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6ixfics · 5 years ago

Text

(not) a bad idea / woong

rated M for smut word count: 1800

*college!au/fratboy!woong (if only you knew how many times i had to take a break because the mere thought of it was practically making me lose my shit. bonus point is him being BLONDE like breathe blonde... enjoy!)

you don’t think anything bad would happen. at least, not while sitting in a circle playing extreme truth or dare with a bunch of people from your major and the frat boys who decide to join in the heat of the moment.

but your guesses are proven wrong when you spot jeon woong take a seat directly opposite you, raking a hand through his tousled blonde hair, letting out a small chuckle as he bumps shoulders with another guy beside him. “not too late, am i?” he asks, downing a shot and looking around. “i’ll go then. shoot.”

the game took a different twist — whenever there was a truth you would get whispered a question and you’d have to answer it out loud, like in burning bridges. everyone had understood this rule beforehand, so when woong finally looks back to the circle after choosing dare, all eyes are on him, anticipating a name.

“y/n, probably,” one end of his mouth curls up to form a smirk. he gets cheers and hollering, and then everyone is looking at you. “no, screw that rock paper scissors to know the question,” he brushes you off when you hold your hands out. “i just got asked who i’d take back to my dorm tonight if i had a choice.”

you only give him a small, sly smile, and then the circle is in a chaos again. for the rest of the game you don’t really pay attention to what’s happening, because you constantly find woong looking at you — dark eyes scanning you up and down. when you felt a little bold you play along with it, raising an eyebrow at him, only to get a knowing smirk in return. the tension in the air was killing you, and you could tell he wanted to get out of the circle just as much you did.

when it’s your turn to play, it’s bad luck on you, immediately obliged to choose a dare because two people before you chose to answer truths. not knowing where the braveness came from, you accept the outcome with no hesitation.

“since you both have been giving each other looks since the first truth, i dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with woong,” and everyone in that circle gasps.

you meet woong’s glinting eyes, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “seven minutes? just make it unlimited, dude. he can’t do anything with seven minutes,” someone in the circle retorts, and people are agreeing. woong only gets up and stands before you, offering his hand.

“come on, seven minutes or not, i don’t want to waste any more time here,” he tells you, and you take his hand, up on your feet. as you walk away from the circle, all you hear are college students whistling and clapping behind you. everything is a blur as he drags you behind him, hand tightly holding onto yours. he takes you upstairs, and into a room tucked away at the end of the corridor.

as soon as you hear the door lock, your back is pinned against the wall and he’s merely inches away from you, one hand placed beside your head. he waits for a moment, gazing right at you, before his eyes land on your lips, covering them with his and roughly kissing you.

you’re quick to get rid of the denim jacket loosely covering his frame, and your dress clinging onto your body is easily peeled off right after. lips still locked, he guides you to the queen-sized bed, letting you fall on it and hovering over you. “god, i’d do so many things to you,” he admits as his mouth finds your collarbone, his hot mouth ghosting around the area. “but if someone’s gonna barge in on us after the seven minutes end…”

you fist a handful of his t-shirt, bringing him back up to kiss him. when you pull away, you graze your thumb on his bottom lip, your finger then trailing down to trace his jaw and his throat, hooking it on the thin chain hanging around his neck.. “ah, to hell with the seven minutes,” you bat your lashes. “just fuck me.”

in no time, your lingerie is discarded, and you’re bare naked sitting in front of him. woong pushes you until your back hits the pillows, holding your wrists down as he trails kisses down your torso, little bite marks decorating your hips and your inner thighs.

you squirm and try to slither out of his grip, but he’s back to kissing you, pinning your hands on the headboard. “come on, buttercup, be a good one for me,” he mumbles against your lips, one hand reaching down to rub at your core. you let out a sigh and whimper as you meet his eyes again, your lips parting when he quickly picks up the pace. “don’t touch yourself or i’ll keep you like this for as long as i want.”

you whine and purse your mouth into a tight line, feeling his digits press into you as he moves down. you’re wet and he’s amused, evident in the way he looks up at you and lets out a rather satisfied chuckle, his thumb drawing circles at your bud. woong pulls his bottom lip into his mouth when you jerk, knowing he’s found your spot, judging from the way you let out a moan and your eyes shut tight. he continues hitting it, until you’re a wailing mess, hands balled up into fists to control yourself from stimulating yourself further.

but then he stops, looks at you, presses a kiss to your bud. “fuck yourself on my fingers until you cum–” it makes your toes curl, “–and maybe tell the whole frat house who’s making you feel so good while you’re at it, baby.”

and you obey, taking in every word he says, sitting up and positioning yourself until it’s easy enough for you to grind against and ride your orgasm on his fingers. supporting yourself on your hands behind you, you start moving your hips. you feel woong’s eyes burning your skin, watching your every move, relishing the way your walls clench around his fingers.

your back arches, hands gripping the sheets, his name softly tumbling out of your mouth as your pace starts to get irregular. “ah, ah– woong, woong, please–” you throw your head back, high whines and quiet whimpers eliciting from your lips. “gonna cum, please, your fingers feel so good,” breathlessly, you cum on his fingers, your hands fumbling to find his.

when you open your eyes, you look right into his as you suck on his fingers, causing him to hiss and grip your hip with his free hand, bruising it slightly. “fuck,” he curses, pulling his fingers out and kissing you, “lay back.”

you don’t argue, watching as he pulls the t-shirt above his head and unzip his jeans, revealing the tent in his boxers. when he pulls that off as well, you have to control yourself when you see him vulgarly spit on his palm and stroke himself, giving his cock a few quick pumps.

woong reaches over to the drawer to pull out a condom (and you don’t even question it, considering it’s a frat house and god knows how many people have had a one night stand in this same room), ripping it with his teeth and rolling it on. he lines himself up with your entrance, connecting your lips together again as he pushes in.

“fuck, y/n,” his lips press kisses on your bare shoulder, his hands tightly gripping your waist as he thrusts into you. you cross your arms around his neck, forearms resting on his shoulders, abrupt gasps coming from you. woong goes faster, causing you to dig your nails into his back, letting out a clear and high sound halfway between a moan and a whimper.

he makes you see stars, too immersed in the way he makes your stomach coil and twist into tight knots, your head practically spinning in pleasure. he kisses you in desperation, moaning into your mouth, hands finding yours, lips marking you up like a holy grail.

“god, fuck, you’re so good for me,” he praises, and it makes you groan, taking it in like the good, obedient one you are, letting him bask in the noises that leave your lips. “so good, so good for me, baby,” his hand comes out again to touch you, overstimulating you and riling you up even more.

you cry out and cling onto him, and it must tell him that you’re close to your climax, because he thrusts into you faster than before, causing you to shriek and let out a long moan. you’re shaking and your whole body seizes, your chest heaving as you catch your breath, your grip on his shoulders loosening.

woong pulls out when he cums, letting out a long exhale, collapsing above you. he lazily peppers your skin with soft kisses, his hands gently stroking and squeezing your sides. you tangle your fingers in his hair, too worn out to move, enjoying the attention while it lasts.

“are you going back to the dorm tonight?” you ask him when he’s up on his feet to dispose the condom and clean himself up, stepping back into his boxers. he places your bra and panties on the bed, and you slip them on almost immediately, suddenly getting a little shy. he climbs back into bed, anyway.

“the dorm? just stay here with me till morning,” he pulls you back until your back is pressed against his chest. “what, do you want to leave that bad? i thought this was more than a one night stand,” he snickers.

you turn to face him, blinking at him. “i thought all you did were one night stands, frat boy,” you frown, “frat boy.”

woong tuts. “frat boys are humans who have feelings too!” he rolls his eyes, pulling you closer. “are you going back to your dorm tonight, then?”

“no, ‘course not,” you tell him, your eyes already drooping. “not everyday a frat boy tells me to stay with him till morning, is it?”

he kisses you square on the lips. “okay, well,” he pauses. “i’m going to be the only frat boy who tells you to stay with him till morning–” he breathes, “–because no one else is going to dare to try to get you after this.”

you blow a raspberry. “we fucked once and you’re this possessive,” you retort. “next thing i know, you’re going to pretend this never happened when i see you at the next frat party.

“who said?” he opens one eye to look at you. “i’ll have you know that i’ll go the next party with you, sweetheart.”

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