Soobin swore he never saw a meal more enticing than you peacefully sleeping in his bed. Your face was serene, quite the opposite of his thoughts.
You’d given him permission. You’d even told him you wanted this. He knew that. He trusted you to know what you wanted. But, what if you hated it? What if you decided you never wanted to do it again?
Because Soobin was pretty sure he’s about to have a new addiction.
His hand traced your form, feather-light. You let out a soft breath, the quietest of hums, just as his hand traced over your hip.
“Fuck,” he whispered, the uncertainty fading away. He pushed the bedsheets down, revealing the rest of your sleeping body. Your thin nightgown clung to you, and Soobin could hardly believe you were real. It was a thought he had at least twice a week.
But right now he had a problem. You were curled up on your side, and while cute, it prevented him access to what he wanted. He huffed a breath of air that made his bangs flip up briefly. This simply wouldn’t do.
Carefully, he pushed against your hip, giving you enough pressure to adjust your body onto your back without waking you up. He held his breath the entire time, freezing only once when you mumbled something in your sleep. But your eyes remained closed, your breathing even.
Finally getting you into a better position, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek. Then another on your jaw. And still another on your shoulder blade where your nightgown had slipped down a little.
He could feel himself growing hard, fighting his hands to remain gentle. He pushed your nightgown up, up your legs. His mouth went dry. You weren’t wearing underwear. You truly wanted this as much as he did.
With this last confirmation, Soobin finally let go. He laid down on his stomach, not even bothering to remove his own pajamas. No, he had more important things to do.
He slipped his hands under your thighs, squeezing the flesh ever-so-slightly out of habit. He pressed kisses up your inner thigh until he reached his prize.
At the first taste of you, Soobin felt his mind go blank. He licked and sucked like a man possessed, determined now to get you close before you could even wake up and realize what was happening.
A groan above him alerted him to your waking, so he doubled down on his efforts, slipping a finger inside of you as well. Soobin couldn’t help the grin when you gasped lightly.
“Oh fuck…” you whispered, voice hoarse with sleep. Your hips bucked when Soobin added a second finger, curling them both inside of you. He never let up on your clit, loving the whimpers and gasps falling from your lips.
“Soobin, I’m- fuck- I’m gonna…” you gasped, legs shaking in his arms.
Soobin added a third finger, fucking into you with renewed vigor, mouth never once leaving you. You came with a cry, gushing onto his mouth. He eagerly lapped you up until you were shaking harder with overstimulation.
He was tempted to keep going, but you had just woken up. He didn’t want to overwhelm you too soon. So he pushed back, crawling up over you to kiss you deeply. You grabbed onto his arms as you leaned into the kiss.
When you broke apart, Soobin was sure his smile was nearly feral. Your cheeks were flushed, your eyes hazy. “G’morning, little flower,” he said.
“No kidding,” you murmured. “That was… Wow.”
Soobin’s smile grew impossibly wider. “Good. Because I’m not done yet.”
Your eyes widened as Soobin dipped back down again. No, Soobin didn’t intend to let you leave the bed today. Not if he could help it.
Hello, dear! You've been visited by the random character question fairy! :D ~☆
If your character had to choose a new name for themself, what would they pick and why? (or, if they already did choose their own name, why did they pick the name they did?)
Wistaer: This isn’t the first name he’s had, nor will it be the last. He changes names and identities like one would change their smallclothes, never sitting with one for too long. In the life he leads, staying himself for too long is just another way to end up caught and thrown into the dungeons, or worse: people getting to know the real him.
The name Wistaer means little to him, just another common half-elf name to blend into the masses. He doesn’t want to attach meaning to something he’ll eventually have to leave behind once again.
I simply love what you're doing here! I don't think I've felt as good when people find my poetry relatable. You always reblog most of my poems, and I feel kind of better that my voice is being heard. Keep up the good work! ❤
Thank you so much!! We really appreciate that. Thank you for your kind message and for supporting us, it means the world. - Admin Rae
Warnings: negative self-talk, petnames (mostly "princess" lol), fingering, unprotected sex; please note reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina
A/N: this is purely self-serving I was having a DAY
It’s finally Friday, you continued to chant in your head. Microsoft Outlook swam in your vision as you did your best to respond to all the emails sent last minute by people who make twice as much as you do. Yet another email full of typos demanding something of you thirty minutes before you clock out. Absolutely not.
Setting your Teams status to “Busy,” you opted to twirl around in your office chair instead. Much more entertaining than answering bossy emails. Would it bite you in the ass on Monday? Sure. Did you care? Not right now.
Sighing deeply, you peered at your reflection in the mirror across the hall. Your hair was a mess, sticking up in random directions as you hadn’t had the energy to style it this morning. Working from home had some advantages, but the way you neglected to care for your appearance was not one of them.
Feeling a little gross suddenly, you picked at a cat hair stuck to your sweatpants. When was the last time you wore something that made you feel pretty? Sure, there was nothing wrong with the hoodie and sweatpants you normally opted for. They kept you warm and cozy as you slaved away to capitalism.
But every once in a while you missed dressing up. You missed styling your hair, adding little sparkly accessories to it just because. You missed wearing clothes that didn’t make you feel like a lazy slob.
With a sigh, you glanced back at the computer screen as another email came in.
“What’s the sigh for, love?” a familiar voice brought a small smile to your face.
Jihoon stood in the doorway, dressed in a simple pair of sweats and a t-shirt that you knew he chose for the way it hugged his torso, showing off all the hard work he’d put in at the gym lately.
“Nothing really,” you sighed, not wanting to bother him. He’d been holed up in his studio a lot lately, working tirelessly on Seventeen’s next album. To see him home so early was a rare treat, you didn’t want to ruin it.
Jihoon raised an eyebrow at you, clearly unconvinced. He began walking across the room towards you, and suddenly you became hyper-aware of your appearance once again. Anxiously, you began picking more cat hair off your sweatpants, refusing to look Jihoon in the eye. How could you when he looked like a god and you felt like a pig who’d just rolled in mud?
Jihoon hummed thoughtfully when he reached you. He put his hand under your chin, lifting your head gently to look him in the eye. Ever-observant, you could tell he knew what was wrong. Shame washed over you, but Jihoon just smiled gently. “Sign out of work,” he stated.
“Now? But it’s not my time yet,” you argued, worried that you’d be caught.
“Don’t care. They can let you go a little early on a Friday. I want you all to myself tonight,” he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You melted into his touch, already nodding and moving to shut down your work computer. They wouldn’t miss you. Probably.
“Good girl,” Jihoon cooed, still messing with your hair. “Now, I want you to go pamper yourself. Take a long bath, use the nice soap and one of those fancy bath bombs I got you for Christmas. Doll yourself up. I know you’ve been missing it. I want to see my little princess feeling as beautiful as she looks.”
At the nickname, you felt a rush of heat to your cheeks and your stomach. Blinking nervously, you looked up at him. “But what should I wear?”
He answered almost instantly. “That red dress I bought you. I’ve been wanting to see you in it for a while now.”
Your eyes widened. The dress in question was one Jihoon had bought you a few months ago after seeing it at a fashion show he attended. He refused to tell you the price, insisting that no price was too steep for his princess. But still, you were terrified to wear the thing. What if you tripped and the hem tore? What if you spilled something on the front and it stained? No, it was better off safe and sound in the back of your closet.
“But-” you tried to say.
Jihoon frowned. “Are you trying to argue with me?”
You gulped. “No, sir.”
“Good. Now go. I’ll order our favorite for dinner,” he said, bending down to give your cheek a gentle kiss.
“We’re not going out?” you asked, bewildered. Why did he want you to wear the dress then?
Jihoon smiled and shook his head, his long, dark hair flopping almost cutely as he did so. “I told you; I want you to myself tonight.”
And with that he ushered you into the bathroom, even helping you pick out a bath bomb. Then he shut the door behind him and left you to decide how best to pamper yourself. At first you just stood there, unsure of what to do. How do you even pamper yourself? When was the last time you had a self-care day?
Slowly, your brain kicked into gear. You turned the faucets on to nice and hot. When the tub was filled, you plopped the bath bomb in and spent a couple minutes watching the colors spread. Jihoon made sure all of the bath bombs he got you were purple - your favorite color. This one was a deep plum and smelled floral. It was lovely.
You stripped out of your clothes, grabbed your shaving kit, and eased yourself down into the hot water. This time your sigh was one of relief as the heat eased your stiff muscles. You hadn’t realized how tense you were.
You let yourself soak for a while, just vegetating and allowing yourself to empty your thoughts. You should’ve brought a book and a glass of wine with you. Oh well, next time. And you made the promise to yourself that there will definitely be a next time.
Eventually, you felt the water begin to grow lukewarm and you decided to shave your legs and bathe. It felt like you were washing away the stress of the week. Every mistake you made and every scolding you got from higher-ups just fading into the background.
After you were clean and your hair was washed, you wrapped yourself in the fluffiest towel you owned and made the (chilly) trek to your bedroom. There you stared, still clad in only towel, at the beautiful red dress you laid out on your bed. It truly was gorgeous. The deep red, Jihoon’s favorite color, was complimented by silver embellishments. The swirly designs graced the flowy skirt, and the sleeves also flowed gracefully.
Taking a deep breath, you eased yourself carefully into the dress, pleased to find it fit perfectly. Of course Jihoon had it tailored to you. He knew every inch of your body by heart.
Deciding that if you’re going to wear this dress, you might as well go all out. You pulled out your slightly dusty makeup bag and pulled out your favorite eyeshadow palette along with the rest of your makeup. You took your time dolling your face up, feeling the icky feeling from earlier fading from your mind.
Finally satisfied with your look, you floofed you hair to give it some volume, allowing the curls to do their thing as they air dried. Lastly you picked out some jewelry, also gifted to you by Jihoon, and slipped on a pair of sparkly silver heels.
Nervously you peeked out of your bedroom. Then you ambled down the hall to the living room where Jihoon was waiting, the TV playing some variety show quietly in the background as he scrolled on his phone.
Hearing the click clack of your heels, he looked up and you swear you watched his pupils dilate.
“Holy shit,” he said, standing up. He’d changed too, now sporting a black button down with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black slacks. “That dress is fucking perfect on you, princess,” he all but growled. He took your hand and gave you a twirl, admiring the way your cheeks flushed with his compliment.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, shy. “It’s really a beautiful dress. I don’t think I could ever make it up to you for giving it to me.”
“Don’t give me that,” he said, gently flicking your forehead. “It’s more than enough reward to just see you in this, my gorgeous girl.”
Your brain was swirling with the compliments. Jihoon wasn’t often outspoken about how much he adored you, opting usually for acts of service and gifts and small gestures to make sure you felt loved. But sometimes, when you were feeling down, he allowed his walls to come down and finally tell you what he always felt.
The two of you ate dinner, just some simple takeout from your favorite Korean restaurant nearby, and chatted. You were very careful not to spill any sauce on your dress.
After dinner, Jihoon cleaned up the table, refusing to allow you to lift a finger. “Princesses don’t clean,” he chastised.
You grumbled, “Princes don’t either…”
Jihoon laughed at your obstinance and couldn’t help planting another kiss on your cheek. “Cute.”
After he cleaned up, Jihoon began fiddling with his phone and some speakers he’d bought. You watched him in confusion until a waltz came on. Jihoon walked over to you, bowed, and held out his hand.
You shyly took it and allowed him to pull you up, wrapping an arm around your waist. Then, as if he’d practiced the waltz for years, he began to teach you the steps.
The two of you danced slowly around the living room, careful to not bump into the table. Slowly you grew more confident in your dancing and allowed yourself to relax into the steps. Jihoon smiled at you and pulled you a bit closer. Your chest bumped against his, and you could’ve sworn you heard a sharp intake of breath from him.
Before you could ask what’s wrong, Jihoon captured your lips in a heated kiss, not once breaking step. When you broke apart, you stared up at him, lips parted in surprise. Jihoon felt a tightening in his pants at the innocent look on your face. “As much as I love seeing you in this dress, I can’t fucking wait to take it off you,” he said.
Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your core. Jihoon pulled you closer, allowing you to feel the growing tent in his pants. But still, the song wasn’t done, so he continued to twirl you around. You were growing impatient and tried nipping at his bottom lip to let him know.
“Uh uh,” he said, “patience little princess. The song will be over soon. For now, let me get one last look at you in the dress I picked out for you.”
And with a twirl, Jihoon’s eyes raked up and down your body, taking note of the way the bodice of the dress hugged your breasts. He loved the way the dress poofed out, teasing him by hiding your legs from him.
When the song ended, it was like something snapped inside him. Jihoon pushed you backwards until you landed with a soft “oof” on the couch. He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head with one hand, the other hand holding the side of your face as he kissed you passionately. His knee found your clothed core, hiking up your skirts that fell around your thighs.
“So fucking pretty for me,” he whispered in your ear. “Getting all dolled up just for me to ruin you. But you like that, don’t you little girl? You like it when your prince corrupts you.”
Flushing, you nodded, unable to deny him. You did love dressing up for him. You did love when he absolutely ruined you. You loved every bit about him, the way he kissed you, the way he comforted you when you were upset, the way he quietly but firmly took care of you just as much as you cared for him.
Jihoon’s hand trailed its way from your face to your neck to your chest. His lips followed suit and you gasped when he bit down on the top of your breast, tongue gently soothing the skin immediately after.
He dropped your hands to start fumbling with the buttons in the back of your dress, hands slipping a little in his eagerness. He huffed. “This is taking too long.” Then he shocked you by ripping the back of the dress open. You felt several buttons pop off and yelped.
“Jihoon!”
“I’ll have it fixed later, now come here,” he responded before latching onto your breast.
You yelped again, which turned into a breathy moan as he ran his tongue over your nipple. His other hand made its way down to your thigh to squeeze it.
Jihoon’s focus shifted to your thighs and he knelt down to pepper kisses all up your thigh, leaving a hickey or two as well. You wiggled as his lithe fingers found your clothed core.
“Mmm, my princess is so wet for me already,” he hummed. He bunched the dress’s skirts up higher, then took his time pulling the matching red panties down.
Jihoon licked his lips at the sight of your soaking wet core, his dick straining painfully in his pants. You whimpered and reached out for him. Tilting his head, he stood up and leaned in close to you.
Happily, you pulled him close and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. You felt yourself grow wetter at the feeling of his hard muscles beneath your hands. Jihoon watched your face as you concentrated on not fumbling on the buttons. Your breasts spilled out of the torn dress, and your thighs were practically begging him to come kiss them again. Your hair was already disheveled, and he found you the most beautiful person in the world.
Finally, his shirt was off and flung to the floor. Greedily, you pulled him in for more kisses, and Jihoon was happy to oblige. While you were distracted, his hand made its way under your skirts. You let out a gasp as he inserted a finger and began pumping, his thumb circling your clit.
Jihoon swallowed your breathy gasps greedily, hitting your g-spot expertly with every thrust of his finger. You whimpered when he inserted a second finger, and Jihoon groaned at the way your pussy practically swallowed his fingers.
“You’re so tight, pretty girl,” he groaned, yet despite his words he inserted a third finger, making you cry out.
His pumping didn’t slow down, even as your gasps grew higher in pitch. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening already, the stress from the week having left you wound up.
Between Jihoon’s fingers and his thumb circling your clit, it wasn’t long before you were crying out his name in pleasure, your thighs trembling as you rode out your high.
Jihoon waited until you were back down to earth before removing his fingers and licking your release off them. You watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you tried to catch your breath.
Jihoon began unbuttoning his pants, pulling them and his boxers down in one go. His dick sprang free, red and dripping with precum. You groaned, mouth watering, but Jihoon pushed you back on the couch.
“Not tonight, princess. Tonight I spoil you, just as you deserve,” he cooed.
You blinked up at him, pouting. “But-”
He put a finger to your lips, shushing you. “Don’t argue, little girl. Don’t worry, I’m being greedy too. I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”
At the dirty talk, you closed your mouth, no longer even remotely tempted to argue with him.
“Good girl,” Jihoon said before entering you with a groan.
You moaned helplessly at the way he filled you up. He waited a moment before his patience ran out, and he began to move.
Jihoon fucked you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. Maybe you were in his mind, you could never know. But the way he buried himself in you and the way he moaned your name gave you little doubt of his affection. He knew your body better than you did, hitting that spot that made you see stars every single time.
“Jihoon- ah! I’m- I’m gonna-” you tried to speak but the pleasure was overtaking you. Your mind just chanted his name over and over, and all you saw was his body over yours, his cock entering you with every thrust.
“Cum for me, princess. Let me hear your pretty moans,” Jihoon said, increasing his speed as he felt himself racing towards his finish.
You came hard, throwing your head back in a silent scream as your entire body trembled in Jihoon’s grasp. Feeling your cunt convulse around him, Jihoon’s pace grew erratic until he too came with a loud moan, spilling into you. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as he came down from his own high.
After a moment of heavy breathing, Jihoon moved off of you, pulling out of you. He watched as his cum leaked out of you. Frowning, he pushed it back into you, making sure not a single drop was wasted.
You flushed at the feeling, so full and satisfied. You gave Jihoon a dopey smile that he happily returned. “Always so good for me, pretty girl,” he crooned. “Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
He scooped you up, your dress still halfway on your body, and carried you to the bathroom. He took the dress the rest of the way off you and turned on the faucets of the tub again, wetting a washcloth to clean you.
