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fanaticsnail · 8 months ago

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Dreaming of You

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 320+, 600+, 940+, 1,200+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Law, Penguin, Shachi.

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader, masturbation, slight yandere: law-penguin-shachi, dub con (masturbating while you're unaware and in the same room, using your image to masturbate to), all individual 'x reader', headcanons, you can sense my favouritism and bias, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Had to get this out, it was driving me nuts. Brought to you by my obsession with the heart-pirates lately. Please read the warnings. Kid-Pirate Version. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff

Cries of bliss fell from your throat as you allowed the unbridled lust overtake your body. You writhed, overcome with grinding and circling your hips to use his thick cock to chase your high, clenching around him tightly to tether yourself to him. Looking up at your face, witnessing its contortion in pleasure was all it needed for him to immediately bark out a string of curses, spilling his hot cum deep within your core.

The contractions of your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock prompted him to cry your name and chase his high with more intentional bucks and thrusts. You whine his name, gripping onto his shoulders while you allow him to use your body for his pleasure. Your own high propelled his to linger longer, his hot spurts splashing up within you as he molded your body to the shape of his throbbing cock.

“I-I’m cumming,” he whispered, his brows furrowing as the tension in his stomach snapped, “Oh, I’m f-fucking cumming.” The soft, smoky image of your body crying atop him scorched into his memories. He couldn’t get enough, his eyes glazing over as he witnessed you take his entire load deep within you. The whisper of his name on your tongue, the soft smile on your lips, and body glistening in the soft glow of lustful sweat had never had him so transfixed on a single moment before.

His body suddenly jolted awake, the images of you fading away from his mind as he immediately sat upright in his dimly lit bedroom. Lips parting, he threw back the sheets and growled at himself as he looked to his lower abdomen. The white, translucent cum coated his still quivering and throbbing cock: the sticky fluid pooling over his stomach, down his shaft and dampening the sheets beneath him. He groans, wiping his face and pinching his brow before falling back and wallowing in his own embarrassment.

“Fuck.”

Trafalgar Law

He snuck another glance down at his body, clicking his tongue to reprimand himself.

“What a fucking mess,” he growled, his lips curling up and frown furrowing in the middle of his forehead. He hastily reached for his bedside tissue box, swiping a square napkins from the slot and began violently wiping at his skin to rid itself of the cum spent below him.

He was so in control of himself, every aspect of his life being refined down to a fine art. His schedule never differed, he even jotted in when he had the opportunity to masturbate to rid himself of his pent-up stress. He had even stepped out of that routine and managed to relieve himself before falling asleep last night.

So why did this happen?

Overcome with complete embarrassment and shame, he hastily stood up and began peeling off his stained bedsheets and folded them into his laundry basket. Reaching for his linen closet, he growled under his breath while he redressed his bed with his fitted sheet, top sheet, and new cover for his plush duvet.

“The fuck is wrong with me?” he growled at himself, looking down at his cock while he snapped the buttons in place to contain the duvet. Lying back within the sheets, he growled at himself, rolled over onto his side and folded his arms over his chest.

“Law, I-I'm so close,” your fictional and illusionary voice rang in his ears, prompting him to clamp his pillow around his head to muffle the thoughts.

“Shut up,” he scolded his mind, grimacing as he felt a rush of blood pool in his cock. He attempted to ignore it, but the images of you wrapped around his cock prompted his knob to begin twitching at the thoughts.

“Just like that,” your voice called to him, face beginning to contort in pleasure as your illusionary body contracted around him in his mind, “Fuck, don't stop. Please don't stop.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” he barked, immediately peeling the pillow away from his head and throwing it on the mattress. He folded it in half, immediately slotting his cock between the silken material.

He ground his hips down into the pillow with his left hand holding the stuffed material down firmly atop his throbbing cock, his right gripping the headboard of his bed. His cock was so achingly hard, thick veins began throbbing with desire as his mind conjured what you looked like beneath him.

Your legs would wrap around his hips, your lips crying out his name as he hit that spot deep within you that had you scream for him. He imagined pressing down on your stomach, feeling how deep he was within your abdomen while his thumb stimulated your clit.

As he imagined you reach your high, he manically drove his cock harder within the plush pillow: the satin shroud feeling slippery against his steely cock. He pictured you sobbing as you came undone beneath him, your eyes glistening as he had you reach your peak.

He gently cried your name, sobbing as his hips staggered in an unsyncopated rhythm. His voice caught in his throat as he let out a final lengthy groan. Ribbons of his release coated his pillowcase, his forehead thumping against the wall beyond the bedframe as he shot the last spurt of cum into the material.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he mourned his sanity, moving away from his prior position and opening up the folded pillow. He grimaced at the mess, berating himself for not only making another mess he had to clean up, but angry at the fact he used the thought of his crewmate to seek out his own pleasure.

“Fuck.”

Penguin

After quickly snapping up from his sleeping position and locating his shirt from beneath his bedside table, he wiped at his cock and stomach with it to rid it of his sticky cum. He rolled onto his side, hastily scrunching his eyes shut and pouting as he tried to fall back asleep.

His thoughts were swimming with the image of you in the thralls of bliss, riding his cock as you used his body to coast through the waves of passion. He could barely halt his roaming hands snaking down his abdomen and clench around his already hardening cock.

Praying that Shachi was still sleeping in the twin bunk beside him in their shared crew-quarters, he pricked his ears up and listened for the steady rise and fall of soft snoring in his ears. Once he deemed Shachi was sleeping deeply enough, he clapped his left hand over his lips and used his right to piston his cock within his fist.

If he was forced to cum within his dreams at the thought of you, he would intend on using that image to cum of his own volition. The way you bounced on top of him, flipping to wrythe beneath him, the soft slaps of hips meeting, the ripples of your ass as he bucked in from behind you; all of these images had him whimpering into his palm while he fucked his hand to reach his high.

He whispered your name, his eyes pricking at the corners as he spilled himself into the same shirt he used to clean himself up with moments prior. He was immediately overcome with disgust at himself. He had violated the image of you as his crewmate and turned you into his own muse to reach his orgasm.

Throughout the entirety of his shift with Shachi, his pout never left his face. His brows were furrowed, his eyes were shrouded even further beneath his hat, and his soft pout quivered into a deep frown the moment his eyes met with your body across the station. His red-haired crewmate beside him noticed his change in demeanor, giving him a soft nudge with his elbow.

“The hell is wrong with you, man?” Shachi arched his eyebrow, scowling with his upper lip curling into a soft snarl, “You’re actually doing work. And you’re so damn silent.” Penguin chose not to engage his workmate, picking up the pace with adjusting a panel on the Polar Tang.

“This got anything to do with...” Shachi leant forwards, whispering a soft moan of your name into Penguin’s ear, followed by a mocking tease of, “...I-I'm cumming. Oh, I’m f-fucking cumming.” Penguin’s face turned a deeper shade of red than Shachi’s hair, the blush flooding down his neck and igniting his skin beneath the burn.

Having a shared bunk with Shachi had its benefits: his closest friend being right there for him when the night terrors got too much for one another. He usually enjoyed having him there, but now that he was throwing his intrusive dream back in his face by mocking his sleep-talking, he was livid.

“Chill out, Penguin,” Shachi jokes, giving him a clap on the shoulder, “Happens to the best of us-.”

“-I’m not some prepubescent teenager who can’t control their fucking thoughts!” Penguin barked, prompting you to turn from your desk and look towards the two men. Penguin hushed his tone, whispering quietly to his friend. “I-I just-...” he snuck a look over at you, his breath hitching as he noticed your stare.

You shot him a puzzled look, glancing at him up and down before returning to your work. Shachi shook his head, clapping over his shoulder to support him.

“You know,” Shachi whispered, “They probably won’t bite,” he nudged him, urging him a little closer to you, “Why don’t you go ask ‘em if they wanna make your dreams come true.” Penguin snapped his head over to Shachi, who had already begun sprinting away from an enraged Penguin.

“Get back here, asshole!” Penguin roared after him, his blush deepening within his cheeks. Shachi chortled, reaching around your body and shielding himself behind you.

“Oi, don't bring me into whatever this is!” you chastised him, attempting to break away from Shachi’s grip. Penguin attempted to reach behind your shoulders, just as Shachi pushed your body into Penguin's.

As your chests collided, the angle of Penguin’s head trying to reach Shachi had his lips knit immediately with yours. You squealed in surprise, humming against his lips as Penguin's own surprise gasped against your own.

You both remained equally surprised at the fact that neither of you pulled away. In fact, Shachi reached for your wrists and clamped them around Penguins neck before he quickly scuttled away, almost forcing you to give into your mutual craving for one another. You felt the rise in heat on Penguin's cheeks, the warm burn causing you to smile against his lips.

Humming gently, you angle your chin up to deepen the soft kiss. You cradled his cheeks, squeaking in delight as he wraps his arms around your back and hoists you up into his chest. You break away from his lips to gaze deeply into his blushing face.

“Sorry ‘bout this,” he murmurs before giving you a soft peck on the lips, “Can we hold this thought for a second so I can go kill him real quick?”

“By all means,” you giggled at him, watching as a mischievous grin drew over his lips. As he releases you and begins to turn away, you draw his attention back with a soft hand atop his cheek. You draw him in close, giving his unoccupied cheek a soft kiss.

“Good luck.”

Shachi

Growling, he immediately threw himself into his shared lavatory with his bunkmate, Penguin. Never had he been so thankful that Law put Penguin on night shift with Ikkaku tonight without him. He aggressively scrunched at some tissue paper, cleaning up his spend all over his red happy trail. He groaned as he fisted at his semi-firm cock, ensuring all of the cum was out of his shaft and firmly squelched into the tissue.

Looking over at his bedside analog clock, he groaned and flung his head back. The small arm of the clock was barely touching the four, the larger one slowly moving to flick onto the ten. He slung his pajama pants over his hips, the material hanging limply and exposing his chiseled adonis belt.

“Not even 4am, for fucks sake,” he shook his head, peeling back his sheets and throwing them into his laundry basket. Weighing up his options, he decided it was not worth attempting to fall back asleep after remaking his bed with fresh sheets, and instead chose to use his time to have a lengthy and uninterrupted shower. He might even indulge in taking a lengthy, relaxing bath afterwards.

Considering the time and crew rotation, he chose the bathroom furthest away from crew quarters to not disturb those remaining in blissful slumber. As soon as he entered the room, he heard a soft humming melody echoing within the tiled walls and joined with the flooding water from the tap filling the large spa.

He turned the corner just as you dropped the towel from your body and stepped within the large bath. His eyes roamed over your thighs, hips, ass, stomach, chest and shoulders until he met with your gaze.

“Oh!” you shrieked in shock, gawking at him as he arrived in nothing but his uniform pajama pants, “Sorry, Shachi. I hope I didn't wake you!” A soft blush rose to his cheeks, looking away from your form and walking over to the shower.

Bathing together was not something uncommon with the heart-pirates. All members of the crew would often indulge in dipping into an onsen together, sharing a ceramic cup or wooden box of sake and joking with one another. It was never anything other than platonic, purely getting joy from being warmed within the water as you shrouded uniformes and became of equal stations and standing.

But now that his mind chose to corrupt the image of you naked, he couldn't help but to turn away from you and ready himself for a very cold shower. Stripping himself from his pants, he placed them in a neat pile beside your clothes. He took off his hat and glasses, rubbing his hands through his hair and placed them on top of his pants.

“You didn't wake me,” he muttered with a straightened, tight-lipped smile, “Couldn't sleep, thought I'd start early. What about you?" He turned on the tap, wincing as the ice-like shards hit his skin.

"Pretty much the same, unfortunately," Shrugging, you gathered several items to scrub at your skin, "I'm on the early shift, too. Thought I'd have a bath." Washing your face first, you lathered the suds atop your cheeks and eyes before dipping yourself in the hot water.

You sighed, leaning back and submerging your hair to lather in foamy shampoo. Your eyes were closed as you arched your back to gather the appropriate angle to dip the crown of your head within the water. Shachi snuck a look at you from behind the tiled wall of the shower stall, immediately clamping his eyes shut as he took in the sight of your bare chest with peaked nipples dripping with opaque suds of soap. He hid his face behind the wall, his forehead resting on it as his cock sprung to life.

“Fuck,” he whispered, turning the cold tap on more to freeze his body out of the thoughts overcoming him. His cock refused to let up, immediately pooling with blood and twitching with anticipation.

“Shachi?” you called to him, brows knit with concern, “Shach, you okay? You hurt?” You attempted to peer around the ceramic wall, but ultimately decided to give him privacy and an opportunity to talk.

“‘M fine,” he grunted out, his right hand grasping his cock and attempting to choke the life from it, pleading with it to fall back to its usual, flaccid state, “Just got soap in my eye, s’all.” The lie was easy enough to believe, causing him to grimace at the fact he could so easily get away with this.

“Oh, I hate it when that happens!” you comment with a soft laugh, lathering up your scalp and groaning as you massaged your fingertips within the damp strands.

Shachi flinched beneath the icy water, his arousal now heightened as soon as he heard your groan. He clenched his teeth tightly shut, his hand moving of its own volition as he circled his thumb over his tip.

“Hey, Shachi?” you hummed in thought, dipping your hair into the water and removing the soap from the ribbons of soaked locks, “Ikkaku, Bepo and I were gonna go to the bar in-land after our shift ends tomorrow. Bepo was gonna ask Penguin if he wanted to come too.”

Shachi hummed in interest, his voice breaking a little in the middle as he listened to your statement. He couldn't help it, his hand began pistoning his shaft and strangling his knob with each crude thrust. He sucked in his bottom lip and clamped down harshly on the flesh.

“It's got that one cocktail I'm obsessed with there,” you added, gathering some conditioner and layering your hair within prayer-like hands, “Did you wanna come too?”

Shachi’s eyes went black with lust, hearing such a simple word as he worked at his cock behind the shroud of the tiled screen. His breath hitched as he felt his end reach its peak, precum beginning to pearl at his slit.

“Shachi?” you call to him, unaware that he was picking up the pace of his hand beating his cock to the sound of your voice, “Do you wanna come?”

Shachi whimpered, nearly reaching his high as his eyes rolled back to your innocent suggestion. He was right there, he just needed one more little push.

“Wh-What was that?” he tested, using the volume of the pelted water within the shower to mask your question from reaching him, “Can you speak up a little? Ask me again?”

“Shachi?” You asked him, your question so innocent, yet Shachi allowed his thoughts to run away with him the moment you asked your question, “Do you wanna come with me?”

“Y-Yes,” he whined, “I wanna come. Let me come with you. I wanna come so bad.” Shachi painted the wall of the shower with hot spurts of his sticky cum, his eyes rolling back as he chased his orgasm as silently as he could. Ropes of spattered cum wrote his sinful desires against the tiles, his toes curling and his hips lewdly bucking. After coming down from his high, he clicked his tongue to reprimand himself.

“Fuck, Shachi,” you giggled, “I've never heard you so enthusiastic about a cocktail before! You sure you wanna come with us?” Your teasing voice prompted Shachi to chuckle from behind the wall, his voice was breathy and filled with humour.

“I would love to come with you,” he panted, immediately wracked with guilt about using your voice and image to reach his climax for the second time today, “Just let me know when you're heading out, and I'll be ready.”

"Okay, great!" you giggled, rinsing the conditioner in the water and remaining blissfully ignorant to Shachi's orgasm erupting on the wall so close to you.

#one piece #x reader #trafalgar law #Trafalgar D Water-Law #shachi #penguin #penguin x reader #shachi x reader #law x reader #one piece smut #law smut #shachi smut #penguin smut

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diorkyeom · 1 year ago

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ending everything rn who allowed them to be the prettiest loveliest people on earth

#fucking . JOSHUA?????????#on seokmin's shoulder im gonna sob #THAT SHOUKD BE MY PLACE ACTUALLY #never getting over how good they look together tho bc josh is all soft loveliness and seok is all sharp loveliness #cotton soft lover and golden sunrays lover #seventeen #seoksoo #joshua #dokyeom #svt #bias tag ❣#kyeom ❣#svt dokyeom #svt joshua #svt seokmin #lee seokmin #photos

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suhsweet · 9 months ago

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whatever you want ⟡ kmg

wc: 2007 | pair: bf!mingyu x afab!reader | genre: smut (18+, minors go away), established relationship | tags: somnophilia, half-asleep mingyu, kinda sub!mingyu?, reader happily does all the work, unprotected piv, barely a hint of a size kink, mention of reader having longer hair, pet names: baby, angel

summary: when mingyu’s tired, but you’re needy, he lets you use him however you please

author's note: i didn't realise that i started this blog, and this little drabble on mingyu's birthday cause i forgot about it… what a wonderful coincidence lol. happy birthday to my first kpop bias, and my dream husband <3 please enjoy my first piece of writing on tumblr EVER

It must’ve been around three in the morning when you woke. A thin sliver of moonlight peaked through the windows of your shared bedroom with Mingyu. Beside you, your lover slept peacefully. His light breathing, evenly paced, reached your ears. His lashes fluttered lightly as he slept, and his hair was mussed from the tossing and turning he often does to get comfortable.

Your hand gently came up to cup his cheek— light enough to avoid disturbing him, but heavy enough to not tickle him. You ran your thumb over his cheek while your eyes travelled over his features. The mole on his nose, the sharp slope of it, to his jaw, to his soft lips.

You carefully snuggled closer to him, close enough to kiss said mole, and said lips. Being so close to him, with his breathing caressing your face suddenly had you feeling needy for him. He should be awake, kissing you back, and running his fingers through your hair as he slowly rolls you onto your back as he breathily groans your name, and brings his large hands down your body towards your—

Sleep was keeping him from you. And you, with your wild imagination, now feeling extra needy, couldn’t possibly wait until morning.

You and Mingyu, little freaks, had spoken about fantasies and kinks once you were well into your relationship. Somnophilia was one of his, and you knew he was happy to have you touch him while he was asleep. He said, and I quote, “That is the hottest thing I can ever imagine you doing to me.”

So, with the sheets pushed off of you, and you now upright, you bent down to kiss your boyfriend’s cheek while adjusting him onto his back. The mix of Mingyu’s bodywash and cologne clouded your senses and you found yourself draping a leg on either side of him. He was wearing his ridiculously hypnotizing grey sweatpants again, alongside his oversized white t-shirt that hid the toned body underneath.

For a few moments, your quiet breaths and whimpers filled the air. You felt a hand slide up to cup your ass, which was busy grinding on his cock. The friction of your core pressed against him was both easing and heightening your desire for him.

“Baby?” Mingyu’s words came out as a husky whisper.

You smiled softly, “Gyuu.”

You were a siren, Mingyu decided—a succubus. The way you had whispered one word— his name, with so much sensuality had him aching for you instantly. But a glance at the clock told him that he would have to be up in less than four hours for work. He wasn’t in the right mind to please you; he hadn’t been awake for long enough.

Mingyu’s eyes closed once more, both from pleasure and sleep. You began kissing his neck again, then slowly trailed them up towards his sharp jaw, to his smooth cheek, to reach those lips… A throaty groan came out of him, and he lazily reciprocated your kisses. His hand came to cup your cheek and he slowly pulled away. His words came out slurred. “Gotta get up for work in a few hours.”

You rose and planted your hand on his chest, you hadn’t stopped grinding against him. You added more pressure on the point where your bodies met. Mingyu watched you helplessly, groaning with pleasure.

You smiled sweetly, a gleam in your eye that had Mingyu’s cock twitching. “I’ll be quick. I need you.”

“‘M too tired, baby.”

That was a no, and you immediately stopped. The fog in your mind cleared slightly, and you realized how selfish you were to put your lust over his rest. Thank God for the night’s shadows that veiled your flushed face. You smiled, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you kissed his cheek gently. “I was-”

His hand was on the back of your head, stopping you from pulling away. Mingyu’s head turned to meet your lips once more. “I didn’t mean that you should stop. You’ll need to do all the work.”

“Are you sure?”

With his eyes on you, you recognized the lust hidden behind the sleep in his eyes. They were still half-lidded and would remain that way while you smiled at each other. He looked so dopey that you couldn’t hide your giggle. You had your answer.

He smiled at the sound and sleepily kissed your jaw. “Do whatever you want with me, baby. I’m all yours.”

Giddy, and buzzing from the idea of using Mingyu like a toy, you resumed kissing his neck and reached your hands under his shirt to feel his warm skin. His eyes, still half open, watched as you lowered yourself to the foot of your bed to face his arousal. You palmed it through the fabric of his pants, eyeing his reaction. He smiled softly, encouraging you.

Pushing down his sweatpants and boxers, his erection rose to greet you. You kept your gaze on him, to watch his face scrunch up with want as you slapped it against your tongue. He hissed as you filled your mouth with him, running your tongue against the texture of the head and veins. As began to bob your head up and down, making the filthiest sounds, Mingyu moaned even louder.

Yes, a succubus indeed. Mingyu watched in fascination as you pleasured him. The sight of you and your siren-like eyes was more than enough to make him explode. He flopped an arm across his face. In his head, he tried his best to recount the entire roster of players of his favorite baseball team—anything to distract himself from the angel between his legs.

“Are you falling asleep on me, Gyu?” Your voice was the definition of innocence. You were well aware of his little trick to lasting longer. Your right hand remained on his length, stroking it with your saliva glistening in between your fingers. The slick, wet sounds filled the room.

“Never,” was his response. His arm stayed over his eyes. “Want to be inside you.”

You weren’t one to deny him. Your right hand kept stroking him as you rose on to your knees and pulled down your panties. Mingyu, now watching you once more, tugged at the shirt you wore. His shirt. The perks of having a giant as a boyfriend: oversized sleep shirts. You looked at him, and he blinked at you drowsily. His fingers ceaselessly tugged at the shirt, and you gave in, taking off the shirt in one swift go.

“Finally.” Mingyu immediately let out a deep breath at the sight of you. His hands lazily traced the sides of your body, ending up the swell of your breasts. “My baby’s so sexy.”

You preened at his words. Back to straddling him, his cock still in your hand, you began to lower yourself onto him. Mingyu dragged out a long groan as you lowered yourself to the base of his cock at an achingly slow pace. You swirled your hips, enjoying the sensation of him literally stirring your insides.

Fatigue had Mingyu’s arms fall back to his sides, and he watched you with bleary eyes. If he wasn’t careful, he would’ve drooled. Every stroke you made on his cock had him panting audibly. “Yes, baby. Use me. Use me.”

The words caused a hot flush of desire to run through your body, top to bottom. You pushed the hem of Mingyu’s shirt upwards to reveal his toned stomach and ran your fingers over every ridge, the sensation making him shiver.

“So deep Gyu, so full,” you whimpered.

“I told you that this is the hottest thing ever.” Mingyu looked up at you with a toothy grin. “Waking up to the most gorgeous girl in the world, so needy for me that she uses me when I’m sleeping… You’re making my dreams come true, angel.”

His words spurred you on, and you could feel your incoming climax. You fell onto him and buried your face into the crook of his neck, your favorite place. You almost wanted to cry from the pleasure. “I’m so close to coming.”

Mingyu turned his head to kiss your jaw. His hand cradled your head, the fingers carding through your hair. His breath was warm as he groaned right into your ear. Your pussy clenched at the feeling of it. “Please, baby. I want to feel you soak this cock with your pussy. I need you to use me like a toy.”

“My toy,” you mumbled thoughtlessly.

“Yes angel, your toy. All yours.” With your head buried into his neck, you didn’t witness Mingyu’s face scrunching up in pain. His jaw was clenched. He was so close to coming, but he needed you to come first. He wanted to be good for you. “Make that pretty pussy cum with my cock baby. Then I’ll fill you up.”

“Yessss,” you hissed and rode him harder and faster. Your head was spinning, and in your gut that knot that built up with every stroke on Mingyu’s cock started to unravel. You trembled on top of him, and your sweet moans caused Mingyu to start chasing his own release.

He held onto your hips as he planted his feet on the mattress and started thrusting upwards into your heat. Like a madman, he moaned deliriously. They were long, dragged-out raspy groans and pants that matched each thrust. The onslaught of his movements had you moaning desperately, and the sound was music to his ears. Such soft moans that contrasted with the deep bass of his groans.

“Cum with me Mingyu,” you rasped, bouncing on his hips with as much fervor as him.

He nodded like an obedient puppy, so desperate to please you. He pulled you back down towards him to make your foreheads meet. Mingyu loved looking into your eyes, loved being so close that he could melt into you. He loved the way your hair created a curtain around yourselves. It was only the two of you in that moment.

His head tilted back as his lips searched for yours. You met his lips, and allowed your release to take over. Mingyu held your head in place as you moaned into his ear, causing him to tip over the edge with you.

He pistoned himself faster into you as your legs gave out. You heard him babble nonsensical things as his bliss took over. He mumbled something about how much he loved your eyes, and your hair, and how cute you were. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. His other arm, which was wrapped around your waist, tightened while he gave three final strokes. You felt it, the warmth that filled your core and heard his moans fill the room.

Soon enough the room fell quiet agin, leaving just your heavy breathing. Mingyu looked up at you in wonder. His fingers pushed your hair back to gain a better view of your beautiful, flushed face. “We should do this every night.”

Smiling to yourself at the thought, you cleaned yourself up. Once you returned, Mingyu had already wiped himself down with a tissue, and fixed his clothes. You opened your mouth to say something before noticing the soft snores that came from him. He must’ve been really tired, or you literally sucked the life out of him like an actual succubus.

As you clambered back into bed, and wrapped your body around him like he was a body pillow, you decided you would have to make an extra strong cup of coffee for him in the morning.

#kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #svt mingyu #mingyu fanfic

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bitchlessdino · 1 year ago

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hello! 🤍 can i request a bad boy type wonwoo having a soft spot for also a cold type reader?

like they always acting so cold towards other people and even both of them acting like they hate each other.

and people are like "oh there is no way they can date", but wonwoo is only kind to reader and viceversa even without them noticing

Oh, and they dont even realized their feelings until reader feels jealous when they saw wonwoo with someone else and thats when they realized about it, but are afraid to said something since reader doesnt know how wonwoo will react

Kinda angst maybe, but fluff at the end

take your time btw! 🤍 it is also totally okay if is not possible, hope you are having an excellent day 🌸

Pairing: wonwoox gn!reader Genre: slight angst, fluff, slice of life Word count: 6.3k tags: mentions alcohol, childhood au, biker!wonu, frienemy!wonwoo, possible love triangle, reader called a bitch, presence of violence and imminent danger, analogy using car wrecks, mc and wonwoo stilling living with their parents as adults because that's normal ok, kinda messy, intimates kisses Summary: Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you're questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed? author note: this was collecting dust but finally she is here. just in time for wonwoo to be in my bias list 🙂

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch

You will never willingly be associated with Jeon Wonwoo.

His mom had just happened to be someone your mom knew. Someone that she hadn’t talked to or seen in a long time. Long enough to have built their own families and have their kids without realizing it. It was as if they fell back into place. A long-time childhood friendship that quickly rekindled in a grocery store one day. From that day on, your families were inseparable. As long as they were still friends, you’d see each other every day.

“Why would I babysit some weirdo kid? I have better things to do.”

The problem was he wanted nothing to do with you.

When you met him the first time, you were a child barely getting around to a bike without training wheels, and Wonwoo was meeting the first stages of fungal acne. He was a bit older than you were then and his mom had given him the duty to look after you, the neighbor’s kid. The neighbor’s weirdo kid.

His mom bragged to yours about how good of an older brother he was to his younger brother, Seonwoo, but that seemed that seems to be his limit. Having freshly turned a teen, it all made sense. Wonwoo didn’t know you, and all of a sudden in his growing years he’s stuck taking care of a kid he knows by association. Understandably, he’d have that teen angst.

You didn't mean to overhear. You just happened to eavesdrop behind a pillar that day in their obnoxiously nice house when you came across him and his mother talking privately. Admittedly, you hadn’t made the best impression, but you were any kid in their single digits: annoying, talkative, maybe skeptical. But you were a kid. A kid that got their feelings easily hurt.

Despite saying such hurtful words, Wonwoo listened. He treated you with care–consideration almost–following his mother's orders, but you didn't make it easy for him. Every group breakfast, every dinner, every ride to school. You became relentless. You knew how he really felt about your situation after all. Your mind was made up at that point.

If he wanted nothing to do with you, you wanted nothing to do with him.

“Keep walking.”

Your eyes barely glaze over at the unfamiliar figure before waving off your hand as if dismissing a nuisance, which in this case was accurate. The unsolicited stranger scoffs, getting up from his unwelcome seat, hacking and spitting on the spot on the floor next to your chair. “I don’t fuck with bitches anyway.”

You roll your eyes as you shoo him away with the flick of your wrist again, then feel another unwanted presence join you in your once peaceful solitude. You tightly shut your eyes in frustration before taking a deep exhale, finding silence impossible under your circumstances. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeon.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you hear Wonwoo arrogantly chuckle, shrugging off the thick leather off his shoulders and setting them on his lap as he takes a seat.

With your back turned to him, you imagine the pristinely lit smile on his face he gives when he’s amused, a rarity in these parts with the exception of you, someone he’s known long enough to recount every blemish that once appeared on your face. He watches you finish the rest of your drink, the bob of your throat shifting before you pull the glass away from your lips. Your resting bitch face is still intact after all these years.

“Good, keep it that way.”

Wonwoo could have chosen to keep the peace as he said he would, but it was just too easy with you. Even after you’ve left for college and come back, he acts as if nothing has changed. In his eyes, you were still that same angsty kid who always has something snarky to say when he’s around. And man, did he always have just as smart a rebuttal. “It’s just, that was the fifth guy you’ve scared off—course, the guy was a moron—but you like dying alone, Frosty?”

Frosty. The Snowman. Much unlike the jolly creature, however, you were given that name being somewhat of a cold character, particularly to Wonwoo and anything he witnesses face the wrath of your harsh but honest judgment.

You begin getting up from your seat, scowling at the abhorred nickname, the prediction of this dinner a mistake an accurate calculation. “Should’ve known you’d run your mouth. Tell mom I’m heading to the store across the street.”

Your mother was so proud to have you back home for a period before you’d find a new place again, and she insisted on holding a small intimate gathering at bar type restaurant. That meant sharing the space with other patrons, the Jeons, and unfortunately Wonwoo, who only grew more irritating than you last remember.

“I’ll tell her, but I’m coming with.”

The caretaker role he was bestowed upon so long ago seems to resonate with him still, insisting on trailing behind you with nonchalance. To which you answer with a brash:

“Fuck off.”

Your eyes go to the back of your skull the nth time tonight before you’re off on your stroll, noticing the annoying scrap of Wonwoo’s heel following behind you after he waves your mom and the rest of the party farewell. You ignore him, darting towards the antique shop that warms your stomach with nostalgia, hearing the wind chimes clang when you enter with a cool musk breeze to follow.

“That all you have to say to me? Even if you hate me, there has to be some…sentiment.”

You finger through the old hardcovers, eyes scanning over the aged wood of the shelves until they move on to the glossy wood of the cuckoo clocks on the walls. “Not even a little bit, Jeon.”

There’s the breathiness of his scoff that lingers in the musk air. He crosses your arms, the leather rubs loudly against itself. “Well, that’s sad to hear,” he responds, not sounding sad at all.

“Don’t you have an actual sibling to bother? Why are you being a nuisance to me?”

He simply shrugs. “Seonwoo isn’t back from his work-study just yet. Plus he’d be happy to know I kept you company.”

Unlike Wonwoo, Seonwoo was actually tolerable, pleasant even. If you were envious of Wonwoo for anything, it was having a nice little brother like Seonwoo. You weren’t exactly close but he was a nice kid, a lot nicer than Wonwoo anyway, and not at all that annoying kind of nice that chirps every two seconds.

You sigh. “Now that’s actually sad to hear.”

“I knew you’d say that. You always liked him better than me.”

Only because you never liked me in the first place.

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh my god, Wonwoo?”

A shrill voice beckons from the store entrance, an older version of a girl from your adolescence runs towards you both. “I thought I heard your gorgeous voice. Gorgeous face as well as always, how are you?”

Gina also grew up in the same neighborhood you both did and was typically nice, but around Wonwoo, she seemed to lose all train of thought since all her eyes could train on was him. She bats her eyelashes the same flirtatious way several years ago, and instinctively her body is drawn to him like mosquitos to blood, drinking in masculine appearance for all its worth.

If you were anything like her, you’d get it. Wonwoo is an attractive man by society's standards, but the truth of the matter is you can’t stand him. And you know deep down he can’t stand you. His fake politeness isn’t fooling anybody. Okay, that is a lie. His fake politeness doesn’t fool you, but his limitless charm made everyone else weak in the knees.

“Good, good.” He nods cordially, a smile drained from his face only leaving a straight stare, eyes only landing on Gina momentarily before they return to you.

Gina finds his gaze’s target before the light is slightly dimmed from her initially bright eyes. “And you too. Oh gosh, you must’ve got back too. Can you believe we’ve both graduated from college?”

You wonder if she does, considering you did graduate from the same university.

“Yeah, it’s…crazy.” You answer, sounding unintentionally sarcastic.

Gina awkwardly chuckles, eyes back on Wonwoo as if they never left. “All we need is Seonwoo and it’s like the musketeers again, huh?”

Hardly the musketeers when she only ever stalked Wonwoo the entire time. You’re surprised you didn’t find she didn’t follow him all the way to the bathroom too.

Wonwoo’s cold expression is a steel cage that lacks interest. He blindly nods, mumbling “sure,” and not giving any other sign of continuing the conversation.

“Well, you guys should totally make it to my housewarming party. I’m inviting all the other guys from the neighborhood. Invite Seonwoo too! It’ll be a nice way to catch up.”

“We’ll think about it,” Wonwoo answers, giving her another curt nod.

“I’ll be really, really grateful if you did.”

There are stars in her eyes, like a treat is dangling in front of it, that treat being a six-foot body of steel and perfect Wonwoo.

“Right,” he grunts.

She finally waves you both goodbye before making it past the glass doors with a quirk in her step.

You continue to peruse the rest of the store, picking up that one wooden statue that’s never been sold, or if it has, it keeps getting returned. It makes you wonder if it’s cursed. “Just reject her already and let her move on. Even I feel sorry for her.”

“I’m not ready for the aftermath of all that.”

You really have to unlearn that eye roll of yours. You could tell it’s giving you a headache. “Of course you aren’t.”

“You’re not going, are you? The thing she mentioned?”

“This the first time you met me? Of course, I’m not going. You are?”

He shrugs. “A party never hurt anybody.”

“Without an address?”

He pulls out his phone with a notification as clear as day, Gina’s Instagram handle ushering him with details of where the party whereabouts. “Who said I didn’t have an address?”

“She really needs to find a hobby.”

Wonwoo chuckles, tucking the phone back in his front pocket. “Ready to head back now? Unless you want to look through the store a second time.”

You groan. “Stop policing me. I’m going home.”

“I’ll take you.”

You raise your brow. “On your fucking death trap? No thanks.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms, the leather of his jacket speaking out of turn again. “You say that as if people aren’t begging to the back of my Harley.”

“Only people with a death wish.”

That goes on for some time until you make yourself walk the mile before your feet give out. Wonwoo obviously is the first with a smile on his face before he forces you to get the rest of the couple miles on the back of his bike, which was admittedly prettier in person than the photos your mom showed you.

There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you get on—no doubt regret—questioning the proximity. “Hold on,” he says, to which you answer, “fat fucking chance.”

Your spiteful words are wasted as you find yourself tugging on him as you speed off on the vehicle from hell on the freeway.

“You’re an asshole!” You scream from your lungs.

“And I told you to hold on!” He screams back, a wide smile on his face you have no way of seeing.

You desperately wrap your arms around his torso, your life flashing before your eyes like a movie. All you hear is the wind in your ears while the traffic lights are hardly visible through your tightly shut eyes. You feel your soul leave your body, thinking nothing but the idea of an afterlife. If there was one good thing about the predicament you’re in, it’d be that he can’t see the terror in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much you want to scream bloody murder.

Before you know it, you arrive home safe and sound, the gas stopping at the curb of your house. He abruptly uses the bike break and you crash against broad shoulders, and you exude bumbling idiocy as you cling to him like a baby with separation anxiety. Oxygen finally enters your brain and you recognize your compromised position, forcing your grip off of him. You unbuckle and shove his helmet into his lap as you get off, a permanent scowl on your face.

“Fuck you.”

“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Frosty.”

You don’t forget that encounter back then and you never get a chance to with your mom finding any excuse to see the Jeons day after day since your arrival. If that perfect apartment with affordable rent were to drop at your feet at a perfect time just when you so desperately needed it, it’d be now.

“Bring that in over next door. The Jeons will be thrilled to see their fridge stocked. And remember I’ll be gone until the morning.”

“We just gave them homemade wine yesterday. Mom, just because they live next door doesn’t mean we always have to plan to meet. We see them anyway.” You grab the cumbersome container of whatever it was anyway and hold it to your side like like a football, a strained expression on your face.

“You need to understand the value of lasting relationships. That’s why you’re still single, honey.”

You roll your eyes, groaning as you trod off, not wanting to start up another one of lectures why you're in your mid-twenties room with hardly any men in your books let alone in your court. Better off facing Jeon Wonwoo again than that, you guess.

You knock on their familiar white door, awaiting an answer from the other side. Soon enough you hear a masculine voice, but a voice that isn’t quite Wonwoo’s. The boy's fresh face on the receiving end piques your interest, an expression telling of a life of light and ease. Seonwoo stares back at you with a smile before politely waving. “It’s good seeing you! Been a minute.”

You find yourself returning a gesture, relaxing your arms. “It has. Mom wanted to send things over. Again.”

“Of course. Come in.”

You leave the box of goods in their fridge, feeling the presence of the younger Jeon follow behind you like a benevolent puppy. “Did you get in yesterday?”

“This morning. Early flight.”

You grin. “Singapore doing you good, I see.”

“Nothing like home though.”

You softly chuckle, “Yeah, there isn’t.”

Your conversation is cut short with another family coming down the stairs, one that looks ready to leave. They meet your eyes in amusement and his steps begin to falter in turn. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Don’t you dare make a joke about me missing you. It wasn’t funny any of the first five times.”

He’s smug as expected, entertained by the fact you’ve kept count. “I won’t, but it won’t make it any less true.”

You scoff. “Live in reality for once in your life, Wonwoo.”

“I will when you do.” He comes to the kitchen—briefly passing by you to do so and grazing your forearm—to fill a glass of water and downs it, his signature jacket thrown over his shoulders. He let out a refreshed sigh in your direction and put it away as soon as he finished. “I’m leaving now. When you change your mind about missing me, I’ll be at Gina’s party. Might actually find some fun there while you’re at it.”

The door closes behind him dramatically and your attention is right back on Seonwoo, the successful bystander. “Your brother is annoying.”

The young man smiles, finding the nostalgia in that small event. “Reminds me of the good old times.”

“Well, I should get going.”

“You’re going to the party too?”

You shake your head. “Not the slightest bit interested. Just trying to keep myself busy while I’m still in town.”

“Plan on leaving already? You just got here.”

“I can’t live on my parents forever. Need to make a living of my own you know.”

He softly laughs, a warm light enveloping his presence. He always seems to emit pure joy. Like there was nothing that could ruin this kid's day. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still self-reliant.”

You can’t help but smile back, “… Wouldn't be me if I wasn’t. I'll see you later, kid.”

You walk back home and go on with the rest of your afternoon by carrying on the duties of a college graduate with no job: endless job hunting. You let yourself go on that way for an hour, already bored by rereading your applicant details and sending in copies and copies of cover letters and documents. Your eyes have started to see stars shooting from either corner, warning signs of mental fatigue.

Shaking the numbing feeling, you shut off your laptop and notice the time on the clock. In the back of your mind, you’re remembering that party Wonwoo ended up going to. These parties weren’t by any means rare, but it had been some time since you let yourself give into environments as such. You said you wouldn't go but in dire situations of weary silences, perhaps it would hurt to take a second in a new subsubspace. Something to take off the edge of the weight of your undetermined future.

Against your initial better judgment, you force yourself out of that house to enter that very party you said you wouldn't go to. So like Gina to make an event over a normal thing like this. You don’t put much thought into what you wear and leave the house and when you arrive late as you were, you are unsurprised by the huge turnout. Five seconds in, you’re already regretting the 10 bucks you paid via UBER to get there.

The house was so Gina. As expected of one of the daughters of the wealthiest families in town. As you enter, all you hear is music, loud and rambunctious voices and laughter, and shouts of barely adults chugging whatever concoction in those house party solo cups. It all quickly reminds you of college and high school, times in your life you were relieved to know were over.

Why did you decide to come again if you knew this was going to happen?

You try ignoring the voices that seem to recognize you, evading and walking through the place for a potential drink to buzz you out of self-consciousness. If you were going to be in a place like this, a drink was warranted by all means.

“Wonwoo, come on!”

Gina’s voice, easily distinguishable, resonates from the other end of the room and sees how her presence bounces like a kite in the wind. You look in the direction of her gaze to find the person she seeks, ultimately having Wonwoo being dragged by the wrist, his hair sweeping the swift breeze of her force. You were a bit relieved to see him, someone who is more similar to you in ways you’d never willingly admit.

You feel the urge to approach, curious how he’ll handle this one, but intentions all change of a brisk move, changing setting immediately. One second Gina looks up at him with doe eyes that speak longing and ache, another second her arms are looped around his neck and she pulls his lips against hers, massaging against them naturally as if rehearsed. Your feet stop, watching the unsightly scene like it’s a car crash as if in slow motion, taking you only a second to realize he hasn't yet let go.

Slowly then quickly, your chest pulls up like a marionette doll before it drops in a lump, repeating until the sound of your heart is rapidly pounding into your skull. You don’t understand it, but you don’t want to either. Swiftly, you duck back and turn your head in the other direction, having seen enough.

Then panic ensues.

People are harder to brush through than you realize. Colliding each one was like speed bumps in your way of a smooth departure. You were bound to have one person take a drunken offense to your rash movement and there it was: a subtle push that led to a spilled drink that stains the shirt of a man big enough to frighten children if he approached.

“Watch the fuckkk ya goin’!”

You don’t bother with the importance of apologizing or even acknowledging him. You realize it too late when he pulls at your collar back towards him, strangling you at the throat.

“S…stupid bitch can’t even see…fucking ruin my—hic—deink”

Your hands come around his grip, attempting to pry him off. “L-let me go. The fuck?”

“The fuck you say to me piece of shi—ah!”

He finally releases you when Wonwoo appears from behind him, tossing him out like an old ragdoll with no weight. The drunkard comes crashing down to the hardwood floor and before he realizes the cause of it, said cause whisks you away with his gril looping around your wrist.

“You’re going home right the fuck now,” Wonwoo grumbles, dragging you out of other guests' way and right out of the door, once again leading you to his motorcycle. “Bike now.”

“Wonwoo, what the fuck—“

“You aren’t an idiot. You knew what was gonna happen if I hadn’t stepped in. Now get on before fee fi fo fum finds out we left.”

“I’m not getting on that death trap again!”

His glare pierces right through you. “I know you'd rather be at home than here. Especially with the probability of becoming a statistic. Get on.”

He is right for the most part and even you’re seeing through your nonsensical defiance. Reluctantly, you follow his lead, knowing he’s left you with no other choice. You endure another near death experience, this time clutching on to him less resistantly unlike last time all the way back home. It is when you’re at the foot of your door you only realize the keys that were supposed to be in your pocket but left on the kitchen counter instead.

“Shit.”

Wonwoo quickly puts the pieces together. “No key?”

You shake your head, embarrassed slightly over your feeble appearance. “No, and mom won’t be back until the morning so I’m screwed.”

“Alright. You’re sleeping over.”

You scoff looking back at him, wondering whether he’s in the right state of mind to make that call. “You’re kidding.”

“Not unless you’re okay slumbering at the footstep of your door.”

Another choice made of your hands. You discouragingly follow after him as he unlocks the door across the street. Seonwoo was evidently still home with his loafers by the foot of the door but dead asleep upstairs in bed.

“You take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offers nodding in the direction of the living room.

“No thanks, I’ll take the couch.”

He groans, giving that irritated look. “Don’t be difficult and just sleep in the damn bed.”

You huff, strutting over towards the couch. “Sleep in your own damn bed, Jeon. Stop treating me like you’re my babysitter.”

He follows after you, crossing his arms like an annoyed mother, “You’re really gonna be like this?”

“I’m not being like anything.”

“You know what?” He grabs the throw pillow off the couch, “Fine. We’ll share the couch.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow back at him.

The smug smile on his face says it all, knowing there was no rebuttal to follow. “Neither of us will take the bed, we’ll both will take the couch.”

Before you can argue, he ascends the stairs for more bedding and comes back to toss you a blanket and pillow. He keeps one of each for himself, sprawling on the other end of the massive couch, gesturing you to do the exact same. Cautiously, you mirrored his image, crawling under your borrowed blanket. Despite your feet not touching, you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the close proximity, forcing you to crunch up your legs and bring your knees close to your chest.

Wonwoo’s eyes drop in place, nuzzling into his thick blanket. “Good night.”

“Whatever.”

He softly scoffs with a smile, basking in the silence. Meanwhile, there was you, wondering why you listened to his instructions so willingly. You sigh, your eyes glued to the ceiling counting every bump and curve of its textured surface.

“This is stupid it’s literally 10 pm”

“Sounds like bedtime.”

You peek back at him, his eyes still closed. “You did not go to a party to plan on sleeping at 10 pm.”

“You don’t know what my plans are. Sleep now.”

“I could’ve handled it, you know,” you argue.

“I bet you could’ve,” he responds dryly. “Wasn’t gonna take that risk though.”

“I’m serious…you didn’t have to, especially since…”

“What?”

“You know,” you take a moment to form the words, “whatever that was with Gina.”

You hear him scoff, shifting on his side of the couch. “Nothing was happening with Gina.”

You let out a parched laugh, in disbelief of the words leaving his lips. “Wow, that lie comes so easy, does it?”

“Believe what you want. It’s not what you think anyway.”

“You’re so…obnoxious,” you sputter.

“Thank you.”

“So when did that happen? You and Gina?”

He huffs hot air out of his nose.“There’s no me and Gina. I don’t know what you saw, but…it’s nothing.”

“You were kissing.”

“You could call it that.”

“For a while,” You add.

“Just enough for her to find closure.”

“And did she?”

“Saved your ass before I could find out.”

You have no response to that and you let the silence take over for a few minutes. After those few minutes, Wonwoo was the one to break the peace.

“You asleep yet.”

“No, it’s not even 11,” you answer exasperatedly.

“Well, I'm tired.”

“Go to sleep then.”

“You should sleep before I do.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, “I'm supposed to take care of you. It’s what your mom would want.”

“Why? I'm a grown adult.”

“I don’t think an explanation is needed.”

“Ever heard of personal space?”

“Make some smart decisions and I’ll consider it.”

“You’re such a dick,” you grunt, turning away from view.

“I’m only trying to protect you.”

This shit again. You pushed yourself up from the couch to sit up, fuming in his direction. “Because your mom asked. Okay, I get it, but you’re not obligated to anymore because I’m your mom's friend’s kid. Just stop.”

“That’s not why–”

“Stop lying–”

“I’m not fucking lying,” he says matching your stance. His gaze meets yours in anguish, urging you to drop it.

You scoff, lying back down in a sleeping position with your back turned towards him. “Whatever.”

“...Despite popular belief, I’m actually concerned about you sometimes.”

“I guess…I don't entirely find that hard to believe.”

“Thank you. It’s not like I hate you.”

“Sure,” you answer, voice basted in sarcasm.

“I don’t.” You hear his body shift back down on the couch, finding comfort between the leather cushions.

“Then why are you such a dick.”

He sighs. “Sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“...Sorry.”

You ponder to yourself, wanting to turn back the clock to the earlier conversation for unknown reasons. You turn your body, seeing how his body mimics your body seconds ago, back turned, eyes closed, and facing the couch. “So if not Gina–”

“There’s no one,” he cuts off, “I mean, I'm not seeing anyone.”

It reassures you. Not that it should’ve. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Okay.”

You’re unsure when you drifted off, you only remember it being mid-conversation that your vision started to blur, followed by darkness and soon the light of the following morning. You wake up in Wonwoo’s house unexpectedly alone, quiet enough to hear the sound of a pin dropping. You enter the kitchen, parched, and you find a plate of food. You approach cautiously, catching a glimpse of the note, immediately catching on to why it was so damn empty.

Went to get stuff done. Keep yourself entertained for a bit. - Wonwoo and Seonwoo

With an impish grin, you quickly run your fork over and over into the balanced meal and nourish your body, but slow down as your subconscious reminds you of last night's events. It wanders to your impulse to attend a party out of sheer boredom, stumbling upon an unexpected scene, before immediately trying to escape it before you are caught. The kiss becomes a scene stuck on replay, playing the image like a broken record. You did not black out, though you wish you had, considering your uncalled-for badgering of Wonwoo’s relationship status you shouldn’t have cared less about. Yet do.

You try bruising it off if you can help it, quick to leave, and relieved to find your mom home to let you in. Your day begins a new, and with a new day, she already has stuff for you to do. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so grateful to be let back in home, remembering to grab your keys this time as you left the house again following her request for grocery shopping.

You drink in the town for the first time since being back, questioning yourself why you hadn’t done it earlier. The block isn’t that different since you left, perhaps more greenery and flowers, but otherwise everything looked the same. Same old town, same old stores, the only thing difference was the people. Fine lines got deeper, toddlers now taller, and you now a stranger. Even the grocery store has changed managers, one adolescent bag boy at a time.

Even long finished with grocery shopping, you’re still wandering the center of town, circling in steps of the alternating tiles of the ground. For a moment, you free yourself from your thoughts, your worries, your ambitions, and live in the moment. It had been so long since you felt like this. You expected the feeling to emerge in college but that had been just another thing on your plate and suddenly you’re reminded of Wonwoo. Knowing him, he’d like this sight of you, proud to see you experience another emotion for a change.

Then your eyes flit back to the scene several meters from you. He reappears in your vision just as he has in your thoughts, only now Gina embracing him, squeezing the life out of him just as the life is squeezed out of your chest. He meets your eyes, his pupils expanding, before lightly pushing the poor girl off of him, but not in enough time to stop you from trying to escape again.

“Hey!”

You ignore him, letting your feet take you where it guides you. You’re blind to the incoming obstacles, brushing past pedestrians, shoulder everybody you meet, and you barely register the busy road before your feet make an unexpected halt. You hear the blaring honks until you’re pulled out, face crashing into their shoulder, arms coming around your in strong enclosure.

“Are you stupid? Why are you running into oncoming traffic?”

You shove him off, heart beating louder in your chest than any bike ride he’s taken you on has, and you’re seething in an emotion that you never expected to be in. Never in this lifetime at least. “Wonwoo just stop. Please.”

“I’m not doing anything. I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away.”

“I’m just sick of this. Of you. I can’t do this.”

“Why? Why? What do you think this is?”

“Just, leave me alone, Wonwoo.”

He sees you trying to walk out on him again and he doesn’t let you. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards him, leaving only the width of your forearm as his gaze pierces right through you, brimming with a mix of concern and utter anger. Frustration. Impatience.

If there was one thing about Wonwoo, he may have looked like he came from an anger management class, but he did manage it well. When he didn’t, your feet would feel glued to the concrete, frozen in the fire of his eyes, for once fearing what the man had to say.

“You know what? No. I’m not letting you do this? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you hate me so much–”

“God,” you groan, “it would be so easy if I just hated you.”

“Then what is it? You don’t hate me. You don’t like me. What? I’m wracking my brain trying to understand you–”

You don’t let him finish. You aren't sure what was in the breakfast you had today but you find yourself pulling him by the collar to meet his lips only to push him away in that instant, barely a whisper of his presence in your mouth. You clamp your hand over your mouth before finally treading away shocked by your actions, scurrying away.

He doesn’t follow you and you don’t blame him. You retrieve your once-abandoned groceries from the intersection to then find your way home. Rain is close to follow, drenching from head to toe. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

When you get home, you’re alone once again. The door shuts with a clang and you’re left in your self wallow, regret burning the back of your throat. Your back slid against the wood, a deep exhale expelling from your lungs. “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Like clockwork, you feel a knock erupt from the same door. Conceding to whatever was on the other side, you brush yourself up from the ground and turn the knob, only to be taken aback. Wonwoo, wet like made from glass with his locks swept over his head, stands before you panting. On either hand is a bundle of flowers barely protected in the cellophane it came with when he bought them and his cell phone he’s death gripping in his hand, no doubt damaged by the rain.

You blink back at him, lips parting in confusion. “Wonwoo…You’re wet.”

“Likewise.” He invites himself in and sets the flowers on a table nearby, not even for a second letting his gaze stray from yours. “You left me hanging there. Kiss a guy and walk away like he means nothing?”

You shake your head in disbelief, processing this, him. “Why are you here…with flowers?”

“I really do have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” he responds smiling.

The squelch of his shoes trod in your direction, the invisible string connecting you two shortening. Preventing your evasion, you feel the palm of his hand against your back and your lips crash in a lingering reunion. The squeak of his slippery leather doesn't make it past your ears, distracted by the heat of his lips in the clash of the coolness of his rain-stained skin.

Your hand crawls up his neck to press him closer, feeling the strength of his arms wrap around you tighter before shutting the front door effortlessly with his foot. He lets you pin him against the door, lips tight bound to yours, and relief settles in his stomach as you show no sign of pulling away. He finds himself whispering a word of gratitude in every language, smiling against your lips. “No more excuses…I’m not letting anyone get in the way. Not even you.”

You finally break out in a smile, brushing it against his lips before reclaiming them, not minding the wet leather.

You spend the rest of the day in each other’s company. You put away the groceries before the room temperature worked against their favor and got yourselves changed out of your rain-dampened clothes, throwing them in the dryer. Even if he lived right next door, you allow him to wear your most oversized shirt after he insisted he should, watching the cotton fabric cling to his broad shoulders with the hem just hitting him at his hip bone.

Man, he’s a large man.

“Kinda snug.”

You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to hold yourself back. “You can get clothes next door. You’re just a few steps away.”

He grins, approaching you. “It’s raining…I could get sick.” His long arms land on either of your shoulders, reminding you of that cat that knew too much in a childhood cartoon. “You don’t want me sick…”

“You wouldn’t get sick taking two long strides to your house, Jeon,” you respond, rolling your eyes, unable to meet his.

“But you’d take care of me if I was, right?”

You roll your eyes, accepting his advances of a hug and feeling his chin fit in the crook of your neck. “Kiss a guy two times too many and he follows you around like a stray cat.”

He grins. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t. You probably even like my bike and you’re not telling me.”

“Okay well, no. Those are two separate matters.”

His arms wrap around you tighter before reuniting your lips, such tenderness and sweetness in his gaze as he thumbs over the curve of your cheek. “You don’t deny that other thing.”

“I thought was already point blank. You know, when I didn’t push you away, kicking and screaming.”

“Yeah, but,” he shrugs, his cheekbones only getting higher. “Hard to come by something nice from you. I want to hear it.”

You sigh, giving in. “Fine.”

Your head fit between the divide of his chest, hearing a quickened pulse underneath it. You close your eyes as your hand strokes against his back. “I have… feelings for you. Maybe for once good feelings. Just don’t get cocky about it.”

Overwashed with calm joy, he takes you tighter, inhaling the soap in your hair. “Too late.”

#svthub #wonwoo #wonwoo angst #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen #jeon wonwoo angst #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #jwon wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x you #jeon wonwoo x y/n

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slytherinshua · 6 months ago

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ALARM

genre. fluff. warnings. not proofread. pairing. riku x reader. wc. 464. request. requested by anon for #5: "five more minutes please. I don’t wanna leave you.” a/n. look at sleepy riku he's sooo pretty :( most massive brainrot i think that might've singlehandedly made him my top bias wrecker...

Riku had a habit of oversleeping. From the very first day you slept over with him, you figured it out. Waking him up was easy, and there were many ways to do it. If you so much as kissed his forehead, like the sleeping beauty he was, he would open his eyes. But he just loved to fall back asleep, which is where the problem came in.

His alarm had gone off almost 4 times already now, and each time he woke up to snooze it, he would soon fall back asleep after mumbling something about how warm the blankets were or how tired he was. By the time the alarm went off the 4th time, you turned it off instead, deciding to take matters into your hands. If he kept this up, Riku was sure to be late to practice.

You knew he was awake, you could feel him nuzzle his head against the crook of your neck, almost as if he knew you would force him to get up and didn’t want you to. He could never say no to you; it was embarrassing how quickly he could fold. He was such a simp. Some days he took it with pride, other days he felt as if it was unfair just how down bad he was. If he wasn’t so in love with you, it would be much easier to get his way.

“Riku, baby.” You started in a soft voice, immediately earning a whine from your boyfriend who only tightened his grip on you.

“Five more minutes, please. I don’t wanna leave you.” He pleaded, his groggy voice muffled by the blankets and pillows.

“You have practice today. It’s already 7.” You nudged him, trying to find a way to get his body off of yours. But he was much stronger than you, and had at least double the determination you did in staying right where he was.

“Just five minutes, I promise.” He mumbled, already on the edge of sleep again. You had to admit he did look so comfortable snuggled so closely to you. And he was warm, and smelled really nice, and…

“Fine, just five more minutes.” You surrendered, your hand finding his back as you started to stroke it. After all, he had been working so hard lately. He deserved a little more sleep since he wanted it so bad. Plus, how could you ever say no to your boyfriend?

Riku sighed in content, pleasant goosebumps rising on his skin as you scratched his back gently. He let sleep overtake him again, mentally preparing to explain to Sion how his alarm just hadn’t worked that morning. Him wanting to stay in bed with you? No, no, that was so unlike him. It was definitely the alarm’s fault.

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyujs,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @talking-saxy,, @hursheys,,

@kristianities

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starryalpacasstuff · 3 months ago

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The Absence of India in Discussions on Queer Asian Media

(Edit: Since making this post, I've compiled a list of all the queer Indian media I can find here (it's also pinned on my blog). India may still be relatively absent from discussions on queer media, but it doesn't have to be that way, and change starts with us!)

So, yesterday @lurkingshan tagged me in an ask she got from @impala124 about the absence of India when we're talking about queer Asian media. I was intially just going to reblog it with my thought, but as it kept growing I figured it'd be best to just make my own post. Please read the ask linked above first so this makes sense.

*cracks knuckles* this is going to be the most fun I've had writing a post in ages. (For a little background, I'm a queer Indian, born and raised)

So, this is a very interesting question on a subject I've been rotating in my head for the past several months. There's a lot of different variables that contribute to the noticeable lack of discussion on Indian and South Asian queer media in general, so I'm just going to talk through the ones I've noticed a little randomly.

Talking about Asian media in general, it's well known that the mass popularity of kpop and anime has contributed massively to the increase in popularity of Asian media. If you've been in the Asian media fandom for any amount of time at all, you'll have noticed that media from Korea, Japan, and China gets by far the most attention from international audiences; all East Asian countries. There may be several reasons for this, but in particular, it's no secret that the fetishization of East Asians is a massive proponent in the popularity of media from these countries, while there's no such interest in South Asians. If we shift our focus to queer media specifically, media from these three countries is still extremely popular, with the addition of Thailand and the Philippines to some extent; both South East Asian countries. From what I've seen, there's very little international interest in media from South Asian countries (although, if we're talking about India specifically, I can't exactly say anything. Bollywood has not been good lately). If we talk about queer South Asian media, the scope of interest falls even further. If you'll notice, MyDramaList, one of the most commonly used websites for finding and tracking Asian shows only allows for East and South-East Asian shows. So, that's one reason—there's just not much international interest in Indian media in general. As Shan said in the initial post, it's partially because of a difference in priorities. Korea is notorious for using media to gain global standing, the role of the 'soft power' of Thai bls in the recent bills for equal marriage in Thailand has been widely discussed, the list goes on. Could racism also play a part in the massive gulf of interest in media from East Asian versus South Asian countries? Probably. But I'm not going to get into that too much.

Moving on, there's obviously a massive lack of queer media in India. I think this is greatly exacerbated by the fact that it's very hard to support the people making queer media beyond buying and/or streaming their work. The majority of people engaging with Indian queer media are queer Indians, and a lot of us have to do so in secret because of the society we live in. This means that creators that have to push through several obstacles to publish their work often receive little incentive to continue doing so because of the lack of engagement. Because of the lack of media, international fans are less likely to become interested in queer Indian media, and the cycle continues.

I will say though, contrary to what Shan said, I think Indian media, particularly anything that came out post 2019 might actually be on the easier end of the spectrum when it comes to access. This may simply be bias, so forgive me if I'm wrong here, but from what I've seen, a lot of queer Indian shows are in fact available on streaming sites, and at most you'd need a vpn to access them. I think the two main things that actually hold back queer Indian media from becoming more popular are a lack of noise and it's relatively lower quality.

The main way we find out about new shows in this space is through either word of mouth (well actually, post) or because we follow production houses known for producing media. Because of the sparse nature of both the media and the consumers, there's very few people who learn enough about the media to want to give it a shot. For example, there's a film on netflix called Badhaai Do (hindi for Congratulate Us) that I've been meaning to watch for a while. It centers around a lavender marriage and I've heard a lot of good things about it, so I was slightly surprised to see that most of the people on tumblr I interact with who have been engaging with queer media for far longer than me had never heard of it. There's also a, Indian BL from 2017 called Romil and Jugal that I've written about before here, and I would've never learned of it's existence if not for a friend hearing about it from another friend of hers.

Because there's so little queer indian media, it's natural that the quality leaves much to be desired. The main issue is, because the queer asian media market has become so saturated lately people are becoming a lot more selective with what they watch, and for good reason. This means that queer media from india is simply unable to grow and improve over time, leaving it stagnant. Back in 2016-2018, the overall dearth of queer media from Asia meant that a lot of people were willing to watch shows that were average or even worse. Thailand particularly seems to have benefitted from this, being able to grow and evolve its queer media due to the successes of shows like SOTUS, 2gehter, TharnType and more even recently, KinnPorsche. Queer Indian media will have a much, much harder time with this because of all of the factors I've talked about and more, meaning that it is much harder for queer media to evolve. Honestly, though I haven't been able to watch/read much queer media from India, the stuff I have seen is really quite decent, it's just that it tends to fail in comparison to some of the brilliant stuff we're seeing from other countries. A while a ago, I bought four queer books by Indian authors, and of the three I've read so far, I'd genuinely recommend two, albeit one with quite a few reservations (I'll be writing about them sometime in the future, just haven't found the time yet). While talking about this with @neuroticbookworm, she brought up the excellent point of how Indian media in general has just been of fairly poor quality lately. It seems to me that a lot of it is catered to more conservative audiences, which results in people like me becoming disillusioned with Indian media and simply moving onto things from other countries. It has been a long time since I've watched anything worthwhile come out of Bollywood. So, it becomes even harder for queer Indian shows to be found at all; a majority of their target audience has already forsaken Indian media as a lost cause.

So, those are a bunch of reasons because of which there's not a lot of discussion about queer Indian media in fandom spaces like Tumblr. Something else I'd like to point out is, it's very hard for queer shows in India to gain much traction whatsoever. Live television slots are ruled by the infamous Indian serials, the majority of the audience being people in their late thirties and older, particularly women. And while homophobia is just as prevalent amongst the youth of India as it is amongst older generations, younger people are far more likely to be engaging with queer media, in India at least. This means that it would be near impossible for queer shows to air on live television the way they do in countries like Thailand and Japan. The majority of Indian youth use global streaming services to watch shows, hence the greater concentration of queer shows on service platforms. (Romil and Jugal is something of a dark horse here—I don't believe it was ever aired, but it was produced by a producer who has a few decently popular serials under her belt and is available on an Indian steaming service—another reason I'm determined to research how tf this show ever came into existence) If we talk of movies, the industry is limited by the iron fist of Bollywood, another reason it's very hard for queer movies to be produced and why they're generally found on streaming sites.

There's just not a lot of people who have the balls it would take to make a queer Indian show/movie and push it to the Indian public beyond a streaming service. I mean, we're all seeing what's happening with the Love in The Big City drama right now, and believe me, public backlash in India would be the same, if not much worse. And if no one in India is watching these shows, why would anyone in any other part of the world? There's barely any public figures that would be willing to participate in such a project, so queer media stays underground. Currently, Karan Johar is the most popular—and one of the only—out celebrities in Bollywood, and, well, he's treated as something of a laughing stock by the public. He has one or two queer adjacent shows under his belt as a producer, but once again, they're barely known and available only on Netflix. There was a movie called Dostana in which he played a straight guy pretending to be gay but, well, that speaks for itself. And well, I can't exactly blame him for it, knowing how the Indian entertainment industry is.

To talk a little more about the specific comparison between India and Korea, I think you're fairly accurate in saying that the two countries seem to be roughly on par in terms of homophobia, although that's an extremely vague statement that's rather hard to either prove or disprove. While the difference in international attention towards Korean and Indian media is certainly a major component of the difference in discussion about the queer media from these countries, there's obviously other things that go into it as well. There's this video I watched some time ago on the progression of queer representation in K-dramas that's quite well researched. It's an hour and a half long, so in case you don't have the time to watch it (though I do recommend it), it basically talks about some of the dramas with queer rep that have aired on Korean television and their impact. While it's hard to gauge the level of impact of these shows on the availability of bls and gls in Korea, they certainly had an effect, if only telling the queer population of Korea that they are seen and heard. To my knowledge (although I may be mistaken), no such queer rep has ever aired on Indian television, meaning that there's nothing to push creators to put queer media out there. There have been old movies and shows that depict queerness, but none of them ever reached the sort of the scale where they may have some sort of impact on the industry. As I mentioned earlier, the widespread popularity of K-dramas (and k-pop) does make it easier for creators to make queer media since there's a much higher chance of the shows being successful thanks to the international audience. Bringing back Love In The Big City, the success of the book abroad and the high probability of the show being well received internationally is probably one of the reasons it was able to be produced amongst domestic backlash.

Now, I've been talking a lot about how it's difficult for queer Indian media to gain any sort of international recognition with domestic attention. However, it's not necessarily the case. Here's where I start rambling (I say, as if this post isn't verging on 2k words). It's been proven that the presence of the international market allows for greater creative freedom in spaces beyond television. The best example comes from Korea's very own 'soft power'; K-pop. There's a K-pop group called Dreamcatcher that debuted in 2017 with a rock sound and horror concept that was extremely rare in kpop at the time. They succeeded mainly by focusing most of their promotions to the foreign market, knowing that their concept would not be well liked in Korea. And they succeeded. Today, Dreamcatcher has a sizeable fandom and has even been growing in popularity in Korea, with the Korean public warming up to their genre and having influenced other girl groups to try out similar sounds. We've already talked about the lack of international attention for Indian media, but there's also the issue that the producers of queer Indian media aren't marketing to foreign audiences, which remain ignorant.

That's all I have, this is so long good lord. All in all, there's a bunch of factors that feed into each other creating a cycle which means that, unless there's a break somewhere, queer Indian media will remain unrecognized. I'm excited to see what other people have to say, because this is a topic close to my heart and I'd definitely enjoy seeing more discussions around it.

#yet another 2k post by yours truly who apparently Does not Have Self Control #this was fun though!#uffff im tired #this is not edited so forgive me if there's error or i repeat stuff #how do i even tag this #queer indian media #queer media #desiblr #fandom #bl meta #ql #meta #indian media #asian media #asian dramas #asian lgbtq dramas #bl industry

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hyuneskkami · 3 months ago

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01 ✦ ‘cops and robbers’ chase each other full of energy ! ༄.°

𝒽wang hyunjin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : i’m going crazyyyyy. I needed to put down—into words—an irl situation, and decided to call it a fanfic for my bias and post it 😭 anywayy it’s my first non-pjo or non-anime fic so I hope it turned out okay 😩 also here’s some fanart I found of the same vlive as the icons above (it’s so cute) ! <3 and as always!! anything I write about the idols is not a representation of them irl ! also possibly part ii coming as soon as I have the patience to write it bc I love the current flow 😋

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : day 1 , best friend!hyunjin , non-idol au , high school au , f!reader , best friends who do more-than-best-friends things , hinted bio students attending prep school together: hyune and reader , skz ot8 are in a highschool band together w reader , fluff , hyunjin’s a cutie patootie , smart!hyune x smart!reader , cutesy hand holding , hinting at stress (reader) , reader has glasses (which is unrelated to everything but still) , banter , teasing , ot8 appear a lot , nicknames (n/n, jagiya) , mother chan , jeongin is a menace , swearing a few times ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 0.8k

DAY #01 . . .

“you’re staring,” hyunjin said, continuing to flex his arm’s muscles.

“nope. i’m revising anatomy before class starts. I was looking at the humerus, articulated through the glenoid cavity to the scapula,” I said, smiling.

“oh, sure.” he rolled his eyes. “since you’re staring so hard, wanna kiss ‘em?”

I made a face at him, and stuck my tongue out. “you wish!”

he laughed.

“I have them too, okay?” I said, trying to one-up him, as always.

“what?”

“muscles—”

“want me to kiss them?”

I shoved his shoulder away. “we’re late, walk faster!”

“you’re the one with tiny legs, i’m being considerate— OW! don’t stamp on my shoes!”

“shut up!”

“I won’t!”

we made faces at each other and parted ways in front of my classroom since his was the one next to mine.

I spent the next five hours surviving lectures on enzyme activity, literary analysis of dostoyevsky’s works, thermodynamics, and more boring stuff, alongside minho, felix, and jeongin (who fell asleep around five minutes into the first class).

during the break, our group—chris, minho, felix, jeongin, seungmin, han, changbin, hyunjin and I—met up outside our classrooms.

“here’s your blueberry milk, n/n and felix, my favourite children,” chris said, handing us two cans he bought from the vending machine. we smirked at the others, popped the tin open and started downing our drinks in unison. “and here’s your strawberry milk, min. jeongin, your banana milk.”

the others were in the same class as chris, so they got their drinks on their way out. after collecting our drinks from our rightful mother, we headed up to the roof.

“are there any new songs you guys are working on?” hyunjin asked chris, han and changbin—the songwriters of our band—while falling into step beside me.

our hands brushed once, so he held it anyway, and we continued walking together hand-in-hand.

han was talking about a new song they were composing for the band to play at the next music festival, which required a duet.

“we can do it,” I said, raising my free hand, meaning hyunjin and I. everyone else nodded in approval, and continued talking about their classes.

changbin pushed open the door to the roof, and we quickly followed him in pairs, shutting the door behind us.

we took our spots on the fluffy blanket minho got and laid down, hyunjin’s head resting on my lap. minho sat down with his legs on han’s, while jeongin did the same with chris, and seungmin copied them to lay his legs on changbin’s lap.

we continued chatting about the upcoming music festival and tried to figure out a name for our band before then, while my fingers threaded through hyunjin’s soft hair.

after the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch break (during which none of us actually ate our lunches), we returned to our classes for one last hour, after which, we met up outside the school’s main gate to walk home together.

I ran towards hyunjin while his back was facing me, and placed my cold palm against the back of his neck. he jumped suddenly, and shrieked. he threw his jacket onto my face.

“bitch!” I yelled, grabbing the jacket.

“put it on, jagiya, because your hands are cold as fuck! or you’ll die of the cold and then i’ll have to explain to your mother why i’m carrying her only child’s dead body home.”

“joke’s on you, I don’t think she’d mind. ha! and anyway, i’m a normal temperatured human being, for your information, you’re the warm one!” I complained, slipping his jacket on.

“okay, n/n, we all know you’re wrong on that one,” jeongin said. “give up the fight before it gets too embarrassing—”

“you’re all so mean to me, the best member of our group, and for what?” I rolled my eyes, sighing.

felix and chris stepped in front of me dramatically, and said together, “we’ll protect you from these ghouls, y/n!”

everyone burst out laughing, including them and me.

along the walk home, minho, han, changbin, and seungmin went a different way from the rest of us.

we waved our goodbyes, reminding each other to think of a name for our band.

“when’s our next test, hyune?” I asked suddenly.

“at prep school? I think it’s this friday,” he said.

“ugh, you both are such smartypants, you’re always studying or talking about it,” jeongin complained, accurately playing his role as the youngest child and menace of the group.

“and yet it’s not enough,” I muttered to myself, not realising hyunjin heard my words.

my mind divided its attention between worrying about the syllabus I was yet to cover for the test, and listening to the boys’ conversation.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when jeongin, chris and felix parted ways with us.

hyunjin and I walked a bit further to my house, where he dropped me off.

“see you at prep school!” he said, and jogged a block further to reach his house.

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kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

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sstrwbrryccke · 1 year ago

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member of txt!amab!reader who wears grey sweatpants to practice... and soobin can't help, but keep on staring at their crotch :( stupid baby can't even concentrate on practicing anymore, so he just sits on the floor and continues staring, rubbing his thighs together from time to time. reader obviously takes a notice at soobin's behaviour, so when they're left alone in practice room, it all ends up with soobin getting fucked dumb in front of all the mirrors around...

stop pervy soobin will be the death of me… thank you em @soobinsonly1bf for the request! 🫢🙏 (i asked him to req me HSHHSJFJA)

— practice room | sub choi soobin

tags: txt!amab!reader x pervert soobin, mean reader but soft at the end, made-up dance routine, reader is the oldest of the group, usage of hyung a few times, mirror sex, downbad soobin, pervert soobin, mention of drool once, soobin fingering himself, thigh slapping, dacryphilia, age dominance? idk like korea’s respect system based on age, fluffy at the end but other than that its filth

“okay everyone, two more tries. from the top.”

you call out, slicking your hair back, and getting back to position. more emotion, more expression, focus on the chorus. you repeat in your head, looking back at your members.

“lets do it!” yeonjun yells in english, clapping his hands, hyping up everyone as beomgyu replays the song from the top. soobin takes his position beside you, a meek look on his face, which you shrugged off at first. maybe he was tired, the group had been practicing for hours after all.

gradually however, you begin to notice the subtle changes in his breath pattern, the way he bites his lips as he stares intently at the practice mirror. it only became more apparent at the killing part of the dance, you face towards soobin, hand reaching out to grasp his chin, and you distinctly hear his breath hitch, eyes lidded as he stares at you.

when the dance ended, some members took a drink break, while others kept correcting their mistakes in the mirror. you on the other-hand, approached soobin directly, who was busy pretending as if he didn’t see you.

“soobin.”

you just say, arms crossed. the said boy was sitting with his back flush to the mirror. head turned to the side and hand rubbing the back of his neck. his eyes glance to you before nervously looking away. the closer you get the more jittery he becomes. you squat in front of him, and you hear him hold his breath, he couldn’t help but glance down— to your crotch and the outline of your cock in your grey sweatpants— oh shit.

he gulps, coming face to face with your knowing look. he just got caught staring. he props his knees up, hugging them to his chest, face down. trying to hide his growing erection.

“soobin, look at hyung.”

he lifts his head at this, bunny eyes wide and mouth agape. you were smirking at him. his heart thumped and his cheeks grew warm.

“guys, soobin’s tired, let’s practice one more time without him. come on, get up. lets go.” you clap, signalling to the others before jumping up and walking back to your position. some members whine, joking about your favouritism towards soobin and you just shush them playfully. the many privileges of being the oldest. the loud instrumentals start, but instead of the mirror, you stare at the boy sitting in front.

the moment the dance begins, you default back to your facial expressions carefully crafted for each move, though your eyes never left soobin’s pair. he felt his erection twitch in his pants. you lick your lips and he imagines that was him spread out onto your tongue. you thrust your hips and he imagines his body flush against yours. and god, those stupidly hot grey sweatpants. he was so incredibly down bad for a dumb piece of clothing, but the way the fabric almost left nothing yet everything to the imagination— maybe he finally understood how fans felt when they see their bias.

before he knew it, his thighs were desperately rubbing together, mouth agape. if he opened his lips any wider, drool might even seep out. he was so needy, and he knew you knew. the way you eyed him down, tongue poking at your inner cheek, fingers deliberately sliding down from your chest to near your crotch.

god.

thankfully the dance was over, otherwise soobin might’ve genuinely busted in his pants, and he was sure he would’ve faced a lifetime of teasing as a result. you pat each member behind the back, exchanging ‘good work’s as you remind everyone to stretch at the dorm. yeonjun sneaks up on you, slapping your ass with a cheeky grin. “what? gonna dote on soobin once the two of you are alone?”

you jab him in the side, playfully rolling your eyes. you knew yeonjun was joking, but he didn’t know just how true his words were. there had always been something between you and soobin since your trainee era, and the two of you were ecstatic when you found out you were debuting together. and soon enough, that attraction became something tangible and physical. as hormonal young adults, it was no surprise you two took advantage of your youth to enjoy each other’s presence. aka fuck like wild bunnies.

when the rest of the group leave the room, their laughter and chattering muffled down the hallway, you slowly lock the practice room door, turning around to meet eyes with a very desperate soobin. his hands snaking around your neck. kissing you just as eagerly, you kiss him back much more precise compared to his sloppy attempt. he pushes a tongue against your bottom lip and that’s when you part, a string of saliva connecting you two. he stares at you for a second before a low whine trembles out from his plump lips.

“why?”

“why should i reward you? you’ve been bad.”

his pouty lips frown, about to sulk before you push him further into the room, dead centre in the middle of the practice mirrors.

“seriously soob, you think you’re slick, staring at my crotch like that?”

his face instantly darkens to a crimson red, he lowers his head and his bangs cover his eyes but you can see the pink on his ears.

“you wanted to distract me didn’t you. wanted me to mess up on the choreography?”

he shakes his head quickly, his hair tousling at the motion, his big eyes peak from behind his bangs as he looks at you.

“no!… i…” he stammers, trying to formulate words to defend himself, but all he could really focus on was his hardening dick and how it pressed against his jeans painfully.

“no? look at yourself.”

he does as you say. good obedient boy. there was a tent in his jeans and at the very tip was a wet spot. his breath stutters, because he catches a glance at your crotch too, your length outlined by the thin fabric of the sweatpants. he wished that was in him instead.

“i can’t help it, im sorry.” his head hung low in an embarrassed shame, apologising to his older member out of genuine guilt.

“if you’re so sorry, let me see you open yourself up. if you’re good, maybe ill reconsider.”

he takes a glance at you, and he knew exactly what you wanted. he’s been here before, you wanted to see the humiliation on his face as he played with himself. you wanted him to cry as he threw away his dignity and pride. degrade his body into a shivering and quivering mess until he begged for forgiveness.

it shouldn’t, but it turned him on so much. he quickly shuffles off his pants, keeping his hoodie on because he knew you liked seeing his huge hoodie slump down his figure and onto his cock. he parts his legs but before he can touch himself you stop him. his wide eyes look at you, did he do something wrong? are you going to leave him here untouched and hard?

“turn around.” you interrupt his train of thoughts, sitting down crossed legged as you dug into his pants, taking out a travel-sized bottle of lube.

“how did you—“

“knowing your perverted ass, i took a wild guess.”

he sheepishly smiled, turning around as you commanded. meeting face to face with the reflection of his body. and wow was he red… thighs parted with his dick barely hidden by his hoodie. it looked sinful, and you were grinning behind him. you take his hand, slathering a good amount of cold lube on his fingers before leaving him be.

“go on, soob.”

you state, and his breath trembles as his fingers prodded at his own ass, slipping in softly and he keens, thighs and eyes slowly closing, only to snap back to reality by a ringing slap to his thigh. he yelps, widening his legs and looking up at you in the mirror.

“keep your eyes and legs open.”

your hand comes to tilt his chin up, he bites back tears as he continued inserting in his fingers with your new rules. you were so mean. he wanted to whine, but if he endured this he might be rewarded. so he disregards all his shame as he starts riding his own fingers. crotch leaned towards the mirror as he watched his hole close and open.

“look at that soobin, if you were good from the beginning that could be my dick.”

you whispered and he whimpers, tears escaping and rolling down his cheek. all he wanted was for you to dote on him, but because of his stupid horny brain he ruined that chance. he starts sobbing as the shame seeps into him, and you slap his thigh again to remind him to keep his eyes open. he does his best to please you, biting his lips hard as he inserted a fourth finger, it painfully stretched him out but he kept going, his hopeful eyes glancing up at you in pleads. but you didn’t budge and he just couldn’t do it anymore, his finger accidentally jabs particularly hard at his prostate and his thighs shook— a choked ‘coming’ trembled in his throat before he came in ropes, hard cock bobbing up and down before he was empty.

he gasps out, the satisfaction of the orgasm was soon replaced by his brooding disappointment. he sighed as he took his fingers out of his hole. head down and afraid to look up at you, he knew you were disappointed. it was akin to getting a scolding from his manager. his non-dirty hand comes up to wipe at his tears, at least he could face his hyung with some dignity before he gets reprimanded.

though, as if the gods answered his prayers, your hands come up to brush his bangs away from his eyes, pulling his tall body into your lap.

“soob it’s okay, you did well, soob.”

he sighs out a breathy exhale, big red eyes glancing behind him.

“i’m sorry” he just says, sulking.

“you’re okay. want to feel me in you?”

he nods, letting you dote on him. it always felt nice when you took care of him, either socially or physically. he may be the taller one, but you were his hyung and you always made sure he was taken care of. you slip your dick out from your sweatpants, before slowly inserting yourself into his throbbing hole. he sighs, out of relief this time. he glances into the mirror and you had your face in the crook of his neck, slowly moving him up and down as your hand caressed his cock.

it was a few soft moments, you thrusted softly into him as to not overstimulate him. he turns his head to you again, plump lips in a frown.

“kiss?” you ask, he nods eagerly, and you capture his lips gently. letting his curious tongue in your mouth this time, and in exchange you slipped yours in his, tasting him. his breath hitches, and you could tell he was close with how his stomach clenched. you break from the kiss to suck on his neck, leaving a small hickey just above his collarbone. he moans out, quiet and breathy, thighs clenching as his second orgasm came at him in waves. he squeezes your cock and you cum with a small moan.

the two of you take a moment to breathe before a satisfied smile adorns his pink lips again. you chuckle, so predictable. his eyes creased with his grin and his aegyo sal was on full show, he turns to you and cuddles into your neck.

“happy?”

“super.” he giggles into your collarbone. you let him enjoy your body warmth for a moment, slipping your dick out and hearing the soft drip of cum falling from his hole to the ground.

after a few soft seconds, you pat his back, getting his attention. “okay soobie, let’s clean up and go back to the dorm. we have a dance practice to film tomorrow.”

he sulks when you untangle his long limbs from yours, but quickly recovers as he cleans out the cum from his hole with a tissue (shivering and doing his best not to get hard again, this man has a stamina of a bunny…) slipping his underwear and pants back on. meanwhile you take one of the towels to clean up the residue on the floor. dumping it in a basket later. you gather yours and soobins stuff before noticing the guy staring long and hard at his reflection.

“soobin? what’s up.”

“i have a hickey.”

“what— oh.”

“what do i do? we’re filming tomorrow.”

“…hope and pray moas don’t notice?”

—☆★☆

TOMORROW X TOGETHER OFFICIAL uploaded: TXT (투모로우바이투게더) ‘XXXXX’ Dance Practice

@soobslefttoe: yall?? is that a hickey on soobins neck

@iloveyn: @soobslefttoe nah the real question is DO YOU GUYS SEE HOW YN LOOKED AT SOOBIN??? i would sell my soul to be looked at like that.

@ynxsoob4ever: they are totally fuvking i bet yn scks coobins dick all day

@sanetxtstan: all of you are so delulu…

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