The The Tongue Okay

the… the tongue… okay…

bonus: STILL clowning Wonwoo for his tongue

the cutest, wen junhui

chan sits cross-legged in his living room, a box of his old belongings sitting on the floor in front of him. a few days ago, his parents called to let him know they were going to do some cleaning of old belongings, maybe donating anything that was still good quality. which lead to the two of you heading up for the weekend. his younger brother has already came and went, just narrowly missing getting to see the two of you, which just leaves the two of you to sort through chan's old things while his parents are out.

and chan's starting to regret it, because you just happened to find his old high school student ID, and you've lost it. "it's not that funny!"

"you looked like an egg!"

he's fighting back his own smile. you're not wrong, his high school haircut is far from flattering, but he doesn't want to admit that. you're holding onto his ID tightly, immediately falling away from him when he lunges to grab it. it's a childish game of him reaching for it and you twisting and turning to keep it away from him, but he finally wins out, pinning you against the floor as he manages to snatch it from your grasp. you're still laughing, and he finds it infectious as he collapses onto you, face buried in your shoulder.

he pushes himself up, hovering over you when he smiles. "hi." he keeps the card tight within his grasp. "i'm gonna burn it."

"i'll buy it from you."

"not a chance." his gaze flickers down to your lips. "but... i could be bribed--"

"oh my god, you big dork." you snort, "i'm not making out with you when your parents can come home any second, you dweeb."

he leans back, eyes twinkling as he teases you. "just a peck? and you're the one in love with me, you know. what does it say about your tastes if i'm a dork--"

you just pull him in by the front of his shirt, kissing him to shut him up (he loves teasing you and how flustered you get). he smiles into it, a hand cradling your face as he lets out a quiet hum...

only to immediately yank from you away the minute he hears the doorknob jostle, feeling like an embarrassed teenager all over again.

[22:45]

AN: Maybe I should actually challenge myself to write something with Josh being a genuinely nice/good guy lmao. Also, I finished and edited this while sleepy sooo.

General tags and warnings: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, roommates AU, enemies to enemies who fuck and cheating is brought up but, no actual cheating occurs.

Smut tags and warnings: Sadistic Dom! Joshua, masochist sub! Reader, edging (f. receiving), face slapping (f. receiving), Reader cries a bit, Daddy kink, thigh riding, degradation (f. receiving), humiliation (f. receiving), choking (f. receiving), Josh has a cheating kink sort of and dirty talk.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You're late. You know you've been running late for some time now. The momentary vibrations you hear from your phone on the coffee table lets you know that your friends are likely wondering where you are. You can practically see Mingyu's frustrated face in your mind. 

“I'm sorry, am I boring you?” 

Joshua's sarcastic tone snaps you out of thoughts of your friends and all of the alcohol you're missing out on. A long anticipated night of catching up interrupted by your aggravating roommate and your inability to say no to him. 

“Shu–Shut up,” you hiss, digging your manicured nails into his broad shoulders. His responding chuckle lets you know that he couldn't care less about your little retaliation tactic. The large hand on your ass remains firm, forcing you to rock yourself on his dress pant covered thigh. The same thigh he's been edging you with for god knows how long. It's covered in your wetness. The evidence that you don't quite hate Joshua as much as you'd hoped. He doesn't seem bothered in the slightest that you're likely ruining his too expensive pants. His attention focused on making you ruin the panties he hasn't let you take off yet. 

“What?” He starts, flexing his thigh and delighting in the way you gasp and chase the more tangible friction it offers, “Are we going to pretend you don't get off to my voice now?” He asks, lidded eyes never leaving your face. Determined to drink in as many of your fucked out expressions as he can. 

“I don't–” 

A sharper gasp leaves your bruised lips when you feel the familiar smack of his hand on your cheek. It stings. Tears welling in your eyes while your pussy is forced to clench and unclench painfully around nothing and dribble more of your arousal onto him. 

The knot in the pit of your gut tightens when that same hand grabs your face, forcing you to meet his stormy gaze, “I thought you knew better than to lie to me,” he coos condescendingly, his thumb wiping away the few tears that spill from your eyes. Fuck. This is always the worst part. The juxtaposition. The pain radiating from your cheek coupled with the gentle way he touches your face makes your head spin and your clit throb. 

“I–I'm sorry,” you whimper out once the words find you. Grasping at his pristine button down while your hips chase the barest bits of friction his thigh offers. You can see his smile clear as day even through your teary eyes. If he wasn't such an asshole, you'd think it was cute. However, you learned a long time ago that nothing about Joshua is cute. Your nails dig into his shirt when he presses into your freshly slapped cheek, eyes glinting when you shudder on him and grind your pussy harder against his thigh. 

“I'm sorry what?” 

Embarrassment burns hot in your gut and, the shame mixed with the pain pushes you so close to cumming that you can taste it if you try hard enough. 

“Come on, are you really going to get all shy on me now?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow, an expression that would look incredibly stupid on anyone else in this situation. You feel his blunt nails dig into the thickest part of your ass, halting your movements and you've never wanted to cry from frustration more. That would just get him off though. “You do know I can feel the way you're soaking and humping my thigh like a bitch in heat, right? We don't have to play this game.” He finishes, relaxing against your shared couch and waiting for you to just say it. 

You've said it before. You know you like it. Maybe he'll even let you finally cum if you do. The thought more than enough to send your walls fluttering and your heart hammering in your chest. 

“I'm sorry, Daddy.” 

His grip on your face grows harsh and he drags you into a messy kiss while his other hand relaxes and lets you continue riding his thigh. “See,” he pants against your mouth, his eyes heavy with want, “Was that so hard?” 

‘Yes. Yes, it was’ you want to snark back but, you know better. You know he wouldn't think twice about leaving you like this for days and not letting you cum until you're banging at his door and are forced to face his obnoxiously smug expression. 

“N–No, Daddy,” you pant, the tangled mess of tension in the pit of your stomach growing taut with every drag of your clit on him and, the way his fingers map their way down your face. 

“See, it's so easy when you shut the fuck up and do what I tell you to,” the sweetness in his tone makes your head spin, worsening the haze in your mind. Which isn't helped by his fingers wrapping themselves around your neck and applying pressure. You're pretty sure your eyes roll into the back of your head and your movements grow more desperate, more pathetic. 

“No cumming yet,” he orders into your ear, his other hand appreciatively kneading your ass. Despite your best efforts, a whine of frustration leaves your swollen lips and the glint in his eyes returns. 

“Are you complaining?” He drawls, pressing down harder and delighting in the way you quiver on his thigh and attempt to steady yourself with his broad chest.

“N–No, Daddy,” you rush out because you really don't know how much more of this you can take. You're so wet and swollen and, everything hurts. 

“Good,” he responds. “Maybe I should edge you for another hour,” the thought makes tears well up in your eyes and your stomach drop in a way that isn't wholly unpleasant, “Send you wet and aching to your little boyfriend,” he muses into your ear, thumbing your jugular. 

“He–He's not m–my boy ah friend,” you respond in frustration, hoping the image of your friend that pops up in your mind vanishes quickly. You'd rather not think about him right now. 

“You sure about that? The way he trails after you like a lost puppy would say otherwise.” 

“Ch–Cheol doesn't do th–that,” you huff, the knife in your gut twisting when he nips at your earlobe as you maintain a pace that doesn't send you careening over the edge before he permits you to. 

“You can't be that naïve,” he says with a smile, “He practically looks at you with hearts in his eyes. He'd be so crushed to see his precious girl getting wet from a few slaps and making a mess on my thigh,” he continues with faux sympathy for Seungcheol. He doesn't give you a moment to think about the idea of Seungcheol having feelings for you. Joshua has always been fond of pushing you just to see how you break. “I bet he'd treat you so nicely. Make love to you in missionary while whispering sweet nothing in your ear about how much he loves you and how pretty you are,” he whispers, “but you don't want that right? That's why you keep crawling back to Daddy. You want someone who'll treat you like the slut you are. Who'll choke you while you cry on his cock. Who'll make you call him Daddy knowing it makes you feel embarrassed. Who'll fuck you nice and hard until you're sore and leaking with cum.” 

You fucking hate him.

You hate the way your mind grows hazier with every gravelly word he whispers into your ear. You hate the way your pussy clamps down fiercely around nothing. You hate the way that you're so close and you need to fist his shirt in your hands just to help ground yourself and not cum because he hasn't said you can yet.  Air rushes to your brain almost too quickly for you to handle. His hand drifting from your throat to the apex of your thighs. You choke on a jumbled mess of ‘Daddy’ and ‘fuck’ when his thick fingers drag themselves along your ruined panties, “I have a much better idea. I'll send you to him with your pussy filled with my cum.”

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in this essay i will discuss the impact o- *gunshots go off, car backfires, glass shatters, cat screeches, siren wails*

my lawyer has advised me not to speak.