensations, bringing the lewd sounds to an all time high with the way you slurp and suck him clean.
“Shit, fucking hell—” Hongjoong murmurs as he struggles to keep the phone steady, unable to keep away from you by the way he bundles a bit of hair in his hand, nails prodding into your scalp.
But you can’t care about the sting of your hair being pulled, nor the leg of the chair obstructing your way, when there’s a plethora of praises and whimpers from your lover from above you. “You’re a wonder, baby.”
That prompts you to release him, grinning from ear to ear before letting more spit spill past your lips, switching instead to giving all your attention to his tip while you pump the rest of him. “Oh—Oh my God.”
Hongjoong shifts in his seat, video turning shaky with how warm your hands felt. Not to mention, your eyes, just begging him for relief, release. You alternate between sucking and swirling your tongue, mouth prepared for his load.
“Gonna—” His head tilts back, shivers travelling throughout his body that make him light-headed. But he can’t take his eyes off of you long enough, relaxing his scrunched up expression to meet your intense gaze. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”
“Give it to me.” It’s garbled, but it comes from your gut, voice hoarse and mind focused on one thing only. Your hands increase their pressure while you stick out your tongue. Hongjoong’s zoned in onto your little whines on his screen, thighs flexing until you’re squeezing the base of his cock and he’s thrusting his hips in ecstasy.
The first spurt of his cum takes you by surprise, spilling both in your mouth and over your features — he’s no videographer, but the way the studio light hits your skin, illuminating the spark in your eyes and the shine of your sweat is criminally breathtaking.
Though, your surprise is overridden immediately by how much he cums, tip leaking white and staining your cheeks, tongue.
“See what you do to me?” Hongjoong laughs breathlessly, using the hand in your hair to crane your head upwards, gently. “Makin’ me cum until I lose my fucking mind.”
He’s quick to spread his load all over your face, admiring your dazed look and feeling his heart and dick jump again when you lean on his thigh, stroking him lazily with a bite to your lip.
“The only one to get me worked up and inspired like this, pretty girl.” Your cheeks warm at his tender but firm tone. “You.”
With a lean into his touch, you lick your lips clean with a smile. “Happy to help, Daddy.”
summary: hongjoong’s cooped up for too long in his studio that he’s lost inspiration and drive; you have just the thing to help him.
a/n: IM ALIVE!!!! im just extra busy these few days . anyway ive been getting brain worms about hongjoong a lot lately, may or may have been fuelled by this edit with dilf!joong in my head
word count: 1.4k
warnings: MINORS DNI. soft dom!hongjoong, sub!reader, pet names (baby, pretty girl, angel), praise, slight daddy kink, dumbification, slight subspace, oral (m! receiving) / blowjob, handjob, spit is involved, semi-public sex (recording studio), photos and filming with consent, cumshot (on face), i have daddy issues and i need hongjoong biblically
Hongjoong was past being productive.
But what he was preoccupied with seemed way better than brainstorming ideas for the group’s next title track, at least with how much he’s been locking himself up in the studio with little to no inspiration.
He could use a little break, you thought. He deserves this, you think. And it’s true when you first swipe your tongue along the underside of Hongjoong’s dick — his muscles visibly relax, and he sinks into his chair — that you take it as motivation to tease him.
Swirling your tongue around his tip, you take it slow. Kitten lick after kitten lick until he has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Wordlessly, he adjusts his hips gently. “Mmf— big.” You mumble around his fat cock, garnering a lewd, long moan from Hongjoong as he watches you slobber over him with the eagerness of someone who’s been meeting nothing but empty sheets the past few days. Eyes closed, gargling noises filled your ears, his moans rumbled through his body.
“Takin’ me so well,” Hongjoong all but whispers, threading his fingers through your hair tenderly before settling near your nape, lifting his lips a bit not to get more of your mouth but to remove the cushion from underneath him. “Here, baby.”
You come off with a pop, eyes fluttering open so stunningly it makes his dick twitch. The hand in your hair untangles itself to tilt your face up — dazed, cockdrunk, drooling — before prying your jaw open with two fingers. They’re warm against your tongue, so lost in pleasure that you don’t wait to suck on his fingers too.
“Aht, aht, no. Take a breather, angel.”
You’re so floaty you don’t register what he wants you to do, so you shake your head with a pout. “Don’t wanna.”
Hongjoong simply breathes through his nose, nodding to the cushion he’s dumped to the floor and your mind clears up a little and your body readjusts to recognise the pain blooming in your knees.
There’s a skip in your heart, seeing how attentive your boyfriend could be even in the midst of his pleasure that you lace your fingers with his, using your other hand to guide the cushion to your knees.
“Thanks, Joong.” You smile, squeezing his hand in yours and he reciprocates with an equally lovesick one. “Now…”
With extra comfort for your knees and the smell of his body wash infiltrating your senses, your desperation spills over when you latch onto him again, free hand grasping at his thighs and digging.
It’s all the leverage you need as you start to bob your head, flattening your tongue while you look up at him. He’s not super big, but he’s thick, stretching your mouth as his tip threatens to hit the back of your mouth. Saliva escapes either way, dripping out the sides of your mouth as you sputter and whine around him.
“Love your cock,” You mumble incessantly into skin, coming up ever so often to give attention to his tip — suckling, tonguing at the slit, swirling all over the angry red head that he’s grunting under his breath. The soft track playing on in the background mixes with your pretty sounds, and provides a sweet harmony beside his soft, melodic breaths, willing himself not to cum so quickly.
You were fucking intoxicated on him and he was enamoured with you. “Wanna suck you dry, until you’re cumming all over my face, Daddy.”
Hongjoong knows what the name does to him. You both don’t enforce it often in the bedroom, but ever since you’ve gasped out the name out of the blue — with warm cheeks and an embarrassed mewl that has your boyfriend cooing — he doesn’t mind indulging you any time you call out to him.
“Needy baby, hm?” He’s slurring his words, eyes locked onto the way you pull him closer, setting a comfortable pace with your mouth going up and down. Your hand leaves his body, stroking the parts of him you can’t reach, filling the room with slick noises and a deep, guttural groan from the other.
You nod with his dick still in you, speech muffled. “Yeah, w—wanna help you.”
“Aw,” Hongjoong leans forward, causing his shaft to slip out of your mouth with strings of saliva connecting you to him. The sight sends him reeling — his pretty darling with hooded lids and parted lips, and you’re moaning softly at the way his heavy cock rests on your face. “My dirty girl.”
There’s a drawl to his voice as he says it, breaking your interlocked hands to blindly reach for his phone before resting back in the chair.
Before swiping left for the camera, Hongjoong doesn’t hesitate to ask a ‘this okay?’ before you give him a verbal response (he emphasises that normally, anyway, and it drives you crazy).
The framing of you in his phone is even more obscene, spreading his hand over his cock to cover it and the bottom half of your face. A small whine escapes from your throat at the clicks of the camera, shy but still loving the attention he gives you, knowing those pictures are the sole motivation for him on tour.
“Open up, baby.” Pure lust, dripping from his words as he twitches at your pliancy, tongue lolling out while you receive his thumb into your warm mouth and breathe hard along his shaft at the filthiness of it all. “Good girl.”
With the sound of the red button being clicked, Hongjoong releases his hand on your face to grab onto his dick, slapping it briefly before nudging the tip past your lips. “Go on, darling girl.”
You can’t help but let out wanton moans, putting pressure around his cockhead. “Make Daddy feel good.”
You don’t wait a second longer, surrounding his cock with your warmth and finding a rhythm to bob your head at while spit bubbles past your lips, coating his length with a shiny sheen. The wetness only contributes to the addicting sensations, bringing the lewd sounds to an all time high with the way you slurp and suck him clean.
“Shit, fucking hell—” Hongjoong murmurs as he struggles to keep the phone steady, unable to keep away from you by the way he bundles a bit of hair in his hand, nails prodding into your scalp.
But you can’t care about the sting of your hair being pulled, nor the leg of the chair obstructing your way, when there’s a plethora of praises and whimpers from your lover from above you. “You’re a wonder, baby.”
That prompts you to release him, grinning from ear to ear before letting more spit spill past your lips, switching instead to giving all your attention to his tip while you pump the rest of him. “Oh—Oh my God.”
Hongjoong shifts in his seat, video turning shaky with how warm your hands felt. Not to mention, your eyes, just begging him for relief, release. You alternate between sucking and swirling your tongue, mouth prepared for his load.
“Gonna—” His head tilts back, shivers travelling throughout his body that make him light-headed. But he can’t take his eyes off of you long enough, relaxing his scrunched up expression to meet your intense gaze. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”
“Give it to me.” It’s garbled, but it comes from your gut, voice hoarse and mind focused on one thing only. Your hands increase their pressure while you stick out your tongue. Hongjoong’s zoned in onto your little whines on his screen, thighs flexing until you’re squeezing the base of his cock and he’s thrusting his hips in ecstasy.
The first spurt of his cum takes you by surprise, spilling both in your mouth and over your features — he’s no videographer, but the way the studio light hits your skin, illuminating the spark in your eyes and the shine of your sweat is criminally breathtaking.
Though, your surprise is overridden immediately by how much he cums, tip leaking white and staining your cheeks, tongue.
“See what you do to me?” Hongjoong laughs breathlessly, using the hand in your hair to crane your head upwards, gently. “Makin’ me cum until I lose my fucking mind.”
He’s quick to spread his load all over your face, admiring your dazed look and feeling his heart and dick jump again when you lean on his thigh, stroking him lazily with a bite to your lip.
“The only one to get me worked up and inspired like this, pretty girl.” Your cheeks warm at his tender but firm tone. “You.”
With a lean into his touch, you lick your lips clean with a smile. “Happy to help, Daddy.”
even my enemies know how i like my batter ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ psh (m)
summary: an annoying roommate. a situationship going nowhere. heated exchanges. filthy dreams; your living situation with seonghwa is a cesspool of insults and clashes. until seonghwa’s dream and your growing, contrasting feelings has the both of you tangled in something more than arguments.
a/n: hyunjae makes a return as a situationship (but hes not as insufferable as the other fic). this is long and i went crazy idk!
word count: 9.6k
warnings: MINORS DNI. switch!seonghwa, switch!reader, non idol!au, roommate!au, sort of e2l? insufferable roommates to lovers (angst + fluff), LOTS OF PLOT & build-up, both seonghwa and reader have trauma, they both are not good people!!! but they learn along the way, reader is NOT cheating (n hyunjae is a pos), seonghwa has lewd dreams about reader, m! masturbation, oral (both m and f receiving) / cunnilingus + blowjob, face sitting, fingering, clit stimulation, deep-throating, cum shot, use of names (baby, angel, pretty, slut, cocksleeve), spitting, unprotected p -> v sex, cowgirl, creampie, implied multiple rounds, brief aftercare, sweet, sappy stuff at the end 🤍
You didn’t know whether being Seonghwa’s roommate was a blessing or a fucking curse.
But you’re willing to go with the second one especially when you’re now standing in front of your wardrobe in your towel, equal parts infuriated and perplexed at the colourful array of clothes that are ‘nicely’ arranged.
Which is something that would’ve been nice to know of, something you don’t hesitate to spout to Seonghwa with a flurry of hands that only garners a knowing smirk.
“I don’t care! If it’s nice and colour-coded! Seonghwa!” Your sentences are broken up from your efforts to search for the outfit you so carefully packed at the far end of the closet, and you don’t miss any breath to sigh.
The ‘easier time’ you thought you’d have with getting changed was clearly now wasted on searching frantically in the black and red sections of your carefully sorted wardrobe.
“But your closet’s always so untidy, I just thought I’d do you a favour.” Seonghwa clicks his tongue as he leans against your doorframe before averting his eyes to the ceiling as you change.
It’s the usual for both of you now; changing in front of each other (with your undergarments already on, of course) and manoeuvring around with ease that it irritates you just how used you are to each other’s presence.
Because while you’d love to banish him from the apartment you’re co-paying, Seonghwa has shown up at times: silent, delicious meals after bad days, new perspectives on a frustrating work project, straight-to-the-point advice with your situationship.
Though, that’s a good 20 percent. The other 80 is spent cursing him out and throwing whatever’s in your hand at him until all he can manage in the moment are smirks and scoffs.
Part of that 80 is something that seemed to be innate even prior to Seonghwa’s birth: cleaning and organising every single fucking surface until it’s sparkling clean.
It was a bearable and useful trait, even, when you first moved in, but when your art materials, tablescapes and other small trinkets go missing is when you start to feel the twitch in your eye.
It started with the small things: little decorations around the house like succulents, small figurines and wall decor going missing, finding them stuffed deep into the drawers of the TV console, replaced with his own decor, or thrown away completely.
“It’s just too messy, don’t you think?” Something goes off on you. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
Settling for a deep sigh, you only hope the other could compromise. It wasn’t fun to apartment hunt, so you’d decide not to place yourself in a bad spot since you met him just a week ago.
Well, that and also the fact that Hongjoong, a mutual friend of yours, had suggested this arrangement. With you searching for a place to stay and his friend looking for someone else to shoulder the rent after the last roommate left, it was a win-win situation.
“Yeah, but it’s still a shared space, Seonghwa.” You speak through gritted teeth with a forced smile, beginning to speculate that the last person didn’t exactly have a choice in leaving. It’s like Seonghwa can see the gears turning in your head, because the sides of his mouth curl up mischievously.
“Some of those were given to me by my friends; you can’t just throw my gifts away.”
“Well. Should’ve said that before I threw it away.” All he does is shrug while you follow his figure in disbelief as he walks past you into his room, but not before throwing you a brush and dustpan. “Here. Your own personal dustpan. You— uh— left some crumbs, by the way.”
“W-What— hey!” Seonghwa is so languid in his movements, slamming and locking the door with ease because he runs this show like clockwork. It’s always an incredulous stare followed by angry muttering and compliance, betting on two days before you pack up out of frustration.
But he’s again faced with your determined face four months later when you thump on his door just as the clock strikes twelve. “Park Seonghwa! I know you’re in there doing your stupid fucking LEGOs!”
The door swings open. “What the fuck do you want now?”
“You wanna tell me why my paints are all mixed up?” It’s hardly a question when all you’re doing is screaming in his face as you gesture repeatedly to your newly revamped art room.
You were banking on the possibility that you could get some down time by angrily painting out Seongwa’s infuriatingly pretty face before adding demon horns and sharp teeth (and maybe piercing the canvas itself). But it’s difficult to start when he’s arranged your paints in the colour spectrum, mixing both your acrylic and oil paint tubes.
You’re past manners at this point.
“What’s wrong with that? C’mon, don’t tell me it doesn’t look better sorted in the proper colours?”
“Yeah, no fucking shit, Seonghwa. If you actually opened your already big eyes to read the labels, you’d see that they said ‘acrylic’ and ‘oil’, you idiot!”
Seonghwa pouted and used those big eyes exactly the way you asked him to. “Aw, you think my eyes are big and beautiful?”
“Ugh, you’re not worth my breath. I’m taking a walk outside, far, far away from you!”
He only tsk’s with a mumble of annoying, thinking you’d take the chance to leave the place for good. That’s not the case, clearly. Especially at your altercation now five months later, and especially not when you’re hopping around in your jeans and still berating him for the closet situation.
You were already overshooting the timing you promised yourself you’d leave at. “You can’t just— clean anyone’s things just because you can, Seonghwa— Fuck.”
But he can hardly take you seriously when you’re crashing into your vanity and putting your head through the arm hole instead of the neck and he stifles a laugh at your scrunched up face. That strikes a chord in you.
“And you can’t just simply laugh when I tell you things, you asshole!” Another profanity leaves your lips when you aggressively tap your phone for the time, a glaring 16:41 lighting your face with a blue hue.
You’ve never touched up your face so quickly before — a little eyeshadow there, lip gloss here — before you’re grabbing your things and bolting out your room.
Not before slamming your wardrobe doors a little harder than usual and that makes Seonghwa wince before his lips spread into a smug smile. It’s like he can’t help the smugness; not that you care, at all. He tracks your frantic movements until you’re pushing at his chest with your finger.
Hm. Too busy thinking about your lips curling to hurl insults at him. Too occupied with smelling the Black Opium Glitter that makes its appearance every time you meet your stupid situationship.
“I mean it, Seonghwa,” You huff out as you continue to puncture your words with your finger, “Stay the fuck out of my room and the art room today.” Deciding you can’t look at Seonghwa for a second longer, you turn away and lift a hand to feel for your usual pendant around your neck.
And the other checks whether you’ve got everything, but it’s also, unfortunately, to silence whatever stupid crap that’s about to leave his mouth.
“Only today? Why? You gonna bring him back and fuck him while rolling in paint?”
You swear he’s gonna make you gauge your own eyes out one day, getting one step closer with already how much you roll them. There’s no helping as you reach up to clutch at your head, both hands tensed into agitated claws while you turn around slowly.
Seonghwa purses his lip with a quick cocked eyebrow, like it’s a challenge.
“Can you shut it.” It comes out more as a statement. You wish to see it come true. “And maybe. Jealous? I wonder if you even pull with how much you’re fucking bothering me, day in and day out.”
“Unf— low blow,” He clutches at his heart dramatically and fakes a fall into the dining chairs with a pout to his voice, "Targeting my ability to woo someone. I’m wounded.”
And it’s this kind of petty, back-and-forth exchange that you can’t stand. He’s always trying to get under your skin by fighting like kids at a playground that you don’t know why you give him the time of day. It’s no use having an attentive roommate at times (keyword!) when all he does is annoy and pester you.
Yet, you let your eyes linger over his stupid styled hair and plump lips for just a second longer. Why the hell is his hair even styled while he’s in the house?
“Ugh. Annoying.” You say under your breath like you aren’t any better, securing your heels and belongings before reluctantly turning back to him. “Don’t burn down the house. And stay out!”
Seonghwa grins and doesn’t say anything to your lone finger, not catching the faint At least let me clean the paint up after!
And that’s the last you allow yourself to have of him.
Hyunjae? Not so much, not when he’s got you wrapped around his finger with his sweet words and even sweeter declarations; and yet, you can’t help but feel a twinge of hesitation when he’s kissing down your neck by the front door after your little outing, desperate to have you.
Because while you fell long ago for him on unofficial dates and promises in the form of necklaces, it’s starting to wane. You’re not sure how many more I’m not ready’s and Let’s see how things go’s you can handle. If you’ve held hands, spent mornings together, kissed and made love, what’s wrong with the extra step in labelling?
But you push down those tricky feelings for now, opting to finally say something (again) tomorrow when the mood is calmer and quieter. Now, you’re too zoned into Hyunjae’s wandering hands, making you giggle when he sweeps you off your feet easily.
Only when he turns, does he see Seonghwa mid-snack. He’s unfazed and dressed, still with the styled hair that lights a fire under you. Though, you’re not sure if it’s you getting worked up from Hyunjae or the good old irritation bubbling to the surface.
“Why’re you dressed, dude?” Hyunjae’s met Seonghwa before, so he has no qualms about speaking up when you’re lacking some clothes, but you’re surprised to see your roommate raise his eyebrows, unimpressed.
“Went for an early dinner.” Your clashes are dramatic, explosive, but Seonghwa’s never this bothered and aloof. Nor speak in short answers. You always had trouble shutting him up; this was different.
“Oh, I didn’t know.” You murmur, a little confused at the breach of loose rules you set for you and Seonghwa. It wasn’t strict, but you’d at least tell each other if you had dinner plans since you didn’t want the problem of leftover food. Hyunjae lets you down easy when you pat his back, glancing between the two of you with impatience.
“Didn’t think you needed to know since, y’know.” Seonghwa gestures aimlessly at the two of you.
That makes you recoil just a bit, eyes travelling over his outfit and appearance — a little frazzled, unkempt — before they snap back to him staring holes into you. It’s piercing, that you don’t even have the chance to tell him you already scheduled a takeout delivery for the three of you.
Hyunjae interrupts. Famous for never reading the room, he pats Seonghwa on the back with a nod and nudges him towards his room, “Well! We hope you have plans for a movie in your room, preferably with your headphones on.” Like he’s waiting for your roommate to catch on.
Of course he does, fast, daring you to say something with a stare that gets broken with Hyunjae’s touch along your shoulder, dragging down, down, down to your hand.
“Y-Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
But Seonghwa doesn’t pull up a movie, music or even his new LEGO set that he’s been itching to build, not when he knows you’re just two doors down getting it on with someone like Hyunjae.
He doesn’t have anything against the dude, truly, but it’s something to give advice to your roommate and then having that same situationship slap your back like you’re a close friend of his. When all Hyunjae does is avoid commitment and is apparently allergic to being a partner worthy of your attention.
Seonghwa doesn’t understand why he’s so adamant on driving Hyunjae away, but in that moment, any emotion — confusion, anger, resentment — is directed towards cleaning his already spotless room. Clothes sorted, figurines and LEGO sets reformatted.
He’s this close to changing the whole layout of the room (the wardrobe’s already diagonal) when he hears laughter permeating the walls, getting closer.
It travels from your room to the art room just beside his and he cringes when he realises you might blow up once you realise he’s also stress colour-coded your paints, again. But all he hears are your giggles and Hyunjae’s grating voice paired with art materials being knocked over.
He can hear your voice, sort of — “The AC’s better in here. Seonghwa will kill me if he has to wash sweaty sheets again. No, no, sorry, I’m gonna keep my neckla…” — it’s drained, exasperated that Hyunjae easily distracts you with something he says.
Seonghwa has stopped listening by then. He rips his headphones from the chair, shoving it on and turning on some random song, though, even that unfortunately doesn’t block out much of your… sounds. And he stays like that, rearranging the layout of his room, dripping with sweat. But on top of keeping his pride intact, he doesn’t want to see your face.
Not the nasty scowl that’s become familiar to him, not the venom in your voice that has lost its kick.
Seonghwa doesn’t bother to find out why.
Hours after, you’re storing the last, uneaten takeout meal into the fridge.
—
A gasp, a whisper is what gets him to open his eyes. It’s not quite as he recalls, though, his walls colourful with scenery, the sheets warm under him despite sleeping on the floor out of spite the night before.
“Relaaxx, baby, dirty sheets aren’t gonna stay dirty forever.” Seonghwa feels a force on his naked chest and heat along his lower half.
But it’s not quite there, a barrier of want, desire separating him and the person on him. Head fuzzy, arms feeling like they aren’t his, wordless sounds.
“(Y-Y/N)? Wha—” Hot. On fire. It’s what Seonghwa feels. Smooth, silky — your voice curls around his skin, weaves in between his limbs and encloses around his ears. He’s drunk on you.
And floaty. You’re soft around the edges, somehow blurring into the light surrounding him.
“You need to unclench sometimes, Hwa.” You hum, moving your hips slowly to test the waters. His shaky hands scale your thighs right up to your bare ass; weren’t you clothed—?
“Always so,” you sink down, “uptight.” Your warmth around his cock is what earns a deep groan, eyes flitting between your face contorted into pleasure, the dangling pendant you always seem to wear around your neck, and the sinful drag of his length against your walls.
Good is the only thing Seonghwa can gasp out, so good, so perfect. “It is, baby. Wanna be here forever.” You whimper out. He can hardly breathe, the sensation clouding his judgement and whatever he had with you is forgotten.
Your snarl softens into ecstasy, your taut hands into feather light touches.
But that’s where it’s off, isn’t it? Skin too bright it burns wrong, heat too intoxicating it’s got his hips bucking, kiss so sloppy it sparks something he doesn’t want to acknowledge.
It’s when he thinks he feels you clench around him is when his dick twitches and—
It never comes, because Seonghwa’s jolting awake with a small yelp and it descends right into a groan.
“Shit. My back…” He’s awkwardly twisted, hands braced against the floor, but also awkwardly, incredibly hard from whatever that was that he has to take a breather. But it hurts, so, so bad he wishes you—
And that’s when it sinks into him. Wanting your smaller hands around him? Craving your hot breath mingling with his?
Where was the usual provocation of his heart, if not just manifesting in a different way? That leaves Seonghwa in a dilemma, fingers aching to inch into his shorts to relieve himself with dream-you infiltrating his thoughts. But it’s you.
“This is driving me fucking crazy.” The man mutters to himself, grabbing something to hide his very obvious hard-on at least until the restroom, not aware of your predicament on the other side of the wall.
In the next room over, Hyunjae greets you with a pretty smile and a raspy voice into your neck.
You let him kiss all over your chest, but the spark inside is merely a warm, brief breeze. His hands don’t seem to make your body buzz in anticipation. And yet, you pull him closer with a carefully carved hum, with rehearsed lips.
“Hyunjae?”
“Hm?”
Here goes nothing. With a deep breath, you’re working up the courage to say the words, frankly, that you’ve already said so many times. And yet, you at least think you deserve this.
“Are we,” you sigh with a smile; you hope it’ll soften the blow, “are we going anywhere with this?”
“What do you mean, baby?” Hyunjae whispers, too preoccupied with running his hands up and down your naked sides that now feel intrusive, invasive. Even if he’s not showing that he knows, the small taps he places along your skin tells you everything; it makes the sides of your mouth twitch up.
That the tragedy of learning someone else is all on a bet, on a gamble that they’ll turn out to be a decent enough partner that doesn’t leave you hanging.
“You know what I’m talking about, Hyunjae.”
There’s a faint groan of disapproval, knowing you’d bring this up sooner or later. With a huff, he sits up to face away from you, sheets tempestuously pooling around his body so much that he feels unreachable and unscalable. And here you were, swimming in disappointment and frustration like it wasn’t the same old game.
“Sweetheart—” You hardly try to mask your scoff from behind him. Sweetheart, at a time like this, but before he can continue, Seonghwa’s interrupting the both of you with a sharp rap on the door.
“Breakfast’s ready.” It’s short and sweet, even if a little tense.
“Y-Yep, we’ll be out.” Again, you’ll let this go just as he turns back to you, a sneaky hand along your calf that immediately sends heat towards your core, sending you falling into a dizzying dilemma that eventually you find is a bottomless pit.
Seonghwa, on the other hand, doesn’t take long to fall apart once he’s slammed the bathroom door shut. The first touch along his cock makes him lean forward onto the shower wall, utterly overwhelmed with everything you that he doesn’t want to indulge himself in.
But his hand is the closest thing to your heat within the dream, the snipping cadence of your insults and your moans from last night merging and mingling until it ingrains itself in his brain, spurring him on as he strokes himself.
Soft fuck’s are all he can manage, avoiding your name like a plague as his vision of the white wall blurs and you come into focus. That flash of your fingertips, dipping into his skin and pushing; the easy, quiet yield into you. Seonghwa spills with a loud groan that’s covered by the shower, painting the walls white with a shiver.
The loud, quick pounding of his heart, the strain in his arm, your face phasing in and out of focus.
“Oh, no. No, no, no.”
—
It’s a while before you and Hyunjae emerge from the room, but Seonghwa’s got all the time in the world, especially when he’s cumming the fastest he’s ever done and then taking the swiftest shower known to man.
It isn’t in his genes — detailed, meticulous cleaning and all — but if he couldn’t trust his words, his actions in that… lewd dream, it wouldn’t be any different when you were in the room.
He’d cook a cordial breakfast, serve it and book it out of there, but he’s already cut his finger from cutting fruits, dripped batter all over the stove and spurted maple syrup onto the island.
Seonghwa’s troubles didn’t end there, culminating into a shattered plate on the floor when he was viciously scrubbing the dirty counter.
Despite all the chaos, he thanks whoever’s up there that the knob to the art room doesn’t budge, and gets to cleaning. Only ten minutes later, do you walk out sleepily behind Hyunjae.
“Morning.” It’s curt, but it’s the usual for you especially when you’re greeting Seonghwa. The lack of response stifles you in your tracks yet again, looking up, puzzled, to find him with an awkward smile and scrunched shoulders with a bag full of porcelain shards.
“Seonghwa…?” You trail off for any sort of reaction but his expression worsens the closer you come and all you get is a small squeak before he’s bolting off with intent. It backfires when he realises he’s briskwalking the wrong way, nodding off to the two of you before he’s out the door again.
Even Hyunjae who’s usually clueless about things is looking at you for answers, but you’re not that much more knowledgeable about his different facades (if he even had more than one, other than being a nuisance in your life). And definitely not enough to be able to explain something so out of character such as that, despite being roommates for nine months.
“Oh! Well, forget about him. Look.” that prompts your head to snap to the counter — perhaps so on edge from Hyunjae’s increasingly nasal voice, and your countless, crushing thoughts — that the little gesture of a breakfast fills your heart with uncharacteristic warmth.
“Dude made us breakfast. Dunno why yours are waffles though but, whatever.” You stifle a smile, before letting your hands guide you over the stove with a washcloth.
There’s hardly any interaction with Seonghwa for the rest of the day except for maybe the small scoff when you thank Hyunjae’s bare minimum act of cleaning up, pushing the apartment into a weird sense of calm and serenity you’ve not had for a long time.
It’s two, three, four days too long that you realise something’s off. It’s almost radio silent two doors down and has been for the past few days.
This wasn’t like Seonghwa. As much as he got under your skin, he never passed off the opportunity to piss the hell out of you, whether it’s by changing your shower head’s preferred pressure settings entirely or simply putting your favourite mug on the highest shelf.
You can still hear him usually in the form of surprise, from time to time — whether he’s gaming, watching a movie or talking on the phone — but the silence that follows is nothing short of secretive, like he’s afraid of getting caught. And you know he’s somehow getting food into his room, you just don’t know how.
It’s like you were living with a ghost who did nothing but clean, countertops still shining and floors free of dust. Anything involving you, though… nothing.
At that, you’re reaching up to cradle something usually hanging around your neck for some comfort, but you forget you’ve lost it after Seonghwa’s weird exit and isolation.
It’s late four days later when Seonghwa sees your shadow by his door, no doubt hovering and pacing that he feels something pull at his heart. Not the typical irk he feels upon sensing your presence — because frankly, he’s done anything but think about messing up your little creations lately — guilt, regret, a little mix of anticipation and trepidation?
You’ve visited twice more in his sleep over the past few days. Kissed him breathless, made him harder than he’s ever been, whispered sweet things he’s never thought you’d say.
He’s afraid. How can he even begin to redeem himself with how much crap he’s pulled on you for the past nine months? You’d look at him crazy if he even mentioned how you appeared in his dreams, let alone had some semblance of lust disguised as infatuation for you. Or was it infatuation disguised as lust? He wasn’t sure any more.
Rustle of paper, several crushed drafts and then finally slip.
Seonghwa gets up, groggy and sluggish. It’s not that he hasn’t showered or continued his hobbies, but staying in bed rethinking how he felt about his (actually attractive) roommate did things to him.
what the hell r u doing in there
There’s a weak smile on Seonghwa’s face but it drops right away when he feels the ghost of your teasing touches. He scours his mind for any reason why you’d be trying to talk to him. Was rent coming up?
Your impatience seeps through the door; the sighs, your tapping finger. Scribble. Slip.
seonghwa i can hear u. can u say smth even if its smth stupid like ‘ur mom’ or whatever. not that i gaf
You gave too many fucks, actually. The house’s too quiet without your bickering, and there’s still batter left in the fridge that you wouldn’t dare touch without Seonghwa’s permission. Well, you still would, but he’s always been a little better at putting the right amount into the waffle maker.
You liked waffles for breakfast, and you liked his aggravating voice in your ears, you guess. Those were the reasons you told yourself.
Seonghwa rolls his eyes at your persistence, heading over to his desk to get a post-it of his own. For fun, he slips it under the door without writing anything. When you kiss your teeth after turning it over and over, you ram your elbow into his door.
Seonghwa laughs. Freely. He catches himself before it can cross over the line, before it spills into the hallway and maybe, maybe into your skin.
tell me ure not dying in there, at least.
Your ink on his paper, like it’s a premonition. Your scribbles are a little messy against the stark white paper, but he likes it.
i’m not dying. don’t kid yourself into worrying about me.
who said my ass is worried about you .. whos going to pay the rent if you’re stuck there? like dude. im not exactly ceo material ..
i could always just put the money under this gap. somehow, you’ll manage.
Slip.
That’s all he says. Another thud against his door, but this time it’s your fist and Seonghwa giggles slightly to himself before there’s a small laugh emanating from the other side of the door, too.
You’re not sure what to say after, staring at his carefully written words that you don’t notice the door opening slowly. He’s cracked it open while sitting, looking at you carefully as you lean back on your hands, in shock.
For a moment, no one speaks — he’s much more disheveled than his usual self, but he looks healthy and alive — before you’re letting out a small sigh of relief.
Even as you move to look in (curiosity’s gotten the best of you, you haven’t seen his room in detail anyway), Seonghwa tracks you, albeit this time with softer, unsure eyes.
For how long he’s been locked inside, the state of his room isn’t too bad except a lingering stale smell, but it’s nothing major. You take in his written words, his room from where you were seated, noticing how they reflect the spotless apartment.
But the latter always lacked something. It was too sterile, too pure and clean that it felt unlived in. Seonghwa’s room had touches of colour from his LEGO sets, the figurines on the desk, even the slightly messed up bedsheets gave way to how chaotically he sleeps.
Seonghwa waits with bated breath as you stand up, stepping past the doorframe and into the room. He’s quick to get up, too, clearing all the paper you’ve used up in your little chat and scooting inwards, wincing when his ass bumps into the corner of the desk.
The little eye roll you do calms him down a little, “nice nerd room you’ve got here.”
Seonghwa huffs at the little jab, but nevertheless allows you to enter. Like you’re someone hunting him, he shrinks under your gaze but takes the chance to scan over you. The wonder-filled eyes, the tempting exposed skin thanks to your tank top, your… lips turned downwards?
“—nghwa. Seonghwa!” His brows furrow.
“W-What?”
He looks at what you’re holding: a plastic bowl. As you look into it, you recognise the intricate carving of your family necklace, an heirloom; the other is a bit more tacky, a gift from Hyunjae early on but it’s something you still cherish(ed).
That curiosity is gone. The desire to give Seonghwa a chance — dissolved.
“Why do you have them?” Fuck. Why’d he leave the bowl there? He was planning to put it back silently after soaking the jewellery in some vinegar and water to clean it, but he didn’t think you were gonna slip him post-its so soon like you were in tenth grade, and then come into his room.
But it wasn’t your fault. Not at all, when all you’ve done is tolerate him while he terrorises you and drives you crazy.
“Is— is this where you’ve been keeping my necklaces all this time? You know how hard I’ve been looking for these?”
Seonghwa only swallows, hands curled into fists as he resists the urge to reach out to you.
“I just wanted to… Christ.” His heart sinks even more when you open your pendant and the photograph of your grandmother is nowhere to be found. You look at him in desperate confusion. “W-Wait—!”
He frantically searches his desk for your grandmother’s picture, but it’s strangely missing. The one time he’s not neat enough, it comes at the expense of something dear to you.
Seonghwa stutters, hands out and opening drawers, checking under figurines but—
“Fucking forget about it, Seonghwa.”
“No, no, no, I had it! It was right under here—”
“I said forget it!” The loud, booming volume of your voice takes him aback. Your tone always had a sharp edge to it, but it always only had hints of passivity. Always warnings, never commands. “Can’t believe I came in here thinking I'd be worried about you. What a joke.”
“Of course you have my things, always in your clutch. You’re already always in my fucking business — what’s one more, right?! Move in, get all my shit thrown away. Transform the extra room, get my paints mixed up.”
Seonghwa scoffs. The accusations in your voice sends his initial apprehension running, and his heart burns again, except he doesn’t know if he wants to kiss you stupid or slam the door in your face. “Is it so fucking difficult to imagine someone wanting a clean, organised home?”
“No, but this is a shared space, Seonghwa!” You can’t help but echo your words from your very first conflict. “You wanna keep your stupid figurines and ‘pristine’ look, fine! But stop coming into my rooms to push it onto me.”
“But you don’t understand—”
“What don’t I understand, Seonghwa? That you can’t respect my boundaries as a roommate just because you need to fulfill your cleaning commissions for the day?”
“Cleaning commissions? You think I do this for fun?” Seonghwa huffs with indignation, crossing his arms and walking right up to you.
“It sure as hell looks like it.” He towers over you, but you stand your ground with a heaving chest and spiteful stare.
“I clean because I have to.”
“What kind of excuse is that?”
“The kind that gets you beat because apparently I ‘can’t do anything right in my life’. The kind that has your mother belittling you even as an adult because you missed a spot, (Y/N)!”
You take a step back as he takes one forward. “I clean because it’s the only way I feel control over my life! Less chaos, less calamity. Disorder. I never fucking hated it before, but now anything out of place makes me twitch.”
“And then you come into my life. Your mismatched clothing, your crumbs all over the island, your stupid little pretty face saying the meanest things.”
Seonghwa walks you into his cupboard and your breath hitches when your back meets hard wood. He tsks, “and yet, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. I wanted to drive you away, I wanted to drive you to the ends of the earth and leave me with my own problems. It just happened that you’re so all-over-the-place that it was the perfect opportunity to do both. Kill two birds with one stone.”
“But you were different. You’re different.”
The laugh of disbelief you let out is deafeningly loud. You push at his chest with the bowl you’re still carrying, not knowing why your vision’s blurring. You’re just tired.
“Different? Different how, Seonghwa? How much more different can I be from every other person who you’ve driven out before ’cause you can’t face your trauma? Am I just some pawn for you to push around?”
The other simply stands dumbfounded as your words sink in. Is that why Hongjoong suggested a two bedroom apartment? He was the only one ever to know about my fractured relationship with my mother.
“No. No, you’re not but—” Seonghwa groans. “It’s just—”
“What, Seonghwa? You surely had no problem shouting earlier, but now you’re tongue-tied?”
“You drive me fucking mad, you know that?” With hands outstretched, he looks almost crazed as if something’s been bugging him for the past few days, like something’s holding him back.
“But unlike my previous roommates, they’re weren’t and are not,” Seonghwa cradles his face, mumbles, “you. In the way that despite cleaning up your crumbs, I’d let you mess up the house all over again. Because it means I’d get one more fight with you.”
“Stop fucking lying, Seonghwa.” You don’t even have enough strength to push at his chest any more. Revealing his heavy past, dropping a line like that, the audacity is through the roof. You waste no time in taking your necklaces and leaving with badly contained sniffles. But with a hand over yours, he stops you.
“I’m not. I—I don’t know what changed, but, I don’t know how to feel about you. But it’s not whatever I felt before… that.”
You feel your heart simultaneously sink and skip. Sighing, you flick his hand off of you, not bothering to even try to find out what that means.
“I just want to be taken seriously in a house that requires the work of two people. Stop saying stupid, unserious shit like this, like— like, a simple confession would make me forget about everything you’ve done!”
“It’s not stupid when I’ve had dreams, (Y/N). Dreams.” Seonghwa almost reaches forward to grasp at your shoulders but stops himself instantly. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
“What?” What kind of dreams would—
He runs his hands through his hair with fervour. “I don’t know how to feel about you because for the past few days I’ve been thinking non-stop about you. All because of a damn dream.”
“I—I can’t control dreams, Seongh—”
“I’m not saying you are! Fuck, none of this is your fault, it’s just—”
Seonghwa’s skin’s on fire, all too similar to the dreams he’s had with you, making the mistake of looking at your guarded stance of clenched fists and furrowed eyebrows.
Yet, yet, your eyes; they beg him to continue even though every fibre in his body is telling him not to.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
You tilt your head and narrow your eyes, unknowingly letting the tension between the both of you move entirely from unfiltered rage into something more, heated with heavy breaths. One step becomes two.
“Like you want me to undo everything I’ve ever done.”
With your necklaces in your hand, you throw the empty bowl at him with a sneer. He doesn’t catch it, letting its fall reverberate throughout his room. “I deserve at least that much, don’t you think, asshole?”
A beat of silence. “Because I will. Ten times, hundredfold over.”
The resolute firmness of Seonghwa’s voice makes you shrink back into your body, feeling like prey with the intense way he stares at you.
But the way your heart picks up isn’t just from the magnitude of his fiery gaze, devoted to his claim. You recognise it as something that has made its presence known before.
In the way you’ve had your eyes rake over his toned figure after his showers. You can’t deny following the cascade of droplets down his broad back when he picks at the hanging plants you’ve hung up. Or even the slenderness of his fingers as they flex around a rag.
And now, along the curves and dips of his arms as they rest comfortably on his hips, looking at you to say something, anything. But what do you say to that?
You gulp down your pride, directing your attention elsewhere — as if his display case of Star Wars sets are the most interesting thing in the world at the moment. He takes the chance to close in on you and your heart again.
“You can’t bring back anything that’s already done, idiot.” It’s hardly coherent with the way you’re talking more to yourself than Seonghwa.
Your eyes stay locked downwards, the scandalous hug of his tight tank around his torso now infiltrating into your eyeline. You watch, entranced, with how he takes a breath. “T—Then, let me make it up to you.”
You should be screaming, mad at him and shoving at his chest, stalking off right back to your room to sulk. But you do anything but that—
“Show me how sorry you are, then,” Your head shoots up, locking eyes with him, “Park Seonghwa.”
—and have the gall to be surprised when he lunges forward to slam his lips into yours. You stumble, eyes wide with shock but you soon receive him with moans, body staggering back into the wardrobe just as his hand cradles your head.
With his other, Seonghwa removes your necklaces timidly from your palm to place them down, but you halt him with a whispered wait.
In your needy haze, you hardly can separate Hyunjae’s cheap necklace from your family’s heirloom, throwing it over your shoulder once you feel the thin, fragile chain of it. Holding up the locket, you shake it in his face.
“I’m seriously going to kill you if you don’t find that photo.”
Seonghwa cringes, nodding quickly to your threat before you relinquish all control; your necklace in his hand which he sets down like glass, your body to his strong grip.
He pulls you in until there’s no space left between the both of you, pressing his soft lips onto yours yet again with impatient passion that it’s got you gasping. Taking the opportunity to slip his tongue in, Seonghwa walks the both of you back until his knees hit the edge of the bed and the heated kiss only increases in sloppiness.
It’s not difficult to lose your breath fast when he’s got you pressed up against him like this, traces of arousal shooting down from your neck, to your chest and straight down to your cunt.
“God, you’re fucking insane in the head.” Seonghwa simply groans out, as if he can’t believe you’re real in the flesh.
“I’ll get more insane if you continue to talk.”
Seonghwa smiles with a bite to his lip and you roll your eyes with one, too. A curious finger dips into his swollen lips, reddening from the roughness; you play with it before slipping it in and his mouth naturally parts to let you in.
He holds your fervent eyes as he wraps his tongue around the flesh of your finger. The lewd act has you squeezing your thighs together, pressing down on his jaw and he lets you.
“Hm. Pretty mouth.” A small shove and Seonghwa’s falling onto his bed and the sight makes you just a little light-headed. But you have an ace hidden, too, dipping your thumbs into the thin booty shorts you’ve got on and pulling it down, down, down your legs to reveal a light grey lacy pair.
Originally intending to call Hyunjae over to chase your worries away, you think that it’s a lucky coincidence, that you’re showing off how the fabric stretches over your skin to Seonghwa instead.
You’re quick to straddle him and you whine softly at feeling his hard-on, hands braced upon his toned stomach. “Too bad you use it too much only to annoy me.”
Feigning a pondering expression, you inch your body up with every other word that you can feel every ridge, every fold through your thin panties. Seonghwa watches you with wonder, and with hooded lids. “If only there was a way to get you to shut your mouth.”
A desperate plea leaves Seonghwa’s lips as your pussy hovers over his sternum, tilting so close into where he wants, where he needs you. There’s a damp spot staining your underwear that he can’t look away from, tugging you over with his stronger arms and begs with his wide eyes.
You can’t even finish nodding before Seonghwa’s swiping your panties to the side and latching his mouth onto your pulsing cunt, making you stutter out a deep, pornographic moan.
“So good. So warm,” It’s like something takes over him. He hums into your puffy clit, plunging his tongue right into your sensitive spots as he drinks up all your juices, “want this pussy on me forever.”
Hearing such words from the other makes you clench around nothing, a high-pitched squeal escaping from your lips when he tightens his hold around your thighs and yanks you more onto his lips.
“Soak me, angel. Want to feel you, all of you,” It’s pure agony laced within his muffled words, the vibrations sending chills up your spine, “wanna make you feel like you’ve never hated me.”
Two fingers prods at your hole from behind, entering you swiftly from how dripping wet your pussy was. You fall forward into his headboard, hands gripping it so tightly your knuckles turn white, but Seonghwa doesn’t let up with his tongue, nor his gaze.
“Sweeter, so much fucking sweeter than my dreams.” Your cunt’s gripping so intensely around his fingers as he continues to abuse your clit, circling his tongue around your bud with the same pace he thrusts into you with. And it sends your mind to another place that only Seonghwa’s eyes can anchor down, shining with a cheeky glint when you start grinding your hips into his face.
Until now, you haven’t trusted your words, but his long fingers reach places in you that you can’t even fathom and the overwhelming pressure of his mouth, sucking and sucking that you can’t help but gasp out a faint Seonghwa.
His eyes light up without fail and he only goes back to devouring you and your cunt whole — fingers keeping his consistent, deep pace and his unrelenting tongue working you to the bone — until your throat’s spilling more yes’s and please’s.
“Yes— yes, fuck, that’s it. Cum all over my tongue.” Your orgasm crests and comes crashing down over you with repeated whines, nowhere to run when Seonghwa’s got you trapped under his arms as your thighs shake around him. “Good fucking girl.”
You hate how much of an effect it has on you, looking at him from below you with a barely focused glance that it makes you shy, again.
But there’s disappointment when he looks at you like it burns him, as if he didn’t say all those filthy things just as you lift a leg off of him, transformed to the Seonghwa who was unsure before. It’s followed by a frantic swipe of his mouth like he didn’t just make you cum. You frown.
You can’t fault his… urge to feel clean, but if he’s willing to let you mess the fuck out of this apartment and subsequently, his life, then…
Wordlessly, you lower yourself to your knees on the floor with shaky legs, tugging on his legs to get him to stand up. A soft oh my god leaves his lips when you palm at the tent in his boxers, knees buckling when your fingers slip past the waistband and you pull, slowly.
“Fuck…” You watch in awe when his cock springs out, hitting his abdomen once the boxers are off. It’s pretty, and big, the tip an angry red that’s already leaking pre-cum.
“Angel,” Seonghwa whimpers when you wrap your hand around his length, giving an experimental kitten lick to his weeping tip, “you’re driving me crazy.”
“You said that, already.” You tease before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, suckling and moaning at the taste of his pre. But he’s so tense, worrying about your cum dripping to the floor, about the drool leaving the corners of your mouth. Even if he doesn’t say it, you can tell.
“Seonghwa.”
“Huh?” His eyes meets yours.
“Stop worrying about the clean-up. There’s always later, and tomorrow, and lots of time after that.”
“But—” Placing a hand on his thigh, you ground him to you.
“It’s just work that requires two people, and whatever we’re doing now; needs two people, too. Don’t worry, we’ll get it clean.”
“Y—Yeah.” Seonghwa’s still a little on edge, but he’s comforted (and a little sheepish) at the words you’d recycled from earlier. Oh, and he’s going to make sure you feel every last bit reassured after the last nine months. “Yeah.”
“Even if I’m still a little angry with you.” With a click of your tongue, you simply purse your lips and shrug. But your need for him overrides your anger for now, taking the leap of grabbing his hand and guiding it to your head. “Take charge. Use me, and later, show me how much you want to make it up to me. And let it be messy. Deal?”
Seonghwa’s gaze hardens at your proposal, deal. Slowly, bit by bit, he lets go of the pressure to be prim and proper as you take over, tapping his tip on your tongue for a bit and making sure he sees. His hands gradually tangle themselves more in your hair as you finally stop with the teasing, bobbing your head along his length while your hands stroke the rest of him.
“That’s warm, f-fuck—” His eyes are scrunched while your mouth engulfs him, swirling your tongue around his throbbing cock that only seems to grow in your hold.
You come up for air ever so often, gathering saliva and spitting all over to make it wet and Seonghwa almost buckles back onto the bed at the visual.
“Just like that, baby, what a pretty cocksleeve.” He groans out, surprised even at his own words but you love it, switching to thumbing his tip that has him whining out. With locked eye contact, you drag your tongue from the bottom of his cock to the tip before circling your tongue around it.
It’s not long until you come up with a pop, stabbing your fingers into the back of his thighs before using only your mouth, sinking deeper and deeper until his tip hits the back of your throat and your nose is buried in his pubes. You hum. Seonghwa hisses with a strain to his voice, hands tightening in your hair until there’s a sting to your scalp.
The pain only makes you moan around his cock, your sounds reverberating through his body. “That’s it, pretty. Take my cock like a good little slut.”
Needing air, you pull away with a needy moan, eyes rolling back at his words. You’re back to sucking him off sloppily, saliva dripping everywhere with strings of it connecting your lips to his tip as he guides your movements a little rougher now, no doubt desperate for release.
Seonghwa surprises you when he stops altogether, the weight on your head gone and a hand finding rhythm along his length. His other hand grabs your face, mouth parted into an ‘o’ from his fingers.
“Open.” The simple, tense command has you rubbing your thighs together, sticking your tongue out immediately. You feel dizzy, lost in the sight of Seonghwa pumping his cock and whining out your name like a prayer. “Keep lookin’ at me like that, y-yes. Such an obedient little thing.”
“Gonna give you all of my cum—!” So obsessed with the view that you flinch just a little when his cum shoots out, painting your face a translucent white and tainting your ears with his delicious moans and pleas. Seonghwa’s cumming so much, staining your features with streaks of white while dumping the leftover cum right into your mouth.
He repeats what you did before — slapping his tip on your tongue and relishing in the wet taps of your saliva and his cum, cheeks going just a bit red from everything he’s said and done.
They stay red the whole time the two of you are tangled in the slowly soaking sheets, as Seonghwa watches you climb over him. You look like a dream — literally — dripping pussy hovering just over his cock before the spark ignites.
Your skin on his is as beautiful as he imagined, burning with the same intensity that melts away that very barrier. Between your personalities, your bodies, hell, Seonghwa didn’t care any more.
Not when he had you, unfiltered, primal, raw now; he wasn’t going to let anything stand between the two of you any longer.
“This better than your—fuck—dream?” You tease, dragging your folds along the underside of him. Seonghwa’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your heat, nodding furiously to your question.
“Yes, baby, so so m—” He’s panting, looking up at you like his subconscious hadn’t planted this seed in his head days ago. The breathlessness, the heat rushing to his cock, the spill of your arousal around him — it smothers him in the best way possible when you lift your hips with a hand between you.
You don’t give him what he wants just yet, teasing your pussy along his length. Up, down. Up, down. “Please—”
“Please what, Hwa?” He twitches at that, making you giggle. “You like it when I call you Hwa?”
“Yeah,” Seonghwa drags you down by your arms, “P-Please ride me.”
“Aw, when you’re begging like that…” You trail off, mouth just hovering over his, eyes flitting between his plump lips and unsteady eyes, guiding his cock to your waiting hole.
And when his tip nudges past your folds, Seonghwa shivers at your suffocating warmth, your walls clamping around him like a vice.
“S-So big—” You can’t help but gasp out, sinking down onto him until he bottoms out. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve taken, filling you up so immensely it’s got your head fuzzy.
You waste no time to start moving, palms flat against his front as you work your hips and the drag of your sopping cunt around him has him groping blindly at your sides, your plump ass.
“Wait—fuck—!” Seonghwa’s eyebrows are furrowed, mouth dropped open from the sensations. You move like the thought of stopping is criminal, giggling to yourself when you feel the other meet your thrusts from below you, “a-angel—”
“Wai—” He doesn’t have the chance to complete his sentence before his tip spurts white into your pussy, coating your walls with cum. Hips bucking pathetically, and body shaking like a leaf, Seonghwa mentions anything from your name to expletives.
Your body falters when you feel his cum flood your cunt, switching to slower movements as you feel everything spill past where you were connected and ignoring the intoxicating friction between your clit and his pubes.
“Oh, look at you…” You smirk, fingers roaming all over his body. “Baby’s cumming so quickly. I haven’t even finished yet.”
Pouting, your hips pick up the pace yet again, ignoring Seonghwa’s pleas to slow down as you chase your own high. But you’re so absorbed with the way his cock fills you up that you don’t realise he’s recovering from the intense orgasm and aiding your ministrations.
Until Seonghwa wraps both arms around your middle, causing you to fall forward with a yelp. You just manage to brace your fall with two hands with either side of his head; he would’ve liked it better for you to collide with his lips.
But he finds it better this way, especially when he plants his feet into the mattress and spreads your pussy, thrusting his length upwards into you so roughly you jerk forward again.
Seonghwa has the pleasure of seeing your expression twist into pure ecstasy, smirking when he meets your eyes. “I can be annoying, too.”
“You have been, everyday, H—Hwa…” You barely manage to get out as his hips meet your ass without any rest, sending the room into a concoction of obscene squelches and whines. “And yet, I’m still fucking you.”
Seonghwa rolls his eyes in his classic Seonghwa way, but is humbled when you grab his chin like he did earlier. He’s pliant. Saliva drips from your mouth, a blob dripping right down on his tongue and you swear you feel him twitch in you.
“Swallow, asshole.” He obeys even with your dimming insult, but not before giving you a hooded glare, making your confidence wane once he continues to ram into your needy cunt.
“You forget I can just leave you high and dry, baby. Don’t test me.” Despite the way your body’s rocking, you smile back teasingly, caging Seonghwa between your arms and leaning over his mouth.
“And you forget that you’re the one who’s made my life a living hell.”
“Oh, shut up.” Seonghwa sneaks a hand towards your clit, torturing your sensitive bud before whispering against your lips. You think you fall deeper. “You love it.”
His pelvis meets yours in pussydrunk, nasty thrusts that soon turn sloppy, sinking into you with a mix of infuriation and lust. You don’t last long as the added stimulation sends you tipping over the edge, Seonghwa following close behind while he spills white again into your tight pussy.
“Is this sorry enough for you, angel?” He grunts out against your lips, the hands around you unconsciously soothing your trembling figure on him. The sheets are dirtied, soiled with sweat and cum, but Seonghwa just wants more. More messiness, more you.
“Not even close, Hwa.” You laugh breathlessly, his breath hot on your lips and you can’t get enough, “give it to me. Fuck me like you hate me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
—
Seonghwa never truly rests for two, three more rounds until he’s got your body limp in his hold as he cleans you up. Movements slow and gentle, and so unlike the man who liked to piss you off. Even the way he talks—
“I got you, baby, know you’re sensitive.” Touching you like you’re delicate lace, he parts your legs to wipe up your ruined cunt. But you’re suddenly shy, exposed and all.
“(Y/N)? Needa clean you up, angel.” You mumble out a sleepy, cute It’s messy, before retaliating with a You asked me to be messy!
“Shut up, Hwa.” He looks up from his task to see a pout, before hiding your face into a pillow and letting him move your legs. He pretends not to notice your intake of breath when he mutters an Attagirl under his breath.
“What are we?” It’s the dreaded question you’ve come to ask, always at the breakfast table, always in the morning. You watch Seonghwa’s back nervously, admiring how his muscles move and yet, mourning the fact you might not get to learn every dip, every crevice in this weird, fucked up relationship you’ve got.
You’re still harbouring grudges, still mad about the little gifts he so carelessly threw away, still angry about the decal he peeled away that left adhesive marks. You’re still hurt on the words he’s flung at you, at the loathing he brings out of you.
But within Seonghwa’s exasperating, peeving personality accompanied by his unwanted affinity for neatness, you can see the care, the adoration he has for you. Maybe you wouldn’t move past infatuation, maybe not even past lust. You’re not sure yourself.
Seonghwa meets you halfway. Unlike Hyunjae, he grasps that uncertainty and holds your hand through it. He doesn’t let you wade through the dark alone.
He takes the troubling act of gambling of learning someone for the first time and gives you a challenge. You’ve played that challenge, you’ve crossed paths, you’ve butted heads, except now, instead of colliding with unmoving egos, you melt, soften into each other like the syrup on your waffles.
“I… don’t know.” Seonghwa turns around with your waffles and his pancakes, cooked to perfection with syrup and strawberries. He comes around the island with eyes locked on you — he doesn’t need to do that — to place your breakfast down, to stand between your legs.
It makes your stomach stir that you clutch at your newly cleaned locket, but your heart’s snug when his lips meet your forehead. Gentle, like the sun’s first kiss upon the moon during an eclipse.
“But, I know that whatever happens, I want it to be with you.”
summary: hongjoong’s cooped up for too long in his studio that he’s lost inspiration and drive; you have just the thing to help him.
a/n: IM ALIVE!!!! im just extra busy these few days . anyway ive been getting brain worms about hongjoong a lot lately, may or may have been fuelled by this edit with dilf!joong in my head
word count: 1.4k
warnings: MINORS DNI. soft dom!hongjoong, sub!reader, pet names (baby, pretty girl, angel), praise, slight daddy kink, dumbification, slight subspace, oral (m! receiving) / blowjob, handjob, spit is involved, semi-public sex (recording studio), photos and filming with consent, cumshot (on face), i have daddy issues and i need hongjoong biblically
Hongjoong was past being productive.
But what he was preoccupied with seemed way better than brainstorming ideas for the group’s next title track, at least with how much he’s been locking himself up in the studio with little to no inspiration.
He could use a little break, you thought. He deserves this, you think. And it’s true when you first swipe your tongue along the underside of Hongjoong’s dick — his muscles visibly relax, and he sinks into his chair — that you take it as motivation to tease him.
Swirling your tongue around his tip, you take it slow. Kitten lick after kitten lick until he has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Wordlessly, he adjusts his hips gently. “Mmf— big.” You mumble around his fat cock, garnering a lewd, long moan from Hongjoong as he watches you slobber over him with the eagerness of someone who’s been meeting nothing but empty sheets the past few days. Eyes closed, gargling noises filled your ears, his moans rumbled through his body.
“Takin’ me so well,” Hongjoong all but whispers, threading his fingers through your hair tenderly before settling near your nape, lifting his hips a bit not to get more of your mouth but to remove the cushion from underneath him. “Here, baby.”
You come off with a pop, eyes fluttering open so stunningly it makes his dick twitch. The hand in your hair untangles itself to tilt your face up — dazed, cockdrunk, drooling — before prying your jaw open with two fingers. They’re warm against your tongue, so lost in pleasure that you don’t wait to suck on his fingers too.
“Aht, aht, no. Take a breather, angel.”
You’re so floaty you don’t register what he wants you to do, so you shake your head with a pout. “Don’t wanna.”
Hongjoong simply breathes through his nose, nodding to the cushion he’s dumped to the floor and your mind clears up a little and your body readjusts to recognise the pain blooming in your knees.
There’s a skip in your heart, seeing how attentive your boyfriend could be even in the midst of his pleasure that you lace your fingers with his, using your other hand to guide the cushion to your knees.
“Thanks, Joong.” You smile, squeezing his hand in yours and he reciprocates with an equally lovesick one. “Now…”
With extra comfort for your knees and the smell of his body wash infiltrating your senses, your desperation spills over when you latch onto him again, free hand grasping at his thighs and digging.
It’s all the leverage you need as you start to bob your head, flattening your tongue while you look up at him. He’s not super big, but he’s thick, stretching your mouth as his tip threatens to hit the back of your mouth. Saliva escapes either way, dripping out the sides of your mouth as you sputter and whine around him.
“Love your cock,” You mumble incessantly into skin, coming up ever so often to give attention to his tip — suckling, tonguing at the slit, swirling all over the angry red head that he’s grunting under his breath. The soft track playing on in the background mixes with your pretty sounds, and provides a sweet harmony beside his soft, melodic breaths, willing himself not to cum so quickly.
You were fucking intoxicated on him and he was enamoured with you. “Wanna suck you dry, until you’re cumming all over my face, Daddy.”
Hongjoong knows what the name does to him. You both don’t enforce it often in the bedroom, but ever since you’ve gasped out the name out of the blue — with warm cheeks and an embarrassed mewl that has your boyfriend cooing — he doesn’t mind indulging you any time you call out to him.
“Needy baby, hm?” He’s slurring his words, eyes locked onto the way you pull him closer, setting a comfortable pace with your mouth going up and down. Your hand leaves his body, stroking the parts of him you can’t reach, filling the room with slick noises and a deep, guttural groan from the other.
You nod with his dick still in you, speech muffled. “Yeah, w—wanna help you.”
“Aw,” Hongjoong leans forward, causing his shaft to slip out of your mouth with strings of saliva connecting you to him. The sight sends him reeling — his pretty darling with hooded lids and parted lips, and you’re moaning softly at the way his heavy cock rests on your face. “My dirty girl.”
There’s a drawl to his voice as he says it, breaking your interlocked hands to blindly reach for his phone before resting back in the chair.
Before swiping left for the camera, Hongjoong doesn’t hesitate to ask a ‘this okay?’ before you give him a verbal response (he emphasises that normally, anyway, and it drives you crazy).
The framing of you in his phone is even more obscene, spreading his hand over his cock to cover it and the bottom half of your face. A small whine escapes from your throat at the clicks of the camera, shy but still loving the attention he gives you, knowing those pictures are the sole motivation for him on tour.
“Open up, baby.” Pure lust, dripping from his words as he twitches at your pliancy, tongue lolling out while you receive his thumb into your warm mouth and breathe hard along his shaft at the filthiness of it all. “Good girl.”
With the sound of the red button being clicked, Hongjoong releases his hand on your face to grab onto his dick, slapping it briefly before nudging the tip past your lips. “Go on, darling girl.”
You can’t help but let out wanton moans, putting pressure around his cockhead. “Make Daddy feel good.”
You don’t wait a second longer, surrounding his cock with your warmth and finding a rhythm to bob your head at while spit bubbles past your lips, coating his length with a shiny sheen. The wetness only contributes to the addicting sensations, bringing the lewd sounds to an all time high with the way you slurp and suck him clean.
“Shit, fucking hell—” Hongjoong murmurs as he struggles to keep the phone steady, unable to keep away from you by the way he bundles a bit of hair in his hand, nails prodding into your scalp.
But you can’t care about the sting of your hair being pulled, nor the leg of the chair obstructing your way, when there’s a plethora of praises and whimpers from your lover from above you. “You’re a wonder, baby.”
That prompts you to release him, grinning from ear to ear before letting more spit spill past your lips, switching instead to giving all your attention to his tip while you pump the rest of him. “Oh—Oh my God.”
Hongjoong shifts in his seat, video turning shaky with how warm your hands felt. Not to mention, your eyes, just begging him for relief, release. You alternate between sucking and swirling your tongue, mouth prepared for his load.
“Gonna—” His head tilts back, shivers travelling throughout his body that make him light-headed. But he can’t take his eyes off of you long enough, relaxing his scrunched up expression to meet your intense gaze. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”
“Give it to me.” It’s garbled, but it comes from your gut, voice hoarse and mind focused on one thing only. Your hands increase their pressure while you stick out your tongue. Hongjoong’s zoned in onto your little whines on his screen, thighs flexing until you’re squeezing the base of his cock and he’s thrusting his hips in ecstasy.
The first spurt of his cum takes you by surprise, spilling both in your mouth and over your features — he’s no videographer, but the way the studio light hits your skin, illuminating the spark in your eyes and the shine of your sweat is criminally breathtaking.
Though, your surprise is overridden immediately by how much he cums, tip leaking white and staining your cheeks, tongue.
“See what you do to me?” Hongjoong laughs breathlessly, using the hand in your hair to crane your head upwards, gently. “Makin’ me cum until I lose my fucking mind.”
He’s quick to spread his load all over your face, admiring your dazed look and feeling his heart and dick jump again when you lean on his thigh, stroking him lazily with a bite to your lip.
“The only one to get me worked up and inspired like this, pretty girl.” Your cheeks warm at his tender but firm tone. “You.”
With a lean into his touch, you lick your lips clean with a smile. “Happy to help, Daddy.”
